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Chapter 22
Chapter 22: Wanted Criminals, the Maw Bandits (4)
The youngest of the Maw Bandits, Mikkelsen, was nearly having a seizure.
“Hiiiik! B-Boss! Are you serious?”
Was he about to cast some kind of meteor? Why was he reacting like that?
Hardin asked indifferently.
Wе b n̈о v ė l̊ Е̃ n̂ ũ_m̆ а̂
“Hey, what’s he doing now?”
“G...Ground Split!”
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“Pig Split?”
“No! Ground! Literally a technique that shatters the earth!”
“Ah, really?”
“Hiiiik! Guys! Get up! We’re in big trouble!”
Е ṅ ūm а̄
Mikkelsen quickly ran around, slapping the faces of the other bandits who had collapsed to wake them up.
“Uuuugh... Wh-What is it, Mikkelsen.”
“Brother Beryl said he’s going to use Pig... no, Ground Split!”
The bandits who had regained their senses flinched in shock and looked over at Beryl.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
“Hiiiik!”
“C-Crazy!”
Ẽǹum̀å . і̄d.
As if they had seen a ghost, they all shrieked and scattered in a panic.
In no time, the nearby bandits had retreated far back and were now watching from a distance.
‘What a commotion.’
Hardin narrowed his eyes and stared at Beryl.
A wooden pillar brimming with mana, his body swollen taut.
That was clearly an attempt to land a single powerful blow using Weapon Enchant.
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With that amount of mana and bulk, swinging something like that would surely...
‘The destructive power would be incredible.’
Tactically, it wasn’t a bad choice.
If you didn’t know proper swordsmanship or battle theory, the best thing you could do was simply smash with brute force.
In the past, he would have blocked it with his foot while laughing, but with his body as it was now, taking that head-on?
‘It’ll... get a bit tiring.’
W̄ ӗ b́ n̊ō v̆ e l̄ Е́ n_ŭ m̀а
Honestly, the simplest thing would be to dodge or deflect it.
But somehow...
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‘I kind of want to take it once.’
That seemed more fun.
Hardin’s lips curled into a slow smile.
Srrrng!
Ẇ е b̂ ň о̆v́ е̇l̊ Е̊ n̊u̇ḿа̌
Hardin drew the sword at his waist and leveled it forward.
At this point, he barely had a speck of mana left.
To face this head-on was no different from a suicide attempt.
Unless the one holding this sword was “Varlach Daphne.”
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“Uoooorgh!”
Meanwhile, Beryl was working himself into an even greater frenzy.
Éň ŭ m̌ а
His muscles swelled larger, and the log he held emitted an even more vivid blue energy.
Beryl roared in his booming voice.
“If you don’t want to die, surrender now! Then... I’ll at least spare your life!”
“Enough, just hurry up and come.”
But Hardin only replied casually.
“If dying is your wish!”
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Thud! Thud! Thud!
Beryl began to charge.
His eyes glowed so blue they were almost invisible, and he charged forward with the blue-tinged log thrust ahead.
He looked like a charging battering ram.
“Oh.”
The momentum wasn’t bad.
Е ṅ u m̃.а .î d
Hardin smiled faintly and closed his eyes tight.
He calmed his breathing and gripped the sword firmly in both hands.
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‘Let’s try this.’
The tiny remnant of mana in his core.
He drew it out and sent it straight into his arm.
Tatang! Tatang!
Е ňu ḿa_. і ď
Without letting the flow stop, he guided it into the blade.
So pitiful an energy it was embarrassing to even call it a stream, the sword began to emit a faint glow.
And he stirred that feeble ripple inside the sword.
Ripple, ripple.
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The tiniest mana swelled within, forming a wave that grew in strength.
The image became vivid in his mind, and a surge of waves washed over his thoughts.
Ẁe b n о̄ v̀ е̊ľ Е̂ ň u̇ m ȧ
Hardin slowly opened his eyes.
“Uoooorgh!”
Thud! Thud!
Beryl closed the distance in an instant.
He lifted the massive log high overhead and let out a roar.
The oppressive force felt as if a towering fortress wall were bearing down.
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Yet Hardin did not retreat.
On the contrary, he looked perfectly serene, even wearing a faint smile.
*Rip Current.*
Then, slowly, he raised the sword, its quivering waves surging, up above his head.
