Chapter 12
“But, Young Master, that’s far too dangerous!”
“Then it’ll taste even better. You know the saying—the harsher the journey, the sweeter the fruit?”
“Is… is that really a saying?”
“If it wasn’t before, I just made it one. Anyway, lead the way.”
“Uuugh…”
“What’s scarier, bandits or me?”
“N-no, sir! Right away, I’ll guide you!”
Ram wore the face of a man being dragged to his death, but he moved to the front.
What choice did he have?
After all, just the fact that I’d caught him bad-mouthing me was enough to warrant a beating.
If all he had to do was guide me and nothing more, that was practically mercy.
Though honestly, I kind of want to see those bastards’ faces myself.
I couldn’t let thieves run wild in my own territory.
Who dares steal when every coin is precious?
“This way, the Bluefin patch starts here.”
“Ooh…”
As Ram said, it looked just like the Redfin berries, only colored a dark, almost blackish blue.
At first glance it seemed like it might taste bitter.
“So this is Bluefin…”
The Redfin berries were already sweet and delicious.
If these were sweeter and more fragrant…
Gulp.
My mouth watered. I reached out to pluck one when—
“Oh? We’ve got company?”
A coarse, mocking voice cut in out of nowhere.
“Eek…!”
Ram went pale the instant he saw the speaker.
A coward through and through—so what gave him the nerve to mouth off back at the tavern?
“…Who’s this clown?”
“Clown?”
I frowned slightly at the word and the man flinched.
He didn’t look strong: a bulging belly that was more fat than muscle, and his outfit was a mess—half-torn leather armor patched with random bits of plating obviously scavenged from who knows where.
Like a beaten soldier gone to seed.
Yet Ram trembled as if before a demon.
That told me plenty.
“So you’re the one occupying this Bluefin grove.”
“Y-yes, sir…”
Only one man had stepped out so far, but I could sense others behind him—five or six, maybe.
The bandit puffed himself up and barked, “Ha! And you are? Some stray mercenary?”
“Not a mercenary. Something like that.”
“Hah! Just one man? Boys! We have a guest!”
At his shout, five more scruffy figures emerged, all as ragged as their leader.
If this was their whole crew, no wonder they weren’t terrorizing an entire village. There had to be a bigger hideout somewhere.
“This is it?” I asked.
“Wh-what? Of course not! Counting all our men, we’ve got thirty!”
“Thirty? Sounds low.”
“Uh… make it fifty…”
“….”
“….”
Even his own gang seemed confused by the sudden inflation.
“Gasp! Their numbers doubled already? Young Master, we should retreat!”
“You believe that?”
“Well… I…”
“Honestly.”
Typical of a beggar’s county—their bandits were small-time too.
All told, maybe ten men roamed these hills.
Ten was no joke for a remote place like Errebel; the villagers wouldn’t dare fight back.
A little intimidation was enough to make the powerless grovel.
“Ehh…”
“…Young Master?”
My sigh made the thugs look at me more closely.
One suddenly pointed and shouted, “Hey! That’s Ian Impera—the useless noble brat!”
“What, that guy?”
“Yeah! I saw him smash a bottle over someone’s head last time!”
“Oh…”
Their leader’s eyes lit up like he’d found a chest of gold.
“Ha ha ha! Well, aren’t we lucky!”
“Lucky…?”
Normally people got nervous upon learning my name.
Instead, these fools looked thrilled.
“Boys! Today’s our payday. You know what a noble ransom is worth!”
“Heh! At least a hundred gold!”
“A hundred? Don’t be stupid. You think the Impera count’s heir comes cheap?”
“He’s the only son. We can get several hundred!”
“Several hundred gold!”
“…But I heard their family’s broke. Will they pay?”
“Count or not, they’ve got coin!”
I almost felt bad. Really, I don’t.
“With that we can buy a feast of meat!”
“Forget meat—we could start a real clan!”
They were already counting the ransom.
Sorry, but that’s not happening.
A quick glance told me everything: not a spark of aura, clumsy grips on their weapons—true small fry.
Dogs who didn’t even know they were dogs.
“So you plan to kidnap me?”
“Heh! What, thought we were joking?”
“I figured as much.”
“Uuh…”
Ram shivered like a leaf beside me, certain we were doomed.
“Hmm… not sure our family vault even has a few hundred gold.”
“Ha! As if nobles don’t have that much!”
“…And your tone’s been irritating from the start. Lost your mind from fear?”
Shing!
The leader drew his sword, the hilt slick with grime but the blade itself wickedly sharp.
“Come quietly and you won’t get hurt!”
“And if I refuse?”
“…What?”
“If I don’t come, what’ll you do?”
“Ha! You think you can take us all on alone?”
“Looks that way.”
“You little—!”
By now he should’ve sensed something was off, but anger blinded him.
One of his men whispered urgently, “Boss, maybe he’s stronger than he looks—broad shoulders…”
“Stronger? Don’t you know Ian Impera? A drunken brawler who can’t fight and hides behind his title!”
“Still… he seems awfully confident…”
“What, you think he’s an aura-user? Don’t be ridiculous!”
“…I mean, maybe not, but—”
I heard every word. They could at least whisper softer.
“Such foul mouths,” I muttered, and decided talking was a waste of time.
Step.
I started forward.
“Uh…?”
“Come on then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“You—!”
“Careful! If we kill the hostage he’s worthless!”
How considerate of them to worry about my ransom.
I advanced bare-handed.
To them I must’ve looked insane.
“Take him!”
The first to move swung a club as thick as my arm, iron wire wrapped around the end to tear flesh.
Two weeks ago I might have barely tracked it with my eyes. Not anymore.
The slow, clumsy overhead smash was easy to dodge with a side step.
“Huh?”
“What are you doing, idiot!” the leader shouted as his man hit nothing but air.
The thug reddened and raised the club again, but I wasn’t about to wait.
I made a fist and snapped my middle finger out—our so-called “nut-tap,” harmless in play but brutal when used right.
There.
I stepped in and flicked his shoulder lightly.
Crack.
A sharp pop as the small joint in his shoulder snapped.
Such a tiny bone, but once broken the arm goes limp—and the pain is excruciating.
“Aaaagh!”
He screamed like a newborn, rolling on the ground as if stabbed.
“What the—?!”
The others stared in disbelief.
All I’d done was tap him.
“Poral! Quit fooling around!”
“Ggghhh…”
It wasn’t a joke.
At last the rest realized I wasn’t to be taken lightly.
“Grr…”
“Anyone else want a turn?”
“N-nut… what?”
“Guess you don’t have that word here.”
“…He’s no pushover! No mercy!”
They tightened their grips on their shabby weapons—clearly stolen or scavenged.
“Die!”
So much for ransom. They lunged to kill.
Blades came from every side.
Even with my training I couldn’t just stand and take it.
I couldn’t use aura yet—so I simply wouldn’t get hit.
Whoosh!
Their strikes cut empty air.
“Wha—!”
Off balance, they exposed themselves.
I snapped a quick jab to a chin.
Thunk.
A satisfying crack.
I wasn’t trying to kill, just to sharpen my old instincts, striking pressure points with precision.
“Ugh…”
Even that light touch made the man crumple, eyes rolling as he collapsed face-first with a heavy thud.
“Gasp!”
Another thug, who moments ago threatened to kill me, now stumbled backward in panic.
Too late to run.
“Going somewhere?”
“W-wait! We can talk—”
Thunk!
Talk is for people, not trash.
The rest tried to flee, but I wasn’t about to let them.
A few quick blows and every bandit had their face planted in the dirt.
