Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: A Slightly Strong Novice (2)
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The bandit leader was strong.
He was strong enough to gather and command a ragtag bunch of bandits.
However, against Citadel Academy knight trainees... and the top four at that... he simply didn't have the skill to hold his own.
Finding the bandits wasn't hard. Jeo didn't even need to call upon his dog's sense of smell. They had brazenly taken over what was once a village and were living it up there.
That made sense. Nomads had wandered through and roughly settled this place, so hardly anyone paid it any mind, and naturally, there was no need to worry about noble-led subjugation forces. If they hadn't been academy trainees, it would have been a given that the bandits wouldn't run into any trouble.
That was why Ban personally became their natural disaster.
Anya's White Flame set their dry fences ablaze. Before Ban could even act, Jeo charged forward with flashing eyes, twisting the limbs of every bandit in sight, and whenever Yeoryeong swung her broadsword, at least five grown men would lose a limb.
It was an overwhelming clash. No, it couldn't even be called a fight. The leader charged out, furious, and lunged at them. He had decent skill. His kukri knife rippled with a bloody qi aura. Against a first-year academy student, he could have put up a fight and lost without it being surprising.
But Ban wasn't a first-year.
And that alone... was reason enough for the leader to die.
It was a single stroke. He didn't even need to draw on the First Sword, the Second Sword, or any such techniques. A clean slash. The bandits didn't even register they'd been cut as the single stroke passed by, and in the next instant, the leader's head fell.
"...I can't believe it."
That night. Ban and his group were gifted a bath instead of a feast. Washing in a tub filled with hot water was said to be the greatest luxury in the desert regions. They'd added so much bath salts that he felt like the scent would linger on his body for months after this bath.
"Not even a borderland, and bandits are rampant in a place like this? Sure, bandits are everywhere. But openly taking over a whole village?"
"Hmm... Ban. Where did you say you were from again?"
"Near Vermon. The border between the east and central regions... the northern part."
"You came from a pretty safe neighborhood."
"...I've heard that, yeah."
He just hadn't imagined security could be this bad. Unless it was someone unimaginably strong, but to be taken down so easily by just four knight trainees...
'Are we too strong?'
Even so, it still didn't sit right. An ownerless desert or not, for over a year while these people suffered, no one had come to help them.
— Our revolution will carve out the rotten sores of this world.
Oben's words echoed in his ears. Ban dunked his face in the water. Bubbles rose past his ears for a long while. Slowly, he lifted his head. His black hair clung to his face, soaked, and he shrugged with a somewhat refreshed expression.
"Eh, whatever."
Worries could wait. It had been ages since his last bath. For now, enjoy it. Plenty of water... and a bright moon. Wasn't it a shame to waste such a night on childish frets?
"For a first mission taste, it wasn't bad... I hope the next ones are this easy."
"I doubt it."
Jeo shook his head. Truth be told, they hadn't come to this desert for this mission. There was another mission that had truly drawn them in, and this one... well, it was just something they handled on the way.
"It's a mission straight from one of the Nine Great Clans. If it were easy, they wouldn't have requested the academy."
"...Wouldn't it be better for them to just handle it themselves?"
"There must be a reason."
Jeo shrugged.
The mission came from the Shiraz Clan, known for dominating "spirits." For Ban, it was a family he'd never encountered. The Shiraz Clan was famous for not sending their blood kin to the academy.
"Capture a runaway clan member... Doesn't seem like something you'd outsource to outsiders."
"Don't pry into family internal affairs. It's usually best not to know."
"Have you met Shiraz Clan people before?"
Among the swords he'd crossed, none had been from the Shiraz Clan. Of course, outside of academy spars, fights with the Nine Great Clans weren't exactly common... Jeo said with a sullen expression.
"Hmm... How to put it. Creepy guys?"
"...Creepy?"
"You'll see when you meet them."
Jeo shook his head as if just thinking about it gave him chills. Water droplets, precious as jewels in the desert, scattered carelessly.
"Gives me the shivers. Those guys."
§
"Nice to meet you. So you're the ones from Citadel Academy."
'...Now I get why he said creepy.'
Ban rubbed away the goosebumps creeping up his hand. At a glance, they seemed ordinary. Their dark-tanned skin—whether from birth or the desert heat—was ambiguous, but their features, heights, builds, and even eye colors varied wildly. Anyone would wonder if they were really relatives.
Yet, the two men standing before him spoke the exact same words at the exact same moment, as if scripted.
"It must have been tough getting here from the academy. The desert's been so hot lately it's drying up the sweat..."
"We rested on the way, so it wasn't too bad."
At Ban's words, both turned their heads to look at him in unison. Ban barely suppressed a start. Strength aside, their synchronized movements evoked an instinctive revulsion, like they were one person. The Shiraz men narrowed their eyes and smiled.
"Shiraz knows of you. Ban. They say you're the top prospect of this academy class? We've been very impressed."
"...Thank you. I didn't realize my reputation had reached here."
"Shiraz knows few things not worth knowing. Like the fact that a former family member—a runaway—is here..."
They trailed off together, bowed their heads in unison, and sighed. Their speech shifted from polite to casual to rude. They lifted their heads and smiled. The smiles on their faces still felt somehow inorganic.
