Overlord Volume 5 - The Men in the Kingdom Part I

“It’s fine. I don’t care.”
He had bought these items to defeat Gazef. Now that he knew there was no
point in doing so, what meaning was there in treasuring these trinkets?
“High-priced items can be hard to sell at times. The buyer does need to raise
the money, after all. Here, take this.”
Gazef tossed him a small cloth pouch. Brain caught it, and heard the sound of
metal clinking from inside.
“…Sorry about this. I’ll be borrowing this for now, then.”

2

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 10:31
Sebas strolled leisurely as he pondered how to deal with the five people who
had been following him ever since he had left his home. He believed that moving
his body would lift his mood and help him think of a good idea.
Soon, he saw a crowd of people jamming up the road in front of him.
The sound coming from them was either vicious cursing or mocking laughter,
accompanied by the sound of something striking something else. Cries along the
lines of “Someone’s going to die” and “Better get the guards” rose up from them.
The crowd blocked his line of sight, but he was certain that some kind of
violence was in progress.
Sebas thought that perhaps he should change his path and take another path.
He hesitated for a moment — and then he continued straight onwards.
His path took him into the center of the crowd.
“Excuse me.”
Sebas wove through the onlookers with those words and reached the center
of the crowd.
The sight of an old man moving with a bizarre, fluid grace shocked and
unnerved the onlookers, and the people who saw Sebas passing before them
were stunned with surprise.
There seemed to be someone else trying to get to the heart of the crowd other
than Sebas. Said person went, “Excuse me,” but he could not advance through
the throng of humanity and was stuck, unable to advance or retreat.
Sebas stepped into the center of the congregation with no difficulty, and there

he saw what was going on with his own eyes.
Several unkempt-looking men were kicking and stomping on something.
Sebas moved on without a single sound, stopping only when he was within

arms’ reach of the men.
“Fuck you doing, old man?!”
One of the five men had noticed Sebas approaching and snarled at him.
“This place seemed a little noisy so, I came to take a look.”
“You want a piece of this?!”
The men ran over to surround Sebas. As they left their original positions, they

revealed the object they had been kicking around all this time. It looked like a
boy. He was curled up on the ground and bleeding from his face. It was unclear
if the blood came from his mouth or his nose.

Apparently the boy had passed out after being brutalized for so long, but he
still looked like he was breathing.

Sebas looked at the men. The smell of alcohol hung about their mouths and
bodies. Their faces were flushed red, but not from the exertion of physical
activity.

Had they lost control of their violent impulses because they were drunk?
Sebas had a blank expression on his face as he asked:
“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but don’t you think it’s time to stop?”
“Hah?! This punk got his food all over my shirt! How could I let that slide?”
One of the men pointed to a spot on his shirt. It did look like a stain. However,
the men’s clothes were filthy to begin with. That being the case, the stain was
hardly obvious.
Sebas looked at the one who seemed to be the boss of the five young men. The
difference might have been too subtle for an ordinary human being to detect,
but Sebas — who had a warrior’s keen sensory perceptions — was able to pick
him out.
“Still… public safety in this city is quite bad.”
“Ah?!”
Sebas spoke as though he had just confirmed something he had observed from
afar. The men thought he had trivialized them and made noises of displeasure.
“…Begone.”
“Ah? The fuck you say, old man?”
“I’ll say it again — begone.”
“Damn geezer!”

The boss-like man flushed red and clenched his fist — and then he collapsed
limply to the ground.

Sounds of shock came from all around them, including the four remaining
men.

What Sebas had done was simple enough. He had simply formed his hand into
a fist and struck a blow at the man’s chin — albeit at a speed which humans
would be hard-pressed to even see. That had given the man a high-speed brain
concussion. He could also have sent the man flying with imperceptible speed,
but that would not have served to frighten the others. Thus, he had held back in
his strike.

“Do you still wish to fight?” Sebas quietly said.
His calm and strength cut through the men’s intoxication. They backed
several steps off and chorused an apology.
Sebas thought, you’re apologizing to the wrong person, but he did not actually
say it.
The men grabbed their unconscious colleague and fled. Sebas did not bother
watching them and instead went over to the fallen boy. However, he stopped in
his tracks halfway.
What was he doing?
Right now, he ought to be dealing with the problem he was facing. Only a fool
would go and take more problems onto himself at a time like this. Had he not
ended up in this precarious state because he was too sympathetic and acted
without thinking?
In any case, the boy had been saved. He would have to be satisfied with that.
That thought crossed Sebas’ mind, but he still headed toward the boy. He
touched the immobile boy’s back and infused a bit of Ki into him. Channeling
the full measure of his Ki would probably heal all his wounds immediately, but
that would be far too eye-catching.
Thus, Sebas did the bare minimum necessary, and then he pointed to someone
who happened to meet his eyes.
“…Please take this boy to the temple. His ribs might be broken, so please take
care when loading him onto a board for transport, and don’t shake him too
much.”
The man Sebas had ordered nodded, and then Sebas strode forth. He did not
need to push to the crowd, because they cleared out of his way when he took a
step forward.

Sebas continued ahead once more. Before long, he sensed that the number of
presences following him had increased.

However, there was one problem — namely, the identity of his tails.
The five people who had followed him from the house were most likely
Succulent’s men. In that case, what about the two who had joined them in
stalking him after he had saved the boy?
They seemed to be grown men by the sound of their footsteps and their pace,
but he had no idea who they were.
“I can’t think of an answer. In any case… I should probably apprehend them
first.”
Sebas turned a corner into a dimly lit region. His followers remained on his
trail.
“…Still, are they really hiding themselves?”
They had not concealed the sounds of their footsteps. Did they lack the ability
to do so, or was there some other reason? He decided not to think overmuch on
the matter. After all, he could verify the truth after capturing them. Sebas
decided to make his move once he could no longer sense the presence of others
around them.
Just then, a hoarse — but youthful — male voice came from one of the people
who had been following him.
“—Excuse me!”

3

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 10:27
Climb was thinking on his way back to the Royal Palace.
He thought about the battle he had fought with Gazef that morning, replaying
the fight in his mind over and over again and considering how to fight with
greater skill. What tactics will I try if I get another chance? he thought.
Just as Climb slowly reached his conclusion, he saw a group of people huddled
up in front of him. Angry cries came from them, and two guards watched from
afar, unsure of what to do.
The sounds of an argument came from the center of group, and it did not
sound like an ordinary squabble.
Climb’s expression turned cold, and he walked up beside the guards.
“What are you doing?”
The guard jumped in fright, given that someone had called out to him from
behind, and he turned to look at Climb.
The man wore a chain shirt and carried a spear. He wore a surcoat emblazoned
with the Kingdom’s crest on top of the chain shirt. This was the standard
uniform of the average guard in the Kingdom, but Climb could sense that neither
of the people in front of him was well-trained.
To begin with, neither of them had honed physiques. For that matter, they
were also unshaven and their chain shirts had not been polished. A faint air of
grime hung about them and they seemed quite slovenly in overall appearance.
“You are…”
Climb was younger than himself, so the guard responded to him with a tone

that was a mix of bafflement and annoyance.
“I’m off-duty at the moment.”
Confusion spread across the guard’s face as he heard Climb’s staunchly

insistent voice. Perhaps it was because he radiated an aura of superiority despite
being younger than them.

The guards seemed to have concluded that they could not go wrong by taking
a submissive posture, and they straightened up.

“Seems to be a civilian disturbance.”
Climb resisted the urge to castigate them by saying I knew that already. Unlike
the Palace guards, the guards who patrolled the city were drawn from the civilian
populace and were not well-trained. In truth, they were merely civilians who
knew how to use weapons.
Climb turned his eyes from the nervous guards to the crowd. It would be
quicker to settle the matter in person than wait for them to do anything.
While poking his nose into guard business might be considered an
overstepping of his authority, he would not be able to face his beloved mistress
if he simply stood by while a citizen was being ill-treated.
“You wait here.”
Without waiting for their reply, Climb firmed up his resolve and pushed into
the crowd, forcefully thrusting his body in. While there were spaces between
each person, he was unable to get through the through. No, it would not be
normal for anyone to be able to do it.
He was nearly shoved back out, but he struggled to shove his way forward.
This was when he heard a voice from the center of the crowd.
“…Begone.”
“Ah? The fuck you say, old man?”
“I’ll say it again — begone.”
“Damn geezer!”
This was bad.
Those thugs were not satisfied with the beating they had administered; now
they wanted to strike an old man as well.
Climb’s face flushed red as he desperately shoved his way forward, and when
he got through the crowd, he saw the figure of an old man before him. He was
surrounded by a group of younger man. At their feet was a boy who had been
beaten so badly he looked like a crumpled rag.
The old man was elegantly dressed, and gave off the feeling of being nobility

or the servant of nobility. The men surrounding him were muscular and looked
drunk. The villainous side was apparent at a glance.

One of the men — the one who looked the most muscular — clenched his fist.
Compared to him, the old man seemed far inferior, be it in the sturdiness of
their bodies, the bulging of their muscles, or their bloodthirsty brutality. Surely
the younger man could easily send the old man flying with but a swing of his fist.
The people around them realized this, and gasped in horror at the tragedy which
was about to befall the old man.

