-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Paulownia Mercenary Corps (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The leader of the Paulownia Mercenary Corps (which one should read as "bandit gang"), a once-promising knight named Otto, couldn't believe the scene unfolding before his eyes.
'What the hell... The village chief clearly said...'
It was just one big barbarian warrior.
Of course, that wasn't wrong.
'But he left out the part where the bastard is insanely strong!'
Even for Otto, who had experienced countless battles, this was a sight he'd never seen before.
The monstrous strength of wielding a massive axe that looked too heavy just to hold like a toy, cleaving both man and horse in two with a single swing.
'Damn it, then.'
Otto raised his hand, and four of his men smoothly drew their bows.
'No matter what, he's just a brute barbarian warrior with raw power. We can take him down with ranged attacks.'
Meanwhile, Attila.
'Ah. I ended up killing the horse too.'
He was regretting the mistake he'd made without realizing it.
Horses in this era fetched a pretty penny.
He'd killed one by accident, but from now on, he needed to be more careful—or so he thought when his eyes caught four arrows flying straight at him.
'Hm?'
Attila raised the Dragon Jaw Axe to block them, then instinctively swung his right arm.
The Dragon Jaw Axe left his master's hand, pierced through one archer and the horse he rode, then embedded itself in the chest of the man behind them.
"Gahk...!"
The man let out a final scream as he tumbled to the ground.
The now riderless horse whinnied loudly and bolted somewhere.
'Damn it again.'
Along with the rough curse from the bandit leader who looked like the boss, more arrows came flying.
Having lost the Dragon Jaw Axe, Attila pulled out a hand axe, deflected them, and charged toward the leader.
"Shoot! Shoot, you idiots!"
As Otto shouted and fell back, another archer fell to Attila's axe blow.
'Good. Saved the horse this time.'
But the horse, terrified by Attila's overwhelming killing intent, bolted again.
'Don't go!'
At the same time, three sword blades lunged at Attila's opening.
This was a completely different level from the spear-wielding fool or the two archers who'd died after a few shots.
'Knights?'
He could feel the sharpness that only those trained properly in swordsmanship over long years could emit.
Three attacks coming from different directions.
Strength entered Attila's eyes.
Clang clang clang!
The sharp clash of metal rang through the air.
The knights' swords didn't touch Attila.
He blocked every single attack perfectly.
"What the—?!"
"He blocked it?!"
Attila laughed.
He remembered what Munjuk had told him.
'There are few on the entire continent who could face you one-on-one.'
'But no matter how skilled a warrior, they can't overcome overwhelming numerical inferiority. Keep in mind that your Bravery and stamina aren't infinite.'
Attila had learned that lesson painfully in the battle against the Blood Axe Tribe.
His stamina had completely depleted while taking down dozens alone.
'It's better than back then now, though.'
He'd leveled up several times while leaving the savage forest.
Naturally, his stamina stat had risen too.
That didn't mean he was going to get complacent, not even a little.
"Wh-what the hell is this guy?!"
"He's blocking everything!"
"Damn it! Do it properly!"
The knights shouted.
Then the leader turned his horse and started fleeing.
"B-boss!"
"The leader's running!"
'No way I'm letting him escape.'
Attila used Counterattack to unhorse all three knights in one go.
As expected, the riderless horses scattered in all directions as if they'd been waiting.
The remaining bandits, having lost their will to fight, chased after their leader on horseback.
'Can I reach him?'
Attila was about to throw a hand axe at the leader's back when he realized the guy had put some serious distance between them.
That's when something caught Attila's eye.
'That'll do.'
Attila dashed to the corpse of the first bandit he'd killed and grabbed the spear.
His arm muscles bulged like a fish leaping out of water.
[Skill: Spear Throw activated.]
It shot forward with tremendous force.
Otto, sensing something ominous, looked back and let out a scream of horror.
"Wh-what the hell is that?!"
The spear, drawing a serpentine curve like a snake, pierced the horse of the subordinate following Otto, then another horse.
Amid the horrific screams, the two critically wounded horses toppled the ones beside them like bowling pins.
Otto's eyes bulged as if they might pop out at the unbelievable sight.
'Is that even human...!'
Staring at the horse's rump barreling toward him, Otto gave up everything.
Thwack! Otto's vision went black, and Attila, confirming the hit, raised both arms triumphantly.
"Strike!"
* * *
"The village chief said he was handing me over to you bastards, and even paying extra compensation on top of that?"
"Y-yes, that's right, warrior sir."
Otto groveled as he spoke.
He and the other seven bandits who'd luckily survived were bound with ropes and forced to their knees.
"Hmm. Is that so."
Attila didn't show even a hint of surprise.
Everyone had seen it coming.
'Well, it was a ridiculous request from the start.'
All he'd done was deal with four idiots who didn't even qualify as proper bandits.
Asking an unproven barbarian warrior to wipe out a bandit group led by a former knight? It was utter nonsense.