— Shiraz people must connect their minds to each other once they come of age.
Jeo's words. Ban hadn't understood them before, but now he did. And he understood why that clan member had fled.
The Shiraz men adjusted their turbans in unison. Then they continued slowly.
"When can you undertake the mission?"
"We can do it right away. We've heard you've already pinpointed the target's location."
"You must be wondering why we don't capture him ourselves..."
"Can't you?"
Ban asked in a low voice. There was no reason not to, so if they'd outsourced it, that must be why. Despite the potentially provocative question, the Shiraz men laughed. They looked at Ban with strange eyes and said,
"Even if he hasn't become one, he still carries Shiraz blood. That bastard can't catch us, but we can't catch his like either. Got it?"
"...Yeah, I get the gist."
"We'll tell you his location and description. So..."
And that evening.
Ban and his group stood before the slums of the desert city, Humton. They wore black robes instead of academy cloaks, but the dangerous aura they exuded kept even the beggars from begging.
"A heir of a Great Clan, living in a place like this..."
"...Rather than sell his soul to the Shiraz wealth and glory, he chose to live poor but as himself."
Yeoryeong said with a sneer. It was unclear who the sneer was aimed at—the Shiraz Clan, or the one who couldn't bear its fate.
'It was a special-grade mission. This one.'
A special-grade mission from the Shiraz Clan. And the content? Simply capture one person.
What kind of figure makes capturing a single man a special-grade mission?
The question didn't linger. Jeo approached Ban with a slightly excited voice.
"Hey, Ban. We've got a tail."
"...I know. Means we're on the right track."
"Lots of eyes on us. Wanna just charge straight in?"
"I'd like to say let's be careful, but..."
Ban soon grinned. Battle lust curved into an inevitable smile.
"Too late for that, huh?"
That was the moment. All sorts of hidden weapons rained down from every direction—poison needles, throwing stars, shuriken, stones—along with people charging while gripping swords.
But Jeo, Yeoryeong, and Anya didn't move. It wasn't that they couldn't react. There was just no need.
First Sword. Deflection.
Ban’s broadsword rang out. Yes, it was like a cry. The flash of the blade, the trailing afterimage, the sound slicing the air—each infused with qi, began enveloping their surroundings.
'Over there.'
Ban’s eyes gleamed. If he wanted, he could make all these attacks drop harmlessly right now. But "deflect" carried a slightly different nuance from "neutralize."
He could truly deflect the attacks aimed at him.
Sometimes, even toward his target.
Every attack entering the broadsword's domain began flying toward one spot. Individually mere small projectiles, but dozens launched at once were practically artillery fire.
Boom! A sound like a meteor strike. Ban twisted his lips as he eyed the collapsed wall and rising dust.
"Time to head home, young master."
By now, Humton's warriors surrounded them, glaring murderously. But the sweat trickling down Ban's neck wasn't from them. Anya bit her lip hard, gripping her staff.
"Ban, that person..."
"Yeah. I know."
Strong. Feeling the stinging prickle like static on his skin, Ban reflexively smiled. Before death, he always felt alive. Before old Oben's sword, the wraith captain's blade, Urong's fists.
A man emerged through the dust. He held neither sword nor fist clenched. But his pressure was no less than Urong's.
"Cho Clan, Eustaine, even Nahar... Hmm, and a pretty interesting-looking fellow too. Strange combo. From the academy?"
"Yes. We got a request. To find a runaway son."
"Hah, hey, friend. Watch your words. How's a thirty-something a runaway? Maybe if he entered monkhood."
"We heard he left home in his teens."
"...This is what's wrong with you young folks nowadays. Always sassing back at your elders. Wasn't like that in my day."
He sighed with a glum expression. He had a handsome face. No, handsome didn't do it justice... it was a beautiful face. His skin was as bronzed as any Shiraz clansman's, but the sun must have tanned it with an artist's touch.
When his golden eyes sparkled, even Ban, another man, couldn't help but admire. He'd never seen anyone more suited to the word "beauty." The man sighed again.
"What a mess. The young ones want to drag me off, but I’ve got no plans to end my travels. Your eyes look fierce for talk, so force it is?"
"You'll have to."
"Hey, Nahar miss. I hear you don't like hassle. I'm a pretty hassly guy. Super clingy. Why not give up and find another mission?"
No answer. He hummed.
"Hmm... Eustaine? Cho? What about you? Really gonna hand this poor old man over to that scary Shiraz Clan?"
"Sorry, mister. I hate failing a mission before graduation."
Yeoryeong smiled sweetly. The man ran a hand through his hair, frowning.
"...You brats nowadays can't tell heads from tails."
"That hurts, sir."
Ban drew not just his broadsword but his dagger too. Heat and exhilaration clouded his mind in a haze. He fixed the man with feral eyes.
"We're a bit strong for brats."
An enemy of a type he'd never faced. Even with Jeo, Anya, and Yeoryeong holding firm beside him... their presences faded against his overwhelming one.
But so what?
Ban now knew how precious an enemy you could throw everything at was. His usual worries and thoughts receded. The naive boy Ban vanished, and the swordsman slowly took his place.
An enemy before him. Far tastier than expected.
He thought he could hold back, but no.
This was gonna be too fun.