Episode 7: The Storm-Ravaged Mountain (2)
CRACK!
The sky unleashed a bolt of lightning it had been holding back.
Beneath the flashing glare, shadowed faces evoked living demons.
Having already lost four men and completely deflated, the bandits were busy slowly retreating.
“Ugh… this bastard's a monster! He’s just a damn ogre!”
“This crazy…!”
Their comrades lay scattered all around.
The bandits, belatedly assessing the situation, awkwardly backed away.
The once-thin drizzle grew heavier, and blood flowed from Diallo's shoulders and chest.
Yet, seeing him stand there without so much as blinking an eye, Rowokeu recalled the chivalry he had long forgotten.
‘Hmph.’
A single lion.
Like a lion with its mane fluffed to protect its pride, the man stood firm.
Even before a gun-wielding hunter, a brave lion does not retreat.
Exhaling, Rowokeu shook his head and stepped forward.
“Uh… what should I say. I had no intention of shedding blood from the start, and I figured the weak subordinates would get filtered out on their own. So, I'm not planning on blaming you?”
There was even a hint of affection in his coaxing tone.
The bandits, who had retreated all the way to Rowokeu's side by now, cautiously gauged the situation.
Compared to the brave Diallo, this sight drew a sigh from the boss.
“…….”
Diallo pulled back his right arm and extended his left.
From a wound that had seemed shallow, rainwater and tangled blood flowed.
Even the blood vessels he had sealed with thick muscle were gradually reaching their limit.
Seeing no sign of retreat, Rowokeu let out a breath.
“Hey! I'm letting you off because you're a fellow knight! You must feel disillusioned with knighthood like I did… Haah, fine. You don't even have to come under me! Just hand over the monastery and I'll let you go! What's the point of being a good senior? You reap the benefits at times like this. Right?”
The hairy man chuckled and spread his arms.
Rather than provoking or belittling Diallo, he seemed genuinely regretful.
Small scars were visible between his spread forearms, and blade marks etched up to the edge of his neck showed he had crossed the line between life and death countless times.
Of course, sparing his life and letting him go was inevitably an exceptional treatment.
How could he show respect to a man who had crushed four of his subordinates, while also letting the monk witnesses flee?
Nevertheless, Diallo didn't budge.
Only the bulging veins on his forehead throbbed fiercely.
A stubbornness that was almost brutish.
This might be both his greatest strength and weakness.
“This monastery is the home of me and my benefactor. I cannot let bandits like you occupy it!”
The bandits swallowed hard at his deep, resonant voice.
Fat raindrops pounded his forehead and the bridge of his nose, yet the man's gaze didn't waver.
Rather, this unyielding side of him must have struck terror into the bandits.
“Haah… think of my dignity too. If you act like that, I can't let it slide….”
Rowokeu lowered his head.
At his sigh, the surrounding bandits fell back.
Like clearing a path for a massive bull to charge.
Nothing remained between Rowokeu and Diallo but fat raindrops.
In that instant, the boss leaped forward and rushed at Diallo, who likewise pulled back his fist.
CRACK!
At the moment lightning struck.
A sharp blade split the raindrops.
Without even a gap to throw his punch, the fierce blade cut Diallo down.
The two men, tangled together tracing a smooth arc, passed each other by.
THUD!
Finally, the man who had been immovable as a mountain sank to his knees.
As if mourning his tragic end, the rain pouring from the sky intensified.
With a thoroughly displeased expression, Rowokeu glanced back.
“Let's go inside. Move the gear.”
“Don't get on the boss's nerves and hurry it up.”
The eleven bandits picked up their fallen comrades and gear and entered the monastery.
Having helplessly yielded the way, Diallo gasped for breath.
The monastery he had protected all his life had become a bandits' den.
The main hall where the family had gathered to eat, the training grounds where he had honed his iron fist, and more were slowly reflected in his eyes.
‘Haah…….’
Amidst the heavy raindrops.
Something entered his eyes as he let out a warm breath.
The library beyond the main hall.
It was the youngest, who had hidden in the library and failed to escape when all the monks fled.
Even though he was a thorn in his side, Diallo's face contorted.
The man, surveying his surroundings in that instant, held his breath.
Sid, gripping the window bars, trembled his fist, and he slowly opened his mouth.
‘Hide.’
A clear word emerged from between his slowly moving lips.
The man who had hidden his younger brother without a sound lowered his head on the spot.
Swaaa….
In that moment, Sid felt something explode inside his chest.
The harsh curses and gazes that had sharply oppressed him washed away like the rain outside.
That is what brothers are.
Even if they fight and hit each other, they end up looking out for one another first.
Even if they tease and torment each other right now, there is something that makes them grab a bat and chase after anyone who dares hurt the other.
Watching the tragic man, Sid clenched his fist.
He could not tolerate standing still like this.
Soon, a calm voice escaped from between the boy's small lips.
“Noonim. I have a crazy idea. Is that okay?”
[Please speak. I shall calculate the probability.]
* * *
“Everybody stop what you're doing!”
“Huh?”
“What the.”
The bandits unpacking their gear turned their gazes.
Outside the door where rain was pouring down.
Why, wasn't there a brazen young boy standing there?
The giant who should have been in the yard was nowhere to be seen, and only a potato-like boy was staring at them.
“What's with this potato brat. Why doesn't he get lost?”
When Rowokeu furrowed his brow, a bandit who had been wiping off moisture stepped forward.
The sight of Rowokeu drying himself with monastic robes entered Sid's eyes.
“Hey! Can't you see your monastery's been taken? We're tired, so get out quieeeetly…!”
THUD!
The bandit collapsed without finishing his sentence.
With a second variable appearing after Diallo, the bandits unpacking their gear rose from their spots one by one.
