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Chapter 37
Shadow (2)
Through the darkness, a sudden light appeared.
The light was growing stronger.
Even from such a far distance, for it to be that bright, it could only mean a large fire.
“Looks like a fire broke out in the village.”
—Leave it. We can’t concern ourselves with every trivial matter. The villagers will take care of it themselves.
“That’s your problem. Always saying it’s not your business. This is my land. That’s my village, you idiot.”
Ian activated Warp toward the village that seemed to be on fire.
In an instant, he arrived at one side of the burning village and quickly scanned the surroundings to grasp the situation.
The village was ablaze everywhere, yet there wasn’t a single person trying to put out the flames.
Instead, thick smoke and screams filled the air.
“Stop right there before I kill you!”
“Please, spare me!”
“Mom! Dad!”
Ian’s face hardened as he saw a boy collapse weakly.
On the child’s back—who looked not even ten years old—a hand axe was cruelly buried.
“You’re really pissing me off.”
The slaver who had just retrieved his axe turned and spotted Ian, who stood with the burning building behind him.
“If you don’t want to die, come quietly. Living as a slave isn’t all that bad, heh heh.”
The man’s leering smile suddenly froze. Ian, who had been some distance away, was now standing right in front of him, staring him down.
“Who are you people?”
“You dumb bastard, what’s with the questions? Just die already!”
The man struck without hesitation, swinging his axe down.
Ian dodged easily, his face expressionless.
“You like axes that much?”
Snapping the man’s wrist and snatching the axe, Ian swung it twice in quick succession.
Like wood being shaved, flesh was cut away and the man’s kneecap shattered. Screaming, he collapsed, rolling on the ground. Ian then hurled the bloodied axe to the side.
Whirr!
Spinning through the air, the axe embedded itself in the forehead of another slaver who had been aiming a bow at Ian.
“Guh!”
The blow was so powerful it snapped the man’s neck as well, and his body was hurled into a burning house.
“I’ll ask again. Who are you people?”
“Guess who, huh? Heeheehee!”
Clutching his bleeding leg, the man on the ground jeered at Ian, taunting him with a defiant glare.
It was the kind of stubborn spirit that said, Kill me if you dare.
Ian picked up a trident lying nearby, his expression cold.
“Not funny, you bastard.”
He drove the trident through the man’s chest and flung both him and the weapon into the burning building.
“What the hell is that brute?!”
Just then, a dozen slavers emerged from a house they had been searching and, witnessing Ian’s actions, rushed at him in alarm.
Behind them, dozens of villagers could be seen bound tightly with ropes.
“What is this, a hunting ground for humans, you bastards?!”
They had set fire to the village, hurt the people, and were abducting them.
Judging from the flames engulfing the entire village, this was clearly a large, organized raid. They must have set the fires deliberately to drive hidden residents into the open.
To come into my domain and do this kind of thing…
Seeing his people hunted like animals made Ian’s blood boil.
Smoke-filled streets were littered with corpses. The fishing village had turned into hell.
“Consider yourselves dead today.”
Ian’s eyes burned with intensity, and in the next moment, his body vanished.
“Where’d that bastard go?”
The slavers, who had been rushing at him, looked around sharply, searching for the suddenly missing Ian.
Boom!
The roof of a burning building collapsed with a roar, and in that instant, Ian appeared silently among them.
In his hands were two scythes he had salvaged from the collapsing forge.
The blades glowed red-hot from the flames, radiating heat.
“The blacksmith wanted me to use these to cut your throats.”
With those chilling words, Ian crossed the scythes and swung outward with force.
Two heads were severed instantly, exposing brain matter.
They tried to speak, but only blood poured from their lips as their bodies collapsed.
For a moment, the others were stunned into stillness by Ian’s mercilessness. Then, jolted awake, they rushed at him.
Clang!
Ian blocked a sword with one scythe, then drove the red-hot blade of the other into an enemy’s heart.
Thud!
The man doubled over, coughing blood, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Bas…tard.”
“You too, bastard.”
Ian kicked him in the head, using the recoil to flip backward. Several blades sliced through the air where he’d just been.
Landing lightly, Ian pushed off the ground and darted forward again.
Clang clang clang!
Parrying swords in rapid succession, he shoved one man aside with his shoulder and slipped into their midst.
Using a large man’s body as a shield, he swung his scythes left and right with dazzling speed.
“Aaagh, my eyes!”
“Guh!”
One had his throat pierced, another was cut across the neck while clutching his face.
