Chapter 17 : The road to capital (3)

The ecology of bandits was more diverse than one might expect.

One might assume that bandits primarily made their living by pillaging villages, but doing so would inevitably provoke retaliation from the cities, which would send mercenaries after them.

Instead, bandits sought more sustainable ventures—assassinations, smuggling, arson, loan sharking, and so on.

With so many high-profit, low-risk options available, why would anyone fixate on simple pillaging?

Lorenzo of Gilead, the leader of the Red Stallion Brotherhood, had realized this truth early on.

And so, wasn’t it only natural that opportunities like this would come his way?

“C-Captain Lorenzo, the Elder has arrived.”

“So soon? 

Tell the men to keep their damn eyes down and stay out of sight. 

Just thinking about the trouble we went through last time burying those dead fools makes me sick.”

Lorenzo sternly ordered his subordinates to be cautious.

The first time the Elder had visited, six of his men had been left with their limbs crushed and their bodies mutilated.

He had thought they were all doomed back then, but now, he felt like meeting the Elder had been a stroke of luck.

Stepping out of the tent, Lorenzo immediately recognized the familiar silhouette and hurried over.

“Lorenzo, it’s been a while.”

“This humble servant greets the Elder!”

The Elder was a woman draped in a black robe.

Even Lorenzo himself had never seen her face. 

The robe seemed to have some special property, casting a shadow that concealed her features.

But that wasn’t important.

“The task I assigned you is going well, I assume? 

Surely you haven’t failed to capture a mere girl after I even provided you with her route?”

“Kishishi, don’t worry. 

I sent nine riders on swift horses. 

There’s no way they’ll fail to capture a single girl. 

So, about our deal…”

“Yes. 

Bring her to me, and I swear upon my name that I will grant you the power I promised.”

Hearing this, Lorenzo struggled to suppress his laughter.

‘Power! If I can obtain magical power, I’ll be able to play in a much bigger league!’

He didn’t care in the slightest why the mage wanted the girl.

If he could receive even a fraction of the power that allowed her to tear people’s limbs off with a flick of her finger, he would gladly deliver not just one girl, but dozens.

Just as Lorenzo straightened up, preparing to escort the mage inside—

Fwoosh!

“What the hell?”

A fireball came hurtling toward the back of his head.

Startled by the sudden heat, Lorenzo turned around—only to be even more shocked by what he saw.

“…Shit, a burning head?!”

A fireball, fueled by a human head as kindling.

The sheer absurdity of the attack made Lorenzo freeze in place.

In the split second that he hesitated, the fireball closed in on him.

“How boring.”

The mage raised a finger, pointing at the incoming fireball.

It stopped midair, just inches from incinerating Lorenzo’s face.

Sizzle—

With a flick of her finger, the flames vanished, revealing the unrecognizable remains of a charred head.

The mage tossed the head to the ground and gave Lorenzo a new order.

“It seems we have company. Send your men to search the area—”

“There’s no need for that.”

“?”

A voice rang out from above, like a divine proclamation from the heavens.

Lorenzo, the mage, and the bandits all instinctively looked up.

A blazing crimson comet, as if forged from the sun’s very fragments, was hurtling toward them.

“Repent, all of you.”

No, it wasn’t a comet.

It was Joanna’s sword, carving a brilliant crimson arc through the air as it descended upon the earth.

Dantalion made an important realization that day.

‘Joanna… 

Once she goes on a rampage, there’s no stopping her.’

Using a criminal’s head to conjure a fireball? 

That was fine.

Dismembering and desecrating the corpses of sinners? 

Given the era they lived in, that was a borderline acceptable practice.

But who could have predicted that, the moment she drew attention, she would leap straight into the sky?

“Joanna, think of it as unleashing your power—strike the ground with your sword.”

“Yes!”

Of course, that was precisely what Dantalion was there for—to support her.

He waited for the moment Joanna’s sword met the ground.

