Chapter 036: Calamity (3)
I rolled my eyes to scan the area.
There were roughly forty people filling the table.
‘Kill them all.’
Of course, the desire for revenge was strong, but that wasn’t all.
It was also a warning to the knights who would one day hear rumors of what happened here, and a way to delay the spread of those rumors as much as possible.
‘Getting branded as a public enemy right away would be troublesome.’
That said, I had no intention of hiding forever, creating a second Firefield Village.
If that were the case, I wouldn’t have made this decision in the first place.
If you’re asking whether I had a clever plan…
Heh.
Well, I’m a swordsman, not a strategist. I act first and figure things out later.
The heavens will look after the rest.
“I’ll show you what a real sword dance is, Fred.”
“Hii, hiiiik…! W-who the hell are you!”
“The Imperials of Firefield Village, I’m taking them with me. Along with the lives of everyone here, including you.”
It’s only fair to let them know why they’re dying.
I raised my sword to the side.
“Kyaaa!”
The screams of the Imperial women standing in front of me marked the start, as the noise of commotion began to spread around.
“Uh, wait, wait! Waaait!”
It was the guy sitting at the head of the table alongside Fred.
He jumped to his feet, trying to calm the crowd, but as the uproar quieted, his own frantic shouting stood out even more.
“This damn bastard, just stay still for a second.”
He wasn’t talking to me, but I paused my steps anyway.
The guy abruptly stepped onto the table as if he were coming toward me.
Crash, crash—
The sound of plates and food being trampled echoed loudly in the silence.
His shaggy bangs covered his eyes, leaving only the lower half of his face visible, and he kept grinning even while causing a scene.
“Hoi, hoi.”
With a wave of his hand, the three trembling women rushed past me, opened the door, and fled.
I had already cut down every armed man I saw in the mansion on my way here, so they should be fine.
“Well, now, this is…”
He stood there, resting his chin and tilting his head back and forth, seemingly sizing me up.
“What a big shot we have here? You’re no ordinary guy, are you?”
I agreed. As the distance between us closed, I felt his presence.
The oppressive killing intent hit me like a wave, sending instinctive chills down my spine.
‘He’s a master.’
If I had to gauge him, he was slightly below Eugene but on par with me.
In other words, this guy was undoubtedly…
A Sword Master.
‘To think a Sword Master would show up here.’
To take on him and the rest of these guys, I’d have to risk my life.
…Things just got complicated.
“Let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Yeats. And you are?”
“Bihen Benkou. The eldest son of the Benkou family.”
“Uh… just to be sure, there’s a rumor that the ronin who caused a ruckus in Canchester was an Imperial. Is that you?”
He gestured with his chin.
I lifted mine in response.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“Oh, oh… damn.”
He rubbed his arms as if he had goosebumps, then cackled like a madman, while the murmurs around us grew louder.
“So that’s why you’re here to take the Firefield Village Imperials. Got it. Sir Fred? This is straight-up karma, isn’t it? You’ve gotta deal with it.”
“S-Sir Yeats! What do you mean…!”
“Come on! Let’s be honest, you’re the one doing bad stuff here! Taking those poor people and all.”
“Sir Yeats, please!”
“His whole reason for inviting me here today was to butter me up so I’d turn a blind eye to this crap. Ugh, ptoo!”
He spoke as if whispering to me, hand near his mouth, but his voice was loud enough for everyone to hear.
I didn’t know what kind of stunt he was pulling, but it was definitely getting on my nerves.
“Cut the nonsense and draw your sword. I don’t plan on letting a single one of you leave here alive anyway.”
“Whoa, whoa—calm down. I’ve got nothing to do with these people, I swear.”
He waved his hands gently near his chest, smirking and playing the victim.
“But unfortunately, I’ve got my position to think about. I can’t just pretend I don’t see this.”
“Get to the point.”
“Here’s a proposal. I think you’ll like it. Fred over there, he’s a top-tier Spear Expert, you know. And me, well, as you can see…”
He shrugged and whistled casually.
Tense gazes gathered around him.
“Taking on all of us at once? Even for you, that’s not gonna be easy.”
Swish.
Yeats turned with a ceremonial flourish to face Fred.
Fred’s eyes shook like a dog desperate to bolt.
“How about a formal duel between the two of you? In Imperial terms—yeah, a life-or-death duel, right?”
“…”
“If Sir Bihen wins, he gets to take the Firefield Village Imperials and leave. The rest of us, including me, won’t interfere at all. How’s that?”
He looked around as if seeking agreement from everyone, but people averted their eyes, trembling.
For me, it was a no-lose situation.
Whether I took this deal or not, I’d have to kill them all anyway; it just changed the order.
And there was one thing I hadn’t considered…
Even if I killed everyone here, if Fred had more men outside, getting all the Firefield villagers safely out of Ludglen would be a hassle.
Whether he kept his promise or not, I had nothing to lose by accepting.
“Fine.”
At my answer, both corners of his mouth stretched into a grin so wide it looked like his face might split.
It was clear he didn’t give a damn about Fred or his men’s opinions.
* * *
“Alright, attention! This duel is guaranteed to be honorable and fair by me, Yeats, the officiator. Got it, you two? Then… begin!”
Yeats, who had been standing between me and Fred, slid to the side and leaped onto the table.
He grabbed an apple from a nearby plate and munched on it, acting like a spoiled noble brat at a play.
“S-Sir Yeats, here’s the betting pool you asked for…”
“Oh, yeah. Good job. Let’s see how much we got. Heh heh.”
He rummaged through the chest handed to him by Fred’s subordinate.
His gleeful grin suddenly drooped.
