''What did you hear?''
"What? I didn't hear anything."
"No, I'm sure I just heard"
Kkeueek…!
From deep inside the dark dungeon, where patches of glowshrooms grew sparsely, a scream drifted toward them on the wind.
"Damn it!"
The mercenaries all jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons.
"Calm down! Everyone be quiet!"
Partek quickly stepped forward.
Aaaah…!
When another scream echoed, Partek exchanged glances with Bryn and ordered:
"Everyone into battle formation! Stand by!"
"What the fuck do you mean stand by!? Sir Maverick went that way!"
One of the mercenaries who had followed Maverick shouted angrily.
Partek pointed his shortsword at him.
"Sir Eugene ordered us to wait here. Anyone who disobeys will be cut down."
"Son of a ! Who the hell are you to"
The mercenary tried to step up to him but stopped abruptly.
Glad, Raban, Bryn, and all their mercenaries had raised their weapons at him.
"If you want to die, go ahead and keep running your mouth."
"We follow Sir Eugene's orders. Drop the weapon, you bastard."
Facing the killing intent of twelve people, the mercenaries who followed Maverick immediately turned pale.
With so few uninjured people left, they had no hope of resisting.
"You weak shits can't even cut a goblin dick, yet you've always got attitude. Shut your mouths and form up."
"Ugh…!"
Bryn's vicious insult perfectly matched his rough looks, and the Maverick-side mercenaries had no choice but to obey.
A moment later, a single torch flickered within the depths of the dungeon.
"They're coming!"
Everyone stared tensely at the approaching light.
"Sir Eugene!"
When they saw the plate armor gleaming under the firelight, Partek and some mercenaries ran toward him.
Eugene approached, covered in blood from head to toe, carrying a torch and a shortsword. His appearance was almost monstrous.
"We were ambushed by monsters. We move immediately."
"Yes, sir!"
Mercenaries and porters hurried after him.
After a few minutes of walking, a horrifying sight unfolded before them.
"Ugh!"
"Bleeegh!"
Some of the weaker-stomached porters collapsed on the spot and vomited repeatedly.
Dozens of monster corpses lay scattered everywhere, and mixed among them were mangled, torn-apart bodies of mercenaries.
The stench of blood and the foul odor of what both monsters and humans had released upon dying made it almost unbearable.
"Goblins… There's even a hob!"
"Is it a total wipeout? No, look there!"
Not everyone was dead. A single survivor was huddled in a corner, legs drawn up tightly.
"Sir Maverick!"
The mercenaries rushed toward him when they recognized the full-chain armor.
Maverick, wearing Eugene's black robe wrapped around his body, slowly lifted his head.
"...!"
The mercenaries widened their eyes.
His gaze was unfocused, and his face was ghostly pale.
He had gone for reconnaissance less than thirty minutes ago, yet he now looked like a completely different person.
Staring blankly at them, Maverick suddenly opened his mouth wide—
"Hraaaah! Kreeeeh!"
and let out a shrill, terrified scream.
"Sir Maverick! What's wrong!? Get a hold of yourself!"
"Kkhh! Kheeeh! Uh… Uhhuu…"
With the robe pulled over his head, Maverick trembled violently and whimpered like an animal.
"What on earth…"
"He's been like that ever since the War Boar tore into his neck. I had to finish it off on my own."
"War Boar!?"
The mercenaries' faces blanched.
Among mid-grade monsters, the War Boar was known as one of the most savage, rivaled only by dungeon trolls.
"Where is it now?"
"I dealt with it. Its corpse is deeper inside."
Bryn and three mercenaries sprinted in the direction Eugene pointed.
Eugene looked down at Maverick again.
"Seems he lost his mind from the shock. I slapped him, tried everything, but he wouldn't come to his senses."
"Hh… Hh… Hhhh…"
The mercenaries looked at Maverick with a hollow expression.
Some of them had seen this before.
War trauma—when someone couldn't overcome the fear and broke down mentally, they looked exactly like this.
A ruined man.
Maverick was finished as a knight.
No—after today, he might not even function as a person anymore.
"Hey! Give us a hand!"
Just then, Bryn and the others returned, dragging a massive carcass the size of two wild boars combined.
"It's real! A War Boar!"
"Look at those tusks."
The mercenaries marveled at the enormous tusks, thick as a man's forearm.
The beast's body was riddled with stab and slash wounds, and lodged deep in its broad forehead was Eugene's spear.
Anyone could see Eugene had fought a brutal battle and slain it alone.
"Given the situation, we'll dismantle the monster corpses here and return. Those who followed Sir Maverick will recover the bodies of their comrades."
"...Yes, Sir Eugene."
With their leader crippled and most of their comrades dead or maimed, the survivors lowered their heads helplessly.
* * *
"Hey… doesn't Sir Maverick seem really strange?"
"Mm."
At Raban's words, Partek glanced toward the back of the wagon at Maverick.
Wrapped tightly in Eugene's black robe, still trembling and whimpering, Maverick no longer seemed like a knight at all.
"He won't eat or drink. We tried giving him an emergency magic stone, but did you see how he screamed like a lunatic?"
Monster-subjugation teams were given one or two magic stones for emergencies—reserved for knights.
They didn't heal instantly, but they could keep a dying person alive for a while.
"It's crazy that someone bitten by a War Boar is even alive… so why won't he take it?"
"How should I know?"
"But don't you think he's actually gone insane?"
Raban whispered, stepping closer.
"Who knows…"
Partek frowned deeply.
Maverick, his skin now bluish like a corpse, had been behaving bizarrely.
