Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: Mesen's Brothers (4)
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Two of the six horses had gashes on their hind legs, while four had been stolen outright.
Half of the stolen horses turned up at the village outskirts, the other half by the riverbank. The ones at the edge of town were unharmed, but those by the river were a different story.
"Damn, tsk... They tied 'em up so they couldn't move and stabbed 'em to hell and back. What's the point of doing this to dumb beasts that can't even talk...? Hell, they wrecked the saddles, stirrups, the whole harness..."
Gullak grimaced and clicked his tongue. Just as he said, the two horses lay dead, bound tight with ropes and riddled with deep wounds. Swarms of flies buzzed wildly around their corpses, where blood and entrails had spilled out.
Duncan wrinkled his nose and tilted his head.
"Why go to the trouble of dragging 'em all the way out here to kill 'em? If they meant to steal 'em, they wouldn't have bothered killing. If they just wanted 'em dead, a quick stab would've done it..."
"Probably figured they'd just tie 'em up and leave at first. Rode around a bit, sobered up some, started worrying about the fallout... Then the horses kept whinnying like mad, spooked 'em into finishing the job. Damn worthless scum, not even fit to eat horse shit fly larvae..."
"..."
Losing their mounts threw a massive wrench into the journey. They couldn't just let a mess like this slide. Enrico took Kadim and headed straight for the vigilante outpost.
The captain, upon hearing the story, widened his beady eyes and made a huge fuss.
"Good lord, such an unsavory incident? As the man responsible for Mesen's security, I can't just stand by. We'll launch an investigation right away and track down the culprits..."
"No need for any investigation. It was your proud vigilantes who did it. One of them picked a fight with our mercenary and maid, then got petty revenge."
Even as Enrico spat his furious accusation, the captain played innocent without missing a beat.
"Pardon? What on earth are you saying? Our vigilantes would never stoop to that. They're Mesen's proud brothers, who take pride in protecting travelers and the village. Men, anyone here mess with these folks' horses yesterday?"
"No, Captain!"
"..."
"There you have it. Must be some misunderstanding. Did you actually see our men do it with your own eyes? You're not just slandering us without proof, are you?"
The dozen or so men standing nearby gripped their spears in unison. The captain's narrowed eyes gleamed with smug defiance—the look of a man saying, What are you gonna do about it?, utterly at ease in his corruption.
BAM!
A sudden roar made everyone flinch.
The sound came from where Kadim stood. His fist had smashed the wall like an iron mace, leaving cracks spiderwebbing out with chunks crumbling down.
Kadim casually brushed the dust off his hand.
"This town's got a real fly problem."
"..."
"Flies that think they can buzz around no matter how hard you swat 'em."
The men swallowed hard in fear. But the captain held firm. A razor-sharp tension hung between him and Kadim as they locked eyes.
Before the room could turn into a bloodbath, Enrico stepped in. He shot the captain a glare, grabbed Kadim, and hustled them both out of the outpost.
Once they reached a quiet spot, Enrico pleaded earnestly.
"Phew, I'm truly sorry you've had to witness such ugliness... Deep down, I'd love nothing more than to watch you cut those vermin down right now. But this is still... my jurisdiction. If blood gets spilled, the locals will panic, and cleanup will be a nightmare."
"..."
"...Of course, I'm not letting this slide. Last night, I quietly sent one soldier to Remtana. He'll bring replacement horses and lead the inspectors here to deal with the vigilantes properly. Could you just hold off on any trouble until then?"
Enrico looked half-dead on his feet, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He hadn't gotten proper rest even where he should have.
Kadim gave a wry smile. Swallow your patience and wait through crap like this? Regret hit hard—he never should've taken the escort gig.
But he quickly shifted gears.
"My job's to guard you, Inspector."
"...Right."
"So if those bastards try to harm you, I can wipe 'em all out, no problem?"
"..."
No answer came.
*
The soldier from Remtana wouldn't return for at least another day, even at best speed.