BOOM—!

It was as if a massive boulder had fallen from the sky. 

A small earthquake rippled through the land.

The bandits stared at Joanna in dumbfounded silence. 

They had never even imagined an enemy could drop down from the sky.

Not that it would have mattered even if they had reacted faster.

The energy imbued in Joanna’s sword was already surging through the ground, ready to explode.

The mage, assessing the situation, grabbed a nearby bandit and used him as a human shield.

KRA-KOOM!!!

In an instant, the earth and stone melted into molten slag, releasing a wave of searing heat.

The explosion sent shrapnel flying, shredding through buildings and bandits alike.

A scene of pure catastrophe, wrought by a single warrior.

Joanna wrenched her greatsword from the ground and scanned the area, remaining on high alert.

“You bitch! 

Not only did you ambush us, but you turned my goddamn camp into a fucking disaster zone!?”

It seemed the leader of the bandits was stronger than the average grunt.

Emerging from the dust and heat, Lorenzo lunged at Joanna, swinging his axe toward her neck.

CLANG—!

Lowering her stance, Joanna deflected the axe with her greatsword.

Sparks erupted as their weapons clashed, their eyes locking in a brief moment of battle-readiness.

Then, Joanna suddenly slammed her shoulder into him.

“Guh!?”

The impact landed perfectly.

Lorenzo staggered back, coughing up blood, his ribs fractured.

His entire body tingled as if struck by lightning. 

His grip weakened, and his axe slipped from his fingers.

A sufficient distance had opened between them. 

The greatsword, soaring as if to cleave the heavens, cast its shadow over Lorenzo.

“That’s why muscleheads are so—”

“Uwah?!”

Just before Lorenzo was cleaved in two, an invisible force yanked him away.

Clicking her tongue, Joanna grimaced. 

Unlike the other grunts, this one had some skill.

As the dust settled, Joanna and the mage locked eyes.

“My name is Velma.

But… you don’t seem to be the girl I’m looking for.

Who are you?”

“I have nothing to say to a criminal… 

Auntie.”

Since when was Joanna so good at provoking people?

Velma’s aura surged violently, as if her most sensitive nerve had been struck.

“What… 

Did you just call me?”

“Is it wrong to call an auntie an auntie? 

If you’re not an auntie, then why are you reacting to the word—”

“SHUT UP!!!”

If the way to make friends is by understanding people, then the way to make enemies must be the opposite.

Velma had no intention of holding back from the start. 

Forming a series of complex hand seals, she began chanting a spell.

The shoulder section of her robe rippled as two blue arms sprouted from her back.

But that wasn’t enough. 

Clearly, she favored close-quarters combat—shouldn’t she have at least one frontline fighter?

“Lorenzo, I’ll grant you the power I promised.”

“Thank you!”

Shlup!

Velma’s blue arm pierced Lorenzo’s heart.

His face froze in a mix of awe and shock as blood spurted from his lips.

Wait… wasn’t she supposed to fulfill an oath made in her own name?

“I said I’d give you power. 

I never said how.”

For a moment, the shadows under Velma’s hood almost seemed to be smiling.

Lorenzo collapsed as the magic burned through his life force and reason, transforming him into—

CRACK!

“Who said I’d let you finish?”

“You cheating little—?!”

There was a reason the saying “betrayed by your own axe” existed.

Like a loyal hound, Lorenzo’s own axe buried itself into his skull.

A flawless throw, aimed directly at the opening.

With the battlefield reduced to a one-on-one, Joanna lunged forward.

Velma, having lost her frontline fighter, retreated, swinging her blue arms at Joanna.

“Crush her!!”

Earthen pillars erupted from all sides, aiming to impale Joanna.

But she remained calm. 

She trusted Dantalion, the one who had chosen her.

“Push off the pillar behind you on the right to escape.”

Following the instruction, Joanna drove her greatsword into the pillar, adjusting her strength precisely.

