Chapter Title: Mountain Folk Village
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"Don't be surprised. I am a Divine Weapon. I possess more than enough power to return to my owner."
Thus, the owner of a Divine Weapon has no reason to lose it.
Karyl exploded at Angelica, who spoke so casually.
"You damn liar! I'm not a Resonator! You said you don't lend your power to the unqualified!"
"Yes, and thanks to you, I've violated the rules again. So, please resolve my doubts."
"I refuse!"
Karyl tossed the holy sword away once more.
This time, he buried it deep in the ground and even rolled a massive boulder on top to secure it firmly.
Yet when he opened his eyes the next morning, the holy sword had naturally returned to his waist.
"It's pointless. Don't waste your energy."
"This is insane!"
Furious, Karyl hurled it off a cliff and even tried smashing it against a rock.
But every time he discarded it, the holy sword came back, and what shattered was the rock, not the sword.
With neither approach working, Karyl finally had to ask.
"You said I don't qualify as a Resonator, so why are you sticking to me? Did All God tell you to? To make a heretic who spat on him shit his pants in fear?"
"Of course not. I'm simply intrigued by you. Why does my trace linger in your soul?"
"That's..."
Karyl hesitated for a moment.
It wasn't exactly a secret worth hiding, but he didn't want to reveal it so easily.
Still, to shake off this damned stalker(?), he decided to spill the truth.
Ten years from now, in the future.
From the Divine Weapons War that erupted to claim dominance over the western Bellarion Continent, to the moment he was impaled by the holy sword wielded by Mercenary King Hakan Leviathan.
"...To think such a thing happened! Traveling back through time and space via the explosion from the Heavenly Bow's destruction—astonishing."
"Getting caught in a Divine Weapon's explosion sends you to the past?"
"Not at all. If merely being caught in the blast sent everyone back, then all those present would have returned."
"Fair point."
Karyl nodded and asked,
"Then why did I return to the past?"
"...Perhaps when you died, I shattered as well."
She explained that when a Divine Weapon perishes, it unleashes an immense surge of energy.
If two exploded simultaneously, causing the energy to go berserk, it could even twist time and space.
"It's just a theory, but it's possible. Moreover, you were impaled on me when the explosion engulfed you."
"It happened in an instant flash and shockwave—I didn't have time to think."
Amid pain that felt like it was incinerating even his soul, he was too busy pleading to Theos to notice if the holy sword had broken or not.
"Anyway, my curiosity is sated, so let's part ways now."
"Very well. I must find a new Resonator anyway."
"Just don't choose Hakan."
"Noted. Though I am curious why I selected such a man in the world you experienced."
"Please, don't even be curious."
Karyl resolved to leave the holy sword at a suitable spot before arriving in the Valua Kingdom.
'In the end, I can't discard it? Damn it, what the hell is 'qualification' anyway?'
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The next day,
While crossing the mountains, Karyl spotted a small village surrounded by a wooden palisade around noon.
"A mountain folk village?"
Mountain folk lived isolated in the hills or forests, largely ignorant of the outside world.
So they wouldn't peg him as a mercenary from the Valua Kingdom side just by looking.
Grrrrowl.
His stomach happened to be growling fiercely, so Karyl headed to the village with some silver coins from his emergency funds to buy food.
Two men guarding the entrance with spears eyed him warily.
"Who goes there? Where you from?"
"A mercenary. Got separated from my monster extermination squad and lost my way."
Yet the men's wariness didn't fade easily.
Villagers had gathered, watching him with uneasy gazes.
"What's going on?"
"Bandits showed up. They hit a nearby village not long ago."
One of the men, a middle-aged one, answered Karyl's question.
'Ah, so that's it...'
They must suspect he was in league with the bandits.
It was common for bandits to send scouts to probe mountain folk villages before raiding.
To reassure them, Karyl showed his mercenary tag issued by the guild and some silver coins.
"I get what you're worried about. But I'm no bandit. I'll buy some food and leave right away. No need to even enter the village."
