Hector wasn't rotten to the core. Evan was fundamentally a good person, so I thought he'd step in to help. To my surprise, Charon followed without hesitation.
When I asked why, he replied, "It's a chance to settle the debt."
"If you go there and try to make a deal using points, I will beat you up again," I threatened.
Charon fell silent.
We moved cautiously toward the source of the screams. Along the way, we came across something unsettling for the mind: the body of a fallen hero disciple.
Hector examined the already cold corpse, briefly checked the face, and spoke in a low voice. "This is Nashile, the eldest son of the Palom family."
Evan added quietly, "He once mentioned that his younger sister is pretty. He got really serious when I joked about asking him to introduce me to her."
The atmosphere grew heavy.
Charon, however, seemed unaffected.
"You seem fine," he remarked, stealing the words I was about to say.
"I'm just not showing it," I replied.
It was true. Inside, I was bubbling with anger, like molten lava. The Badniker name, once a title I had yearned for, now filled me with nothing but disgust.
I didn't know which family had the right to kill these people. It didn't matter how hard, painful, dirty, or messed up life was. If you were alive, a good day would come.
I was certain many others who had joined the infamous Badnikers' training camp shared this mindset. They had come hoping to make something of themselves and turn their lives around.
I pulled out the map, estimated our current location, and made a check mark.
Charon questioned my actions. "What are you doing?"
"Marking the spot."
"Why?"
"So I can come back and bury him later," I replied.
I couldn't afford that right now. The best I could do was place him on a tree so demons or beasts wouldn't ravage his body.
Charon sneered. "You're doing something meaningless."
"Why is it meaningless?"
"He's already dead," he replied. "He won't feel anything if you retrieve the body and bury it in good soil."
A funeral was for the living. Charon and I shared that understanding, but his thinking seemed to stop there.
"True, the dead feel nothing," I said. "But think about the bereaved families who'll see this later. How would parents feel seeing their child's corpse mutilated by wild beasts?"
This was also something I'd learned as a mercenary. In a profession rife with death, I'd often met the friends, family, and lovers of the deceased. Seeing a mutilated corpse always devastated them. It often left even me shaken.
A corpse could reveal many things, like how they died or how they felt in their final moments. Personally, I found such truths unnecessary.
Charon paused before snorting. He tried to act indifferent, but I could tell he was embarrassed. It was like watching a child scolded for something they hadn't anticipated.
Strange guy, I mused.
I couldn't fathom what kind of upbringing had twisted him into the person he was. Hyde Woodjack, the strongest ranger in the empire, had a reputation so great that even I had heard of him. His name was known throughout the empire, yet something felt off when considering Charon's behavior.
In any case, there weren't just one or two corpses. As I had mentioned earlier, each new body we discovered revealed a little more about what we were up against.
"They were terrified," I observed.
"Yes. It's like Pam," Evan replied, his voice stiff.
"This isn't the work of a Beast. If that demon had killed them, there'd be nothing left of the bodies," Hector pointed out.
"So this is the Banshee you mentioned, Brother Hector?"
"Who knows..." Hector answered, his tone vague.
We pressed on, and before long, we found the surviving hero disciples.
There were seven in total, and their situation was dire. At first glance, they were being cornered by a dozen demons. Among the attackers, one stood out—a figure unlike any demon I had seen before.
"What the hell is that?" Evan murmured.
It wasn't a Beast or a Banshee.
Once again, Hector answered, "It's a Grim Reaper."
"A Grim Reaper?" Evan echoed.
The demon wore a flowing robe like seaweed, exuded an ominous aura, and wielded an abnormally large scythe. The name fit its appearance perfectly.
"It's a demon that feeds on fear," Hector explained. "They say it harvests souls with that scythe."
"It looks like a major threat. I thought only low-grade demons were summoned in rituals."
"This one isn't very high-grade either. It's just the commander that gives orders to the Beasts and Banshees." Hector paused, his tone grim. "If we're going to fight it, we'll have to risk our lives."
I'd suspected as much. Even from a distance, the sight of it sent a chill down my spine.
At that moment, I spotted a flash of white hair among the seven living hero disciples.
Evan glanced at me, uncertain. "Are we going to save them?"
I nodded. "We'll save them."
Evan laughed, while Hector let out a resigned sigh.
"It can't be helped," Hector remarked. "We can't just stand by and watch hero disciples die in the Badnikers' land."
"So, it's settled," I said, turning to Charon. "What about you?"
"You're going to force me anyway, aren't you? "Charon replied sulkily.
"I won't force you into a life-or-death situation."
Charon snorted. "If they are still alive, I'll save them."
