"S-Stop! Please, stop!"
"Uwaaaah! What the hell is this thing?!"
The <Brutal Predator> sprouted a mass of tentacles, snatching up villagers one after another and tossing them into its gaping maw.
Once they were inside—crunch. It pulverized them with its powerful jaws.
"Puppeteer, I have some business to attend to. Go wild."
"You got it, Master!"
The villagers were so fixated on the <Brutal Predator> that they didn't spare me a single glance. I took the opportunity to slip away and find my marks. Since the Parasitic Sword Puppeteer had transformed into the <Brutal Predator>, I gripped the <Sword of Raging Flames> I'd just acquired instead.
There were people I needed to make thoroughly regret being born.
First, there was Dalga, the Village Chief’s son who had killed Namia. I was going to make sure he suffered the most.
Next was the Village Chief, Rizrutt—Dalga’s father and the primary culprit who pinned his son’s crime on me.
Then there were the four men who always trailed after Dalga. They were in Namia’s house that day. Despite being witnesses, they gave false testimony, claiming I was the culprit.
I was also pissed at the judge who sentenced me to exile, but I supposed he could wait. For now, I needed to catch those first few before they could run.
"Hey! A monster's appeared in the village!"
"What kind of monster?!"
"I've never seen anything like it!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"
"What are the adventurers doing? Kill it already!"
"Where's the Guild?! Get the adventurers together!"
The village was in total chaos. Everyone was running around frantically. Some tried to fight, some fled, others screamed for help. The "monster" they were panicking over was likely the <Brutal Predator>. It wasn't actually a monster, but looking at its form, I couldn't really blame them for the mistake.
Now then, where are they?
"Found you," I muttered as I spotted one of my marks.
"It’s been a while," I called out.
In reality, barely a week had passed since I was exiled to the Dungeon and returned here, but after hundreds of cycles of Return by Death, it felt like years since I’d last seen his face.
"W-Why... why are you here, Kiska...?"
He looked shaken to his core.
"I wonder why, Dalga."
"A-Anyway, I don't have time for you right now!"
"Because there's a monster in the village?"
"Yeah! Exactly! We're busy dealing with it! Get the hell out of the way!"
"Hey, Dalga. What would you think if I said I was the reason that monster is here?"
"Hah? What kind of nonsense—"
I didn't let him finish. I didn't have to.
"Dalga, you seem to be under a delusion, so let me clarify something: I can kill you whenever I feel like it."
As I spoke, I swung my blade. I drove the tip into Dalga’s left arm and ripped it open. Because the <Sword of Raging Flames> held a searing heat, the blade cauterized the wound as it cut, sealing the blood vessels instantly. It was a weapon designed for torture rather than a swift kill.
"Agaaaaaaaaaaaah!!"
Dalga collapsed, writhing in agony.
"You bastard, don't you dare mess with me!"
He still had some fight left in him, trying to use his <Intimidation> on me.
"Lord Dalga! What's happening?!"
"What's all the shouting about?!"
A group of men came running, drawn by the noise. Among them were the bastards who had broken into Namia’s house that day. They were all armed, likely intending to fight off the monster.
"Hey! Kill this silver-haired freak! Now!" Dalga screamed.
They gripped their weapons and charged. If this were the old me, I would’ve been beaten senseless. But now...
"Trash. Come and get it."
"Don't get cocky!"
I used [Provocation] to draw their swings, then danced through the gaps to counter.
"Agh?!"
The man I slashed crumpled. One by one, I tore through them.
"W-What is this?! How is he moving like that?!"
"We can't even touch him!"
"S-Stop! Please!"
"Aaargh!"
Compared to surviving that hellish Dungeon, these guys were nothing. I could’ve beaten them with my eyes closed.
"Dalga, I’ll say it again. Think about why I’m here."
I spoke while stepping on the chest of one of the fallen men. Every single one of them had been neutralized.
"Y-You don't mean... you actually survived that Dungeon...?"
He finally got it. A bit slow, but he got there.
"Hey, Dalga. Do you know what I was thinking about the whole time I was clearing that place?"
"W-What are you...?"
"I was thinking about how to get my revenge. I spent every waking second imagining the cruelest ways to kill you. Should I beat you to death? Decapitate you? Crucify you? Maybe waterboarding, or burning you at the stake? Flogging? Flaying the skin from your bones? Gouging your eyes out? Cutting off your fingers? Should I let you starve, or infect you with a rotting disease? Maybe I should crush you, bury you alive, draw and quarter you, poison you, lock you away in the dark, or just keep stabbing you? I thought about it over, and over, and over again."
I was breathless by the time I finished. Dalga’s face was pale, his features twisted with pure, unadulterated terror.
"Hey, Master. Can I eat these guys, too?"
When I looked over, Puppeteer had drifted near. It must have finished off the villagers nearby. It was looking at the men I’d just beaten.
"Eat anyone but him," I said, pointing at Dalga.
"You got it!"
Puppeteer answered cheerfully. Tentacles lashed out, dragging the men into its maw.
"Stop! Nooooo!"
"Uwaaaaah!"
"Please! Anything but this!"
"Let me go! Let me go!"
They struggled with everything they had, but it was useless. Their bones snapped and their bodies were pulverized by Puppeteer’s relentless jaws.
"Did you... did you bring this monster...?" Dalga asked, his voice trembling with despair.
"Yeah. I did."
The sharp, acrid scent of urine hit my nose. He’d wet himself.
"Don't worry. I'm not going to let you die as easily as them."
"H-Help me! I was wrong! I'm sorry! Look, I'm apologizing! Please, just let me live!"
Dalga threw himself into a desperate dogeza, babbling apologies. I felt a surge of genuine disappointment. He was pathetic. If you're going to be a villain, at least have the spine to act like one. Seeing him grovel made it feel like I was the one doing something wrong.
Disgusted, I looked down at him.
"You think that's enough for me to forgive you? You're going to die, Dalga. And it’s going to be the most agonizing death imaginable."