Karma 5_1

To the northeast of Samul Gaya stretched a vast and imposing mountain range — a natural barrier that served as the realm's impregnable frontier. At the western edge of this range lay Sunjel Garrison, a bustling border town that stood as the first line of defense against external threats.

Yet, the mountains themselves were so formidable that invasions were rare. Instead, the greatest dangers came from the wild beasts that roamed the peaks, especially during the harsh winters and early springs when food was scarce.

Hungry predators often descended upon the village, forcing the soldiers and townsfolk of Sunjel to band together for hunts. This shared struggle fostered a strong sense of community, where neighbors helped one another and self-reliance was a way of life.

That was how it had been — until five years ago, when a new sheriff named Juraki arrived. Slowly, Sunjel began to change—quietly, steadily, and then all at once.

Saji Daru could feel the rush of life coursing through his veins. He loathed to admit it, but nothing thrilled him more than hunting humans. When the noble Sheriff Juraki—ever devoted to the principles of law and order—had promoted him to Saji, the local district captain, Daru had pledged his undying loyalty. He genuinely believed he was helping to realize the sheriff's ideal world.

But that wasn't what truly satisfied him.

His satisfaction came from something else—something he had never known he craved. His first major act as Saji had been an investigation into a village head suspected of corruption. The man had once beaten Daru's parents when Daru was just a child. A few subtle threats, a little pressure, and the crimes had come pouring out. The proud elder had fallen to his knees, groveling for mercy. Daru remembered boasting to his parents—though they had scolded him for dredging up old wounds, he could still see the quiet pride in their eyes.

Then he recalled another face—a bitter old man who had once terrorized his family over a debt of rice. That man had a son he cherished, though the boy had been no better—he too had struck Daru more than once in the past. So Daru had the son arrested without cause. A few rounds of interrogation and the son confessed to crimes he never committed. The old man had come begging for his son's life, clinging to his former arrogance at first, citing past debts. But after seeing his son bloodied from beatings, he had gathered his family and knelt before Daru's parents, weeping and pleading for forgiveness.

That was the moment Daru understood the true meaning of power. The very people who had once dismissed and mocked his impoverished family now trembled before him, forcing themselves into submissive smiles, their dignity hollowed out by fear.

Daru glanced down at his uniform, admiring how well it suited him. The title of Saji was more than a position; it was a symbol of his authority. Just a few days ago, Sheriff Juraki had praised Daru and his men for their hard work, hosting a feast in their honor.

"Your strict enforcement of the law has made Sunjel a model for all of Samul Gaya," the sheriff had declared, and the men had sworn their loyalty with fervor. Daru remembered the moment Juraki clapped him on the back and hinted at a possible promotion next year.

Yes. We are the law now. We are justice.

Daru identified the criminals, conducted the investigations, and Sheriff Juraki himself delivered the verdicts.

His men were already beating a man, binding him tightly. The villagers, watching with dread, began retreating into their homes. Parents dragged curious children away, shutters slammed shut, and the once-bustling street fell eerily silent.

Daru narrowed his eyes. Hmm? Who's that?

A stranger. Someone unfamiliar. He carried two swords.

A wanderer, perhaps? Daru sneered. No matter. A few strikes, and even he'll be begging for his life, selling out his own parents. Pathetic fool.

He'd deal with the new arrival soon enough. First things first.

Chuckling under his breath, he drew the short whip from his belt and began walking forward.

A desperate cry rang out from the bloodied man.

"Daru! It's me—Harami!"

Daru tilted his head, feigning confusion. So this brat dares to speak my name so casually?

"Harami? Hmm…"

A soldier struck the man again. Harami cried out, "Please, Saji! You may not remember, but we grew up in the same village. Please, I beg you!"

Of course. Daru smirked inwardly. Everyone grows polite once the fists start flying.

He crossed his arms, pretending to think. "Ah! Harami… the seventh son from the persimmon-tree house, was it?" he said, feigning surprise. "You were always such a kind, gentle soul… What on earth could've led you to commit a serious crime like this?"

Seeing a sliver of hope, Harami pleaded, "It's a misunderstanding, Sir! I just asked about a friend — no, our friend — Sudoni. I only wanted to know where he'd gone!"

Daru shook his head slowly. "Is that so? Well, we'll sort it out at the station. Harami, you are hereby arrested for spreading malicious rumors and disturbing public order."

Harami's voice turned to anguish as he realized the fate that awaited him.

"What did I do wrong?! You act like you don't even know me… And I'm older than you, you arrogant bastard! So it was you who took Sudoni, wasn't it? Just because he hit you a few times when we were young? Is that justice?!"

Daru pressed his boot against Harami's bloodied head. "Justice?" he spat. "Funny how it's always the guilty who shout about justice."

He sneered. "Let me make sure your kind never dares to speak that sacred word again—"

Daru's words were cut short as one of his men was sent flying, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.

Daru spun around, enraged—only to freeze.

A man stood behind him, staring straight into his eyes.

That wanderer?

The stranger's voice was calm, yet unsettling. "Strange… you are really human, but why do you reek of hungry wolves?"

Daru's fury flared, but beneath it, a primal fear stirred.

"S-shut up… What would a drifter like you know?!"

He managed to speak, bolstered by the echo of his own rank. But before he could reach for his weapon, he was already on the ground, staring up at the sky. Pain radiated through his body, though he couldn't pinpoint its source. The world grew dim, and the blue sky faded to black.

Daru's soldiers lay scattered across the ground, writhing in pain and groaning in agony. At some point, though none could say exactly when, Goi had drawn his steel blade—and now, it was already sheathed once more.

Harami looked up, stunned, as the ropes that had bound him so tightly now lay severed on the ground. He staggered upright, checking himself in disbelief. There were no cuts, no wounds from Goi's blade—but the pain from the earlier beatings surged back all at once, and his knees nearly buckled beneath him.

Before he could fall, Goi caught him gently, supporting him with ease. He lowered Harami carefully to the ground again, letting him sit.

Pain pulsed through Harami's body, but what rose even more fiercely was the fire in his chest—a boiling rage he could no longer suppress.

"W-warrior... thank you. Truly… But…"

Goi pressed his palm lightly to Harami's back, and a warm energy began to flow through his body, soothing the worst of the pain. His voice was calm and kind.

"Speak freely. Whatever it is, say it."

Tears welled up in Harami's eyes.

"Please," he said, choking on his own fury, "please destroy that monster they call Sheriff Juraki. People say… they say he even devours human flesh."

Goi said nothing at first. Harami, disheartened by the silence, turned his gaze toward the distant government hall where the Sheriff resided. His shoulders sagged.

Goi slowly followed the direction of Harami's eyes.

"…Hm?" Something caught his attention, and a faint gasp escaped his lips.

Harami looked at him again, confused.

Still staring ahead, Goi asked quietly, "That building… is that where Sheriff Juraki resides?"

Harami nodded quickly.

Goi stood up without another word. He half-drew his bronze gladius, and in the shimmering surface of the blade, the Sheriff's compound came into focus—a faint reflection, but unmistakable.

He returned the gladius to its sheath with a quiet sigh.

"Good. That makes things simpler."

The presence of foulness had offered him a reason to step in.

Then, turning to Harami, his voice steady, he said, "Rest here and recover your strength. When you're able, find a safe place to hide."

Without waiting for a reply, Goi sprinted off toward the Sheriff's hall, his movements swift and purposeful.