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Chapter 01
At the fork where the forest path met the road to the village—
Fwoosh.
An orange glow flickered beyond the trees, lighting up the dark sky.
“By Lu Sola… I thought I smelled something burning.”
A militiaman with only one eye muttered as he stared at the sight.
If the flames were visible from here, then everything beyond had to be a sea of fire.
“Didn’t you say it was just one swordsman, Captain?”
The one-eyed man turned his head. The militia captain, leaning against a tree with a streaked gray beard, frowned.
“A sword-carrying spellcaster, it seems. I saw him myself. You doubting me?”
His gaze sharpened, as if he might draw his blade at any moment.
The one-eyed man forced a grin.
“Of course not. Just asking. Just in case.”
Unlike them, the captain had once served in the Imperial Army. A deserter, yes—but his swordsmanship was real.
“Captain… if that’s the case…”
A large, bald militiaman who had been watching the forest spoke up hesitantly.
“Shouldn’t we change the plan? Mages are… unsettling.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” the one-eyed man quickly added. “That’s the direction of the kobold den, no matter how you look at it.”
“If he’s a mage who can burn down a whole den by himself, maybe we should just back off?”
“……”
The captain’s brow furrowed deeper.
Encouraged by the lack of immediate curses, the one-eyed man continued.
“No need to risk our lives over a side job, right? He didn’t look like he had much on him anyway. Heh…”
“…Hoo.”
The captain let out a sigh.
He had formed this militia to protect the village from kobolds. It sounded dangerous, but in truth, it wasn’t.
Kobolds—small monsters—rarely left the forest. Stab one or two with a sword, and the rest would scatter in fear.
In return, they got free drinks and food from the village. Easy work.
And there was a profitable side business.
Wandering mercenaries would sometimes try to wipe out the kobold den.
None ever succeeded.
When their nest was threatened, kobolds went mad. They fought like true monsters, charging without fear of death.
So the captain and his men would wait along the road and rob the mercenaries who fled in pieces.
The bodies were easy to dispose of—leave them in the forest, and the kobolds would handle the rest.
Even if they found nothing that night, they could search the forest the next day. Kobolds cared about meat, not belongings.
It was a mutually beneficial relationship.
That had been the plan today as well.
“You idiots.”
That was, until he saw the flames.
The bald man and the one-eyed man stiffened.
“If that really is the kobold den burning, who cares about a side job? Our main job disappears tomorrow.”
“……!”
“……!”
The one-eyed man’s eye widened. The bald man did the same.
The captain clicked his tongue.
“That’s why we shut the mage’s mouth. The villagers must not find out the den’s gone.”
The two finally nodded.
The bald man swallowed.
“Won’t it be hard to keep it secret forever?”
“Tomorrow, we announce we’re going to purge the den. We return with spoils and say it was easier thanks to that mage. Who’ll know?”
“……!”
“……!”
The captain shrugged.
“Then we remain the village militia. Might even get officially appointed.”
“As expected of you, Captain…”
The one-eyed man muttered in admiration.
But the bald man spoke again.
“Still… can we win? Against a red mage?”
“That’s why now, you coward,” the captain snapped. “Magic isn’t an endless miracle.”
“With flames like that, he must’ve exhausted himself clearing the den. No mana left. It’s the damned Twilight of Mana anyway. A mage without mana is weaker than a child.”
He dragged his thumb across his throat.
“I’ve seen plenty of spellcasters die pathetically on the battlefield.”
“What if he still has mana?”
“Red magic takes time to chant. If something feels off, throw your sword first.”
The bald man’s eyes lit up.
“Got it, Captain.”
That was a lie.
If necessary, the captain planned to sacrifice his men to create an opening.
He trusted his own sword.
“Don’t worry.”
He patted the bald man’s shoulder.
“No great mage would come to a backwater like this. The real ones are all holed up in towers. So just do as usual—”
His voice suddenly cut off.
He peered into the darkness and lowered his body.
“Shh. He’s coming.”
“……!”
The two men ducked to either side of the road.
Step. Step.
A slow, limping footstep.
“Damn, this thing’s heavy…”
A muttering voice followed.
The smell hit them first—blood, smoke, sweat.
Then the mage appeared.
He looked as though he had bathed in ash and blood. His hood was gone. No sword at his waist. One leg dragged behind him.
In his arms, he carried something.
A head.
A massive kobold head with a horn on its forehead.
‘He really destroyed the den… insane.’
The captain realized it was the kobold chieftain.
And felt relieved.
‘This is the only chance to kill him.’
