Chương 19: Civilization

Taz thought this was gonna be an easy job. Grab some idiot wandering the road, tie 'em up, drag 'em back to home base, then sell the fool off to the elves and get paid. He and the rest of the boys didn't usually work this stretch of road, but the boss had heard from one of his contacts that an Elf Warden was heading to one of the frontier villages near the forest. Folks always started running after one of those knife-ears paid a visit, and desperate people made easy targets.

The elves paid good money for healthy slaves, and Taz would've much rather been the one selling people than the being sold himself. As he dragged their latest catch along by the arm, he suddenly heard a strange choking noise behind him. Taz looked over his shoulder, and was shocked to see that the boss had dropped to one knee. Both hands were clutched around his own throat, fingers digging hard into the skin. His mouth hung open as he desperately tried to suck in air, but all that came out were strained gasps.

He'd always thought the boss could be a real prick, but that didn't mean he wanted him dead. The boss had taken Taz in years ago when he'd had nothing but the clothes on his back and an empty stomach. If it weren't for him, Taz would've probably starved in a ditch somewhere a long time ago. Without another thought, Taz let go of his prisoner and rushed over.

"Boss?" Taz couldn't make sense of it. They hadn't stopped to eat before setting out, so it wasn't like the boss had choked on his food. Maybe some big bug had flown into his mouth while he was yawning? Forests were full of nasty little things. Trying to help, Taz grabbed the boss from behind, wrapped both arms around his stomach, and gave a hard upward yank. The boss lurched, coughing and gagging, but nothing came out. Taz did it again, squeezing even harder this time, then a third time.

"Come on... spit it out!" he yelled. The boss's struggles grew weaker with each second. His legs became limp, forcing Taz to tighten his grip to keep him upright. Then came a sharp crack, and in an instant, all the strength left the boss's body. The sudden shift nearly sent Taz stumbling as the dead weight collapsed into his arms, and he hurried to ease the man onto the ground.

"Boss?" Taz asked, giving him a shake. There was no answer. Taz looked up at the others and saw the color had drained from every one of their faces. Even the bastard they'd been trying to kidnap had stopped struggling, standing frozen with wide eyes as he looked at the boss's motionless body. Taz had no idea what had just happened. One moment the boss had been fine, and the next he was dead. The only person Taz could think to blame was the man they'd just captured, because who else could it be?

He slowly climbed to his feet, never taking his eyes off the trembling prisoner.

"You, what's your name?" The man swallowed hard.

"R-Ronald." Taz took a step forward.

"What'd ya do to the boss, Ronald?"

"I-I didn't do anything, I swear!"

"Yeah?" Taz turned toward one of the men still gripping Ronald by the shoulder.

"Oi, give our new friend here a proper welcome. Rough him up a bit." The bandit laughed and pulled back his fist.

"With—" The words caught in his throat. His eyes suddenly widened as both hands flew to his neck. He staggered backward, clawing frantically at his throat as though invisible fingers had wrapped themselves around it. Suddenly, another one of the boys, the one still carrying Ronald's rusty machete, shouted and charged toward the prisoner. This did not work at all. His right leg suddenly jerked backward at a sickening angle, as though something unseen had kicked it out from under him.

A sharp crack echoed before the man fell face-first into the dirt with enough force to knock the wind clean out of him. Taz couldn't believe what he was seeing, he could barely make sense of anything that was happening. His eyes darted between his remaining comrades. The one who'd fallen was still groaning, clutching his leg. The other… wasn't moving anymore. His body crumpled on the ground beside Ronald, hands still wrapped around his own throat, eyes staring blankly into nothing.

Taz trembled slightly, because he knew that this wasn't normal. Nobody else was here except for him, his buddies, and… Ronald. Taz looked around the trees, expecting an arrow, a hidden crossbow, anything that made sense, but there really was nothing. It took a few seconds for Taz's brain to come up with some kind of answer, until an idea hit him. This Ronald guy had to be some rogue wizard, and if true, then Taz wanted absolutely nothing to do with that sort of smoke.

"Screw this!" He spun around and broke into a run, but he managed only two steps. A crushing force slammed into both of his legs, sweeping them out from beneath him so suddenly that he barely had time to yelp before crashing onto his back. Groaning, Taz forced himself back onto his elbows, and that was when he heard someone gasping. He looked up just in time to see his last remaining companion clutching at his throat. The man stumbled before collapsing beside the others, twitching only briefly before falling still.

Taz quickly turned back toward Ronald, expecting to see the man laughing or smirking after whatever trick he'd pulled. Instead, Ronald hadn't moved an inch. He wasn't smiling at all, and if anything, he looked just as frightened as everyone else, maybe even more so. That didn't make any sense if Ronald was the one actually killing everyone, but if the prisoner wasn't the one doing all this, then who was? This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Then Taz noticed something. A bright purple caterpillar who was on top of Ronald's backpack. For a moment, Taz simply stared at the tiny creature. He didn't get to look for long though, as pressure began tightening around his throat, growing heavier with each second.

Ronald's hands shook so badly he could barely feel them. He kept staring at the bodies, waiting for one of the bandits to get back up or for whatever had killed them to come after him next. But for whatever reason, it seemed he was spared from whatever happened to the bandits. His mind tried to come up with some kind of answer. Maybe they'd all eaten something bad before they found him. Maybe they'd taken some strange drug. But even he knew that didn't make much sense. Ronald took a breath, then another.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and looked around the road, but there was nothing there that was noteworthy. Maybe the gods had been watching over him. Maybe some spirit in the forest had decided those bandits deserved what they got. Maybe there was another reason altogether. Ronald didn't know, and at this point, he didn't really want to know. He wasn't some priest or scholar who went chasing mysteries. He was just a farmer who wanted to reach his uncle's place without getting himself killed.

