Wandering Mercenary in an Open World

Chapter 22:

“The yellow hand is madness, the red hand is self-mutilation, the black hand is corruption, and the entangled mass of them shall be our king.”

Amella, murmuring softly, added, “It’s a verse I learned while chasing after Salvator. Do you remember the symbol on the man’s forehead?”

Nodding in response to her words, Ruon suddenly recalled a fleeting memory in his mind.

“The armor that came in contact with his whip rotted away in an instant, is that the same?”

“Yes, it’s the power of decay,” Amella confirmed.

Kyle interjected subtly.

“—What about the one who turned into a beast?”

“If we strictly analyze it, it could be a derived ability from the power of madness, but it’s not strictly defined like an official rule, so I’m not sure. What’s important is not that, but whether the deaths in the village beyond the road are related to Belducias.”

As the old gravedigger stared at the faces of his companions with a dumbfounded expression on his face, Ruon answered with a stern face.

“It’s better this way.”

With potato peels still in his mouth, he continued, mumbling.

“If we’re in a situation where we can’t guarantee when the essence of the fragment will return, it seems like a reasonable decision to face it head-on.”

Amella nodded with a serious face. 

“Alright, we can’t keep this damn rock forever. Let’s head to the village as soon as it gets bright. It would be better to crush anything related to Belducias if he truly is involved.”

Taking a deep breath, Kyle exhaled forcefully and added, “I’ll lend a hand as well. It’s time to pay my dues.”

The elderly gravedigger, who couldn’t follow the flow of the conversation at all, muttered, “W-What in the world is all this about?”

Ruon replied. 

“Don’t worry about it old man, it’s business as usual.”

***

The small, cramped huts in the countryside village seemed engulfed in the despair of the continued deaths.

There was no sign of life.

Ruon met the glazed eyes of a villager as he walked by, carrying a bucket of water.

“Let’s go to the inn for now.”

As the group entered the inn, the owner, who was wiping beer mugs, looked up and greeted them. 

“Welcome.”

Approaching the table where the group was sitting, the owner continued.

“I must inform you in advance that it’s difficult for us to offer any meat dishes, except for chicken, as the owner of the butcher shop passed away a week ago.”

Ruon nodded, as it wasn’t hard to deduce that the person who had stabbed their own body with a butcher’s knife was the owner of the butcher shop.

“Whatever food is available now is sufficient. Alcohol is fine, but if you have any hot milk or tea, I’ll take them instead.”

Kyle muttered quietly as he watched the owner head towards the kitchen. 

“The atmosphere in this village is truly miserable.”

Ruon lightly nodded in agreement and turned to Amella, who was sitting opposite him.

“Amella, you’ve been tracking Salvetor for quite a long time. Were the places he passed through like this?”

Amella lowered her head. 

“No, he wasn’t the type to work over a long period like this. The monastery was a bit of an exception, as he mostly carried out his work overnight. The difference here is that the murders, which started with one family, have spread to the entire village.”

“I see.”

‘I guess we’ll just have to figure it out ourselves.’

While Ruon was thinking, the owner approached, placing food and drinks on the table. It was a modest meal consisting of dense rye bread, stew, and warm milk.

“Wow… it sure looks… good.”

With a soulless exclamation, Kyle was about to put a spoonful of stew in his mouth when the sound of the inn’s door opening stopped him.

“Bring us some drinks!”

Before they even had a chance to sit down, a group of young men and women, led by a loud man, rushed into the inn. Some of them spewed saliva on the floor as they chuckled.

Ruon’s eyes narrowed as he looked at them.

‘What’s going on?’

The excitement they displayed was too excessive to simply dismiss them as mere thugs. Their eyes, wild and restless like beasts, intensified his suspicion.

Not liking their disrespectful attitude, Kyle grumbled under his breath.

“What a bunch of insolent bastards.”

Meanwhile, the man who had shouted first, while placing his beer mug on the table, spoke up. 

“Bring us some roasted pig, Bilbo.”

Even with his disrespectful tone, the innkeeper responded with a bitter smile. 

“That’s not possible. You know that, don’t you?”

“Shut up.”

The man suddenly stood up and jabbed his index finger into the innkeeper’s chest.

“It’s because we look like we don’t have any money. Huh? Tell me, Bilbo. We look like beggars, don’t we?”

Taking a step back, the innkeeper replied. 

“Jerry, the butcher… Don’t you remember?”

At the trembling question, the man called Jerry looked around. Then he turned behind him.

“Hey, who was the butcher?”

“I don’t know, man.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know? Idiot.”

“I’m hungry! Jerry!”

In response to the grumbling answer, Jerry chuckled and looked at the innkeeper.

“What do we care? We’re just hungry.”

“The butcher… was your father, Jerry. Don’t stoop to this level. If you young ones…”

Then Kyle murmured.

“These guys are a bunch of lunatics.”

It was loud enough to make Jerry snap his head around. Looking directly into the restless eyes of the agitated man, Kyle said, “What, you want some? You little bastard.”

Ruon raised an eyebrow as he looked at the sight. 

‘What is he doing?’

Jerry, who had been momentarily dazed, chuckled and extended his hand behind him. One of the women sitting down handed him a short, sharp knife.

