Lucentia (2)
In his previous life, there was one unwritten rule in the continent's underworld.
—If a giant's shadow falls over an alley, hide immediately and don't even breathe.
It was a rule born after rumors spread far and wide that the monstrously strong knight Tiny was smashing back-alley gangs to fund his operations.
Knights usually received generous salaries anyway, and even if they took dirty money, it was mostly just tribute. They rarely dirtied their own hands by meddling in the underworld.
But one of the continent's top knights, the man of monstrous strength, actively raided the back alleys. No, it went beyond active—he made a habit of hitting the underworld first in every city he visited, his infamy spreading from the shadows into everyday talk.
That's how he earned the moniker Villain Pulverizer.
Once that name spread, villains started avoiding him, making fundraising a bit tougher.
But.
'No need to worry about that now.'
No need to compare to his past life. His tiny body now. A frail appearance that didn't just fail to scare off thugs—it drew them in eagerly.
It made for perfect bait. Step into a dark alley, and pests swarmed like they'd been waiting.
But there was a downside.
Whish. Thud.
"All night looting, and this is it...?"
Tiny tossed and caught the heavy pouch in midair, his face etched with deep disappointment.
If the dozens of thugs who'd been stripped bare and beaten into cripples last night saw this, they'd grind their teeth in rage. But to Tiny, it was genuine regret.
'Back then, I'd have rooted out every hidden gang and flipped them all.'
He couldn't touch the big organizations that actually paid yet. Unless they were total lunatics, no knight-level expert would be holed up in back-alley crews. But in a major city like this, those groups were inevitably tied to merchants or the lord—directly or not.
Far too early to clash head-on with nobles.
"Well... I'll come back later."
A thug slumped against the wall, ankle crushed, twitched at the words. Tiny ignored him mercifully, whistling softly as he stepped out into the sunlight-flooded street.
The sun hung high in the midday sky. He'd pulled an all-nighter in the alleys, but one sleepless night was nothing.
The problem was achieving his goal after all that effort.
"Armor? For you?"
"I've got money. Something decent. A usable weapon too, if you have it. Blunt type. A warhammer would be ideal..."
The blacksmith's face twisted oddly.
"No way. Even if I'm desperate for cash, I wouldn't sell weapons to a kid..."
Grrrrr.
"...Gaaah! Wh-what the hell?!"
"Not just any kid—a mercenary. And a spirit user."
Even buying gear was tricky with his looks. Only Wolrang's help convinced the terrified blacksmith.
Of course, no metal armor fit a ten-year-old body, even at Lucentia's largest smithy. But they found a decent substitute.
"...Made from the leather of the southern Iron Ox. It'll bounce most arrows. Ordered for the count's young masters for hunts, but canceled, so it sat here. Top, bottom, boots—the lot for ten silvers."
The glossy black leather armor, lacquered like fresh paint, looked solid enough.
"Not bad. For smithy-made leather."
"O-of course. We hire leather experts for weapons too... Uh, could you keep that friend a bit farther away?"
Wolrang's massive spirit form bared teeth right in his face. The blacksmith sweated bullets—not unreasonable.
Tiny smiled kindly to ease his nerves.
"He won't bite."
"R-right. Looks real gentle now. Ha, haha."
Woof!
"Gyaah! S-save... me..."
The blacksmith, who'd puffed up his chest, collapsed in terror. Tiny sighed, helped him up, and asked,
"The weapon?"
"Y-yes! R-right here..."
He soothed the near-tears middle-aged man and followed, but no warhammer. Realizing his main weapon was niche, Tiny swallowed regret but snagged a well-forged mace about a meter long at a bargain.
Satisfactory shopping.
"Th-that damn brigand... Ugh, bad luck!"
He laughed off the cursing from behind. All-day running, night looting, shopping—his body ached. Fatigue hit sooner than expected.
'This body's still weak. Damn, no choice.'
Before the ducal estate, recover stamina first. Tiny headed to the inn district.
His childlike looks caused issues even renting a room.
Creeeak.
"Wahahaha!"
"...So I barely shook him off and turned, and that bastard's already a hundred meters away, ugly ass flapping!"
"Bullshit! I'd recognize your ass anywhere!"
"Puhahaha!"
The pub-inn's first floor buzzed midday. Tiny slipped through quietly, found a server.
