Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Home (3)
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The news that Jensen had vanished was enough to set Ban's mind ablaze.
Whether that murderer had truly kidnapped him or if Jensen had hidden himself away on purpose, Ban had no idea. But Jensen wasn't the type to disappear without a word, knowing full well it would worry everyone.
The guards couldn't even muster a welcoming expression when they saw Ban after so long. The air around him roared so ferociously that they could barely meet his eyes.
'What the hell is this?'
'That kid... he had this side to him too?'
People slunk away one by one. Ban vaulted over the fence without bothering with the gate and vanished from sight. His soaring leap drew every eye, but he had no spare attention for that.
Ban clambered up the steeple. With just a few pushes off footholds for his feet, his body was at the top in an instant.
—Calm down, Ban. Your breathing's ragged.
'I know.'
—We still don't know what really happened. Getting worked up like this could turn nothing into something. You get what I'm saying, right?
He knew. But Jensen was that precious to him. Over the past five years, through days where his body was never whole, one reason he hadn't given up was Jensen.
'Who could it be?'
Ban considered the possibility that Jensen had been kidnapped. Assuming it was the murderer, there were still unresolved questions. Why would he bother abducting an old pharmacist? What could he possibly gain from snatching one?
No, in that case, it wasn't the pharmacist he'd targeted... but the man called 'Jensen.'
To reason properly, Ban knew too little about Jensen. And they hadn't even met in those five years, so there was even less to go on.
—You sorted your thoughts?
"I've got a plan."
—...What plan?
"I'm holding out here."
Fortunately, the murderer was boldly showing himself here and there, continuing his killings. Time would reveal his trail eventually. And when it did, Ban would learn if there was any debt to settle between them.
The steeple looked precarious even to cling to, but Ban managed to perch comfortably at its tip. He widened his eyes and scanned the village. He never imagined he'd return to his beloved hometown with such a glare, but there was no helping it.
It wasn't hard. He'd done similar training dozens of times at the academy. He'd hidden for two straight days on a snow-covered mountain without sleep, and survived a week in the desert without water.
Compared to that, this—with an actual seat—was downright luxurious.
People flinched every time they spotted Ban atop the steeple. A few guards didn't recognize him and moved to intervene, but whether they saw the knight's emblem on his cloak or heard his name from onlookers, they found reasons to back off.
'Makes you wonder if he's staying hidden because he's scared of me?'
The thought crossed his mind briefly. But no, that didn't seem right. Some bodies had been found right in the middle of the square. A guy bold enough to kill in plain sight, where he could be caught any moment, wouldn't hide just because of that.
Night passed. Dawn came, then morning again. And so the second night arrived.
Ban hadn't slept a wink, but he wasn't exhausted. If he'd been active all night, maybe, but just sitting there? His stamina wasn't that soft. He could stretch anytime he wanted, too.
No telling when the target would show. Even if it took a week, Ban was confident he could stay up. His rage was too vast to crumble before fatigue.
And then, on the third night.
Ban's eyes sharpened.
In the next moment, his body was soaring through the sky.
Ban kicked off walls at times, leaped across rooftops at others. His body moved lightly and swiftly, as if made of feathers. 'Running.' Ban's running wasn't top-tier, but it was solidly upper ranks. And upper ranks at the academy meant...
It was beyond what could be confined to mere superhuman bounds.
The oblivious didn't even sense him passing overhead. Silently, swiftly, unbound by streets, Ban dashed on with a smile. He felt the target sense the pursuit and try to melt into the crowd, but it was meaningless.
No matter where he hid, Ban never stopped 'seeing' him.
Ban launched off a rooftop. The square. Amid the throng, people stared blankly at the man rising against the moonlight, then gasped and recoiled as he landed.
"O, sh, shit, what the hell!"
"Oh my, isn't that Ban?"
"Face looks like it... when did he get so big?"
"It's been years, so yeah, he could be that tall now."
People murmured. Ban slowly raised his head and glared at the target.
