Chapter 3: The Silent Killer

It was about three in the afternoon. The sun blazed high overhead.

The gang of bandits, who had won an "overwhelming victory" at the cost of a dozen or so lives, were having a raucous party replete with low-quality alcohol.

A hulking man whose unkempt beard had grown almost to the point of covering his face downed the beer in his mug.

He slammed the mug onto the table and said drunkenly, "As I said, we should've struck directly and surrounded that old man. Less of us would've died! More dead means more loot for us, but... but... it's embarrassing how much it cost us!"

A thin, lanky man to his side slapped the back of his head.

"That's what you say now, Sean, but you were the first to flee when that old knight went on a rampage! Why didn't you attack him yourself? If nothing else, that guy’s sword might have gotten wedged in your useless muscles. We would’ve easily killed him and avenged you then, eh, Sean?"

"Bandits don't... don't flee... That’s just horrible, guys!"

The bearded and hulking Sean spoke in fits and starts as he tried to defend himself verbally. His face flushed, perhaps from drinking too much or out of anger and embarrassment. The bandits all around him tittered mockingly.

"I... won't be baited by the likes of you. I-I'm going to the latrine!"

Perhaps because he really did have to pee, Sean stumbled away as the bandits behind him laughed even more loudly.

The village used to have actual latrines in the past, but largely located near the farmlands, which none of the bandits had any intention of tilling. It was far more convenient to do one's business in a secluded location in the vicinity.

Sean scowled. Billy's taunts and jeers had annoyed him, but he wasn't good with words. How was he to respond? He couldn't help but think back to before he had become a bandit. He had been the most strapping lad in the village then, and the blacksmith's pretty daughter, Jeannie, had favored him.

With his overwhelming strength, he was easily able to corral herds of cows, lift heavy pieces of equipment, and even forge iron. Everyone in his generation had admired him.

Why had he become a bandit, anyway? Wouldn't it have been good to marry Jeannie and remain an honest, down-to-earth farmer? At the very least, he would have been able to eat his fill, afford warm clothes, and have a pretty wife.

Sean quickly dismissed these thoughts as he finished pissing.

Jeannie had long since... The feeling of killing others and plundering them was overwhelming in its intensity. Even he, who was cowardly compared to the rest of the gang of bandits, found it hard to suppress that rush of exhilaration, that thrill, of dominating those weaker than he was.

He licked his lips. His lips curled up in a perverse smile. They'd get to play with that old knight's squire the very next day.

It was rare that Beran gave them the opportunity to kill or torture their captives. He might have done so this time because he was so angry about how many of their number had died.

Upon thinking about the fun he would have tomorrow, he couldn't help but tremble all over. He was so excited he could barely contain himself.

Just then, a longsword pierced through his heart from the back with nothing more than a quiet snick.

Fresh blood gushed out of the wound where skin met cold steel. The pain came as a roaring flood. Sean opened his mouth and tried to scream, only to have an arrow pierce his throat. His scream became a hoarse gurgle.

Then, as he tried to draw on his last reserves of strength for a last-ditch struggle, an elbow struck his neck with enough force to crack bone. Sean's consciousness faded to black, submerging him in darkness then and ever after.

Avia shuddered at the sight of the prone body before him. His heart had been skewered and his neck pierced through; his head was lolling backward at an unnatural angle.

To have killed someone personally... Sheltered as he was, having grown up in a noble household, he could barely wrap his head around the idea of such casual death.

He wasn't a particularly valuable member of his household, and he knew that death was commonplace. Even so, witnessing a death in such close proximity... Moreover, knowing he had been responsible for the death of the man before him...

An overwhelming sensation of disgust clouded his mind.

The discomfort at what he had done, at seeing another human die, manifested instinctively in a bout of nausea and dizziness.

He attempted to retch but had hardly eaten anything over the last few days. His stomach clenched, but all he managed were a few wheezes and a cough.

"Calm down, Avia. Either they die, or we do. Your archery is impressive, and you're a huge help."

Wang Yu stood right by Avia's side. He clapped Avia's back twice. Though he hadn't been forceful, Avia stumbled and almost fell to the ground. Wang Yu couldn't help but sigh at Avia's frailty.

Even so, the physical trauma seemed to help Avia come to terms with what he had done. His nausea subsided.

"I'm alright, thank you. The idea of having killed someone is difficult to handle, but I'll get used to it, yes, I'm sure I will..."

Avia nodded his head at Wang Yu in thanks.

"Alright, then. Let's handle matters here. Make sure to hide the blood—we'll scrape the dirt away."

Wang Yu nodded approvingly at Avia's improving mental fortitude.

