Chapter 39. A Night of Horror. Part One

Chapter 39.
A Night of Horror. Part One

Gilbert is dead?

I do not understand. I simply… do not understand.

Emilia, barely holding back tears, explained what had happened. The group that Gilbert had joined to take the wheat to the city was attacked by bandits. Bandits—the very kind no one in these parts had heard about for decades. Yet they appeared from somewhere… and killed all eleven people.

Adventurers had brought their bodies back to the village a few hours ago. They said they had been unable to save Gilbert and his companions, and, as an apology… and a final act of respect, they carried their remains home so that their families could say goodbye.

According to Emilia, the bodies were already in poor condition. The final farewell would be held soon… most likely, the funeral.

Emilia’s mother could not even look at her son’s body. Her heart could not bear it—she fainted. They carried her into the house, and when she came to, she began sobbing again… and seemed unable to stop.

Emilia’s father arrived soon after. At first glance he seemed to be holding himself together, but one look at his face—reddened eyes, the tracks of dried tears—made everything clear. Yes, he had cried as well. Now he was only trying to appear calmer.

“Dear… it is time to say goodbye to our son,” he said quietly.

“No!” Emilia’s mother cried out. “No, my Gilbert could not have died!”

She broke into sobs again, more violently than before.

—

Soon we gathered with Emilia’s family and the rest of the villagers in the center of the village. There, at the very heart of the square, stood eleven funeral pyres. Here, the dead are not buried in the ground—they are given their final send-off by fire.

The farewell was underway. The village elder had been speaking for about fifteen minutes, but I heard almost nothing—my mind seemed to refuse to function.

The pyres were lit one after another. When the flames took the pyre on which Gilbert lay, Emilia’s mother cried so desperately it sounded as if her soul were being torn apart. Emilia held her, trying to soothe her… but she could not hold back her own tears either, and wept with her mother.

It is strange to realize this: just a few days ago the person was alive, you spoke with him, you laughed… and today he is gone.

Damn it… I should have gone with Gilbert and the group to the city. It would have been safer. I would have handled those bandits. I have killed more than a thousand monsters in direct combat—monsters strong enough to be the final bosses of a third-rank dungeon. I am certain I could have defeated those bandits with ease.

Why did I simply stay here?

If I had gone with them, this tragedy would not have happened.

Looking at Emilia, at her suffering, I feel as if my heart is being torn to shreds.

—

Night fell, but the eleven funeral fires still burned. We kept the flames alive, adding more wood every half hour. I helped as well.

A little ways off, a huge cauldron of food simmered. Several villagers bustled around it with a few unfamiliar people—clearly not locals. Most likely, these were the adventurers who had brought back the bodies of the dead. I suppose I should thank them later. If not for them, Gilbert and the others would have rotted somewhere by the road… we might never even have learned what happened to them.

Damn it… why are the tears coming again? Enough. I have shed more than enough already.

—

It must have been deep into the night. The funeral pyres had burned out. Some villagers were now distributing food to everyone.

“Here, take this,” a woman said, handing me a bowl of hot soup and a piece of bread.

I took a spoonful. Tasteless. I do not know… perhaps it was fine, but I simply could not taste anything. I kept lifting spoonful after spoonful as if performing a habitual motion. I even forgot the bread. Only when the bowl was empty did I break off a little of it as well.

In a moment like this it is hard to taste anything at all. It seemed the other villagers also ate out of necessity—forcing themselves to chew and swallow.

—

Some time passed, and people gradually began to drift home. Even so, more than half remained. Emilia’s family stayed as well. They would probably be here until dawn.

I would stay too. I could not simply go home and leave Emilia’s family here. Yes, I understood that I could not really help them… but I would remain anyway.

It looked like Emilia’s younger brother and sister had fallen asleep in her arms. Her mother, too, seemed to have stopped crying—most likely she had dozed off, leaning against her husband’s shoulder.

It was strangely quiet despite the number of people present.

[Condition met. Skill acquired: Poison Resistance. Rank 1]

A system window suddenly appeared before my eyes.

What the hell? What do you mean, “Poison Resistance”?

I was poisoned a long time ago, and the effect of that poison faded months back.

And I am receiving this skill only now?

What nonsense…

“Chester said everything is ready. We can start working. The others will be here in about twenty minutes,” a man’s voice suddenly said.

