Chapter 23: Mom, You're Crossing the Line (2)
Chapter 23: Mom, You're Crossing the Line (2)
A single strike.
Silence fell over the room.
Billy’s subordinates, as well as Red’s men—who were on Petrick’s side—all stood frozen.
What is that monster?
I heard he was a helper the Master brought along...
That kid?
Is he even a kid? Just now... what was that...
The hulking man Petrick had just cut down was one of the top ten swordsmen in the Thieves' Guild.
Such a man had been killed without being able to do a single thing, likely without even realizing how he died.
Startled by the sight, Billy stammered, "Ki... No, who are you?"
"Me? Petrick."
"Who the hell is that?"
"You don't know? You really don't know me?"
At Petrick’s question, Billy snapped irritably.
"Dammit, how am I supposed to know a precocious brat like you?"
"Hmm. Right. I see."
Petrick nodded and glanced back at Red.
That pretty-faced fellow had known exactly what Petrick had done since entering the city and where he came from the moment he heard his name. It meant he was diligently performing his role as an information broker.
Compared to him, this snake-like bald man didn't have a clue, even after being given a name. He didn't even know who had been moving large sums of money in his own city recently.
"Lazy as hell."
"What?"
"Were you always this lazy? Or did you get lazy once your belly started getting fat?"
"Wh-what? You little brat..."
"Anyway, you're out. I think the other guy is better after all."
What Petrick needed was someone who could obtain and deliver accurate information from the outside quickly. He had briefly weighed Red and Billy against each other, but the scales tipped overwhelmingly toward Red. Therefore...
"You should just die."
The moment he spoke, Petrick’s body vanished.
"Gah!"
Billy gasped. The boy who had been standing right there suddenly reappeared directly in front of him.
And he was aiming for Billy's throat.
"Farewell."
Petrick’s blade swung toward Billy’s neck. Billy couldn't react at all. However...
Clang!
"Oh?"
Petrick looked surprised.
For the first time since being born into this world, someone had blocked his attack.
Of course, it wasn't a small fry like Billy.
The one who had parried Petrick’s strike was one of the five mercenaries waiting behind Billy. One of them had thrust forward a Round Shield to intercept the blow.
And that wasn't all.
Swish!
A broadsword held in the mercenary's other hand lunged toward Petrick’s face with sharp momentum.
Petrick tilted his head slightly to dodge the attack and tried to swing his other sword, but before he could, the opponent shoved him back with the shield.
"Haaah!"
Petrick didn't resist the heavy shoving force; instead, he flowed with it and leaped backward.
After landing lightly, he looked at the man with slightly surprised eyes.
Ho, not bad at all.
The man had blocked his attack and even launched a counter. Furthermore, the way he used the shield to push him back wasn't just a crude shove; it was a disciplined, well-executed maneuver.
"Captain! Are you alright?"
"Be careful. This is no ordinary brat."
"Yes, Captain!"
"Tight formation! Shields forward!"
"Yes, sir!"
The mercenary who had blocked Petrick took a stance with a tense expression. Following his orders, his subordinates lined up to his left and right.
As the five mercenaries packed together to block the narrow second-floor hallway, a human wall was instantly formed.
"Ah, I see. So that's how it is."
Petrick nodded as if he understood something after seeing the mercenaries' formation.
They were covered in heavy iron plates to protect their vitals and carried shields—things that martial artists in the Jianghu rarely used because they were cumbersome. He had wondered how they fought with such gear, but seeing them line up to form a wall made it clear.
By huddling together, they eliminated weaknesses on their flanks and used their shields to handle frontal threats.
It’s a fairly rational method. Looking at it this way, shields aren't so bad.
In truth, Petrick hadn't encountered a single person of real skill since coming to this world. Brian, who strutted around the territory calling himself a 2-Star Knight, was just a hack. Red, the Master of the Thieves' Guild, was decent, but by Petrick’s standards, he was just a greenhorn. Crucially, they hadn't really faced off as enemies.
But now.
