SWY 58

“Human hunter? Are you saying someone’s hunting people?”

Sharhan’s brows drew together in a scowl.

“This is the first time I’ve run into one myself, but I heard Delos’s men have been taking survivors. And they call the ones who do that hunters.”

“What? Is that really true?”

“Yeah. Word is, they take them to use for their own entertainment.”

“Fucking bastards.”

Beside the cursing Sharhan, Derry blinked in disbelief. He looked like he couldn’t fully accept it.

“I didn’t want to believe it when I heard, but I guess it’s true. They corner survivors like this and then come for them… Damn, look.”

The building where the archer had been posted now had its doors thrown open, and five well-built men stepped out, all wielding weapons. Judging by their relaxed demeanor even as walking corpses rushed at them, they were clearly seasoned fighters.

“Crush their skulls!”

The bald man in front shouted, and the others surged forward, smashing in the heads of the oncoming corpses. They weren’t amateurs.

Without a hint of hesitation, they swung their weapons cleanly and struck fatal blows in a single hit. They laughed and roared as they moved, clearly enjoying themselves. Even though a fair number of corpses had gathered, drawn by the noise, they handled them with ease.

“I’ll take care of these things. The rest of you, go get those bastards!”

The bald man, reveling in the chaos, shouted.

“That guy… the bald one up front. Isn’t he from Filthy Crotches?”

At Sharhan’s comment, Abel narrowed his eyes at the bald man and exhaled sharply.

“Yeah. He’s probably Delos’s right-hand man. One of the ones who tried to buy your body, remember?”

“Yes. He and Delos were the most persistent.”

The bald man, now raving like a madman, was just as he’d been on the battlefield. Instead of being afraid of the charging corpses, he looked thrilled. He grinned, thick lips curling upward as he ran and swung his sword. Madness flickered in his eyes.

While the bald man and another with a spear handled the corpses, the remaining three started approaching. The way they twirled their weapons casually said everything, they thought this would be easy.

Abel clenched his teeth and gripped his sword, sensing there was no avoiding a fight. His knee, already troublesome since morning, throbbed with pain.

‘Damn, not the knee again.’

Regretting that he hadn’t listened to Sharhan’s warnings, Abel looked over the group. He knew Sharhan’s capabilities well, so no worries there, but the other two were a concern. He turned to Derry.

“Did Mage Derry say your magic was about beginner level?”

“Yes! And please, just call me Derry.”

“Alright. So, Derry, do you think you could take on one of them?”

“Uh… what?”

“Could you handle the archer? We need him tied down so it’ll be easier for us to deal with the rest.”

The archer, who had been acting relaxed before, now had an arrow nocked and aimed right at them. He seemed intent on keeping them pinned.

“I, I’ll try!”

“You’ve never attacked a person before, have you? Think you can do it? No, you have to. I wanted to kill him myself… but I’m counting on you.”

At Sharhan’s words, Derry licked his dry lips and nodded. He had fought moving corpses before, but never a human. Regardless of skill level, harming a person’s was a whole different kind of weight.

Even Sharhan had suffered nightly vomiting fits in the early days of battle. Despite what they’d been taught at the Academy, that killing enemies for the Empire and Emperor was their duty, it had shaken him. Of course he’d worry about Derry, who’d once lived peacefully in the secluded Luhas territory, dreaming of becoming an herbalist.

But the archer had to be restrained. There was no way they could fight with a lethal threat like that aimed at their backs.

“I’ll do it. I have to. It’s the only way we survive.”

Sharhan patted Derry’s shoulder with approval, then turned his gaze to Lestel. Lestel, still not fully free of that strange, unknown fear clouding his green eyes, was fidgeting with his injured ear before finally looking at Sharhan.

“Your heart?”

“Huh?”

“Your heart, does it still hurt?”

“It just twinged for a second when you got hurt. Nothing to worry about. More importantly, are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

Lestel, eyes troubled, stared at Sharhan’s chest before asking again.

“Can you kill a person? We’re going to have to kill them.”

Except for the bald one, he didn’t recognize the others, but judging by their actions, they were the same kind of scum as Filthy Crotches. That meant the only way to get out alive was to kill them, and showing mercy would only lead to trouble later.

They wouldn’t reflect on their sins and become new men. That kind of story didn’t apply to filth like them.

“Honey, do you still see me as that scared little kid who used to hide behind you?”

“Even if you’re bigger than me now, you’re still someone I have to protect. You’re the employer, I’m the hired hand. Come to think of it, with the Empire in ruins and no gold coins coming, I’m still stuck with the contract. Looks like I’m getting ripped off.”

While Sharhan grumbled, Abel, who had been deep in thought, spoke up.

“If Derry can handle the archer, that leaves five. Sharhan, you can take two, no problem, right? Handle the mustache and the blond. I’ll take the spear and axe. Once we take them down, we’ll deal with Baldy together. And Master Lestel, please stay well hidden.”

