Chapter 290 - Duty and Responsibility (2)

["A commission! I'll commission you!"] The rain had stopped, but the air remained damp. Clammy, sticky sweat made waking each morning an unpleasant affair. By lunchtime, it was worse. Once the sun rose overhead, a creeping heat joined the dampness. Amid the damp midday sunlight, the discomfort and sweat, the village chief's desperate cry cut through the heavy, clinging air. ["I'll pay whatever you ask!"] The apparent bandit leader snorted derisively, as if daring them to try him. When the mercenary captain gave no answer, the village chief's face crumpled. He looked ready to cry. ["Please."] Several of the tense villagers looked pleadingly toward the mercenaries. Still, no answer came. The captain swallowed a low hum of deliberation. 'He's not taking it?'

Encrid looked toward the captain as well. They had finished their original commission that morning. All the mercenary company had to do was leave. Then a sharp-eyed mercenary had sensed someone watching and caught a bandit scouting the village. Without even being interrogated, the bandit had revealed his gang's location and numbers. They weren't a notorious band, but there were a lot of them. A hundred or more, roughly. Between all the villagers and the entire mercenary company, they could muster barely more than thirty fighters at best. They were outnumbered more than two to one. The mercenary captain agonized over the decision. ["Mercenaries sell their swords for gold. We don't fight without a commission. This wasn't part of our original commission, either. You're not asking for a job. You're asking to be saved. We don't owe you that much."] For a mercenary, he was loyal and a decent enough man. As mercenary captains went, he truly was. And so his choice was reasonable. He had no reason to risk his life fighting here. ["Wise choice."] The bandit leader inwardly sighed with relief. Why wouldn't he? If those mercenary bastards came at them in earnest, his gang would have to accept casualties. However well they fought, more than ten of his men would die. No, more than twenty. Their captain looked like a formidable fighter, too. Winning was one thing; the losses were another. Otherwise, he would have wiped them all out long ago. In the first place, if his scout hadn't been caught, they would have waited until the mercenary company left before starting. ["Let him go."]

At the captain's command, a mercenary released the captured bandit. ["How can you do this?"]

["You're killing us all!"]

["Please!"]

["Why!"]

["We'll give you everything we have! We have jewels, too!"] The villagers shouted. One tried to cling to a mercenary's trouser leg, but never had a chance. THUD! ["Come any closer and I'll cut you down."]

One of the mercenaries spoke with murderous menace. He sounded as though he wouldn't hesitate to use his blade. In truth, merely refraining from joining the bandits and splitting the village's wealth was enough for the mercenaries to have done right by their employers. The mercenary captain was wise. ["Enough. Come any closer and we'll draw our weapons, too. All of you, back away."] The captain quickly brought the situation under control. He drew his mercenaries off to one side while the bandits watched impassively. Encrid was caught between them. He, too, had come as part of the mercenary company. He could simply leave. But as he idly turned his eyes, he caught sight of the audacious little girl. The crazy little brat who said she'd leave the village in three years and become an herb gatherer. ["Mister, go."] What an audacious child. She should have been begging for her life, yet her eyes were searching her surroundings. Even then, she waved him off with the back of her hand. She hadn't given up. She must have been looking for a way to escape. Encrid had faced plenty of bandits. He had no shortage of experience. So he knew. They would all die. Adding his own strength would change nothing. Did that mean he shouldn't help? Should he, too, turn a blind eye and walk away? Was he to abandon what he'd wanted to protect? What was a knight? 'What was it I wanted?' What if he turned away here? What if he ignored them? He could do nothing. How many times had he merely watched because he wasn't skilled enough? Was he to do the same again? He didn't know. He had turned away before, deliberately averted his eyes despite knowing what would happen. Why did this time catch so painfully in his chest? ["Hey, let's go."] A mercenary tapped his shoulder from behind. He had an ugly scowl but a warm heart. The sort who had been helping the villagers with their chores. Yet he had no hesitation about turning away. That was a basic quality for anyone who lived by the blade on this continent. Few men went looking for a place to die. Anyone who stood his ground knowing he would die was a true fool. Especially if he did it not for gold, but for some audacious romantic notion of protecting the weak. 'They'll probably call me crazy.' He knew without being told. And yet he couldn't turn away. If he took a step back here, if he turned a blind eye even to this, he would never be able to move forward again. That was how he felt. ["Hey."] Had he only survived this long because the goddess of luck had taken pity on him? Still, he didn't think she'd ever gone so far as to kiss him. If she was going to help, she could have showered him with luck. What a ridiculous thought. PITTER-PATTER. SHHHHH.

Rain poured down once more. ["Enkie, you little shit."] The mercenary captain was angry. What he said next stayed with Encrid for a very long time. ["They won't die. They won't die even if we leave them! Why kill a group this big? Would you kill people when there's nothing in it for you? Are you some kind of sick bastard? They won't kill them. They won't! At worst, they'll sell them to a slave trader. They'll be better off as slaves!"] Life in the swamp village offered little beyond mere survival. But that didn't mean slavery was better. ["I was going to let you join our company, you stupid bastard."] The captain withdrew. There was nothing else he could do. They weren't close enough for him to beat the stubbornness out of Encrid and drag him away, nor was it his place to meddle that far. Besides, the man was only a guide with some skill at swordplay, not some extraordinary talent. Just a truly stupid bastard. An idiot who couldn't see what was right in front of him. ["Why?"]

The village chief stared at him in bewilderment. The question came before gratitude, born of sheer disbelief. ["See the third man to the left of the one out front?"]

["Mm, yes, I see him."]