“…What the hell? Are you kidding me? This is it?”
“W-Well, sir…”
“Just scrap it! You broke bastards!”
Crack—!
I turned my gaze after watching him smash the subordinate’s head with the chest.
My eyes met Fred’s as he, too, turned his head back.
He stammered.
“Y-You… have we met before?”
“No chance. Not even in a past life.”
“…Then why are you going this far? W-We could settle this with words.”
“Is that your last will?”
Thud!
Fred stumbled back a couple of steps and slammed the tip of his spear into the ground.
His face was red, as if he’d put all his strength into his gut.
“Y-You insolent Imperial—! Ignoring the grace I’ve shown the poor folk—!”
Boom!
I stomped forward with my right foot.
I didn’t bother with the intricacies of a heavy step.
‘Draw.’
With the feeling of tracing an arc.
Splurch!
The trajectory piercing Fred’s neck was vivid.
The sensation traveled from my fingertips to the crown of my head.
‘Sheathe.’
With the feeling of extinguishing a flame atop my head.
Click.
My shoulders relaxed.
The impure thrill evaporated, and a pure energy enveloped my body.
The process of refining the pleasure of slaughter was this brief.
Clap, clap, clap—
“Wooow—crazy…”
Yeats was clapping with the apple still in his mouth.
The sound of his applause was oddly grating.
His eyes happened to meet the severed head on the floor, still with its eyes open.
“Egh? Don’t stare at me, you creep.”
Thwack!
He kicked the head like a ball.
It hit the wall with an unpleasant sound.
“Tch. Useless bastard. Right? Couldn’t even last one strike.”
“…You.”
Shing—
I pointed my sword at Yeats’s throat.
A visceral disgust surged within me.
Caught off guard, Yeats raised both hands above his head.
“Disgusting. That’s enough.”
“…Ah, s-sorry. Guess you’re not on our side.”
The silence lasted only a moment.
The sound of people rising and angry shouts erupted from all directions.
“Let us wash away this disgrace!”
“We can’t let this villain leave alive!”
“Sir Yeats! Please, avenge him—!”
“This is a challenge and an insult to the Kingdom from the Empire!”
All sorts of nonsense spewed forth.
It was as if Yeats had been waiting for this moment, relishing my disgust.
Well, it was expected, so I wasn’t rattled.
As I turned my gaze back to Yeats—
“Blah, blah… so damn noisy, huh?”
His already upturned mouth stretched even wider.
An overwhelming killing intent accompanied it.
“…Vines.”
Snap—!
He flicked the fingers of the hand raised above his head, muttering softly.
‘…!’
The heat surging in my Ghost Eye came first.
Next, I hurriedly withdrew the sword I’d pointed at Yeats and drove it into the ground near my feet. It was an instinctive action I couldn’t even explain.
Thud!
Was it truly survival instinct?
The sword split the stone floor, sinking deep.
The sensation at the tip wasn’t unfamiliar. I’d felt it just moments ago.
‘Flesh?’
Suddenly, a shadow loomed overhead.
The question didn’t linger long. It was answered the moment I looked up.
It was hard to believe even as I saw it. A grotesque scene unfolded.
Crack, crack, crunch—
“Y-Ye… Yeaaats, urk!”
Trees burst through the marble floor like geysers, swallowing people whole.
One tree per person.
It was truly a garden of demonic beasts.
Crunch, crunch—
The banquet hall, chaotic until just moments ago, had become a forest of dozens of trees.
I witnessed in real-time the surreal sight of leaves sprouting from trees that had swallowed humans whole.
“Hahaha, now it’s a bit quieter.”
The people who had been raging were gone in an instant.
The phrase “life is fleeting” didn’t even cover it.
“…Huh?”
Yeats turned, tilting his head. His expression was oddly stiff, the usual smirk frozen.
He was staring at the sword I’d pulled from the ground.
I followed his gaze, rigid as well…
Blood dripped from the blade.
Drip, drip.
The silence made the sound seem louder.
Yet, the quiet was long and heavy.
“…”
Though his face was partially hidden, I felt his gaze on me, filled with bewilderment.
One corner of Yeats’s mouth twitched stiffly.
“I… uh, must’ve made a mistake? I had no intention of harming you, Sir Bihen. T-This is weird. Ha, haha…”
“Is this magic too?”
“Well… sort of…”
In the silence, we stared at each other.
Both of us were dying to ask but couldn’t bring ourselves to.
What the hell are you?
“This won’t do. You.”
I aimed my sword at Yeats.
“…What’s this about? You’re not seriously planning to fight me, are you? Ha, come on. I told you it was a misunderstanding.”
“Misunderstanding or not, how am I supposed to trust you after seeing this?”
“Then don’t trust me—trust the promise we made earlier. How’s that?”
He pointed emphatically at his feet with his index finger.
“You’re in Conwell! Follow Conwell’s laws. I, Yeats, am a knight of Conwell. A knight who values honor.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Honor, from you? It’s like a thief preaching conscience. Is shamelessness a basic trait for Kingdom knights?”
“…You’ll find out in time, won’t you?”
He gritted his teeth as he answered.
At the same time, I felt a twinge of curiosity.
What was his motive for enduring such blatant insults?
He continued, wearing a strange smile.
“My men are waiting outside the mansion. Regular Conwell troops, mind you. They’re no pushovers, those guys. Can you handle them?”
“Bring it on. Call them now.”
“No, no. I’ve got pride, you know. How could I let a group gang up on one guy? That won’t do. We’d need to even the numbers—include the Imperials. How’s that? Sound fair?”
He was threatening to take the Firefield villagers hostage.
Honor, my ass. Typical.