The Vulture's Feast
The wind spirits I summoned wrapped themselves in fierce gusts and slammed into the knights, sending them tumbling from their horses. The now-riderless mounts fled into the darkness, driven by terror, while a few unlucky knights were trampled beneath the hooves and lost their lives.
“Ugh… ugh…!”
Even those who survived the fall could only groan in pain, unable to rise. Only five men, including their captain, managed to draw their swords and stand.
“Lord Anak! What is the meaning of this?!”
His eyes reflected a storm of emotions—rage, fear, confusion, suspicion, and guilt. Seeing that look, the small knot of anxiety in my chest loosened. So, it seemed I hadn’t been mistaken after all.
“I was willing to turn a blind eye until we reached our destination, but I can’t hold back any longer.”
“What on earth are you—!”
“The underworld custom of sending flowers to the target first. Did you really think I wouldn’t know it, after traveling with Bagloros, the world’s strongest assassin?”
“Lord Anak, you seem to have misunderstood. If Flamel was rude, he has already been punished, and we will apologize as well. So please—!”
The captain tried to keep his expression under control and continue the act, but the faces of the knights behind him and those still on the ground had already hardened. The performance was meaningless.
“Enough with the pointless theater. Speak honestly. You’re just transporters, not assassins. I might even let you live.”
“……”
He rolled his eyes as if calculating something. But I knew it wasn’t surrender he was considering.
“Oh, you’re feeling better already?”
Following his gaze, I turned to see the fallen knights slowly rising and drawing their blades. As expected of men pretending to be knights—they were sturdy, at least.
“…Don’t get cocky! You only got lucky because you were beside the Hero!”
“Yeah, don’t think you’ve won just because a surprise attack worked!”
Henry and Beres, was it? Well, it would’ve been a shame if it had ended too easily.
“Is that so?”
I dropped my luggage first, then dismounted. I wasn’t incapable of fighting on horseback, and staying mounted would have been advantageous in many ways, but unfortunately the barrier didn’t extend to the horse. It was a gentle, good-natured animal; I didn’t want it hurt.
“Go on, follow your friends. I’ll come find you later.”
Since the horse couldn’t understand me, I summoned a fire spirit to fly behind it. Startled by the sudden heat and flames, the horse bolted into the darkness, its hoofbeats fading away.
The knights stared at me in bewilderment.
“Well then, this is your last chance. Confess honestly and beg for mercy, or come at me.”
At that moment, one of the knights behind me charged. Compared to Rowell or my other companions, it was pitiful, but it was still a strike aimed at an opening.
I smiled as I watched the blade fly toward my neck. The barrier activated automatically, and the sword shattered against it just inches from my throat.
“……!”
The knight’s face twisted in pain and shock. He probably had little experience fighting summoners or mages. The standard tactic was to strike before they could chant. It was a perfectly sound method—except mages knew it too.
“You should have bought a sturdier sword.”
Mana flowed at my command, and runes representing dimensions and souls were etched into the air. The knight, still dazedly staring at his broken blade, threw himself backward. He must have thought it was an attack spell, but as I said, once this barrier was active, most offensive magic became unusable. This was summoning.
And while I could call forth many beings as a summoner, I already knew exactly what I wanted.
“You said you hated bugs and laughed. Let’s see you laugh again.”
The incantation ended. Grotesque creatures began crawling out of my shadow. They had child-sized bodies covered in rock-like, hard shells, long legs, and sharp mandibles that split sideways, with smaller pincers constantly twitching beside them.
“Th-this is…!”
A few of them recognized the creatures. Of course they would. These things had once turned five kingdoms, large and small, into literal hell.
Their name was Thanators Apolidon— one of the demonic insects once commanded by Anubkut, the Demon Insect Legion Commander. I had taken an egg sac when we destroyed his hatchery on the surface and hatched it in a separate dimension.
In other words, they were my personal demon insect legion, obeying only my orders.
“Everyone, run—!”
They tried to flee, but it was pointless. The insects emerging from my shadow were only a fraction of the swarm. The rest had already poured from the surrounding darkness, completely surrounding them.
“I can’t allow escape. Besides, you couldn’t outrun them anyway.”
“Y-you lunatic! A Hero’s companion raising demon insects?!”
Yes. Orcan had said something similar when I decided to keep and hatch that egg sac.
“…A summoner needs to secure useful summons in advance.”
Especially primitive creatures like these, lacking self-awareness or reason. They required no complex contracts, and controlling them through soul resonance was far easier. Of course, I couldn’t summon them so openly in front of others.