Kaaaaang!
Beryl’s log slammed down with all its strength onto Hardin’s sword.
Е̂ n̊ û m а̄ . ïd̀
Kwagijijijik!
At the moment of impact, sparks burst forth, and a crack split across Hardin’s blade.
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“It’s over!”
Beryl curled his lips into a smile, certain of victory.
A deadly strike poured forth with his entire might.
With this, Hardin’s sword wouldn’t last more than a few seconds before shattering, and Hardin himself would be turned into jerky in an instant.
Еn̈ ù.m ӑ
That was how it should have been.
“...Huh?”
Gulp.
The vivid blue glow within Beryl’s log suddenly drained away, as if sucked forward, and the force behind it vanished.
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The energy that had vanished in an instant flowed straight into Hardin’s sword, which had been on the verge of breaking.
‘...What the hell?!’
Wе.b_n̊ o v e̊ l̃ Ӗ ňu m̃а̌
Hardin’s blade swelled with ever-growing energy, while the log rapidly dimmed and dulled.
Beryl tried desperately to resist, forcing his circuits to accelerate and pulling mana back toward himself, but nothing budged.
And when it reached its peak—
Hardin looked up with a mocking smile in his eyes and spoke.
“I’ll make good use of your strength.”
“What did you say?”
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A split second later—
Puk!
Hardin extended his foot and lightly kicked Beryl in the stomach.
“...?!”
As Beryl stumbled backward, his body wavering—
“Take this.”
Е n ù m̊ ӓ
Hardin swung the blue-glowing sword forward with a sweeping motion.
‘I...I’m going to die.’
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For a moment, a vision appeared in Beryl’s eyes.
A colossal tidal wave crashed over his body, erasing him without a trace—an overwhelming illusion.
Shiver.
A tingling dread as if death itself were descending washed over him.
En u m̊ ӑ . ìd_
“Huh?”
Thuck!
Hardin’s blade stopped right in front of Beryl’s eyes.
‘...It stopped?’
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Beryl blinked vacantly, unable to comprehend the series of events.
Then Hardin grinned broadly and murmured softly.
Еnum̌ а. i d̈
“Smack.”
“What?”
Kuaaaaaaaang!
“Guaaaah!”
At that instant, a burst of blue energy exploded from the blade.
Rip Current—one of the countless secret techniques of Wave Swordsmanship created by Varlach Daphne.
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An absolute counter that stole the mana within an enemy’s weapon and returned it in a single, lethal strike.
“U-ugh... gaaah!”
Kuuung!
Beryl’s skin blackened as he was engulfed by the blue torrent and flung backward.
“Whew, earning money really isn’t easy.”
Hardin crouched in front of him, poking Beryl’s belly repeatedly with his finger.
W̆ е b nоv е l Е́n̈um ã_
After doing so a few times—
Wuuuung!
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A faint light shimmered, completing the mana restraint seal.
‘Done.’
At last, one hundred thousand gold. It was a bit tiring, but...
Dark shadows pooled heavily beneath Hardin’s eyes.
Е̂ n u m̄ а́ . іd
“B-Boss!”
“...That bastard actually won?”
How could this be real?
Despair spread across the faces of the remaining bandits.
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---
On the flat ground spread out in front of the mountain bandits’ hideout.
Е̌n̆ ū m а. і́d̆
“Hey, hold still.”
“Aaagh! Could you please... tie it a bit more gently?”
“You lot have a lot of demands for a bunch of bandits.”
Kwaaaak!
Hardin firmly bound the bandits’ wrists and waists with vines he had gathered nearby.
Before long—
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“...”
From Boss Beryl down to the youngest Mikkelsen,
a long line of bandits strung together like sausages in vines was completed.
‘How... can this be real?’
‘We’re finished.’
‘This isn’t a dream, right?’
Е̂ num_а̇.іd̃
Everyone let out deep, defeated sighs, their faces dark.
One person—no, just one young brat who looked barely grown—and the entire bandit gang had been taken down.
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It felt like some kind of wretched nightmare.
But judging by the throbbing pain in their bruised bodies, it was definitely reality.
‘What... happens to us now?’
‘Are we going to die?’
E̊ nu̇ m̌ а̇ .і d́
While they were all on the verge of tears, Hardin spoke up in a drawling tone.
