"Hmph. What help could two fledglings who haven't even lost all their baby feathers be?"
It was clearly directed at Midiam and Ishmael.
"The merchants pay us money, but you lot are just tagging along for free without a single coin, aren't you? We absolutely don't work for nothing."
"What a harsh disposition. Fine, we'll back off."
Azadin began to put some distance between them and the armed merchants.
At that moment, a group that had been passing through the merchant convoy caught on to the situation and drew their weapons around Azadin's party.
"They don't seem to be on the same side as the merchant convoy…."
"Hey! You there!"
"Hand over everything you have and scram! Then we'll spare your lives!"
"Kuhuhuhu."
"..."
The armed merchants watched the scene unfold and smirked before hurrying along. Even after witnessing Azadin's group being attacked by bandits, they showed no interest, only concerned with getting to their destination.
"How heartless."
Azadin gave a wry smile as he watched the backs of the armed merchants.
"The girl's quite pretty, isn't she?"
"The boy's not bad either. Could fetch a high price."
The bandits, clearly underestimating Azadin's party, already saw them as prey in their grasp.
"If this happens even when traveling with me, how was it when you were on your own?"
"We traveled with the Peddlers' Guild."
Ishmael answered calmly.
"What should we do?"
"Hm, let's keep them alive and get some information while we're at it."
At Azadin's words, the bandits burst into laughter. There were six of them, while Azadin's group consisted of Midiam and Ishmael, who were still in their teens.
It was only natural that they were being underestimated—
—Thwack!
Azadin lightly kicked a stone off the ground, caught it midair, and swung it with both hands. Two of the bandits let out screams and collapsed, clutching their groins.
"Urgh?!"
"Kraack!"
"Y-you bastard!"
The startled bandits drew their weapons, but Midiam and Ishmael swiftly pulled daggers from their belts and threw them.
—Thwack!
The daggers struck a bandit's head and another's throat.
"Ghk?!"
"Argh!"
Two more bandits collapsed. In an instant, four were rendered unable to fight.
"I told you not to kill them."
"There are six of them, so killing two should be fine."
"Life is irreversible. Once dead, they can't come back."
Azadin spoke with a smile.
"We should maim them instead, give them a chance to turn over a new leaf."
"Well… I doubt they'd want that kind of chance."
Midiam questioned Azadin's peculiar take on respecting life.
"W-wait."
"P-please, spare us."
The remaining bandits, terrified by Azadin's words, threw down their weapons and surrendered.
"I said I wouldn't kill you."
"R-right… It's just… we used to be commoners."
"We fled west because of the drought. But there were no jobs, begging only went so far, so we had no choice but to become bandits. But isn't this too cruel? Are we supposed to just starve to death?"
"For people who supposedly had no choice, you sure had no problem trying to take these kids. If you were planning to sell them, that means you're dealing with slave traders."
Slavery was illegal everywhere in the Clan of the Eight Divine Kings. Even so, the slave trade was thriving.
To establish a connection with slave traders, one had to engage in banditry not just for survival, but in an organized, long-term manner.
"S-someone arranges it for us."
"There are rumors he's a spy for Count Lantarik, working to weaken Salasma…."
"Y-yeah, that's right!"
The bandits spilled information, but Midiam, looking annoyed, drew her sword.
"Azadin, what should we do? Should I cut off a few fingers?"
"Wait. Let's hear them out."
"There's nothing more to hear."
"That's not it… They're saying whatever they can to survive, but it doesn't seem like complete nonsense. Hey, where exactly is this supposed lackey of Count Lantarik?"
"Well… Over there."
"If you go down into the basin, there's an old logging village. He's staying there. It's about a day's walk from here."
"There's a fork in the road. Go north there, then when you reach a four-way intersection, head west."
"Hm, what do you think, Ishmael?"
"The direction and distance match."
Ishmael instantly understood Azadin's intent from his gaze and confirmed it.
"Alright. Then why don't you guide us to your slave traders?"
"Huh?"
"You said you have someone you sell slaves to, right? Take us to them."
"W-what? We already gave you directions!"
"I want to go as a customer. If I say I want to buy a woman, they'll understand."
"B-but…."
The bandits hesitated. If they led him to their hideout, they could try to ambush this cocky bastard there. However, it would also mean admitting their failure in front of their peers.
'We'll be mocked and ridiculed for losing to someone like this.'
'But if we refuse….'
They glanced at the condition of their fallen comrades, grimacing. The ones who had been struck in the groin had blood soaking their pants. They had been castrated.
"F-fine, we'll take you."
***
The bandits' hideout was deep in the forest within the basin. One of the tributaries of the Kora River ran through the forest, keeping the basin humid, with moss growing on tree trunks.
While the inland eastern region suffered from drought, this place was damp with moss. But the forest was dense and shadowy, making it an ideal location for an ambush.
"This is a good place for an ambush. If we'd come without a guide, things would've been troublesome."
"But insisting on buying slaves?"
Midiam and Ishmael finally understood why Azadin had brought the bandits as guides and shook their heads in exasperation.
"Shh, be quiet. They're coming."