Amidst all this, only Climb felt that something was strange.
Indeed, the younger man looked stronger. Yet, Climb could sense an aura of
absolute power coming from the old man.
He froze for a moment, and lost his chance to curb the younger man’s
violence. The man raised his fist—
—And then he collapsed limply to the ground.
The people around Climb exclaimed in shock.
It would seem that the old man had made a fist and struck the other man
square on his chin, at incredible speed. Even Climb’s honed vision could barely
keep up with the swiftness of that blow.
“Do you still wish to fight?”
The old man directed this calm and grave question at the remaining men.
The combination of his inscrutable exterior and his calm tone broke through
the men’s drunkenness. No — even the people around them had been frightened
by his presence. The men had lost all will to fight.
“Er, um. We, we’re sorry.”
The men backed up and chorused an apology, and then they grabbed their
colleague — who had been disgracefully laid out on the ground — and fled with
their tails between their legs. Climb did not think about following those men.
After all, the old man’s ramrod-straight posture, with his chest upthrust, had
stolen his heart and left him frozen in place.
He looked like a masterwork blade. It was a sight that would fill any warrior
who saw it with reverence. Small wonder that he could not move.
The old man patted the fallen boy’s back, as though examining his wounds,
and then he ordered a passer-by to get the boy to treatment before striding off.
The crowd cleared a path for the old man to walk. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on
his back, such was the allure of the old man’s presence.
Climb hurried over to the fallen boy and then took out the potion Gazef had

given him after their training session.
“Can you drink this?”
There was no answer. He had fainted dead away.
Climb opened the bottle and poured the liquid on the boy’s body. Many people

believed that potions had to be drunk, but the fact was that it would work even
when splashed on the flesh. Magic was truly great.

The boy’s skin seemed to absorb the liquid as it disappeared into his body, and
the color returned to the boy’s face.

Climb nodded in relief.
As the crowd realized Climb had just used an expensive item like that potion,
they were every bit as awed by him as they were by the old man’s preternatural
skill.
Climb did not regret using the potion. Having taken the people’s taxes, it was
only natural that he — as one who lived on said taxes — should protect them
and maintain public order. He felt that he ought to be able to do that much, even
if he could not defend the people.
The boy ought to be alright now that Climb had given him the potion, but it
would be best for him to go to the temple just to be safe. He looked to the guards
standing by and noticed that the pair had become a trio. Apparently someone
had arrived late.
The crowd had been tossing critical glances at the guards ever since just now.
Climb addressed a very uncomfortable-looking guard:
“Take this boy to the temple.”
“What happened to him…?”
“Someone assaulted him. I’ve already used a healing potion on him so he
should be alright, but I hope you’ll take him to the temple for a checkup, for
safety’s sake.”
“Yes. Understood!”
After handing the cleanup to the guards, Climb concluded that there was
nothing left for him to do here. As a soldier assigned to the Palace, it would be
better not to interfere in the matters of other places.
“Can I trouble you to question any eyewitnesses about the details of what
happened here?”
“Understood.”
“Then I’ll leave the rest to you.”
Climb noted that the guards seemed to have gained confidence and moved

more quickly upon receiving their orders. He ran ahead without another word.
“Where are you going…” one of the guards called, but Climb ignored him.
He only slowed down when he reached the corner which the old man had

taken.
After that, he began trailing the old man.
Soon, he saw the old man walking along the street.
He wanted to call out to him, but he could not work up the courage to do so.

That was because he sensed an invisible wall between them; a sense of awesome
power that seemed to crush him.

The old man turned a corner and headed into a darker region. Climb followed.
He was walking behind the old man, yet he did not dare speak up and address
him.

Was Climb not stalking him?
Climb began to feel annoyed by what he was doing. Even if he did not know
how to approach the old man, he could not keep following him like this. In an
effort to change the situation, Climb continued following in silence.
Once they had entered an empty back alley, Climb took several deep breaths,
as though he were a boy psyching himself up to confess his love to a girl. Then
he summoned his courage and said:
“—Excuse me!”
The old man turned around after hearing someone call out to him.
His hair was white, as was his beard. However, his back was straight, like a fine
blade forged of steel. His handsome face was wrinkled, giving a kindly cast to his
features, but his eyes were keen and as focused on their prey as those of an
eagle’s.
He even had an air of nobility about him.
“Is something the matter?”
The old man’s voice sounded somewhat aged, but it overflowed with an
undeniable vitality. Climb felt an invisible pressure rolling out towards him and
he gulped.
“Ah, ah—”
Climb could not speak, overwhelmed as he was by the man’s presence. As he
saw this, the old man appeared to relax and let the tension escape from his body.
“And who might you be?”
His tone was gentle. Released from the immense, crushing strain, Climb’s
throat regained its ability to function.

“…My name is Climb, and I am a humble soldier of this nation. Thank you for
your courageous action in completing a task that should have been rightfully
mine.”

Climb bowed deeply in thanks. The old man fell into thought, then narrowed
his eyes. After that, he quietly went “Ah…” as he realized what Climb meant.

“…It’s fine. Then, I’ll be going.”
The old man broke off the conversation and made to leave, but Climb then
raised his head and asked:
“Please wait. Actually… well, this is somewhat embarrassing, but I’ve been
following you for a while because I have a request to make of you. I know I might
sound like I’m trying to bite off more than I can chew, and you are free to laugh
at me, but if you don’t mind, could you teach me your technique from just now?”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Ah. I have been studying the martial arts for a long time and I would like to
improve my skills further. After I saw that impeccable movement of yours just
now, I was hoping that you could teach me a little of your technique, if it pleases
you.”
The old man sized up Climb.
“Hm… show me your hands.”
Climb extended his hands, and the old man carefully examined his palms. It
made Climb feel a little awkward. The old man turned his hands over, glanced at
his nails, and nodded in satisfaction.
“Thick and hard. These are truly a warrior’s hands.”
Climb’s chest heated up as he heard the other man praise him. The joy in his
heart was much like how he had felt when Gazef had offered his own words of
praise.
“No, someone like me… is barely hanging on to the title of warrior.”
“I don’t think you need to be so humble… May I see your sword next?”
The old man accepted the sword and inspected the handle. Then he turned
his keen gaze on the sword’s blade.
“I see… is this a backup weapon?”
“How did you know!?”
“As I thought. Look, do you see this dent here?”
Climb looked at where the old man was pointing. Sure enough, part of the
blade had been damaged; probably from when he had struck poorly during that
practice bout.

“I apologize for this shameful display!”
Climb was so embarrassed that he wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground.
Climb knew that his skills needed further refinement, so he had gone to
almost neurotic lengths to care for his weapons, in order to improve his chances
of victory. Or at least, he thought he had… until now.
“I see. I think I have a handle on you now. For a warrior, his weapon is like a
mirror which reflects his personality. You are a very admirable man.”
The tips of Climb’s ears were still burning as he raised his head to look at the
old man.
He saw a benign smile, gentle and full of grace.
“I understand. Then, I shall try to train you a little. However—”
Just as Climb was about to offer his thanks, the old man interrupted him and
continued speaking.
“I have a matter I would like to consult you about. You said you were a soldier,
am I correct? Well, several days ago, I rescued a girl—”
After listening to the old man’s — Sebas’ — story, he was livid with rage.
He could not hide his displeasure at the fact that Renner’s slave manumission
laws had been misused in such a way, and that things had not changed until now.
No, that’s not right. Climb shook his head.
The Kingdom’s laws forbade trading in slaves. That said, it was a common
sight for people to be forced to work in poor conditions in order to pay their
debts. Loopholes like those were everywhere. In fact, it was because of them that
the law against slavery had been passed.
Renner’s laws were useless. That chilling thought swept through his mind for a
moment, However. he soon chased that thought away. Right now, he had to
think about Sebas’ situation.
Climb furrowed his brow.
Sebas was in a very bad position. Perhaps if they could investigate the girl’s
contract, they could turn it against them, but Climb did not think the opposition
would not have prepared for that eventuality.
If this matter went to the courts, Sebas would lose for sure.
His adversaries had probably not filed a suit because they felt they could soak
him for more money this way.
“Do you know of any righteous individuals who could aid me in this matter?”
Climb only knew one such person — his mistress. He could say with all
confidence that no noble was more upright and trustworthy than her.

Of course, he could not introduce Renner to him.
Given that these people could go to those lengths, they must surely have far-
reaching connections within the halls of power. Any nobles involved with them
were sure to be movers and shakers. If the Princess — who was affiliated with
the Royal Faction — attempted to investigate or send aid and thus damaged a
member of the Noble Faction, it might well spark all-out war between both sides.
The use of power was a tricky business, especially in a divided country like the
Kingdom. Civil War was a very real consequence of handling the situation
poorly.
He could not make Renner do something that would tear the country apart.
That was the conclusion he had reached while talking to Lakyus and the
others. That was why Climb had said nothing — no, could not say anything.
“I see,” Sebas said quietly.
There was no telling how he had managed to pick up on Climb’s inner turmoil,
but those words had a palpable impact on Climb.
“…According to her, there were several others there, both men and women.”
How could this be? There ought to be only one brothel run by the Slavery Division.
Is there another? Or… is that place the brothel we were talking about earlier?
“Perhaps we could think of a way to free them… I have to ask my liege first,
but given that my liege controls a domain, if we could let those people escape
there…”
“Can you do it? …Does that mean she could take shelter there too?”
“…Forgive me, Sebas-sama. I will need to clear that with my liege as well.
However, my liege is big-hearted. I don’t think there’ll be a problem!”
“Oh… Your liege must be an amazing person if you hold them in such high
regard.”
Climb nodded deeply in response to Sebas. Indeed, there was no greater
mistress than Renner.
“Let’s move onto another topic. What would happen if there was evidence
that this brothel violated the law? For instance, if they were proven to be
involved in the slave trade. Would this evidence be destroyed as well?”
“The possibility does exist, but once the relevant information is taken to the
proper authorities… I hope the Kingdom has not decayed to that extent yet.”
“…I understand. Then, another question, if you please. Why do you want to
become stronger?”
“Eh?” Climb squeaked. That was only to be expected, given that this topic

change was more drastic than the last.
“You just said that you wanted me to train you. I trust you, but I would also

like to know why you wish to become stronger.”
Climb narrowed his eyes at Sebas’ question.
Why did he want to become stronger?
Climb had been an abandoned child. He had not even seen the faces of his

parents. That was not an unusual occurrence in the Kingdom. Orphans dying in
the mud was hardly big news.

