As a member of a warrior family, it was somewhat shameful for Kurosu to hide his true identity. Though it might be unavoidable in this case, he still found it difficult to lie. Thus, as a last resort, he chose to introduce himself simply as a “traveler.”

Even if he appeared somewhat suspicious, Kurosu figured he wouldn’t be met with outright fear this time.

With that in mind, he awaited a response from the settlement. Soon enough, strange cries rang out from the dwellings, as though in unison.

“Wait a minute… I’m unarmed this time. Why do they all come running with weapons in hand?”

One by one, the villagers emerged from their homes, brandishing weapons. The atmosphere was far from welcoming.

Among them, a particularly burly and wild-looking man led the charge, his eyes bloodshot and frenzied. He bellowed incoherent words while saliva dripped from his mouth. While the others carried crude spears and clubs, this man alone held a conspicuously impressive sword.

Could he be the leader of this place? More importantly, did these people even understand his words?

It wasn’t uncommon for people in remote mountain villages to be illiterate, but Kurosu had never heard of a settlement where none could speak. Even for an isolated community like this, he hadn’t expected such a complete lack of communication.

Still, he had finally found human habitation. He hoped to resolve this situation peacefully, at the very least to learn the way to the nearest town.

“Is there no one among you who understands my words? I have important information regarding your people, and I –”

As Kurosu tried to speak louder and persuade them, his voice trailed off as he noticed “something” in the center of the settlement, and his jaw dropped.

At a glance, it appeared to be an altar.

Raised slightly above the surrounding ground, a long stake had been driven into the earth. Atop it, the large, fang-filled skull of a beast was displayed. Around the base of the stake, colorful flowers were scattered incongruously – and among them lay several severed human heads.

From ancient, bleached skulls to those that appeared freshly severed, there were more than twenty in total.

A grave marker…?

No, that’s not it.

For a moment, Kurosu wondered if this was the unique mourning custom of the settlement. However, upon observing the expressions on the severed heads, he dismissed that foolish thought.

The faces were a mix of old and young, men and women, but all were contorted in agony. Such expressions could not result from mere sickness or injury.

Undoubtedly, these were the faces of those who had suffered and died in torment.

He had thought them to be unusually aggressive, but now it made sense – this was a settlement of bandits.

Kurosu silently acknowledged this realization and swiftly swung his arm.

“Yeeaaargh!”

Following a sharp whooshing sound, a loud scream echoed through the forest. The burly man who had been in the lead now had a small blade protruding from his left eye.

“You wretches who can only survive by stealing from others – you are a scourge. Die. Everyone in this settlement will be annihilated.”

Kurosu’s declaration, his face twisted in anger, was filled with murderous intent. An indescribable mixture of hatred and disgust surged from the depths of his gut.

For those who protected the lands as a warrior family, bandits were an intolerable pest. They destroyed the carefully cultivated fields and brought harm to the people they were supposed to protect. They were the most repugnant of vermin, like maggots.

Kurosu didn’t know whose territory this forest belonged to, but he couldn’t ignore what he saw.

“Aaaaargh…gah!”

As the burly man clutched his face and crouched, Kurosu approached and drove a small blade into his skull. The specially crafted weapon had a sharpened tip, which shattered the man’s brain with one strike.

Kicking the man’s body to turn him face-up, Kurosu picked up the sword that had fallen from the lifeless hand and scrutinized it.

It was an unfamiliar design. A broad double-edged sword, slightly shorter and a bit heavier than his beloved weapon.

“What the–!?”

Trying a test slash on a nearby frozen figure, the blade penetrated the shoulder, severed the collarbone, and stopped in the chest.

“It’s a bit dull… but the weight is nice. This will do.”

Feeling a slight thrill at using a new weapon, Kurosu struck down the approaching enemies with swift cuts.

Just like the first group he encountered, these villagers didn’t seem to know the most basic battle strategy of surrounding and attacking their enemy. Instead, they charged forward with a foolish single-mindedness. There were no long-range attacks like arrows, and the few who had long spears were hindered by the crowd and couldn’t use them effectively. They either lacked the intelligence to fight cooperatively or were so eager to overwhelm that they simply rushed in.

However, they showed no sign of faltering, even after their leader had been killed. Whether it was due to their sheer tenacity or a belief in their numerical advantage, not a single one of them hesitated.

With this much courage, they could have made something of themselves on the battlefield instead of resorting to banditry. They were truly a difficult bunch to understand.

By the time Kurosu had killed about ten of them, his sword was so slick with blood and fat that it could no longer cut, but that wasn’t a problem against these opponents. Even if it couldn’t cut, it could still function as a blunt weapon to crack open skulls.

Kurosu darted around the settlement, taking lives one after another until not a single scream could be heard.