“Wipe those faces clean. Why are you all looking like you’re about to die? Those ugly mugs are getting even harder to look at.”
“...”
Would you feel like smiling if you were in our place?
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They all glared at Hardin with sullen expressions.
Hardin drew his sword and swung it lazily through the air with a blank look.
Еǹ úm̄ӓ
“I said, brighten up, will you? What? You don’t want to?”
“N-No! Hahaha... We’ll smile. We’ll smile, of course.”
“Yeah, yeah, look how much better that is when you smile.”
Srrrng!
Looking satisfied, Hardin sheathed his sword again.
Then, a voice piped up beside him.
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“Hudn, goja.”
“...Huh? What was that?”
He turned his head to see Beryl, whose face was swollen like a melon, mumbling with trembling lips.
Hardin frowned and asked,
“Were you talking to me?”
“E... gojanin.”
Е̂ ǹú mä . і̇ d
Crack.
Hardin’s brow twitched as he asked again.
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“Say that again. What?”
“Goja...nin?”
Crack, crack.
Veins began to bulge one by one across his forehead.
Е́ n̄_u mа̊
“You little shit...”
Grab!
Hardin seized Beryl by the collar and began shaking him roughly back and forth.
“Goja? Did you just call me an eunuch?”
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Did he think he wanted to become a mana eunuch?
What kind of worthless bandit picked a fight over something like this...
Ẃ éb ñо̄ v̌ е_l Е n̄ u m_a
“Uuurgh... N-no, it wasn’t eunuch, it was gojanin...”
As Beryl, his face bright red, shook his head desperately, Mikkelsen hurried over and shouted,
“He means Young Master, Young Master!”
“Hmm?”
“Not eunuch! He was trying to call you ‘Young Master!’ His teeth got knocked out, so he can’t pronounce it right!” (ED/N “gongjanim” is Young Master, while “goja” means eunuch)
Hardin froze with his arms mid-shake and widened his eyes.
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He looked Beryl up and down again.
Beryl, missing several teeth, burst into tears.
“Y-Young Master...”
Ah, so that’s what he meant?
Hardin set Beryl down with an awkward look on his face.
“Ahem! Well, anyone can make a mistake in life.”
Е́ nu̇ m̆а̄
“...”
At that, Mikkelsen and the other bandits stared blankly at Hardin.
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‘He seems... strangely sensitive to the word eunuch.’
‘Don’t tell me... it’s really true?’
Sensing their stares, Hardin waved his hand and spoke.
“I’m not acting like this because I am an eunuch, all right? It was just a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding.”
Ën̄u ḿ a
But hadn’t they heard that a strong denial was the same as a strong affirmation?
‘So it must be true?’
‘Good grief… How does that happen to someone so young…’
Expressions of pity spread across the bandits’ faces.
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Hardin’s face contorted as he shouted.
“I said it’s not true, damn it. That look on your faces… You’re not going to stop?”
Е̄ǹu.m̂ӓ.ї d́
“S-Sorry.”
“Ahem!”
Only then did the bandits force their pitying expressions to fade.
At that moment, Beryl spoke.
“Uhiheun… aheho eohehe denen geomikka?”
“What’s he saying now?”
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When Hardin asked, Mikkelsen interpreted.
“He wants to know what’s going to happen to us from here.”
…How the hell does this guy understand him?
Hardin let out a long snort and replied.
“What do you think? You’re all going to jail.”
“...”
Wē b̆nо̂ vе̌ ľ Е n ũ m̂ ā
Beryl squeezed his eyes shut in resignation, then opened them again and began to speak, while Mikkelsen supplied the translation.
“Jeohi… hanke han bun manj baju….”
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“He’s asking if you can please spare us just this once.”
Ah, here it came—the classic line from every third-rate villain.
Hardin shook his head firmly.
“No. Not happening. Forget it.”
Е̄ńům а..i d̄
Beryl put on a tearful face and rubbed his bound hands together. Mikkelsen explained again.
“Jeohi… geureoke napeun ingani anida….”
“He says… we’re not such bad people.”
“...”
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These bastards… really had no shame at all.
Cheok!
Е ñ ūm̃ а.і̂ d
Hardin narrowed his eyes and took out their wanted poster.
He tapped his finger on the words written there and spoke in a clear voice.
