CHAPTER 290

"Request, I will request you!"

The rain had stopped, but the damp air lingered. Every morning, waking up was an unpleasant experience due to the sticky, humid sweat.

That unpleasantness only grew worse by midday.

When the sun rose overhead, the humidity increased, adding a subtle warmth to the mix.

Under the clammy noon sun, with the discomfort, sweat, and heavy, sticky air, the Village Chief urgently shouted.

"I will give you anything you want!"

The bandit who appeared to be the leader snorted and sneered.

It was as if he was daring them to try and fight.

The mercenary leader remained silent, and the Village Chief's face twisted in despair. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Please."

Some of the nervous villagers looked at the mercenaries with desperate eyes.

Still, there was no response.

The leader hummed briefly, as if in thought.

'Are they not going to take it?'

Encrid's gaze also turned to the leader.

The original task had been completed that morning, and the mercenaries were just about to leave.

At that moment, one of the sharp-eyed mercenaries noticed the presence of an observer and captured a bandit who had been scouting.

Without the need for interrogation, the bandit revealed the location and number of his group.

They weren't well-known bandits, but they had a lot of men.

Roughly more than a hundred.

Even if you combined all the villagers and mercenaries, they barely had over thirty fighters.

They were outnumbered more than two to one.

The mercenary leader pondered.

"Mercenaries are people who sell their swords for gold. We don't fight without a contract. This isn't a contract, it's a rescue mission. We don't have that kind of loyalty."

He was a decent person, considering he was a mercenary.

From the mercenary leader's perspective, it was the right choice.

There was no reason to risk their lives in a fight.

"Wise decision."

The bandit leader let out a sigh of relief, albeit quietly.

Why wouldn't he?

If the mercenaries had decided to fight, the bandits would have had to accept some losses.

No matter how well they fought, more than ten of them would die.

No, more than twenty would die.

The mercenary leader seemed like a skilled fighter as well.

Even if they won, the damage would be significant.

If it weren't for that, they would have already wiped them out.

If the scout hadn't been caught, they would have waited until the mercenaries left before attacking.

"Let him go."

At the leader's command, one of the mercenaries released the captured bandit.

"What kind of justice is this?"

"They're going to kill us all!"

"Please!"

"Why!"

"We'll give you everything we have! We even have jewels!"

The villagers cried out. One of them even tried to grab the mercenary's leg, but it was no use.

Whack!

"Come closer and I'll cut you down."

One of the mercenaries said in a deadly tone, showing no hesitation in his threat.

In fact, the mercenaries had shown their loyalty simply by not siding with the bandits to share the village's wealth.

The mercenary leader was wise.

"Enough. If you approach us, we'll draw our weapons too. Everyone, back off."

The leader quickly brought the situation under control.

He ordered the mercenaries to withdraw to one side, while the bandits watched them intently.

Encrid was caught in the middle.

He was also a member of the mercenary group, so he could have walked away. But as he turned his gaze indifferently, he noticed a bold little girl.

In three years, she would leave the village to become an herbalist, an absurdly fearless little girl.

"Let's go, mister."

How bold she was.

Even in a situation where she should be begging for her life, her eyes were scanning the surroundings, and in the midst of that, she waved at him, showing the back of her hand.

Her face was not one of resignation. She must have been thinking of how to escape.

Encrid had faced many bandits before. He was not inexperienced. So he knew.

They would all die. Adding his hand to the fight wouldn't change anything. Should he then refrain from helping?

Should he also turn his back and walk away?

Should he abandon what he had sought to protect?

What is a Knight?

'What was it that I wanted?'

'What if I turn back now? What if I ignore this?'

'I won't be able to do anything.'

How many times have he just watched because he wasn't strong enough?

Should he do the same this time?

He doesn't know. He've turned a blind eye before, knowing full well what was happening, so why does this time feel like a weight on his chest?

"Hey, let's go."

One of the mercenaries patted him on the shoulder from behind. He had a rough demeanor, but he was a kind-hearted friend.

He was the kind of guy who would help the villagers with their chores in the meantime.

But he didn't hesitate to turn around. That's the basic mindset of a swordsman surviving on this continent.

Few people seek out places to die. Anyone who knowingly walks into their death is a fool.

Especially if it's not for gold, but for some naive sense of protecting the weak.

'I'd probably be called crazy.'

He knew that even without being told.

Yet, despite that, he couldn't turn his back.

If he took a step back here, if he ignored this, he felt like he'd never be able to move forward again.

He felt it in his bones.

"Hey."

Have he survived this long because the Goddess of luck took pity on him?

But he doesn't think he's ever received a kiss from her, has he?

If she was going to bless him, she could have given him a lot more luck.

What a ridiculous thought.

Drip, drip, whoosh.

The rain started pouring down again.

"Enki, you bastard."

The mercenary leader was angry.

What he said next stuck with him for a long time.

"They won't kill them. Even if we leave them, they won't die. Why would they kill such a large group? What would they gain by killing them? Are they perverts? They won't kill them. They'll probably just sell them to slavers. Being a slave would be better for them anyway!"

Life in the swamp village wasn't exactly abundant, aside from the fact that they were alive.

But he couldn't say being a slave would be better.

"I was going to take you into our mercenary group, you idiot."

The leader backed off.

There was no other choice. He wasn't someone he could drag along by beating him up, nor was it worth meddling that much.

Moreover, Encrid was just a guide who could swing a sword, not some extraordinary talent.

He was just a fool, a fool who couldn't see an inch ahead.

"Why?"

The Village Chief asked with eyes full of disbelief. It was so absurd that he spoke before expressing any gratitude.

"Do you see the third guy from the left of that group?"

