It was exactly noon.
The harsh light pierced through the shadows of the trees, blinding. Silas had only ever seen primordial jungles on television.
"So hot, and so many bugs, damn it!"
"How do these guys even endure this?"
"..."
The men in the team were dragging the corpses of bandits out of stone pits.
Ants and insects were visible everywhere.
From Silas's observation, the bandits—who hid in stone caves half-buried underground and half above—had special incense or something similar to repel insects. But their main reliance was likely the large water vats in front of them.
Ribbit~
There were many frogs inside.
"..."
Silas really didn't want to laugh.
But thinking about dozens of malnourished bandits guarding a vat of frogs, hoping they would keep the bugs away, was hard to resist.
"Say, young man, don't you feel anything when you're bitten? I don't see any bumps on you."
The bald man slapped a cluster of mosquitoes on his wrist and asked curiously.
"Uncle Baldy, I just have a high pain tolerance."
Silas felt a slight itch. But after increasing his Constitution, he seemed better able to mitigate various negative sensations like pain. Itchiness must fall under negative sensations too, so it was weakened as well.
"Heh, a tough kid... you look like you have delicate skin, but you must have suffered quite a bit, eh?"
The bald felon sighed. It seemed he remembered something, as the look he gave Silas became more grandfatherly.
"..."
On the way there, Silas had heard that the Count had sent people to exterminate the bandits before, but they didn't finish the job, allowing them to escape into these woods. Occasionally, they came out to harass merchant caravans passing on the main road. It wasn't that the Count lacked the ability to do it; he just felt it wasn't cost-effective after an appraisal, or perhaps the merchants hadn't given him enough kickbacks. So he didn't bother.
"You're quite efficient, unlike some people who have already started vomiting."
The bald man looked disdainfully at Fiona's great-great-grandson.
"..."
Out of the dozens of bandit corpses, Silas had probably only killed one. He didn't even need to act for the others.
They certainly couldn't lug all these bodies back; burning most and cutting off a couple of heads as proof was enough.
Barf...
Fiona's great-great-grandson had put in some effort during the fight. He probably killed a few. But dealing with these bandits, whose faces were pitted with bug bites, was clearly too disgusting for him to handle. It was hot, and the corpses rotted quickly. He vomited uncontrollably.
So.
Silas thought back—the Lord really didn't care about his swordsmanship at all. He just wanted him to gain some credit, have an excuse for a promotion, and please the Princess in the process?
Why did this feel like a sense of deja vu with Dorothy?
She wanted to have him, then have him climb high through the noble ladies.
The Lord wanted to use his sex appeal to hook the Princess...
Damn it.
Charisma could truly make people have such "profitable" ideas. For a moment, Silas didn't know if it was a good or bad thing. Fortunately, so far, he hadn't found any situation where he was being hit on by men because his Charisma was too high.
Wait, the Fiona descendant next to him had been trying to become sworn brothers with him...
"Alright."
"Let's cut off... mmh, just the heads of these two minor leaders. I'll do it. No need for you youngsters to have nightmares tonight."
The felon uncle was quite considerate of his juniors and picked up a corpse's head.
Squish!
Blood splattered. One could clearly see the bloody trachea.
Gag!
Fiona's descendant vomited again.
"..."
Silas just watched silently. He probably wasn't gay. That guy even said he had stolen a Goddess's underwear; his sexual orientation was normal. Whatever, he didn't plan on adding more Charisma for the time being anyway.
As for the bloody scene before him.
Silas actually felt a tiny bit of discomfort. But only because he realized this was reality and these were real people dying. It wasn't that the visuals were too much to handle.
He wouldn't look away because of it.
Mmh.
This is just how the era is, right?
There was no need for a trial; if the nobles said the bandits must die, they must die. There was no need to feel any guilt. Just looking at the women's clothing left in the cave and the blood-stained gold and silver treasures they had stolen—they deserved to die.
"Look at you, big and burly, but so cowardly?"
"Pfft, not even as good as this pretty groom..."
"..."
Someone in the team mocked the descendant.
The felon gave him the heads wrapped in cloth.
"Hold them. Aren't you a knight?"