["I have a blood feud with him."] In truth, he'd never seen the man before. At the mention of a blood feud, the bandit blinked. He studied Encrid's face. He didn't think he'd forget seeing someone who looked like that. ["Are you from that mining village?"] Encrid had no idea what he meant, but nodded. ["Fuck. So one of you bastards actually survived."] Apparently, these men went around committing atrocities in plenty of places besides this one. Then he could kill them all. He might die before he managed it, but first he had to steel his heart and make his determination firm. ["Really?"]

The village chief whispered in his ear. ["No. I was joking."]

["... Are you mad?"] Encrid let out a chuckle. He'd already decided to fight. What did the reason matter? The chief was so dumbfounded that he didn't even think to stop the departing mercenaries. ["That bastard isn't our responsibility," ] the mercenary captain said. ["He's staying alone?"] the bandit leader asked. The mercenary company withdrew. But two of the mercenaries turned back. ["Goddamn it, what the hell is wrong with you?"]

["Ger?"]

["I'm staying. I can't get this bastard out of my mind. If things go bad, I'll have to grab him and run."]

["You son of a bitch. If that's the plan, I should be the one staying."]

["Pitt, you too?"]

["He's like a little brother to me. I can't help worrying."] The captain's brow furrowed. Deep down, he wanted to stay, too, but that would get the entire company slaughtered. He declared that those two were the last, and anyone else who wanted to stay could leave the company. That was all. Ger and Pitt. Two mercenaries stayed. ["I'm older than you, though?"] Encrid addressed Pitt, and the ugly, heavy-lidded swordsman who liked children replied. ["Going by our faces, I'm your elder by years."] Encrid laughed. Though they had only known him for a month or so, these two mercenaries simply couldn't turn away. Then Encrid drew his sword and stood in the bandits' path. ["Mister, are you crazy?"] The little girl asked. She would be lucky merely to be sold into slavery. Judging by the fucking bastards who had been ogling her with those dog-dick eyes, no pleasant future awaited her. ["Fallen for him, kid? When a man's fighting, the polite thing to do is watch."]

Ger stepped forward to answer the child's question. ["What's he talking about?"]

The child didn't pay him the slightest attention. ["Halfway."]

Encrid gave a casual answer to her question about his sanity and raised his sword. In any case, it was madness. Did he stand to gain anything by protecting them? No. Would throwing himself into this shit earn him a medal? Not a chance. The kingdom's nobles wouldn't even know this was happening. They would be too busy lining their own pockets. Encrid knew nobles, too. What if they asked a nearby territory to send troops to wipe out the bandits? Suppose a genuinely benevolent lord agreed to listen. It could only happen after every villager had become a slave, a corpse, or a cripple, sold off or buried here and there. More importantly, the lord of this region wasn't the sort to send soldiers after bandits whose location he didn't even know. The conclusion: left alone, they would all die. And no one but Encrid would step forward. ["We can sell that one, too. He's pretty."]

If anything, the bandit leader was pleased. Encrid fought desperately. Using every means at his disposal, he cut down three men. Against the fourth, a club struck his head and broke his stance. Ger and Pitt fought like madmen, too. Ger swung a single axe with force, while Pitt drove his long spear forward again and again, punching holes in several bandits. ["Unless you mean to let them take you, get a grip, all of you!"]

The village chief gave a courageous shout. Then a throwing axe buried itself in his head, killing him. Still, they fought. Some villagers took up weapons, charging with long pokers and swinging woodcutting axes. ["Throw!"]

The little girl who dreamed of gathering herbs did her part, too. Together with children younger than her or a year or two older, she picked up stones and threw them. It felt as though something might come of it. With luck, they might at least get a chance to escape. What if the mercenary captain changed his mind and launched a surprise attack? Nothing of the sort happened. ["Shoot."] TWANG-TWANG-TWANG! Ten archers. Their arrows flew, and Pitt died. By ill fortune, one pierced his throat. ["Ghhk."]

Because of that, Encrid never heard what his final farewell was. Had Ger and Pitt not known they would die? They had, but they had imagined turning things around. Ger had even devised a plan. Just before the fighting, he'd said he would take the bandit leader hostage if he spotted an opening. Ger never lost a one-on-one fight even within the mercenary company. It had sounded plausible. Pitt was quick with his hands and feet, darting about like lightning as he fought. One would throw the enemy into confusion, and the other would seize their leader. That was the plan. It failed. The leader was both strong and skilled. When Ger saw an opening and charged, he took up a sword and struck head-on against the axe. CLANG! Sparks flew, and Ger's face twisted. His opponent was far more skilled than he'd expected. ["Fuck."] Ger despaired. Pitt had held on and on, only to go first with an arrow in his neck. Hope quickly vanished. ["You sons of bitches!"]

Ger charged in one final, desperate struggle. ["Not a chance."] The bandit leader didn't let down his guard. Without getting worked up, he had his men pull back while maintaining the encirclement. He wasn't going to let them escape, either. In the end, that was how it went. The leader's sword severed Ger's head. ["Did you think you'd win? What the hell were you hoping for when you came at us?"] Encrid resisted to the last, but the leader strangled him with his bare hands. He could see his sword, which had slipped from his hand at some point, lying on the muddy ground. Off to one side, he also caught sight of the little girl. She had kept attacking to the end, only to have her skull smashed open and blood gush out. ["She's dead, too."] The words left Encrid's mouth without his realizing it. The leader followed his gaze impassively and replied. ["She put up quite a fight. Just touching her made her bite and go wild."] The bandit's tone was calm. It was a world of killing and being killed. His reaction was hardly surprising.