"Uh, yes, I see him."

"That's my enemy."

In truth, it was the first time he'd ever seen him.

At the mention of an enemy, the bandit blinked. He studied Encrid's face. With a face like that, you wouldn't easily forget him.

"Are you from the mining town, by any chance?"

He didn't know what he was talking about, but he nodded.

"Shit, so someone survived from there."

It seemed these guys had been wreaking havoc in more places than just here.

If that's the case, then it wouldn't be a problem to kill them all.

Encrid might die before he managed to kill them all, but he had to steel his resolve and strengthen his determination.

"Really?"

The Village Chief whispered in his ear.

"No, it was a joke."

"...Are you crazy?"

Encrid chuckled.

Since he was going to fight anyway, what did the reason matter?

The Village Chief was so taken aback that he didn't even think to stop the departing mercenaries.

"That guy isn't our responsibility."

The mercenary leader said.

"Is he really staying behind alone?"

The bandit leader asked again.

The mercenaries withdrew.

But two of them turned back.

"Damn it, kid, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Gehr?"

"I'm staying. I can't just leave this guy behind. If things get bad, I'll have to at least help him escape."

"You bastard, if that's the case, then I should be the one staying."

"Pete, you too?"

"He's like a younger brother to me, so I'm worried."

The leader frowned. He also wanted to stay, but if they did, the whole mercenary group would be wiped out.

The leader declared that only the two could stay, and anyone else who wanted to remain would have to leave the mercenary group.

That was that.

Gehr and Pete.

The two mercenaries stayed behind.

"I'm older than you, you know?"

When Encrid mentioned this to Pete, the ugly, thick-eyed swordsman who liked children replied.

"Based on looks, I'm much older than you."

Encrid chuckled at that.

Even though they had only known Encrid for about a month, the two mercenaries couldn't bring themselves to turn away.

Encrid then drew his sword and stood in front of the bandits.

"Mister, are you crazy?"

The little girl, who would be lucky if she was sold into slavery, asked. She had noticed the way some of the bandits had been eyeing her like dogs eyeing a piece of meat.

"Have you fallen for her, kid? It's proper to watch a man's fight."

Gehr stepped forward and answered the girl's question with a quip.

"Whatever."

The girl didn't even listen.

"Halfway."

Encrid casually responded to the girl's question about his sanity and raised his sword.

It was indeed a crazy thing to do.

What would he gain from protecting these people? Nothing.

Would he receive a medal or something for this reckless behavior? Not a chance.

The Kingdom's nobles probably wouldn't even know this was happening.

They were too busy filling their own bellies.

Encrid knew about the nobles too.

What if the nearby lord were to be asked to send troops to deal with the bandits?

Even if by some chance there was a virtuous lord willing to listen, it would only be after all the villagers had already been sold into slavery, killed, or left crippled.

Besides, the local lord wasn't the kind of person who would send soldiers to hunt down bandits whose whereabouts were unknown.

In conclusion, if they left, everyone would die. No one else would step in if Encrid didn't.

"We can sell that one too. She's a pretty one."

The bandit leader looked pleased.

Encrid fought back with everything he had.

He managed to cut down three of them, but on the fourth, he was struck in the head by a club, causing him to lose his balance.

Gehr and Pete fought like madmen too. Gehr swung his axe with great force, while Pete thrust his long spear, piercing several bandits.

"If you don't want to get captured, get your act together!"

The Village Chief shouted bravely.

But soon after, a throwing axe struck him in the head, killing him.

Still, they fought on.

Some of the villagers took up weapons. They charged with long poles and swung axes meant for chopping wood.

"Throw!"

The little girl, who dreamed of becoming an herbalist, also played her part. Along with children younger or slightly older than her, she picked up stones and threw them.

It felt like they might have a chance. If luck was on their side, they might even get an opportunity to escape.

What if the mercenary leader had a change of heart and launched a surprise attack?

That didn't happen.

"Fire."

Thwip, thwip, thwip!

Ten archers fired, and Pete was killed by a single unlucky arrow that pierced his throat.

"Grrr..."

Because of that, he never got to hear Pete's final words.

Gehr and Pete—did they not know they were going to die? They knew, but they still hoped for a reversal.

Gehr even had a plan.

He had said that if he saw an opening just before the fight, he would take the bandit leader hostage.

Gehr was known for never losing in one-on-one combat, even among the mercenaries. It seemed plausible.

Pete was quick with his hands and feet, darting around like lightning in battle.

One would distract while the other captured the leader. That was the plan.

It failed.

The bandit leader was both strong and skilled.

When Gehr saw an opening and charged, the leader met his axe with a single sword swing.

Clang!

Sparks flew, and Gehr's face twisted in frustration.

The opponent's skill was far beyond what he had anticipated.

"Shit."

Gehr despaired. Pete, after holding out as long as he could, was struck in the neck by an arrow and went down first, snuffing out the last of their hope.

"You bastards!"

Gehr made a final, desperate charge.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The bandit leader was not caught off guard.

He remained calm, directing his men to close in and maintained the encirclement.

There was no escape.

In the end, it happened just like that.

Gehr's head was severed by the bandit leader's sword.

"Did you really think you could win? What were you hoping to accomplish?"

Encrid resisted until the end, but the leader choked him with his bare hands.

He saw his sword, which had somehow slipped from his grip, lying in the muddy ground.

He also noticed the little girl, who had fought until the end, her head smashed and blood pouring out.

"She's dead too."

Encrid's mouth opened involuntarily, and the leader, following his gaze, responded.

"She put up quite a fight. She bit and struggled even at the slightest touch."

The bandit's tone was nonchalant. It was a world of kill or be killed. This was just how things were.