Chapter 28
Chapter 28
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Hunt the Weak First. (6)
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Their claim that procuring slaves was difficult was nothing more than a ploy to jack up the prices.
'As expected.'
I could tell just how much this idiot mark had been underestimated all this time, even without seeing it.
'That's why that guy Noah ended up like that.'
Shaking off my irritation, I turned my gaze to the coachman collapsed on the prison floor.
"Hic!"
Even though the robe hid me from view, the coachman sensed something and immediately cowered in fear.
'I'll deal with this one last.'
I granted him a merciful reprieve and whipped my head around.
"You bastard, the slaves are the target!"
"Grab him now!"
The guards finally grasped the situation and shouted. Two swords came rushing toward me.
'Ragtag bunch.'
I assessed them simply.
They probably had no experience capturing intruders from the start. They must have just handed swords to a couple of slightly bolder guys and posted them here.
That alone would be enough to handle powerless slaves. Ones beaten down by Bruno or doped up on drugs.
The two guards' swords were yawn-inducingly slow and atrociously sloppy. No need for me to even parry.
'One at a time.'
I dodged the sword coming from the left and lightly kicked the stumbling guard.
And then,
Slash.
I severed the wrists of the one on the right. Both hands thudded to the floor, still gripping the sword.
"Aaack!"
The guard who lost both hands dropped to his knees. Tears streamed down as he stared at his empty wrists.
"U, uuuugh."
The emptiness when something that should be there isn't. Losing what had been at the end of your arms your whole life—it brings a terror greater than pain.
With tear-soaked eyes, he looked around. Searching for his hands that should be attached to the sword hilt.
But they were already lifeless chunks of meat clinging to the blade.
"Kwaaaaaah!"
The guard wailed in agony.
It made the other guard flinch, the coachman plug his ears, and the huddled slaves clutch their heads and bow low.
A怨-filled howl bubbling up from deep in the gut.
"Grrr...."
Suddenly, he convulsed like he was having a fit. His eyes rolled back white, foam spilling from his mouth.
"......"
His thrashing body went still. His foam-flecked mouth hung slack, tongue lolling.
"He's dead?"
My quiet mutter fell over his corpse.
They say some people die from shock alone after losing a body part. Seems this was one of those cases.
'Tsk tsk. Too weak.'
Makes sense—he'd only ever watched over powerless slaves here. When would he have witnessed a blood-soaked scene like this?
Anyway, unlucky guy.
'Or maybe lucky?'
Depending on how I planned to handle the next one, dying like that might be better.
"Hmph."
I left the motionless corpse and turned.
"Wh-what the hell?"
The guard I'd kicked away hastily straightened up. But he'd already lost his fight, shrinking back.
His feet pointed outward, ready to bolt at any moment.
"Damn it!"
The instant he took a step, I lunged low.
Stab!
Requiem pierced his jaw and burst out through the top of his skull.
"Gu, gurgle."
A grotesque gurgle escaped his mouth. The muscles for making sound had been run through.
He raised both arms to grab my sword, flailing to push it away.
Futile.
Shriiik—
With a chilling sound, his hands touching Requiem shriveled. The same happened to his neck where it was impaled.
Thud.
His arms fell limply. Shoulders, elbows—all joints bent at impossible angles, fingers and toes curled to their limits.
"Hiiik!"
It was so grotesque the coachman scrambled backward on all fours.
"Guh, guh, gag."
The guard couldn't even resist. Limbs splayed out, he just let his life force be drained away.
He looked like a frog skewered on a metal rod.
'1, 2, 3......'
I watched coldly, counting.
Neck and head.
Not as vital as the heart, but fatal to humans. I wanted to know how quickly Requiem drained life from these spots.
'......8, 9, 10.'
When I reached ten,
"Gulp......"
The horrific groans leaking from the guard's mouth stopped. His limbs went slack.
'About 10 seconds.'
I yanked Requiem free from his neck. The unsupported body crumpled in a heap.
The corpse spilling onto the floor was barely recognizable as human by its shape alone. A gruesome sight no one could bear to look at.
"U, uuugh......"
The coachman swallowed a fear-laden groan.
"Hiiik......!"
One slave let out a scream. Another clapped a hand over his mouth in panic.
A stifled silence filled the prison. Amid the grief, shock, and terror hanging in the air, only one thing made noise.
"......"
Requiem.
It alone growled, purring in ecstasy. Thrilled at devouring a human's life force entirely.