Once, he suddenly charged at the mercenaries like an animal, then when Eugene stepped forward, he collapsed and prostrated himself in fear.
It wasn't even like Eugene hit him—he simply blocked the way and glared.
Yet Maverick froze, trembling like prey facing a predator.
Outside the dungeon, he deteriorated further.
He couldn't lift his head or straighten his back, constantly moaning helplessly.
If Eugene weren't there, they would have abandoned him.
Seeing him reduced to this, the mercenaries all began having the same thought:
"Is he cursed?"
"He must've been cursed by the monster bite!"
Mercenaries, used to violence and death, were ironically superstitious.
Maverick's grotesque transformation defied any explanation except that.
"In any case, that knight is done for."
"Right? Whew… good thing Sir Eugene was with us."
The contrast was stark—Maverick, now a broken shell of a man, and Eugene, riding proudly under the faint sunlight.
Of course, none of the mercenaries knew that the dazzling knight they admired was the very reason Maverick had become a ruin.
* * *
"What? What do you mean… Ha!"
Kamara was speechless as Eugene returned several days earlier than planned.
"We couldn't continue the subjugation. Sir Maverick ended up like this, and half the mercenaries he brought died or were heavily injured. We didn't meet the minimum quota, but I did everything I could."
"Tsk."
Kamara clicked his tongue softly as he looked at Maverick trembling between Partek and Bryn.
He didn't care whether Maverick lived or died—but he couldn't argue with Eugene's explanation.
"Well, you took down plenty of low-grade monsters, and a mid-grade War Boar too. Not a bad outcome considering the circumstances. Good work, Sir Eugene."
"Mhm."
Eugene gave Kamara a slight nod, then shifted his gaze.
Bertel, who had been staring blankly with his mouth slightly open, flinched in surprise.
"Come to think of it, Sir Maverick said something… very interesting."
"Huh? What are you talking about now?"
Eugene didn't look at Kamara who tilted his head in confusion—but instead fixed his eyes on Bertel, whose forehead had begun to bead with sweat.
"He said someone hired him to kill me inside the dungeon."
"What!?"
Kamara reacted far more strongly than he had when hearing about what happened in the dungeon, striding toward Eugene.
"What are you saying? Someone hired him to kill you? Why? Who?"
"You can probably ask your younger brother about that."
At Eugene's cold voice, Kamara snapped his head toward Bertel.
"You? Don't tell me—"
"Are you insane, brother!? What nonsense are you trying to say!"
Bertel shouted, glaring at Eugene as if he would tear him apart.
"Sir Eugene! I have no idea what kind of bullshit you're spouting, but you're seriously defaming my honor right now. With no proof—"
"Wouldn't it be enough to simply ask Sir Maverick right now?"
"...!"
Everyone turned to the trembling, panting Maverick, who looked more like a beast than a human.
"What are you saying? He's lost his mind! What testimony could you possibly get from him?"
"Let's ask anyway. What is Lord Tiwyn's stance on this matter?"
"Hmm."
Kamara's expression twisted in complexity.
He did want to drive Bertel out—but having his own brother involved in a "knight-assassination conspiracy" was a different issue entirely.
Even during a territorial war, captured knights were never executed lightly.
Even as enemies, it was tradition to respect the honor of a knight who fought bravely, ransom them, and release them.
But killing a knight in a dungeon?And one who participated in your own family's dungeon expedition?
That would brand not only the culprit, but the entire Tiwyn family, as the worst kind of cowards.
As Kamara struggled, Eugene's low, icy voice slid into his ear.
"If Lord Tiwyn refuses, I'll head to Maren and formally request a trial."
"…!"
Kamara snapped to full alert and met Eugene's eyes.
"Is this a threat…?"
If this reached Maren and a trial was held under the authority of the mayor and the priests, the issue would become catastrophic.
In fact, Eugene who had even been gifted armor by Maren's mayor—could have skipped this entirely and gone to Maren already.
Yet he chose to tell Kamara first.
Then… he's giving me a chance?
Between the Tiwyn family and one troublemaking brother, Kamara's choice was instantaneous.
"Fine. Let's hear him."
"Brother!"
"Shut up! Maverick is insane and can't speak properly anyway! If he can't testify, then nothing will happen!"
"...!"
Shaking his head, Kamara stepped past the pale, trembling Bertel and approached Maverick.
"Sir Maverick of Roen."
"Hhhh…"
Barely lifting his head, Maverick trembled as Kamara asked in a firm but controlled voice:
"Did you attempt to kill Sir Yan of House Eugene inside the dungeon?"
Maverick's wildly trembling eyes suddenly focused—then his cracked lips slowly opened.
"Yes… Sir."
"Broth—"
"Shut your damn mouth!"
Kamara silenced Bertel with a vulgar curse unbefitting a noble, then continued:
"Did you act alone? Or did someone hire you to do it?"
"Huh— I… was hired."
Kamara squeezed his eyes shut without meaning to.
But after a deep breath, he asked the final question.
"Who… hired you to kill Sir Eugene?"
"That…"
Maverick's face slowly turned to one side.
His trembling finger rose to point.
"That man… Bertel Tiwyn ordered it…"
"No!"
With a scream, Bertel whipped out a dagger and charged at Maverick.
Klang! Thud!
Eugene knocked the dagger away with lightning speed using his shortsword, and Bertel collapsed to the ground.
"Ghhk! Gugh!"
Pressing his elbow into Bertel's back, Eugene whispered coldly:
"You're finished."
(To be continued)