Chapter 20: Wanted Criminals, the Maw Bandits (2)
Mana Sealing—just as the name implied, it was a type of magic that prevented the opponent from using mana.
It required quite sophisticated mana control and was known to be a technique only high-ranking mages could employ.
However, the story was a bit different when it came to Hardin.
‘That’s just something the incompetent say.’
For him, it was nothing more than simply gathering mana and blocking a few of the main circuits, hardly a technique worth making a fuss over.
Of course, the situation looked a bit... no, very different from Mikkelsen’s perspective.
‘Mana Sealing? That... was something anyone could use?’
Wasn’t that supposed to be a technique reserved for high-ranking mages in the Mage Tower?
Mikkelsen widened his eyes and asked again.
“What exactly... are you?”
It felt strange to say this himself, but when it came to running, he was confident he wouldn’t lose to anyone.
He was also a mana user, and he knew the geography of this mountain like the back of his hand.
Yet this man crawled out even when he dropped him into traps, and flew right back up even when he threw him off a cliff.
And now he could even cast Mana Sealing so easily?
‘Was he a renowned knight from some noble house? Or...’
If such a young man possessed this level of skill, there was no way he hadn’t heard of him.
Just then, Hardin grinned and answered.
“Me? Hardin Daphne.”
“...Excuse me?”
“You don’t know the Daphne Viscounty? It’s pretty close from here.”
“That, Daphne... do you mean that tiny Viscounty next to Calpion?”
Smack!
“Aaagh! Why did you hit me?”
“Is my house rat shit to you?”
“Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that... You asked if I knew them. Isn’t that the house with that shut-in Young Master or whatever?”
Smack!
“Ugh! Again, why?”
“That shut-in Young Master is me, you bastard.”
“...R-Really?”
“Yeah.”
A shut-in Young Master who could use Mana Sealing?
Uh... this was really different from what he had imagined.
Mikkelsen’s eyes rolled around in confusion.
“Anyway, lead me to where your friends are. Now.”
“Ah... Yes.”
Mikkelsen lowered his head slightly, glancing at Hardin warily, then began walking ahead.
‘I... I have to endure for now...’
That man who called himself the shut-in Young Master—he had to admit, he was strong, and the fact he could use Mana Sealing made him quite... unusual.
More than anything, he was the one who had subdued him, Mikkelsen, the rising star of the Maw Bandits.
But that was one thing, and...
‘In any case, this guy... he’s alone right now.’
At the mountain hideout, there were still thirteen members of the Maw Bandits waiting.
Every single one of them was a mana user and stronger than Mikkelsen.
No matter how skilled this bastard was, there was no way he could handle all of them alone.
‘Yes, exactly. To begin with... I’m the weakest in our band!’
And more importantly, that infamous Crimson Maw—our leader—was there too.
That the leader would lose to this guy? That could never happen.
‘Once we get back to the hideout, I’ll pay him back for this humiliation all at once.’
Ehehehe, ehehehehehe!
Just as a sly grin crept across Mikkelsen’s face.
Thud!
Hardin kicked him on the butt again.
“Aaagh! Why are you hitting me!”
“Your laugh is annoying.”
“...Can’t I even do that?”
“No.”
“...Damn bastard, just you wait.”
Mikkelsen ground his teeth quietly as he walked.
How much farther had they gone like that?
“Are we there yet?”
“W-We’re almost there. Just ten more minutes. Only ten.”
“You said it’d be ten minutes before, too.”
“I meant we were almost there.”
“Try speaking a little more clearly.”
“You have to understand me even if I talk like dog bread or rice cake...”
Crack!
Hardin’s fist clenched tight.
“What was that?”
“Hrm! Nothing.”
They crossed mountains and streams, walking farther still.
Off in the distance, several huts built deep within the forest came into view—a mountain hideout.
“That’s the place. See? Didn’t we really get here quickly?”
“Huuh... Let’s go.”
Hardin and Mikkelsen stepped straight into the hideout.
And then—
“Hahaha! Win! You’d better win!”
“I’m putting 5 gold on Deron!”
“I’m betting 5 gold on Umty!”
Loud shouts echoed from afar.
As they closed the distance, they saw about a dozen men crowded around, encircling two in the center and yelling at the top of their lungs.
“Hey, hold on.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Let’s watch for a bit.”
“Ah... Yes.”
Hardin stopped and half-hid himself behind a tree, and Mikkelsen nodded in understanding.
“Come on, you bastard!”
“You’re dead meat!”
The two men in the middle bounced in place, pretending to punch the air.
“Hrrrrmph!”
Smack!
One of them thrust out a fist, his eyes flaring with a bluish gleam.
“Ha! You think you can hit me with that?”
The other man blocked it and countered right away.
Thud! Thump! Crack!
