Your Honorable Head Chef (7)
Off in the woods by the roadside during my night patrol—right around the midpoint where the steep slopes of the Vurn Mountains began—I spotted five people.
It was suspicious enough that anyone was out there in the dead of night with the northern road blocked off, let alone so deep in the woods away from the main path. But what clinched it was how they started scrambling the moment I shouted.
"Hey, run, you idiots!"
The Holy Sword guided me straight to those shady bastards. In a flash of lightning-like light, I blinked right into their midst.
"Gah! Kill him!"
But of course, I was faster. Before their swords could even halfway clear their sheaths, two heads went flying into the air. Before those heads hit the ground, I slashed diagonally through the chests and waists of the other two. In the blink of an eye, four corpses thudded to the dirt.
Five guys, but one was missing. Where'd the last one go?
Then a noisy rumble and a burst of light flared behind me. I whipped around to see a dimensional gate swirling into existence in midair—big enough to swallow a man whole. The fifth guy was right in front of it, chanting like a madman.
What the hell? A mage mixed in with them?
Anyway, I grabbed him by the nape just before he could dive through and flung him backward. He sailed through the air and smashed into the ground, letting out a weird yelp as he raised both hands, mana coiling around them. He started chanting a spell from his mouth.
Chanting out loud instead of using hand signs? Not some top-tier mage, then. You can gauge a mage's skill or rank by how they cast. Guys like him who have to recite spells verbally are low-level. Mid-level casters, like Idwild, can trigger spells with gestures alone (though she's a black mage, of course). And true high-level ones cast freely without any motions at all.
Not that rank means shit against me.
He finished chanting, and a feeble mana arrow shot from his hand. I flicked it away barehanded.
See? Total lowbie. Manifesting raw mana like that is amateur hour. Real pros shape it into something more versatile. Raw mana doesn't pack much physical punch on its own. For example, it's way deadlier to levitate a boulder with that mana and drop it on their head than to shoot a stupid arrow.
"Hngh!"
His all-out spell blocked like it was nothing, the mage whimpered and scooted back on his ass—only to slam into a corpse sprawled in a pool of blood.
"Hiiik!"
Realizing he'd hit a body and that his hand was in blood, the mage made a choking gasp.
"Listen up, asshole. No more funny business. Cast one more spell, and I'll rip every tooth out of your fucking head so you can't chant shit."
"Hic...! Y-yes... s-sir!"
I squatted beside him and inspected his face up close. Young kid, still baby-faced.
"I ask, you answer. Lie or say you don't know, and I yank a tooth for each one."
"Got it...! I'll tell everything, just spare me...!"
The mage clasped his hands and begged.
"Good attitude. First question: What the hell were you doing out here?"
"Watching the chimera... mngh!"
I shoved fingers into his mouth and yanked out a molar. He thrashed like he was having a seizure, and when I pulled my hand free, blood gushed out.
"Asked again: What were you doing out here?"
"Snff... I was watching the chimera kill my teacher's group. Had to send it back once the job was done."
With a missing tooth slurring his speech, the mage spilled everything.
"So you summoned that chimera? And the musga from earlier today?"
"How do you know about the musga... mgh!"
Another tooth out, and he dropped to his knees, forehead to the dirt, blood foaming from his mouth.
"Yes! I summoned both the musga and the chimera! To kill everyone using this road!"
"Why? World domination dreams?"
"No...! It was a commission! To make it look like monsters attacked travelers on the road!"
I stared at him. He clapped both hands over his mouth, terrified I'd pull more teeth.
"A commission... Let me guess, from the local lords?"
"I can't say th—uuugh!"
Three more teeth in quick succession, and he was a blubbering mess of tears, snot, spit, and blood, confessing it all.
His clients: six lords west of the Vurn Mountains. They'd hired him to unleash monsters along the road between Rosens and Fribourg to attack travelers. He knew it was inhuman bullshit, but the fat purse from six nobles turned his head. He'd hide in the woods with their guards, summon monsters randomly via portals to block the road. Musga by day, chimera by night.
That explained the unrelated monsters popping up one after another.
Now the real question: Why the fuck were these lords pulling this insane stunt?
Simple. Choke out Rosens and reclaim the "western detour premium" racket. If the capital gave up on Rosens after two failures, they could carve it up among themselves. Mage's fee was steep, but split six ways? Pocket change. And the profits would be tenfold.
Hah... these motherfuckers...
"Pwease... have m-mercy..."
Five teeth gone, his speech a mushy mess as he clutched my ankle.
"One last question. Random summon means random dismissal, right?"
"Y-yesh... thsir..."
"So that chimera could've popped back into some random village square?"
He caught the ice in my tone, looked up, eyes filling with despair.
"Meaning innocents die for a few coins?"
"F-forgive m-me... pwease..."
"Guys who kill for cash gotta be ready to die for it too."
I crushed his skull in my grip. It caved inward, eyes popping out.
"Urgh...!"
Brain-squeezed, he face-planted into the blood puddle and went still.