"Hmm, it's a real mercenary tag. Properly stamped and everything."
The middle-aged man, a former mercenary himself, recognized the authenticity.
Above all, the silver coins greatly eased his suspicions.
"Wait here. We'll bring rye bread and dried meat."
"Thanks."
Karyl sat on a tree stump by the entrance, waiting for the man.
The villagers dispersed, leaving only the children who approached him.
"Mister, are you an adventurer?"
"Something like that—a job where I swing a sword."
Adventurer.
Or as they were known, treasure hunter.
Mercenaries occasionally got roped into dungeon delves.
But Karyl avoided such commissions; the labyrinths full of traps were too risky for the pay.
"Have you been in a labyrinth or dungeon?"
"Yeah, ran into a minotaur and nearly shit myself."
"What's a minotaur?"
"A huge monster that looks like a bull but walks on two legs. Doesn't eat fodder—eats people."
Karyl drew pictures of dungeon monsters in the dirt with a stick.
The kids' eyes sparkled as they listened to his tales.
One pointed at Karyl's sword.
"Why's your sword wrapped up tight in cloth?"
"Oh, this? It's a cursed magic sword. Touch it carelessly and you're in deep shit. It'll suck out your life force and turn you into a withered mummy in seconds."
"Eek!"
When Karyl teasingly offered the holy sword, the kids jumped back in fright.
Children were pure and curious by nature.
Karyl liked that about them.
He'd play along or prank them on purpose.
Of course, he'd give a sound thrashing to the rude ones who threw stones at mercenaries.
One of the giggling kids asked,
"Mister, can you take Marin's request?"
"Who's Marin?"
The kids pointed to a girl hugging a patched-up bear doll.
A cute freckle-faced girl spoke up.
"Last year, my brother left to become a mercenary. If you see him, tell him Marin misses him and to come home soon."
She seemed like a typical restless youth fed up with mountain folk life who ran off and hadn't returned.
"What's your brother's name?"
"Jimmy. Oh, right—I need to pay the request fee?"
Marin rummaged in her pocket and pulled out three rusty coppers.
Coins like these couldn't buy half a cookie, let alone find a person.
Suppressing a sigh, Karyl returned two to her.
"Too much. One's enough."
"Phew, I was worried it'd be short."
Seeing her relief reminded Karyl of his own childhood.
He must have been around Marin's age.
He'd once begged a neighbor from the village heading out on mercenary work to check on his father, who hadn't returned for months.
'Got shot down flat. Yelled at me not to be a bother.'
Soon, the middle-aged man returned with a sack of bread chunks and dried venison.
"Two silvers."
Karyl handed over two silver coins and wolfed down the bread right there.
Perhaps too hastily in his hunger.
Suddenly, his throat clogged.
"Gack! Gack!"
"Mister, water here."
Karyl gulped from the gourd Marin offered and patted her head.
"Thanks. Jimmy, right? I'll tell him to come home if I see him."
"Hee hee hee. Thank you!"
With his hunger sated, Karyl stood and bid farewell.
"Take care."
"You too, mister—be safe!"
Karyl waved as he left the village behind.
Clutching the coin Marin gave him, a bitter expression crossed his face.
'Won't find him. No clue where he even is...'
There were plenty of mercenaries from mountain folk backgrounds.
For rural youths with no prospects beyond farming, herb gathering, or hunting, wandering as a mercenary earning coin was the dream.
Karyl's home village was the same.
But reality was cruel.
Untrained mercenaries died on their first job all too often.
By now, Jimmy was likely a lonely ghost on some field or a monster's meal.
'Of course, I can't say that or coldly refuse the request.'
One sound Karyl hated most was children's crying.
Regrettably, battlefields were full of it.
It always left him with bitterness and helplessness, sighing deeply.
Rumble rumble rumble.
'Hm? Vibrations from the ground?'
