Elzion 5
His body floated upward. His vision plunged toward the ground like sinking into it. Only after fully feeling the cold earth did the man's stalled thoughts begin to churn again.
Am I dead?
But that notion was quickly refuted. Pain climbed from his waist, ripping through his entire body like a knife. He hadn't been beheaded. His legs had been sliced clean off. The realization twisted his face horribly, and a scream erupted from his lips.
"Aaaahhh!"
The man shrieked in agony. Both legs were gone. His lower half, severed above the thighs, writhed in the dirt, soaked in blood and mud.
A man sprawled on the ground. A boy standing arrogantly over him. It took the onlookers a moment to process the scene.
The golden Ascension Sword gleamed under the moonlight, and someone muttered, "What the fucking hell..."
Those words captured everyone's shock.
The mercenaries Jack and the caravan leader Rex stared at Licht in utter bewilderment, beyond mere confusion. They hadn't even caught the moment he drew his sword. In an instant, an unnamed golden blade was in his hand, and the bandits' necks exploded in a burst.
Magic...?
Is he a mage?
Both men thought the same. Unless it was a Swordmaster-level swordsman, few had ever witnessed such skill firsthand. Without infusing the blade with aura, it seemed less like swordsmanship and more like sorcery—no surprise there.
I thought he was just some mutt...
Thud. thud.
Licht advanced slowly, drawing all eyes like a magnet.
The man still writhed, his lower body hacked away, lost in torment.
Slam!
The Ascension Sword plunged into the dirt beside his neck. Licht leaned in and whispered into his ear.
"Where's your main camp?"
"Aaaagh... F-fuck... you..."
"......"
No proper answer came. Whether from pain or defiance, Licht couldn't tell. He clicked his tongue inwardly.
This defeats the purpose of keeping him alive.
Judging by the man's attire and the quality of his sword, this bandit gang was no small fry. He'd just boasted of over two hundred men. If the vanguard didn't return after too long, the boss would come himself.
Full-scale battle it is, then.
He'd already taken the job for pay. A small group, he could traverse the mountains sleepless. But now, things were different. The caravan was too large to move stealthily, and the exhausted would lag behind.
Still, no need to fight every last bandit.
Just kill the leader.
Bandits gathered for survival. That's how rabble like them worked—clustering around the strongest. Motley crew. Slay the head, and they'd scatter for their lives.
Licht yanked the sword free, then slammed it down again.
Squelch!
"Aaaagh!"
The Ascension Sword pierced the man's shoulder blade. Another scream echoed.
"You... fucking... bastard...!"
"Answer straight, and I'll let you go easy."
But the vanguard captain wasn't some pushover. A mocking sneer twisted the man's lips at Licht's words.
"Fuck off, you shit. You think... I'm gonna spill just like that?"
"......"
"You goddamn mage fuck... pretending to be a swordsman? Heh, yeah! Kill me if you can! You won't make it down from the Noren Mountains alive."
Crunch!
"Grrgh!"
Licht twisted the Ascension Sword in his grip. Yet the man, braced for death, kept smirking.
"Heh, heh heh... You're all fucked... You, and that damn mage bitch too. My brother's... coming soon. Know that? Bro's a Sword User. No tricks of yours'll work on him...!"
Blood trickled from his mouth as he giggled on, relentless.
"Numbers? Two hundred... Two hundred. You think you punks with a dozen mercs can survive? Dream on, you idiots... Heh heh! Should've picked your fights better. Gonna die over one retard."
Even delirious from blood loss, his final words rang loud, as if for all to hear.
He's lost it.
Saying that after watching his men get decapitated. Someone stronger might've sensed something off. A Sword User who could infuse aura was indeed formidable.
But he'd picked the wrong foe.
Licht pulled the sword from the still-chuckling man's shoulder. Blood poured over exposed bone.
"D-die. You're all gonna die. Too late now. Heh heh. Beg all you want...?"
Slash!
It was over in a flash. The Ascension Sword arced, cleanly severing his head.
Thud. Roll.
Like the other bandits, his head tumbled across the dirt. Only then did silence return.
Whoosh—
A night breeze swept over the cooling corpses.
No more boy playing knight. Everyone waited, as if by agreement, for Licht's next words.
"What now?"
Jack broke the hush. Unlike the others, he'd already composed himself.
Rex added urgently, "We should push through the night and escape the mountains. Every minute counts...!"
"No need."
"Pardon?"
Licht shook his head slightly. Rex's face was on the verge of tears.
"But every second matters right now! We have to outrun the remnants before they...!"
"If we sprint full speed now, how long to El Sion?"
Licht cut Rex off and asked Jack.
