Several footsteps could be heard, followed by the fumbling of multiple people.
"There's a trapdoor here! Let's head inside.." A voice called out.
Lancelot's eyes narrowed, his mind racing.
"Undoubtedly, the villagers have already found the bodies of Uncle, Ken and the maids. Now, with the corpse of Sarah only a meter away from me, they'd definitely try to arrest me."
"If they arrest me, I'd receive the death penalty for sure."
Lancelot's fist clenched, his eyes burning like a bonfire, filled with resolve.
"I can't let that happen! I have to live, I have to. For my goals…"
He sucked in a breath.
"I can't escape easily. The only entrance, the trapdoor, is also the only exit."
The trapdoor creaked as it opened, letting a ray of light descend into the gloomy basement. A ladder dropped down with it.
Under his blood-soaked tunic and pantaloons, Lancelot's muscles tensed as he prepared for battle.
"The only thing I can do is fight!"
A young man, with ordinary features, climbed down, his eyes widening with shock as he saw Lancelot.
"Lancelot…You killed the village chief! You Monster!" He cried out, pointing an accusatory finger towards Lancelot.
Bam!
Lancelot dashed forward, using his enhanced body to lunge at the man.
"Uwaahhh!" The young man screamed in terror, stumbling backwards.
With a punch to the chin, he was swiftly knocked out, sprawling onto the floor.
"What?"
"Lancelot is the one who killed Sarah? That's his sister!"
"No way! He would never!
"There's nobody else in the house, that could only mean that he killed the merchants, and those poor maids.."
"Kill him! He's the scum of the earth!"
Multiple people exclaimed, hearing the young man's cry from inside the basement.
The villagers who surrounded the trapdoor stirred, looking down at the trapdoor with furrowed brows.
Suddenly, Lancelot jumped out of it!
"Oh god, he's covered in blood!"
"Look, he's not hurt at all! He's the killer!"
"Get him!"
The villagers, who had stepped backwards out of shock and fear, charged forward, righteous fury filling their eyes.
Everyone one of these people knew and cherished Sarah as the village chief.
Naturally, they wanted revenge.
Wordlessly, Lancelot leaped over the crowd, soaring meters into the air.
His knees buckled as he landed, and, in an instant, he started sprinting!
There were too many people, and after using his Emblem numerous times today, followed by an intense fight, his mental energy and Od were completely used up.
Lancelot had no choice but to flee from the village.
He dashed through the house, charging into the long hallway. Lancelot swerved around corners, eventually reaching the backdoor of the house, near the kitchen.
Exhausted, he opened the door whilst panting, extremely tired.
Lancelot's Soul Dam only had about 3% left, used up by him reinforcing his legs so that he could run faster. Just before Sancho's attack, he had been training using his Emblem, causing his mental energy to be drained.
All in all, his condition was terrible.
Lancelot winced as he felt a surge of pain from his foot, the shards of bone burrowing even deeper into his feet.
"Shit, I don't have the time to get them out.."
He could feel his blood pooling inside his shoe as he limped out the door, stepping into the backyard.
Lancelot's breath hitched, his pupils shrinking down into the size of pin needles.
Around his house was a small hill, and now, on top of this hill was..
20, 30, 50, 100, no.. More than 150 villagers!
There were men, women and children amongst the crowd, their gaze fixed intently on Lancelot's figure.
And, each and every one of them, had the same, maniacal grin.
Sancho's grin.
"I left you a little present." The chorus of voices simultaneously chuckled, spreading their arms.
"You think I'd let you off so easily? You don't deserve a quick death, no. I'll torture you before finishing you myself."
Pat. Pat. Pat.
With a crescendo of laughter, they dashed towards Lancelot like a surging tide.
"..." Lancelot was speechless, standing still as the wave of people madly dashed at him.
Then, he laughed.
It was a genuine, heartfelt laugh.
"Good, good! Come, I'll kill you all!"
Lancelot met the wave of people head on, a grin on his face.
There was no point in crying over spoilt milk. What would falling into despair or regretting the past do? Could it change the present?
No, it couldn't!
The only thing Lancelot could do is to take it in stride. Regret is useless, it couldn't produce change, only actions could. And, right now, he would fight, with complete confidence.
Because, without a doubt, Lancelot expected himself to live beyond this encounter.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Guts, brain matter, and blood splattered everywhere as Lancelot attacked ruthlessly, punches and kicks flying out rapidly.
He kept them all at bay, managing to avoid being attacked at once and overwhelmed by taking the initiative.
At this moment, the group that had gone to investigate inside the house had finally arrived outside, taking in the scene with wide eyes.
"D-Demon.." They couldn't help but mutter, witnessing Lancelot ending lives as easily as breathing, bathing in blood and clawing out entrails with an unnerving grin.
"Don't just stand there! Help our fellow villagers out!" A middle aged man shouted, rallying the group as they joined the battle.
"Crazy bastard!" A few Sancho's snarled, forming a circle around the injured Lancelot.
Lancelot, for his part, smirked as he panted, blood decorating every part of his body.
A magus, at Stage One, was multiple times stronger than an adult male. Even whilst exhausted, Lancelot could still dish out lethal attacks.
A burly man struck at Lancelot, who managed to dodge the blow before retaliating by forcefully ripping out his throat, killing him.
Every muscle in his body ached from overuse, his tendons strained and mind hazy.
Even so, Lancelot was only human. Faced with such a large group of people, victory was but a dream.
This bloody scene continued for more than twenty minutes, with the investigation group being wiped out.
Eventually, the meat puppets managed to tighten the encirclement, their blows starting to connect and bruise Lancelot's worn out body.
"..." Lancelot still retained his smile, sweeping his gaze across the people.
There were a little over 50 left, but that was more than enough to finish him off.
"Fight. Fight to live." Lancelot muttered to himself, a red mist lightly forming in the area due to the excess of blood.
With every step he took, his body cried out in protest. Yet, that wasn't enough to stop him.
"I have to become the strongest. Thus, I cannot die." He sighed.
"What are you blabbering about? You're only a Stage One, though, your performance and determination is admirable." The Sanchos retorted, a cruel grin on their faces as victory drew closer.
"Today is the day you die."
Lancelot ran a bloodied hand through his hand, the knuckles on it red and swollen, with several cuts adorning it.
"So what? Dying isn't the end. I always come back, in one form or another." Lancelot spread his arms.
"..You've gone crazy, haven't you?" The Sanchos said with amusement, now only a meter away from the stationary Lancelot.
"I guess I am." Lancelot grinned, preparing for his 'last stand'.
Slink!
A sword, silver and sleek, cut through the air and decapitated Sancho.
Slink! Slink! Slink!
A sea of swords flew through the sky, blocking out the sun as they descended upon the villagers.
"The fuck..?" A meat puppet exclaimed before being swiftly bisected by a sword.
They were like a flock of birds, diving in and striking their prey with brutal efficiency.
Lancelot looked on in shock, mouth slightly agape as he witnessed this magical scene.
It was overwhelming.
Suddenly, he was snapped back to reality as a sword landed directly in front of him, cutting through the air and embedding in the soil.
A hand patted his shoulder, and he slowly turned his head, looking over his shoulder.
It was a tall man who looked to be in his early thirties, with skin taut against his face. He had a soft smile with sharp, gray eyes, his nose bridge high and straight. A tuft of brown hair was on his head, sleek and slightly spiky.
"Hehe, how interesting." The man grinned.