The wind spirits I summoned cloaked themselves in fierce gales and struck the knights, knocking them off their horses.
The now-riderless horses, overtaken by fear, vanished into the darkness, and some unlucky knights were trampled to death beneath the hooves.
“Ugh… Urgh…!”
Even those who survived the fall were mostly unable to rise due to the shock, only groaning in pain.
In the end, only five knights, including the captain, managed to stand and draw their swords.
“Lord Anak! What on earth are you doing?!”
The emotions reflected in his eyes were varied—anger, fear, confusion, doubt, and guilt.
Seeing those eyes erased the small anxiety lingering in my heart.
Yes, at least I’m not imagining things.
“I was planning to turn a blind eye until we reached our destination, but I can’t tolerate this any longer.”
“What are you talking about…?!”
“The custom of sending flowers to a target—an underworld tradition. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize that, having once traveled with the legendary assassin Baglos?”
“You must be misunderstanding something. If this is about Flamel’s rudeness, he’s been punished, and we’ll apologize. So please…”
The captain was doing his best to maintain his composure and continue the act, but it was meaningless.
The faces of the other knights, whether in the back or collapsed on the ground, had already gone stiff.
“Let’s stop the pointless acting and confess already. You’re not the assassins, are you? Just the transport crew. If you’re lucky, I might even spare your lives.”
He rolled his eyes slightly, as if weighing his options.
But I knew well that this wasn’t him considering surrender.
“Oh? Feeling better now?”
Turning my head in the direction of his gaze, I saw the fallen knights starting to rise, drawing their swords.
As expected, they were just pretending to be knights—sturdy enough, at least.
“Don’t act so smug! You were just lucky to be near the Hero!”
“Don’t think you’ve won just because your sneak attack worked!”
Henri and Beres, huh?
It would’ve been disappointing if it had ended that easily.
“Is that so?”
I dropped my luggage to the ground first, then dismounted.
It’s not like I couldn’t fight on horseback, and staying mounted had its advantages—but unfortunately, the mounted version of my barrier wouldn’t protect the horse.
It was a gentle, kind animal, and I didn’t want it to get hurt.
“Go on and follow the others. I’ll come find you later.”
It couldn’t understand my words, of course, so I summoned a fire spirit to circle behind the horse.
Startled by the sudden heat and flames, the horse bolted into the darkness, its hooves pounding away.
The knights simply watched in confusion as I did this.
“Now then, this is your final chance. Confess and beg for mercy, or come at me.”
At that moment, one of the knights behind me rushed forward.
Compared to Lowell or the others, it was a pitiful move—but still, he had managed to aim for an opening.
He thrust his sword precisely at my neck—but I smiled.
The barrier activated automatically, and his blade shattered just before it touched me.
“……!”
His face twisted with pain and psychological shock.
He likely had little to no experience fighting summoners or mages.
Striking before they could chant was normally the right tactic—but the thing is, mages know that too.
“You should’ve invested in a sturdier sword.”
Magic followed the movement of my hand, and glyphs representing dimension and soul formed in the air.
The knight, still staring in disbelief at his broken blade, hastily leapt backward—he must have thought I was casting an offensive spell.
But as I said, most offensive magic is restricted when this barrier is active.
This was summoning.
As a summoner, I could call forth many entities—but I had already decided what to summon now.
“You laughed when I said I feared bugs. Let’s see you laugh again.”
As the incantation ended, grotesque creatures began crawling out of my shadow.
Child-sized bodies with tough, rock-like shells, long legs, and jagged mandibles split on each side, constantly twitching little pincers beside them.
“Th-this is… no way…!”
Some of them recognized the creatures.
Of course they would.
These monsters had once turned five entire kingdoms into living hell.
Their name was Thanathors Apollydon—one of the infernal insects used by Anupkut, the Demon Insect General.
When I destroyed his surface hatchery, I took one of the egg sacs and hatched it myself in a pocket dimension.
In other words, this was my personal infernal insect army—answering only to me.
“Everyone, run—!”
They turned to flee, but it was meaningless.
What crawled out of my shadow was just a portion—the rest had already emerged from the darkness, completely surrounding them.
“Running isn’t permitted. Not that you’d get far on foot anyway.”
“You’re insane! A companion of the Hero raising infernal bugs?!”
Yeah, Orcan said the same thing when I told him I was going to hatch an egg sac.
“A summoner must prepare useful summons in advance.”
Especially ones like these—primitive beings with no ego or will.
There’s no need for complicated contracts, and it’s much easier to control them through soul resonance.
Of course, I couldn’t summon them so openly in front of others—but here?