Caught off-guard, Jack sighed shortly. "Hm... Noon tomorrow, at best. Even that's pushing it. We'll be slower than usual."
Rex shot Jack a betrayed look, but he just shrugged, saying nothing more.
"No point starting now anyway. Too late either way."
Leaving now or later, they'd be caught. Better rest fully and depart at dawn.
Licht, resolved, stated firmly, "We leave early tomorrow morning."
***
Dawn broke. Caravan members and a few mercenaries took turns on watch.
Licht, leaning against a tree, caught shallow sleep—alert for any intruders.
"Awake?"
He opened his eyes to Aila's tousled face first. New to camping, she'd adapted fast. The early morning buzzed with activity. Licht had been the only one still sleeping. With bandits possibly coming for his head anytime, staying up made sense.
The horses tied to trees munched contentedly.
Rex approached unnoticed. "Awake, sir? Then let's... "
"Take it slow."
Licht rose leisurely and strolled toward the caravan leader's luxurious carriage. Everyone gawked in disbelief, but none dared protest. Yesterday's slaughter was seared into their minds.
Neigh!
The caravan rolled out amid whinnies. No time for a proper breakfast—they chewed tough, dried bread atop the wagons. Licht did the same, though from the plush interior of the leader's fancy coach, munching softer white bread.
Unlike yesterday, mercenary Jack rode inside with him.
After some distance, Jack sighed deeply. "Hah... I still don't know if this is smart. Sure, running all night might've gotten us caught anyway, but..."
"Weren't you the one who agreed yesterday? Now you're backing out shamelessly..."
"Me? Agree? When?"
"Uh...?"
"Whatever. What's done is done. Worry about what's ahead. Talking won't change shit."
He had a point. It was in the past. Rex, momentarily indignant, regained composure and fell silent.
After a pause, Aila spoke. "Once we're out of the mountains, we're good, right?"
"Well..."
"Lady's right. The Fang Bandits before, same deal—their range ends at the Noren Mountains. They don't prowl near Britten or El Sion."
"But escaping the mountains to El Sion takes over six hours. If they catch us before..."
Just clear the Noren Mountains. The issue was getting caught first. By now, the leader likely knew something was wrong and was scouring the passes with his crew.
Imagining it, Rex's voice grew grim. Everyone instinctively glanced at Licht.
He stared silently out the window at the passing scenery.
Jack ruffled his hair. "Ugh... I hate this shit. Got any ideas, knight?"
His tone had shifted from yesterday's indifference.
"Can you infuse your sword with aura?"
"Sword User? Nah. I'm a Sword Runner—just basic body enhancement. There's one more, but he's no better than me, probably worse. Real fighting force now is the mage lady and you."
As expected.
"And magic... Try to hold off on fire spells. Fire just complicates things. Once they know we've got a mage, they'll spread out. We'll handle blocking; you two thin 'em with spells as best you can. You're a mage too, right?"
Sharp as a veteran merc who'd worked with plenty of mages.
Licht shook his head. "No need."
"What? Then some other plan...?"
Then—
Neighhh!
The carriage screeched to a halt. Jack trailed off amid the jolt.
The driver yelled, "Master!"
"What is it?"
"Bandits...!"
Rex glanced out reflexively, his face paling blue. A group blocked the lead wagon.
"Halt!"
A booming voice rang out. A man burst from the bandits—over a hundred strong at a glance. He stood out: towering height, massive build. Even his longsword at his hip was unusually long.
Mercs and caravan folk emerging warily froze.
He swept his eyes over them, then bellowed again. "You fucking scum. I know the bastard who killed my brother yesterday is here. Who is it?"
People exchanged panicked glances, eyes converging on one spot: the caravan leader's carriage.
Just then, Licht opened the door and descended slowly.
The man's face contorted in feral rage.
"You... the fucker who killed my brother?"
"......"
Licht said nothing. From the open carriage door, Rex, Jack, and Ranin gaped at him.
The man snarled, "I'll rip you apart before I slaughter the rest."
Shing!
He drew his sword. Blue aura roiled up the massive blade.
"Aura! Aura!"
"We're dead!"
"Come out! Kill me like you did my brother!"
"Waaaaah!"
Caravan folk and mercs blanched by the second at his roar. The bandits behind cheered wildly.
Then a sharp wind sliced through them.
Scraaaape!
Splurt!
"Wha...?"
One rear bandit blinked dumbly. The others were much the same.
Thud thud thud.
In an instant, a man's body burst into blood and red chunks, collapsing forward like his brother's.
Thump!
Spilled blood. Lifeless longsword rolling in the dirt.
"Next."
A voice clear as crystal.
"Who's it gonna be?"
Silence blanketed the vast forest. Birdsong and rustling wind sounded deafening.