Chapter 40. A Nightmarish Night. Part 2

Chapter 40. A Nightmarish Night. Part 2

After the interrogation, I understood who they really were and what was actually happening here. It turned out these people were not adventurers at all, but part of the very same bandit gang that had killed Gilbert and his group. When he admitted it, I wanted to slit his throat on the spot… but I held back. I needed information. I had to understand what they were planning to do with the village.

It turned out they had poisoned the cauldron in which soup was being cooked for all the villagers. They added some kind of neurotoxin—or something similar. It did not take effect immediately, but slowly, several hours after ingestion. After roughly twelve to fifteen hours, a person completely lost the ability to move and resist. Then the effect gradually wore off. The poison was not lethal.

It became clear: the bandits had not come just to rob the village, as I had initially assumed. Yes, they planned to take everything of value. But not only that—they also planned to take the people.

It turned out they were working with slave traders. According to him, by morning a caravan was supposed to be waiting nearby to take the “new goods.” The main force of this gang was supposed to arrive here soon. When I asked how many of them there would be, he first said—more than a thousand.

Well then… I was ready to fight even thousands of people. If they were as weak as these two, I had every chance.

But then I raised my voice and asked again—this time harshly. Exactly thousands? Not more? He hesitated… and then confessed. In reality, there would be around sixty of them.

Idiot. He was just trying to scare me by naming an obviously exaggerated number.

If there were only sixty of them, there would be no problem at all.

I could deal with people like that without much effort.

It seemed he realized the questioning was over and began to beg for his life. He said he used to be just a pickpocket, that his life was hard. That a family was waiting for him at home—hungry children. That he had joined this gang only a couple of months ago and had come here just to earn a little money. Pathetic excuses. Familiar words.

Maybe I would have believed him. But a man who supposedly has a family and hungry children waiting at home, even if he chooses banditry as a last resort, still cannot justify what he was planning to do to Emilia.

He wanted to do it not out of necessity. Not for his family.

It was his own choice—his own filthy desires.

And for that, I could not let him go.

I ended his life with a single motion—so fast that he did not even have time to understand what had happened. It was over instantly. Perhaps even as he died, he never realized what exactly had happened to him.

[Killed human (Lv. 12)]

[Received +70 experience points]

Alright… now the second one.

Oh, he is trying to crawl away? Yes, he could no longer run, but he was still crawling—away, toward the forest.

The forest…

Damn it. People were already coming out of it. Several dozen.

I had to act quickly.

In one swift movement, I was next to that pitiful creature and finished him off. It was over instantly.

[Killed human (Lv. 11)]
[Received +60 experience points]

Before it ended, he tried to say something. He shouted something—maybe a threat, mentioned someone’s name. I did not catch it. And it did not matter.

I quickly returned to Emilia, created a health potion, and tried to pour it into her mouth, but…

Damn it.

Her eyes were half-open. She was looking at me, but it seemed she could not move.

“I’m sorry, Emilia…” I whispered.

I had to force her mouth open and pour the potion in. A few seconds later, she started coughing and began to move.

Good. The health potion works against this poison as well—and apparently quite quickly.

“I’m sorry…” I said to Emilia once more.

“Do you have any more potions?” she suddenly asked.

That was not at all what I expected to hear from her.

“Yes, I have a few more,” I replied.

“Give me everything you have,” she said in a firm voice.

I created twenty-three more first-rank health potions and handed them to Emilia. She immediately opened one vial and gave it first to her brother, then to her sister, and after that moved on to her parents.

So one potion could be used for two people. That made sense: the poison was not lethal—it only paralyzed for a few hours. Half a vial should be enough for one person.

Even so, these potions would hardly be enough for all the villagers. I had supplies at home… but right now there were far more urgent matters.

I needed to deal with the bandits who were approaching the village. And also with the three who were already hiding somewhere inside. It would be better to finish them off as quickly as possible.

I would take care of distributing health potions to the villagers later.

Right now, the greatest danger was the bandits.

“I’m sorry, Emilia… I need to do something,” I said, already preparing to leave to deal with the bandits.

“Do it,” she replied.

I stopped. I did not understand what she meant.

“Sorry… what?”

“Stop apologizing!” Emilia said sharply, turning toward me.

There were tears in her eyes. Sadness.

But stronger than anything else was another emotion—hatred. Rage.

“Kill all of them. Do not let a single one escape,” she said.

And at that moment, I understood. She had heard everything. Heard me interrogating that man. Understood that it was these bandits who had killed her brother.

And now she wanted only one thing—for Gilbert’s murderers to die.

I understood her.

“Alright,” I said. “I promise. I will not let a single one of them leave this place alive.”

I headed in the direction from which the bandits were supposed to come.