About thirty minutes later,
Feeling sudden tremors, Karyl hid in the underbrush.
Soon, a line of mounted men raced down the forest path.
'Bandits.'
Their garb and arms screamed thief.
Some wore red coats of imperial deserters.
'Around a hundred... Some had bows and guns. Good thing I didn't run into them.'
But their direction bothered him. That way lay the mountain folk village.
'...Ninety percent chance they'll raid it.'
In the worst case, the village would be wiped out. At best, they'd loot everything, enslave the women.
Thinking of those kids he'd just laughed with facing tragedy soured his mood.
'But I'm no hero. Not a Cavalier, not even an Aura-using knight.'
Combining his pre-regression life, Karyl was a 16-year veteran mercenary.
His experience shone in the fortress battle.
But now, no walls shielded from gunfire, no sturdy comrades at his side.
'Taking on a hundred alone is suicide.'
Halfway through, arrows and bullets would honeycomb him.
But...
"My father said it: if you see your client's peril and walk away, you're no mercenary."
Unwrapping the cloth, Karyl drew the holy sword and dashed back to the village.
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"Kyahahaha! Kill the men and old folks—haul the women!"
"Grab anything of value!"
"R-run away!"
"Kyaaah! Spare me!"
By the time Karyl arrived, the bandits were already looting the village.
The palisade lay in splinters, defenders long dead or fled.
Screams and flames rose everywhere as blood-mad bandits chased fleeing villagers.
'Village has about thirty households. Thirty bandits up front, twenty blocking the rear, rest looting.'
From the hilltop, Karyl instantly grasped the layout and situation.
He pictured how to fight in his mind.
Without Aura Expert status, facing numbers alone was madness.
But was there no way at all?
No, there was.
'Pick them off one by one.'
Reduce their numbers by killing the scattered looters.
Slipping into the village stealthily, Karyl took out the first bandit he spotted.
Slash!
"Gurk!"
In a flash, he clamped the bandit's mouth and slit his throat.
He tossed the body into a nearby house to avoid detection.
Bad luck—an ongoing rape was in progress inside.
"You fuck, I said wait your turn... What?!"
The one Karyl killed must've been waiting his turn.
The bandit gaped at his comrade's corpse.
No time to arm himself—the holy sword pierced his heart.
Karyl urgently told the half-naked woman cowering.
"Lock the door tight and stay hidden."
"Y-yes!"
Glancing outside, Karyl rushed to the next house.
No homeowner—three bandits ransacking for valuables.
Stab! Slash! Thud!
He lunged, stabbing one's throat, slashing the left one's chest as he startled, then stabbed the right one's heart as he fumbled for his axe.
The bandits crumpled without a scream.
'Going smoothly. Hope it stays this way.'
Karyl moved so swiftly and silently the bandits hadn't noticed yet.
After clearing several houses and rescuing villagers, he found kids hiding and crying in a storehouse.
"Eek!"
"Don't panic. It's me. Me."
Recognizing Karyl, the kids relaxed but kept crying.
'That girl...!'
Scanning the storehouse, Karyl's gaze froze.
The girl who asked him to find her brother.
The kind, innocent child lay cold as a corpse, pierced by an arrow.
'Those dogshit bandit bastards!'
Rage boiled in Karyl's chest, eyes rolling back.
He'd slaughter them all!
One hundred, two hundred bandits— he'd hurl them all to hell!
Fury unleashed, Karyl charged out and attacked the bandits.
But soon he was cornered.
Despite fighting alone valiantly, sheer numbers overwhelmed him.
Finally, drenched in blood with an arrow in his shoulder, Karyl was backed into a corner.
The bandit leader facing the surrounded man demanded,
"Fuck, who the hell are you? Why attack us!?"
A rasping voice escaped Karyl's lips.
"...Pisses me off."
"What?"
"Passing by, saw your shit and intervened. Got a problem?"
Then bullets and arrows flew.
But as violet light flickered from his sword, Karyl charged the foes without hesitation.