Chapter 87
✠
The village chief of Nepiro Village, Konkil, had a lot on his mind.
Tonight was the day they had to offer “that thing” a tribute—but a serious problem had arisen.
And that problem was…
“W-what do we do, boss! We’re one offering short!”
“Aaagh! We’re almost out of time! I don’t want to die, boss!”
At this, the once warm and benevolent-looking village chief revealed his true nature.
“Shut your mouths! I told you to call me ‘Chief’ in the village!”
“S-sorry!”
In this remote, man-scarce region, Konkil’s house was packed with men.
They were elite members of the bandit group “Flying Skipping Stones.”
The remaining members were currently at a base deeper in the mountains.
The Flying Skipping Stones had never been wiped out even once and had maintained their lineage for three generations.
Thanks to that, they had grown into a force that dominated the Hegelix Mountain Range.
But now, these burly men were trembling in fear.
“We need to fill the missing offering quickly! We don’t have time!”
“Exactly! If we don’t submit it or the number is short, we’re all dead!”
“Nooo! I don’t want to die!”
“I want my mom! Waaaah!”
As crying began to spread through the room, a bearded bandit suddenly stepped forward and shouted.
“I told you from the start we should’ve moved the base! This place is cursed! We built our hideout inside a dungeon and now look at this mess!”
“Shut up, you useless bastard! This place has been passed down since the previous boss! How can we abandon it? We avoided searches and subjugations just fine until things got a little rough, and now you’re talking nonsense?!”
“This isn’t just ‘a little rough’ anymore!”
The bandit, breathing heavily, threw off his head covering. On his forehead, a wing-shaped mark glowed with a sinister red light.
It was the mark of being a slave to an S-class boss.
At first, using a vacant dungeon as a hideout had been profitable, letting them avoid pursuit.
But they did not know this: in an unclaimed dungeon left without its owner, a new master would eventually emerge.
Their nightmare began when a massive egg inside a volcanic crater hatched.
—You are now my slaves. If you don’t want your brains burned to death, offer ten young men every month.
A “month” referred to dungeon time—about one week in reality.
To survive, the Flying Skipping Stones regularly kidnapped villagers and travelers as offerings.
The fate of those men was cruel. If the dungeon’s “thing” disliked them, they were eaten on the spot. Even if they were liked, they were still subjected to horrifying humiliation.
So much so that most begged to be killed instead.
But the bandits didn’t care. They were just trying to survive.
“The weak are guilty! Who told them to be born weak? They should’ve been rich enough to buy teleport stones and cross the mountains!”
But recently, a problem had arisen. News of the kidnappings had spread, and travelers had begun to disappear from the region.
Worse, rumors spread among bandit groups that a Sword Master was sweeping through the entire mountain range, exterminating them.
After a new owner took over the dungeon, the Flying Skipping Stones had moved to a normal cave hideout.
Which meant they were now easier to find.
“We can’t get caught by that Sword Master… we need to stay low.”
Konkil felt like he was going to lose his hair from stress.
“Boss! There aren’t even any men left in the village! What are we supposed to do? If you’re the boss, take responsibility!”
A young bandit shouted at him.
Konkil was already furious. It was time to show who was in charge.
“Hey. Tie that guy up. We’ll use him to make up the missing offering.”
“What?!”
“Understood, boss! Tie him up!”
“U-mmph?! Mmmph!”
“There’s no such thing as loyalty among bandits.”
As if they had been waiting for it, the others rushed in and bound the unlucky man, loading him onto a cart behind the house.
“Phew, we’ll survive another week. Now let’s head to the hideout—huh?”
Konkil suddenly froze.
Something incredible had appeared outside the window.
“That is…!”
Shining silver hair and a face even more radiant than the light itself—an extremely handsome man was walking into the village.
Konkil shouted in delight.
“The offering! The offering came to us on its own!”
“Woohoo!”
Looking closer, it was two people—a man and a woman, both astonishingly attractive.
By Konkil’s experience in trafficking, they were premium goods.
He quickly assessed them.
“No weapons. And no priest robes either.”
“Maybe they’re mages?”
“No. If they were, they wouldn’t be crossing the Hegelix Mountains on foot.”
“Right! They probably bought teleport stones!”
“Exactly! They’re just helpless travelers!”
“Woooo!”
“Losers! Losers!”
A completely subjective and hopeful conclusion—but the bandits clapped and cheered anyway.
Konkil smiled wickedly.
“Don’t blame us. We’re just trying to survive.”
He stood up.
“Release the guy we tied up earlier. Tell him it was a joke.”
“Yes sir!”
“Boss, you’re amazing!”
“Stop calling me ‘boss’—I’m the village chief!”
He stormed outside.
Tricking travelers was his specialty.
Act like a kind rural host, invite them to stay the night, then drug their food.
Some resisted, but emotional manipulation—crying about a dead son—usually worked.
Even these two naive travelers had been easy.
They happily accepted lodging and drank the drugged honey milk.
After they fell asleep, everything had gone smoothly—until now.
Konkil approached them with a friendly smile.
“Since there’s no inn, you can stay at my house.”
They had agreed gratefully.
But as they arrived at the hideout in the mountains…
Everything came to an end.
Screeeech.
“We’re here. Everyone get off with the cargo!”
“Sure.”
“…Huh?”
A cold female voice answered.
Then—
KWA-BOOOOM!
The cart exploded, and Konkil’s body flew through the air.
“What… what is happening?!”
He crashed to the ground.
Stars flickered in his vision.
When he opened his eyes again—
Chaos.
Their carefully built hideout was destroyed. Bandits were screaming and being thrown around everywhere.
The stationed members rushed out but couldn’t even swing their weapons before being taken down.
“What… what is this…”
Then, through the dust cloud, a flash of cold white light appeared.
A sword aura.
A woman walked out calmly, as if on a stroll.
The pink-haired woman who had been asleep in the cart until moments ago.
“Thanks for the ride. You saved me the trouble of finding the hideout.”
The blade in her hand gleamed even brighter.
“Eek!”
“S-Sword Master!”
The bandits shouted in terror.
Konkil stammered.
“A-are you… the Sword Master who’s been exterminating bandits lately…?”
“Yep. That’s me.”
He immediately realized—
We’re doomed.
White sword aura flew everywhere, shaking the air.
The woman was anything but ordinary.
She was at least an Aura Expert, capable of both sword aura and blade formation.
“W-we can talk this out—ugh!”
“P-please spare us! I just did what I was told—ack!”
“You’re too weak. Swinging my sword feels pointless.”
CRASH! THUD! THUD!
Bandits who tried excuses were crushed without mercy.
“Run!”
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Those who fled were bound by a spirit-king’s harp strings and dragged back.
CRASH! THUD THUD THUD!
“Ughhh…”
Konkil, still unable to move since the initial blast, could only watch from the best seat in the house.
“Oh my god…”
Three generations of bandit legacy were being erased by a single person.
Then a shadow fell over Konkil.
“Eek?!”
Looking up, he saw a silver-haired young man standing above him.
“……”
Moonlight reflected off his hair and face, giving him a strangely holy appearance.
But for some reason…
“Ghh…!”
His deep blue eyes felt like an abyss, filling Konkil with dread.
“Shh.”
The young man—Tessilid—lowered himself and glanced toward Ailet’s blind spot.
Confirming she couldn’t see him, he reached out a hand.
“K-kugh!!”
