CHAPTER 274

"It doesn't seem like it will be a problem." 

Finn replied. From the way things were unfolding, it seemed like things were getting complicated, but would it really be a problem? Probably not.

Who had come along with them?

It was Encrid and Jaxon, wasn't it?

With Encrid's brute swordsmanship, it felt like he could just slice through half of these bandits.

What kind of loyalty would a band of bandits have to just stand by and watch that?

Half of them would probably run away while watching.

Dangerous?

Probably not. Finn could see how the crowd, especially the bandits, would react. It was predictable.

In the worst-case scenario, even if every single one of them decided to attack, there was still Encrid.

He wouldn't just sit back and let himself get beaten.

"I smell magic."

The Fairy, Sinar, spoke. Her senses were sharp.

Finn frowned.

A wizard, huh? That could be a bit troublesome.

It was hard to predict how that variable would play out.

Even so...

'Doesn't seem like we'd get beaten.'

Especially since Encrid wasn't alone.

Finn had experience living within the Madmen Platoon. She knew that Jaxon wasn't ordinary either.

That's why she said what she did.

"That's that, but it seems like they're paying less attention to us."

Her intention was to let them handle their own business while they focused on their own.

Her eyes swept across the village center. It was the place where Encrid was causing a commotion. There was a spot, visible even in the dark night thanks to the torches that lit it up. It was the village's central square.

She could see people, specifically bandits, gathering one by one.

"Exactly."

"We should probably investigate what we need to first, right?"

Finn thought to herself. No matter how dangerous, it was Encrid. He knew how to get himself out of trouble.

Sinar also nodded.

There was one problem, but she understood what had to be prioritized.

The village center was where the bandits had dug their burrow.

Checking out what was happening inside there came first.

It was worth it. Sinar and Finn had been tracking those signs all this time.

* * *

It had only been a month since he joined this village. His name was Bond.

He had been doing mercenary work when greed suddenly took hold of him, leading him to stab a fellow in the back.

Well, it was a common story.

The greed to keep the reward all to himself.

The mistake he made was that the bastard he stabbed didn't die quietly.

The guy had a brother who was a guard for some noble.

Soon enough, Bond found himself on the run from the guards.

'Talk about rotten luck.'

He was born to a whore.

"Why don't you just go die, die!"

When he couldn't stand his mother's nagging anymore, he ran away and started drifting through the alleys behind the estate.

His life had been a mess since then.

His habit of backstabbing earned him the name 'Bond', and he transitioned into being a mercenary. But even here, he couldn't kick the habit.

He stabbed a comrade in the back, and the situation pushed him into a corner. How many places could someone like him go?

He had barely started to adapt to the Black Blade Bandits, and now this.

And the most important thing he learned during his month here was twofold.

First, if you defied the village leader, you'd be burned to death before you knew what hit you.

Second, you shouldn't mess with the guards who trailed off at the end of their sentences or the woman who used claws.

After seeing a guy's tongue get cut out for making one wrong remark, he swore he wouldn't even glance at that woman's thighs.

He avoided making eye contact with her as much as possible.

'But I recognized their faces. I needed to, to avoid them.'

Bond thought to himself that those two were the very symbols of strength that protected this village.

And now, those two symbols had truly become just that—symbols. They might as well have been treated like immovable statues.

Of course, they didn't remain in any pleasing form.

"Grrrrr."

In reality, all Bond could see was something flashing and flying around.

Among the onlookers, there were others like him, standing dazed with rusty shortswords, hammers, slingshots, blackjacks filled with sand, or spiked clubs in their hands.

Some were trying to be more proactive, throwing daggers or darts, while over ten archers with crossbows had taken their positions.

But none of them had any time to react.

"Ugh, ugh."

All eyes were on the two symbols, who were now letting out sounds that could have been screams or groans—no one could tell.

The guard who usually trailed off at the end of his sentences had been using a short spear about the length of his forearm.

He had been a mercenary before, and Bond had heard that he was quite skilled back in those days. But now, just as the spear tip seemed to meet the edge of the blade, his head was severed.

It was real. The moment the weapons touched—wait, had they even touched?—the head was cleanly cut off.

It was something Bond couldn't comprehend.

All he saw was the blade of the man with the black hair meeting the spear, and then it sliced through the other's neck.

'Shouldn't there have been a clashing sound if the weapons met?'

But no, this was the Fluid Sword Technique, the swordsmanship created by Encrid, which utterly overwhelmed the opponent.

It wasn't that the blade was soft, but that it was so sharp and deftly struck that it cut through the enemy as if they were made of nothing.

Afterward, the woman with the claws had tried to attack from behind, but something flashed from below to above, and she was split in two.

Just like that, the second symbol was divided into two bodies.

And that was the end of it.

What had just happened?

Bond had heard tales of swordsmen with ghostly skills, but this felt like something out of a dream, like he had been bewitched.

The gap in skill was so vast that it made the swordsmanship appear to be a kind of spell.

Bond's body froze.

Should he even try to fight? He'd be dead in an instant.