Before Petrick’s eyes were enemies holding their ground with the weight of a boulder. To those glaring at him from their sturdy formation, Petrick spoke.
"You're quite good. What's your name?"
At the question, the opponent bared his teeth and growled fiercely.
"You've got a foul mouth for a brat. I am Georges, the Survivor of Andmion."
"What? You?"
Petrick put on a look of great surprise. Seeing this, the man named Georges gave a greasy smirk and was about to say something when...
"But what the hell is that?"
"Pfft!"
"Heh..."
In an instant, laughter that didn't fit the tense situation erupted.
Georges gritted his teeth. "Did you not know?"
"How would I know?"
"Then why did you act like you did?"
"People like you usually like it when I do that. Didn't you feel a sense of pride? Like, 'Ah, I'm so famous that even a kid like this knows me.' Be honest, didn't you feel that?"
"..."
Georges' face turned bright red. He had clearly been hit where it hurt.
He ground his teeth. "You arrogant little shit."
"You arrogant old shit."
"You just won't let a single word go, will you?"
"And you're getting owned word for word, aren't you?"
He couldn't win with words. Not in a million years.
Georges gritted his teeth and gripped his sword and shield tightly.
"I'll capture you alive and skin you myself."
"Oh, I'm so scared. A grown man throwing a tantrum..."
Petrick chuckled and settled into a combat stance.
Unlike the relaxed Petrick, Red, who was watching the situation, bit his lip.
The Survivor of Andmion? Then he's the real deal. How did Billy manage to hire someone like that?
Andmion was the capital of the recently fallen Kreutz Kingdom. Or rather, it used to be the capital.
When the Kreutz Kingdom reached its end due to war, the capital was besieged, and its king held out in a war of attrition against the city walls until the very end.
That period lasted for ten years. For ten years, they conducted a siege with only the capital remaining.
They held out desperately, but the end eventually came. With not a single arrow or grain of wheat left, they finally set the capital ablaze, and the remaining soldiers marched out to meet their end in battle.
It was the symbol of the most wretched and gruesome war in recent continental history.
That was Andmion.
If he had survived that place, it meant this mercenary Georges was a true veteran, cut from a different cloth than the usual rabble.
Red knew Petrick was a monster. He knew, but...
The opponent is no pushover either.
Red watched the duel with a nervous gaze.
*
"You're decent. If you were thrown into the Jianghu, you'd be treated as a fairly useful wanderer."
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
"Nothing. Just talking to myself. More importantly, are you ready?"
"Come at me if you dare!"
Petrick chuckled at the enemy's gallant shout. He tapped the floor with the ball of his foot and said, "I'm coming for real this time."
"Come!"
"I'm going. Really going. Here I come."
"Stop playing... Urgh!"
"Aaaagh!"
"Gah..."
Craaaack!
It happened in a heartbeat.
The moment Petrick vanished, a streak of light slammed into the wall formed by the five sturdy mercenaries.
Twin Dragons Eight Sword Styles, Third Form
Flash Dragon Strike
It was the technique Petrick had enjoyed using most in his past life. It was an attack that involved charging head-on and converting that speed into pure destructive power to shatter the enemy in front of him. No matter how solid the defense, there were only a handful of shields in his past life that he hadn't been able to break with this.
It's been a while since I used it...
Petrick frowned.
Georges, who had taken the Flash Dragon Strike head-on, was sent flying backward as his shield shattered into pieces. His subordinates were also knocked down by the aftershocks of the impact.
But that was it. No one was dead; they were all still alive.
If it had been the Flash Dragon Strike used by Jincheon, the Radiant Dragon Hero of his past life, it would be a question of whether these greenhorns' corpses would even be intact, let alone whether they were alive.
I'm still a long way off. A very long way.
Petrick realized he was still far from reclaiming the martial prowess of his previous life.
"Ugh... uuuugh... gah..."
The fallen Georges belatedly regained consciousness. He tried to get up and regain his stance. If he was alive, he had to fight. That was the way of a mercenary...
"Aaargh!"
