Dwain, Leader of the Crimson Bandits (4)

"Aren't you tired?"

I yawned wide and stretched my arms as I walked over to our Great Warrior, who had been silently working up a sweat since the crack of dawn.

"What are you doing?"

"Training."

Talk about terse. Ivar didn't even glance my way. He just kept throwing punch after punch, as if he were sparring with some invisible opponent. His movements looked a lot like a boxer's — except instead of gloves, gray Aura wrapped around his fists.

"Take it easy, will you?"

"Yeah."

"Don't just brush me off. You were fighting late into the night yesterday."

"I know."

He answered readily enough, but he clearly had no intention of taking a break.

"If you're going to be like that, just ignore me."

"I'll do that from now on."

Stubborn as a mule, as always. I stood off to the side and watched him quietly, figuring I would cast a holy spell on him once he finished training. Those rough, unpolished movements kept coming. One punch after another drove forward with raw, relentless force.

"I wish I could fight like you."

Supporting my comrades from the rear was all well and good, but my body was itching for more. I wanted to go head-to-head with an enemy and beat them straight into the dirt.

"Your body couldn't handle it."

"I know. I was just saying."

This body of mine was far too frail. If I punched an enemy, I would probably just break my own bones.

"If you want, I can teach you the basics."

Ivar still wouldn't look at me as he spoke.

"Really? Isn't that your family's traditional fist art?"

"Punching is punching. It's all the same in the end."

Just because he was talking it down didn't mean I was going to agree. People trash-talk the things they love all the time.

"That's a lot of pressure."

"If the enemy targets you specifically, I might not be able to stop them. Learn it just in case."

A sliver of worry mixed into that gruff tone. In his own way, he was looking out for me.

"Like I said, it's a common, useless fist art. You don't have to feel bad about accepting."

"But your brother became a knight with it, didn't he?"

Ivar's punching arm froze. Then he suddenly turned and started walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk."

He vanished so fast without looking back that I couldn't even catch him.

You made a mistake.

I was standing there blankly, wondering what that was about, when the Goddess pointed out where I had gone wrong.

Ivar grew up being compared to his brother. He has a bit of an inferiority complex.

"Even though he's the only family Ivar has left?"

Think about why they don't talk, and why they lost contact.

I hadn't been careful enough. I stood there awkwardly in place, waiting for him to come back.

Make sure you apologize.

"I will."

I was lucky to have the Goddess. She would always be by my side, catching my mistakes.

"Did you know?"

I whispered to Eluke. Ivar's older brother — the knight who had become a bandit. An unexpected person had popped up in an unexpected place.

"I had no idea whatsoever. The leader of the Crimson Bandits never shows his face, does he?"

"Right?"

"There must be complicated circumstances involved."

A Guardian who had become a vampire was already enough of a headache. This situation didn't look any simpler.

"His name was Dwain, right?"

"Yeah."

Must have been a twin thing. Both the older and younger brother talked like golems — stiff and rigid.

"Did you tell the Guardian to become the Vampire Lord?"

"I merely suggested it."

"Convince me why I should help you."

For now, my heart was leaning toward refusal. How was I supposed to just agree when they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠demanded support out of nowhere? This was a decision that needed careful judgment. The Guardian was tangled up in it, so I needed grounds to back whatever I chose. If their purpose and direction were right, I was willing to become their ally.

"If I said it's because a vampire's life is precious too, that would be the end of it."

"I would like to speak with you alone. Would that be all right?"

"Fine by me."

Having just the two of us would make it easier to watch him. If he tried anything funny, I would attack immediately. Twin brother of Ivar or not, I wasn't going to cut him any slack. We were strangers who had just met, after all.

"I'll be downstairs."

Wipilud headed down to the first floor before anyone even asked.

"Then I shall go have a few more words with the Guardian."

"Please do."

That left just the two of us in the attic. I stood in front of Dwain, who was still sitting with his back against the wall.

"Happy now? What did you want to say?"

Those bright red eyes slowly looked up at me.

"Did Ivar meet an end worthy of a Great Warrior?"

A question that dug into a scar that had barely healed. I felt a little irritated.

"He died fighting bravely to the very end, never yielding even to the Demon King's might."

"Then that is enough."

For some reason, he looked satisfied.

"You're not even sad?"

"If he died protecting his comrades, that is something to celebrate."

"......"

I was already at a loss for words.

"Our family aspires to a life that ends at the hands of the strong. Ivar had the honor of dying to the Demon King. He would have been satisfied."

A warrior who worshipped honor to excess. The older brother was even more of a hardhead than the younger one.

This conversation isn't going to go smoothly, is it.

I was already getting frustrated. I sat down comfortably on the floor. This wasn't going to wrap up anytime soon.

"You told me to convince you."

Now that we were at eye level, I could properly see the features that radiated his stubborn nature.

"Unfortunately, I have no such way with words. I have spent my entire life doing nothing but training."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"A warrior must find a way to survive even in a difficult situation."

Dwain's eyes snapped wide open, unflinching.

"I will lay out the entire story. If it moves you, become our ally."

In other words, he was going to tug at my heartstrings with no shame about it whatsoever.

"How about it?"

"Give it a shot."

No amount of pleading was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going to shake me easily. The Crimson Bandits were a criminal organization, plain and simple. They had attacked countless travelers and drained their blood. Things might be different now, but the past didn't just disappear.

"Don't squeeze out any tears. That'll just backfire."