Their fists and feet traded blows swiftly, striking each other’s bodies.
Each impact rang out with a dull, heavy thud.
“Faster! You have to get inside faster!”
“Ugh, what the hell are you doing!”
The spectators kept up a constant barrage of coaching.
Hardin’s brow furrowed deeper as he watched.
‘...Every single one’s a mana user.’
He had expected a few mana users, given the high bounty.
But judging by the way these bastards carried themselves, it looked like every last one of them had learned mana, even though they were mere bandits.
‘If you’re going to issue bounties, at least write things like that clearly on the wanted posters.’
Who in their right mind would expect a bunch of bandits to be mana users?
Hardin already felt his strength draining away.
‘Well, the numbers don’t really add up, but...’
He’d come this far—what could he do now?
He’d just have to beat them all senseless and collect the bounty.
That way, he could rescue the mercenaries and then join the Territorial War with the money.
‘I’m so damn tired I could die.’
He sighed heavily and stared blankly into space for a moment with a faraway look in his eyes.
“Let’s go.”
“Ah, yes!”
Whack!
Then, kicking Mikkelsen on the butt again, he started walking forward.
---
...A little while later.
“All right, all right, if anyone wants to go next, step up.”
“Oh-ho, are you going for a second win?”
“You have to ride the momentum while it’s hot.”
While the bandits were noisily bantering—
“Excuse me, can I join this time?”
Swoosh.
A man stepped forward, raising his hand high.
It was the blond-haired man Hardin, and the youngest, Mikkelsen.
“Hm? Mikkelsen?”
“...What is this?”
The problem was... the youngest, Mikkelsen’s face was swollen like a balloon.
At the sight, the bandits’ eyes turned as wide as lanterns.
‘What the hell is going on here?’
Just as everyone stood there bewildered—
“Hah!”
Dash!
Suddenly, Mikkelsen lunged forward, shaking Hardin off, and leapt into the midst of the bandits.
“Brothers! P-please save me!”
“...What is it, Mikkelsen?”
“I-I was picking mushrooms when this bastard hit me in the back of the head! If I hadn’t been caught off guard, there’s no way I would have lost...!”
“In the back of the head? That bastard?”
“Damn, what a dirty son of a bitch.”
I hit him in the back of the head? When?
Wasn’t it that bastard who set traps and pulled every cheap trick in the book?
Hardin narrowed his eyes to slits.
The bandits turned back to Mikkelsen with more questions.
“So, what exactly is that bastard?”
“T-that... he’s from the Daphne Viscounty, that... shut-in Young Master or whatever!”
What? Shut-in Young Master?
Twitch!
A vein bulged on Hardin’s forehead.
“...The shut-in Young Master? The one who got beaten half to death by Viscount Calpion and became a cripple?”
“Yes! He says he’s that guy!”
These bastards... they were really pushing it...
Twitch! Twitch!
Another vein popped out.
Meanwhile, one of the bandits pressed on with more questions.
“So why would someone like that come all the way here?”
“I-I’m not exactly sure myself...”
“If you don’t know, what the hell!”
“Isn’t it obviously bounty hunting?”
“Bounty hunting? And he came alone?”
“Yes! Hurry, beat him to a pulp! Do you know how much I suffered because of him...!”
The bandits tilted their heads, then shifted their gaze back to Hardin.
And soon after—
“Well, whatever. The point is, we just have to smash that bastard, right?”
“Yes, yes!”
Crack! Crack!
Deron—the one who had just won his match—grinned as he rotated his wrists back and forth.
Then he slowly walked forward.
“Hrrrrmph!”
Vwoooom!
His eyes gleamed an icy blue as he thrust his fist forward with a crisp motion.
In an instant, he moved so fast it felt like he left only an afterimage behind.
‘Got him!’
Just as Deron wore a triumphant smile—
“Tsk.”
Smack!
“Ghak!”
Hardin’s fist crashed straight into Deron’s face, sending him flying far to the opposite side where he tumbled over and over.
“Swinging your fist at someone out of nowhere isn’t very polite.”
Hardin shook the blood off his knuckles as he spoke.
In that moment, the bandits’ eyes changed completely.
‘Who the hell is this guy?’
‘Deron... taken out in a single blow?’
While everyone stood frozen, Mikkelsen quickly hid behind the other bandits and shouted—
“Brothers! That bastard is stronger than you think! You can’t take him alone! You have to gang up on him!”
“Wait, didn’t you say just now you lost because he hit you in the back of the head?”
“Is that really important right now? Hurry up!”
“...Ah, fine.”
Tch, that change of attitude came like a lightning strike. A lightning strike.
‘That bastard still hasn’t come to his senses.’
A sigh slipped out from Hardin’s mouth.
The bandits began to slowly encircle him.
