“I’m going too!”
Just as I was about to head out to subjugate the bandits, Granny (Samantha) suddenly appeared from nowhere, shouting that.
Honestly, I was genuinely surprised. Wasn’t she supposed to be at the inn? I really don’t understand how she can slip past my and Aria’s detection…
Well, it feels like it’s pointless to worry about it, so let’s leave that aside for now. I should at least set some expectations.
“It’s not going to be fun, you know?”
It’s not like there’s anyone among the bandits worth killing for fun.
When I told her that out of kindness, Granny furrowed her deeply wrinkled brow even further and glared at me.
“White brat… What do you think I came all this way for?”
“Mead?”
“That’s not it!!”
When Aria and I said it in unison, Granny denied it for some reason, even though she was the one who said it first.
“But…”
“Right?”
“Good grief, you little brats are noisy! I already drank the mead!!”
So, she did drink it after all.
“Listen well, you little brats! The reason I’m accompanying you is because of your body, white brat…!!”
“Oh…”
I completely forgot… she’s so senile.
Ever since I was a child, the All-Attribute Magic Stone had been compressing my heart, so I wasn’t supposed to live to adulthood. To make the most of my short life, I wished to the Spirit of the Dungeon for a Divine Protection (Gift) that would allow me to “borrow in advance the high-level magic I should have been able to use by the time I became an adult.”
Because of that, my lifespan was further reduced, and even if I had won against Aria in that battle, I would have died on top of her corpse.
That was my desire. That was my only hope.
But… Aria crushed my fleeting dream and forced me to live.
For Aria’s sake, I decided to use this life for her.
But Aria is greedy and wanted me to live even longer.
Really… what a spiteful girl.
“…So, what are you going to do?”
To be honest, I wasn’t really taking it seriously. Even if she weren’t old and senile, I knew there was a limit to what a human magician could do.
My wonderful father, who is now living in hell with my brothers, aimed so high that he even experimented on his daughter’s body with the research results of many generations, but in the end, he gave up on reaching that point in his own lifetime.
I was diligent, but not a genius, so I didn’t wish to live.
But… if it’s this “genius.”
“Leave it to me. I’ll mess around with you little brats’ bodies and make you the strongest. Heh heh heh.”
…Is this going to be okay?
“Little brat, my mead is gone! Where did you put it!?”
“Yes, yes, let’s drink it at the inn when we’re done.”
As if imitating Granny’s granddaughter, Aria handles Granny in a familiar manner.
I really wonder if this is going to be okay…
Most of the bandits weren’t criminals from the start.
Most of them were originally just villagers.
Even in the Kingdom of Claydale, where the climate is mild and easy to live in, if the population grows too much, they seek new land and develop areas inhabited by monsters, expanding the places where people live.
For that place to become farmland and a farming village that can pay taxes, they must patiently cultivate while repelling monsters and wild animals.
Adults must balance cultivation and farming while repelling external enemies, and in many villages, the hands of young children were also needed as workers.
The more children, the more workers. However, even if the children grew up, there was not enough farmland to match, and the second and third sons of farmers who gave up on further cultivation often went to work in larger villages and towns.
However, for those who had only been taught farming and had not received much education, leaving the village alone required “courage.”
If they had courage… or at least a strong curiosity, they should have been able to earn a daily wage as laborers or adventurers in the town. But those who didn’t have the courage to step into a new path continued to escape to the easier option and learned to take from others.
The bandits who appeared in that viscount’s territory were a little different from the bandits who lacked courage and only ambushed carriages.
Those bandits had “intelligence.” They changed their attack locations to avoid being found by guards and soldiers, divided their numbers into groups of several people with leaders, and had those small groups managed by someone higher up to ensure orders were followed.
That’s something bandits who only know farming villages can’t do.
It was done by a man who was “formerly a villager.”
The man had ambition and dreams. He wanted to go to the city, become a successful adventurer, and eventually be called a hero.
He made friends, gathered the minimum amount of weapons with his daily wages, was thanked for defeating vermin and goblins attacking the village, felt the world expand as he learned to read, and challenged the dungeon… and failed.
The man could only reach Rank 2. Just a warrior. He wore ill-fitting used leather armor, and the weapon he wielded was just the cheapest club.
One of his companions became Rank 3 and joined other adventurers to challenge the dungeon, another gave up on being an adventurer and studied reading and arithmetic to be hired by a store, and another learned farming skills and returned to the village.
The man couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t return to the village after making such a big show of himself, and he was just struggling in poverty without any special skills.
At that time, a former companion, still worried about him, came to see him. He told him to try again. But the man, seeing the successful appearance of his former companion who had succeeded in living properly… stole his wallet and ran away.
The man became a “thief.”
The man who became a thief was behind this bandit incident.
From the beginning, the Thieves’ Guild had its eye on the Dandole family’s new industry, but because the Dandole family was keeping a close watch, it was difficult to intervene in the industry and gain rights.
However, the man, having heard about it, didn’t even consider the rights that required “knowledge” and “connections,” and only thought about taking them directly.
What the former villager man came up with was using bandits.
The Thieves’ Guild, which understood that they were doing evil but didn’t kill, and the bandits, who feared that their evil deeds would be discovered and killed, were incompatible. To thieves, bandits were like animals that didn’t think, and they especially hated being equated with them.
But the man didn’t avoid that from the perspective of a former villager, and he tried to profit by “using others,” which he had learned in the two guilds, by gathering young men who were lingering in the villages.
“You guys, today it’s the ‘Valley’! Hurry up!”
The man gives instructions to the bandits. He had prepared several hideouts, and by resting in places far from the attack locations, he had continued to evade the eyes of the guards.
He funneled the stolen goods through the Thieves’ Guild’s back channels, and based on the information he bought from the guild, he attacked merchants who came to buy goods. The guards would never reach the man if he disguised himself as a merchant and bought the supplies needed to maintain the bandits in nearby villages and towns.
The man’s experience of being constantly used from above as an adventurer and thief was useful.
The problem wasn’t the lord’s guards and soldiers, but the fact that high-ranking scouts were tracking them in small numbers, but high-ranking adventurers of Rank 4 or 5 wouldn’t come out for a mere bandit incident.
But… the man who ran away from being an adventurer didn’t know that there were famous adventurers who would do something that wasn’t “profitable.”
“…Hmm?”
In the forest, which was dark even during the day… one of the bandits, who was moving while erasing traces in small groups, suddenly fell.
Because he fell without making a sound, his companions in the squad became suspicious and approached him, when suddenly dust rose and a “white shadow” danced.
“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Only then was a scream heard, and in an instant, several bandits were splattered with blood.
“What’s happening…”
The man couldn’t understand the scene before his eyes.
From behind the man, who could only stare blankly at the sight of his underlings dying without being able to do anything, suddenly heard a “woman’s” voice.
“It’s a good day to die, don’t you think?”
When he turned around, a “white girl” was smiling gently at the man with her hands covered in blood.
Samantha: “Little brat! It’s a Yokai! There’s a Snow Woman!”
Aria: “…………”
Next time, Samantha’s teachings.