After packing up our things, we headed back the way we’d come.
But as I walked with the group toward the back alleys, Kai paused.
Holding his nose, he muttered, “It stinks.”
The air was thick with the damp smell of stagnant water, mixed with the unmistakable squelch of vomit.
When those two scents joined forces, the result was a foul stench.
Squelch.
“Ah! Which bastard decided to puke here and ruin everything?!” Lancelot, having stepped right into it, screwed up his face and screamed.
He was wearing army boots, so cleaning them wasn’t much trouble, but the smell was stubborn enough to make his eyes water.
“Keep your distance for us, will you?” Kai said.
“What?!” Lancelot protested, as if the world itself had wronged him.
I ignored him and glanced around.
As I’d mentioned previously, this was the shadow of the territory—the hidden side. A trash bin built for the sake of a glittering stage.
That’s what these back alleys of Miphra Territory really were.
“It really is serious.”
The smell throbbed in my head.
I struck a match and lit a cigarette. The acrid smoke, at least, managed to blunt the worst of the stench.
“That’s a bit better.”
Through the curling smoke, the people of the back alley came into view.
They sprawled in corners, swaying as if drugged, some of them asleep with vomit still smeared across their mouths.
Meanwhile, rats darted about and gray pigeons pecked at the vomit.
Truly, “trash bin” was the perfect name for this place.
Just as I was clicking my tongue at the scene, Roxen approached and asked, “By the way, my liege, why are we coming this way?”
Roxen rarely spoke. For him to speak up now, he must have been genuinely baffled by my course of actions.
Well, it’s not as if there’s any good reason to take this route when there are perfectly nice roads elsewhere.
I replied to Roxen casually. “We have to come this way if we want them to show up.”
“…You mean those pests flying about us?”
I nodded without fuss.
Just as the auctioneer had mentioned earlier, there were plenty of thieves lurking about, all hoping to snatch up the auction goods.
What were the chances they’d avoid us on the main streets?
I shook my head slightly at the thought.
As if.
If anything, not being able to kill them because of witnesses was more of a nuisance. It was better to do it somewhere you could bury the evidence.
“On that note, we’d better start getting ready. Looks like they’ve started tailing us.” I warned the others quietly, casting a sideways glance.
Sure enough, no sooner had the words left my mouth than a voice full of irritation rose up from behind our group.
“…Ugh, did we really have to come all the way into this dump?”
“Well, we had no choice, did we? They came here, so we had to follow.”
“So why do I have to be here as well?!”
Turning around, I spotted a boy with dark red hair and his retinue of knights.
The boy was in the middle of kicking at his bodyguards.
Just then—
“Ugh! Fucking—what is this now?” The boy, following Lancelot’s unfortunate example, stepped right into a puddle of vomit and screwed up his face.
Maybe the stench had finally reached him. He shook his foot in disgust, trying to fling off the mess.
“Fuck! FUUUUCK!”
Not satisfied with cursing, the boy wiped his soiled boot on the armor of the knight beside him, then snapped with a face full of irritation, “Deal with them! I can’t stand another moment in this place!”
“Yes, sir.”
As the boy—Martin Artezia—shrieked, the surrounding knights all drew their swords in unison.
It seemed my guess was correct. They were here to rob us.
“Robbery, is it?” I asked.
Martin, having calmed down a bit, caught his breath and replied, “Hah… I’m just taking back what’s mine. As if someone like you could ever get your hands on it.”
Sweeping his hair back, he finished, “Ain’t that right, you Berg idiot?”
“…”
“Honestly, when I heard you tossing around numbers like a hundred million, two hundred million, I thought you were royalty or some foreign magnate. But you’re just a Berg?”
Martin started to sneer in earnest.
“I mean, really—can you blame me? I was so flabbergasted, I must’ve pestered Makio half a dozen times, ‘Is that for real?’ Didn’t I?”
“That’s right.” Makio, standing at Martin’s side, nodded along.
Judging by the smirk plastered across his face, he’d probably told Martin everything.
Well, of course he had. Martin wouldn’t have known a thing about me otherwise; it was all thanks to that blabbermouth.
He must have sniffed out my identity and dashed over, convinced he’d stumbled upon a golden opportunity.
But then again…
Someone here doesn’t know who’s the hound and who’s the hare.
Sss—
I drew on the last of my cigarette, exhaling a thin ribbon of grey smoke. Then, eyeing the lot of them, I asked softly, “Have you said your piece?”
I dropped the spent cigarette to the ground and ground it out under my boot.
“In that case, let me ask you one thing. Why are you so certain you’ll win?”
“What?”
“I mean, isn’t it funny? Just a small pack of Aura Adepts teaming up to play highwaymen—and not a single one of you senses anything wrong.”
I let out a short, humorless laugh and peeled off my leather gloves. The winter wind nipped at my bare fingers.
“…What are you doing?” Martin, watching my every move, arched an eyebrow. But judging by his utter lack of tension, he clearly didn’t think I could do anything to upset this development.
For that, I was grateful.
I slid the thimble I’d picked up at the auction onto my finger.
The wooden thimble fit as if it had been waiting its whole life for this very finger.
As I released a deep breath, something—knowledge, or perhaps something more—filtered into my mind through the thimble.
A technique of the Divine Archer. Or, to put it plainly: a skill.
I took a measured breath, letting the skill settle in my mind.
