Chapter 9
Chapter 9
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: Mountain Village Half-Elf
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The village gate shattered along with part of the palisade under the mercenary band's battering ram assault. The vigilantes—little more than armed civilians—quickly crumbled before the onrushing mercenaries, while the villagers huddled in their homes, trembling in terror as they awaited their final moments.
Jess's mercenary band was formidable. They moved with perfect discipline, and their combat skills were top-notch.
Of course, the village had a handful of hired mercenaries too, but they were clashing with the enemy in such a half-hearted fashion that they provided scant help. They had likely sensed defeat and were bracing for what came after. Mercenaries from guilds in the same kingdom often knew each other on sight, after all, making it highly probable they'd receive mercy from the victors once the fighting ended.
"We have to block the gate!"
Shura stood with the vigilantes at the entrance, holding back the mercenaries' advance. At this point, the only person she could rely on in the village was herself. The vigilantes were fighting with everything they had, but the gap in combat prowess was simply too vast. The mercenaries were battle-hardened professionals worth three veteran soldiers apiece, whereas the vigilantes were utter novices who wouldn't even rate as half a raw recruit.
Shura swung her sword, brimming with mana, at the mercenaries. They recoiled momentarily at the strike from what amounted to an Expert upper-grade blade, but they soon charged back in with eyes clouded by raw desire.
"E-It's an elf!"
Shura was an elf, renowned as the race of beauty and purity. True, she was a half-blood born between the dark moon elves and the high elves of light, but to human eyes, she was every bit the quintessential elf.
And so, Shura was more beautiful than any human woman. Her pale blue skin and red irises—the hallmarks of a moon elf—hinted at an underlying ferocity, but they did nothing to diminish her allure.
As Shura darted along the palisade, she cleaved into one mercenary's waist. Blood spurted out, but she hadn't severed his lifeline completely. The man was skilled; a veteran evasion had spared him from a deeper wound. His fellow mercenaries soon closed in with spear tips raised, buying him time to fall back.
Shura gritted her teeth. They were masters of coordinated assaults.
In the meantime, a few vigilantes collapsed with single, piercing screams. Shura rushed to their aid at once, but it was a futile gesture. The vigilante line rapidly got shoved into a corner, and the mercenaries poured into the village en masse.
Shura touched down on the ground and whipped her gaze around, her eyes flying wide. A few mercenaries were already sprinting toward the village homes to begin the pillaging.
The village was finished. It was time to retreat—and she could still vault the palisade to escape. But the faces of the villagers pinned her in place; she couldn't bring herself to abandon them.
She who'd grown up without even knowing her father's name, raised by a widowed mother; her mother who'd marched off to the battlefield and returned as a mangled corpse; the clan members who'd branded her young self impure blood and driven her out.
The people of Aim Village had been the ones to warmly embrace someone like her, who had nowhere else to go.
She couldn't turn her back on their gruesome fates. In the end, Shura hurled herself at the mercenaries, unleashing slashes laced with killing intent.
"Damn, she's no ordinary bitch."
Shura's onslaught blunted the mercenaries' momentum in an instant. She didn't seem to have much actual combat experience, but the signature power and speed of a mana swordsman was more than enough to overwhelm them. Casualties soon mounted among the mercenaries—some green recruits got ahead of themselves and rushed in, only to have limbs or heads lopped off by her blade.
The mercenaries staggered back at the sight of Shura's blood-smeared face. A mana swordsman was always a tricky foe. Even isolated as she was, she was methodically racking up damage on them.
"Shit. What the hell's the boss doing? Hey! Tell the boss to get his ass here!"
At last, a hulking, hairy brute strode through the ruined gate. It was Jess. The mercenaries greeted their belated leader with broad grins.
Jess had once been a knight drifting between fiefdoms until a string of big and small scandals got him booted. Now he led the Jess Mercenary Corps.
"They said there's an elf here?"
At Jess's bellow, his men nodded toward Shura. He sized her up and flashed a sleazy grin, running his tongue over his lips. He'd come on a whim after hearing the report, and there she was for real.
"But she's strong."
He could see that much himself. The mana sword she wielded was proof she was an Expert upper-grade knight.
But Jess was an Expert mid-grade swordsman himself. A step below her in mana refinement, perhaps, but he didn't consider himself at a disadvantage. He had far more combat experience under his belt, plus hundreds of men at his command. Sure, Shura had the vigilantes fighting alongside her, but they were pinned in alleys at the village edge, mounting only a last desperate stand.
Jess drew his sword and called out to her.
"Surrender. I don't wanna kill you."
Shura only gripped her blade tighter. Jess's expression made it clear: surrender meant a life steeped in humiliation. She was prepared to end it all right here.
"Come at me! Human!"
Jess nodded as if he'd expected as much. Female elves prized their chastity above their very lives. When purity was threatened, they took their own lives to preserve it—or if they couldn't, they starved themselves to death.
