## Chapter 22 – Escorting the Caravan
Murder.
What a terrifying and dreadful word. Something that should never happen, something one should never do. At least, my home planet, Earth, was a world where such common sense existed.
It was unimaginable for murders to occur around me; it was something I only saw on the news, and it was utterly horrifying. I lived believing that.
But.
But this medieval-like, uncivilized, and barbaric otherworld was not like that.
Human rights were scarce enough for slaves to exist, most people were uneducated and ignorant, there was the threat of monsters, and resources were insufficient. Wars seemed to break out at the drop of a hat.
So?
In such a difficult world, naturally, the act of `taking` what belongs to others would become rampant.
In simpler terms, it’s called plunder. This act of plunder, of forcibly taking what belongs to others, inevitably accompanies the grave criminal act of murder.
It happened when I had just arrived in this otherworld.
Let’s skip over the “struggle” part since I’ve used it too much. Anyway, living as a homeless vagrant, I lived each day in fear of starving to death the next. Nothing in this world was more precious than a single meal I managed to obtain by luck.
So.
So, if I were lucky enough—or rather, if I managed to get my hands on a small piece of bread with great difficulty—if someone tried to take that piece of bread, which was as precious as a lifeline, what would I do?
People die surprisingly easily with just a rock.
I killed him, that fellow vagrant. When he snatched my bread and devoured it greedily, I picked up a rock and smashed his head in. No, to be precise, I smashed his head in until he died. Even after confirming his death, I kept smashing.
Thick blood soaked my hands. I had committed a brutal murder, but there was no remorse for killing a person. I was extremely hungry, and I simply opened the corpse’s mouth, scooped out all the bread he had been chewing, and shoved it into my mouth. And after feeling a slight sense of fullness, the only thought that crossed my mind was, `Ah, I’m alive.` Furthermore, I stripped the clothes off the corpse and took all his belongings. I felt a faint sense of guilt, but the fact that he had tried to kill me erased even that sliver of guilt.
Yes.
That’s what happened.
That was the right thing to do.
“…”
With my shout, the bandit leader collapsed powerlessly, and a moment of silence ensued.
“Ugh, uooooh!!! Boss!!!”
“That bastard got the boss!!!”
“Kill him!”
The bandits began to wail. For bandits who made a living through murder and robbery, they seemed to have quite a bit of loyalty.
They quickly took up battle stances. Frankly, they all looked the same to me. What could they do without a leader? We had already won half the battle.
I looked at the caravan leader.
He was staring at me with a bewildered expression.
This guy’s brain wasn’t working very fast. Shouldn’t he have noticed and given the order to attack sooner? There’s no better tactic than a surprise attack in a brawl. This guy won’t live long.
Just as I was about to shout out of frustration, he seemed to snap out of it and yelled.
“Eit!! What are you doing!! Kill them all! Kill all those bandit bastards!”
“Uooooh!!”
With that shout, the bandits and our team clashed. I took advantage of the chaos to pretend to fight and slipped to the back. I didn’t want to be targeted as the boss’s enemy by being in the front.
More than anything, I had to `take` the equipment of the guy I killed. It would be a problem if I died when I was about to get my hands on some expensive armor.
A frantic sense of anticipation filled my mind.
“Die! Dieeee!”
“You son of a bitch!”
The adventurers and bandits were fighting hard in their own way, but to me, it was as boring or funny as watching a street fight video on YouTube.
In fact, there was no real reason for the bandits and adventurers to fight each other with such ferocity. People can’t get fired up when they fight without a reason. Above all, both the bandits and adventurers were fighting while worrying about each other’s safety, so the battle was bound to be passive.
Life was precious to both bandits and adventurers. No one wanted to shed blood and risk their lives for such trivial reasons. If there were any warriors who were willing to see blood in any battle, they would have quit this kind of petty job and gone on to do bigger things.
There was no way that guys with that kind of grit would be involved in such lowly occupations as adventurers or bandits.
“Cough!”
The ones who fought the best were the caravan’s soldiers with spears. As professional combatants who had received specialized training, their momentum was impressive. They seemed to know how to kill people. As they formed ranks and thrust their spears, the ragtag bandits had no way to defend themselves.
“Kill! Kill!”
“You son of a bitch!”
“Hey, hey! Come this way!”
Like a bat, I flitted around, looking for bandits and adventurers engaged in one-on-one duels. Did they think I was crazy enough to fight alone? There was no such thing as a fair one-on-one fight for me.
If there’s a team, it’s common sense to play as a team.
After such efforts, I found a group of idiots fighting one-on-one as if it were some kind of arena. They were taking steps back and forth, repeating attacks and retreats, putting on a show without landing any effective hits.
“Hap! Hap!”
“Die!”
I immediately joined in. The bandit was so startled by my appearance that it was as if he had seen his deceased mother come back to life.
“W, what is this bastard!”
“I’m the Grim Reaper, you son of a bitch!”
With my appearance in the middle of their heated duel, the tide immediately turned in our favor. Winning a 2-on-1 fight was impossible for anyone but a skilled expert, and there was no way a bandit would have that kind of skill.
If they had that kind of skill, why would they make a living as bandits? They were all incompetent, losers who couldn’t show their faces in society, so they became bandits.
“You son of a bitch! Cowardly bastards!”
“Says the bandit, you idiot!”
