Deep within the grove lining the highway—an area typically teeming with monsters—nearly thirty warhorses and their riders lay in wait.
Ordinarily, cavalrymen avoided forests and groves. Given the speed at which horses moved, the dense trees were a dangerous hindrance. But the Bloody Blade mercenary band had disregarded such common sense, establishing their secret hideout right in the heart of the trees.
Of course, they had taken proper precautions against monsters before setting up camp. They utilized the effects of a magic item—stolen from a merchant during their previous days as common bandits—which repelled monsters below a certain level of strength. It was precisely because they possessed this magic item that they were able to continue their predations here on the frontier.
Still, the frontier was the frontier. Occasionally, monsters powerful enough to ignore the magic item would attack, and sometimes even weaklings like Goblins would wander in as if the barrier didn't exist. However, the Bloody Blade placed a heavy emphasis on cavalry mobility and was well-known as a veteran mercenary unit.
The result was that most attacking monsters were slaughtered; the meat of high-rank beasts went into the mercenaries' bellies, and their materials were sold to fund the band's activities. Even so, the mercenaries weren't unscathed. They had suffered a few deaths and a fair number of injuries.
Despite the risks, banditry on the frontier was proving far more lucrative than any honest soldiering.
"And yet... dammit."
Inside a tent that stood notably larger than the others, a man irritably tore off a piece of dried meat with his teeth.
Eberogi, the leader of the Bloody Blade, washed down the meat with a swig of alcohol as he recalled the scene from earlier. Just as they were closing the distance to ambush the merchant caravan as they always did, a single Gryphon had descended as if perfectly timing its arrival.
The moment he saw it, Eberogi had signaled a retreat.
That decision hadn't been based on a calm calculation of combat strength or potential losses—it had been born of pure, unadulterated terror.
During the war with the Bestia Empire in the spring, he had been heading toward the main camp of the King's Faction, who had hired them for a minor task. At that time, despite being miles from the actual battlefield, he had witnessed a massive flame tornado.
At first, he hadn't understood what he was looking at. Was it magic? It had seemed impossible that a flame tornado resembling a natural disaster could be produced by human hands. However, he later learned that the catastrophe had been the work of a single adventurer—and he had been terrified.
Yes, terrified. Even as the leader of the Bloody Blade, a man of reputed strength.
In the end, the war had concluded without the Bloody Blade ever seeing action, leaving them with a reward that amounted to little more than pocket change. Driven by a misplaced grudge and a desire to drown out his own fear, he had come to the frontier to prey on merchants, only for his nightmare to return.
"And yet, he shows up again."
The image of the Gryphon flashed through his mind. He didn't even have to think about who its owner was. It was the adventurer who had haunted his dreams and had come to be known as Crimson after the war.
As if to suppress his fear, he violently tore off another piece of dried meat.
"Leader, a message from Serabia-san has arrived."
At the sound of his subordinate's voice from outside the tent, he hurriedly washed down the meat in his mouth.
"And? What's the situation?"
His throat felt parched. He wanted water, not alcohol—enough to drench his soul.
"According to the color of the string: the prey is still there. No threat detected. Resume the attack. That is all."
"...Phew."
Eberogi let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. He had heard from other scouts that the Gryphon had moved away from the caravan, but he hadn't been able to feel truly at ease until it was confirmed that Crimson wasn't on the scene.
Still, he hesitated.
Crimson is rumored to practically make a hobby out of hunting bandits. Would a guy like that really just let us slip away? Well, sure, as long as we have our base in this grove, it would be hard for him to find us with that aerial scouting he likes so much. But wouldn't that just make him more likely to wait for us to come out?
Despite his terror, Eberogi had correctly read Rei's intentions. His inability to immediately call off the attack was the result of a tug-of-war between greed and fear.
Now that someone like Crimson has appeared, I shouldn't push my luck here. I'll make this job my last and get out of the frontier for good. But just to be safe...
He spent several minutes slowly finalizing his plans before speaking.
"Alright, we're hitting that caravan. The carriages are still disabled, right?"
"Based on what we saw from a distance, they're still doing repairs, so most likely."
"...Fine. You boys must be getting homesick for the city by now anyway. We'll pull back from this area once this job is done."
"Understood. To be honest, the women we snatched during the raids were reaching their limit anyway, so that helps."
Eberogi snorted, threw the rest of the dried meat into his mouth, and washed it down. Grabbing his favorite longsword, he stepped out of the tent and caught sight of a Goblin corpse in the corner of his eye.
Despite the magic item, an unusual number of them had been stumbling into the camp since yesterday. More accurately, they had been wandering in rather than attacking. Being a veteran unit, they weren't bothered by a few Goblins; instead, the creatures were used for target practice or killed for sport.
Are these Goblins some kind of omen? The magic item's effect has been feeling a bit spotty lately too. Either way, it's just another reason to get out of here.
