Episode 84

“Hmph. What help could you possibly offer, with those two rookies still wet behind the ears?”

The comment was clearly directed at Mediam and Ismail.

“Merchants pay us money, but you’re just freeloaders tagging along without paying. We don’t work for free.”

“How cold-hearted. Fine, we’ll back off.”

Azadine started distancing his group from the armed merchant caravan.

At that moment, a group of individuals, separate from the merchant caravan, moved in closer to Azadine’s group, drawing their weapons.

“They don’t seem to be with the merchant caravan…”

“Hey! You over there!”

“Hand over everything you’ve got and leave! Spare your lives, and we’ll let you go.”

“Hahaha!”

“……”

The merchant caravan saw this happening and simply smirked at Azadine’s group before hurrying along their path, showing no concern for the ambush unfolding behind them.

“How stingy.”

Azadine chuckled bitterly at the retreating caravan.

“That little girl’s quite a looker.”

“And the boy’s not bad either. We could sell them for a good price.”

The bandits, underestimating Azadine’s group, already regarded them as prey.

“Even when traveling with me, this happens. How did you two manage when you traveled alone?”

“We usually traveled with the Korasar Peddler Guild.”

Ismail replied calmly.

“What should we do?”

“Hm. Let’s gather some information, but don’t kill them.”

Azadine’s response made the bandits laugh. There were six of them, facing a group with just Azadine and two teenagers, Mediam and Ismail. It wasn’t surprising that they thought it would be an easy victory.

—Wham!

Azadine kicked a rock off the ground, caught it mid-air, and swung it with both hands. Two bandits screamed, clutching their groins as they collapsed.

“Urgh?!”

“Aagh!”

“You bastard!”

The startled bandits drew their weapons, but Mediam and Ismail quickly retrieved daggers from their belts and hurled them.

—Thwack!

The daggers struck the bandits’ heads and necks.

“Gah?!”

“Argh!”

Two more bandits fell. In an instant, four of the six were incapacitated.

“I said not to kill them.”

“There are six of them. Killing two should be fine, right?”

“Life is irreversible. Once it’s taken, it can’t be returned.”

Azadine smiled as he said this.

“We should leave them crippled to give them a chance to become better people.”

“Well, I doubt they’d want such an opportunity.”

Mediam questioned Azadine’s peculiar philosophy on the sanctity of life.

“W-Wait!”

“P-Please spare us!”

The remaining bandits surrendered in terror at Azadine’s words.

“I told you, I won’t kill you.”

“T-That’s because… We were originally commoners.”

“We fled west because of the drought, but there were no jobs, and begging could only get us so far, so we became bandits. What else were we supposed to do, starve to death?”

“If that’s true, why did you demand we leave the kids behind? Selling them off as slaves suggests you’ve been working with slavers, doesn’t it?”

Slavery was explicitly illegal across the Eight Kingdoms. Yet, the practice persisted widely.

Working with slavers required a long-term, organized effort. Claiming to have become bandits out of necessity didn’t align with this reality.

“T-There’s someone who handles that.”

“Rumor has it he’s a spy for the Lord of Lantarique, working to weaken Salasma…”

“Y-Yeah!”

The bandits spilled information, but Mediam, annoyed, pulled out her sword.

“Azadine, what should we do? Should I cut off their fingers?”

“Wait. Let’s hear them out.”

“There’s nothing to hear. They’re just saying whatever they can to save themselves.”

“True, but not everything they say is a lie. You, where is this supposed agent of the Lord of Lantarique?”

“He… He’s there.”

“If you head down into the basin, there’s an old logging village. He’s staying there. It’s about a day’s walk from here.”

“When you reach a fork, go north. Then, at the next crossroads, head west.”

“Hm, what do you think, Ismail?”

“The direction and distance seem about right.”

Ismail, understanding Azadine’s intent, confirmed the information with a glance.

“Good. Now, you’ll guide us to the slavers.”

“W-What?”

“You said there are people you trade with. Take us to them.”

“But we told you the directions already!”

“I want to approach as a customer. If I say I want to buy a Naga woman, they’ll understand.”

“B-But…”

The bandits hesitated. If they led Azadine to the slavers’ den, it would expose their failure to everyone.

‘They’ll mock us for being beaten by someone like him.’

‘But if we don’t…’

The bandits glanced at their incapacitated comrades. Those struck in the groin had their pants soaked with blood. They had been castrated.

“F-Fine, we’ll guide you.”

The bandits’ den was deep within a forested basin. A tributary of the Kora River flowed through the forest, keeping the area lush. Moss clung to the tree trunks, nourished by the moisture.

While the eastern interior suffered from drought, this shaded, dense forest was an anomaly. However, its thick canopy made it a perfect location for ambushes.

“What a great spot for an ambush. If we came here without a guide, it would’ve been a hassle.”

“Still, demanding to buy a slave is a bold move.”

Mediam and Ismail, now understanding Azadine’s reasoning for bringing the bandits as guides, clicked their tongues in disbelief.