Climb had originally been fated to die in such a way on that rainy day.
And then — on that day, Climb had seen the sun. He — a being who could
only crawl amidst the muck and filth — had been deeply entranced by that gross
incandescence.
As a child, he had only felt admiration. But as he grew older, that feeling inside
him grew ever more unshakeable.
—It was love.
He had to quash that emotion. It was a miracle, of the kinds which the bards
sang in the heroic sagas. It could not possibly take place in real life. Just as no
man could touch the sun, Climb’s feeling would not be able to reach her. No, he
could not do so.
The woman whom Climb loved so deeply was destined to be someone else’s
bride. As a princess, she could not belong to someone like Climb, whose origins
were unclear, and who was even lower than a commoner.
If the King passed away, the First Prince would inherit the throne, and Renner
would be married off to one of the Great Nobles. In all likelihood, the Prince had
already arranged something like this with one of them. She might even be sent
to another country as part of a political marriage.
The fact that Renner — who was of marriageable age — was still single and
had no fiancé was quite surprising.
Their time together was so precious that he would pay any price to halt the
march of the clock’s hands, just so he could preserve these golden moments
forever. If he did not spend his time on training, he could enjoy more of these
moments.
Climb had no talent. He was a mere man. Through repeated practice, he had
become quite strong for a mere soldier. Then, should he not be content with
that? Should he not stop training, stay by Renner’s side and not waste their brief
time together?

But — would that really be a good thing?
Climb admired that sun-like brilliance. It was not a lie, and neither was he
mistaken. It was Climb’s sincere wish.
However—
“It’s because I’m a man.”
Climb smiled.
Indeed. Climb wanted to stand by Renner’s side. The sun shone brilliantly in
the sky, and a mere man could not hope to reach it. Even so, Climb wanted to
climb the highest peaks in order to get as close to it as he could.
He did not want to merely admire and praise the sun from afar.
This was a young man’s feeble wish, but at the same time it was a wish that
perfectly fitted a young man.
He wanted to become a man worthy of being joined to the woman he admired,
even if their union could never be.
He could endure his friendless life, his harsh training, and his labors which
took away from his sleep because of his wish.
Let others laugh at him for his foolishness.
After all, they could not understand how he felt unless they truly loved
someone.

●

Sebas narrowed his eyes as he studied Climb. There was a stern look on his
face, as though he were trying to decipher the compressed subtleties of Climb’s
simple reply.

Then, he nodded.
“After hearing your answer, I have decided how to train you.”
Just as Climb was about to offer his thanks, Sebas’ outstretched hand stopped
him.
“However — and I pray you will forgive my bluntness — you have no talent.
Proper training will take a very long time. However, I do not have that time. I
wish to train you in a way that will show results quickly, but it will be an…
arduous process.”
Climb gulped again.
The look in Sebas’ eyes sent a chill down Climb’s spine.

Those eyes were filled with unbelievable power, exceeding the spiritual
pressure which Gazef exerted when serious. Thus, he could not respond right
away.

“Frankly speaking, you might die.”
He was not joking.
Climb’s instincts told him that much. Climb did not fear death, but he wanted
to die for Renner. He did not want to throw his life away for a selfish reason.
He was not a coward… no, perhaps he might be very craven.
Climb gulped once more, and froze. Silence filled the surroundings for a
while, and he could even hear the clamor from the distance.
“Whether or not you die depends on your attitude… if there is something
important to you, something which makes you want to live, even if it is only to
scrabble along the ground, then it ought to be fine.”
Was he not going to teach him martial arts? That question surfaced in Climb’s
mind, but that was not the question now. He pondered the meaning of Sebas’
words, made sure he understood it, and then gave his response.
“I am prepared for it. I leave the rest to you.”
“Do you believe you will die?”
Climb shook his head. He did not.
That was because Climb would forever have his reason, one which would keep
him clinging to life even if he had to do so by crawling like a worm.
Sebas looked into Climb’s eyes, as though divining his intentions through
them. Then he nodded heavily.
“I understand. Then, we shall begin here.”
“Right here?”
“Yes. It will be quick. A few minutes will do. Please draw your sword.”
What’s he going to do?
Climb drew his sword as asked. His heart was a blend of uneasiness and
confusion about the unknown, with faint underpinnings of curiosity and
expectation.
The sound of the sword leaving its sheath echoed through the cramped alley.
Climb braced his weapon in a middle stance, and Sebas’ eyes were fixed on
him.
“Here I come. Please try and remain conscious.”
And in the next moment —
—It felt as though icy razors had exploded forth in all directions from Sebas.

Climb could no longer speak.
Sebas now stood at the heart of a vortex of murderous intent.
This bloodlust felt like it could crush Climb’s heart in an instant, and it
seemed almost visible as it washed over him like a tsunami. Somewhere in the
distance, he could hear the scream of a soul being pulverized. It felt close to his
side, yet far away, and perhaps the voice might even have been his own.
As the obsidian flow of killing intent swept him away, Climb felt his
consciousness slowly bleaching away into whiteness. This overwhelming terror
made his body want to abandon his mind, which was carried away by the wave
that swamped him.
“…Is that all a ‘man’ is? That was only a warm-up.”
Sebas’ disappointed voice seemed abnormally loud through the depths of
Climb’s fading consciousness.
The meaning of those words pierced Climb deeper than any blade. It even
made him forget the fear before him for a moment.
His heart pounded heavily in his chest.
“Huuuuuuuuuhhhhh!” Climb gasped.
He was terrified. He wanted to run. But he fought the urge to do so, even as
the tears streamed down his cheeks. His hands trembled as they gripped his
sword, and the point of his sword danced around like a demented bumblebee.
His chain shirt made rustling noises from his full-body tremors.
Even so, Climb clenched his chattering teeth and tried to bear up against the
mortal terror which came from Sebas.
Sebas laughed at the pathetic sight before him. Then he brought his right hand
before his eyes and slowly clenched it into a fist. In the blink of an eye, the fist
in front of him was as round as a ball.
He then pulled that fist back, like he was drawing a bow.
Climb understood what was going to happen, and shook his head. Of course,
Sebas paid his response no heed.
“Now then… prepare to die.”
Sebas’ fist ripped through the air with a whoosh, like a fully drawn arrow being
loosed.
—It was instant death.
As time seemed to slow to a crawl, Climb’s instincts spoke to him. The image
of his certain death dominated his mind, like a massive wrecking ball that was
far larger than himself, approaching at incredible speeds. Even if he raised his

sword to block, that fist would surely smash it easily.
His body was frozen. It had gone stiff from tension.
—He could not escape the death before him.
Climb’s resignation to his fate filled him with anger.
If he could not die for Renner, then why had he not died back then? He should

have frozen to death in the rain and shuffled off the mortal coil by himself.
Renner’s beautiful smile appeared before him.
It was said that on the brink of death, people would see their lives flash before

their eyes like a zoetrope. The common opinion the brain was desperately
searching through its past records for a way to escape its current predicament.
However, it was somewhat laughable that the last thing Climb would see was the
smile of his beloved princess.

Indeed, Climb saw Renner as she smiled.
When she had saved him, the young Renner had not smiled. When had she
started smiling upon him?
He could not remember. However, he vividly remembered Renner’s timid
smile from back then.
How would she react if she learned that Climb had died? Would that smile
darken, like the clouds obscuring the sun?
—Are you kidding me?!
A blaze of anger roared up within Climb’s heart.
She had picked up the life of his that had been thrown away along the roadside.
That would mean his life was no longer his own. He lived for Renner… to grant
her joy, however minuscule it might be—
Isn’t there any way I can get out of this—!
The exploding passion within him burst the chains of fear that held him
prisoner.
His hands could move.
His legs could move.
The eyes that sought only to be closed slowly opened, desperately seeking the
image of the fist which was streaking in at him.
His senses were pushed to their very limit, to the point where he could even
sense the faint movements of particles in the air.
There was a phenomenon called an “adrenaline rush,” where the brains of
people in extreme duress would release the limits on their physical bodies,
allowing for a burst of incredible power.

At the same time, the brain would secrete vast quantities of hormones and the
mind’s full capacity would be focused on survival. The brain would compute vast
quantities of information to find the best possible way to live on.

In that moment, Climb had stepped into the realm of a first-rate warrior. Yet,
the speed of Sebas’ attack was beyond even that lofty domain. Perhaps it was too
late to dodge Sebas’ fist. Perhaps it had always been too late. Even so, he still
had to move. He could not give up here.

As time slowed to a crawl, Climb saw that his own movements were as slow
as molasses. But still, he turned himself, trying to move.

And then—
Sebas’ fist roared past Climb’s face, with the sound of thunder. The gale which
followed clipped off several strands of Climb’s hair.
A calm voice filtered into his ears.
“Congratulations. How does it feel to conquer the fear of death?”
“……”
Climb stood there dumbly, unable to understand his meaning.
“How was it like to face death? How was it like to surpass it?”
Climb breathed heavily, looking at Sebas like his soul had been stolen away.
There was no hostility around Sebas, as though it had been nothing more than a
lie. He relaxed as he began to realize Sebas’ intent.
Climb collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut, as though he had
been supported by the murderous intent from just now.
He fell on all fours in the alley, hungrily gasping fresh air into his lungs.
“…Fortunately you did not die from shock. These things happen when one is
so certain of one’s death that one gives up the will to live.”
There was a bitter taste in the depths of Climb’s throat. He was certain that
it was the taste of death.
“If you repeat this a few more times, I am sure you will be able to overcome
ordinary fear. However, one thing you must know is that fear triggers the
survival instinct. If you are numbed to that sense, then you will be unable to feel
even clear and present danger. You must be able to clearly tell when a true threat
approaches.”
“…For-forgive me for prying, but what kind of man are you?” Climb groaned
from his place on the ground.
“What do you mean?”
“That, that killing intent was not normal. What exactly…”

“I am simply an old man who has some confidence in his skills. For now.”
Climb could not tear his eyes away from Sebas’ face. What seemed to be a
congenial smile also looked like a savage grin from one of absolute power; one
who far surpassed Gazef.
He was probably a being who was greater than Gazef, himself the mightiest
warrior of the surrounding nations.
—Climb willed his curiosity to be satisfied. He felt it would be best not to
continue prying into that mystery.
Even so, where had the old gentleman Sebas come from? That was the sole
question that burned within his heart. He even wondered, Could he be one of the
Thirteen Heroes?
“Then, let us try again—”
“—Wait! Please wait! I have something to ask you two.”
The voice of a frightened man interrupted Sebas from behind.