I chuckled as I hadn't expected such noble words to come from this twisted fellow.
"Then it's unanimous? I think we're a better group than we thought," Evan joked, trying to lighten the mood. "Who should be the leader?"
"Let's see... the one who kills that demon?"
I said that jokingly, but Hector and Charon's eyes lit up. Evan's did too.
At this age, boys and girls are simple.
That's what I thought—until I noticed Evan, Charon, and Hector's hands trembling slightly. It was natural to be scared. No matter how much practical experience they had or how gifted they were from an early age, facing a cursed being like a demon head-on was terrifying and nerve-wracking.
So what about a hero who confronted that fear directly? A little unhinged, perhaps?
I laughed and complimented them, "A bunch of crazy bastards..."
Unfortunately, there was no response.
***
The Grim Reaper wasn't the only demon causing trouble; a dozen Beasts surrounded it. Curiously, not all of these ferocious demons were focused on cornering the hero disciples. In fact, with so many demons present, it would have been no surprise if the seven hero disciples had already perished.
I quickly surveyed the scene and found the answer—it was an order from their commander, the Grim Reaper.
Is it feeding on their fear? I speculated.
The world offered so many delicacies, yet I hadn't expected a demon to consume something so abstract. Still, this worked in the hero disciples' favor. If not for the Grim Reaper's desire to harvest fear, they would have died long ago.
We quickly devised a simple plan. We would ambush as many demons as possible before engaging in open combat.
Now, we were moving into position, with a signal prepared to initiate the attack.
Only three demons were actively cornering the hero disciples, occasionally switching places as if growing tired. We aimed to strike during one of these transitions.
Perched on a tree branch, I looked down and thought, It would be ideal if we could eliminate one each in the surprise attack.
The ambush's purpose was to thin the enemy numbers before the full-scale battle. We needed to reduce their ranks by at least four to gain an advantage.
I was confident I could take down two, and we'd be in a better position if the others managed two more.
Then, something unexpected happened. Evan, who was hidden across from me, started signaling with his hands.
What is he trying to say?
Just as I was puzzling over it, Evan suddenly fell from the tree.
Did he lose his footing? Now, of all times?
I didn't understand what was happening, but it meant our plans had to change. I leaped down from the tree, with Hector and Charon close behind.
Since the attack was rushed, I only managed to kill one demon with Falling Fire. The others only seriously wounded a demon.
This is bad.
The battlefield's difficulty had tripled compared to our initial expectations.
Complaining wasn't an option, though.
I dodged the demons' attacks around me. Their size made it easy to avoid their strikes, but their numbers made it difficult to deliver the final blow.
Still, not too bad.
I realized why they traveled through the forest in groups of two or three. In a chaotic melee of fifteen massive monsters, their vulnerability became glaringly obvious.
The fight will drag on at this rate, but we can win with minimal losses.
The moment I entertained that hopeful thought, a bizarre sound echoed from the rear. It was the Grim Reaper. Then, the Beasts' erratic movements suddenly became orderly.
Is this how it works?
This wasn't mere command—it felt like manipulation. The Beasts seemed stripped of any autonomous will, moving like golems under precise control.
In such a battlefield, simplicity was an advantage.
Shit.
In an instant, the tide of the battle turned. To make matters worse, the Grim Reaper hadn't even joined the fray yet.
At times like this, the First Fire Technique's slow-starting nature was painfully inconvenient.
Meanwhile, the others were holding their own surprisingly well. Hector and Evan, in particular, were protecting the wounded hero disciples.
I also discovered why Evan had rushed in first. Among the injured was a familiar face—Charis, Evan's best friend. Charis had a deep gash across his chest and was coughing up blood.
While Evan's reaction wasn't surprising, it was hardly a wise move.
A sudden, icy wind swept across the battlefield as I was weighing our options in the dire situation. This was no ordinary winter breeze. I knew it was magic or a blessing the moment it touched my skin.
Seren? The wind has to be her doing, I speculated.
Seren had one arm outstretched, and the Beasts caught in the wind were torn apart like rotten meat. But it didn't stop there. The wind surged forward, targeting the Grim Reaper at the rear.
Sensing the sharp gusts approaching, the Grim Reaper unleashed a storm of black air currents in defense. Yet, they dissipated within seconds, unable to withstand the onslaught.
Just like that, it was over.
"What just happened?" Hector muttered in disbelief.
The Grim Reaper and more than a dozen Beasts had been wiped out instantaneously. Then, the protagonist, who had just displayed her extraordinary blessing, collapsed to the ground.
"What do we do?" Hector murmured.
"Let's check on her first," I answered immediately.