His instincts screamed at him to run, to get out of there right away.

"Huh?"

The crossbow-wielding archer uttered a dumbfounded exclamation.

"Move aside."

The true ruler of the village stepped forward through the band of thieves.

Bond instinctively began to retreat, but then stopped.

A woman came into view. Her name was Kaisela, a woman with curly brown hair, softly curved eyes, thick lips, and prominent breasts and hips.

Kaisela, who rested one hand on her narrow waist accentuated by her chest and hips, frowned.

This was after she had seen the two corpses.

As soon as she appeared, the monster who had split the two symbols made a sweeping gesture.

In an instant, the opponent pulled out a knife and threw it.

Of course, Bond couldn't see any of this. It was too fast.

All he could do was see the end result, skipping the entire process, and draw conclusions from it.

The blade thrown by the man thudded harmlessly against an invisible barrier.

The furrow in Kaisela's brow deepened.

Whenever that happened, villagers tended to disappear, or entire groups who had wandered into the village by chance would vanish without a trace.

If not that, then someone would end up dead.

"There's no hesitation in him."

She spoke, her voice resonating like crystal.

Beside her, the eyes of the panther began to glow a fierce blue, though Bond couldn't see that either.

Bond still didn't understand what was happening, but he knew something was about to go down.

The thought of running away had completely vanished.

He couldn't move, as if someone had glued his feet to the ground.

Kaisela's fingertip pointed directly at Encrid.

The man didn't move an inch. At least, that's how it appeared to Bond.

He just stood there with his sword in his right hand, facing Kaisela's outstretched finger.

"Strike him down."

Kaisela's voice flowed out at the same time.

Kraaack!

There was no warning, no sign.

With a deafening roar that seemed to tear the sky apart, a blue lightning bolt struck down.

It hit precisely above the man's head.

Bond couldn't see anything as his vision was filled with blinding light.

The light then pushed him back with a sudden force.

He was thrown backward by the shockwave, but there was no time to even register the sensation of floating.

No, he didn't even remember it.

When Bond regained his senses, all he could see in front of him was the dirt ground.

"Grraaahhh."

He heard a groan, or something similar, echoing in his ears.

It wasn't his own voice, but he quickly realized he was also letting out a similar sound.

Bond twisted his body halfway, struggling to get up.

He saw bodies that had been half-burned.

There were comrades who had turned into blackened husks.

'What was that? What happened?'

The pain hadn't fully registered in his body yet. The shock was that immense. The memory of the moment he was hit had been wiped out.

Bond slowly, painstakingly, began to move. He was better off than most.

His entire body wasn't burnt. The pain surged through his body only once he became aware of it, starting from his right arm.

Grit.

He unknowingly clenched his teeth.

He looked down at his right arm.

From his right arm down to his thigh, his skin was blackened, as if it had been seared and charred.

The burning pain made it difficult for him to stay conscious.

'It was lightning, lightning.'

He remembered seeing lightning strike quite close to him once when he was a child.

White fire, an invisible force of light.

The memory of that lightning's flash came to his mind.

His thoughts were still hazy. In a way, that was a blessing.

Otherwise, he would have been screaming in agony.

Just being nearby had burned most of his hair, and it felt like someone had shoved a ball of fire down his throat.

Bond blinked a few times. His eyes were still functioning.

As his mind started to clear, the pain became sharper and more overwhelming.

'Agh.'

Bond silently screamed, unable to do anything but stagger as cold sweat poured down his face.

It felt like a swarm of rats was gnawing at his flesh.

He thought he was standing, but he wasn't. He had backed away, crawling on his rear.

His back hit a wall.

The cool touch of the wall seemed to slightly ease the pain. Only then was he able to look ahead.

The distance between him and the black-haired attacker was over fifteen paces, at least from what he could gauge.

And yet, he was in this state.

What could have happened to the man who was at the center of that spell?

He must be dead. Even if he had been burned to ashes while standing, Bond wouldn't have been surprised.

Considering his own condition.

Those who had been closer had died, burnt black.

Then, Bond noticed someone who was completely unscathed.

'How?'

A new figure stood beside her.

It was a woman with long black hair and a gray robe.

She raised one hand in the air as her lips parted.

"A lightning spell, huh? Quite useful."

There was something about her tone—something akin to an adult watching a child's antics.

It was condescending, dismissive. She was mercilessly judging the opponent's level. Even while choking and gasping from the lightning strike, Bond could sense the emotion—or lack thereof—behind those words. The caster of the spell surely couldn't have missed this either.

"A madman and a madwoman."

Kaisela spoke again, moving her fingers.

Indecipherable words began to spill from her lips.

The start of a spell.

Yet Bond, for a moment, forgot his pain and couldn't tear his gaze away from the woman with the black hair.

She was a beauty with a unique charm that seemed to draw in all the attention and awareness around her.

Her black hair, whatever she had done to it, flowed like silk, her lips were red, and her eyes were blue.

She was full of mystery.