He quite liked Avia's mindset. Though Avia was discomfited by the idea of killing, he was actively learning to overcome that discomfort.

The two of them began to make preparations according to their plan.

As far as Wang Yu was able to figure out by careful observation, they were currently in a small village with a fence surrounding it.

Though the fence was shabby and likely wouldn't even block an ox, the watchtowers along the four corners of the square enclosure had no blind spots. Wang Yu wasn't confident that he could approach the fence without being seen.

The security within the enclosure was lax overall, and the bandits were hardly sticklers for order, but the critical watchtowers seemed to be well staffed and maintained.

Despite the shabby fence, the manned watchtowers were more than sufficient to make up for it. The bandits had prioritized the right things.

That said, the sentries only paid attention to those who drew near the fence. They didn't care about what happened within the village.

In other words, if he wanted to escape, he would have to focus his attention on the interior of the village. Trying to escape over the fence by force would immediately rouse Beran and the magician's attention. Such a plan would never succeed.

As a result, what Wang Yu had to do was kill Beran and the magician, then fight his way out from among the remaining bandits.

He was now carrying out the first phase of his plan.

He would attract the attention of the bandits, then spike their drinks.

"Isn't Sean back yet? What's going on? Is he constipated or something?"

Billy sneered. He continued to drink as he made fun of how slow Sean was.

Billy was short and thin, and he was very jealous of Sean's physique. He was more than happy to mock Sean when he had the opportunity to.

Suddenly, everyone heard the huge thump of some heavy object falling to the ground.

"Hm? What was that? Did Sean drink so much that he passed out? He couldn't even have drunk that much! Ridiculous."

Some of the bandits began to laugh at Sean immediately.

"Let's head over and have a look, at least. It'll be fun to see him make a fool of himself."

Billy was intending to take full advantage of this opportunity to deride Sean.

"Come on, then! Let's go have a look at that dumb brute." The other bandits were interested as well.

They laughed at Sean as they headed in the direction of the noise.

They found no one in sight, only the lingering aroma of good alcohol.

A huge hole in a wooden chest nearby revealed bottles of translucent amber liquid. The bandits eyed them appraisingly.

Several bottles within the chest had already cracked. Alcohol trickled onto the ground. The bandits began to sniff the concentrated aroma with great interest.

"This—Aren't these the bottles of Amber Tears from Beran's private collection? What are they doing here?!" one of the bandits exclaimed.

"Right, what are they doing here? Didn't Beran put them in the cellar?" another bandit murmured.

"He'll kill us if he learns of what's going on..." Another bandit was extremely fearful.

Within the crowd, Billy was initially astonished, then shocked. Beran's anger would be fearsome.

The next moment, however, his eyes lit up. He shouted, "It must be Sean! He must have wanted to drink his fill. That's why he stole this case of Beran's alcohol from the underground cellar! He probably stumbled, dropped the chest, and broke a couple bottles. He was scared, so he just grabbed a few and ran off. Beran's not going to let him off. Why don't we drink what's here, then blame everything on Sean?"

The bandits reacted quickly.

They were here in search of Sean, weren't they? It didn't matter whether what Billy had made up was the truth. Sean would be a perfect scapegoat.

For one, the bottles of alcohol had already cracked. Beran was going to get angry regardless. Why not have a few sips of the alcohol and enjoy themselves before that happened? They could all blame Sean later.

Then, once Beran tortured Sean to death and sated his anger, the rest of them would only be subject to a minor punishment or two.

"You're right. It’s all Sean’s fault!" The bandits quickly determined that Sean, recently deceased and stuffed into a crate for good, was the culprit. With growing anticipation, they grabbed the bottles of alcohol and began to guzzle them down.

"I wasn't sure if the ploy would work, but it really did. I knew that the bandits wouldn't be particularly cautious, but I didn't expect they would make up a whole story..."

Within some bushes in the distance, two pairs of eyes were carefully observing what was going on. Wang Yu shook his head in amazement.

"Things went much more smoothly than I expected. They're done for once they finish that alcohol..."

Wang Yu had heard about Beran's secret collection of alcohol in a cellar while he was pretending to be unconscious on the way to the bandits' lair.

That was how he had come up with his plan.

The next hurdle was trying to figure out how to get these bandits, who had no sense of caution but were extremely fearful of their boss, to drink the alcohol. He shared his thoughts with Avia, whose resulting suggestion had played out perfectly.

"You've been a great help." Wang Yu patted Avia on the shoulder, then gave him a thumbs up.

"We're working together, after all," Avia replied, somewhat embarrassed.

"Haha, I'm terrible at coming up with plans on the fly. I'll be counting on you for our next steps, too."

