Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 004
Chapter Title: Beasts Need Room to Run Wild
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Unlike people who exchange letters without ever meeting, those facing each other with weapons in hand tend to show at least some courtesy.
Those who can't usually end up with their heads split open.
Yet the Leaf Village militia had barked at Shan and treated him roughly for a simple reason. His hunched shoulders, the servile way he glanced at them, his cowering posture—they were all screaming that he was the weak one, that he'd submit if they just pushed hard enough.
Judging opponents by appearances wasn't much different from how animals did it.
"Rhodam!"
"That crazy little brat!"
That's why, when the first man's arm was severed, the onlookers felt outrage before shock or fear.
As those close to the burly fellow charged with weapons drawn, Shan casually shrugged off his cloak bundle to lighten his load.
At the same time, he gripped the protruding hilt with his free left hand and yanked it free—a hefty iron mace.
He swung it into the face of the approaching attacker, shattering teeth that scattered everywhere.
"Huh."
A few realized something was wrong at the sight, but most lost their cool, blood boiling at the sight of their comrade falling.
Men wielding blades closed in on the motionless Shan.
But with a single light step forward, a tilt of the head, and a near-right-angle twist of his waist, every attack sliced harmlessly through empty air.
And the militiamen paid the price for those assaults.
"Argh!"
"Guhk, guk."
"My, my eyes!"
Each time his sword in one hand and mace in the other painted the air, some body was sure to be sliced, shattered, or torn.
Wrists severed, collarbones snapped, ribs crushed leading to bloody deaths, eyes gouged leaving them blind...
He wasn't sparing their lives out of mercy, unlike with the bandits where he'd targeted vitals.
Unlike that first fight in the dark woods against a dozen foes, this was an open plain facing over sixty.
If they fully surrounded him and pressed in, no amount of sword skill would save him.
And if a weapon got stuck, replacing it mid-fight wasn't easy.
In contrast, wounding opponents without killing them turned them into perfect obstacles.
No one could ruthlessly kick aside screaming, living comrades—not like with corpses.
Targeting limbs or eyes was easier than vital spots anyway.
About twenty seconds in, with ten of the attackers dead or crippled in a flash, the militia lost all will to fight despite having over fifty left.
Some dropped their weapons— the lucky ones. Others pissed themselves in place or collapsed sobbing.
"U, uwaaa—"
"M-Mommy!"
Full-grown men crawling on their knees, wailing for their mothers—it was so pathetic that Shan burst out laughing without thinking.
Covered in blood and cackling, he looked every bit the devil to them.
'Ah, this feels good...'
Just like the first fight, his head was heating up, heart pounding.
If he let instinct take over, he could revel madly until they were all dead or fled.
But Shan took a deep breath in and out, calming the rush.
Massacring them here would truly make him the devil Priest Ador had warned about.
Even if he was an irredeemable devil spawn, better to be the slightly less evil kind.
That way, he could face Selina with his head high later.
"Believe me now?"
The survivors—still intact but desperate to flee—nodded frantically without needing prompting.
They'd have knelt or kowtowed if ordered.
Once things settled, the Leaf Villagers flipped from arrogant to obsequious overnight, mirroring how Shan had once groveled to Willow Villagers.
The sight brought no smug satisfaction.
Just like feeling disgusted at his own wretched reflection, seeing his past self in them only soured his mood.
"Three villages..."
"Yes, Sir Knight."
Orgo, Leaf Village's chief, even addressed Shan as "Sir Knight"—a title for the mightiest warriors, armored and mounted, appointed directly by nobles.
Shan chuckled at the absurdity but didn't correct him.
The more they feared and revered him, the safer he'd be.
"From Cuckoo Village to Shadow Village here, and Willow Village as you said—all seem razed by those bandits."
Orgo spilled everything he knew about local geography and the situation.
The mystery bandits were sweeping west from the east, torching every village in their path.
They didn't know what lay beyond easternmost Cuckoo Village.
"A few from our village went to report to the lord... but with the bandits dead or gone, we're in a bind."
"Why?"
"We've essentially lied to the nobles."
If the lord mobilized troops to exterminate bandits that were already gone, it'd be a massive waste.
Shan nodded in understanding, and Orgo hesitantly ventured,
"W-Well then, may we go now...?"
"Mm—ah, hold on."
Shan nodded absently, then stopped them on a sudden thought.
That alone blanched the faces of the dozens-strong militia.
Ignoring them, Shan twirled his sword casually.
"Got any food?"
"Pardon?"