"Hey. Got a question."
".......What is it?"
Even with Ban dropping suddenly in front of him, the man showed no surprise or panic. Ban drew his broadsword. The fierce aura pouring steadily from it—whether from the blade or Ban himself—left people unable to guess.
"What is it? Beats me. What have *you* been up to?"
"No idea what this is about. Don't hold up a busy man. I've got work to—"
"Beats me? Then tell me what that work is. Let me guess. Butcher, right? The stench of blood's pouring off you."
As if. No one around could smell a thing, no matter how they sniffed.
But Ban couldn't be fooled. Academy knights trained their senses to the limit. His nose rivaled a dog's, picking up the inescapable odors clinging to the man's body.
"........"
"Cat got your tongue? Wrong guess? With blood reeking this bad, if not a butcher, what else could it be...."
"Beats me."
"That's the problem."
Ban grinned.
"I know."
Ban’s broadsword lashed out just as a razor-sharp machete was drawn from the man's worn coat—nearly simultaneous. A deafening clash erupted, and people screamed as they fled. Ban twisted his lips.
"Yeah, that's right, you bastard. Why pretend otherwise?"
"......Saw a free knight without a lord's crest and figured you for a fool..."
"You figured wrong."
"Maybe."
The man laughed darkly.
"And because I did, you're dying today."
The next instant, the machete swung. Ban eyed it carefully. Long for a machete. Made sense—that's how he bisected people so easily.
Ban swung his broadsword. A powerful strike. His skill as a swordsman aside, as a warrior, he was more than enough. Among those he'd faced, a memorable powerhouse.
But not enough.
Each time the machete met Ban's broadsword, it slid off in bizarre directions—toward the ground, the sky, even back at himself. He bent with astonishing flexibility to redirect it at Ban every time...
But Ban was certain he'd never be hit.
"You, what the..."
Panic finally dawned in the man's eyes. He'd fought knights before. They were always tricky, no matter how weak, but he'd cut them all down to stand here.
And a free knight at that. What were free knights? Ronin without a lord to take them in. For one to wield such fluid, beautiful swordplay...?
Ban answered with his blade. The machete glanced off. His eyes flashed, and in the next moment, his foot slammed into the man's solar plexus.
"Ghak!"
Swordsmen weren't weak at kicks. No, Ban's were fiercer than any self-proclaimed fighter's. Years of training had forged every inch of his body into a weapon.
The man rolled on the ground, vomiting blood. Ban lowered his broadsword and growled.
"You're still alive because I've got questions. Jensen. Know the name?"
Why the man was killing didn't matter. Whatever grand reason or tragic backstory—or if he was just a lunatic—Jensen's safety was all that counted.
An odd scene. Ban clearly dominated, yet he seemed the more anxious. The man sensed it and chuckled.
"Kuh... heh, beats me. Don't remember names all that well."
"You will."
Ban’s eyes blazed.
"I'm pretty pissed right now."
"Skill... impressive."
The man leaned against a wall and rose slowly. His hand dipped into his coat, pulling out a vial. That's when Ban's brow furrowed.
'That's...'
One of Jensen's vials.
The man bit off the cork and dumped the contents into his mouth. Ban watched impassively. The man laughed with a "Puhuhu."
"Haven't used this in ages... Impressive. Truly. Among swordsmen I've met, none stronger than you."
"What is it? You didn't look hurt."
The man grinned.
"Salvation's draught."
The next instant, the distant man was before Ban, machete swinging. Movement as swift as the Drampo Clan's spatial shift.
'.......Tch.'
Ban reflexively parried with his broadsword, but a sharp jolt hit his wrist. Not just speed. Power too.
'Like he's wielding a demon sword...'
Fast. Strong. Even his skin seemed tougher. How to counter? How to win?
Ban smirked. Pointless worry.
His broadsword rose. The machete never once touched his flesh. Nor would it.
Simple reason.
The drug made the man stronger, sure.
But Ban was still stronger.
That was all. A very simple story.