With the downtime, Kadim decided to keep his promise to the merchant. When he offered to teach him how to fight, Duncan followed eagerly to the fields at the village edge, face alight with strange anticipation.
It didn't take long for that anticipation to twist into agony and despair.
"For a beginner slicing throats, spear or club is best—but we don't have those, so sword it is. What do you think's most important in sword fighting?"
"Uh... well, from watching you... raw power that can cleave bone?"
"Wrong. Long reach, quick feet, and the guts to thrust without hesitation. Man, monster—most things die from one good stab."
"...B-but there are monsters and demons blades can't pierce, right? What if we run into one without you?"
"Run or die. You thinking of beating 'em with your strength?"
"..."
A flicker of disappointment crossed Duncan's face. Kadim snorted.
"Well, roll around hard enough, maybe you scratch one someday. Now grab that sword and come at me. I'll use this stick."
After the bare-bones lecture, they moved to practice. Duncan wielded Mosquito; Kadim, a three-foot wooden stick.
Predictably, even holding back, Kadim was untouchable. Duncan took a dozen whacks each to crown, throat, thigh, flank, elbow, shin—and never laid a finger on him.
"Agh! Ack!"
"Right hand on hilt, left on pommel. Keep balance after each swing to move right away."
"Agh! Ack!"
"You're no hedgehog or turtle—don't curl up when it hurts. Extend your weapon: arms and shoulders straight."
"Aaaagh!"
"Still hesitating. Swing like you mean to gut me. In a real fight, you'd be a limbless chunk of meat by now."
Screams and tips flew back and forth. Only after bruising Duncan black and blue everywhere did the spar end. Kadim's verdict on his talent:
Abysmal.
Decent stamina for a merchant, but toughness and reflexes? Zilch. No killer instinct either. Months of this, and he'd still lose to street trash.
Yet... there was one glimmer of potential.
"Urk... aaah... ughhh..."
"..."
Kadim rubbed his chin. Was it worth keep teaching just for that potential...?
"Hahaha, whew, you don't hold back in training! Someone might mistake this for assault!"
An unwelcome guest barged in—the vigilante captain, with his thugs in tow.
Kadim fixed the grinning giant with a cold stare.
"Must be slow day. Out for a stroll?"
"Hey, don't be like that! Can't you see I'm working hard? On patrol, caught a mercenary beating a fine traveler."
"..."
A thick vein throbbed on Kadim's forehead. It'd been ages since patience was tested this hard. The captain laughed heartily and waved it off.
"Haha, lighten up! Just kidding. So, training, huh? Mind if I join?"
"..."
"I'm not just some buzzing fly—I can fight too, y'know."
Words laced with grudge. His lips curved like a crescent, but his small eyes stayed cold. Kadim bared his teeth like a beast.
"If you don't mind dying."
"..."
"If death's fine, I'll play."
Killing intent washed over them; every hair stood on end. The men backed away, urging their captain to bail—bad vibes.
But he wouldn't hear it. Backing down meant losing face. Pride blinded his instincts.
"Haha... can't do that. Vigilante captain dueling a traveler? Nah."
"..."
"But... accidents happen in training, right? We spar careful-like, no blame for 'unexpected mishaps'—sound good?"
No reason to refuse.
The captain smirked slyly and hefted a massive axe. Kadim cracked his neck and raised Mosquito. Two hulking brutes squaring off—it almost looked like a clash of equals, a battle for the ages.
But it ended pathetically quick.
Clang!
Kadim darted in like lightning, smashing the axe's head with his pommel.
"Huh?"
A brutal shock jolted up the captain's arms. His grip failed; Kadim kicked the axe away, seized his wrist, spun, and wrenched viciously.
"Wha—wha...?"
Crunch. Crack.
The thick forearm twisted a full turn plus half. Shoulder and elbow cartilage shredded. Radius and ulna ground together and shattered. Biceps mangled like a rag, tendons snapping into bruised clumps. The captain gawked at his butcher-shop arm in disbelief.