More, a little more. Hurry, the next one.
'Shut up.'
I gritted my teeth and spat.
Every kill had to be by my will, under my plan. Never following Requiem's lead.
Yet,
"......"
Why did my lips keep twitching against my will? Why did I feel like cackling louder and louder?
'Not good.'
I bit my lip until it bled.
My mind floated like I was drunk, a buoyant sensation like walking on clouds washing over me, languor melting my bones.
I teetered right on the edge of a dangerous line.
'Trouble.'
The original plan was to kill everyone here. But given my current state, that seemed risky.
Not for me, but for the entire territory.
"......"
I clenched my jaw and tensed my fingers.
'First, put the sword away.'
I focused to sheathe it again, like when I'd drawn it. But Requiem's presence in my palm wouldn't fade.
'......You bastard.'
Requiem clung to my palm like a leech with its teeth sunk in.
Green light flickered from the Gauntlet. The Guardian's power strained to shield me from Requiem.
'Urgh.'
In the meantime, I sensed movement behind me.
Clink.
The faint sound of picking up a fallen sword. But to my heightened senses, it rang out hugely.
I whipped around. The coachman was rising from the floor, sword in hand.
"Mo-monster."
His eyes were unfocused, darting wildly. He gripped the sword tight and,
"Uwaaaah!"
Charged me blindly. His face showed reason lost to terror.
A desperate flailing unfit to call an attack came at me.
'Damn.'
The moment I sensed killing intent, my body—no, Requiem—moved on instinct.
Like a beast pursuing moving prey, it targeted vitals with precision and speed.
Stab!
Requiem pierced the coachman's chest.
"Guhk!"
He let out a choking scream. His body began shriveling like the dead guard before.
"Ahh."
I let out a faint sigh. Closer to a sweet exhale.
Thump, thump.
His heartbeat sounded right up close. Frantic from the sudden pain.
I could see it vividly in my mind's eye. The heart contracting in agony, the blood spurting out, coursing through veins.
The heart fighting desperately to save its master's body soon yielded control. To the pitch-black void at its center, sucking everything in.
The blood and life force flowing into me shook my soul like sweet song.
The dying man's final pained breaths dyed me in ecstatic hues.
"Guhk......"
His body hit the floor like a dried-up mummy.
And silence.
"......"
I hung my head in silence. The remaining slaves all clamped mouths shut, holding their breath.
At last,
"......Haha."
Laughter leaked from my lips.
More, more.
The voice eroding my mind moved my lips before I knew it.
"More, I want to hear more."
That heartbeat.
"More, I want to eat more."
The life filling my soul's depths, heating it hot.
"More."
I turned toward the next life, cowering silently behind me.
❖ ❖ ❖
"Tsk tsk, still."
Moritz glared at Noah with a displeased face.
"Too reckless. What if someone saw?"
"I'm sorry."
Noah bowed his head with a gloomy expression. Moritz clicked his tongue briefly at the sight,
"But...... it worked out in the end."
He patted Noah's shoulder. Noah looked up with a sheepish grin.
"Thanks to you, we'll find out who bought all those slaves."
"Right? That's why I gritted my teeth and brought that thunderbolt bastard along."
"Good work."
Moritz flipped through the ledger. His eyes gleamed coldly as he scanned the numbers.
"Definitely not an ordinary guy."
"Right?"
Noah sighed deeply.
"I've dealt with all kinds of customers, but that was the rudest one I've ever seen."
"Didn't see his face?"
"Ah, yes."
"Doesn't seem like some servant from around here."
Moritz tapped the ledger with a finger, then closed it. His eyes flashed.
"Guess we need to take a closer look."
He sent off the last customer and shut the door. Swapped the sign to 'Closed' and turned.
"Let's go."
"Yeah. By now, Brother Bruno's probably turned them into pulp, right?"
Noah grinned and led the way, then suddenly stopped. Moritz, following, asked.
"What's wrong?"
"Ah, nothing."
Noah shook his head and resumed walking.
'No way that could happen.'
He tried to deny it, but a nagging 'what if' lingered in his mind.
'What if Brother Bruno lost to that guy or something.'
Objectively ridiculous. Bruno was a skilled thug with a solid rep in the back alleys.
'Why am I even thinking this?'
Probably that ominous feeling from when the guy grabbed him earlier. It stuck in his memory.
'Forget it, forget.'
Noah shook his head to dispel the thought. Then headed with Moritz to the room where Bruno was.