They were already approaching the village.

About fifty to sixty people. It seemed that man had not lied.

I had to act quickly. Finish them off… and return to Emilia.

---

POV:

The first half of the job had already been done.

Dorn was searching the house of one of the villagers.

He found only a couple of silver coins and some copper. Not a single gold coin.

Damn poor bastards. If they had no money, they could at least have kept some alcohol. But no—this savage had absolutely nothing of value.

Dorn turned the entire house upside down and was growing angrier by the minute. Nothing worthwhile.

From outside came the voices of Holt and Garrick talking.

Damn it… they had already started to “have fun.”

Dorn merely snorted. Newbies. They simply did not understand how things worked here. The best use of time right now, before the others arrived, was to find at least something valuable in this village. Especially money—something that could be quietly hidden away and not turned in as part of the shared loot.

There would be time for fun tomorrow. Besides, once they were done with this village, they would have several days to celebrate anyway. That was why Dorn was trying to find as many valuables as possible right now.

Yes, he understood that he could not keep everything. Most of the loot would have to be handed over to the common stash. But if he got lucky and found a couple of gold coins, he could hide them. Keep them for himself.

But no. These lower barbarians, as it turned out, had nothing at all.

He had already searched a second house. The bad luck was starting to irritate him.

Meanwhile, Kreg had chosen the headman’s house. As the leader of the gang, he had the right to do so. Still, Dorn thought it was unfair. After all, the most valuable things in a village always belonged to the richest man—and that was, of course, the headman.

There had to be money in his house. Gold coins. And alcohol.

—A-a-a-a—

Suddenly, he heard a scream. Dorn immediately looked out the window and saw Holt flying through the air in the distance before crashing to the ground.

He became alert at once. He crouched by the window and began to watch closely.

Then he noticed some man. In the next instant, the man simply vanished… and immediately appeared behind Garrick. In his hands was a massive sword, its blade already pressed against Garrick’s throat.

Dorn was sure Garrick was about to die. But no—it seemed that the man had started interrogating him.

This was bad.

Very bad.

They had not been told there would be anyone dangerous in this village. Especially not someone this dangerous.

He needed to urgently inform Kreg and gather everyone. Otherwise, this man would kill them before they could do anything. Dorn understood this clearly.

He climbed out of the house through the back window. Staying low, he headed toward the village headman’s house. Trying not to make a sound or draw attention, he carefully entered inside.

“I ordered no one to disturb me until all the work was finished,” Kreg’s displeased voice rang out.

Kreg was sitting at a massive table piled high with food and alcohol. In the corner of the room stood two girls—they were trembling, their heads lowered, their faces pale.

Damn it… while they were supposed to be working all night, this bastard apparently planned to “have fun” until morning.

As always.

“We have a problem,” Dorn said.

“Then solve your problems yourselves,” Kreg replied coldly. “Do not bother me with trifles. If you keep this up, I will simply kill you. Is that what you want?”

He grabbed the hilt of his sword, as if about to draw it from its sheath.

“No… no,” Dorn said hastily, feeling a chill run down his spine. “We cannot solve this problem ourselves.”

There was anxiety and fear for his own life in his voice.

Kreg removed his hand from the sword.

“Fine. Speak. But if this is some kind of nonsense, you will regret it,” Kreg said coldly.

Dorn began to recount everything he had seen.

---

POV: Kreg

If Dorn’s story was true and he had not exaggerated anything, they would have to sacrifice some of these useless bastards in order to kill the man who was interfering with their plans, Kreg thought.

Then Kreg suddenly heard noise from the street.

Sounds of battle.

They were not very loud—the fighting was taking place far from this house. But even from here, screams and fragments of shouted orders could be heard.

Hurriedly, Kreg went outside. Dorn followed him.

Not far from the house, his men had already gathered—the ones who had been nearby in the forest. It seemed they had already engaged someone in combat.

Good. I did not even have to give an order. They will quickly finish off that bastard, he thought.

But something was wrong.

The screams were not dying down. On the contrary—they were becoming more numerous. Panic could be heard in the voices. Orders were shouted more and more often, and more chaotically.

And then he noticed the anomaly.

Among his men, some man appeared. Every time he showed up, someone—one or several at once—fell to the ground dead. And while Kreg watched, already half of his men were dead.

Then fear crept up on him.

This man was far stronger than he had anticipated. Simply gathering everyone and killing him would not work. Especially now—half of the men were already gone.

They needed to urgently find another way out.

Run? No. It looked like this guy could teleport. Escaping from him would not be possible.

For the first time in his life, Kreg felt real fear.

Fear of death.

If he did not come up with something, soon he would die just like his men—those who were dying right before his eyes.