Then he screamed—louder than Duncan by multiples.
"Wha—aaagh! AAAAAAAAAAGH!! AAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
He writhed on the ground in agony. Duncan forgot his own pain in chills; the men gaped in shock.
Amid the stunned silence, only Kadim stayed calm. He strolled over and apologized.
"'Unexpected accident.' Sorry about that."
*
Dusk faded, thick clouds blanketing the evening sky. At the Mesen vigilante outpost.
"C-Captain, you okay?"
"How's the arm...?"
They'd smeared herbs, splinted, and bandaged the broken arm. He still chugged a bowl of rotgut. Pain lingered relentlessly. Sweat beaded his brow; bloodshot eyes blazed with rage.
Captain Otram muttered through gritted teeth.
"Grab him... now."
"...Pardon?"
"What?!"
The men recoiled, thinking he meant the barbarian. But Otram wasn't stupid. If he couldn't handle the monster, neither could they.
"Grab that hat-wearing prick. He's gotta be the barbarian's employer... Snag the boss, threaten him, and even a brainless savage'll heel."
"...!"
Relief at not facing the barbarian was short-lived—they'd still piss him off. They exchanged glances, hesitating; no one moved.
Otram helped decide.
BAM!
Mighty effective. After seeing him swing that huge axe one-handed, the men bolted to obey. A sure axe blade beat uncertain barbarian wrath any day.
"Goddamn... urk... huff..."
Alone, Otram groaned. Moving jarred fresh agony. He lurched up for more booze, accidentally knocking a copper cup off the table.
Clink, clink, clatter...
"Bastard... urk... hm?"
Bending to grab it, someone beat him to it. He started to yell, assuming a lingering man—but no.
No vigilante was that massive.
"How's the arm."
"GYAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
Otram shrieked like he'd seen a ghost. Pupils quivered wide. How long had he been there? How'd that bulk hide so perfectly? Face lost in shadow, unreadable.
"Bad injury. Gonna take ages to heal."
"..."
"Better skip vigilante duty awhile. Rest up somewhere quiet."
He gulped. Not here for bedside manner. Overheard the plan? Then what...? Hostage useless if he got caught here...
Brain spinning for survival, Otram froze as Kadim spoke on.
"Y'know, got me thinking—I feel bad. You showed me kindness, and I repaid it with enmity, unintentional or not."
"..."
"So I came to return the favor. No need to refuse; it's from the heart."
"Wh-what the hell are you...?"
Ting!
A sharp metallic ping—something flashed in the dark and vanished. Then Otram felt something odd in his thigh.
"...Huh?"
Ting!
Another ping, another glint. Same sensation in the other leg; strength drained. He collapsed, clutching his thighs.
Warm blood flowed, flesh torn open. Flat metal embedded inside. Teeth clenched, trembling hand yanked it free.
Silver surface, blood-slick, embossed emblem.
A 100-ruden silver coin.
"Last time, you only took half the passage toll. Here's the rest."
"Wh-what the fu—wha...?"
"Humans are 200 ruden each, you cut it to 100, right? So just 600 more to go."
Ting! Ting!
"AAAAAGH!! AAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
Each finger-flick launched coins like bullets. Six slammed home: gut, arms, chest.
Hole-riddled, Otram crawled through his blood trail, desperate to flee. Kadim gazed down indifferently at the worming captain.
"Where you going? You wanted this—take it sweet."
"A-ack! P-please, mercy! We'll return every toll coin... No, the whole haul from our ops—just spare my life...!"
"What're you on about? You haven't paid up yet."
"...?"
Kadim pulled a coin pouch. Rifled it, cocked his head.
"Oops, out of silvers."
Resigned, he grabbed a fistful of 10-ruden coppers.
"Horses are 100 each, yeah?"
"..."
Otram's face drained to corpse-gray.