And Rowokeu, who had been sitting astride a chair in the innermost main hall, also furrowed his brow.
Rowokeu, who had been drying himself with monastic robes, waved his hand roughly.
“Can you just stay quiet? Since it's raining, I won't tell you to get out.”
“You heard him? Just stay quiet and get ouuuuut…!”
THUD!
The bandit who had fearlessly stepped forward despite seeing his comrade fall just moments ago collapsed.
With two men down in an instant, all the bandits' eyes went wide.
At first they thought it was a prank, but when it happened twice, they realized this was no ordinary occurrence.
Soon, the bandits in their places grabbed their weapons.
Even though eight adult men surrounded him, the boy's gaze didn't waver.
He merely stared calmly at only the bandit boss, Rowokeu.
“Tell that mister over there to come here. I'm not interested in you guys.”
“You fearless little runt!”
WHISH!
When a crude axe flew at him, Sid rolled his body.
Between the awkwardly splayed legs, an empty backside came into view.
In that instant, the boy's secret weapon that had already taken down two men detonated.
“Lightning Bolt.”
At the voice that whispered quietly, almost inaudibly, a sharp spark flew.
Blue flames sparked between Sid's hand and the backside, and as the numbing sensation hit, the bandit collapsed.
THUD!
“Huh?”
“Wha?”
With a third comrade down, the bandits gaped.
Magic circles rose above the boy's both hands.
And the faintly heard voice was undoubtedly the incantation for using magic.
The first two shots had been drowned out by the sound of rain.
“This kid's a mage!”
“A mage!”
“What kind of monastery has both a knight and a mage!”
“A mage?”
At his subordinates' fuss, Rowokeu's gaze turned.
There was a reason the bandits were surprised even at a fledgling mage like Sid.
The boy's fierce magic began to spew light.
“Lightning Bolt! Lightning Bolt!”
Crack! Crack! Crackle!
“Kuaaack!”
Bright flashes spread from the magic he gleefully fired off.
With lightning striking outside the occasionally open door, this scene was no different from a horror movie.
As Sid spammed magic at close range, the bandits scattered in panic.
Like a Tesla coil spewing electric current, the boy's Bolt magic pursued the bandits.
Soaked with rainwater and stripped of their gear, they helplessly crumbled before the boy's small magic.
“Lightning Bolt!”
Crack, crack!
[Details] Withdrawal
[Withdrawn Amount] *147 (Lightning Bolt)
[Deposited Amount]
[Balance] *3,112 (Chepesyu Monastery)
[Balance] *2,965 (Chepesyu Monastery)
[Balance] *2,819 (Chepesyu Monastery)
“Kuaack!”
“Ack, it stings!”
Each time he used magic, the bankbook in his bosom flashed.
It meant the ‘remaining mana’ in the bankbook connected to his circle had been normally withdrawn.
At the Lightning Bolt with output maximized, the bandits dropped one by one.
Of course, there were bandits who didn't faint in one hit, but whenever the sharp flash shone, the rainwater-soaked bandits were busy collapsing futilely.
This was the power of magic.
A weapon that could neutralize adult men even in the hands of a young boy!
“Lightning Bolt!”
“Kuaaaack!”
It didn't take long for the eight small fry to fall.
Finally facing Rowokeu, Sid extended his fist.
The boss, his nose bridge red from intoxication, finally rose from his seat.
Even from a short distance away, the difference in their weight classes was enormous.
“You. Where'd you learn magic.”
“Lightning Bolt!”
No room for Q&A.
Sid's magic flashed.
Contrary to the expectation that he would easily fall like the other bandits, Rowokeu merely scrunched his face and endured the magic with his bare body.
It was strange given his body wasn't completely dry nor was he wearing gear.
As Sid's eyes went wide, Rowokeu sauntered forward.
He held his chin high and looked him up and down, exuding intimidation.
“I saw it often during the war. The sight of a swordsman who trained his whole life falling helplessly to a fledgling mage. Of course, as magic developed, means to defend against it increased too, but unfortunately our guys don't have that. I do, though.”
“Ice Bolt!”
CLACK!
Swinging his bare hand, Rowokeu deflected an ice chunk the size of a fist.
It was no lie that magic with a projectile could be easily blocked.
Rowokeu, walking with a swagger, looked down at Sid.
Sharp eyes spread over his red nose bridge.
“I suffered my whole life swinging a sword, so it'd be lame to die to a fledgling mage, right? Don't you think?”
[173,400]
‘He was a mana wielder?’
Rowokeu's mana entered Sid's eyes.
Though it was not comparable to Chepesyu's, possessing this much mana, it was no wonder he had a certain degree of resistance.
Soon, Rowokeu's longsword rose high.
Before long, the carelessly swung sword fell toward his head.
CLANG!
“Huh?”
The hairy bandit's eyes went wide.
Contrary to his intention to inflict a moderate wound and break his will, what reached his ears was not a scream.
The sound of metal clashing against metal.
To him, who had crossed blades countless times, it was the most familiar sound of all.
And beneath the heavy longsword, there was a boy blocking the blade with his two arms.
The boy, who had shaped blue mana into a sword, blocked the longsword and immediately aimed for his chest.
SHHK!
In the moment of carelessness, a small wound about a span wide appeared on his chest.
It was a counterattack that happened in an instant.
“Oh?”
“I've repaid one wound for Brother!”
Whether he had deliberately attacked in the same manner as Diallo, Rowokeu's gaze turned.
It was impressive enough that he had trained in magic in these remote mountains to take down subordinates, but using mana to block a sword and even counterattack drew admiration.
This brat.
He was no ordinary fellow.
“Hoo… what on earth does this monastery do?”
- To be continued in Episode 8 -