4

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 10:27
Brain left Gazef’s home.
He looked back and thought about how he would get back, and then he
committed the house’s exterior appearance to memory. His mind had been
blurred from hypothermia when Gazef brought him here, so his memories from
back then were hazy.
He knew Gazef’s address because he had been planning to challenge the man
to a duel someday. However, that information had been gathered by word of
mouth, and it was somewhat inaccurate.
“There’s no sword stuck in the roof.”
He cursed the information broker who had told him that, and carefully
inspected the house.
It was much smaller than the noble residences, and it looked more like a
commoner’s dwelling. However, it was more than enough for Gazef and the
husband and wife who lived there with him.
After memorizing the house’s exterior, Brain set forth.
He did not have any particular destination in mind.
He did not want to buy weapons, armor or magic items.
“What should I do from now on…”
His mumbled voice faded into the air.
He was not particularly opposed to just vanishing somewhere. In fact, the
notion was still quite attractive to him.
He searched within himself for what he should do next, but he found only a

yawning void within his heart. His goal had been destroyed, utterly annihilated
without leaving a trace behind.

That being the case, why—
He looked down to his right hand, which still held his Katana. He still had his
chain shirt on under his clothes.
It was fear that had kept his sword in hand during his journey to the Royal
Capital. He knew that his blade was useless against that monster who could
deflect his best attacks with the fingernail on her pinky, but going unarmed still
frightened him.
That being the case, why was he still holding his blade? He could have left it
in Gazef’s home. Was it because he was still afraid?
Brain thought about it, and then shook his head.
That was not it.
In that case, why was he holding his Katana? In the end, the answer still eluded
him.
Brain recalled the first time he had come to the Royal Capital as he walked.
Some buildings had remained the same, like the Magician’s Guild or the Royal
Palace, but there were many new buildings which were absent from his
memories. Just as Brain was savoring the difference between his memories and
reality, he noticed a commotion ahead of him.
The noise made him furrow his brows. He sensed violence coming from the
crowd ahead.
Brain was about to turn and head elsewhere when an old man caught his eyes.
The old man wormed into the crowd, like he was sliding his way in.
“…What, what’s that? What’s with the way he’s moving?”
He blinked several times, unconsciously gasping in awe. The old man’s
movements beggared belief. Brain wondered if he was dreaming, or if he had
been affected by some kind of magic.
Perhaps even Brain might not be able to move as the old man had. It was a
godly technique that required one to keenly grasp the will of one’s counterpart,
or in this case, the flows of strength and motion within the entire crowd.
—In other words, those movements were at a sort of a pinnacle.
His feet carried him toward the crowd without hesitation.
Brain shoved others out of the way, and when he reached the center, he saw
the instant when the old man struck the younger man’s chin.
What? Could I… could I have blocked that blow just now? It’d be hard, right? Did he

draw away the other man’s vision and attention? Am I overthinking this? Still, that
was a magnificent strike. You could teach it in a textbook…

He grunted to himself as he replayed the punch he had just seen in his mind.
Granted, he had not gotten a good look at it, and it was very difficult to
measure swordsmen and pugilists on the same scale. Even so, that brief glimpse
had made Brain realize that the old man before him was incredibly skilled.
For all he knew, that old man might even be stronger than himself.
Brain bit his lower lip as he compared the profile of the old man’s face to the
list of martial exponents in his memory. However, he did not find a match.
Who on earth is he?
The old man left the crowd in an instant. A teenaged boy trailed behind him.
On a whim, Brain followed the boy, as though he had been hooked by some bait.
His instincts told him that the man had eyes in the back of his head, so did not
dare tail him directly. However, if he followed the youth, he would not have to
worry about being spotted. From a more cunning point of view, he would still be
safe even if the boy was discovered.
While following them, Brain sensed several other presences. However, Brain
did not care about them.
Before long, the two of them turned a corner and entered a darkened area.
Brain felt uneasy, because that move seemed like it was calculated to lure him
into a trap.
Doesn’t that kid find it strange? Just as he began to feel surprised, the boy spoke
to the old man.
The two of them spoke near the turning point of an alley. Thus, Brain took
cover around the bend and eavesdropped on them.
In summary, the boy was asking the old man to train him.
As if. An old man like that would never accept a punk like that as a disciple.
If one were to compare the two of them, the boy would be a pebble, while the
old man was a gigantic gemstone. The two of them lived in completely different
worlds.
…How sad. Not knowing how badly you’re outclassed is truly sad. Give it up, kid.
Brain did not speak those words, merely mumbled them to himself.
Those words were directed at the boy, and they were also a frank criticism of
an utter idiot who had once thought himself invincible — namely, his past self.
He continued listening in — although he had no interest in the brothel — and
it would seem that the old man was willing to train the youth up. Brain had no

idea what that kid had to offer that interested that amazing old man.
What’s this? Have I misjudged someone again? No, that can’t be. That kid has little

ability as a warrior. Surely he can’t have any talent!
How was the old man going to train him? He could only hear them from here,

but he could not see what was going on. Curious, Brain concealed his presence
and eased himself forward to spy on them. But before he knew it—

A terrifying aura shot through him.
He screamed wordlessly.
His entire body froze.
It felt like a massive carnivore pressing its face against his and exhaling all
over him. The oncoming torrent of murderous intent actually dyed the world a
different color. He could not even blink, much less move. For a moment he
thought his heart had stopped beating.
Brain felt that Shalltear Bloodfallen was the most powerful being in the world,
but what he felt now was comparable to her.
It might actually have stopped the heart of a weak-willed person.
His legs trembled, and then dumped him onto his butt upon the ground.
Even I’ve been reduced to this state. Doesn’t that mean that kid’s going to drop dead
on the spot?
If he were lucky, he might pass out first.
Brain crawled along the ground, nervously stealing a glance at the two of
them. What he saw shocked him to the core, to the point where he forgot his
fear for a moment.
The kid was still standing.
His legs were trembling like Brain’s had. But he was still standing.
What, what’s going on? Why is that talentless punk still on his feet?!
Brain could not understand why the youth could still stand while fear had
reduced his legs to a puddle of quivering jelly.
Did he have some sort of magic item or martial art which resisted fear? Or did
he have some special talent?
Indeed, there was no way to guarantee he did not possess such an item.
However, his instincts told him that none of the above applied as he looked at
the kid’s wavering back. The answer was hard to believe, but it was the only one
possible.
That kid was stronger than Brain.
Impossible! It can’t be!

The kid looked like he had been training himself, but he did not have enough
muscle on him. After observing the way that the kid moved while trailing him,
Brain had concluded that the kid was hardly talented. And yet, this average kid
was standing where he had fallen.

What, what’s going on? Am I really that weak?
His vision blurred.
Brain knew he was crying, but he could not bring himself to wipe his tears.
He tried to swallow his moaning, but the tears continued flowing regardless.
“Why, ah… why?”
Brain clutched at the dirt and tried to force himself back to his feet. However,
the tsunami of killing will rendered him immobile. His legs refused to move, as
though under someone else’s control. All he could do was lift his head and watch
the two of them.
He saw a back.
The boy was still standing, even now.
The boy could still stand against that old man and his wave of murderous
intent. That feeble back now seemed so far out of his reach.
“Am I…”
Was he really that weak?
By the time the surge of bloodlust had dispersed like mist, he had only
managed to get back onto his feet. That fact frustrated Brain.
The old man and the boy looked like they were going to train further, but
Brain could no longer contain himself. Gathering up his courage, he rushed out
from around the corner and shouted:
“—Wait! Please wait!”
Brain no longer thought about not interrupting their training session, or even
picking a good time to make his appearance.
The youth turned around as he heard that desperate cry. His shoulders
shuddered and there was a look of shock on his face. In his position, Brain would
probably have done the same.
“First, please let me apologize to the two of you. I simply could not wait any
longer.”
“…Do you know him, Sebas-sama?”
“No, I do not. I see, so he was not a friend of yours either.”
The two of them turned suspicious looks on him, but Brain had already
expected as much.

“Please allow this one to state his name. This one’s name is Brain Unglaus.
Please permit this one to apologize once more to the two of you. I really am very
sorry for this.”

He bowed lower than he had before, and he could sense a slight movement
from both of them.

After waiting for a sufficiently long time to convey his sincerity, Brain raised
his head, and he sensed that their caution towards him had dulled somewhat.

“Then, what brings you here?”
In response to the old man’s question, Brain glanced at the youth.
“How did you do it?”
As he saw the clueless look on the kid’s face, Brain asked once more, like he
was coughing up blood.
“How… how could you remain standing before that murderous intent?!”
The boy’s eyes went wide. Since he typically feigned a blank look on his face,
even this small change signaled a huge emotional upheaval inside him.
“I just wanted to know. That surge of bloodlust was more than most people
could bear. Even I… pardon, even this one could not endure it. Yet you were
different. You endured it. You stood against it. How did you do it? How did you
accomplish such a feat?!”
His excitement was making him repeat himself, but he could not tamp it
down. When faced with the overwhelming power of Shalltear Bloodfallen, he had
been so afraid that he had fled. Yet, this boy had faced the same degree of killing
will and held his ground. He wanted to know what the difference between them
was.
He had to find out, no matter the cost.
Brain seemed to have conveyed his earnest passion to the kid. He was
confused, but he carefully considered the matter before answering:
“…I don’t know. I don’t understand it myself. I have no idea how I could take
that storm of bloodlust. Still, maybe… maybe it was because I was thinking of
my liege.”
“…Your liege?”
“Yes. As long as I think of the great person whom I serve… I have the strength
to carry on.”
How could anyone endure like that for such a reason?! Brain almost shouted. But
before that, the old man quietly explained his meaning.
“In other words, his loyalty was sufficient to overcome his fear, Unglaus-san.

