Chapter 157: Toward the Holy Land (4)

Chapter 157: Toward the Holy Land (4)

"Probably rookie hunters. It's one of the sieves that filters out participants of the Festival of Swords."

Navirose sighed. Her dry voice carried only a hint of emotion, akin to saying, 'The neighbor's dog had a big bone today.' Ronan raised his shoulders.

"Seems like it happens quite often, huh?"

"Yeah. It works as a self-purging effect, just leave it be. Usually, they just rob them of their belongings and leave without killing them, but if you want to help, you can go."

Ronan shook his head. Even he had no intention of helping idiots who couldn't even defend themselves. They should have come prepared if they were weak. The scream echoed again.

"Argh, please not the sword! I already emptied all my belongings!"

"No, I'll give you everything, just spare my life! Ugh! The shield that my great-grandfather passed down to me!!"

It was the same kind of scream each time. The voices of those robbing them were not even audible, considering how loud the screams were.

Observing the generally high-pitched tone, he still seemed like a kid. Ronan's eyes twitched every time a scream echoed. Navirose tapped his cheek with her index finger.

"Just go and come back. Don't say anything more."

"Alright. I'll be back soon."

Ronan pulled away from Navirose's hand. He tried to appear as stern as possible as he turned on his heel. It was the moment he took his first step.

"Huueeek! That's my father's heirloom...! Noo!"

"Shit."

Ronan stopped in his tracks. The voice was incredibly loud.

"As I said before, don't be ashamed of your kind nature."

"...It's noisy."

"I'm going back first. Do as you please."

Navirose turned away, leaving those words. She raised her arm as if saying goodbye.

"Thanks for today. I feel a bit better now that I've talked to you about it."

"It's okay.."

"Apart from my gratitude, this kid, he's still quite young."

Between Navirose's index and middle fingers, a cigarette butt with fingerprints was stuck. Soon, her figure disappeared beyond the trees. Ronan, who had just been patted on the cheek, forced a bitter smile.

'I hope she recovers soon.'

It was unlikely that such a wound would heal with just this. As the saying goes, even if the arrow is pulled out, the hole will still remain. The serpent inside her would probably remain dead.

Ronan decided to think positively. Serpents are resilient creatures. When the weather warms up, it might get up and reveal its fangs.

"Now then..."

After regaining his slightly depressed mood, Ronan turned his head. Since then, there had been no more screams. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated. His senses, including sight and hearing, began to expand gradually.

'It's not that far.'

At most, it was a few hundred meters away. Ronan, pointing in the right direction, ran out towards the lake. Bang! With his legs enhanced by mana, the ground splashed with dirt and fallen leaves.

'Let's see what kind of guys they are.'

It was unforgivable to bother someone for no reason. Cries of trees and mountain birds passed quickly by. He soon saw the flickering light between the trees.

'Damn, am I too late?'

Ronan frowned. The scene was already a mess. Camping equipment and miscellaneous items were scattered on the ground.

The still burning firewood intact indicated that the assault happened right after they lit the fire. A few grumbling voices could be heard.

"You took everything we need, right?"

"Yeah. It was quite a harvest."

"Tsk, it's finally quiet after he got slapped around a bit."

Ronan turned his gaze. A few steps away from the campfire, three hulking figures stood like statues. Judging from their robust skeletons and the cores embedded in their weapons, they didn't seem to be ordinary bandits.

'Rookie hunters.'

They were holding enormous weapons, matching their size. Two had double-handed hammers, and one had a greatsword, all of which didn't look like common items.

"Ah... Ahh..."

Amidst the hulking figures, there was a frail-looking boy sprawled, whimpering. As Ronan had anticipated, it was a kid who hadn't even grown a beard yet.

Looking at his swollen face and ragged clothes, it was evident that he had already received a good beating. Blood from his broken nose formed a small puddle on the ground. Lifting his head with a wince, he pleaded with the hulking figures.

"Ugh... Wh-what did I do wrong...? Please, stop..."

"What did you do wrong? You're one of the participants, that's what."

"Think of it as a good experience and go home. We'll use your belongings well."

The large man wielding the greatsword raised his foot. The foot that had momentarily hung in the air descended directly onto the sandwich that lay in front of the boy. With a crunch, the bread shattered, and the condiments and vegetables scattered in all directions. The boy, wide-eyed, let out a loud scream.

"Argaaaah! Th-that was made by my mother!"

Birds took flight again. It was genuinely a disgustingly loud voice.

"Damn, it's noisy. Big brother, should we just kill this one?"

"Not a bad idea."

The two with hammers grumbled as if they were fed up. Ronan had wondered why the three of them looked so similar, but they turned out to be brothers. The one remaining, caressing the hilt of the greatsword, nodded.

"Yeah. This'll be my first kill."

"Oh, no! Spare me!"

"Blame that loud voice for your death!"

The hulking figure with the greatsword raised his weapon, intending to bring it down vertically. The boy, covering his face with both arms, let out a scream. Just as the massive blade was about to split the top of his head.

Clang!!

A sharp metallic sound reverberated, and simultaneously, the greatsword stopped. The boy slowly opened his eyes to see that he was still alive.

"Heuk... heuuk...! Wh-who are you...?"

"Your brothers are sure good at being thieves."

A figure unseen before stood behind him. In his strong hand, a thin sword resembling dragonfly wings was gripped.