At the same time, I surveyed the scene before me: those glaring daggers at me, and my own subordinates, waiting for my signal.
Gripping the bow slung across my back, I addressed my companions.
“Lancelot, Roxen. Our opponents are bandits bold enough to try and assault a noble. So… kill them all.”
* * *
Clang! Clang!
Lancelot and Roxen tangled with Martin’s escort knights, swords and bodies colliding in a blur of steel and indignation.
Spears, swords, and shields clashed, producing a sharp racket.
Kai guarded the coachman, slicing down anyone reckless enough to rush us. The trembling coachman occasionally stooped to hurl a rock.
He was just flinging stones at random, but fortune saw to it that a few unlucky foes caught one to the head and collapsed in a heap.
Surprisingly useful, that one.
I praised the coachman inwardly, then fixed a glare on Martin and Makio.
Makio, playing the part of Martin’s overzealous nanny, hovered protectively at his side, glaring daggers at me.
Judging by the whip in his hand, he seemed to have at least a bit of muscle to back up his attitude.
Well, not that it matters.
I lost all interest in Makio. He wasn’t important right now, as I could kill him any time I liked.
What mattered was the boy beside him, the one glaring at me with all the venom he could muster.
Martin Artezia. He’d been a thorn in my side since my previous life.
“Is it because you’re a count’s brat? You wear your ignorance like a badge”
“Go on, dance for me. Maybe then I’ll tell my sister to marry you”
So many jeers and torments. Honestly, he might have outdone even Hera in the fine art of making my life miserable.
Who’d have imagined I’d get a chance for revenge?
The Goddess must be awfully fond of me.
I offered a quick prayer of thanks as I drew back the bowstring.
Screeeee—!
Twang!
The arrow shot from the string, streaking straight for the crown of Martin’s head.
But the arrow never reached Martin.
Just before it could strike, Makio’s whip lashed out and shattered it.
Crack!
The arrow burst into fragments, scattering uselessly across the ground.
“Archery…? I never imagined the young lord of House Berg would stoop to playing at bowman.”
“‘Bowman’ is a bit of a stretch, really.”
“Quite. To call that archery would be... well, frankly, it’s embarrassing for the profession.” Makio’s voice oozed mockery.
He clearly thought this was all I had to offer—my entire bag of tricks, emptied out on the floor for his amusement.
He probably assumed my winning the Supreme Elixir at the auction was just the desperate floundering of a fool.
But the arrow I’d just fired hadn’t used a single drop of Aura.
And for good reason—I wasn’t about to let Martin die quickly, and certainly not painlessly. No, he needed to die thoroughly, steeped in suffering.
But not yet. Even if I wiped out everyone here, my own men were watching.
No matter how much I trusted them, I had no intention of letting them witness a noble’s murder.
If they ever turned on me, that would be a headache I’d rather not have.
Trust no one.
In this life, I trusted only two things: my family and myself.
So, Martin would live. For now.
But that didn’t mean I was feeling charitable.
“I suppose I should at least destroy his Aura Heart.” I muttered, just loud enough for them to hear, then turned to the coachman. “Your friend at the casino. Is he trustworthy?”
Perhaps it was the abruptness of the question. The coachman, still trembling, blinked at me in confusion.
But when he saw my face, he realized I was serious and managed to answer. “Y-yes, milord! He’s one of the few who turned his life around under the old lady! Just a harmless, ordinary fellow with no ambition. He just wants to get through each day!”
“Good.” I nodded, satisfied.
I liked the coachman’s quick wits, and his friend’s temperament suited me just fine.
“In that case, I’ll give you a present.”
“A present?”
“Yes, a present.” I nocked another arrow to the bowstring as I spoke.
Screeeee—
The bowstring stretched, making that satisfying sound only archers and bowstrings truly appreciate.
Seeing me repeat the same motion, Martin and Makio both laughed mockingly.
But I let the corners of my mouth curl up in a smirk.
That first arrow? It was just bait, meant to lure them into dropping their guard. No Aura, no technique—just an ordinary arrow, fired for the sole purpose of making them underestimate me.
But this time would be different.
With the coachman’s confirmation, it was finally time to put my plan into action.
I kept my eyes locked on Martin, but spoke to the coachman. “I will gift you the innkeeper’s happiness. From now on, no one will lay a hand on her.”
Crackle— Sizzle-snap—
Aura wrapped around the arrow, blue sparks swirling and crackling with barely contained savagery, as if the arrow itself was spoiling for a fight.
I gripped the bow, carefully controlling what little Aura I had.
This was the skill I’d just gained from the Divine Archer—Lightning Bolt.
It was an Aura-guzzler of a move, but for sheer power against a single target, it was among the Divine Archer’s deadliest techniques.
I aimed straight for Makio’s right leg and released the string.
Thwack.
The arrow leapt from the bow, tracing a straight line of lightning.
That bolt of raw energy flew so fast it was impossible for the human eye to follow, aimed straight at Makio’s leg.
<Lightning Bolt>
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT!
A blue flash blasted Makio’s right leg clean off, and the bodyguards behind him were knocked out of the fight in one electrifying instant.
“AAAAAAARRRGH!” Makio, who’d been so generous with his mockery, now found himself equally generous with his screams.
All around, the bodyguards groaned and whimpered, and the air still crackled with lingering electricity.
Amid the chaos, I declared softly, “Today, the owner of the Miph Merchant Guild will change.”