People can exert great strength for something they cherish. For instance, a
mother can hold up a pillar in a collapsing house to save her children, or a
husband could hold up his wife with one hand before she falls. I feel that is the
power of mankind. In other words, this young man has tapped on that power. It
is also not limited to him. As long as you have something which you will not
forsake, you will certainly be able to draw on strength you could never have
imagined.”

Brain could not believe it. His goal, the thing he would not forsake — was his
thirst for strength. But that was meaningless now. That dream had been
shattered with ease, and all he could do was run in fear.

Brain’s face turned gloomy, and he lowered his head to look at the ground.
Then, the old man’s next words made him jerk his head up again.

“…Something built up by yourself is fragile. Once you fall, it is the end for you.
Do not rely on yourself for everything. If you can build your confidence with
someone else and give of yourself for others, then you will not fall even if you
suffer a setback.”

Brain fell silent. Did he have something like that?
He could not think of anything. That was because he had abandoned
everything else save his quest for the sword. Could be that the things he had
discarded in his search for strength were actually the most important things?
Brain could not help but laugh. He laughed at his mistake-filled life. Neither
could he help the bitter complaint that next escaped him.
“I abandoned it all. Is it too late for me to take them back?”
“You’ll be fine. Even someone without talent like me managed to do it.
Someone like you can surely do it too, Unglaus-san! It’s definitely not too late
for you!”
There was no basis to the young man’s words. Yet, strangely enough, his
words warmed Brain’s heart.
“You really are a gentle and strong person… I am truly sorry.”
The boy froze as Brain apologized to him out of the blue.
Brain had taken such a brave lad as a punk and looked down on him.
I’m a fool. I’m such a fool…
“Ah, yes, you said you were called Brain Unglaus… were you the same Brain
Unglaus who fought Stronoff-sama to a draw in the past?”
“…So you knew that too… Did you watch that fight?”
“Ah, I didn’t. I just heard someone talk about it. Stronoff-sama said that you

were an amazing swordsman, and that you were easily in the running for the
strongest man in the Kingdom. After seeing your movements and calm poise, I
now realize the truth of Stronoff-sama’s words!”

Swamped by the sheer force of Climb’s goodwill, Brain struggled to stammer
out an answer.

“…Er, thanks… thank you. I feel I’ve got a long way to go, but it… pleases me
to receive such praise from you.”

“Hm… Unglaus-san.”
“Sir, please call me Unglaus. There is no need for you to be so formal to a
mook like myself.”
“In that case, I am Sebas Tian, but I hope you will call me Sebas… Now then,
Unglaus-kun.”
Being addressed as “-kun” embarrassed Brain a little, but given the difference
in their ages, such a term was only fitting.
“Can I entrust you with training of Climb-kun? I believe that will be beneficial
to you as well, Unglaus-kun.”
“Ah! Forgive me! My name is Climb, Unglaus-sama.”
“Were you not going to be trained by him… forgive me. Was Sebas-sama not
going to train you? I believe I interrupted the two of you while you were in the
middle of discussing something…?”
“Indeed. That was my original intention, but it would seem we have guests. I
had intended to call them over — ah, they are here. It would seem they took a
while to prepare themselves for battle.”
Sebas looked off to one side. Brain took a bit longer to look in the same
direction.
Three men slowly revealed themselves. They wore chain shirts and carried
sharp daggers in hands protected by heavy leather gloves.
They were not radiating hostility, but full-on murderous intent. Said intent
seemed to be directed at the old man, but they did not look like the kind who
would let witnesses live.
Brain was visibly shocked as he saw them, and he screamed:
“No way! They’re still coming even after feeling that bloodlust? Just how
strong are these people?!”
If that were the case, then each of them was probably on par with Brain — no,
they would be stronger than him. Could it be that their lousy tailing skills were
because they were trained warriors who were not adept at following others?

And then, Sebas eased Brain’s worries.
“I trust you’re aware that I only directed my will at the two of you, right?”
“…Eh?”
Even Brain felt that his reply sounded very stupid.
“The murderous intent directed at Climb-kun was to train him. In your case,
it was because I did not know who you were, and wanted to draw you out. Either
that, or sap your will to fight, hostility and so on. But I viewed them as enemies
from the start, so I did not direct my killing intent at them. It would be bad to
frighten them off.”
Brain was shocked beyond the capacity to even express it as he heard Sebas
casually explain the startling truth. Being able to finely control killing will of that
intensity was beyond what he knew to be possible.
“I, I see. Then, do you know who they are, Sebas-sama?”
“I can guess. Still, I cannot be sure. Thus, I wish to capture one or two of them
for questioning. However—”
Sebas dipped his head in apology.
“It would seem I accidentally involved the two of you in this. May I trouble
the two of you to leave this place?”
“Before that, I wish to ask you a question. Are they… criminals?”
“…They feel that way to me. They’re obviously the evil-doing sort.”
A fire blazed up in Climb’s eyes as he heard Brain say that.
“Perhaps this might be getting in your way, but I wish to fight as well. As a
man who protects the public order of the Royal Capital, it falls to me to defend
its people as well.”
It’s not like we’re sure that Sebas is on the side of good here, Brain thought to
himself as he played devil’s advocate to that statement. Indeed, given his honest
and straightforward attitude, Sebas certainly seemed to be in the right compared
to that lot. However, they could not be sure of that.
He’s really green…
Still, he could understand how the kid felt.
Even Brain could instantly conclude who to help, between the man who had
saved a kid from a bunch of drunken toughs and the other men.
“Personally, I don’t really think you need the help, but… Sebas-sama. Please
allow me… er, no, please allow this one to lend you a hand.”
Brain took his place by Climb’s side. Sebas did not need their aid. Indeed, he
had even said that they could leave and he would be fine. However, he wanted to

learn from Climb, who fought for others. He wanted to choose the path he would
never have traveled in the past. He wanted to protect the boy with a strong heart,
but whose swordplay was lacking.

Brain saw the weapons they were holding, and frowned.
“Poison, is it… Using a double-edged sword like that indicates they ought to
have some experience under their belts… are they assassins?”
The daggers they were using were called mailbreakers. There were reservoirs
carved into the blades of their weapons, and said reservoirs reflected the oily
glow of a dangerous liquid. The fact that these men seemed to prioritize agility
and ease of movement — unlike professional swordsmen — was a better
indication of the truth than Brain’s self-directed mumblings.
“Climb-kun, you’d best be careful. Unless you have a magic item that resists
poison, don’t let them nick you so much as once.”
Someone with Brain’s level of physical prowess was pretty much immune to
poison, but people like Climb might succumb to strong toxins.
“They’ve appeared in front of us but they’re not making a move yet. Are they
waiting for the other two people to circle around behind us? Since this is a rare
opportunity, why don’t we break through them from the front?”
Sebas deliberately raised his voice loud enough for them to hear, and the
men’s movements froze. They had clearly been shaken by the exposure of their
encirclement plan.
“That seems about right. It would be safest to crush the ones in front and then
mop up the ones behind.”
It would seem Brain shared Sebas’ opinion. However, Sebas himself rejected
Brain’s words.
“Ah, but that would let them get away. How about this — I’ll deal with the
three in front, so could I leave the two circling around behind us to you?”
Brain nodded, and so did Climb. This was Sebas’ fight, and they were the ones
imposing on Sebas to let them help. They ought to listen to Sebas, so long as he
had not made any fatal errors.
“Alright, let’s go.”
After saying that to Climb, Brain turned his back on the men. The reason why
he dared show that defenseless side of himself to those men was because Sebas
was around. As he left his back to Sebas, he felt as safe as though he were
defended by a thick castle wall.
“Well then, while it is a shame… please allow me to be your opponent — oya,

please do not harbor any designs on those two, alright?”
Looking back, Brain saw Sebas with three daggers trapped between the fingers

of his right hand. He opened up his hand and the daggers which they had hurled
at the otherwise-vulnerable Brain and Climb clattered to the ground.

The men’s killing intent was getting weaker.
But of course. Anyone would lose the will to fight after seeing their thrown daggers
blocked in that way. Do you finally see how powerful Sebas-sama is now? However,
you’ve learned that too late.
They were all trapped within the old man’s palm. Even splitting up three ways
would not save them now.
“Amazing.”
Climb stood by Brain’s side,
“Indeed. I’d believe anyone who said that Sebas-sama was the strongest
warrior in the Kingdom.”
“Even stronger than the Warrior-Captain?”
“You mean Stronoff, right? Hm. Well, that old man is someone that I…
myself… … sorry, I’ll speak in a more relaxed tone now. Even if Stronoff and
myself went up against him at once, we’d still lose for sure… oh, here they come.”
The other two men had circled around and appeared behind them. Those two
were dressed the same way as the first three.
The sound of a sword clearing his sheath came from beside Brain, and a
moment later, Brain drew his own blade.
“They probably didn’t keep someone in hiding to throw knives at us because
that old man saw through them.”
Ambushes only worked when they were unexpected. If someone had seen
through it beforehand, then they would only be splitting up their forces. The
enemy must have judged that it would be better to attack all at once now that
they had been exposed.
“How naive… Climb-kun, I’ll take the one on the right. You handle the one on
the left.”
After examining their movements, Brain sensed that one of them was weaker
than the other and indicated as much to the youth beside him. The young man
nodded, and raised his sword. His unhesitating movements were those which
one could only find in those people who had fought for their lives. Brain was
relieved that he was not an untested newcomer to combat.
Climb-kun ought to have the advantage, but… given his opponent uses poison, it

might be a close-fought victory.
Even if Climb had actual combat experience, Brain did not feel that he was a

blooded warrior who had faced poison-using opponents. For all he knew, that
might be his first time doing so.

Even Brain had trouble against monsters who used flesh-corroding acids or
powerful venom. When fighting them, he became overly cautious and could not
bring his full might to bear.