“See this here? Where it says ‘armed robbery and attempted murder’ plain as day? What, are you saying you didn’t do this?”
“Mah… mahhi handeyo….”
“He says… yes, we did.”
…Why were they so quick to admit it, though?
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Was it honesty, or did they just not have the energy to lie?
Hardin let out a hollow laugh and asked again.
“So you committed crimes, but you’re not criminals?”
Mikkelsen, looking as if he also realized how absurd this sounded, replied awkwardly.
“Ahem! To be precise… it wasn’t just ordinary robbery, it was more of… what you’d call ‘benevolent’ robbery…”
“For fuck’s sake, there’s no such thing as a benevolent crime!”
W̄ eb̃n̂ о v̄еl Е̌ n u_m a
Smaaaack!
“Aaagh!”
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Mikkelsen, who got smacked in the head, scrambled to add more explanation.
“N-no, really! If you’d just let us explain step by step, you might— Aaagh! Stop hitting me!”
“Shut up.”
“Aaagh! Young Master! Please, just give us one chance!”
Ӗń umà
“Go… gojanin!”
“I told you I’m not an eunuch!”
Puk! Puk! Puk!
Mikkelsen whimpered and Beryl let out a wailing scream.
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Who knew how long that righteous punishment (?) continued.
“Uwaaaaaa!”
Ẅ ё b̃ n̆ о v́е̇ l̈ Еn̄ u m a
A small shout rose up from behind them.
“Hm?”
When Hardin turned his head back—
He saw a young boy charging at him with a real sword in hand.
The boy looked no more than six or seven, with bright red hair and a face full of freckles.
‘What is this now?’
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Just as he furrowed his brow, the boy swung the sword.
Vwoooom!
“Oh dear.”
Hardin lightly sidestepped and deflected it.
Thuck!
“Aaagh!”
Еn̂û mӑ. íd
He hooked the boy’s leg, sent him tumbling to the ground, and pinned him down with a knee pressed firmly against his back.
“You—what are you supposed to be?”
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“Y-you evil bastard! Stop hurting Uncle Beryl… stop hurting all the uncles!”
“Hurting them? Me?”
As the kid kept writhing and struggling, Hardin turned his head to the side and asked.
“Hey. Who is this now?”
Еn ū må
“Well…”
Mikkelsen kept glancing around nervously, and the other bandits all lowered their heads.
“Talk. Before I snap this brat’s wrist.”
“T-that… He’s a child we were protecting!”
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“Protecting? You lot?”
Hardin let out a hollow laugh of disbelief.
Е̌ nümа̇ . і̃ d
At that moment—
“Uwaaaaah! Aaaah!”
From inside the bandit hideout, four or five more kids about the same age came charging out, each clutching a club.
“Bloody hell, what are these now?”
Thwack! Thwack!
“Kyaaah!”
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“Aagh!”
Naturally, he subdued them easily with a few light flicks to the forehead.
“Uwaaaah!”
“It hurts!”
The kids clutched the lumps sprouting on their heads and wailed loudly.
Beryl began thrashing around and shouting.
Wе̇ bń оv̈ еl Е nŭmа
“Uheheoooh! Daegojanin! Ahirheuneun geodeuhihi masisio!”
“What’s he babbling about now?”
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Mikkelsen interpreted.
“He… he’s begging you… not to harm the children.”
“You’re making it sound like I’m the scum here. Did I lay a hand on them? They attacked me first, didn’t they?”
“...”
Е̌n u m̂ a .їd
Hardin shook his head in disbelief, then stared closely at the children.
On the nape of one girl’s neck, he spotted something.
“What’s this?”
Swoosh.
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Hardin stepped over and examined the back of her neck.
Not only her—every child had the same pitch-black octopus tattoo near their collarbones.
Ѐ n ũm̀ а
A mark symbolizing wickedness and ill omen, a brand of defiance against the Sun God Faeron.
And in the Fabian Empire, what this tattoo meant was…
“You kids… are you slaves?”
“T-that’s…”
“That is, Young Master…”
At Hardin’s question, the bandits could only wear troubled expressions, none of them daring to answer properly.
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“Disgusting scum… Were you trafficking people too?”
Srrrng!
The last trace of amusement vanished from Hardin’s face as he leveled his sword forward, his eyes turning cold as ice.
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