Bandits (3)
"This is all of it?! You sons of bitches!"
A man wrapped in a leather vest kicked the tribute goods scattered across the ground and roared. Still not satisfied, he even drew the sword at his hip and began swinging it around like a madman.
Shreeeng!
"We show up late on purpose, and this is all you could scrape together?!"
Wham! Wham!
"Kyaaaagh!"
"Aaah!"
When the bandits slashed and threatened the villagers, the village headman clenched his teeth and stepped forward.
"Huh? Not you, Headman. Surely this isn't the end of it?"
The bandit kicked at the pile of tribute offerings and grinned, baring his rotting teeth. The headman glared at him for a long moment, then called for the farmer who had once guided Mujin to the village.
"You there! Chunsam!"
"Y-yes, sir!"
"Go and bring it. Now."
"What do you mean— oh!"
Chunsam belatedly grasped the headman's meaning and sprinted off, panting. Watching him flee, the bandit's grin widened.
"Heh heh. You really are the headman, all right. So you were holding something back."
"Please withdraw for the moment. We will bring it to you shortly."
"Yeah, I don't think so."
"...I beg your pardon?"
The bandits, who would normally have meekly obeyed, refused to move. The headman froze at this unexpected turn, and behind him, the rest of the bandits drew their swords in unison.
"What is the meaning of this?! You said all we had to do was pay the tribute—"
"The boss wants something else this time around."
"Kyaaa!"
With those words, one of the bandits seized a woman and dragged her away. Then, one by one, they began herding the women of the village into a single place at swordpoint.
"Y-you rotten bastards...!"
"Heh heh. Well then. Care to fight us for them?"
As the bandit spun his blade in lazy circles, the headman felt his head swim. Were these monsters truly human beings like the rest of them? In the end, his fury won out, and he swung his fist.
Wham!
"Oho! Not a bad punch, old man. But you see—"
Crunch!
"Kuhek!"
"—you've got to actually land a hit for it to count. See?"
The bandit's fist caught the headman square on the chin, and he crumpled where he stood. As the villagers rushed toward their fallen leader, blades leveled at them from every direction.
"Take one more step and you're a skewer."
"You bastards!"
"Oh, you want a turn? Come on in, then. I'd be happy to show you what happens."
Heh heh heh.
The bandits' laughter rang through the village. In the meantime, the headman somehow regained his senses and rose to his feet.
"Kh... after what you've done, do you truly believe you'll get away with it?"
"Haha. Still full of fight, aren't you, Headman? How about I make sure you never leave that chair again for the rest of your life? Hm?"
Just as the bandit raised his sword to bring it down, Seonhwa stepped in front of the headman and blocked his path.
"Who's this little brat?"
"Seonhwa! Run, child! Run now!"
The headman cried out in alarm and tried to pull her back, but Seonhwa simply stood there, planting herself between the bandit and the headman.
"The headman's granddaughter, is it?"
"You fiend! Do not lay a finger on that child!"
"Heh heh. How convenient—I was just in need of an example."
Shff.
The bandit's blade brushed lightly against Seonhwa's throat. A shiver ran through her whole body at the cold radiating from the steel, and only then did her face drain of all color.
"Well, well. Quite the brave one, aren't you? Not even a scream. Hm?"
"......"
"Let's see just how long you can hold out, then—"
"You monster!"
The headman threw himself at the bandit with every last ounce of strength he had. The bandit dropped his sword and pitched forward, and without giving him a moment to breathe, the headman hammered blows into his face.
"Kck! You son of a—!"
WHAM!
A vicious kick sent the headman flying, and he collapsed with a wheeze like a punctured bellows. But the bandit had no intention of stopping there. He began stomping the fallen man again and again.
"You! You dog! How dare you—!"
Thud! WHAM! Crack!
Watching the headman take blow after blow without even the chance to gasp for air, Seonhwa's eyes trembled. If this went on, he would die. And at that thought, Mujin's face rose unbidden in her mind.
She remembered how he had stroked her head and thanked her—thanked her—when she hadn't managed a single word, too shy to speak.
Please come help us. Please hurry. Why isn't he here? Hurry. Hurry.
A flood of jumbled thoughts poured through Seonhwa's mind—and then they collapsed into a single cry that clawed its way up her throat.
"Somebody, help us!"
"You filthy bastards."