Using the embedded sword as a foothold, she launched herself skyward.

Just as hellfire began to ignite at the tip of her blade—

“Begone!”

An unseen force slammed into her body mid-air.

Blood dripped from her nose, and red veins crept into her eyes.

Joanna, still poised to swing, plummeted toward the ground.

Velma smiled in triumph.

Just as she moved to finish the job—

Shhhk!

Crimson chains erupted from the ground, binding her arms.

Like parasitic roots, the chains drained her strength, growing heavier with each passing second.

For a mage specializing in hand seals, this was the worst possible scenario.

She hurriedly began chanting, but—

Too late.

Fwoosh!

Joanna twisted mid-fall, adding momentum to her swing.

Her greatsword, heavier than her own body, carried her through the air.

Schrrk—!

Reversing her motion like a guillotine, she cleaved through Velma’s blue arms.

Blood—both red and blue—splattered as the severed limbs tumbled to the ground like discarded trash.

Velma collapsed, knees sinking into the pooling blood.

She bit back a scream, gasping for breath.

Joanna stood over her, silhouetted against the sun.

With a bloodied greatsword, she sliced away Velma’s hood.

“…So you really are an auntie.”

Spurt!

The blood from her severed limbs spilled in response to the insult.

Joanna leveled her sword at Velma’s throat.

“Tell me why you attacked Miss Emily, and I’ll make your death painless.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Velma spat blood at Joanna.

With an easy sidestep, Joanna avoided it.

She pressed the burning edge of her sword to Velma’s face.

“Pain is the only mercy I can grant you.”

“Crazy bitch.”

Where did she get the audacity to act so bold even now?

At that moment, Emily timidly stepped out of the forest, face ashen.

“Hiiiik?! 

T-There are so many corpses…!”

“Miss Emily, if you’re uncomfortable, you don’t have to come closer.”

“B-But being alone is even scarier!”

Apparently, she wasn’t immune to corpses yet.

Her legs gave out, and she crawled forward like a frightened puppy.

She fumbled with an old book, flipping hurriedly through the pages before pointing at a passage.

[Those who seek transformation—They grant their priests special arms imbued with power…]

“T-This is a record my church’s priest gave me! 

She’s definitely a follower of an evil god!”

“A follower of an evil god, huh…”

“Heh… 

Hehahahaha!!”

Had she finally accepted her fate?

Velma cackled, bloodshot eyes gleaming.

Her laugh was not one of resignation, but of mockery.

“You think killing me will change anything? 

It’s already too late. 

Our plan has long since begun.”

“So you’ve finally decided to cooperate?”

“You fool.

Do you think I’d ever betray my god?”

Having shed all earthly attachments, Velma lifted her head with unwavering faith.

Why did zealots never fear death?

“I return to my god’s embrace. 

I do not fear death.”

“Hmm.”

Joanna scratched her cheek, looking unimpressed.

Velma, of course, had no way of understanding what that meant.

Joanna raised her sword one last time.

“Are you sure you won’t regret dying?”

“Ha! 

Mock me all you want. 

In my god’s paradise, I will await your death.”

Well, if she was so sure.

With a swift stroke, Joanna beheaded Velma.

Her head hit the ground, still wearing a defiant smile.

Joanna stared at it for a moment, then turned to Petit Dantalion.

“Did she really go to her god?”

“Not a chance.”

Dantalion scoffed.

Neither demons nor angels ever claimed to be gods.

They served the true Creator—not some self-proclaimed deity.

Unless immense power had been spent to ascend her into a demi-god, Velma was definitely headed for hell.

By now, she was probably enjoying Infernal Lava Spa Treatment #1.

“I’ll extract what I can from her mind. 

In the meantime, go set up camp.”

How long could Velma’s spirit endure?

She was devout enough to reject the fear of death.

Would she last a whole day?

Dantalion suddenly found himself curious.