'They must've thought barbarians are ignorant.'
He could understand the village chief's thinking.
The village was suffering major damage because of some random barbarian warrior from who-knows-where.
If he could settle it with the outsider who'd caused it plus a bit of compensation, it was a huge profit for the chief.
But that was their problem.
"How much compensation did you demand?"
"T-ten gold coins."
This son of a bitch.
When he was pretending to be a poor old man with no money, he'd promised ten gold coins to the bandits?
"P-please spare our lives, and I'll give you ten gold coins plus all the wealth we've accumulated."
"How much is that worth?"
"D-dozens of silver coins, at least."
"You're joking, right?"
"..."
Attila asked Otto, who had gone silent like a mute who'd eaten honey.
"The village chief said a Gascony Duke subjugation force would arrive in a few days. Did you know?"
"O-of course. That's why we planned to beat this barbarian punk and then—"
"Barbarian punk?"
"N-no, I mean, once we finished with you, sir barbarian, we were going to leave the area for a while."
"If I hand you over to the duke, I'd get more than ten gold coins, right?"
"Oh sir! How can you say such a cruel thing!"
Otto burst into tears and slammed his head on the ground.
At his fierce glare, the other bandits joined in, wailing "Oh no!" and shedding fake tears while banging their heads.
"Got any horses left?"
Unfortunately, all the horses they'd ridden were dead, fled, or too injured to recover.
"Y-yes. These are all the ones we brought today."
"Damn."
He'd planned to sell the horses for a nice profit and ride the best one himself.
Otto, quick on the uptake, asked.
"Do you need horses, sir? There's some good ones at the lord's manor."
"At the lord's manor?"
"Yes. The lord of this village has some fine steeds. A guy with sword skills not even fit to lick my boots survived the last battle purely thanks to his horse."
"If it's the lord's horse, he won't just hand it over easily, right?"
"Well, of course not."
"Then we can trade you for them."
"Oh sir!"
* * *
"You want to exchange the bandits you've captured for my warhorses?"
The old knight Bertrand, who appeared at the lord's manor, was a man with a dignified look that must have made women swoon in his day.
"That's right. And I'd like appropriate reward money as well."
The village chief standing beside him jumped in surprise and stared at Attila.
And for good reason—before coming to the manor, Attila had stopped by the chief's house, collected the quest completion fee, squeezed out the ten gold coins promised to Otto, and stripped him of silver and copper coins as penalty for fraud.
'Is he obsessed with money?! I thought barbarians had no greed for wealth—total bullshit rumor!'
The lord, Bertrand, feigned anger in his voice.
"You capture a few bandits and now demand my warhorses and a reward from me?"
"They're not just 'a few bandits.'"
"What?"
"I've heard you struggled for days to catch them. Just recently, you were on the verge of death at the hands of their leader, only surviving thanks to your horse."
"What nonsense is that?! Who said such rubbish?!"
"The village chief right next to me."
"Wh-when did I?!"
The chief yelped in panic, and Bertrand's furious gaze nailed him.
"Besides, you know they're not ordinary bandits, don't you, my lord? Four of them are former knights who can be used as combat forces immediately."
"Hah! 'Immediate combat forces'? You talk as if war is about to break out in this peaceful Gascony Duchy territory."
"Isn't the duke preparing for war with the eastern Aquitaine County? I heard in detail from the village chief that the troops marching here aren't primarily for bandit subjugation, but for the war in the east."
"You bastard!"
The enraged lord bellowed at the chief.
"You scoundrel!"
"Oh no, my lord! I didn't say a word to him! You barbarian warrior! Why are you framing me?!"
"If the chief didn't tell me, how would I know?"
"You filthy liar!"
The chief, yelling hysterically, was dragged away on the lord's orders.
Justice served, you con artist old man.
"You knew their skills, my lord, which is why you tried to capture them alive. That's why you took unnecessary injuries in the last battle."
At Attila's subtle words, Bertrand's eyes widened.
"What?"
"Otherwise, the great knight known as the 'Southern Vulture' wouldn't have failed against these ragtag bunch."
"Hohoho. So you knew that name."
"Of course. Among the barbarian tribes where I lived, the 'Southern Vulture' is a symbol of terror that stops even crying children."
"Hahahahaha."
Of course, it was all bullshit.
But Bertrand looked greatly pleased.
'Yes. There was a time like that.'
He'd been planning to retire from the front lines after this war.
After getting easily defeated by Otto in the bandit subjugation he'd led with his aging body, that thought had accelerated.
And now, someone appeared who recognized him and praised him—how could he not feel good?
"Very well. I have three warhorses; you can have whichever one you want."
"Thank you. But what about the reward?"
"Ten gold coins. But there's a condition."
Attila put on a surprised face at the word "condition," but inside, he was thrilled.
'Perfect.'
All the conversation so far had been laying the groundwork for exactly what he wanted.
Soon, the expected words came from the lord's mouth.