A "villain with a tragic backstory" was only appealing in fiction. In real life, they were just despicable criminals playing the victim.

You picked the wrong person. Our Clitia is a ruthless destroyer of sentiment!

I ignored the useless commentary and focused on the situation in front of me.

"I will start with why I became a bandit."

And just like that, story time began.

"The root of all our suffering was the Emperor."

The Emperor. A dangerous man who had given a lot of people headaches.

"What tyranny did he pull this time?"

"He ordered us to massacre the refugees who had flocked to the capital. Said they were too filthy-looking to be worth taking care of."

"......"

I understood the situation immediately.

"So you ran away with the refugees?"

"Yes. I would rather disobey an imperial order than kill civilians who were not even warriors."

The former knight and current bandit closed his eyes bitterly, as if recalling those memories.

"We came to the Devastation Zone to escape the Emperor's eyes. You can probably guess what kind of situation we ran into."

Nothing around, and too many mouths to feed. Not even enough food for a single day. A hopeless future. People trapped in a harsh reality were easy prey for temptation.

"That is when a Pureblood Vampire came and offered a hand."

It would have been a hard offer to refuse. It meant escaping the immediate crisis.

"We decided to keep living, even if it meant becoming people of the night."

A small sigh escaped me.

"So that's how you ended up stealing blood? From ordinary people who weren't even warriors?"

"If I had been alone, I would have chosen death. But I had a great many people depending on me."

Survival, and nothing else. The result of running forward with eyes only on not dying — that was the Crimson Bandits.

"Then one day, while we were scraping by like garbage, Wipilud showed up."

Dwain opened his eyes.

"He saved us. He gave us back a life worthy of human beings and let us dream of a future."

Hope and vitality bloomed across that stubborn face — just like the village scenery I had seen on the way here.

"Wipilud has the power to fix this broken reality. He is the Guardian chosen by the Goddess, after all."

The story was reaching its conclusion.

"If he becomes a leader, the world will respect us too."

"......"

"Not just our bandits — even the Pureblood Vampires who have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been persecuted just for being weak to sunlight will all be saved."

In the end, Dwain's goal was the same as Wipilud's. The direction was quite different, though.

"That is the end of my story."

I met Dwain's gaze without looking away, as he waited for my answer.

"There's one thing you've got wrong."

"What?"

"Do you really think vampires are discriminated against because they're weak to sunlight?"

The root cause was something else entirely.

"Pureblood Vampires see the weak as food."

Behavior that was practically instinct. Not much different from mosquitoes.

"They even treat other vampires as prey if they're weak enough."

"As far as I know, only the Vampire Lord..."

"That's their average."

The Vampire Lord was actually on the milder side. And he was plenty vicious as it was.

"You know why they saved you? To raise you as livestock."

Vampires grazing their cattle across a vast stretch of land, all to harvest fresh blood. That was the true nature of the Crimson Bandits.

"I'll help you — on the condition that we wipe out all the Pureblood Vampires."

I wanted to exterminate those mosquitoes who had used desperate people to fill their own bellies.

"I do not like that."

An unexpected refusal.

"You want me to throw away the debt I owe to those who helped us in our time of need?"

"It wasn't even goodwill."

"Even if they hid their filthy motives, it does not change anything. I have no intention of betraying my benefactors."

A familiar-sounding declaration. It was similar to the resolve Ruel had shown during mental training. Did training in martial arts just make everyone like this? I remembered something my master used to say, and I couldn't bring myself to argue.

"So you won't help?"

"That is correct."

The negotiation collapsed, leaving only a chilly atmosphere.

"In that case, I will not cooperate with you either."

A standoff had begun.

"I hear you have been asking my members all sorts of questions. You have business with the Pureblood Vampires too, do you not?"

A threat, for all intents and purposes. Sentiment hadn't worked, so now he was forcing me to lend my strength if I wanted information.

Shall we handle this the Clitia way?

"Guess we should."

Leave it to Sun-bask. The thoughts that had started to stall suddenly cleared right up.

"Here's what we'll do."

I stood up from my seat and straightened.

"We'll fight. The loser follows the winner's word."

No matter how much mouths flapped, fists were the real problem-solver in the end.

"I like that proposal. How about we fight until one of us surrenders?"

"If that's what you want."

A bandit leader who admired a warrior's death. A banished saintess who yearned for defeat. The match of the century was on.

"I do not understand what you are saying."

Eluke made no effort to hide her bewilderment.

"Why can we not kill mosquitoes?"

"Mosquitoes are living things too. You shouldn't kill them carelessly."

Was he serious? Wipilud's mental world was even more bizarre than she had imagined.

"Then what do you do when they buzz around at night?"

"You just have to endure it."

Even the Church forbade killing except when unavoidable, but pests were an exception. Wasn't this going too far?

"If you build up your patience, it's bearable."

This was an elf one should never associate with. She was shaking her head in disgust when—

A sacred, noble voice rang through her mind. For the first time since coming to this world.

"What's wrong?"

"I shall step outside for a moment."

This was no time to deal with a strange elf. Eluke hurried out of the house and whispered quietly in a corner.

"Goddess?"

A warm voice that soothed the heart. It was a different Goddess, but it had been so long that she was overwhelmed.

"For what purpose have You sought me?"

This is important, so listen carefully.

The Goddess's words went on at length before they finally ended.

Do you understand?

"O Sun, must it truly be me?"

She had no choice but to confirm it carefully. The crushing weight of it was too frightening to accept right away.

Eluke squeezed her eyes shut.