Chapter 50

The bearded man looked down at the six “rookies” sprawled out by the spring, a satisfied gleam in his eyes.

“Well, well. Fresh and green. And except for that beastkin over there, all of them are easy on the eyes, too. Not bad. Not bad at all. Hah… you say they don’t have anything worth taking? Their bodies alone are gold mines. Heh heh heh.”

Next to him, a burly axe-wielder grinned nastily.

“So? How should we divide them up?”

“That beastkin with the big snout—kill him and bury him. The mage girl and the archer girl, drug ’em up. That priestess is special grade, so dose her lightly and slap a Geas on her.”

“And the two guys?”

“Hmm… they’re both good-looking enough, might find buyers… but first, cut their ankle tendons and sear them. We’ll decide the rest later.”

“B-Boss.”

“Hm? What is it, Kutak?”

“It’s Kutok, not Kutak.”

“Right, right. Kutok. Our brave orc tank. So what?”

“Th-That blond pretty-boy. G-Give him to me. I’ll… use him.”

“Oh, right. You did say you wanted him, huh?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Fine. A favor. That’ll be ten thousand sel.”

“Boss! Thank you! I’ll treat him preciously! I’ll pay you later!”

“Precious, worthless, I don’t care. Just remember—you can’t take him topside.”

“I-I know. I’ll use him only in the labyrinth. When I leave, I’ll kill him and dump the body.”

“Good. Then that’s settled. …Now, what about this black-haired kid with the good build? Hey, Kutak, don’t you want this one too? Looks more your type.”

“N-No. He’s scary.”

“Scary? What’s scary?”

“I don’t know. Just… scary.”

“Bah, whatever. He’s yours anyway.”

“…For free?”

“Yeah. What, you getting greedy now, pig?”

“F-Free? Free is good. Fine. I’ll take him, even if he’s scary.”

The orc called Kutok trudged toward the unconscious black-haired youth, looking uneasy. The bearded man scowled at the sight.

“Ugh. Look at that pig’s eyes go wild just ’cause it’s free. What, did he play us just to grab him cheap?”

At that, the rat-faced crossbowman next to him snickered.

“Come on, boss. He already paid ten thousand for the blond pretty-boy. Giving him a useless dark-haired human on top won’t kill us. Even dumb orcs get pissed if you keep squeezing them. Tossing him a freebie now and then keeps him docile.”

“…Shit. You’re right.”

And then—

“Freebie? That’s harsh.”

“….!!”

A stranger’s voice rang out from behind them.

“Why am I the freebie, while that guy’s worth ten thousand?”

The bearded man and the rat-bearded one slowly turned toward the voice.

“Ghhk… gkkk…”

There stood the black-haired youth, casually tossing aside an orc whose neck bent in a grotesque L-shape.

He grinned at the two.

“Honestly, if it were the other way around, I might’ve let you live. Too bad, huh?”

“You… how are you—”

“Oh, the mana intoxication? Doesn’t work on me. Body’s too damn sturdy for that crap to stick.”

“What…?”

“Enough talk. Time for you all to die and rot. Our cute little ex-Demon King here says you stink too much to be left alive.”

The bearded man barked out a laugh.

“Pffthaha! Has this brat lost it? I’ll give you credit for snapping an orc’s neck barehanded, but… what the hell do you think you can do against our whole party alone?”

“What can I do?”

The youth smirked. Out of nowhere, a staff appeared in his grip. He stamped his foot and swung.

KWOOM!!

A shockwave burst forth, the gale slashing across the bearded man’s cheek.

And when he lowered his hand from shielding his eyes…

The rat-bearded man who’d been laughing with him a heartbeat earlier was gone—only his legs from the knees down remained.

“…!”

The sight was so unreal it was almost comical, yet the chill running up the bearded man’s spine was all too real.

The black-haired youth shrugged with a crooked smile.

“See? That’s what I can do. Did that answer your question?”

For a moment, the bearded man stood frozen, speechless. Then he shrieked and bolted backward.

“M-Monster! Formation 13! Move it if you want to live!!”

He was losing it. What kind of monster had stumbled into their path? This was like running into an ogre in his own courtyard.

Still backpedaling, eyes locked on the black-haired youth, the bearded man’s mind raced.

Sure, he’d fallen this low—just another scum eking out a living ambushing adventurers. But once, he’d worn the tabard of the Imperial Capital’s Knight Order. A mere rank-and-file knight, true, yet hailed as someone who would soon break through the wall and step into Blaster rank.

A wall he never managed to break.

But that was why he knew. This youth… was a monster.