Should I kill this guy immediately and then help him out? Would that help him?
Would it hurt his pride if I went out of my way to help him? Should I fight them on his
behalf? Or did Sebas-sama intend to help if there was any danger? If Sebas-sama
doesn’t step in, does it mean I should? To think the day would come when I’d actually
worry about something like this…

Brain scratched at his head with his free hand and stared down his foe.
“Alright. Do excuse me for using you as a sacrifice to make up for my time
spent idle.”

●

Three hits.
Sebas stepped into range of the three men, who could not even react to him,
much less defend themselves. Then he punched three times and the battle was
over.
But of course. Sebas occupied the pinnacle of Nazarick’s combat power. He
could deal with assassins of that caliber with only the tip of his little finger.
The men keeled over, collapsing limply to the ground like cuttlefish. Sebas
turned away from them and looked at the battle behind him.
Brain had overwhelmed his foe from start to finish, which put him at ease.
The assassin facing him seemed to be looking for a chance to flee, but Brain
did not let him off. In fact he even looked like he was toying with his opponent…
no, that was not playing with him. Sebas sensed that Brain was running through
his repertoire of moves to re-hone his rusty skills.
Right, I think I heard him say something about a “time spent idle.” Also, he seems to
be worried about Climb-kun. Thus he’s not fighting in earnest so he can come to his aid
at any time. He seems like quite a nice fellow.
Sebas turned his attention from Brain to Climb.

Hm, he ought to be alright.
The battle went back and forth. The fact his opponent used poison made him
a little uneasy, but there did not seem to be a need to rescue him right away. He
felt uncomfortable about involving an outsider — particularly one whom he
favored — in his own matters, but—
If he hadn’t said he wanted to become stronger, I’d have gone to assist him. A fight
for one’s life is very good practice. I’ll help him if he’s in danger.
Sebas stroked his beard and observed Climb as he fought.
Climb blocked a thrust with his blade.
A trickle of cold sweat flowed down his back. It had almost hit his armor. A
hint of disappointment flashed across the cruel face of the man he was fighting.
Climb stabbed forward, measuring the distance between the two of them. He
noted that his foe was slowly backing off, and he did not want to let the man get
away.
Climb’s usual fighting style was to defend with the shield and simultaneously
attack with the sword. Being forced to fight with only his sword was a tortuous
experience. The poisoned blade also made him very nervous. Mailbreakers were
weapons specialized for thrusting attacks, so he knew he only had to worry about
thrusts. Even so, the fact that he could not allow himself to be so much as grazed
by the weapon made his movements stiff.
He calmed his breathing, which had been thrown into disarray by his physical
and mental fatigue.
The other guy’s the same too. I’m not the only one who’s tired.
His foe’s forehead was covered in sweat. The man used his agility to make a
mockery of his foe, which was a truly assassin-like way of fighting. Thus,
wounding any of his limbs would make him lose the advantage and upset the
balance of fighting power.
The battle would be decided in one hit.
This was the source of both parties’ tension. Granted, all evenly matched
battles were like that, but it was that much more obvious in this fight.
“Huuuh!”
With a sharp expulsion of breath, Climb swung at his foe. The swing moved
slowly and he did not put much force into it. That was because he would leave
himself wide open if he went for a full swing and his opponent dodged.
The assassin easily dodged it and reached into his breast pocket. Climb
observed the upcoming attack and kept an eye on the assassin’s hand.

A dagger flew forth and Climb cut it out of the air with his sword.
He had been lucky. He had managed to deflect it since he was paying
attention.
However he could not breathe easy just yet. The assassin had already lowered
his stance and slid into attack range.
This is bad!
His spine turned to ice.
He could not block the follow-up hit. He had swung too hard when deflecting
the thrown dagger out of fear. His sword was now hanging out of position in
mid-air, and it was too late for him to turn it back to intercept his foe. He
thought to evade, but the assassin’s agility was superior to his own.
There was nothing else to be done. Maybe he could use his arm as a shield—
Just as he resolved himself, the incoming assassin clutched his face and
stumbled backwards.
It would seem a bean-sized pebble had struck the assassin just above the left
eye. Climb’s perceptions, heightened by the dangerous situation, confirmed that
fact.
He knew who had thrown it even without looking back. Sebas’ voice from
behind him was the best proof of that.
“Fear is an important emotion. But you cannot be ruled by fear. I have been
watching you fight from just now, and I feel that your fighting style is too plain
and conservative. If your foe had been willing to sacrifice one arm, you would
assuredly be dead. If your physical abilities are inferior to your opponent, then
you must defeat them with your spirit. The strength of one’s will can sometimes
surpass the weakness of one’s flesh.”
Climb answered “yes” in his heart, and he was quite surprised to find himself
much more relaxed. He did not feel like he could depend on someone else to
watch him, but he was relieved that someone else was watching him.
Of course, his fear of death was not completely gone, but even so—
“If… if I die, please tell Renner-sama… her Highness… about my glorious
battle.”
He expelled a long breath, and then silently brought his sword up into a ready
stance.
Climb sensed a gleam in the assassin’s eyes that was different from just now.
It had only been a short while, but he felt like he had connected with the
assassin’s spirit on some level during this life or death struggle.

The assassin sensed that Climb was prepared for death, and he seemed to have
placed his life on the line as well.

He stepped forward, without saying a word, of course, and closed the distance
in a single move.

After verifying the assassin was within his attack range, Climb brought his
sword down in a scything chop. At that moment, the assassin leapt back. It would
seem the other man had gotten the measure of Climb’s swings and had used
himself as bait to make a feint at Climb.

However, the assassin had forgotten one thing.
Perhaps he might have grasped the speed of Climb’s. However, he did not
know this move. Climb had the utmost confidence in this downward strike of
his. It was faster than all his other moves, and more forceful.
The chop at the shoulder was stopped by the chain shirt and so it did not
cleave the man bodily in two. However, it easily broke his clavicle and crushed
his flesh along with his shoulder blade.
The assassin collapsed heavily to the ground. He was drooling from the
intense pain and howling in agony.
“Magnificent.”
Sebas appeared behind him and casually stomped on the assassin’s belly.
With that, the assassin fell silent, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
He must have fainted.
From the corner of his eye, he saw that Brain had already finished off his
assassin. He waved casually to Climb to celebrate his victory.
“Then, I shall begin the interrogation. If you have any questions, feel free to
ask.”
Sebas brought over one of the men and slapped him awake. The man regained
consciousness with a shudder, and Sebas placed his hand on the man’s head.
Sebas had not used much force but within two seconds the man’s head lolled
back, then snapped back to its original position like a pendulum.
The man’s eyes were now unfocused, like he was drunk.
Sebas began asking questions. The assassin, a man of a traditionally tight-
lipped profession, sang like a canary. Faced with this bizarre sight, Climb asked
Sebas: “What did you do to him?”
“This is a skill called the [Puppeteer’s Palm]… fortunately, it looks like it
worked.”
Climb had never heard that technique before, but he frowned at what the man

was saying.
They were assassins trained by Six Arms, the strongest combatants of Eight

Fingers. They had apparently followed Sebas in order to kill him. Brain asked
Climb:

“…I don’t know much about them, but Eight Fingers ought to be a major crime
syndicate, right? I think they have connections with some mercenaries…”

“Yes, and Six Arms are the scariest of them all. Six Arms refers to the six
fighters who make up the organization’s strongest fighting force. I heard that
each of them can rival an adamantite-ranked adventurer. However, I’m not sure
exactly who those six people are, since I’m not too clear on the details of their
organization.”

The man went on to say that Succulent, the one who had visited Sebas’ house,
was a member of Six Arms, known as the “Phantom Devil.” His plan was
apparently to eliminate Sebas and do as he pleased with the young lady of the
house.

As he heard this, Climb felt a chill wind blow over him. The source of that cold
was Sebas.

Sebas slowly rose, and Brain addressed him.
“What do you plan to do next, Sebas-sama?”
“I have decided. First, I will destroy that troublesome place. Besides, it would
seem that Succulent is there as well, according to this man. It is best to stamp
out fires before they can grow.”
Brain and Climb both inhaled sharply at that casual answer.
The fact that he had declared his intention to fight his way into the enemy
headquarters indicated that he was confident of defeating an adamantite-ranked
adventurer — in other words, a man whose fighting power was at the zenith of
human achievement.
However, neither of them was surprised.
He could defeat three skilled assassins in the blink of an eye and even the renowned
Unglaus-sama showed deference to him. What sort of man is Sebas-sama? Could he be
a retired adamantite-ranked adventurer?
“…Also, I hear that there are other captives in there. It would be best to move
quickly.”
“That makes sense. If the assassins do not return, it will arouse suspicion. We
will not be able to save the captives if they are moved elsewhere.”
Sebas was in a situation where time was not on his side, but on the enemy’s.

“Then I shall be heading there presently. I apologize, but I am set in my
course. Can I trouble the two of you to drag these assassins to the nearest guard
post?”

“Please wait, Sebas-sama! If you don’t mind, could you let me… could you let
this one lend you a hand? Of course, that is only if you are willing.”

“Me too. Protecting the peace of the Royal Capital is my duty as Renner-
sama’s loyal servant. If the Kingdom’s citizens are being oppressed, this sword
of mine shall hasten to their aid.”

“…I don’t think Unglaus-kun will have a problem, but it might be a bit
dangerous for you.”

“I understand that.”
“Climb-kun… I guess Sebas-sama thinks you might get in the way, no?
Although, I’m probably the same as you in his eyes.”
“No, no, that was not what I meant. I was simply worried about you. I hope
you understand that I cannot protect you like I did just now.”
“I am prepared for that.”
“…What I am doing next might not win honor for you or your mistress, you
know? I feel that there will be other chances for you to stake your life in battle,
do you not think so?”
“If I watch mutely from the side because things are dangerous, that’ll only
prove that I am a man who does not deserve to serve his mistress. Just as my
mistress saved the common folk, I too wish to do everything I can to lend a
helping hand to those who are in dire straits.”
Just like how she reached her hand out to me—
Sebas and Brain looked at each other. Perhaps they had sensed his iron
determination.
“…Are you prepared for this?” Sebas asked.
Climb nodded.
“I understand. That being the case, there is nothing else to be said. I hope the
two of you will lend me a hand.”