Wang Yu wasn't great at taking stock, especially under time-sensitive conditions.

"Leave it to me." Avia seemed far more confident to Wang Yu than before.

"But Wang Yu, are you certain that the drug you used will be effective?"

"Those herbs, you mean? I'm confident. They were grown from soil infused with the powder left behind by malevolent specters after their death. They aren’t exactly magical, but they're close to it. It took me a lot of effort to even get a small bottle of those herbs, and I ground them into powder.

"A scoop of powder the size of your fingernail is enough to conjure an illusion for the feeble-minded. Of course, nothing happened to me even after I consumed a whole bottle, but I confirmed everything with an information peddler," Wang Yu replied.

Avia relaxed as he nodded. Upon hearing about Wang Yu's plan, he had realized how unreliable Wang Yu was.

Even excluding the obvious pitfalls, when Wang Yu handed him a small notebook he had hidden on his body, with notes and illustrations of various herbs and strange ores, Avia felt tempted to claw his hair out.

The "sketches" that Wang Yu had made might as well have been abstract art. Only the artist alone would have been able to make out the species of interest. Wang Yu frankly admitted to mediocre drawing skills. Even so, he had tried his best to incorporate the key features that differentiated one plant from another.

Avia found that, at the start, Wang Yu's notes and observations were clearly a mess. A few dozen pages later, however, things had improved significantly. The key features that Wang Yu pointed out were actually recognizable by then.

Avia couldn't help but be impressed by Wang Yu's seriousness and dedication. His improvement throughout his notebook was evident.

Of course, what was even more surprising was Wang Yu's insane willpower. Avia had been shocked by Wang Yu's wounds when the latter had rescued him within the woodshed that served as a prison.

The fact that he was still able to move could be explained by an excellent constitution, but the pain he would have faced... Upon thinking about that pain, Avia couldn't help but shudder. And was that casual statement about consuming a whole bottle of that herb real?

While they were conversing with each other, the drunken bandits began to exhibit the symptoms Wang Yu had promised.

One drunken bandit's eyes suddenly widened in fear. He sounded as if he were about to shout something, but nothing came out of his mouth.

He clutched his neck with both hands as he began to vomit. His eyes were bulging and bloodshot to such an extent that they seemed as if they would explode at any moment.

As time progressed, his symptoms grew more and more severe. The skin on his face began to take on a dark green tinge.

His frightening expression was gradually transforming into a sinister smile as well.

His eyes were a mask of fright, but his lips were curled up in a casual smile. Avia couldn't help but grow frightened himself.

He turned and glanced at Wang Yu off to his side, but Wang Yu already had a sword and shield in hand. He was preparing to charge forward and kill his enemies.

Upon noticing Avia's gaze, Wang Yu nodded, then went back to preparing himself.

Infected by Wang Yu's behavior, Avia calmed down as well. He swallowed a gulp of saliva, picked up his crossbow, and prepared to charge forward.

As the medicinal herb took effect, the bandits began acting more and more strangely.

The majority of them were grabbing their throats. Their grayish-green complexion turned purple as they asphyxiated. Veins bulged from their arms, a clear sign of the force they were applying on themselves.

Just as they were about to choke to death, the sinister expressions on their faces faded away, replaced with ones of extreme ferocity.

They looked as if they were trying to fight for their lives, as if they were trying to resist something deep within their bodies.

They tried to scream, to make noise, to howl—but they couldn't. Specters screamed shrilly, and this herb, grown from what remained of their powdery essence, was anathema to what they represented. Those afflicted by the herb wouldn't be able to make any noise whatsoever.

The spectral powder infused within this herb would let the pitiful bandits experience what they feared most in the world, something so fearful they would rather kill themselves than face it.

The stronger one's willpower, the less they would be affected by such an herb. Unfortunately for these bandits, there were hardly any strong-willed ones among them. And given their drunken state, their willpower was all but at rock bottom.

They choked themselves to death soundlessly in a state of intense, extreme fear—a fitting end to such people, in truth.

Several of the bandits' expressions grew even fiercer. The illusory existences that seemed to be fighting them for control of their own bodies magnified their despair and eroded their mental fortitude.

Even so, their will to live allowed them to wrest back a bit of control over their own bodies.

One of the bandits was about to scream in shock; however, the moment he spat out a single syllable, a longsword beheaded him. Blood sprayed high into the air.

Another unlucky fellow, having witnessed this sight, tried to scream in abject fear.

Yet before he could make a sound, a crossbow bolt had pierced his brain through his eye. He tipped over and fell dead to the ground.

Wang Yu coldly beheaded one bandit after another the moment they looked as though they were about to scream, a silent hunter hunting down silenced prey.