Chapter 12: Quest 6: Defeat the Bandits [Part 2]
Several hours later, Makoto and Yuka were walking along the river.
They had not found a single human.
Not even a trace.
A situation with no clear end usually stirred anxiety.
Yet he felt none.
For some reason, he felt like things would work out.
It was probably thanks to his stats.
Despite maintaining a brisk pace, he felt no fatigue.
Physical leeway translated into mental leeway.
—!
He stopped.
He thought he heard something.
“Why’d you suddenly stop?”
“Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Guess it was nothing.”
He had thought he was fine.
But hearing things meant he might be worse off than he realized.
Come to think of it, ever since waking up in the dungeon, it had been nonstop fighting.
It would not be strange if he were mentally strained.
“Maybe we should rest early today.”
“Haa, camping out again.”
They resumed walking along the river.
Then—
—!
“I heard it again.”
“I didn’t.”
“Wait.”
Makoto closed his eyes and focused.
—! —!
“…It’s not a voice. It’s like it’s echoing inside my head.”
“Like the Voice of the Messenger?”
“Not words. More like… I can feel the emotion. Hard to explain.”
He scratched his head.
Like being shouted at in a foreign language.
He could not understand the words, but he grasped the feelings.
“But they’re fighting.”
“Not just arguing, right?”
Yuka frowned.
She probably did not want to get dragged into trouble.
“Can you tell which direction?”
“Yeah. That way.”
He opened his eyes and pointed ahead.
“What do we do?”
“For now, we check it out. We’ve got no better leads.”
“What if they’re killing each other?”
“We hide and observe. If we can handle it and tell who’s good or bad, we help the good side.”
“And if we can’t tell?”
“We wait until it’s over and follow whoever survives.”
“Hmm.”
She frowned.
“That’s pretty reckless.”
“I’ve been winging it since I woke up in that dungeon.”
“Fair enough.”
She shrugged lightly.
Makoto broke into a run.
This is crazy, he thought as he ran through the forest.
He felt like he was jogging lightly, yet the scenery flew past.
It reminded him of riding a motorcycle once.
The exhilaration of wind against his face and speed no human body could produce.
Yet he was not even winded.
If he wanted, he could go faster.
And his senses were sharper.
He could tell what lay ahead.
He avoided protruding branches with ease.
—! —!
“Will I make it?”
The sound was fading.
The battle must be nearing its end.
Still, they would not withdraw immediately after finishing.
“I’m too soft.”
If it was good people being attacked—women, children—he wanted to help.
He increased his speed.
The forest ended.
His view opened.
A highway.
Despite cutting through forest, it was wide and paved.
On a sunny day, it would be pleasant.
Today was sunny.
But not now.
Corpses lay scattered.
The air reeked of blood.
A covered carriage stood nearby.
Two swordsmen in matching uniforms defended it against roughly ten ragged men.
The ragged men lacked coordination.
Their levels must be low.
Most corpses wore rags.
“…Alright.”
Makoto hid behind a tree and observed.
One swordsman was a blonde woman with short, boyish hair and a slim build.
The other was a bearded man with brown hair and eyes.
He looked injured.
The ragged men’s weapons were mismatched.
Their only common trait was looking filthy.
“Hey, don’t leave me behind.”
“Hide.”
“I know.”
Yuka crouched beside him.
Slightly winded, but fine.
“So?”
“Bandits attacking a carriage.”
“Are we helping?”
“I was waiting for you. Check their stats.”
“Fine.”
She peeked out.
“The ragged ones are killers. Around Level 5. One’s Level 8. The two in uniform are Level 15 and Level 12.”
“Even with that gap, they’re struggling?”
“They can fight that many because of the gap.”
She sounded exasperated.
“How do we help?”
“Blow them away with magic.”
“You want me to kill people?”
“They’re murderers.”
“…I don’t want to kill.”
She looked troubled.
“Yeah. Makes sense. I’ll go.”
“Good luck.”
“Let me borrow your scarf.”
“What for?”
She handed it over.
He folded it and covered the lower half of his face.
“I don’t want retaliation.”
“Then kill them all.”
“You just said you don’t want to kill!”
“I don’t want blood on my hands!”
“Neither do I!”
Even if they were bandits, he did not want to kill.
“If we wound them badly, maybe they’ll run?”
“They’ve already lost half and haven’t run.”
“Yeah.”
He sighed.
“I’ll distract them.”
“How?”
“I’ll stand on that rock and laugh like a villain.”
“…Laugh.”
“They’ll look.”
“And then?”
“You blast them while they’re focused on me.”
“That’s dangerous for me!”
“If we kill them all, it’s fine.”
“I said I don’t want to kill! Go already!”
“Fine.”
He stepped out.
The female swordswoman was being forced down.
The other swordsman was gone.
She was restrained.
One bandit approached, dropping his trousers.
He was about to rape her.
“Hold it!”
Makoto shouted.
They froze.
“There!”
“Who the hell are you?”
The man yanked up his trousers.
Makoto had no clever line.
“No need to give my name to scum like you!”
“Kill him!”
“I’ll gut you!”
One charged alone.
No teamwork.
“Die!”
The blade aimed for his neck.
Slow.
Almost comically slow.
Makoto stepped in, reconsidered, stepped aside instead.
The blade passed.
He grabbed the man’s wrist.
He twisted.
Planned to knee him.
But the body lifted.
So he smashed him into a tree.
The trunk shook violently.
Leaves and caterpillars fell.
He released him.
The man collapsed.
His skull was flattened halfway.
He would not survive.
“…Huh.”
Makoto looked at his hand.
He had killed someone.
Not intentionally.
Yet he felt nothing.
“So that’s it.”
Cold.
Like crushing a bug.
“You bastard! Ricky!”
Another swung.
He dodged lightly.
Punched his side.
The man vomited blood.
Collapsed.
Struggling.
Makoto lifted his foot.
Stopped.
He would die anyway.
“…Heh.”
He exhaled.
He kicked another’s thigh.
It bent inward with a dull crack.
“W-Wait—!”
Makoto swung.
The man flipped midair and hit the ground headfirst.
“…Ignition.”
Black flames burst from his arm.
The bandits murmured.
“…Fire Bullet.”
His eyes widened.
This time, the flame separated and condensed independently.
It formed a marble-sized black sphere.
“Small.”
He tossed it casually.
It shot like an arrow.
It struck a man’s chest.
Flash.
A pillar of fire.
“Gyaaah!”
He screamed.
“Roll! Roll!”
“It won’t go out!”
He rolled.
His body crumbled as he burned.
He collapsed into ash.
Silence fell.
“You could still run.”
Makoto advised.