That was why even elf hunters rarely targeted females. They died en route even if captured. Males were the preferred prey, unburdened by such notions of chastity and far less likely to suicide mid-transport. Sell one to a high-ranking noble with exotic tastes, and you'd rake in a fortune.
'No helping it.'
Jess murmured low orders to his accompanying men: ready gags and iron nets. Shura had refused surrender, but he had no intention of killing her. Capture her right, and even if he couldn't sell her, he'd have his fun first.
As Jess closed in on Shura, his free-handed subordinates swarmed around her.
"Do her good, boss."
Jess sneered and batted aside her charging slash, slamming into her shoulder to shove her back. Shura lunged with all her might, but he blocked effortlessly. A flurry of strikes followed, leading into a grinding clash of strength.
Jess had the edge in raw power. Shura's mana was a notch purer, but it wasn't enough to bridge their physical gap.
On top of that, she was struggling against sporadic ambushes from the spectating mercenaries.
A deep shadow fell over Shura's brow. Even Jess was starting to feel the strain, and she was surrounded on all sides by enemies.
Soon a spear tip whistled past, grazing her face. Her stance crumbled, breaking the deadlock. Jess seized the advantage of numbers and unleashed a barrage of measured slashes at the now-outmatched Shura.
Clang, clang, claaang.
Sparks flew with every sword clash. The exchanges came at a dizzying speed, but the outcome was lopsided. Shura couldn't shake him off easily while keeping watch on her surroundings.
Her defensive struggle dragged on, and a creeping despair began to cloud her eyes.
'At this rate, I'm done for.'
The relentless attacks from all directions left Shura reeling. Most were feints, but each made her flinch and squander openings. A duel was a battle of margins, after all—one tiny misstep could hand the enemy a golden chance while dooming you to disaster.
Truth be told, she should've lost ages ago. Jess was that skilled, and the enemy numbers overwhelming. The only reason she'd held out was that they had no real intent to kill her.
And Shura knew exactly why.
They were after her body.
"Kyaaak!"
A young village girl burst from a nearby house in a state of half-undress. A leering mercenary grabbed her by the hair, slammed her down, and mounted her. It was Beni, who'd always been so kind to Shura.
Beni stretched out a desperate hand, begging for help. But Shura had none to give. No—she was in peril herself. Some mercenaries who'd gone off for nets on Jess's orders had snuck over the palisade and were closing in from behind.
Seeing this, Jess redoubled his assault to shatter her focus. He couldn't afford a single mistake. He knew exactly what a netted Shura might do next. To savor her as long as possible, he had to stop her from biting her tongue.
"No!"
Beni's scream grazed Shura's ears. Unable to stand by while a friend suffered such a fate, Shura threw herself forward, blade flashing toward the mercenary atop Beni. Jess's sword would follow—but she didn't care. It was what she wanted.
But she achieved nothing. Countless iron nets rained down from behind, ensnaring her completely.
"Urk."
Shura hit the dirt and flailed her sword wildly, but it only scored the nets without breaking them. The mercenaries swarmed in, pinning her limbs and jamming a gag into her mouth.
She'd been had. Shura glared at the men holding her down, her eyes quivering. The gag left her unable even to bite her tongue.
"Kekeke. From today on, I'm your man."
The mercenaries crowded around the smirking Jess, whooping it up.
"Share with us, boss?"
"Beat it, you lot! Plenty of village skirts to go around—go chase those!"
The mercenaries slunk off, disappointed.
With hollow eyes, Shura stared daggers at the village's hired mercenaries, who had ceased resisting and signaled surrender. Some had even confessed their love to her in the past. But one and all, they turned away, refusing to meet her gaze. Life mattered more to them, it seemed.
Tears welled in Shura's eyes for a moment. She hated herself for ever wavering toward scum like that.
Jess approached, fumbling with his belt buckle.
"Eek. Euh, kuhk."
Shura's muffled cries leaked through the gag. Jess swallowed hard and reached for the leather greaves shielding her lower body.
That was when it happened. In Shura's despairing gaze at the empty sky, a black silhouette appeared. A young man with the jet-black hair she'd so longed for—he landed and plunged his sword straight into the back of Jess's neck.
Jess's eyes bulged in shock as he gurgled, clutching his throat with trembling hands while blood fountained out. The black-haired youth then spun his sword, which trailed a pale misty glow, lopping off the torsos and heads of the mercenaries clustered around.
The man glanced sidelong at Shura.
"Huh, an elf? What's an elf doing in a place like this?"
"......"
"A half-blood, though. Different circumstances, but you've sure suffered plenty from your bloodline too."
The young man flashed an innocent smile, his face drenched in blood to a savage degree. For some reason, Shura thought of her mother. Her mother had looked at her with just that kind of smile.
Mountain Village Half-Elf End