Chapter 5 Extinguished Embers, Flying Sparks

Chapter 5 | Extinguished Embers, Flying Sparks

1

Lower Fire Month, 3rd Day – 12:07
“The brothel is just behind this door. According to the assassin, there ought
to be an entrance in the building over there too.”
Sebas stood at the entrance to the brothel, in front of the door where Tsuare
had been thrown out. Then, he pointed at a building several houses away. Brain
and Climb had been present when he was questioning the assassin, but they had
not been to the brothel before, and they accepted Sebas’ explanation at face
value.
“Indeed, that is so. The entrances can also serve as escape routes, and that
person said they’d be manned by at least two people. If we’re splitting up, we
should let you handle the main door, Sebas-sama, while Climb and I take the
other entrance. What do you think?”
“I am not opposed to that. How about you, Climb-kun?”
“I have no objections either. Still, what will we do after we break in, Unglaus-
sama? Shall we search together?”

“Call me Brain in future. This one also humbly requests you do the same,
Sebas-sama. Then… usually, we ought to move in pairs for safety’s sake, but there
might be secret tunnels which even the assassin hasn’t heard of. We should
search the interior as quickly as possible while Sebas-sama makes his assault
from the front. Also, there are usually passages which only the boss knows,”
Brain added quietly.

“In that case, should we split up after going in?”
“…We’re taking a risk just going in anyway. Might as well try for the best
results we can.”
Sebas and Climb nodded at Brain’s statement.
“Could I ask you to search the interior, Un— Brain-sama? You’re stronger
than me, after all.”
“Very well. Then please watch over the exit over there, Climb-kun.”
One was more likely to encounter enemies when searching the inside of the
building. It went to follow that the task would thus be more dangerous.
Therefore, it was best left to Brain, who was much stronger than Climb.
“So that’s it for our final checks, then?”
They had already discussed this matter on the way to the brothel, but there
were some decisions which could only be made after seeing the place in person.
They would hash out the details here, and nobody contradicted Sebas’
statement.
Sebas stepped forward, moving up to the solid-looking metal door. Climb
would never be able to budge that door, but to Sebas it was little more than
tissue paper.
The defenses were bound to be heaviest in this place, but neither of them were
worried about Sebas charging in there by himself. After all the aggressor was
someone whom even Gazef Stronoff — renowned as the mightiest warrior in
the surrounding nations — and Brain Unglaus — who could fight Gazef to a draw
— could not hope to defeat even if they joined forces. This was no longer within
the sphere of human ability.
“Then let us proceed. According to the assassin, the secret signal at the other
entrance is knocking four times on the door. I doubt either of you have
forgotten, but I doubt a reminder will hurt.”
“Thank you, Sebas-sama.”
Climb had not forgotten, but he thanked Sebas anyway.
“Also, I will try to take them alive, but if they resist, I will slay them without

mercy. I trust there will be no problems with that?”
Brain and Climb felt a chill down their spines as they saw Sebas’ gentle smile.
His methods were perfectly sound. Both of them would probably have done

the same if they were in Sebas’ shoes. Even so, a thrill of fear pierced their backs,
because Sebas’ expression and his words made him seem like he had a split
personality.

He was both a kindly gentleman and a cold-blooded warrior. He contained
both humanity and heartlessness within himself to an extreme degree.

They had a premonition that if Sebas went in like this, he might end up
slaughtering everyone inside.

Climb nervously told Sebas:
“I feel that taking a few lives is unavoidable, but it might be good to avoid
needless killing. We are few in number, after all. Still, if you encounter someone
in charge who looks like they’re from Eight Fingers, could I trouble you to try
and capture them? If we can interrogate a big figure among them, we can reduce
the number of lives lost in the future.”
“I am not a mass murderer, and I did not come here for a massacre. Please be
at ease.”
Climb was relieved to see Sebas’ smile.
“Please forgive me. We shall leave the rest to you.”

●

“Now then, destroying this place in one go ought to buy some time.”
Sebas felt that wrecking this brothel ought to put a stop to their interference
with his life. If things went well and he managed to obtain secret documents or
the like, they might end up too busy dealing with the fallout to bother about
Tsuare at all.
However badly things went, he could give Tsuare a chance to escape as long
as he managed to buy some time. And who knew, he might be able to find a better
solution.
“There was a merchant in E-Rantel who approached me for a cordial chat. I
wonder if he could help?”
Tsuare would still need someone trustworthy to aid her even if she managed
to pull herself together. That was the only way she would have a better life.

Sebas turned to face the heavy steel door once more. He remembered that day
when Tsuare had been dumped here as he touched the door’s surface. It was
made of wood sheathed in metal plates, making it both thick and heavy. It was
immediately apparent that an ordinary human being would have a lot of trouble
breaking this door down without tools.

“I wonder if Climb-kun is alright.”
He was not worried about the man called Brain Unglaus. Even if he crossed
blades with Succulent, he probably would not lose. However, Climb was a
different matter. There was no way that Climb could beat Succulent.
It had been Sebas’ idea to storm the brothel, so as one volunteering his
assistance, Climb should have been prepared for his own death. However, Sebas
could not help but think that the young, compassionate man who only wanted
to help would end up losing his life for nothing.
“I wish young men like him could live longer…”
Those words were characteristic of a senior citizen. However, Sebas had been
made in the form of an old man. He was technically younger than Climb, if one
counted from their moment of genesis until right now.
“It would be best if I took down Succulent by myself. That would be the most
ideal course of events. I hope they don’t run into him.”
Sebas prayed to the 41 Supreme Beings for Climb’s safety.
If Succulent was the strongest fighter here, it was very likely he would be
pitted against Sebas. However, if he were a bodyguard, he might be assigned to
escort his charge to safety.
Feeling a little anxious, Sebas grabbed the door’s handle and turned.
It stopped halfway through its turn. Naturally, the door to an underground
enterprise like this would be locked.
“I am not adept at opening locks. However… it can’t be helped. I’ll do it my
way,” Sebas muttered to himself in frustration. Then he lowered himself and
folded his right hand into a knife-hand, moving his left hand forward as he took
a stance. Said stance was immaculate, as stable as the mountains and as
picturesque as a thousand-year-old cedar tree.
“Yeeart!”
What followed next was an unbelievable sight.
His arm sank into the metal door, at the hinge. No, the arm was still making
grinding noises as it bored its way into the door.
The hinges shrieked as they were torn from the wall.

Sebas opened the unresisting door.
“What… the hell…?”
Inside was a passage which ended at a pair of double doors. In front of that
stood a bearded powerhouse of a man. His mouth was open and he had a
retarded look on his face.
“The door was rusty, so I had to use a bit of force to open it. You should
probably oil the hinges.”
Saying so, Sebas closed the door. No, it would be more accurate to say that he
leaned the door against the frame.
While the man was still frozen in shock, Sebas stepped inside without any
hesitation whatsoever.
“—Oi, what was that?”
“The hell was that noise?!”
More male voices came from behind the first one.
However, the man facing Sebas did not bother about them. Instead, he
addressed Sebas:
“…Er… W-welcome?”
Completely baffled, the man stood stock still as Sebas walked up to him. The
people working here were used to violence. However, the scene before him far
exceeded what he had encountered in his accumulated experiences.
The man smiled to Sebas in an ingratiating manner, ignoring the shouted
queries of his colleagues from behind him. His survival instinct told him that the
best choice here was to get into Sebas’ good graces. Or no; perhaps he had
reacted like this because he had deceived himself into thinking Sebas was the
butler of one of the customers here.
The sight of a big, bearded man trying to keep a twitching smile on his face
was quite hard to bear.
Sebas smiled back at him. That smile was gentle and compassionate. Yet,
there was no trace of goodwill in his eyes. It was more like a deadly, entrancing
gleam of light playing along a razor-sharp sword’s edge.
“Could I trouble you to let me pass?”
Thump. Or rather, it was more of a splat. A nauseating sound echoed
throughout the interior.
He was a muscular man in armor. He weighed 85 kilograms at the very least.
He now spun through the air like some kind of joke, flying to the side at speeds
invisible to the naked eye. His body savagely impacted the nearby wall with a wet

splattering sound.
The entire building shook violently, as though a giant’s fist had struck it.
“…Oh dear. I should have killed him deeper inside. That way he’d have made

a better barricade… ah well. There’s more coming anyway, so I just need to be
more careful afterward.”

After admonishing himself to go easier next time, Sebas walked past the
corpse and headed within.

He flung the doors open and entered the room beyond. It was an exquisitely
furnished viewing room. It felt more like he was walking through an empty
house than invading an enemy base.

There were two men within.
Their eyes goggled open and their jaws dropped as they looked behind Sebas,
at the enormous blood splatter that had painted the entire wall red.
The smell of cheap alcohol hung in the air — a scent which one would never
find in Nazarick. It blended immediately with the stench of fresh blood, viscera
and internal wastes, brewing up a revolting odor.
Sebas went over the information he had obtained from Tsuare and the
assassin, then tried to figure out the building’s structure. Her memories were
spotty and she had not recalled anything important, but she had told Sebas that
the actual establishment was located underground. The assassin had not gone
underground himself, so his information would be no good after this.
He looked to the ground. However, the trapdoor leading underground was
cunningly concealed, and Sebas could not find it.
Still, if he could not find it, then all he had to do was ask someone who knew
where it was.
“Excuse me. I’d like to ask you a question…”
“Aiiiiieee!”
The man he addressed immediately responded with a hoarse scream. It would
seem that he had no intention of putting up a fight.
That relieved Sebas. Whenever he thought of Tsuare, he could not control his
fists, and he would slay his opposition in a single blow.
Since he had no intention to fight, breaking both his legs ought to be enough.
The terrified man backed away from Sebas, trembling against the wall as he
did. Sebas looked dispassionately on the man’s shameful display, and smiled
thinly with his mouth alone.
“Aiiiiiiieeeee!”