"Ah... th-this is no big deal!"
"..."
Next, all that was left was to wait for them to burn the rest of the piled corpses. Then go back to report.
"Yo, big bro... did you see that just now? This group of bandits also steals women's underwear."
The descendant, holding the heads, tried hard not to look at the blood seeping from his arms. He struck up a conversation.
"...They must have captured some commoner women and done unspeakable things to them. There are many nail marks scratched into the stone walls."
"Exactly! They all deserve to die!"
"...Want me to hold them for a while?"
"Why? It's just a couple of heads. Back when I was a knight, I carried heads all the time."
"Is that so?"
Silas noticed the man's legs had already started shaking.
He sat quietly.
The shadows of the trees swayed, the sun was temporarily covered by clouds, and the brutal temperature eased slightly.
"Hey! This one doesn't seem to have stopped breathing!"
"..."
He heard the felons burning the corpses speaking.
"That's not right... everyone's throat was slit again to make sure, how can he still move?"
"Maybe he was hiding somewhere and tried to play dead among the corpses?"
"Wait! B-Behind you... he's s-standing up!"
"..."
Silas and the trembling man holding the heads looked at each other, then turned their gaze toward the sound.
The scene in the woods was far too familiar to him.
Twisted limbs, eye sockets with only the whites showing. Even with a hole in his belly leaking blood mixed with stomach acid, he could move.
"Big bro... are we... seeing ghosts?"
Fiona's descendant couldn't hold the heads steady. One rolled to Silas's feet. Those pale, dead eyes stared right at him.
"..."
More and more appeared.
The corpses that had definitely been finished off were climbing up one by one.
"Groom! And that knight! Run!"
Uncle Baldy was the first to react, shouting urgently.
It was almost dark.
The knights and guards who had hurried out from Count Flores's territory had arrived.
They found Silas's team outside the woods.
"Where is the groom who was with you?"
"..."
The young knight, who was Elisa's subordinate and had been humiliated by Silas before, asked sternly.
"..."
The head of the knight order representing the nun didn't speak. In any case, his purpose was the same as Elisa's subordinate: to bring the groom back to the Lord's mansion; there was no need to fight over him here. But looking at the group, everyone was drenched in sweat and deathly pale, which felt strange.
What could have scared them like this? Surely they couldn't fail to handle mere bandits?
"The g-groom is dealing with the bandits' corpses."
Someone replied with their head down.
"Why aren't you helping?"
The young knight frowned.
"..."
Everyone being watched hung their heads, silent. Some of their hands had already started shaking.
Step.
Just as the young knight was about to dismount and personally go into the woods to find Silas.
"Why are there suddenly so many people?"
Silas had already come out. He was leading a tightly bound living corpse by his side.
"I am here by the order of Highness Elisa to take you back for a meeting."
"..."
Oh.
Could it be she was worried about him after getting the news? That was nice.
Then, what about the Church's knights?
"I am also here by the order of the Arch-Nun to take you back to the Lord's mansion for a meeting."
"..."
What business did the Church have to discuss with him?
"Forget it. You came just in time, there's something wrong with the bandits... just take this one back with you."
Silas pushed the struggling living corpse.
"...What is this thing?"
The knights and guards couldn't have failed to notice. The bandit had obvious fatal wounds on his throat, ribs, and heart. He was still bleeding.
Yet he was full of life, showing signs of breaking out of the clothes binding him to bite people at any moment.
Even the horses they sat on seemed a bit afraid of this thing, tossing their heads and refusing to get close.
"No idea. Anyway, he revives after dying; only burning him to ash kills him completely."
Silas waved his hand.
He knew exactly what it was, since they were old friends in the game. But what did it have to do with him in reality?
Let's go back.
He'd done quite a bit today; surely he wouldn't have to watch the horses? He'd haggle with the Lord first, then go find the Princess. He had decided to cling to the Princess's white silk feet for now. Whether the deepening relationship would become more troublesome, he'd find out after a few more tastes. Besides, it's not like it couldn't turn into a pure romance.
If she was even half as cute as in the game, marrying into the family or being a live-in husband wasn't out of the question. Silas didn't care about the stigma.