Chapter 110
Chapter 110
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 110
Chapter Title: Moonlit Night
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A massive moon rising behind the hill. The winter night's moon was exceptionally clear and enormous. To the point where the silhouettes of two galloping horses were illuminated in backlighting. They didn't look like they were climbing the forest; they seemed to be leaping straight toward the moon.
Clop-clop!
Unlike Ian, who held Hasha and urged his horse onward, Berik had no reservations. He impatiently shook the reins and spurred the horse relentlessly.
"Hya! Faster! The moon's gonna set!"
By now, even without Hasha, Berik seemed to know exactly where the bandits' lair was. The end of the hill. Instinctively, it felt like their den was down there.
Neigh!
"Wow, you did great and then sell out like that."
Berik peered down at the steeply sloped hill below. Tattered tents were pitched amid the grass, forming a village. Ian, who had followed behind, surveyed the overall terrain and clicked his tongue in amazement.
"They roam around plundering here and there, but damn if they don't have an eye for good land."
The geographical conditions were nearly perfect for hiding. You had to pass through the abandoned forest, race across the hidden plain, and reach the very end to spot them.
"Good. We've confirmed the camp, so let's head to Karenna and bring back some people."
The stolen loot from the bandits was piled up in one place. And right beside it, Ian's carriage sat neatly. There seemed to be a separate path wide enough for the carriage to enter.
"Huh? Bring people? By when?"
Berik's eyes sparkled as he gripped the hilt of his sword. Ian shook his head at the eagerness to draw it any second.
"We don't know their numbers."
"Doesn't matter. We're killing them all anyway. And sure, mana stones are one thing, but what if they burn the documents while sorting the baggage? Don't you feel sorry for Lord Romandro?!"
"Berik. I wish you'd at least put some spit on your lips."
What worry for Romandro? He just wanted to rampage. Ian chuckled and asked Hasha.
"Do you know where your body is?"
-The central tent.
Hasha's black eyes fixated obsessively on one spot. Just then, as Berik had said, a few bandits approached the carriage.
"See that! Lord Romandro's done for now! He's gonna get fired right after his honeymoon with a newborn!"
"Berik. We can't let the bandit leader escape."
"Yeah, yeah. You go around the long way, Master. I'll clear the path for you."
"...Do it without a hitch."
Ta-at!
The moment Ian gave permission, Berik kicked his horse's flank and shot forward like an arrow. More precisely, tumbling down the steep hill.
Neigh!
In contrast to the startled horse's cry, Berik's laughter rang robustly through the air.
"Ahahaha!"
An unfamiliar laugh echoing on the moonlit night. The bandits sorting loot looked up puzzled, tilting their heads.
Far off, a single horse was descending the cliffside.
"Huh?"
At first, they wondered what was going on. Even those resting in tents poked their heads out one by one.
"...What is that?"
"Yeah. Some lunatic?"
"Not someone from the village tailing us?"
"No guard flags."
They picked up weapons just in case, but tension was low. Predictably, it would crash and die on impact.
Kwang!
Sure enough, unable to withstand the momentum, the horse smashed straight into the nearest tent. Nearby piles of goods toppled, dust clouding the air and blurring vision.
The bandits unwittingly sneered.
"Tsk tsk. Idiots like that should die early. It's good for humanity."
"Hey, you still alive?"
"Shut up. What the hell is this all of a sudden..."
Neigh!
The horse, out of its mind, staggered off. As one bandit cautiously approached and kicked aside the debris pile.
Shwaaak!
Berik's sword drew a crisp arc, stealing the man's breath. The motion was so fluid that the watching bandits took a few seconds to register it.
"That crazy bastard..."
Seeing their comrade collapse to his knees, pants leg soaked in blood, they finally realized. That redhead wasn't crazy—he was an intruder. Nearby bandits charged at Berik, swinging axes.
"Who the hell are you!"
Shiiik!
Whoosh!
Axes thick enough to shatter ordinary blades. But Berik deflected them effortlessly, and the flustered bandits retreated, muttering.
"Th-that feeling just now..."
It felt off. A soft, slow counter that defied gravity. The bandit noticed Berik's red eyes glowing. Not moonlight.
"Come on, hands up."
Berik grinned, pointing his sword at each bandit's face.
"You the one who hit Karenna today?"
"Figures, from the village. What, here for revenge?"
"You? Were you in the village?"
"And if I was?"
Shwaak!
A short, sharp burst of wind. It was the power of an unleashed sword-mage. The mana Ian had given him in the village still lingered.
"Means I missed one. Annoying."
Ta-at!
With his mutter, Berik plunged into the bandits. His sword danced at light speed. Clear-glowing red eyes. Like those of a night-prowling monster devouring beasts.
"Uwaaak!"
"Die! Ahaha! You, I saw your face!"
"Fuck, everyone out! Alert!"
"What's the commotion?!"
"Kwaaak! Help, heeeeelp-!"
The merciless slaughter began.
Ian watched from the hilltop. Hasha, cradled in his arms, lifted his head curiously, peering at Ian's expression.
-What's wrong?
"Hasha, does Berik remind you of anything?"
-Looks like a thug. He'd have a hard time surviving in Astana like that.
