Chapter 4: Clash
Severin's POV
I stared intently at the crates of wheat. Blood stained the stalks while the wind, as if on cue, moved them slowly. Many thoughts crossed my mind, but the primary one was that these children were beasts in every sense of the word.
I had intentionally sent them with a vague speech. Stealing the wheat implied many possible methods, most of them non-lethal. But they disappointed me. They went straight to murder, to ruthless death. I had considered that their visible humanity and the kindness I saw while observing them would allow them to act with some reluctance to kill. To show empathy for what they intended to do. Perhaps the ones I saw in the Village were bloodthirsty lunatics, but not all of them.
Yet… in the end, they behave like beasts. And beasts must be tamed by force.
Silas, that boy, looked at me as if I had sold his entire family into slavery. Pure rage in his eyes. He gave me a clue: they had received nothing. The conditions for these tasks are confusing. I fail to grasp what draws the line between the reward and the objectives they set for themselves. In any case, I had to deal with them. They were problematic.
With my spear in a defensive stance, I observed the four of them. Silas was furious, swinging his sword like a child in a tantrum. The tall, muscular one didn't do much, but he watched with apprehension. The woman was already nesting an arrow in her bow. And the athletic boy had a foil in his hand, the other tucked behind his back.
"Do you wish to kill me, boy?" I asked with disdain.
"You might be a hidden boss, but so what?" he replied, still fuming. "There are four of us. You don't stand a chance."
I chuckled under my breath. These wild beasts did not understand the power gap between us. A fifth-circle spellsword like me was far beyond superhuman. Humans like them, nearly normal, were nothing against me.
"I'm not so sure about this, Silas," the tall one said. "A hidden boss like this shouldn't be easy."
"Are you scared?" Silas spat back. "If we die, we just respawn. We might lose some levels at most."
More words I don't understand. More riddles from these children. It didn't matter.
The woman began firing arrows at me. Slow and weak. I intercepted some with my spear and dodged others. Silas charged head-on, flailing his sword. His movements were exaggerated and useless; a small adjustment was more than enough to block him and knock him off balance.
The tall boy also lunged. With his bare fists, he tried to close the distance, but the reach of a spear cannot be overcome without superhuman speed. His open posture left a direct path to his chest. I did not hesitate. I held my spear forward and thrust, easily piercing the boy's chest. He spat blood and fell to the ground as his body slowly began to fade.
"Jared!" Silas screamed, desperate at losing his "tank" in the first blow.
But he got distracted. I closed in much faster than any human and used the pommel of my spear to knock him back. Immediately, I readjusted my position and tilted my neck to avoid a thrust from his athletic friend.
I smiled slightly. It was amusing that this boy had trained with the blade. But his techniques were for normal humans, not for mystic warriors. With that in mind, I parried a few more of his strikes, deflecting them easily, and swept low to cut his ankle.
Blood sprayed from the wound, but something surprised me. The boy kept walking as if it didn't affect him. His speed was slower, but his steps were not unstable. Arrows kept flying. With growing annoyance, I spun my body and hurled my spear toward the meddlesome woman. Her eyes widened in surprise as she tried to move, but the spear transfixed her, pinning her to a tree. Like her friend, she began to dissolve into light.
The boy with the foil tried to take advantage of the fact that I was unarmed, but a sword materialized in my hand. I met his strike with such force that his foil snapped in two. I simply kicked him in the chest and, using a simple first-level spell, I cast Mage Hand. A spectral hand conjured before me.
I sent it to strangle the boy.
He quickly ran out of air, and the asphyxiation led him to the same fate as his companions. His gaze remained defiant until the very end.
Only Silas remained. He looked at me with resentment, clearly resigned to the enemy he had chosen to fight.
"You know, boy? You're clumsy with a blade and a burden to your comrades with that uncontrolled rage," I said, laughing darkly.
"You don't know anything! I'll take you down alone, old man!" he shouted, charging while waving his sword.
Breaking his stance wasn't hard. One hit and his sword flew through the air. I was never very merciful, so to ensure he wouldn't challenge me again, I swung toward his arm. A clean cut that severed it from the shoulder.
The boy looked at his shoulder with horror, but he calmed down a moment later. "It doesn't matter. It'll grow back," he murmured.
"Interesting. So mutants like you have regenerative capabilities?" I asked, genuinely curious.
"No, but when you kill me, I'll come back with my body whole," Silas sneered. "You don't know what kind of enemy you've made."
I laughed softly at his bold words, though they didn't truly bother me.
"Tell me something. What did you expect me to give you for your work? You slaughtered people, caused trouble, and now I have to clean up the mess you made," I said, hoping for information.
"I don't know... a drop? A legendary sword? Something like that?" Silas shrugged with a careless look.
"So much disaster for something I never promised…"
With those final words, I appeared before him and took his head cleanly. The boy's expression never changed, maintaining his mockery and implicit vow of vengeance.
"When my guild comes... you'll see, you damned old man," he said with his dying breath.
As he vanished into wisps of light, I pulled something from my coat. A small notebook I used for my investigations into these monsters.
[Close Observation Notes]:
They are motivated by benefits, though how these are coordinated and why they appear remains a mystery.
They are violent; they resolve disagreements with force.
They are inexperienced, as if their bodies were new and they were still learning to use them.
They are effectively immortal, based on Silas's statements.
They are greedy; they did not hesitate to attack the moment they thought they could gain something from my corpse.
The rewards they see when staring into the void are indecipherable. I must investigate how these work. Perhaps I should reactivate my eyes.
They have no fear—of wounds, pain, or any actual attack.
With that, I closed the notebook and looked at the wheat once more.
"I am sorry. Your death was unnecessary," I said in a soft voice.
And I began to walk out of the forest. Step by step.