After standing there for another minute, Ronald looked down at the bodies again. It felt wrong to rob dead men, but those bandits probably had some decent stuff on them. Besides, those same dead men had been about to chain him up and sell him to the elves, fair's fair. Trying not to think too hard about it, Ronald searched the bodies as quickly as he could. He found a handful of coins, a couple of daggers, and a nice waterskin that looked a lot better than his old one. Soon, into the backpack they all went.

The bandits weren't going to be needing any of it anymore. Once he was done, Ronald slung the pack over his shoulders and started walking again. He kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead and never once looked back. Whatever had happened back there, he wanted nothing to do with it.

[You have Leveled Up! 24 >> 25] [Strength +1, Agility +1, Vitality +1] [A Skill has been Upgraded] [Psy-Crush >> Psy-Crush I] Well, eliminating the bandits had proven surprisingly straightforward. The only real inconvenience was that Psy-Crush still required my attention on a single target, forcing me to dispatch them one at a time. The bandit furthest away naturally required a little more patience than the others. But in the end, I had accomplished what I intended.

My unwilling carrier was still alive, the troublesome bandits had been dealt with, and the System had even seen fit to reward my efforts with another level and an upgraded Skil, all decent rewards. More importantly, the man who was carrying me never seemed to notice my involvement in the slightest. While he stood there trembling and attempting to make sense of the deaths surrounding him, I returned to the backpack through the opening I had previously enlarged.

Shortly afterward, he rummaged through the fallen bandits' belongings and unceremoniously deposited several additional items into the pack. The extra daggers, coins, and waterskin made my accommodations somewhat more cramped than before, but my current body was fortunately small enough that the inconvenience amounted to just a mild annoyance. I soon settled back into a reasonably comfortable position before allowing the man to continue carrying me.

As the swaying of the backpack resumed, I found my thoughts returning to Psionics. While Psy-Crush was certainly not subtle from the victim's perspective, it appeared to be almost impossible for outside observers to identify its true source. I doubted that anyone would ever consider that a brightly colored caterpillar might be responsible for using psionics to remove people. Better still, I had only recently unlocked Psionics in the first place.

If these modest beginnings were any indication, I felt excited for what more extraordinary abilities awaited me in the future. The following days passed in uneventful fashion. My routine has settled back to the usual for these past weeks. Throughout the day, I hid within the backpack while my unsuspecting carrier continued his journey, and once night fell and he drifted into sleep, I emerged to eat whatever plants were nearby. Once I had eaten my fill, I returned to the backpack well before the man awoke.

Naturally, I did not spend the entirety of each day idly waiting. During our travels, I continued observing my unwilling host whenever opportunities presented themselves, gradually learning more about his habits. He remained cautious, often glancing over his shoulder whenever he heard an unfamiliar noise, yet he never once inspected his belongings thoroughly enough to discover me.

That suited me just fine, since the less attention he paid to his backpack, the longer my convenient mode of transportation would remain available. Eventually, however, something changed. I began hearing distant voices, followed by the clatter of wagon wheels rolling. Somewhere nearby, metal rang against metal, while the occasional bark of a dog echoed. It was a collection of sounds I had not heard since awakening in this body.

Unable to resist, I carefully crawled toward the small opening I had previously chewed into the backpack and cautiously looked outside. My carrier had just passed beneath a pair of sturdy wooden gates that marked the entrance to what was most likely a village. A wooden palisade surrounded the settlement, more likely intended to discourage wild beasts than repel an army, while a handful of weary-looking guards stood watch beside the entrance. Beyond the gates was a dirt road lined with modest wooden cottages.

It was hardly an impressive settlement by any objective measure, yet after spending so long surrounded by nothing but trees, beasts, and insects, the simple sight of civilization stirred something deeper in me. As my carrier continued walking through the village, I saw the people going about their ordinary lives. A blacksmith stood outside his forge, striking a glowing horseshoe upon an anvil. Nearby, a pair of women chatted as they hung clothes on a line, pausing every so often to laugh at some joke.

Farmers returned from the fields with muddy boots and tools slung across their shoulders, while merchants called out to passing customers from simple wooden stalls. Several youngsters chased one another through the streets with wooden sticks clutched in their hands, loudly proclaiming themselves to be brave adventurers slaying monsters. There had been many occasions when I personally toured the countryside, particularly the villages scattered along my Empire's borders.

I had considered it my responsibility to ensure my subjects were not forgotten simply because they lived far from the capital. Whenever word of my arrival spread, the entire village would gather to greet me warmly. Looking upon this little village now, I found myself unexpectedly missing those days. Sentimentality, however, could only occupy my thoughts for so long. Before long, one building in particular caught my eye.

Though far smaller and more modest than those I remembered, I could immediately recognize it as an Adventurer's Guild. This one was a two-story building that stood near the center of the village, its entrance marked by a wooden sign bearing a crossed sword and shield. A few armed men and women lingered outside chatting, while weathered notices covered the boards beside the door. However, much as I felt nostalgic seeing an adventurer's guild, something even more curious soon caught my eye.

Just as my carrier walked past, the front door opened, and someone stepped outside wearing a metal collar around their neck.