That frightened the man even more. The stench of ammonia filled the room.
It would seem he had scared the man too badly. Sebas wrinkled his brow.
The other man had collapsed to the ground. His eyes had rolled up in his skull
so all that could be seen were the whites. Apparently the extreme pressure had
been too much for him, and he had passed out. The other man looked on him in
envy.
“Ah… Like I was saying, I’d like to ask you a question. It’s like this — I would
like to go underground. Could you tell me how to get there?”
“…That, that’s…”
The man was too afraid to betray his organization. Sebas could see the fear in
his eyes. Much like those assassins, this man seemed to be afraid of reprisals
from his organization. Sebas recalled the man he had met that night and how he
had run away with Sebas’ money. The retribution in question was probably
synonymous with “death.”
The man was still hesitating over whether or not to speak when Sebas cut
through his reluctance with his next words.
“There are two people who can speak here. I don’t necessarily have to ask you,
you know?”
The man’s forehead broke out in oily sweat, and his back shuddered.
“Th-th-here! Over there! There’s a hidden door there!”
“Over there, hm.”
Sebas looked where the man had indicated. At a closer look, there was a tiny
crevice in the ground, separating part of the floor from the rest.
“I see. Thank you. Your usefulness to me is now at an end.”
Sebas smiled, and the man realized would happen to him after those words.
His face turned gray and he trembled uncontrollably. Still, he clung to a faint
hope and cried:
“Please, please don’t, don’t kill me!”
“No.”
Sebas’ prompt answer froze the room solid. The man’s eyes went wide, in the
way humans did when they were trying to reject a reality they did not want to
believe.
“But I told you, didn’t I? Please, I’ll do anything, just spare me!”
“Indeed you did. However…”
Sebas sighed deeply.
“I cannot.”

“Are… are you kidding me?”
“You can take it as a jest if you wish. However, the outcome will still be the
same, no?”
“…Oh… god…”
Sebas recalled the tragic state of Tsuare when he had rescued her, and he
narrowed his eyes.
What right did villains have to beg the gods for aid? More to the point, Sebas’
gods were the 41 Supreme Beings. The man’s plea was like an insult to them.
“You reap what you sow.”
Those words, as cold and hard as steel, slashed through all hope and made the
man painfully aware of his own demise.
Would he choose to fight, or would he choose flight? Given only an instant to
decide, the man chose immediately — he chose flight.
He would meet an unspeakable fate if he dared fight Sebas. That much went
without saying. In that case, he might as well flee. Doing so would grant him a
faint possibility of survival.
He was correct to think that way.
By doing so, he had prolonged his life by a few seconds… or rather, a few tenths
of a second.
The man ran towards the door. Sebas caught up with him in an instant, and
his body whirled. A swift wind blew across the man’s head, and his body
collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A ball hit the wall and slid to
the ground, trailing blood in its wake.
A moment later, the man’s headless body spewed a geyser of blood from its
neck, covering the ground in gore.
That technique was nigh-unto divine. Just the feat of decapitating someone
with a roundhouse kick would have required incredible strength and speed, but
the most impressive thing was that Sebas’ shoes had not been stained at all.
Sebas’ leather shoes padded across the ground to the other, unconscious man.
He raised his leg and stamped, hard. There was a sound like dry branches
breaking. The man twitched several times, and then his body went still.
“…When you look back on everything you have done so far, is this fate not to
be expected? Still, be at ease. Your bodies will be used to make some small
amends for your sins.”
Sebas reached for the corpses.
His plan was to mutilate the cadavers and arrange them on the steps as a

warning to frighten anyone who intended to flee via the stairs and leave them
unable to advance or retreat. Sebas did so since he could not wreck the exit.

After arranging the collected corpses, Sebas walked towards the hidden door
in the floor.

First, there was the sound of metal components breaking. Then, there was a
large hole in the ground. The smashed door slid down the stairs below with a
resonant crash.

“I see… if I destroy this staircase, they should not be able to escape through
here.

●

It was a small room.
The only furniture in this almost-empty room was a cabinet and a bed.
The mattress was not a simple mass of straw bedding, but an actual cotton-
stuffed mattress. It was well made, of the sort that noble homes might use.
However, this mattress was designed for functionality and so it looked plain,
without any decorating.
A naked man sat on the mattress.
He was well into his middle years, and gluttony had made his frame flabby.
His looks had originally been average at best, but putting on the pounds had
made him that much uglier. He looked like a pig from every angle.
Incidentally, pigs are intelligent and cute animals who love cleanliness. The
word “pig” in this case is a derogatory term used to describe stupid, boorish and
filthy people.
His name was Stefan Havish.

●

He raised his fist — and punched down onto the mattress.
The sound of flesh striking flesh rang forth.
A look of delight blossomed on Stefan’s face. The sensation of smashing flesh
traveled up his arm, and his body shivered even as goosebumps of pleasure
sprouted on him.
“Uhhh…”

He slowly raised his fist, whose knuckles were now stained with sticky gore.
Stefan was pressing down a naked woman.
Her face was swollen and bruised, and the skin was flecked with spots of
blood. Her nose was broken and the blood leaking from it had clotted on her
skin. Her lips and eyelids were similarly swollen, completely distorting her
originally beautiful face. There were bruises on the rest of her body, but the
damage was worst on her face. The sheets around them were stained with old,
dried blood.
She had been trying to protect her face with her hands until just now, but now
her arms lay limp on the bed. Her hair spread out messily on the mattress, like
it was floating in water.
“Oi, what’s with you? Tired already? Huh?!”
The woman seemed to be unconscious.
Stefan raised his fist and punched downwards.
With a thud, his fist connected with her cheekbone, and pain surged up
Stefan’s hand.
His face twisted.
“Cheh. That hurt, you bitch!”
He angrily punched her again.
The mattress creaked in time with the thud of flesh striking flesh. Her swollen
skin split, staining his knuckles with blood. Said blood splattered stickily onto
the mattress, dying it with carmine spots.
“…Uuuu…”
The woman no longer struggled despite the beating. There was no response
from her body.
Non-stop bludgeoning like this could end up killing someone. However, the
woman had survived, but not because Stefan had been merciful. The woman
clung to life because the mattress had dissipated the force of the blows. Had she
been beaten while lying on a harder bed, she might well be dead by now.
Stefan had been brutal, but not because he knew about that effect of the
mattress. Rather, it was because the woman’s death did not concern him. All that
was needed was to pay to dispose of the problem.
In truth, Stefan had beaten several women to death in this place.
However, he had to pay for the cleanup every time he killed someone, which
strained his wallet. Thus, he unconsciously went easy on them.
As he looked down at the woman’s unmoving face, Stefan licked his lips.

This brothel was perfect for satisfying unique sexual fetishes. Normal
bordellos would not permit their customers to do such things. Well, perhaps
they might, but Stefan did not know of any such places.

Life was good when slavery had been permitted.
Slaves were a form of property, and people who manhandled them had been
scorned. It was just like how others would roll their eyes at people who threw
their money around.
However, slaves had been the only way for someone like Stefan — with his
special sexual preferences — to satisfy his desires. Without them, Stefan had
been forced to slake his lust in this place. Who knew what would have happened
had he not known about this establishment?
There was no doubt that he would have committed a crime and gotten
arrested.
Stefan was practically tearing up in gratitude towards his noble master, who
had recommended this place to him. Naturally, it was so that he could use his
power for his master’s benefit.
“Thank you — my master.”
A look of calm came over Stefan’s eyes. It was hard to imagine that he could
be so grateful to his liege given his personality and his sexual proclivities.
However—
The embers of a flame blazed up in the depths of his belly — the flames of
wrath.
This emotion was directed at the woman who had deprived him of slaves with
which to satisfy his lusts.
“—That bitch!”
His face turned red with anger, and his eyes were bloodshot.
He imagined the face of the Royal whom he should have been serving — the
Princess — on the body of the woman beneath him. Stefan gathered the anger
within himself into his fist, and laid into the helpless woman.
Fresh blood flew with every blow he struck.
“If only, if only I could smash that face of hers! How good would that feel!”
He rained punch after punch into the woman’s face.
His fist struck her cheek, and a surprising quantity of blood spurted from
between the woman’s swollen lips. Perhaps she had cut the inside of her mouth
on her teeth.
The woman’s sole response to this beating was to tremble slightly.

“—Huu… huu…”
After a few more strikes, Stefan was panting as his shoulders rose and fell. His
body and forehead were slick with sweat.
Stefan looked at the woman he had pinned underneath him. Her condition
could only be described as “tragic,” and she was close to death at this point.
What lay there was a puppet whose strings had been cut.
Stefan swallowed audibly.
Nothing pleased him more than to rape a battered and bloody woman. The
prettier she had originally been, the better. There was no better way to satisfy
his sadistic desires than to destroy something beautiful.
“If only I could fuck that woman like this…”
Stefan thought of the haughty features which belonged to the young lady of
the house which he had just visited. She was as beautiful as the Princess, who
was herself known as the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom.
Of course, Stefan was very clear that he would not have the chance to abuse
such a high-class lady. The only people Stefan could indulge his fetishes with
were the dregs of humanity who had been dumped into this brothel, to be used
and then discarded.
Such a beautiful woman would surely be bought up by a wealthy and powerful
noble for a huge sum. She would then be spirited away to his domain and live in
seclusion, in order to keep her sale from becoming public knowledge.
“How I wish I could beat up a woman like that — beat her to death.”
How happy and satisfied would he be if he could do that?
Of course, that was nothing more than a madman’s ravings.
Stefan looked down at the woman crushed beneath him. Her bare bosom was
moving slightly. He smiled lewdly as he confirmed that fact.
Stefan reached down to grab the woman’s breasts, deforming the soft flesh
between his fingers.
The woman did not react at all. She was on the verge of death and could not
respond to such trivial pain. The woman Stefan was squeezing differed from a
doll only in the softness of her body.
However, Stefan was somewhat dissatisfied by her lack of resistance.
Save me!
Spare me!
I’m sorry!
Please, stop!