"Same in Bariel. Good enough. Time to head down. Berik said he'd pave the way for us."
Ian urged his horse, leaving the clamor behind.
'No matter that he's a sword-mage, Berik's excessive. Fearless, loves blind slaughter. A bit odd.'
In the capital, where everything gathered, he'd learn more about Berik.
Ian descended the hill and reached the camp entrance. The gatekeeper had left due to Berik's uproar.
"Let's go."
Hasha tensed, stiffening his body. Inside, hardly a soul. They'd all rushed off to catch one intruder.
Kwang! Kbang!
Far off, thunderous booms confirmed it. Following Hasha's guidance, Ian headed to the camp's heart. Finding bodies mattered, but the carriage mattered more.
"Hasha. If you want, I'll let you down. I need to check the carriage first."
-Nothing I can do in this body. It's fine.
Ian dismounted and approached the parked carriages. A bandit emerged from behind a baggage compartment; Ian blasted him with mana without hesitation.
Pung!
A brief flash, and the bandit toppled backward.
'One, two, three...'
Everything plundered was intact. Confirming the mana stones, document stacks, and storage boxes unharmed, Ian nodded.
"No issues."
Hearing Ian's murmur, Hasha bolted ahead toward the distant central tent. Each step drew cold air into his lungs, numbing his head. All his nerves fixed on the tent.
Swipe.
"Hm?"
Upon reaching it, a massive man emerged. Partly because Hasha looked up, but his stature seemed to brush the ceiling.
"What?"
The bandit leader. Hasha froze and backed away. The man swiftly grabbed the dog's scruff, hoisting it up.
"Mutthead?"
Kiiing.
No choice to survive. Hasha flailed wildly, feigning ignorance to lower his guard.
Then.
"Meathead!"
Blood-soaked Berik bellowed. Dragging a corpse by the leg, he left the leader dumbfounded at the absurd sight.
"You're the boss?"
"You bastard!"
Whoosh!
The leader hurled Hasha and drew his axe. He'd thought it minor commotion. Successful raids often left underlings sleepless with revelry and booze.
"Your men were fun to chop. Great slicing feel."
"You mad bastard!"
Chaeng! Chaeng!
No hesitation. They charged, weapons clashing. Ear-piercing metal shrieks chilled the spine. Hasha, rolling on the ground, regained wits and slipped inside the tent.
"Hraaa!"
Ta-at!
A flicker of surprise crossed Berik's face. The bulk lived up to hype; his axe swings outpowered the others.
"Huff, huff..."
The leader, axe dropped, panted with beaded sweat. Berik, seeing it, demonstratively tossed his sword aside.
"......?"
"You seem better for punching than slicing."
"Keep talking big, you cheeky shit."
"Bet it'd hurt reaaal good from a guy like that~!"
Puk!
They lunged, fists flying simultaneously. Exchanges piled up. The leader sensed instinctive defeat as it dragged. He realized Berik was letting him land hits.
Ppak! Bbak!
Berik took more blows gradually. Blood smeared his fists—who's, unclear.
"Hahaha! Just as I thought! Nice firm meat, sticks well."
"Cuk-! Hek!"
Pueok!
Kung!
Final strike. Face pulped, the leader staggered into unconsciousness. Berik shook his hand lightly, reaching for his sword.
"Berik."
Ian's voice from behind. Turning, Ian on horseback signaled to stop.
"We have questions for him. Don't kill."
"Oh. Master here?"
Wipe. Berik smeared blood across his nose, beaming refreshingly.
"I paved the road nice."
"The road's a bit... bloody red."
"Fancy folks love red carpets."
The ground, a mess of spilled bandit blood. Hoofbeats squelched in soaked earth.
Ian dismounted, scanning Berik top to bottom. Blood-drenched, hard to tell if fine.
"Hasha?"
"Went inside?"
"You watch the bandit leader, just in case."
"Huh? I wanna see inside too."
Swipe.
Ignoring Berik, Ian headed to the tent entrance. Outside reeked, but inside vibrated with foulness. Ian followed Hasha's pawprints.
"Hasha?"
A small annex in the tent. Ian spotted Hasha's back, sitting meekly.
-You're here.
A blue-haired child's corpse sat in the chair. Bound with rope to hold posture, but limp without will, half-slumped. And advanced decay stench.
Hasha murmured at his shell.
-Death is like this.
He recalled his mirror self. Lively eyes, pale cheeks, dimples. Throat tight, he cleared it and continued.
-Now, no choice but return it to nature. As it should have been.
"Will that really be okay? No guarantee your soul remains."
-I don't know why necromancy control shifted. Better destroy before greedier eyes it. Outer bandit lives? Trouble if he wakes and casts ritual.
Logical. But judging rationally versus acting took great courage. Shattering his chance at human life himself.
"Hasha. I personally endorse your decision."
-......
No reply. No glance at Ian. Just etching his end in eyes till the last.
Ziiing.
Ian condensed mana, bursting the corpse's head. Brains spilled; the intact child's form warped. Unknowingly, a tear dropped from Hasha.
Now, truly crossed the unreturnable river.
Dead yet undead. Such an existence.