The menacing, black and ominous greatsword, touching the thin blade of the sword, was lowered in submission. The man holding the greatsword widened his eyes at the sudden appearance of the uninvited guest.

"Who are you?"

"That's none of your concern. Anyway, let me ask you one thing."

The hulking figure growled threateningly. Whether he spoke or not, Ronan interrupted.

"Is it true that this is your first kill? If so, I'm willing to let you go if you surrender one arm each."

"Is this guy completely insane?"

The hulking figure snorted. However, his gaze was directed toward Lamancha in Ronan's hand. The black blade of the sword did not simply block the sword strike, but penetrated into the greatsword.

It was an extraordinary sword. Moreover, the boy in front of him was blocking the attack with only one arm. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move.

'Damn it, where did this monster come from?'

Cold sweat ran down the man's temples. He quickly exchanged glances with his brothers. Their expressions indicated that they understood the gravity of the situation. Taking a deep breath, the hulking figure looked at Ronan.

"Hey, seems like he's your friend, so I'll stop here. Don't you think the Festival of Swords maintains its reputation because rookie hunters like us that weed out the idiots?"

"Getting polite all of a sudden. Why, did your balls shrink once you grasped the situation?"

"Rather than that, let's not spill unnecessary blood. What I mean is... Hyaah!!"

It was just for a moment. As Ronan spoke, the hulking figure suddenly roared. The greatsword, detached from the Lamancha, flew towards Ronan.

"Shtup!"

"You cocky bastard, die!"

The other two bulky figures also rushed in simultaneously. A mana-infused blade and a hammer head came flying with a bluish glow. Ronan sighed lightly.

"This is why pride is such a frightening thing..."

In an instant, Lamancha disappeared from sight. Swish! A sound like a whistle echoed faintly. Red lines appeared on both arms of the hulking figures simultaneously.

The moment Lamancha, having executed an exciting slash, returned to its original position. Shwaaah! Six arms simultaneously soared into the air. The eyes of the hulking figures widened.

"Huh?"

They couldn't immediately grasp what had happened. The sensation under their shoulders was gone. Thud. The arm that had been rotating in the air fell to the ground.

From a clean-cut cross-section, blood gushed out. The arms, still full of strength, continued to tightly grip their weapons.

"My arm."

The man holding the greatsword muttered quietly. Suddenly, a pain as if being stabbed surged through the three of them.

"Heuk! Heuaaah!"

Pained screams erupted from the mouths of the hulking figures. Almost simultaneously, as if they were brothers screaming in agony.

The three of them screamed in agony, struggling and writhing for a while, before fleeing into the forest. Discarding not only the stolen items from the boy but also their own belongings. Ronan watched their retreating figures and sighed.

"Damn idiots. It could've ended with just one each."

Six paths made of blood stretched toward the direction they escaped. Nevertheless, those who knew how to handle mana wouldn't die easily, but they probably wouldn't swing a sword for the rest of their lives.

Ronan turned to the boy. Covered in the blood of the thieves, he looked at Ronan with a vacant expression.

"Hey."

"...Ha!"

Ronan flicked his fingers. Only then did the boy come to his senses and staggered to his feet. He grabbed Ronan's hand and spoke with a trembling voice.

"Th-thank you so much...! Really...! Thank you!"

"That's enough. How old are you?"

"Oh, I turned fifteen this year!"

"Why did a kid who hasn't even grown hair down there come here? Do you want to die that badly?"

Ronan growled lowly. He was angrier at the boy's recklessness than having his hands stained with blood.

Is it because Ronan had seen so many people who died even though they wanted to live? He simply could not tolerate people who acted as if they had two lives. The boy, who cowered as if frightened, opened his mouth.

"I-I'm sorry... I really had to come all the way to Parzan, no matter what."

"So why? Are you also here to find the Holy Sword or something?"

"Oh, no! I don't want that at all. I just came... to deliver something to one of the participants."

"To deliver something?"

Ronan frowned at the unexpected answer. The boy nodded quickly. Each time his bangs fluttered up and down, drops of blood flew.

"I'm sure you're not lying. What kind of idiot would come to Parzan for that reason?"

"I'm not lying. There's a person who's usually hard to find, so... Look!"

Suddenly, the boy staggered and moved. He picked up a bag lying on the ground. The bag was almost as thick and long as the boy, and it seemed incredible that he had come here carrying it.

Ronan raised an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"It's the item I need to deliver."

The boy skillfully began to untie the bag. When the thick fabric was removed, a luxurious box appeared. The boy who was caressing the outside of the box sighed in relief.

"Fortunately, it wasn't taken from me... really..."

Judging by the voice with traces of moisture, it seemed to be an item of significant importance. The boy cautiously opened the lid. Phaaaah— a bright light emitted from it. Inside the box, adorned with silk finishing, lay a longsword radiating a white glow.

"This is..."

Ronan raised an intrigued eyebrow. Even without an explanation, it was evident. This was truly an exceptional sword. Its quality was trustworthy, perhaps even surpassing what Doron could create at the moment.

"...It's definitely worth shouting so loudly for. So, who are you delivering this to?"

Ronan asked. The boy, who was smiling as he looked at the sword, finally opened his mouth with a moist voice.

"It's for the Sword Saint Zaifa."