The Randy Canyon doesn’t have many villages. The village where the bandits resided was one of those few, but now it lay in complete ruins due to the emergence of bloodworms.
As such, it appeared desolate from the outside, and intact buildings within the village were rare. It wasn’t easy to tell what had changed just by looking from afar.
However, Aslan sensed it. The presence and unease felt from high up within the clouds conveyed a chilling sensation that ran down his spine.
Finally, when they entered the village, the scene before them confirmed both the premonitions of fortune and Aslan’s predictions.
“Stop it, stop it! Fire!”
“Aaaah, it’s hot, too hot!”
“Get lost, you bastard! Don’t stick to me!”
Fire erupted everywhere, and the bandits who started the fire were themselves burning. There were also sights of people screaming as they disappeared, having been grabbed by those fully infected and turned into hosts.
Amidst the chaos, people were dying, killing, and struggling in any way they could. Aslan saw the bloodworms and their hosts striding confidently through the commotion.
Even those who had been forewarned about such a scenario frowned at the sight. Angie covered her mouth, disturbed by the burning smell, while Ereta wore an expression as if missing something.
“Shit….”
“It’s burning well.”
Angie made a face of disgust at Ereta’s response, yet Aslan couldn’t help but agree with her words. The surroundings were engulfed in flames, and the entire village was collapsing.
Whoever set the fire, the blaze had encircled one side of the village, trapping the bandits who were being devoured by the bloodworms.
‘Was it Phey?’
Ordinary elves don’t start fires, but Phey might be different. Aslan was confident in this thought and heard Dmitry make an “Oh” sound as he looked around.
When he turned his gaze, the pot-bellied bandit leader was running towards them.
“D-Dmitry! You son of a bitch, why so late….”
“I was delayed with work, you pig. So, is this all your crew?”
“Yeah, this is fucking all that’s left! The rest are all dead!”
With fury in his voice, the leader gestured behind him where only five starving and ragged bandits remained. The rest had either been killed by the bloodworms…
“What about the elf? You called them merchandise.”
“Fuck, that damn monster showed up and took them all! Every last one!”
They must have been killed by Phey.
Aslan thought this while narrowing his eyes. At the time when the bloodworms were rampaging, it was certain that those watching over the elves would have been killed and removed.
‘Maybe they’re still watching right now.’
As Aslan scanned the area, he could see nothing. Nothing was detectable even through fortune at level 8; it wasn’t enough to find Phey.
Aslan quickly gave up on the search and suggested to the leader,
“Let’s retreat for now. If we head to the mine tunnel in the front ravine, we might be able to shake them off. The tunnels are interconnected.”
“Mine, mine? But the mother of the herd…”
“The mother has been hunted. You hired Dmitry yourself, so if you don’t believe me, ask him.”
When the leader’s gaze turned to Dmitry, he nodded with his usual smile.
“Yeah, then, let’s go there. Please.”
There were bound to be strange points, but the bandit leader was too hungry and desperate to think about them.
The extreme situation didn’t allow the leader to maintain calm thinking ability.
He bit the bait and followed Aslan, who led the group toward the canyon where the mine was located.
Behind them, naturally, the bloodworms and their hosts chased after them. During the prolonged pursuit, attacks came several times.
A host leapt down from a tree, grabbing a bandit by the neck and hanging on, injecting bloodworms into their mouth. The bloodworms surged into the throat, devouring flesh as they occupied the heart.
“Keeuuuuh, Ahh, Leader, Leaader!”
Thus, one bandit fell, and the group moved further away. The bandit screamed pitifully, his cries filled with the plea not to be abandoned, until he faded away, turning into a host.
Aslan ran while hearing these fading screams. He drew his weapon and swung it at the bloodworms rushing in a diagonal line. The severed worm tumbled on the ground.
It was impossible to protect everyone from the start, and there was no reason to do so. Aslan pretended to protect them to avoid suspicion as he led them on.
In this way, the number of bandits gradually decreased on the way to the mine.
Being dragged away, attacked by hosts nearby and becoming infected, or instantly devoured by the swarm of bloodworms.
Amid countless deaths, the pot-bellied bandit leader panted heavily as he ran, driven solely by the desire to survive.
Finally, when that desire bore fruit, they arrived at the entrance to the mine.
The mine stood against the forest.
Aslan pulled the double-handed axe hanging from Angie’s back and shouted,
“Everyone inside!”
“Yes.”
Ereta responded calmly, and the group rushed into the mine. Aslan detached his gaze from those passing by and gripped the axe firmly as he watched the approaching bloodworms.
‘Shadow Reversal.’
The moment the shadow wavering beneath his feet disappeared, the tree next to the mine entrance was cut down with two slashes.
Pakgak!
And the tree tilted.
Gigigiik, Kooong!
As the tilting tree struck the entrance of the mine, Aslan dashed inside.
Kurrrr, Kuguguung!
The collapsed mine entrance settled down with heaps of dirt. The sunlight seeping through the collapsed entrance illuminated the interior of the mine with a similar degree of light.