“The only issue is feeding them in the pocket dimension. They breed so quickly that they eat each other to keep numbers down, but occasionally they need proper food.”
The color draining from the faces of Beres and Henri was satisfying.
The insect beasts advanced at my will, their jagged mandibles and twitching pincers clicking eagerly, excited for their first real meal in ages.
“W-wait! Please! We don’t know anything! We were just hired by a high-ranking assassin guild to bring you in! We don’t know the details!”
The desperate voice rang out with frantic honesty.
And he was probably telling the truth.
They were just decoys—lures and porters.
Otherwise, that pathetic skill and lack of professionalism couldn’t be explained.
“But you have an idea, don’t you? Like how far they’re willing to go?”
High-ranking assassin guilds aren’t just organizations.
They’re vast federations connected to various factions.
Below them are countless informants, decoys, and porters like these.
Above them?
Elite assassins, talented individuals, and powerful figures pulling strings from the shadows.
They usually live as ordinary knights, mercenaries, wealthy patrons, or politicians, but when assigned a mission suited to their level, they act as members of a high-ranking assassin guild.
For a first-class mission, everyone involved—informants, couriers, decoys, assassins, and even those who clean up the situation or provide support—would be of first-class status.
For a second-class mission, all involved would likewise be second-class.
In other words, even if someone is merely a courier, you can roughly estimate the level of people involved based on the usual caliber of assignments they’ve taken on.
He remained silent at my question.
Understandably so—these matters require absolute secrecy.
The fact that the transport failed and their identity was exposed was already dangerous enough.
If it became known that he had carelessly shared information with the target, even if he survived for now, his life wouldn’t last much longer.
“What are you hesitating for? Who asked you to name the assassins? I’m only asking for the classification of this mission. Also, the exact location, time, contact signals or codes.”
Of course, just saying that might be enough to get on the guild’s kill list.
They said nothing, clearly aware of that themselves.
At the same time, the swarm of insects, which had momentarily halted, resumed its advance.
The grotesque sounds of pincers and mandibles moving filled the area again.
The most primal, fundamental urge—hunger—was all that governed the insects.
“…Alright! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything, just please!”
In the end, he collapsed in fear.
These people live on the edge, so death itself wouldn’t terrify them too much.
But to be eaten alive by these countless insects—gnawed down to the bone—was a far different kind of death.
Especially for those who had encountered these creatures even once during the last great war.
“…That’s everything.”
He told me everything.
I had no way to tell if there were subtle lies mixed in, but either way, he definitely gave me all the information I wanted.
“We told you everything, so please let us go. We promise we won’t show ourselves around you ever again.”
And at least in that moment, they meant it sincerely.
But it’s meaningless.
“I only asked you to tell me. I never once said I’d spare your lives if you did, did I?”
They didn’t understand my words at first.
Then, fleeting suspicion appeared on their faces, followed by despair and rage.
And as I watched those expressions, a twisted smile naturally crept onto my lips.
Yes.
Just as Orcan said, I’m fundamentally different from Lowell and the others.
He compared me to a Vulture, but I think my true nature is, in fact, all too human.
Cowardly, narrow-minded, cruel, and hopelessly flawed.
In every form and every aspect, I am different from those near-perfect beings.
They may think themselves human, but they have no place in such a petty category.
“You bastard! You call yourself a companion of the Hero?!”
“Coward! Fight us one-on-one if you dare!”
Trying to overcome their despair and fear, they resorted to anger, but it was a futile outburst.
There was no Hero Lowell here.
No Yellow Sage Medluf, no Empress of Silence Lauti.
Only me.
There was no light to guide me, no one to complete my flaws.
Besides, this outcome had been decided from the moment we left the village.
I never intended to let them live.
“If you’d shown a little more respect, you might’ve made it to your destination alive. A pity, really. Not that I can’t understand how you felt.”
To people like them, someone like me, separated from Hero Lowell, must have seemed utterly insignificant.
“But what they failed to see was their own insignificance while focusing only on mine. And that was their biggest mistake.”
The insect horde swarmed the knights.
They reflexively swung their swords in fear, but if such efforts could stop them, we’d never have needed a Hero in the first place.
Soon, blood-curdling screams and the sounds of steel being torn apart filled the area.
Henri, Beres, and the other knights could do nothing but watch in agony as they were eaten alive by the insects.
Of course, for the captain who had at least shown me some basic respect, I offered a mockery of mercy—I let the insects eat him starting from the head.
At least he wouldn’t have felt any pain, unlike the others.
“It’s been a while since you had a proper meal. Enjoy it.”