“Shh. Be quiet. They’re coming.”

As expected, bandits emerged from the forest, aiming bows at Azadine’s group. However, their archery skills were too poor to hit only Azadine’s group without risking their own men.

“What’s this? Who are these guys?”

“You’ve got a Naga woman, right? I’m here to buy her.”

“……”

The bandits hesitated at Azadine’s request, unsure how to respond. The one who seemed to be in charge silenced the others and glared at the bandits Azadine had captured.

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

“That… that’s what they’re saying.”

“They’re here to buy the Naga woman.”

“How did they know we captured a Naga woman? Could they also be Nagas?”

The bandits deliberately ignored Azadine’s group, talking amongst themselves.

“Hm. I’d appreciate it if you could decide whether to sell or not. You lot seem to lack the basic etiquette for hosting customers.”

“Don’t make me laugh, you bastard!”

One of the bandits holding a bow drew his string.

“If you shoot, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, shut up!”

The bandit released his arrow. In the blink of an eye, Azadine ducked and exploded forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. He grabbed the archer by the hair.

“I said I’d kill you, didn’t I? But I’ve changed my mind. I won’t kill you.”

“Wha—?!”

—Crack!

Azadine yanked the bandit’s head down and swept his fist across the man’s face. Blood and flesh splattered onto the grass.

“Gah!”

“Argh!”

Azadine’s fist struck like the blade of a spear, tearing into the bandit’s face. His eye popped out, and his nose was shattered as he screamed in agony.

“Aaaargh!”

“Perhaps by suffering through the rest of your life, you might find redemption.”

“……”

“Phew…”

Azadine snatched the quiver from the wounded bandit and swung it, spilling arrows at Mediam and Ismail’s feet.

“To break their spirit, kill half of them.”

“Understood.”

“Got it.”

Mediam and Ismail drew their Moon Horn Bows and nocked their arrows.

“You bastards!”

The remaining bandits prepared to retaliate, but Azadine shoved the bloodied archer into them, disrupting their attack, and closed in again.

—Crack!

—Thud!

With kicks and punches, Azadine felled two bandits—one’s face caved in as though kicked by a horse, while the other’s ribcage shattered. At the same time—

—Thwip, thwip!

Arrows from Mediam and Ismail began to rain down. Though the bandits had the advantage in numbers, they were quickly pushed into a defensive position.

“Guh?!”

“D-Damn it!”

“Oh no! They’re part of the Messenger Clan!”

As the bandits fell one by one, they finally recognized Azadine’s group for who they were.

“The Messenger Clan?!”

“Gods help us.”

“It’s too late!”

Ismail aimed an arrow at the face of the bandit who had been leading the negotiations. But before it struck, Azadine caught it mid-flight, stopping it from piercing the man.

“What?!”

“We’re past half.”

Azadine, counting the number of casualties, noted that over half the bandits were incapacitated. He decided to call off the killing.

“But anything short of killing them should be fine.”

He jabbed the arrow he had caught into the bandit’s eye, then yanked it out.

“Aaaargh!”

The man collapsed, screaming as he writhed on the ground.

“Unbelievable…”

“This is the Messenger Clan!”

The bandits who had guided Azadine to the den could only gape in shock. Of the twelve bandits who had come out to meet them, six were already dead. The rest were either blinded or gravely injured.

“All right, the lesson is over. Go tell your leader that I’m here to buy the Naga woman.”

“……”

The remaining bandits shuddered at the sight.

It was one thing to overwhelm a group of opponents with a surprise attack. Most of the bandits were former farmers, refugees driven to crime by the drought. Compared to professional soldiers, they were poorly trained and weak.

But to declare this massacre a “lesson” and then ease the attack so casually? That level of confidence was almost unimaginable.

The Bandit King Doneor could not comprehend the carnage before him. He saw it with his eyes, but his mind struggled to process it.

“What in the world happened?”

“They’re… They’re from the Messenger Clan.”

The completely demoralized bandits cowered as they approached Doneor like dogs in the rain.

“The Messenger Clan? What do they want?”

As Doneor questioned them, Azadine stepped forward.

“You have a Naga woman. I’m here to buy her.”

“Buy her?”

“I don’t usually deal with slavers, but killing all you refugees feels too cruel. I’ll pay you a fair price.”

“……”

It was an outrageously arrogant statement. To claim he could casually end their lives and offer payment as an act of mercy demonstrated absolute confidence.

And yet…

‘They’re utterly broken.’

One glance at the bandits showed that none of them wanted to fight the Messenger Clan, no matter the cost.

‘I’m not like these farmers. I’m a warrior, and I have my men.’

Among Doneor’s subordinates were operatives sent by the Lord of Lantarique. These were trained warriors, far superior to the average farmer.

‘The farmers lost their nerve because they saw abilities beyond their comprehension. But could these people handle real warriors?’

As Doneor pondered, his thoughts were interrupted.