"Fuckin' gross..."
I shook the brains off my hand and stood. Down below, the mercenaries had returned and were gawking at the dead chimera.
Heading down, they jumped like they'd seen a ghost.
"Whoa! You're alive?!"
"Yeah, no shit."
"Thought it ate you when you vanished..."
"Even if it did, I'd have cut its head off from inside."
They whistled in awe, eyes back on the massive beast. Up close, it was huge—even bigger than a standard adult chimera. Its body blocked the whole path; from severed neck to tail tip, longer than my inn was wide. Randomly dismissing this thing? If it'd landed in Rosens, chills.
"Boss... if I may... who the hell are you, really?"
Hardo ventured timidly. He flinched when I turned, eyes dropping.
"Killing this thing so cleanly... and that sword..."
He eyed the Holy Sword at my hip.
"Isn't that the one on your inn wall...? A magic sword...?"
"Who knows."
I shrugged vaguely; he backpedaled fast.
"Not prying. No need to say. But... you're no ordinary innkeeper."
"Like I said: just a retired sword-slinger running an inn. And today's our little secret, right?"
"O-of course. We swore oaths. I stake my office on it."
"Good. Let's head back."
One merc still eyeing the chimera piped up.
"But boss, you said it was a southern musga?"
"Guess I mis-saw it."
No need to spill about the mage or the lords to them. That's my solo gig from here.
We rode south along the northern road, telling the checkpoint guards we'd cleared the monsters and to report to their captain pronto. Flashed the two chimera heads on the cart; they bolted to HQ without a word.
"Captain, link up with the guard captain here and wrap this up. You know the story."
"Y-yes. Thanks, boss."
Hardo would vouch to Lambert that his mercs stepped up for the city and hunted the beast. They'd handle the rest; I headed straight back to the inn.
The inn's first floor still blazed with light. Kali barked at me; the door flew open, staff pouring out.
"Master! You're safe!"
Della rushed first, sobbing into my chest. Marim circled me, checking for wounds; Idwild grinned dopily, scratching her head. Pelle stood arms crossed, nodded curtly when our eyes met.
"Bertrand!"
Last out, the saintess reached for me. Idwild and Pelle bolted. Holy light burst from Celereja's hand, streaking across the yard to hit Della's back—bathing us both in gold.
"Bertrand! You okay?"
She'd dumped all her holy power, shoved Della aside, groped my chest. Bounced Della hugged us both.
"Waaah... Master...!"
"So stuffy, Della!"
"For a monster hunter, you look pretty roughed up..."
Marim circled, tilting her head in confusion.
"Hehe... Bertrand's the strongest..."
Idwild beamed from afar, wary of the saintess. Pelle confirmed I was fine and vanished inside.
Ugh, such a hassle. What this place needs is someone calm and quiet like Pelle for head chef...
Brushed off their questions—too tired, later—and hit my room. Straight to the kingdom map on the wall.
Let's see... those lords he named...
First up: Baron Benson's Castle, forking left from Bue south of Rosens. Westward: Dysley, Briock, Grancis baronies/viscountcies, then hefty Einert earldom. Ending with obscure Audrion barony where the mountains fade west. Six territories in a row—all on the old detour route.
Sure, the Vurn Mountains stretch far with more beyond. But these six are the ones gunning to kill Rosens right now.
Perfect. Time to crush 'em flat, make an example for any other would-be meddlers. Bonus: they're lined up straight west. Tour from Dysley to Audrion in order. Feels like a traveling theater troupe hitting the circuit. Can't wait to see the lords' faces.
Next morning, after a solid half-hour tug-of-war with the staff, I finally mounted the hellhorse.
"Back by tomorrow! Promise! Believe me!"
Della bawled; Marim and Idwild waved; Pelle leaned at the door. Small mercy: Celereja was at the temple.
First stop Benson: south past the Vurn Gorge, then west. Hellhorse had me crossing the border by mid-morning sun, no issues. Through fields and meadows to the castle at the territory's heart.
Not a big place; the castle loomed quick. Simple log walls—stone's for earls and up with deeper pockets.
Second time at Benson. First was rescuing Hildeva, kidnapped by his knights from the roadside after her Apenzel exile. Dragged to that basement dungeon.
At the gate, a soldier on the ramparts yelled to halt.
"Who the fuck are you?!"
Barking banmal at visitors? Classic barony trash. Anything below earl is basically thugs.
"Tell your lord the guy who borrowed his seal last time is back."
After freeing Hildeva, I'd stamped a letter to the capital with Benson's seal.
He'd remember me. Probably never forget.
But the soldier sneered and spat curses.
"Where'd you crawl from, trash? No handouts—fuck off!"
Half a year ago, plus nighttime—didn't recognize me. Maybe a new recruit since.
"Telling him I'm here quietly would be best for everyone."
"Huh? Got a bolt in your skull? Words ain't working—time for force!"
He rang the alarm bell wildly. The log gate creaked open. A dozen Benson knights marched out.