This sharp intuition was part of what made him a leader. In truth, the Goblins fleeing into the grove were survivors from a village attacked by adventurers the day before, and a remnant hunt was scheduled to begin tomorrow.
Unfortunately for him, his intuition was destined to be clouded by an irregular variable like Rei.
"Leader, the carriages are stopped just ahead."
Eberogi nodded as they neared the edge of the grove. He watched the three carriages stopped by the side of the highway and halted the cavalry. Normally, they would have charged together, and his subordinates looked puzzled at the sudden stop.
"We'll start with a probe," Eberogi announced. "From you... to you. Head toward the caravan."
The ten riders he pointed out voiced their dissatisfaction immediately.
"Wait a second, Leader. Why only us?"
"Shut up! Are you questioning my orders?"
Whoosh! Eberogi swung his longsword with a menacing whistle. Judged it too dangerous to talk back, the designated men fell silent.
"Look, attacking first means your merit will be greater. When it's time to divide the loot, I'll let you have first pick. How's that? If you don't like it, I'll find someone else. There are plenty of others who'd want the priority."
The promise of the first pick instantly changed their tune.
"Fine, Leader. Just don't forget that promise, okay?"
"Yeah. I'll be watching from here. Now get to it."
"Leave it to us! You bastards, let's go!"
The man shouted as he rode out from the trees, and the other nine followed with a roar.
Now then, let's see how this goes. If my prediction is wrong, we get the loot. If I'm right, I'll be the first one to tuck tail and run.
Eberogi squinted against the bright sunlight as he watched his vanguard charge.
Rei, who had been closing his eyes and keeping a vigilant watch, listened to the merchants grumbling about how they should have just kept moving. Then, he heard it: the rhythmic thud of hoofbeats from ten riders approaching.
"They're here? No, but... the numbers are too low."
The group that had chased the caravan earlier had been thirty strong. Now, there were only ten.
"Did some of them jump the gun for the prey? If so, that's fine, but it'll be a pain if these are just pawns meant to test the waters."
Rei's use of the caravan as bait was predicated on their total safety. He couldn't afford to let even a small group reach them. And for Rei to protect them meant he had to reveal himself. The merchants were just that—merchants. They might have known a bit of self-defense, but they were useless against charging cavalry.
"Tch, their leader is actually thinking. Maximum results with minimum sacrifice... No, that's not right. Ten out of thirty is a significant reduction in their strength. I'll take it."
Muttering to himself, he headed for the carriage door. By then, the merchants had also noticed the approaching bandits. Someone began frantically banging on the door of Rei's carriage.
"Hey! They're here! Bandits! You're going to do something, right?!"
"I've got it. Just stay inside."
He stepped out of the carriage. The bandits were about fifty meters away.
"I guess I'll have to settle for this," Rei muttered, reaching into his Misty Ring.
He pulled out a spear—specifically, a spear with a broken tip, the kind he used for throwing. One of the merchants reflexively shouted in alarm.
"Are you serious?! You're going to fight with that?!"
Rei didn't even glance back. He drew his arm back and threw.
The spear vanished from his hand, traveling at a speed that seemed to pierce the very air. It struck the lead bandit's head and pulverized it instantly.
Brain matter, blood, flesh, and bone splattered across the highway. The man riding diagonally behind the leader suddenly wiped something sticky off his face, only to find a stray eyeball in his palm.
"Ugh... Waaaaaaaah!"
The man screamed, trying frantically to shake the eyeball loose. The surrounding bandits were left in a daze, staring at their headless leader's horse as it continued to gallop straight ahead.
In an instant, another boom shattered the silence. A second spear whistled through the air, piercing a bandit's torso and continuing through his leather armor to skewer the man behind him. The spear shattered upon impact with the second man, the fragments clattering onto the road.
The sound of the fragments hitting the ground finally broke the bandits' stupor. They fell into utter chaos. Their leader was dead, and two more had been taken down in a way that defied comprehension. If they had been killed in a normal fight, someone might have taken command, but this was a massacre.
Even as they struggled to process the horror, more spears flew from Rei's hand, crushing and skewering them one by one. One bandit tried to shout a warning, only for a spear to pulverize his head mid-sentence. His headless corpse tumbled from the saddle, and his horse bolted into the distance.
Finally realizing they were being slaughtered, the survivors tried to flee. But in that moment, something descended from the sky, cutting off their retreat.
"Guruuuuuuuuu!"
Seto used King's Intimidation. The horses froze, their legs turning to lead. The bandits were similarly paralyzed, unable to move a single muscle.
From behind them came the sound of steady footsteps. They didn't need to look back to know who it was. The monster who had been crushing them with spears was closing in.
Why had it turned out like this? They were only supposed to attack a helpless caravan.
As that thought flickered through a bandit's mind, he cast a desperate look back toward the grove—but not a single one of his allies remained.