Rowan moistened his lips. He was nervous. Not because he was killing people, but because his enemies were human. As a human who knew humans well, he was tense about facing them.
'Gotta take the risk.'
Separating the men and women was truly brilliant. The bandits also had know-how from raiding and occupying small villages. That experience paid off again this time.
Even idiots get sharp with experience. Moreover, Rowan didn't think they were idiots.
It was impressive that even while indulging in booze and women, they had one or two bandits in each warehouse. Because unless you controlled wolves like Rowan, it was nearly impossible for one person to attack both warehouses.
That's exactly what the bandits were counting on. If Rowan had been alone, attacking would've been impossible.
'That big guy helps too.'
Standing on the palisade with the sun at his back, using the backlight, Rowan clearly remembered that bear-like bandit boss he'd seen. If a guy like that was the leader, you had to go outside when he told you to drink and grope women's asses. Unless you wanted to get beaten to death.
The good news was that they weren't properly guarding the warehouses with the people.
'Probably never been night-raided before.'
Unless you were crazy like Rowan, nobody would make a bet they couldn't win. Especially when the stakes were your own life.
'No bet.'
You could tell just from looking at hunter Geric. It wasn't normal for people to run away. Most people bolt.
You couldn't attack alone, and the means to gather those who'd cleverly avoided disaster without the bandits noticing were firmly divided and bound.
If you lit a fire and sent up smoke, the bandits would find you before the survivors. So you had no choice but to run. It was hard to unite.
'But I've got wolves.'
Unlike hunter Geric, Rowan wasn't tackling this problem alone. He had four wolves. Three bandits total—two with the men and one alone with the women. That was enough to take them out.
'It's not that I'm not confident.'
But Rowan didn't rush in. He planned everything thoroughly.
'Gotta take both warehouses easy and get weapons in the men's hands.'
Bringing a bunch of weapons for the men by himself would take time and drain his stamina. More than anything, the bandits had gathered anything that could be used as weapons somewhere, and Rowan didn't know where.
'That's impossible anyway.'
He needed another way. Even after freeing them, he needed a method to kill the bandits in the mansion.
"..."
Rowan's eyes gleamed in the darkness, looking at what was laid out under the torches.
Come morning, they'd wake up leisurely and use the firewood, oil, and roaring furnace to burn the people in the warehouses alive—all of it was right there.
Substantial amounts, and the firewood was perfect for use as clubs. Light the end on fire, and just throwing it would make an excellent harassment tool. Rowan was counting on one more thing—the bandits' weapon maintenance.
Meaning even if the bandits came charging out during the fire attack, they could fight. Dull blades were no better than clubs. Plus, they had numbers, and most importantly, they were fired up seeing Rakson beaten to a pulp by the bandits.
If Rowan and the wolves coordinated to kill the bandits one by one, they had a shot. Of course, no telling how many casualties there'd be.
'Even mercenaries were sloppy with weapon maintenance—will bandits do any better?'
The burning firewood would probably be enough. Unlike lumber, it still had the bark on, so there was lots of friction, and you could grip it tight with both hands.
"Ah..."
Thinking about that fight, Rowan opened his mouth slightly. Something unexpected popped into his head.
'The village women inside the mansion.'
They were holding Rowan back. But if things stayed like this, it was obvious as day what that pile of firewood and oil barrels in the yard would be used for. A bitter taste rose like bile.
'Dammit.'
In the end, he couldn't save everyone. Even after this was over, some people would definitely resent him. Humans act rationally but turn emotional when family is involved. Knowing that well, Rowan decided not to tell the villagers.
Quietly scouting with his eyes, Rowan felt the cold and knew he couldn't delay any longer.
"You guys circle around and just kill the one man in that building, then run straight back to me. Absolutely no barking, and bite through his throat in one go and tear his mouth apart."
Three wolves disappeared into the darkness in an instant without even responding. Rowan crept through the darkness with wolf Dono.
'Darkness.'
Rowan had thought about its characteristics before. Facing the black wolf in the darkness, he'd pondered darkness's traits. He'd tried to use them.
It provided a pretty substantial combat boost and gave Rowan a different kind of vision.
The more light around you, the less you can see the darkness right in front of your face—that's humans.
'Darkness's superiority.'
That danger.
It didn't take long to understand why the black wolf was so confident and arrogant. Hiding in darkness was easier than you'd think. Because humans rely so heavily on sight. But Rowan's ambush didn't happen even after several minutes passed.
He approached slowly to minimize sound and presence.
Wolf Dono would go for another guy's throat like a ghost the moment Rowan charged.
Right at the warehouse corner, if you charged out, you'd see the bandit at the table and chairs in front of the warehouse, drinking and groping and threatening and tormenting a village woman like kneading dough.
"Keh heh heh. Huh? Why you keep doing that~, spread 'em wider. Told you not to tense up, didn't I? Your legs~. Geh heh heh."
The bandit made beast-like laughter.
"Sob..."
Rowan breathed slowly in and out, then inhaled and charged out. He didn't stick his head around the corner to scout because if his head peeked out to spy on the enemy, they'd notice. That would make things even worse.
Not looking and charging was the best option.
"Hup."
In his hands were a dagger and a throwing knife, and at his waist a shortsword dangled in its sheath.
"Urk!"
The woman blocking the way got hit by Rowan's body and was slammed aside. He saw the bandit with eyes closed, tongue flicking around. He drove the dagger into his throat in one blow.
"You—"
Dono bit the back of the neck of the bandit who stood up looking at Rowan and opened his jaws wide. The bandit face-planted trying to scream and bit his own tongue. Meanwhile, Rowan's throwing knife shot into his crown and buried itself deep and precisely.