Shraaak!
Mujin's robes billowed as his blade swept through the air in a single horizontal arc. The head of the bandit who had been stomping the headman only moments before went flying.
"What the—?!"
The bandits stumbled backward at the sight. But the distance between them and Mujin did not grow—because Mujin advanced exactly as far as they retreated.
"So it's you lot. The dogs who've been making these villagers' lives hell."
"...Why, you little—!"
Their moment of confusion at the sudden ambush was brief. The bandits charged at Mujin all at once.
"Stand back, Sogaju-nim."
Ansong stepped in front of him. In that instant, a bandit within arm's reach swung his sword down.
Sshk!
Of course, the blade never landed. The hand holding it had already been severed and sent flying through empty air.
"Gaaaaaagh!"
"What the hell are these guys?!"
"Surround them! Quickly!"
The bandits, thinking fast for once, closed in around Ansong from all sides. With a dozen or more men encircling him, Ansong vanished from view entirely.
But it wasn't long before they saw his back once more.
"Guhk!"
"My arm! My arm...!"
"AAAAH! My fingers!"
Ansong had unleashed a storm of slashing strikes in every direction. Under that merciless assault, the bandits each lost some part of their bodies and crawled across the ground, screaming.
"Ansong. Leave them all alive."
"Yes, Sogaju-nim."
I had no intention of killing these bandit bastards. Someone needed to be left alive to guide us to their stronghold. Of course, I had no intention of letting them die comfortably, either.
They would be permitted to die only after they had felt, bone-deep, the weight of what they had done.
Ansong carried out my orders without a hitch. Those who resisted lost an arm first; those who didn't had their ankles slashed so they couldn't flee. In the blink of an eye, some twenty bandits lay sprawled across the ground.
"Everyone! If you have rope or cord, please tie these men up. And someone look after the headman, please."
The villagers, who had been staring blankly at our handiwork, finally began to move at my command.
"Oh, Headman! What in the world happened to you!"
"S-Seonhwa. Where is Seonhwa?"
"The young master saved her! It's all over now!"
Once the situation was more or less under control, I turned my attention to Seonhwa. I'd caught a glimpse as I came running—there had been a blade at her throat.
Just as I thought.
It wasn't much, but she was bleeding a little. Those bandits would never have maintained their weapons properly, so I needed to wash the wound with clean water as soon as possible.
"Wait here a moment."
"...Yes."
So she could speak after all. I'd been worried over nothing.
I went to the well and drew up some water. Then, after giving a pointed look at the cloth Seonhwa was always handing to me, I soaked it and pressed it gently to her wound.
"Nnh."
"Sorry. Bear with it just a little."
After wiping the wound as carefully as I could, I pulled a jar of salve from my pouch. It said everything about how thoroughly Nari stocked my supplies that there were three or four more jars in my pack beyond it.
Seonhwa, who had flinched at every touch of my fingers, went completely limp once I finished applying the salve.
"Hnk... sob."
And then, only now, the tears came. It had been more than a child could bear. As I watched her with a pang in my chest, Ansong came dragging a bandit over.
"This one says he's one of their officers, Sogaju-nim."
"Is he, now?"
Well then. You're going to be our guide.
***
Saraheon was waiting for the men he'd sent down to the village. Until now they had taken only food, but with their camp life grown relatively comfortable of late, his men had turned their eyes to other spoils.
That was why Saraheon let their lateness slide—at first. He'd been in a good mood. But once the hour passed and stretched beyond it, his irritation began to curdle.
Useless louts.
How long had it even been since they deserted the army, and already they were getting sluggish? Back when they were soldiers, they'd been sharp enough to be worth the trouble of ordering around.
Tch.
Sighing, Saraheon rose from his seat. It seemed he would have to go himself. Just as he reached out to pull back the tent flap—
"Guhk!"
"Boss! There are martial artists out here—!"
"Don't come near! Get the bows! You idiots!"
Martial artists?
What on earth was going on? His confusion lasted only a heartbeat. Sword in hand, Saraheon pushed outside.
"Hey, you dogs! What's all this commotion ab—"
Thud.
Saraheon never finished the sentence. A bloodied arm came sailing through the air and landed at his feet, right in front of the opened tent. Swallowing hard, he looked around.