He was far away, but the night was so quiet that I heard his low words perfectly clearly.

“Hey, do not rush the job. Before the others get here, we can have a little… fun. I liked that redhead. You can pick someone else,” a second voice replied.

What the hell? What are they even talking about?

“Hey, that is not fair! I liked the redhead too,” a third voice objected.

“All right, all right,” the first one chuckled. “There will be enough of her for both of us.”

“Well then, let us hurry. Once the others arrive, we will have to deal with them as well. But first—me. I will go first. Agreed?” said the second voice.

The two of them were heading our way.

A redhead… a red-haired girl.

As far as I know, this village has only one red-haired girl—Emilia. The only one.

Which means… they were talking about her.

The moment I understood that, rage flooded me. Pure, searing.

No… calm down. Calm yourself.

Perhaps I am mistaken? Perhaps they meant something else and I misunderstood everything? Yes… I should not act rashly. There is no need to hurry.

I did not move, simply watching them approach. Step by step. And the closer they came, the clearer it became—they were walking straight toward Emilia’s family.

They stopped right in front of Emilia. She was sleeping, holding her younger brother and sister.

“Move the brats,” one of them said.

“Fine, just make it quick. The others will be here soon and might get in my way,” the other replied.

He reached his hand toward Emilia…

At maximum speed I lunged forward and seized the wrist of the man who was trying to touch her.

“What…?” the man gasped as my hand clamped around his.

“What do you think you are doing?!” I demanded loudly.

I raised my voice on purpose—to wake Emilia, her family, everyone nearby. At the same time I made it cold and threatening, so he would understand that I saw exactly what he was doing… and that I demanded an answer for what the hell he thought he was doing.

“And who are you supposed to be?” the second man snapped when I looked at him.

Damn it… was he trying to pull down his pants?

Filthy bastards.

“I asked you what the hell you are doing?!” My voice came out much louder this time.

And yet something was strange. Why was none of the villagers waking up?

Even Emilia… she had not woken either.

“So you did not drink the soup, huh?” the second man—the one who had been tugging at his trousers—smirked. “Lucky you… or no, perhaps the opposite.”

“What do you mean by that?” I asked coldly, not loosening my grip.

“If you had drunk the soup like the others, you would have fallen asleep,” he went on. “And you would have woken up on the road to your new home. The place where you and the rest will happily work until the end of your days.

“As it is…” his smirk turned even fouler. “We will have to teach you a lesson. Maybe break your arm. Or cut out your tongue—for ruining our fun.”

What nonsense is he spouting…?

Anger surged through me.

Something cracked under my hand.

“A-a-a!” screamed the man whose wrist I held.

It seemed I had broken his arm. Well—so be it.

For what they intended to do to Emilia, these swine deserved a fate far worse than death. A broken arm was nothing.

“Let go of my arm! Let go!” he howled, jerking and writhing in an effort to break free.

Realizing it was useless, he reached for his sword.

That, I could not allow.

I kicked him sharply and hard. The blow hurled him back a good twenty meters. He crashed to the ground.

One down.

…No, not quite. He was still alive, groaning and convulsing with pain.

Fine. The second one, then.

I turned my gaze on the other man. He already had his sword in hand and was watching me—warily, and with obvious fear. It was almost funny. Just moments ago he had said he would “teach me a lesson”…

Now there was not a trace of that earlier arrogance on his face.

I teleported to the Training Room. I always kept my sword there. Time seemed to affect this blade very little—at least, I had noticed no wear on it. That was why I stored it there.

Yes… the positioning was right.

I teleported back outside and appeared directly behind the man. With a light motion I pressed the sword’s edge to his throat.

“If you want to live, drop your sword on the ground.”

He flinched at my voice and immediately let the blade fall.

“Now turn around and face me. Slowly,” I said.

He obeyed.

Damn it… his face was not merely fearful anymore—it was pure terror. Yes, one might almost pity him… but no. Considering what he was about to do and what he had said, I would kill him regardless.

But before I killed him, I needed to question him. He had said far too troubling things. He was certain I had not fallen asleep because I had not eaten the soup. Which meant… the soup had been drugged.

And there was one more thing. Now everything fit. It explained why I had just received the Poison Resistance skill.

“Now answer a few questions,” I said, making my voice as clear as possible and even smiling a little. Yes… a smile can truly help in conversation at times.