8

It stands to reason that a previously untested Arc couldn't have trounced a whole squad just by dabbling in magic—unless he had extraordinary talent. In truth, Arc's aptitude is decent, but not phenomenal—maybe upper-average at best. He's essentially a slightly gifted nobody. 

However, he does possess massive magical reserves—among the highest in the story. In the original, that abundance of mana led to being turned into a chimera, cursed with a regeneration rune that refused to let him die. He couldn't escape eternal torment.

Poor guy.

But there was one area where Arc truly excelled: his compatibility with magical inscriptions. In the original, the regeneration rune implanted in his body had worked unnaturally well, proving how seamlessly his body synced with magic seals.

If Arc wanted a quick way to power up, all he needed was to inscribe magic circles on his own flesh—a practice referred to as "engraving." But it's a reckless endeavor, often lethal. People with low compatibility risk having the runes devour their body or mind, losing their ability to use magic, or worse, ending up an empty husk. 

Arc, on the other hand, did it with the carefree attitude of getting a tattoo. Thanks to his unusually high compatibility, he survived the ordeal. Anyone else would have died.

As a result, Arc gained enough power to easily crush the army's best fighters. Now the soldiers, too, held him in awe.

And so, the story diverged further from the original.

◇　◇　◇

She couldn't recall exactly when the thought first took hold.

It wasn't her first time losing everything, either. Her childhood village was torched. Her childhood friend was cut down and tossed in the river, and her parents were burned alive before her eyes. The villagers—every last one—were slaughtered.

She alone was spared. Even now, she didn't know why. But living while everyone else died hardly felt like salvation.

A young girl can't survive long by herself. Eventually, she was caught by bandits and endured a life of enslavement to them. Every day blurred into the next, offering no hope.

At least she was too young back then for the men to find her appealing. But that was only temporary. As her body matured against her will, the inevitable day arrived.

One of the bandits, consumed by lust, attacked her.

She stared back at him devoid of emotion, as though it were happening to someone else. She raised her eyes toward the pitch-black sky. 

A dark forest. A filthy man about to steal the last of her dignity.

All she could do was stare into the darkness and wait, until—

"Hahaha! Rejoice, bandits! Today is the anniversary of your doom! I've come bearing the grandest gift of all—your deaths!"

Suddenly, the voice of a boy—Arc—rang out through the forest.

◇　◇　◇

Recently, there'd been a surge of bandit activity in my territory. Well, maybe it's been going on for ages, but I've finally decided to do something about it. This is my domain, after all. To steal from me is to steal from *their lord,* a grave offense worthy of death.

Besides, I've gotten bored practicing magic on my own troops. I can't kill my own soldiers, so I always have to hold back. But with bandits? I can go all out! 

So I decided to round them up. When I told Lampard I was going bandit-hunting personally, he yelled:

"Absolutely not! What happens to Garm Territory if you lose your life out there?! There's no need for you to go in person, my lord!"

What an insolent fool—like I'm going to die. I'm not going alone anyway; I'll bring the soldiers. Aha! I get to drag my entire militia along on a personal joyride. The perks of being a count! 

No matter Lampard's objections, I set off to slaughter bandits.

And it was glorious.

No need to hold back. No reason to show mercy. I could do whatever I pleased. 

"Gyaaaah!" "Run for it!" "It's Arc the Lunatic!"

The forest echoed with the shrieks of bandits fleeing in terror, while I gleefully mowed them down. Bandit-hunting is the best! It's so much more exhilarating than hunting animals. 

Some of them even tried begging for their lives:

"P-Please spare us! We'll do anything!" "We'll leave your domain, so please don't kill us!"

*Hah! What pathetic little worms.*

"Listen, you maggots—do you know who I am?"

"Y-You're Count Garm, sir..."

"That's *Count Garm-sama* to you."

"C-Count Garm-sama!"

"Exactly. Then you already know your sentence, don't you? Stealing from me is a grave crime."

They gawked at me, trembling.

"But I'm a merciful soul."

"Y-you'll spare us?!"

"Huh? Save that nonsense for the afterlife."

And that's how I butchered them all, destroyed every hideout. Before long, my territory had no bandits left. Damn. Already done? How boring.

As spoils of war, I claimed the captives who'd been held by the bandits. I decided to employ them under me, paying them a pittance. I also seized a random mine they'd been using. Now that I'd grown tired of bandit-hunting, maybe I'd move on to making some sweet money from that mine!

◇　◇　◇

Sinmara.

In the original story, her appearance is minimal, yet she's a key figure: the protagonist's childhood friend. When the main characters visit Garm Territory (where Arc resides) with Lancelot, the hero stumbles across Sinmara, who he'd long presumed dead.

But by then, it's too late. Sinmara has been horribly abused by the bandits—her body and mind shattered. Though the hero is relieved to find his childhood friend alive, Sinmara dies in his arms almost immediately, relieved just to see him one last time. She leaves him traumatized—a grim, tragic episode in the original story.

But in this world, Arc unwittingly saved her life. Sinmara, free of the bandits, ended up working in Garm Territory. 

Day by day, she regained her spark under Arc's rule. Thus Arc had inadvertently prevented a major tragedy in the original story and drastically altered Sinmara's fate—yet another major scenario crash.