If Kaisela had a body that awakened desire, this woman had a face that inspired awe.

Even as Bond thoughtlessly admired her, he cursed himself for being so foolish to lose himself in her gaze.

Of course, he wasn't the only one.

* * *

As soon as Encrid sensed the presence of a wizard, he tensed his thighs.

Since his thrown blade had been blocked, now he would just cut her down himself.

At that moment, something fell from above at a speed impossible for a human body to follow.

As soon as he realized and felt it, his body reacted to the destructive flash.

He split time and prepared to defend, raising his arms to shield his head.

Simultaneously.

"I will."

A whisper and a murmur came from beside him.

No, to be precise, it was said before the light flashed overhead, but Encrid perceived the light first and only registered the voice afterward.

By then, Esther had already transformed into her human form, wearing a gray robe.

She had her right hand extended forward, palm open.

And that was the end of it.

Encrid's sixth sense, beyond his five ordinary senses, detected that two spells had collided.

Something similar to the invisible barrier that had blocked his dagger now shielded him from the destructive lightning before it could strike his head.

Crash!

Then the lightning struck. The impact sent the surrounding bandits flying in all directions.

Encrid watched as the invisible barrier held off the mass of light.

It was a semi-transparent barrier with a soft blue glow.

When it met the lightning, the barrier scattered the light, which shot off in all directions. The newly spawned light rays bounced away and didn't return.

The stray bolts of light burned and pierced through those nearby.

Thanks to Esther's spell, half of the lightning was blocked, and the other half was deflected.

"Vanna's Mirror?"

The opponent murmured, her eyes showing a hint of surprise.

Esther didn't even shrug.

Her attitude made it clear she didn't care in the slightest what the other woman said.

Arrogant and proud.

But it didn't seem out of place. It was as if she was naturally meant to be that way.

Encrid once again noticed the mysterious allure of Esther's appearance, but it didn't sway him in the slightest.

If he had been the type to be swayed by a woman's appearance, he wouldn't have been able to stubbornly walk his path all this time.

The opponent began chanting another spell, and Esther also muttered words that were impossible to understand.

Bzzz.

Somewhere, the sound of insects chirping began to emerge, as blue light flickered in Kaisela's hand before quickly transforming into lightning.

This time, it didn't strike from above but zigzagged forward from her fingertips.

Esther raised her hand to meet it. The lightning struck, but it was blocked by the transparent barrier and was reflected back.

The flashing light left afterimages on Bond's retina.

"Vanish!"

Kaisela shouted hastily. For some reason, blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"Tsk, tsk, child. What are you doing reversing the spell you just cast? Especially when you can't even handle the backlash of the mana?"

Kaisela's expression hardened at Esther's rebuke.

She was flustered, and understandably so.

When facing a swordsman, she never lost. This village was filled with things she had prepared.

A prepared wizard can kill a hundred and hold off a thousand.

But there was no way around it when facing a wizard of a higher rank.

This was an established fact.

Kaisela glared at the woman who had suddenly appeared—no, at the woman who had transformed from a panther.

"Who are you?"

Esther did not reveal her name.

She simply looked down on her opponent. And she had every right to do so.

There was at least a three-tier difference between Esther's magical world and that of the curly-haired woman.

"This is impossible." 

Kaisela muttered. How could such a wizard appear in this remote corner of the world?

And what could she possibly gain from being here?

Arrogance is a trait of wizards. Selfishness and narrow-mindedness, too.

Kaisela began to chant once again in words that were incomprehensible.

She was casting a spell to bring her magical world into reality.

Esther watched for a moment before taking a step forward.

She also began chanting a spell as she advanced.

All eyes were on her as she moved.

No one dared to fire a crossbow or attack her.

More than five crossbowmen had survived the lightning's impact, but they didn't move a muscle.

Encrid, too, became a spectator.

'She's got some skill.'

That was all he thought as he stood there.

He knew Esther was a wizard. But he hadn't known at what level.

Now, it seemed she was far superior to that sensuous woman named Kaisela standing before them.

That was enough.

He had never expected much from Esther, to begin with.

In truth, Encrid had never expected much from anyone around him.

He simply walked his path, and others followed because they found it fascinating.

"How dare you!"

Kaisela shouted.

Encrid couldn't understand what was happening between the two of them.

He only knew that no magic, spell, or any mystical event was occurring.

There was just a trembling in the air between them, a sign that something was happening—something invisible to the eye.

Soon, Esther stood before Kaisela.

Kaisela was taller, and her voluptuous figure made Esther's body seem slender in comparison.

However, Encrid had already seen that Esther was naked beneath her robe.

Through the slight gaps that appeared as she raised her hands, he had glimpsed everything.

Encrid's sight and senses were already exceptional, allowing him to visualize the entire picture from just a few glimpses.

Even though it was hidden, Esther's body was not inferior to her opponent's sensual figure.

"Is that all you have to show on the surface?"

Esther spoke as she stood before Kaisela.

Her tone and gaze were unmistakably dismissive of Kaisela's physique.

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