The bandit, who was now facing two opponents alone, tried to escape in confusion, but turning his back in this situation meant death. Knowing this, the bandit didn’t run away and fought bravely, but,
“Keuheaaaak!!!”
As I said, he could never beat two people alone. While he and the adventurer were exchanging blows, I ran behind him and stabbed him in the back with my knife, and that was the end of it. The bandit writhed in pain and collapsed.
“Thanks!”
“Remember this, I’ll split the spoils in half.”
“Of course!”
With a refreshing smile that made it impossible to imagine that he had just killed someone, the nameless adventurer said that. This guy seemed to be a real psychopath, unlike me. He finished the job.
The battle was subtly neck and neck. The bandits’ corpses were rolling around, and a few adventurers had died. And both sides had deserters. Even if it was passive, a battle was a battle, so casualties occurred.
Frankly, I had two kills, so I had done my part. No one could say anything even if I lay down here.
I looked around the battlefield. Come to think of it, wasn’t there a martial artist? Now that I thought about it, it wouldn’t be strange if that guy, who didn’t even have a proper weapon, had already died. Thinking about that made me feel sorry for the night watch.
If only the dead could stand guard instead, like how they collected taxes even from skeletons during the Baekgoljingpo.
“Iyaaaaap!!”
At that moment, a shout that seemed to split the heavens and earth was heard. Oh? I looked over there with anticipation, wondering if the martial artist was beating everyone up with his fists.
“Kkeuryaaaaaa!”
It wasn’t a shout, it was just a scream. That son of a bitch.
The martial artist was getting unilaterally beaten because he had no weapon. He was a truly amazing idiot. Seriously, no lie, he was an amazing asshole. His whole body was covered in blood, so should I praise him for not dying yet?
That’s why martial artists are a trash job, right? Kids are so full of bravado that they all join the martial arts guild, but if a guy who makes a living fighting doesn’t even have a weapon, what is he? What? Fists are the best weapon? Are you still saying that after seeing that guy’s state?
I was always frustrated whenever I saw those guys. Seeing them punching monsters with their fists instead of using good swords and axes made me feel frustrated.
“Aigo, what a crazy bastard!”
I was about to join the martial artist. If he died, it would cause a big problem for the night watch. Plus, it would be nice to get another kill. However, the bandit seemed to have some sense, and he quickly ran away as soon as I ran towards him.
“Huk, huk…”
The martial artist, who had finally caught his breath, exhaled roughly.
That’s the wisdom of survival. He probably targeted the martial artist because he looked like an easy target with no weapon, and he ran away as soon as he saw me coming. He’s smarter than I thought. That kind of wisdom extends your lifespan. Look at that guy running away over there. It’s better to run away than to die here.
“Thanks for helping.”
“You’re welcome.”
Around that time, the battle was roughly over. Most of the bandits had run away. There was no way that guys who were just bandits would stay until the end and fight bravely.
Since the bandits ran away faster than the adventurers, the battle ended in victory for the caravan.
“We won!”
“Hooray!”
Still, victory is valuable. Everyone cheered. The bandits who ran away might bring reinforcements, but would they really? It didn’t seem likely. If the bandits were that big, the lords would have already suppressed them.
A squad-level force was one thing, but a company-level force would definitely be suppressed.
“Assess the dead and wounded!”
At the caravan leader’s words, work began immediately without even resting their battle-weary bodies. In fact, not many people had died. It was just that there were more people lying down with serious injuries.
I supported the injured adventurers and moved them to the wagons. Judging by their injuries, it wouldn’t be strange if they died soon. There were no healers or doctors here, and no priests or nuns who could easily cast healing spells. Could he really survive with about 2-3 days left until the city? All I could say was that it was a pity.
I moved one of the adventurers who was making dying noises to the wagon, and the caravan’s employees accepted him, saying they would provide first aid. I handed him over and looked for more injured people.
“Keuheuk… S, save…”
Who was it this time? Looking at the guy crawling on the ground, it was a bandit who was bleeding profusely. He raised his face, which was a mess of various pains, and begged me to save him.
“What do we do with this living bandit!”
I shouted loudly and asked.
“Get out of the way, that guy is my prey.”
“Is that so?”
It was an adventurer with a two-handed axe who had appeared. Then the ownership of this bandit would belong to him. I thought I saw him making a gesture of raising his two-handed axe high from behind, and for some reason, the bandit seemed to be wailing, `P, please save me!`, but it was no longer my business.
Know that those who try to take what belongs to others may even have their own existence taken away. I seemed to have heard something like that at the Brass Sanctuary preaching session last time, and it was just like that. Maybe it’s a good religion if you look at it that way.
They shouldn’t beg for their lives when they were killing others and stealing their wealth.
If there were such unconscionable guys, then giving them the death penalty as punishment was entirely right.
“Let’s see.”
More than that, I couldn’t hold back my excitement any longer.
Surely I had killed the bandit leader with a cool and wonderful stone throw earlier. I couldn’t even guess how many silver his breastplate would be worth. With just that, upgrading to a D-rank adventurer would be a matter of time. And was that all?
His clothes, his weapon, the money he was carrying. It was all mine.
That’s when I found the bandit leader’s corpse while humming a song.
Some adventurer was stripping the breastplate off the corpse.
“Who the hell is this guy.”