At Abel’s command, Lestel frowned.

“You want me to just sit and watch?”

“No. I want you to stay hidden so you don’t get taken hostage.”

Sharhan burst out laughing. It was clear Abel thought Lestel only looked capable and didn’t actually know how to fight. Sharhan patted Lestel on the shoulder.

“Yeah, just do what the captain says and hide.”

“Ha, do I look that weak to you?”

Lestel scoffed and brushed back his hair. When he saw Sharhan laughing so hard he could barely breathe, Abel realized he’d misjudged the situation and asked carefully,

“So… you can fight?”

“Did you already forget how you nearly got your head chopped off by Lestel’s axe yesterday? The mark’s still on your neck.”

Sharhan pointed to the thin scar still visible on Abel’s throat. Abel self-consciously rubbed the scabbed-over area.

“Still, that’s not the same as a real fight. He’s got the build, sure, but he’s a merchant lord.”

“And?”

“You said he’s into good looks. Didn’t he hire you as a guard because he didn’t want any ugly guys around?”

Clearly, what Abel meant was that rich, beauty-obsessed merchant types never actually knew how to fight.

“I hate to admit it… but he’s as good as me.”

“As good as you?”

“We hated each other’s guts, but we were rivals who competed at everything.”

Watching Lestel spin his axe, Abel muttered, “Guess he’s more than just a pretty face.” Then he gave his revised orders.

“Alright then, Sharhan takes two, the merchant lord takes two, and I’ll deal with the bald one. Sound good?”

They had just assigned targets when the enemy reached the store. The men didn’t rush. They strolled over like predators, eager to savor the sight of prey trembling in fear.

“Ho, you all look even better up close. Must be my lucky day. I was just on my way to bait a trap for the Central Road rats, and look what I stumbled on. A whole haul, plus that black-haired beauty? Lord Delos would love him. Probably pay big.”

“With the reward I’ll get when we go back, I’ll be partying for weeks. Let’s see… the silver-haired one’s got a punchable face, so toss him into the arena.”

“This bastard says anyone better-looking than him is annoying. Still, throwing him into the pit to fight corpses would be a good laugh. The small one’s not bad-looking either. He’d make a fine bed-warmer for the soldiers. Add these four to the ones we already picked up on the road and… what a payday–”

Sharhan didn’t bother letting them finish. He attacked first. His blade swung toward the mustached man, who stumbled back in surprise.

“What the hell?! He’s got fight in him! If he kicks around like that in bed, our Lord’s gonna piss himself in excitement!”

Sharhan said nothing. He simply kept attacking. He stabbed the mustached man’s shoulder and spun to slash at the blond’s side.

They were quick, but not formally trained. As they struggled to dodge Sharhan’s precise attacks, the first traces of panic appeared on their faces. They realized now, they’d picked the wrong fight.

“Archer!”

The mustached man shouted. An arrow flew. Sharhan dodged, but a sword brushed close to his forearm, slicing his sleeve. He clenched his teeth and continued his assault.

The archer was nocking another arrow. Derry, flustered, shouted an incantation.

“Fireball!”

He’d never cast one from that far before, so he was nervous, but it worked. The ball of flame erupted behind the archer and caught his hair.

“Aaaaagh!”

The fire spread quickly across his body. Screaming in agony, the archer rolled across the rooftop, flames devouring him.

With the archer no longer a threat, Sharhan’s attacks grew even more aggressive. While he fought his two targets, Lestel and Abel were locked in their own battles.

“Well, well! If it isn’t the leader and flower of the Red Wolves!”

The bald man recognized Abel and Sharhan and laughed.

“Hawk, long time no see.”

“Two Red Wolves in one day. The leader’s grown old, but the flower’s even prettier. The Lord will love him. Finally, we’ll get that proud Red Wolf Flower to spread his legs.”

“Shut your mouth. Still just as filthy and crude as ever, huh? You forget you never once beat us on the battlefield?”

Abel snarled back as he launched his attack. Their blades clashed with a sharp ring. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Sharhan caught a glimpse of movement – a strike to his side.

It was the mustached man.

Sharhan dodged, then slashed across his chest. This time, the man couldn’t avoid it. He dropped like a sack.

Sharhan didn’t pause. He turned immediately and drove his sword into the blond. Blood spurted as the tip of his blade tore out of the man’s arm.

Clutching his wound, the blond staggered back and looked around, clearly planning to run. But Sharhan wasn’t going to let him. He chased him down and cut deep across his back.

The blade went so deep the bone showed. When Sharhan pulled it free, blood sprayed like a fountain. The blond stumbled forward and collapsed, dead. His blood quickly soaked the ground.

Just as Sharhan turned to help Abel, concerned about his shaky footwork, he saw it – the bald man’s sword coming down toward Abel’s leg.

“Abel!”