Rowan, who'd handled the situation in an instant, searched the two bandits. No keys. They were thorough.
'The bandit boss must have them. Gotta break it.'
The chains and padlock looked solid, but not as solid as a heat-treated and quenched shortsword. But Rowan didn't hastily make metal sounds. If they were cunning, he couldn't rush in carelessly either.
He'd definitely trip up.
"Can you hear me? Is anyone awake?"
A head thumped urgently against the door. With hands and feet bound, the door shook.
"Who, who is it?"
"It's Rowan."
"Oh my God! It's Rowan!"
"Rowan?"
"The Deep Forest hunter Rowan!"
The murmuring quickly died down. That was pretty hopeful. At least it meant someone was controlling them.
"Who's there?"
Many names weren't spoken. After a moment, the captives gave the name of the most influential person there.
"Rakson. Rakson's here, badly injured."
"What's his condition?"
He couldn't hear an answer. Their own lives mattered more than a wounded lion lying there.
"More importantly, get us out of here quick! We heard those guys talking drunk! They're gonna set a fire. The whole village will burn!"
Clank. Clank.
The chains rattled.
"Calm down. As soon as you get out, grab the firewood in front of Rakson's mansion, light it in the furnace, and burn the mansion. The bandits are inside. We gotta burn them all to death. They're no joke. And don't shout."
Rowan kept passing along the message. The villagers had no choice but to communicate without shouting. With the door locked, they had to obediently listen to Rowan.
Some harbored resentment.
"Gonna slap that bastard when I get out."
"Get out first, then think about it."
The bound ones inside were pissed at Rowan's leisurely attitude.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The padlock came off in just three strikes. He opened the warehouse immediately. Putting away his shortsword, he started cutting ropes rapidly with his dagger.
"Quick! Quick! You saw that big bandit, right? He's the most dangerous!"
"Urgh. Huff huff."
A man who'd been sitting for ages stood up and immediately staggered sideways and sat down. His legs had fallen asleep, and his head spun as blood circulated. Still, he stood up, gripping the dirt with his hands. Had to move fast.
"Those bastards! I'm gonna kill 'em all!"
Their commotion couldn't be heard inside. The bandits were busy shouting and guzzling booze, their minds occupied with lusting after the village women. But the first man to arrive lit the fire, then hesitated at the sound of women's voices coming from the mansion.
"It's not just bandits in there."
"What're you doing? Rowan said to light the fire quickly."
"Our people are inside."
"So what? You're gonna fight a butcher who shoots arrows, swings swords, and hunts people? Fuck off!"
A man who'd ruthlessly lit firewood and run up to give one to each person said.
"Circle around carefully. Gotta light the fire from the back. That way they all burn."
"Got it."
Nobody had second thoughts about burning people alive. When a young man walked forward, saying there were other people inside besides bandits, the villagers subdued him instantly.
"Drag this bastard out!"
"Let go! Urk!"
A hand went into his mouth. To shut him up the moment he made noise, they roughly shoved a hand in. At first, one person grabbed him, but by the time five people passed the furnace, they were holding down one young man. A rag was stuffed in his mouth, so snot dripped with wheezing breath sounds from his nostrils.
'N-no. My little sister. Reni, Reni's in there!'
He struggled. People pressed down on him enough to cut off his breathing. Later on, even thoughts of his sister disappeared.
"Hngh. Hng! Mmph! Gah!"
'P-please.'
He struggled to live, to breathe, but people didn't stop. By the time he stopped breathing, people hadn't realized he was dying.
And then everyone would distance themselves from responsibility, flailing around.
As villagers holding firewood and lit torches were about to set fire to the mansion where people were partying behind closed wooden windows, Rowan was checking on Rakson.
"Ro...wan..."
His wrist was severed. Rakson's eyes rolled, then dropped shut. Rowan cut down the wrist that dangled from the ceiling like a mobile, tied by rope to the severed stump, and set it on the floor.
'Bastards.'
"You okay?"
The bandaged wound already showed yellow from secondary infection. Not good.
His face was a bloody pulp, so swollen that you couldn't recognize his face or features.
"Grrr..."
The wolves growled and approached, gathering around Rowan. Seemed the bandit guarding the women had met his death too.
'Seven in the mansion.'
Rowan sorted out the situation instantly.
"My... hngh..."
Blood mixed with saliva dripped from Rakson's mouth as he spoke. His body was so messed up that he couldn't even swallow spit. When his lower jaw moved, a tooth fell out with a click.
Terrible condition. Bad enough others would step back. But Rowan moved closer.
"What? Rakson? Mr. Rakson?"
Rakson, who'd been just breathing, widened his eyes and raised his head. Blood trickled down from his forehead. It was creepy, but Rowan opened his eyes wide and didn't even breathe, trying to capture his final moments.
A raspy final cry hit Rowan's ears.
"Find my secret manual! There's something at the end I couldn't copy! Head there!"
Finishing his words, he dropped his head. Rowan put his hand to his neck. No movement in the blood vessels that should've been pulsing. He didn't close those wide-open eyes.
'On your way, watch those bandits burn.'
Rakson's secret manual was in a specific wooden case in his second-floor private office. He had to get it.
'Retired veteran Rakson's legacy.'
Didn't sound that impressive, but Rowan never took it lightly. Just the twelve secret sword techniques from knights that he'd gained during his military career were extraordinary. His ambition must've been huge in his youth.
He wanted to know Rakson's secrets. Rowan looked at the house starting to blaze and grabbed the spare rope the bandits had left lying around when they tied people up. He tied a thick stone and threw it at the second-floor window.
The second-floor window, opened for morning ventilation, had stayed open with nobody to close it.