"Aw, cute little thing. Errand for mom?"
"One room. Staying the night."
"Hohoho, funny kid..."
"Not joking. Here's the money."
Thud. One silver on the counter widened her eyes. She pocketed it fast, smiling.
"Ahaha, sir. Follow me. Best room available."
"If it's really good, another silver."
"...You'll love it, sir."
He noticed her steps veer but didn't press. Half a day hustling post-all-nighter. He craved pure rest.
But an unexpected pest appeared.
"Hey, hold up. My kid here's rude."
A bearded brute's massive hand on Tiny's shoulder. Tiny looked up baffled; the man grinned yellow teeth.
"Sent on an errand, wastes it. Jon, before I tan you here, out with uncle."
Squeeze. The grip tightened. But new armor held firm—or the brute's strength was pathetic—no pressure.
Just pathetic scheming drew a sigh. Probably saw the coin pouch.
'Filthy. Gotta grow fast.'
Past life, his bulk was a free pass. These pests annoyed him anew.
Ignoring his mood, the brute scowled fiercer, shoving his mug close.
"Jon, chat with uncle outside?"
Pressure finally hinted. As he turned Tiny, who had zero interest in the farce, Tiny smirked and placed his hand over the brute's.
"Good, good. Finally listening. Uncle's a bit la—"
Crackkk.
"Gaaaaah!"
Thud. Brute collapsed screaming, hand pulverized.
The rowdy inn hushed, eyes on them. Tiny waved cheerfully with his free hand.
"Family matter. Mind your business."
"Urgh... P-please, mercy..."
Contrasting reactions. But boozehounds and mercs lit up intrigued.
Tiny grinned, whispering in the brute's ear,
"Hey, fake uncle. Wanna talk outside? Your crew's nearby, right? Where?"
Killing intent blanched the brute's flushed face. He nodded frantically.
"Guhhh."
Strongmen might brush off such nonsense lightly. Tiny never did. Smash so they couldn't repeat—basic. Excessive? Take life, no hesitation.
Some called it narrow-minded slum thinking. Tiny saw it as diligent cleanup.
'Can't remove all trash, but clear the obstacles.'
After smashing the brute and his gang, thirty more silvers richer, Tiny slept satisfied.
Next day.
Crack. Stretching on waking, Tiny confirmed recovered condition, geared up, and left.
"Breakfast and writing supplies. Rest is tip."
"Right away, sir."
Server's attitude flipped. Pub stares differed too.
Night owls and rumor-chasers eyed the small boy curiously.
"That kid smashed Jason's crew last night."
"Black-haired ghost kid haunting alleys—word's spreading."
"Could it be...?"
Ignoring whispers, Tiny closed eyes, reviewing plans. Goals met; time to reassess.
"Here. As ordered, sir."
Server brought pen and paper. Tiny outlined next steps.
'Top priority: stop the first disaster.'
Karon's calamity, loss of first relic Humanitas. Coming by year's end.
But.
—Remember. Find me as soon as possible.
Sword Emperor's words couldn't be ignored.
'Either way, gain strength to solo Glutterni. Ideally the Demon King too...'
Ultimate goal. Duke Valentia visit: essential step.
Unknown how the duke sent him back. But.
—Daughter's pet name: Layla. From my and wife's favorite flower.
—Truth is, I didn't like that flower much. That's key. Never forget.
He likely remembered no past life.
'Still, what he offers. If he pitied my talent wasted...'
Make him far stronger. One possibility flashed then—too risky to voice, lest it jinx.
Get that, or similar? Must visit duke.
'If not, straight to Karon. Still time.'
Even if no Sword Emperor aid, duke detour better than blind rush. Share disasters; he'd act.
So.
'Write it down.'
Scribble. Unforgettable outline of looming calamities. The act drew stares.
"Kid knows letters?"
"Look at the armor. Some noble brat."
"Black hair, black eyes—no noble like that!"
"Wait, I've heard... What was it...?"
Tiny perked at unexpected talk. Then.
Thud.
"Guys, not time to gawk at the kid."
"What?"
"Why? Trouble?"
Newcomer flung open the door with ear-perking news.
"Valentia lady's patrolling outer walls today."
"Huh? Sudden?"
"That Angel of Valentia?"
'What?'
Tiny, focused on parchment, couldn't help looking up.