After splitting from the old man, Glen raced back along the route from memory.
But soon he got fed up with the main road's detours and just cut straight through the hills and fields.
The new clothes he'd just gotten were already torn to shreds by branches and bushes. Glen figured they looked awful and smelled worse, so he didn't care about the damage.
Trudging along, stopping now and then, he'd been traveling half the day when, still on the move, he suddenly caught a whiff of rot.
Rotten corpses… His brow furrowed. He decided to follow the smell and see what was up.
A little later, Glen spotted a farmhouse in the woods, with a few chickens penned outside. The stench was coming from inside.
A muddy path led from the house to the outside, marked by a mess of footprints.
Gritting his teeth against the stink, Glen pushed open the door. Even with mental preparation, the scene that greeted him soured his mood instantly.
A family of five—parents and three kids. The oldest was maybe fourteen or fifteen; the youngest only seven or eight.
All dead.
He stepped forward and checked each one. Aside from the two kids who'd been strangled, the rest had the same cause of death: slack muscles, deep‑sunken eye sockets, like they'd wasted away from consumption. Whatever method had done it was unknown.
Only seven or eight years old… Glen steadied his emotions, then found places to bury each of the five.
He knew tragedies like this weren't rare in this world, but seeing it with his own eyes still made his blood boil.
In his past life, on missions, he'd witnessed scenes far more brutal. Every time, it stirred something in him.
Back then, he'd been limited by all sorts of rules, unable to act freely. But now? He could do whatever he wanted. Nobody could stop him.
…
Inside a massive hollow dead tree, three dark mages who'd narrowly escaped earlier lowered their spell‑casting hands.
"He said he ran into trouble and the rendezvous point changed?" the one‑eyed mage frowned.
"Shouldn't be. We hadn't been there long, and it was remote. How'd something happen so fast? Knights? Or a mage from the Arcane League?" the hawk‑nosed mage, whose nose nearly touched his chin, chimed in.
"Try contacting him again…" The green‑eyed mage had just suggested it when his expression suddenly changed.
"Someone's coming!" the three said in unison.
No sooner had they spoken than a figure burst in, so fast they couldn't react. Their defensive incantation was still stuck in their throats when a heavy blow struck their heads.
Their constantly active protective magic shattered instantly, and all three dark mages lost consciousness.
When the first mage groggily opened his eyes, he saw, in horror, himself and his two companions hanging upside down, tied to a dead tree.
A ragged young man sat by a campfire, roasting some bird meat.
Seeming to sense the mage waking, Glen, without looking up, said, "You killed that family of five, right?"
Hearing that, the awake mage blinked, then gave a sinister chuckle. "Heh… yeah, we did. You their kin? Friend? Their flavor was great—want me to describe it for you? Heh…"
Since they'd only killed that family recently, it wasn't hard to guess.
Glen nodded, slowly stood, and said evenly, "I've got nothing to do with them. I just don't like your kind. Had some free time, so I figured I'd swing by and kill you."
"What?! You stupid, ignorant brat! We're nobles among mages! We're born superior! You filthy lowlifes who don't understand the glory of magic—we kill you whenever we want! Oppose us? You're not even worthy!"
The dark mage's voice trembled with fury and humiliation. Maybe in his mind, even talking to Glen was beneath him.
These mages are all the same… Whoever spoiled them, I'll never know… Glen waited patiently for him to finish, then said calmly:
"You probably didn't feel a thing when you took those lives, so I figured I'd let you feel what it's like for life to drain away…"
With that, regardless of their reactions, Glen flicked out a wolf claw, sliced a long gash in one mage's arm, and rigged it with a rope so the blood could flow freely to the ground.
He did the same to the other two.
The pain woke the other two, and they started screaming curses: "You despicable punk! We're mages! I command you to release us now! Else… else… it'll be bad!"
"Free us! I'll suck you dry of life energy!"
Glen listened quietly, his expression less like he was hearing abuse and more like he was enjoying praise.
"Save your breath. It'll get worse soon—keep some energy for later screams." When their voices quieted, Glen spoke coolly, then turned and walked away.
The three weakening mages were still puzzling over things when, shortly after Glen vanished, faint rustling arose around them.
A pack of rodent‑like creatures, neither quite rats nor mice, crawled out from under dead leaves and the hollow tree. They had long, sharp front teeth and squeaked as they closed in on the upside‑down trio.
In moments, they'd gathered in a dense swarm, making the mages' blood run cold with dread.
Panicking, they thrashed wildly, but the ropes were tied in some unbreakable way.
When the first strange rat climbed up a mage's body, more followed.
Blood‑curdling screams tore through the sky…
…
Dealing with those scumbags put Glen in a much better mood.
Bottom line: doing what makes you happy is what matters… he summed up, continuing on his way.
He walked straight through the night. Occasionally he passed strangers, mostly farmers, who eyed him like he was a beggar.
Glen didn't care about those looks.
Judging from the area, this seemed to be on the kingdom's fringe—otherwise facilities wouldn't be so backward. He couldn't even find a place to buy a horse… Glen thought with some irritation.
Having to haul his cart by hand had long since rubbed him the wrong way.
Just as he neared the outskirts of Bayek, a fancy carriage rolled up behind him and slowed alongside.
He didn't even need to look—he already knew who was inside by the scent.
Sure enough, the curtain was pulled back by a strikingly handsome blonde girl, grinning mischievously. "Look, Mom—there's a raggedy beggar over here. So pitiful!"
Inside was also a noblewoman with an air of authority. Her eyes stayed half‑lidded, gazing ahead, head slightly tilted up as if always ready to look down on others. Her tone was commanding: "Pernerth, don't waste time on trivialities."
Pernerth was about to reply when Glen, delighted, cut in, "Well, well! If it isn't the kind and generous Miss Pernerth! Did you specially stop to give me a ride? How wonderful! Where's the boarding step? Here? I'm coming…"