“Did… did I survive… barely alone…?”
Silence descended. Aside from the subtle sounds of falling dirt, there was only the sound of labored breathing calming down.
At the center of this silence, the bandit leader clutched his head and sighed in despair.
“All dead… only me… .”
Indeed, as the leader said, only Dmitry, the leader himself, and Aslan’s group remained inside the mine.
Kuung!
“Hiiik!”
What doused the leader’s quiet despair was a bloodworm host.
Though blocked by the fallen dirt, the infected bandits were striking the barrier trying to dig through.
It was as if they were determined to drag the leader inside from the netherworld.
Likewise, the leader seemed to think so. Upon seeing the faint shadows outside, his jaw trembled as he rose and grabbed Dmitry by the collar.
“You little… all because of you. You incompetent bastard! Because of you, the elves died, my men all perished! Shit, me too, me too…”
Clearly venting his anger, Dmitry merely smirked slightly with an air of boredom and didn’t respond.
Without a reply, the leader clenched his teeth and shook with rage before letting go of the collar.
The next target was Aslan.
Seeing Aslan leisurely adjusting his leather flask, the leader approached and shouted,
“You too! You said capturing the mother would solve everything! You talked about investment, and look how things turned out?!”
“That’s correct.”
Aslan replied coldly. Somehow, the leader became enraged at his calm demeanor.
“What the hell is this?! Nothing got resolved! Nothing! Rather…”
“Let me correct one thing first.”
Aslan threw the leather flask, which Ereta caught and adjusted her own neck with a strangely excited expression.
“The elves aren’t dead. They’ve just been taken away. So, my investment has paid off well.”
“…What?”
The leader wore an expression of confusion, his widened pupils reflecting Aslan’s cold gaze, stirring emotions that prompted him to extend his hand.
“What do you mean by that, you little…!”
Aslan grabbed the hand reaching for his collar. The hand trembling before touching the collar quivered violently.
Aslan’s icy green eyes met the leader’s despair-filled ones.
“My investment was the veteran swordsman, Phey. Not you. The investment capital included you, all the slave merchants, the bloodworms… and the elves safely retrieved.”
Suddenly, the name of the veteran swordsman, Phey, emerged. The leader blinked, recalling some rumor.
The veteran swordsman that slave merchants dealing in elves didn’t want to encounter.
The rumor that the veteran swordsman was an elf herself.
Aslan smiled faintly as he noticed the confusion spreading across the leader’s eyes.
“The captain of the Thorn Mercenary Group, Thorn Torek. I wouldn’t fail to recognize you, would I?”
Torek, the mercenary group captain, widened his eyes upon hearing his name.
In those wide eyes, he saw Aslan’s companions standing quietly despite the bizarre turn of events.
Their calmness was like knowing the situation already.
“From the very beginning…!”
“I remember quite a number of people you sold into slavery, along with the families of those slaves you killed to achieve that.”
“You… how…?”
“Did it feel good deceiving them and fitting them with thorn shackles?”
“How, how did you know?”
The strength drained from the hand attempting to grab his collar, and as he tried to step back, Aslan didn’t release his wrist.
Instead, with a gentle smile, he smoothly drew his sword.
A blade carved from stone. Sepsis.
Sepsis consumed life.
The surface of the stone blade piercing the heart was excessively rough, causing excruciating pain.
“Geck…”
But there was no time to feel the pain. Aslan twisted the blade and pushed the gripping hand away as he pulled it out, causing Torek to fall with a thud.
Blood gushed from the heart. Blood spread at the corner of Torek’s mouth, overflowing with the life that Sepsis hadn’t managed to consume.
Aslan watched silently as he wiped the blade clean.
“I’ve kept track of trash like you. Since twelve years ago.”
As Torek’s dimming eyes turned towards Aslan, Aslan added,
“I lack the qualification to punish evildoers. But you tried to kill me. That’s why you’ve ended up like this.”
Upon hearing these words, Torek moved only his index finger before dying. The limp corpse ceased to breathe.
Dmitry observed the entire process and conversation with a blank, emotionless gaze.
Kung, Kung.
Outside, the hosts infected by bloodworms were pounding on the barrier blocking the mine entrance.
The sound resembled rain. To Dmitry, it was a familiar sound, one he heard every time he fell asleep in dreams.
After staring at Aslan for a long time, the middle-aged man sighed.
“The employer is dead, everything we were supposed to protect is gone, and the goods have left… the contract failed, alas. Regrettable.”
Aslan didn’t return the sword to his waist but stared at Dmitry.
“No thoughts of revenge?”
“Revenge?”
Dmitry instead waved his hand dismissively as if finding it absurd.
“Why should I do that? I don’t mix personal feelings with work. Failure is failure, and if the employer dies, they die. Why should I risk my life for trivial matters unless my life is immediately threatened? I won’t fight over such things.”
It sounded like he wouldn’t fight. However, contrary to such words, a smile spread across Dmitry’s face.
“Normally, I should just go back as it is. But… honestly, I don’t think I can return unscathed when facing something like them.”