As he tried to push himself off the floor, a sudden surge of agonizing pain sent him rolling back down. The arm that had been holding the shield was broken and dangling uselessly.
"...A monster."
Only then did he realize. 'Strong' wasn't enough to describe this. This was a being on an entirely different level. It was only a single strike, but he could clearly feel the presence of despair.
Georges stared blankly at his broken arm, and Petrick spoke to him as if he were pathetic.
"What are you doing?"
"..."
"You should get back up."
A sudden chill ran down Georges' spine, and goosebumps broke out over his entire body. There was no chance of winning. Once he realized that, only one choice remained.
He hurriedly shouted to his subordinates, "Everyone, scatter and run—"
Slash! Slash!
the moment the word 'run' left his mouth, several streaks of light cut through the fallen subordinates. After the light passed, their heads slowly slid off their necks and fell to the floor.
Blood sprayed from the collapsed bodies, and before he knew it, Petrick was standing right in front of him.
Petrick looked down at the terrified man with an indifferent expression.
"Hey, kid."
"Ugh... uuuuh..."
"You're out of luck."
"Aaaaaagh!"
He swung his broadsword in a desperate struggle. But Petrick’s sword took his head first.
*
Huff... huff... huff...
Billy ran. He didn't look back; he just ran and ran.
I have to get out of here. I have to run far away. Otherwise, I'll die.
He knew this feeling. A long time ago, back when he was a small-time thug, he had been caught trying to pick the pocket of a titan.
[You must be insane. To dare target my wallet.]
[Plea... Please... Please spare me. I failed to recognize Your Grace the Duke...]
That had been a true titan. Power, wealth, and individual strength—everything about him was overwhelming. Billy had found it hard to even breathe just by meeting that man's eyes.
I'm going to die. I'm really going to die. This is the end.
Billy had felt the reality of death more strongly then than at any other time in his life. But back then...
[Brother, he's pitiful, so please let him go.]
[If you say so... Get lost.]
Billy had bowed his head in gratitude, begging and pleading as he retreated. He had barely managed to save his life thanks to someone's pity. But Billy would never forget those few dozen seconds he spent groveling before that man.
That feeling of being judged by an overwhelmingly powerful being. That feeling of being a mere insect being crushed.
That feeling...
To think I'd feel it again.
Georges and his mercenaries, whom he had hired for a fortune, were all dead. And by the hands of a brat who still had peach fuzz on his face. No, could he even call that thing a brat?
It was a monster. It was the sprout of a titan whose name and face might one day be known by everyone on this continent.
"Why did a bastard like that have to appear in front of me!?"
Billy screamed as he ran and ran. If he could just leave the city, settle somewhere else, and somehow make a comeback...
"Yo, you're a good runner."
"Aaaaaagh!"
Billy shrieked in terror at the voice right next to him. His feet tangled, and he tripped, scraping his entire face against the ground.
Petrick chuckled at the fallen Billy.
"People like you might be dim-witted, but you've got good instincts. But what can I do? I don't let quick-witted bad guys get away."
Petrick, holding a sword in each hand, slowly approached the collapsed Billy. Watching him, Billy’s teeth chattered as his whole body trembled.
"Ugh... uuuuh..."
Petrick stood over him and spoke coldly.
"Any last words?"
"Plea... Please... Please spare me."
"Yeah, no."
"Uuuuh..."
"Nothing else to say? Then time to die."
Petrick raised the sword in his right hand. To Billy, the slow movement of that blade felt as terrifying as the Grim Reaper raising his scythe. He threw away all his pride and prostrated himself, begging desperately.
"Please spare me. If you just let me live, I'll live a good life. I'll live while giving to others."
"I told you to leave your last words, and you spout this bullshit..."
"I beg of you. If you just let me live, I'll give you my entire fortune. Please, spare me."
Billy knew. To titans like this, money wasn't that important. Still, it was just something he said while babbling anything to survive. There was no way that monster would spare him just for money...
"Oh? Really? You'll give me your entire fortune?"
"..."
Was it working?