Wiping out a Mana User in a single blow? Moving faster than the eye could track? If it were just that, he wouldn’t have been this rattled.

His party had a mage and a priest. A veteran tank could stall even someone a rank higher for a minute or two. Normally, that would’ve been enough.

But this wasn’t normal.

In that fleeting instant, he’d seen it—no, felt it.

That incomprehensible depth hidden in the youth’s simple horizontal staff swing.

‘Shit. Shit… what the hell is he? Why is someone like that tagging along with brats? A guardian? Did the Guild plant him? No… impossible!’

He remembered something from years ago.

When the Baran Empire was founded, the nation had invited its one and only Grand Master, Duke Orléans, to the capital for the celebration.

The Duke hadn’t fired fireworks. He had drawn his sword.

That single slash had torn earth, split mountains, and raked across the heavens, blotting out the sun for a moment.

That light forced Panqal to pull its troops from the border. It made the United Kingdom abandon grain tariffs. And it brought smaller states, emboldened enough to stop paying tribute, crawling back on their knees.

The people had cheered, rejoiced. But those who sought martial truth had only trembled in awe.

He had been there. He had witnessed it. And in that blinding brilliance, he had despaired—knowing he would never reach such heights. That despair had become his inner demon, binding his legs forever.

But in all those years of wrestling with it, losing again and again, he had gained one thing.

—Instinct.

—The eye to recognize a true master from the smallest signs.

It was why he had survived, feeding on adventurers from labyrinth to labyrinth without ever falling.

And his instinct screamed:

‘This isn’t even a fight. Against him, survival itself is impossible by normal means.’

“Formation 13! Back to the entrance! Shields up! Move it if you don’t want to die!!”

His men obeyed reflexively, though doubt flickered in their eyes.

Formation 13 was only called when facing at least three True Silver opponents. If escape was possible, it was escape. If not—throw everything into surviving, no matter the cost.

But really? This guy?

They had seen Rat-Beard reduced to chunks in a blink. But a troll could do something similar, couldn’t it?

Not this clean, sure, but still.

And trolls were prey, not predators.

“What are you doing!? Move! Assume he’s at least Platinum. Could be Mithril! Archers, free fire! Tanks and dealers, wall up to protect the mage and priest! No one charges! Mage—targeted spells only! If it doesn’t lock on him, don’t waste mana! Priest—buff the front with Bless, Striking, and Valor! Look for any chance to debuff! Kutak, Guki—you drop your weapons and shield up only!!”

“Boss. Kutok’s dead. He’s gone.”

“…Ah, fuck. That dumb pigshit pervert…!”

“Not pervert. Refined. Noble. Orc… love.”

“Shut it, you pig! Grab Kutok’s shield and fight for two!”

“B-Boss, isn’t this overkill? I mean, yeah, he’s scary, but he’s not even using aura. He’s not… an Aura User, right?”

“You idiot! How the hell do you know if he’s not using it, or doesn’t need it!? Anyone that strong without aura is even worse! Shut up and do your damn job, before I skin your bald head raw!!”

“B-Boss… that’s such a cruel insult…”

“Shut up!!”

Breathing raggedly, the bearded man leveled his spear at the youth.

“Last warning! Escape is impossible! He already wants us dead—turn your backs, and it’s over! If you’re scared, swing your blades anyway! Got it!?”

“““Y-Yessir!!”””

I had to admit, I was impressed. Their reaction speed wasn’t something you’d expect from trash who lived off ambushing adventurers.

That hedgehog-like formation—spines out, protecting their core. It was built for someone like me. The bearded one had sharp eyes. I’d barely shown him anything, yet he’d sniffed me out. Could he be seeing my status? Well, not that it mattered.

I let them set up, gave them plenty of prep time. Then I stepped forward, calm and steady.

The bearded man swallowed hard, then screamed.

“Fire!!”

Thwish, thwish, thwish!!

Mana-charged arrows streaked toward me. I lazily swatted them aside with my staff. Somewhere in the back, the archer yelped in disbelief.

“Waves, rise! Crush him! Tidal Wave! (Water attribute, 4th level)!!”

From behind, the spring surged upward, crashing toward me in a roaring flood.

“Whoops.”

BOOM!!

I didn’t bother dodging. My staff slammed through the heart of the torrent, shattering the spellwork itself. The magic unraveled, leaving nothing but raw water that collapsed forward harmlessly.

But the mage wasn’t done.

“Frozen earth, pierce my foe! Reinforced Tracking Icicle! (Ice attribute, 4th level)!!”

Kakakakakakakakakak!!

Dozens of razor icicles swarmed toward me like guided missiles.

“Oh? Not bad.”