Beyond Dmitry’s nodding gesture, the sound of pounding on the barrier could be heard.
It was the sound of swarming hosts chasing human traces to consume nutrients.
Swish
Seeing Aslan’s gaze heading towards the mine exit, Dmitry deliberately drew his sword loudly.
It was his beloved red-glowing sword.
“So, here’s a question: Do you still not intend to fight to the death with me?”
“No.”
As Angie moved as if to step forward, Ereta stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. Angie made an uncomfortable expression and had to watch the situation.
“Didn’t you kill the boar because it tried to kill you? And haven’t I always been like that? Am I not safe?”
“Because you’ve never truly intended to kill me.”
As Aslan and Dmitry exchanged words, the only other sounds were the breathing of the two women and the pounding from outside.
“Many priests, gods, humans wanted to kill me. There were also several monsters. The killing intent I felt each time… you lacked it. You only spoke of killing me. Even during fights.”
Aslan’s cold analysis. Dmitry stroked his chin. His brown beard scratched his hand.
“We fought seven times. In all seven, I detected no killing intent in you. It was all about your upward aspiration.”
Hearing this, Dmitry whistled. An admiring whistle.
Aslan, who observed him impassively, almost lacked hostility. Though he lowered his sword, that was all.
“…If I were a monster or a priest? Would you not kill me just because of the lack of killing intent?”
“No, I would definitely kill a priest. For monsters, I’d observe first, but most likely I’d kill them.”
Aslan’s calm answer. Dmitry rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s what I expected. Someone who’s killed hundreds of priests would naturally act that way.”
Dmitry chuckled softly. It was a bitter smile, different from his usual smirks, somewhat melancholic.
He rested his hand on the hilt and tapped it gently.
“…All this time, I’ve been killing people, and now I hear that I lack killing intent. Never imagined that.”
“People can take lives without killing intent. Rare, but it happens.”
“Like the elf outside?”
Dmitry nodded towards the outside as he replied.
Aslan nodded in agreement instead of answering.
Such a person without empathy could do that.
Dmitry rolled his eyes at this non-answer. Aslan observed the former veteran swordsman and spoke.
“The threat outside, if we join forces with Phey, we can sufficiently suppress it. Then you can return unharmed. Then…”
“No.”
Dmitry, who had been looking at the ceiling, interrupted and pulled something out from his coat.
It was a pouch. A pouch made from the stomach of some creature. Sturdy and tough, it resisted tearing despite the movement inside.
Its restless form was constantly trying to burst out in all directions.
Familiar shape. Aslan frowned in disbelief as Dmitry untied the pouch.
Kiik
A bloodworm shot out from the pouch.
A bloodworm with all its legs cut off and one side of its lower jaw severed.
Dmitry picked up the bloodworm and stared at it intently.
Dmitry’s lifeless eyes met Aslan’s. There was no emotion in those pupils.
Just as Aslan was about to stop him,
Dmitry plunged the bloodworm into his chest.
“You…!”
The bloodworm gnawed at the chest, wriggling. Though slowed by the mutilations, it gradually burrowed into the chest.
Dmitry gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, and then spoke.
“If there’s a lack of killing intent and opportunity… creating one will suffice.”
I’ll become a monster for you. Dmitry’s declaration sounded like a joke. Aslan gripped his sword tightly, while Dmitry looked at Aslan with a relaxed gaze.
“After seven battles, seven losses. Each time, you weren’t serious and never intended to kill me. I, however, did.”
Dmitry held the crimson longsword with both hands. The chill spreading through the tightly gripped sword slowly numbed the pain in his chest.
Dmitry was once a farmer. That’s why he was simply called Dmitry without a surname—he had none.
His hometown was completely destroyed by priests. His family died then. That’s when he met Aslan. He witnessed Aslan fighting and defeating the priest.
Ordinarily, one might harbor hatred and a desire for revenge against the priest, but Dmitry was different.
He simply admired the priest’s strength purely.
And he envied Aslan’s martial prowess that had defeated such beauty.
He desired power.
He conformed to the logic of force, like any Geladridionian.
So he fought ceaselessly. Fighting without killing intent, yet he reached the rank of a veteran.
But eventually, he hit a wall and was overtaken by some talented elf.
However, there was unexpectedly no regret.
On the contrary, it made him happy to have more challenges.
Dmitry smiled as he looked at Aslan, one of those challenges. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.
“Strength is always the truth. I want to be the strongest in the world. By defeating you, I’ll become that much stronger!”
That smile gradually spread. It escalated into maniacal laughter. Amid the thunderous echoes in the mine, the laughter reverberated.
“The eighth battle, this will be the final one!”
A swish sound was heard as Dmitry raised his sword. The high-raised sword assumed a typical stance, but Dmitry twisted his wrist, directing the blade backward.
“Come at me with all your might, Aslan!”
Laughing wildly, Dmitry charged forward with his eerie red blade. Aslan closed his eyes tightly and muttered,
“Stupid bastard.”
Aslan’s sword flashed.