“You bastard!”
The large man, unwillingly used as a shield, wrapped his arms around Ian, trying to crush him with brute strength.
He was known among his peers for his strength and fully intended to break Ian’s bones on the spot.
“Die!”
Under the crushing pressure, Ian grimaced slightly, then looked at a nearby burning building.
In an instant, he warped himself and the man inside.
“Hot! Damn it!”
The muscular man panicked, realizing he was inside the inferno, and released Ian at once.
“Why me—?!”
Desperately looking for a way out, he saw only roaring flames blocking his escape.
“You bastard! You’re dying with me!”
He turned to curse Ian, but his body stiffened. He was alone.
“No!”
Ian had left him to burn, stepping out calmly as the man screamed. He discarded the scythes—their blades had melted and were useless.
But there were plenty of weapons lying around.
Picking up a sword dropped by the dead, Ian strode forward, glaring coldly at the remaining slavers.
“He’s alone! Don’t be afraid!”
They formed a triangular formation with shields up front and charged.
Ian raised his sword as if to smash the shields, then warped behind them instead.
Without hesitation, he slashed mercilessly at their exposed backs.
Blood splattered his face, and screams echoed in his ears.
There are times when his hands must be stained with blood.
Not for the sake of lofty ideals like justice—but simply because, as lord, it was his duty to punish those who dared to invade his village.
That was the bare minimum responsibility of one who enjoyed the privileges of a lord.
—More of them are coming.
Blanzor crossed his arms as he spoke.
“Let them. I was going to hunt them down anyway.”
Covered head to toe in blood, Ian cut down every new attacker who came at him.
The battle was fierce, but Ian didn’t utter a word—he focused solely on killing.
Slash.
A blade grazed his side, pain flaring hot, but Ian didn’t falter. With cold precision, he swung his sword again.
“Arghhh!”
One slaver wearing a looted necklace screamed as his face split apart. Trembling, he looked up at Ian, silently begging for mercy.
Ian, without hesitation, severed his neck.
Thud.
When the last man fell, Ian exhaled heavily and surveyed the scene.
The street was piled with the corpses of dozens of slavers, grotesquely tangled.
—Looks like every one from this area has gathered.
“There’ll still be more left.”
Wiping blood from his eyes, Ian approached the bound villagers who had been watching in awe.
But as he drew near, they involuntarily flinched and recoiled.
With his face half-covered by a hood and drenched in blood, Ian must have looked terrifying.
Pausing briefly, Ian then swung his sword to slice through the ropes binding them, one by one.
“Thank you for saving us.”
Freed, the villagers offered words of gratitude.
“Do you know who those people were?”
One of the villagers answered his question.
“They’re the underlings of the slave trader Chrome. I overheard them talking earlier.”
“Slave trader Chrome?”
“A vile man who kidnaps people and sells them as slaves. I’d only heard rumors… never thought he’d actually appear in our village.”
“I see.”
Ian turned his gaze north. Not far from the fishing village lay a large forest. The flames wouldn’t reach there, making it a suitable place to hide.
“Head into the forest. I’ll clean up the rest of them.”
“We’ll fight with you!”
Some villagers declared their intent to defend their home, but Ian shook his head.
“The fire’s spreading fast. It’s too dangerous to stay in the village.”
“But our families are in their hands!”
A man shouted angrily, but Ian replied coldly.
“Every moment we waste arguing, more people die. I’ll save as many as I can. For now, retreat—even if it hurts to leave.”
“Let’s listen to him. We’ll only get in the way.”
An old fisherman calmed the angry villagers and led them toward the forest, though he glanced back.
Who on earth is that man? I should have at least asked his name…
With his hood hiding his face, the old man regretted not seeing Ian’s true identity.
Once they were gone, Ian used Warp again, quickly searching the village until he reached the seaside.
There, near the fishing boats, he saw countless men holding torches.
“Anyone tries to run, I’ll gouge their eyes out! If one escapes, the one next to him dies! Remember that!”
Hundreds of captured villagers knelt on the ground, their hands and feet bound, while slavers swaggered among them, shouting and kicking them.
So they’re all gathered here.
By rough count, there were well over a hundred of the slaver’s men.
“You there! What the hell are you?!”
One of them spotted Ian approaching casually and shouted, weapon raised.
At that voice, everyone turned their gaze toward Ian.
Ian, surrounded by enemies bristling with weapons, spoke in a quiet yet powerful voice—