The bandits finally revealed themselves in the forest. They had their bows drawn and aimed at Azadin's group, but with their level of skill, there was no way they could shoot without risking hitting the bandits Azadin had brought along.
"What the hell are these guys?"
"You have a Naga woman captured, don't you? I want to buy her."
"..."
The bandits were flustered by Azadin's demand. However, one who seemed to be of a higher rank silenced the others and glared at the captured bandits.
"Hey, what the hell is this?"
"T-that is… just as he said."
"He says he wants to buy a Naga woman."
"How the hell does he know we have a Naga woman? Are they Nagas too?"
The bandits deliberately ignored Azadin's party and muttered among themselves.
"Hmph. I'd appreciate it if you'd decide whether you're selling or not. You lot don't seem to understand how to properly welcome a guest."
"Don't be ridiculous, you bastard!"
One of the bandits, holding a bow, pulled back his bowstring.
"If you shoot, you die."
"You're full of shit!"
The bandit released the arrow. In that instant, Azadin lowered his body, explosively kicking off the ground and closing the distance in a flash. He grabbed the bandit's hair.
"I said you'd die if you shot, didn't I? I take that back. You won't die."
"Huh?!"
—Thwack!
Azadin yanked the bandit's head down and struck his face with his fist in a sweeping motion. Blood and flesh splattered onto the underbrush.
"Gasp?!"
"Ugh!"
Azadin's fist tore through the bandit's face as if it were the tip of a spear. One of his eyes was ripped out, and his nose was obliterated. The bandit let out a wailing scream.
"Aaaaaagh!"
"If you live out the rest of your days in pain, maybe you'll have a chance to atone."
"..."
"Hah…."
Azadin took the quiver from the injured bandit and swung it. The arrows inside spilled out onto the ground at Midiam and Ishmael's feet.
"To break their spirits, kill half of them."
"Yes."
"Got it."
Midiam and Ishmael drew their Moon Horn Bows and notched arrows.
"You bastards!"
The bandits tried to retaliate, but Azadin shoved the bloodied bandit into them and lunged forward, stretching out his hands.
—Crack!
—Crunch!
Like horses kicked in the face, two bandits were sent flying, their faces caved in and their ribcages crushed.
And then—
—Swish!
Midiam and Ishmael's arrows started to fly. Though the bandits had superior numbers, they were instantly pushed onto the defensive.
"Ghk?!"
"T-these bastards!"
"N-no! They're from the Herald Clan!"
The moment Midiam and Ishmael started shooting, the bandits finally realized Azadin's group's identity.
"The… Herald Clan?"
"Oh, no."
"It's too late!"
Ishmael fired an arrow straight at the face of the bandit who had been leading the negotiation. At that moment, Azadin snatched the arrow midair, stopping it from piercing the bandit's face.
"Huh?!"
"We've passed half."
Azadin, who had been keeping count of the deaths, saw that their numbers had dropped below half and stopped the slaughter.
"But as long as it's not lethal, it should be fine."
Azadin drove the arrow he was holding into a bandit's eye and pulled it out.
"Aaaaaagh!"
The bandit screamed and collapsed, writhing on the ground.
"M-my god."
"This is the Herald Clan!"
The bandits who had guided Azadin's group trembled in horror.
There had been twelve bandits standing guard. They had believed that with such numbers, they could easily overwhelm and subdue any intruder.
But in the blink of an eye, six were dead, and two others had their faces mutilated, rendered permanently blind or one-eyed.
"Well, that concludes the lesson. Now, go tell your boss that I'm here to buy a Naga woman."
"..."
The bandits shuddered at the brutal sight before them.
A surprise attack to overwhelm a far larger force was one thing, but this? Most of these bandits were originally farmers—refugees who had turned to banditry because of the drought. Compared to trained warriors, they were bound to be weaker.
But after crushing them so effortlessly, to then call it "education" and deliberately ease up? How much confidence did this man have?
***
Bandit King Doneor couldn't comprehend the massacre before his eyes. He was seeing it, but his brain refused to process what had happened.
"What the hell is going on?"
"T-they're from the Herald Clan."
The utterly terrified bandits, completely overwhelmed, cowered before Doneor like dogs caught in the rain.
"The Herald Clan? What business do they have here?"
When Doneor asked, Azadin stepped forward.
"There's a Naga woman here. I'm here to buy her."
"You're… here to buy her?"
"Normally, I wouldn't do business with slave traders. But slaughtering all you refugees seems a bit too cruel. So I'll offer a fair price."
"..."
Such an utterly arrogant statement.
This was something only a man who had absolute confidence in his ability to decide the fate of all the bandits here could say.
And yet—
'They're completely broken.'
Just by looking at the bandits' expressions, Doneor could see that they would rather give away all their gold than fight this Herald Clan group.
'I'm different from these peasant bandits. I'm a warrior. And my subordinates are warriors too.'
Among Doneor's forces were operatives planted by Count Lantarik. They were trained warriors, fundamentally different from mere farmers.
'Sure, he crushed these farmers with overwhelming force, but could he do the same against real warriors?'
Just as Doneor was pondering this—