He waited until the mage came closer and signaled his men.
The bald man and the one-eyed man rose silently, blades drawn.
“……?”
The mage tilted his head.
Six or seven steps away.
Close enough to leap.
The captain rose a beat late.
“Better stop right there.”
Hand on his sword.
The mage stopped.
“Ugh…”
He sighed.
“Don’t say a word,” the captain snapped. “And that.”
He gestured at the head.
“Put it down. Do that, and we’ll spare your life.”
Silence.
Then a snort.
“As you wish.”
The mage released the head.
As it fell, his hand was revealed.
Blue mana flickered in his palm.
“……!”
“When?!” the captain instinctively shouted.
“Shoot!”
Whizz—
A bolt fired from behind the mage.
A hidden militiaman with a crossbow.
At the same moment, gray distortion shimmered behind the mage.
“AAAGH!”
The bald man collapsed, a bolt lodged in his thigh.
The wind barrier had bent the shot.
There was no time to think.
The one-eyed man charged. The captain followed.
Whoosh—
A burning gust slammed into them.
The barrier lasted only a moment.
But it was enough.
Clap.
The mage brought his hands together.
Shhhk—
Blue frost burst outward in a circle.
Everything it touched froze instantly.
“……!”
The one-eyed man, caught head-on, stumbled past the mage and collapsed.
Crack.
His frozen body shattered against the ground.
The captain was luckier.
“A—ah…”
Severe frostbite covered him, but he lived.
The spell’s range had not been wide.
The mage glanced at him and turned his head.
Red mana flared in his hand.
Seven fist-sized fireballs formed.
He fired six behind him.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
They exploded wildly.
“AAAGH!”
The hidden militiamen were engulfed.
“Spare me—!”
Boom! Whoosh!
The final fireball struck the bald man’s head.
Flames lit the road.
The captain trembled.
“H-how…”
His lips barely moved.
“Fire and ice… at the same time?”
In the Empire, mages specialized in one element. They guarded their knowledge fiercely.
It was common sense.
“How what?”
The mage picked up the captain’s fallen sword.
“Because I’m a broken build.”
“Broken…?”
Crack.
The sword crushed the captain’s neck.
“…Tiring bastards.”
The mage sighed and began searching the body.
Very practiced hands.
Soon, he pulled out a small pouch.
He forced open the frozen mouth.
“Expected more from that sword.”
Just a few coins.
He searched the others as well.
Then finally stood.
He glanced at his own hand.
“…Doesn’t even make me shake anymore.”
He picked up the frozen kobold head.
“Ah, cold.”
He used the captain’s sword as a cane and limped away.
Leaving the bodies behind.
***
Creak—bang!
The tavern door burst open.
All noise inside stopped instantly.
Drunks stared.
The man looked like he had crawled out of hell. And in his arms—a monstrous head.
Step. Step.
He walked to the counter.
Bang.
He dropped it down.
The muscular tavern owner jolted awake.
“This is… Oh. Huh.”
He chuckled.
“You really cleared the den. Didn’t expect that. Thank you.”
No reply.
The man raised his right hand.
Crunch.
A sword stabbed into the counter.
“…?”
The owner’s gaze fell on it.
“You met the militia.”
“Yeah.”
“All dead?”
“Yeah.”
Silence grew heavy.
“Is that all you have to say?”
The man asked.
The owner met his gaze.
Calm black eyes.
But thick with killing intent.
“…You did well.”
The owner swallowed.
“Those bastards ate and drank for free. They were thugs. Right?”
Some patrons shouted in agreement.
“…I see.”
The man nodded.
“You didn’t forget the reward.”
“Free lodging and meals for life. As promised. We could gather a fee too, though times are hard.”
“No need. I just want to sleep.”
He sheathed the sword loosely.
“Prepare hot bathwater. Now.”
“How much?”
“Until I say stop.”
He limped upstairs.
The owner called after him.
“Didn’t ask your name.”
A short answer.
“Ian.”
***
“Hang that head on the wall! Ugly bastard!”
“Looks like you!”
Laughter echoed below.
“…So loud.”
Ian scrubbed his body in the bath.
Third round of water.
Still felt filthy.
“If only I had cucumber soap.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Like that’s my biggest wish.”
His real wish was simple.
To return to his original world.
He lay back in the tub, staring at the cobwebbed ceiling.
“…Shouldn’t have downloaded that pirated file.”
It had been a year since he fell into this world—
A world with no hygiene, no human rights.
And he had become a villain in a dark fantasy.