"You've come a ways, so you brought provisions, right? Leave it all here."
His stolen rations from the bandits were gone; he needed supplies.
But tagging along to their village felt risky.
Even mangy mutts grow bold on home turf.
He was confident against these small fry in a straight fight, but didn't fancy a knife in the dark while sleeping.
In the end, the bold rescuers from Leaf Village limped home stripped of their own provisions.
"Chief..."
"It's fine. We're lucky to be alive."
Orgo sighed at his ragged villagers.
Leaf Village had the most people around, but losing ten dead or maimed was devastating.
One in seven able-bodied men.
But truly, ending with this sacrifice was a blessing.
Small and frail-looking, yet more agile, cunning, and ruthless than any warrior Orgo had seen.
He'd witnessed knights fight in his youth, but none were such monsters.
The boy settling for food instead of their blood was surely the Goddess's mercy.
While Orgo fled with those thoughts, Shan feasted on the leftovers.
Coarse black bread, goat cheese, honeyed or dried fruits and nuts.
Leaf Villagers seemed richer than Willow folk.
Savoring the meal, a story from the militia soured his mood with a sigh.
'Selina's probably dead...'
Word was, she'd married into Cuckoo Village—the first hit.
Four or five days ago by timeline, and no survivors reported. Everyone gone.
Where to now?
Orgo's rough map showed no good options.
Two villages south and east were gone, north was Leaf Village, northwest their lord's manor...
The manor was off-limits, no question.
He'd seen Leaf Villagers' eyes shift from suspicion to contempt upon learning he was Altoin.
Nobles wouldn't differ; he'd end up fighting real armored knights or soldiers.
'How do you kill a knight?'
Shan pictured a foe clad head to toe in plate.
Sword probably useless; smash the legs with a mace to topple?
Spear-thrust to the visor from afar?
Slaying dragon-like beasts meant superhuman strength, speed, reason—tough fight.
Maybe unwinnable.
Unbeknownst to him, he'd equated humans with beasts or monsters as foes.
Violence was how he'd first defended his dignity; he'd learned no other way to interact.
Afterward, he scouted with his bundle for shelter.
Luckily, a distant unburnt hut—hunter's, judging by the hides.
Hard to afford otherwise.
Shadow Village's hut made a fine haven.
Sturdy roof and walls vs. his old barn, cushy furniture, solid bolt.
Isolated enough to dodge corpse stench—bonus.
No way he'd bury hundreds; let beasts and bugs handle it.
Could've told Leaf folk to clean up.
'Selina's probably rotting like that now.'
He considered detouring to Cuckoo Village but shook it off.
Attacked earlier, bodies rotted or eaten; no confidence spotting hers.
Unpacked, then explored the woods proper.
Unlike Willow's sparse timber runs, Shadow Village's forest suited its name—rolling hills.
He mapped streams, valleys, odd trees, springs as landmarks.
Thinking of it as his land, his domain, had him humming.
Bathed in the creek, washed off blood-soaked clothes.
After roaming all day, home for a full belly and bed.
Oat-stuffed mattress topped with tough woolen cloth—heavenly.
Day after day.
In his new den, Shan savored leisurely bliss for the first time.
Sleep late, eat, roam hills, drink from creeks, swim, leap tree to tree.
Unlike the village, unleashing full prowess tested limits, bringing slaughter-like thrill.
Swung weapons, imagining fights—fun.
Practice paid off; the woods teemed with goblins and wolves.
Neglectful hunters? Or corpses drawing predators?
Shan cleared them, securing his turf and sating bloodlust.
A beastly life over human.
Once, bow in hand, he nailed a drinking deer from afar—arrow through the skull.
"Yes!"
No formal training, but he'd assisted enough to bleed and skin it easy.
Fire-starting? Fail.
Second biggest regret—not asking before.
"Hmm..."
Flinted stones endlessly—no spark.
Ate thin-sliced raw venison: vile.
He'd stomached worse, but after cheese and honeyed fruit, standards rose.
'At least the honeyed fruits...'
Snack-hunting the pantry, he realized it was empty.
Dozens' worth, but he'd gorged gluttonously.
Never rationed before—fed on village scraps like livestock.
"Ah."
Leftovers spoiled quick in summer heat.
Good aim wouldn't summon beasts; raw meat still sucked.
Shan pondered, then belted sword, mace, took spear.
Leaf Village had plenty; they'd share, right?
Trade silver candlesticks or melted jewelry if needed.
Refuse? Threaten for food.
Better than starving.
Felt like a storybook bandit—amusing.