“That said, raising them in a pocket dimension means they’re always short on food. Their breeding rate is so high that they can sustain their numbers by eating each other, but occasionally they need proper meals.”
The knights’ faces—especially Beres’s and Henry’s—turned deathly pale. It was quite satisfying to watch. Following my will, the insects marched toward the knights, their grotesque mandibles and pincers twitching in excitement at the prospect of a real meal after so long.
“W-wait! We don’t know anything! We were only hired by the High Assassin Guild to bring you in. We don’t know the details!”
The desperate voice was trying its hardest to sound truthful. And it probably was. These men were nothing more than actors, guides, and bait. Otherwise, their pathetic skill and complete lack of professionalism made no sense.
“But you must have some idea, right? For example, how far up the chain this goes.”
The High Assassin Guild wasn’t a single organization. It was a massive coalition of renowned assassins connected to countless factions. Below were countless informants, bait like these men, and transporters. Above them were the high-ranking assassins, ability users, and influential figures hiding in the shadows.
They lived ordinary lives as knights, mercenaries, merchants, or politicians until assigned a mission suited to their level, at which point they acted as members of the High Assassin Guild.
A first-class mission meant first-class informants, transporters, bait, assassins, and supporters. A second-class mission meant second-class personnel. And so on.
In other words, even if these men were merely transporters, the level of missions they usually handled would give me a rough idea of what kind of people were involved in this one.
“……”
He fell silent at my question. Of course. Absolute secrecy was essential for this kind of work. Failing the transport and having their identities exposed was already dangerous enough. If it became known they had given information to the target, even surviving this moment wouldn’t guarantee their lives for long.
“What’s there to think about? I’m not asking for names. Just tell me the mission’s rank. And the exact meeting place, time, signals, and codes.”
Of course, the moment they spoke, they too would be added to the Guild’s target list.
“……”
They knew this as well and remained silent. At the same time, the insects, which had paused, resumed their advance. The grotesque sounds of pincers and mandibles once again filled the air, driven solely by the most primal of instincts—hunger.
“…I understand! I’ll tell you everything! I’ll tell you everything, so please!”
In the end, he fell to his knees in terror. These men lived on the edge of death. Fear of death itself wasn’t that great. But being surrounded by countless insects and eaten alive until nothing remained—that was a different weight of death. Especially for those who had faced these creatures even once during the last great war.
“…That’s everything.”
He told me all he knew. I had no way to verify whether there were clever lies mixed in, but at least he had given me everything I wanted.
“W-we told you everything, so let us go. We won’t appear near you again.”
And that, at least in this moment, was probably sincere.
But it meant nothing.
“I asked you to tell me. I never once said I would let you live if you did.”
They stared at me, unable to process the words for a moment. Then suspicion flickered across their faces, followed by despair and rage. Watching those expressions, a bitter smile naturally formed on my lips.
Yes. Just as Orcan said, I was fundamentally different from Rowell and the others. He compared me to a vulture, but to me, my nature felt all too human—cowardly, narrow-minded, cruel, and deeply flawed.
In every way, I was different from those who approached perfection. They might think of themselves as human, but they could never be contained within something as petty as the category of “human.”
“Y-you bastard! How can you call yourself the Hero’s companion?!”
“Coward! Fight us one-on-one if you dare!”
They tried to overcome their despair and fear with anger, but it was nothing more than futile thrashing.
Rowell the Hero wasn’t here. Neither was the Yellow Sage Medrup, nor the Silent Empress Lauti. Only I was here. There was no light to guide me, no one to fill my imperfections.
Besides, this had been decided the moment we left the village. From the very beginning, I had never intended to let them live.
“If you had shown a little more courtesy, you might have lived until we reached our destination. A shame. Though I can’t say I don’t understand your feelings.”
To them, someone like me who had fallen away from Rowell the Hero must have seemed utterly insignificant.
“But you only saw my insignificance while I was with Rowell the Hero. You never saw your own. And that was your greatest mistake.”
The insects swarmed over the knights all at once. The knights swung their swords in reflexive panic, but if such things could have stopped them, there would never have been a need for a Hero in the first place. Soon, agonized screams and the sound of metal being torn apart filled the air. Henry, Beres, and the other knights could only watch in pain as they were buried beneath the swarm and devoured.
Of course, for the captain who had at least shown me a minimum of respect, I granted a small mercy—though whether it meant anything or was simply for my own sake, I couldn’t say. I had the insects eat his head first. At least he wouldn’t feel the pain the others did.
“It’s been a long time since you had a proper meal. Enjoy it.”