A small brat in silken robes, and a single warrior. And everywhere, his men sprawled across the ground. Remembering the word "martial artists" he'd heard before stepping out, he concluded the warrior must indeed be trained.
But why on earth would such a man attack a place like this? Yes, they had deserted, but they knew better than to fear nobles. Not once had they ever imagined committing a sin that nobles would hold against them.
His mind, unnaturally sharper than usual, offered a solution: talk, don't fight.
"What... seems to be the matter, my lord?"
Saraheon asked with the most respectful bow he could manage. The brat scrunched up his face and answered.
"We're catching bandits. What do you think the matter is? Just doing what needs doing."
"I don't know which noble house you hail from, but I swear to you, we have done nothing to earn anyone's grudge—"
"Your existence is the grudge, you bastard."
Saraheon reeled at the boy's words—only to be struck by something far worse.
Shraaak!
"Kht!"
The boy he'd taken for a pampered noble's son closed the distance in a single breath and swung his sword. And it was a blade wreathed in inner power.
He's insane!
Certain he would die on the spot, Saraheon frantically drew his sword. But before he could so much as swing it, he found himself driven to his knees.
"How dare you."
Ansong advanced on him, radiating a crushing pressure. Saraheon had trained in the martial arts too, if only a little. That was precisely why he felt the gulf between them far more keenly than his ignorant underlings ever could.
Tremble. Tremble.
Ansong bound the kneeling, shuddering Saraheon with rope, then looked toward Mujin.
"What would you like to do now, Sogaju-nim? Shall we hand them over to the magistrate?"
"No. Moving this many would take forever. We don't even have a cart."
"Then what should we—?"
"We kill them. Every last one."
There were plenty of reasons to kill them and not a single reason to spare them. That was reason enough.
***
The moment we returned to the village, the villagers erupted in cheers. After more than a year of paying tribute, they must have been at the very end of their rope.
"We're free!"
"Bless you, my lords! Bless you!"
"Please, have some of this."
I'd felt it when I returned alive from Byeokrando as well—being welcomed like this was a rather pleasant thing. I gave a small wave and made my way to the center of the village, where the bandits we had captured earlier were gathered.
With the bandit chief and the rest of his men rounded up, they numbered around thirty. For a bandit gang, that was a sizable force.
If we'd left them alone, they'd have grown into something far worse.
Given time, they would have seized the village outright and begun hunting the displaced peasants fleeing through the region. In a chaotic age like this one, bandits swelled into armies all too easily.
Just then, Seonhwa appeared, supporting the headman at his side. I narrowed my eyes and studied him—the bleeding had stopped. A small relief. I called him over.
"Are you all right?"
"All right? Of course I am. You young masters saved our village, so how could I be anything but? My thanks to you, once again."
"Haha."
I smiled briefly, then let my expression harden. I didn't know how much these people had suffered at the bandits' hands. Perhaps less than I imagined; perhaps far worse.
Either way, it was the victims who were owed the right to judge them.
"What would you have me do? If you wish it, I will give you the chance to execute them with your own hands."
At my words, the headman fell silent. The village, moments ago roaring with celebration, went abruptly still. When the headman finally spoke, his words were exactly what I had expected.
"Would you keep what we do a secret?"
"Of course."
"No...! Sogaju-nim, surely not—!"
Only Ansong was stunned. I looked into the headman's eyes, took Seonhwa's hand, and turned away. The headman said nothing at all.
As we walked back toward the house where we were staying, Ansong kept glancing over his shoulder.
"Are you certain we should leave it be? Won't the villagers end up as murderers because of this?"
"I imagine they will."
I answered offhandedly. Ansong flinched at my tone and pressed again.
"Then why—"
"Honestly? I hold no personal grudge against those bandits. The grudge belongs to the villagers, not to me."
I had watched it happen countless times in my past life, so I knew it whether I wished to or not: a grudge does not simply vanish because someone else handles it for you.
"Which means I have no right to pass judgment on them. That right belongs to the people they wronged. And whatever form that judgment takes, it must be honored."
Otherwise, the grudge would never be severed. As I finished, the headman's eyes rose in my memory.
There had been nothing in them but fury. Not a trace of pity, of grief, of anything soft. It had been that way from the moment we first met, every time until now.
After hearing me out, Ansong stopped looking back. He simply walked on, facing forward. As for Seonhwa—whether she understood or not, she stayed quietly at my side.