It was ironic that while he couldn’t remember that the butcher was his father, the knife he held in his hand was a butcher’s knife.

“Say that again. What did you say?”

As the menacing man approached, Kyle stood up to face him.

“I said you’re a crazy bastard. Why? Do you want me to say it again?”

Then Ruon’s large hand grabbed Kyle’s collar, pulling him back.

“Ugh!”

Overwhelmed by the tremendous force, Kyle reluctantly slumped back onto his chair, turning his head.

“Ruon?”

“You seemed worked up.”

“What?”

“Grab the shield.”

At those words, Kyle snapped out of it and tightly grasped the shield that was leaning against the wall. Then he exhaled forcefully.

“What the hell is going on?”

Amella, observing Kyle calming his breath, spoke up.

“It’s magic. Is it penetrating their minds? Considering that it has spread throughout the entire village…”

Ruon interrupted her explanation.

“Explain later.”

Casually rising to his feet, he grabbed the lunging Jerry by the wrist and twisted it backward.

“Ack!”

In response to Jerry’s scream, his comrades pulled out their crude weapons and lunged them at him in unison.

Ruon, meanwhile, yanked on the broken wrist and caught Jerry’s face with his shoulder, then kicked the falling man in the chest.

As one of the men rushing towards them collided with the flying Jerry, they both fell to the ground. Meanwhile, Ruon extended his fist towards the face of a man swinging a dagger.

As blood splattered and the man crumbled, another man appeared behind him, wielding a sickle.

Looking at the worn-out blade, Ruon sighed softly and grabbed the opponent’s wrist before applying force.

“Aaah!”

As the sickle slipped from his hand, Ruon struck the struggling man’s cheek. He then turned his head at the dull noise coming from his side.

There, Kyle was holding the wrists of the man he’d just beaten, who was much larger than him.

With a smug smile, Ruon, holding the butcher’s knife, coolly spoke to a trembling woman.

“It would be better for you to leave without doing anything unnecessary.”

With the terrified woman fleeing outside the inn in response to the solemn warning, the inn was momentarily in a state of subdued chaos.

The innkeeper sighed as he looked at the mess that had suddenly unfolded.

“It’s clear that a curse has befallen our village.”

Ruon approached the stumbling innkeeper and spoke.

“Do you have any ropes?”

“Why ropes…?”

“To tie up these bastards.”

“I’ll go look for some.”

The innkeeper rushed to the kitchen.

“What’s Amella doing?”

Ruon asked, looking at Amella, who was sitting on the floor with her eyes closed. Kyle shook his head in response.

“I have no idea. She has been acting like this since the fight.”

“I see.”

Since he had no reason to do anything unnecessary, Ruon didn’t pay much attention to her. He returned with the ropes, and together with the innkeeper, they tied the wrists and ankles of the fallen men.

“When did these lunatics start behaving like this?”

“What do you already know?”

“I heard about the situation from the old gravedigger outside the village.”

The innkeeper, Bilbo, nodded slowly.

“I see. Recently, the old man has been collecting bodies every other day…”

Bilbo spoke with a melancholic expression as he looked down at the unconscious men.

“I’m not entirely sure either. Suddenly, everyone started screaming and talking nonsense, and eventually they repeated actions that harmed their own bodies until they died.”

Ruon nodded in acknowledgement to the innkeeper’s words. It seemed that the villagers were completely clueless about what was happening.

Then Amella’s voice was heard.

“I found the source of the magical waves.”

She had stood up without anyone noticing, brushing off the dust from her robe, and spoke.

“Let’s hurry.”

The group immediately left the inn.

Perhaps hearing the screams coming from the inn, the villagers firmly locked their doors, observing the group passing by through their windows with anxious gazes.

In the midst of those uneasy stares, Kyle spoke.

“Amella? Could you give us a proper explanation…”

Amella, who was walking ahead, didn’t turn around but opened her mouth.

“There’s someone hiding in this village who emits waves that contaminate the mind. The more impulsive a person’s nature, the more they seem to be affected.”

The place where her footsteps stopped was a small church located on one side of the village.

‘Why are all these bastards camped out in places like this?’

Reading Ruon’s expression, Amella spoke.

“The great demons want to place their authority above that of the ancient gods. Their vile desires are faithfully carried out by their minions, like Salvator at the monastery.”

Ruon chuckled.

“Not even a grand cathedral, just a small countryside church? That’s quite impressive.”

Before he even finished his sentence, he forcefully pushed open the door of the church and entered.

A man with a gentle demeanor dressed in black priestly robes smiled warmly at Ruon.

“Have you come to offer prayers to Torsch?”

In that moment, Ruon felt the low tremor of the Holy Sword at his waist. At the same time, he heard Amella’s voice from behind.

“It’s him.”

Without hesitation, Ruon drew the dagger from his embrace and thrust it with full force.

The man, whose forehead was instantly pierced, collapsed to the ground. The man, who had been twitching and convulsing, had his pupils dilate before his movements came to a halt.

Startled, Kyle shouted.

“Ruon!”

“What?”

In response to the nonchalant reply, Kyle stumbled over his words.

“Well, we still need to check. If we suddenly kill him like that, how will we be certain?”

“He’s not dead.”

“What?”

Leaving Kyle dumbfounded, Ruon spoke.

“I didn’t get experience points.”