“What the hell is this all of a sudden?”
“Who knows. Just don’t let your guard down.”
Shing.
Some of them clenched their fists, while others drew the swords hanging from their waists.
At that moment, Hardin began twirling his fist in the air and spoke.
“You guys ready?”
“Ready?”
“I’m about to beat you properly, so keep your wits about you. If you die because you slip up... my bounty will go up in smoke.”
“What nonsense is that?”
“You cocky brat...”
The bandits all showed openly irritated expressions—
‘Let’s go.’
Dash!
Hardin, who had been slowly loosening up, suddenly shot forward in an instant.
His target: the big guy standing opposite him.
“Uraaaah!”
The man swung his club with all his might as Hardin charged.
Vwoooom!
Hardin ducked low, slipping inside in a blink.
“Opening!”
Smack!
“Guheh!”
He swung his foot straight up, kicking the man square in his precious parts.
“...?!”
A collective expression of shared pain spread across all their faces.
While the big guy staggered back, clutching his belly—
Hardin waved his hand lightly.
“Ah, my bad. That wasn’t intentional.”
“You son of a bitch!”
“Get him!”
Rough shouts exploded through the hideout.
Smack! Smack!
“Grab him from behind!”
“Aaaagh! Sh-shit!”
Screams and curses blended together in a constant uproar.
How long had this chaos gone on—tens of minutes?
“Ghhhhh...”
“My mana, my mana won’t come out...!”
“You bastard... what the hell did you...!”
Around a dozen bandits lay curled up on the floor like shrimp, rolling around.
One was foaming at the mouth, another had the whites of his eyes showing—
A colorful spectacle, entertaining to behold.
And in the middle of them—
“Huff, huff, huff...”
Hardin stood, face pale, drenched in sweat, gasping ragged breaths.
‘Damn... this was more tiring than I thought.’
Even if he generously conceded that it wasn’t impossible for bandits to be mana users—
Still...
‘Why the hell are these bastards so tough?’
[Get around behind that bastard!]
[Aaaaagh!]
[Get up, get up!]
Their swordsmanship was lousy, and their movements weren’t much different from any random brawl.
Naturally, he’d thought they’d be nothing special...
Yet no matter how much he beat them down, they kept charging in.
Even when they got hit, they clenched their teeth and stood back up.
It felt like fighting a horde of zombies.
“Cough! Cough! Huuh...”
Because of that, a good chunk of his mana was already spent, and his frail body had started dripping nosebleeds again.
Hardin roughly wiped the blood with his sleeve and slowly lifted his head.
Standing there with an awkward smile was the last survivor—Mikkelsen.
“Mikkelsen.”
“...Y-yes?”
“You were pretty quick to tattle earlier, weren’t you?”
“W-What are you talking about?”
“‘Brothers! Please kill that bastard! He hit me in the back of the head!’...That’s what you said.”
“N-No, that was—”
Hardin mimicked Mikkelsen’s voice, then curled his lips up in a faint smile.
“All right, it’s time for your punishment.”
Step. Step.
As he walked forward, Mikkelsen backed away just as much.
“W-Wait a moment! I know you’re angry, but let’s calm down and think this through rationally!”
Cold sweat trickled down his forehead in streams.
What the hell was that man? All his brothers were first-class mana users, at least Expert level...
Yet why couldn’t they beat just one guy?
Was this...even a situation that made sense?
He’d even sealed everyone’s mana, just like he did to him, leaving them no chance of victory.
‘...Is he a ghost? A monster? An evil spirit?’
What in the world was he?
Because he couldn’t make sense of what was happening before his eyes, all kinds of wild thoughts rose and scattered in his mind.
“P-Please spare me! I swear I didn’t mean to do that on purpose!”
Grab!
Hardin seized him by the collar and lifted him up, a murderous look on his face as he asked—
“Enough nonsense. Are there any more of you here?”
“A-Are there... more?”
“That’s right. Are these all the ones I beat down?”
“Ah, that is...”
Mikkelsen blinked, forcing an awkward smile.
As he darted his eyes toward the hideout, he caught a glimpse of a dark shadow peeking out from behind a window before quickly disappearing.
‘Damn it...’
Gulp.
Mikkelsen swallowed hard and shook his head.
“N-No! There’s no one! Nothing at all!”
“If you’re lying, you’re dead.”
Creeeak!
Hardin flashed a chilling grin, his gaze turning cold as ice.
“Hiiiek!”
Mikkelsen’s face went white.
Yet even then, his eyes flickered toward the hideout.
Whoosh!
At that moment, the shadow that had been peeking out the window hurriedly ducked out of sight again.
‘Please...please, those guys can’t be discovered.’
He had to keep that from happening, no matter what.
A desperate look took over Mikkelsen’s face.