From the "Moleman," Roy learned that every day at dusk, they burned a group of people alive as sacrifices to the god Rudra in the heavens.
This place was still more than a hundred kilometers away from Orario. A round trip would be well over three hundred kilometers. With only two or three hours left until dusk, there was no time to run back and call for reinforcements. Roy had no choice but to go alone.
If he hadn't known about this, Roy could have simply turned around and left. But now that he did know, turning a blind eye would leave a knot in his heart. He was an adult with a normal sense of right and wrong.
Roy returned to the caravan and explained everything. He received unanimous support.
When they heard it was about saving people, the younger guys immediately wanted to rush forward and follow Roy. It took the older guards knocking some sense into them with sword sheaths to stop them—trash like them would only be a burden if they went along.
"Mr. Roy, go without worry. We can handle this stretch of the road ourselves!" the fat man said solemnly.
The closer they got to Orario, the higher the level of safety.
On the outskirts of Orario were vast farmlands cultivated by familias such as Demeter Familia. To prevent the fields from being destroyed or plundered, basic defensive forces were stationed there.
To put it simply, other familias' adventurers were hired as guards—mostly members of Ganesha Familia.
If danger arose, they could ask those adventurers for help.
For the sake of Orario's economic development, Ganesha Familia would never allow caravans to be freely plundered.
They split into two groups. The caravan sped up toward Orario to gather reinforcements for Roy.
Roy, meanwhile, forcibly dragged the "Moleman" toward the enemy's main base. Guided by him, they entered the deep mountains, weaving through rugged, uneven paths.
After more than half an hour, a base constructed from mountain caves appeared before their eyes.
Roy cursed under his breath. It was hidden far too well.
This deep mountain forest served as a natural barrier. Without someone to guide the way, even sending hundreds of people to search for days and nights wouldn't necessarily uncover this place.
Roy lay down on the ground and rolled several times, smearing his clothes and face with dirt.
He planned to infiltrate the base together with the "Moleman."
With three Lv.2 survivors still at large, charging in directly would inevitably create a commotion and allow one or two of them to escape. Roy wouldn't allow that.
During the ritual, those three Lv.2s would definitely appear to show their reverence for the god Rudra.
This time, Roy intended to wipe them out completely.
Letting the "Moleman" walk ahead, Roy followed closely behind and said in a low voice, "Don't leave a five-meter radius around me. Otherwise, I'll kill you on the spot."
"Y-Yes! Yes! Yes!"
The "Moleman" nodded so hard his head left afterimages. He knew Roy wasn't joking—any strange move, and Roy would strike without mercy.
This was the ruthless man who had annihilated both their group and the Apollo Familia. At this distance, even a single second was enough for Roy to kill him three or four times over—
And then whip the corpse for good measure.
The two of them headed toward the main base.
At the entrance, out of more than a hundred men, only seven or eight had managed to flee back. They lay on the ground like remnants of a defeated army.
"Just who the hell was that brat?"
"He dared to charge straight at over a hundred of us by himself!"
"Don't even talk about it—he was a monster! Threw a spear from two hundred meters and killed two people!"
The bandits vented their lingering fear, the terror still etched on their faces.
"Come to think of it… he kind of looked like Sprout of Justice—"
Someone muttered weakly.
The moment those words were spoken, the surroundings fell deathly silent. A hint of horror appeared on many of the bandits' faces.
"Don't talk nonsense!"
"No way. Absolutely impossible!"
They tried to comfort themselves, yet their bodies trembled uncontrollably. Even facing Lv.3 or Lv.4 adventurers, they wouldn't necessarily be this afraid.
But being targeted by "Sprout of Justice"? Total annihilation was the baseline—the upper limit unknown.
What kind of decent person goes around causing mass casualties at the drop of a hat? This isn't about fighting and killing—this is about human relationships—
"Lov, you made it back alive too. That's great. Looks like we're all lucky."
"Yeah… we're all lucky—"
Roy and the "Moleman" appeared at the entrance, greeting everyone with lingering fear on their faces.
A burly man—also a remnant of the Rudra Familia, with Lv.1 strength—ground his teeth and said, "If that brat ever falls into my hands, I'll make him pay. I'll carve him up with the sharpest blade, a thousand cuts!"
Lov—the "Moleman's" real name—felt like crying. Brother, please stop talking. That killing god is standing right next to us!
Roy looked completely unconcerned. He even joined the bandits in criticizing that "killing god" who had attacked them, blending in perfectly.
Everyone was too shaken to notice this outsider at all.
After all, this was just a group hastily thrown together half a month ago.
People joined every day, and people left every day.
There was no sense of "companionship." They didn't remember who was around them. Seeing Roy, they simply assumed he was a newcomer brought back by the "Moleman."
"AAAAAAHHHHH—!"
A shrill scream suddenly drew everyone's attention.
They turned to look and saw a middle-aged man hanging upside down from a tree. A bandit who had just escaped back, his face twisted with violence, lashed him mercilessly with a barbed whip.
The screams rang out without end.
The surrounding bandits burst into laughter, cheering loudly. They didn't have the courage to lay a hand on "Sprout of Justice," so they vented their rage on these weak captives instead.
As everyone's attention was drawn to the torture, Roy secretly observed the situation inside the base.
The bandits used dense clusters of caves as their stronghold.
Some of the caves were fitted with iron bars, specifically used to imprison the people they had captured.
At a glance, there were about seventy or eighty people locked inside the caves. It looked like a lot, but even more had already died. In a large pit in the open area lay countless ashes—the remains of those previously burned alive as sacrifices.
Suddenly, Roy stopped in his tracks.
Inside one of the cages, he saw a somewhat familiar figure.
A half-elf with slender pointed ears and clear, emerald-green eyes.
Her brown, medium-length hair shone softly. Her beauty wasn't the sharp, flawless kind typical of elves, but rather a more gentle, naturally harmonious charm. She looked only a little over fifteen, her youthful face carrying a touch of innocence.
Eina Tulle?
Roy stepped closer and asked in a low voice, "What's the story with that brown-haired half-elf?"
The "Moleman" glanced over. "I heard she's a new Guild employee they recruited. She was traveling to Orario with a caravan and got wiped out by us the day before yesterday."
As he spoke, the "Moleman" carefully watched Roy, afraid of provoking his displeasure.
Roy, however, just looked a bit speechless.
So this was the butterfly effect?
They had wiped out the Rudra Familia, which led to the remnants occupying territory outside Orario.
Eina, who had just graduated from the School District and successfully been hired as a Guild staff member, ended up captured by these remnants halfway along the road.
This calamity should never have happened to her.