Abel looked at his reflection on the water’s surface.
His own eyes met his gaze.
His pupils were a deep ultramarine.
Some people apparently found his gaze to be dark.
The eyes of someone who had killed his father and known nothing but loss.
The eyes of a starving beast.
The color of his soul was showing through.
A beast that longs for something, yet doesn’t know what it is.
A curse, like an insatiable hunger that no amount of devouring could ever satisfy…
It had been nearly three years since the Highwand Count family, at the emperor’s command, had dispatched troops to the Central Plains.
Day after day, Abel continued his training without pause, and his body had grown rapidly.
Whether in rain or wind, he swung his wooden sword and repeatedly activated his magical power.
The more he trained, the more robust his entire body became.
Abel pictured the physiques of his current-life parents, Walter and Ayla.
By the standards of his previous life, Ayla was a tall beauty, around 170 centimeters.
Walter was probably about 185 centimeters.
Abel imagined he might reach that height himself in his late teens.
He wondered if, by continuing to hone his abilities like this, he might someday obtain something that would satisfy that hunger.
But the thing he truly desired remained formless, and no answer ever came…
Just then, another figure appeared in the reflection on the water.
Skin as smooth as marble, clear eyes like rubies.
Soft, lustrous black hair.
Cheeks traced by gentle curves and refined features.
Her appearance implied she was about fifteen by human standards.
It was Ise, the half-demon knight.
One of Ise’s defining traits was how she never showed her emotions.
Her emotional fluctuations were minimal; she rarely smiled but likewise never got angry.
Her heart was always calm, and thus, she never insulted others.
In battle, her movements were graceful.
She neither oppressed the weak nor coddled them.
Her emotions were, so to speak, like water.
Before he knew it, Abel had come to feel a trust toward Ise that resembled affection.
It wasn’t as a woman. At least, that’s what he thought.
So perhaps it was something like camaraderie.
It was a state of mind he had never experienced before, so he couldn’t quite understand it.
Abel tossed a small stone into the spring.
Ripples shimmered across the water’s surface, and the beautiful face of Ise, which had been reflected there just moments ago, vanished.
“We’re heading out soon.”
“Yes, Lady Ise.”
A breeze carrying the scent of trees blew in from the forest.
Mounted on horseback, Abel became aware of the geography.
They were in the northern part of the Highwand County.
It was currently the area where public safety had deteriorated the most.
Apparently, an armed group of nearly forty people had infiltrated from the non-human lands.
The leader was likely a magic user.
Highwand was located in the easternmost region of the Empire, close to both the non-human lands and the Central Plains.
Because it was easily accessible from both inside and outside the Empire, it had always been prone to instability.
Yet despite that, most of the knights and soldiers had been sent off to war, leaving the territory lacking in troops.
And possibly to fund the war, the Empire had once again raised taxes.
One could feel the growing unrest among the people.
This wasn’t limited to Highwand alone.
Similar phenomena were reportedly happening across the Empire’s duchies and counties.
The whole country was becoming increasingly unsettled.
Following Ise and Baron Gatu, Abel had been going on patrols. Not just around the city of Porto, but sometimes on missions lasting as long as ten days.
They were in the middle of such a mission now.
It was late summer.
By now, even Abel finally owned a horse.
His status remained that of a squire, though…
When it came time to purchase the horse, Baron Gatu kindly helped him choose one.
Abel had no knowledge of what made a good horse, so he was deeply grateful.
A good horse was, of course, extremely expensive. It cost eight gold coins.
That equated to 400 silver coins.
There was no way a squire earning only ten silver coins a month could afford that, but there were ways. Through war spoils and other forms of extra income.
And by being frugal and saving steadily, he had finally scraped together the funds.
He had wanted to name the horse “Pine wind”, as any Japanese person naturally might, but he resisted the urge.
Instead, he settled on the name “Gale”.
A five-year-old male with a beautiful chestnut coat.
He was a horse known more for endurance than speed.
With thick, sturdy legs, he could traverse the open plains with ease.
He was an extremely intelligent horse. Almost as if he could read Abel’s thoughts and act accordingly.
A warhorse must not only be obedient but also have the courage to charge at magical beasts, and this one had just such a temperament.
Taking care of a horse was no easy task.
For example, if the cold became severe, it couldn’t be kept outside for long.
In fact, it needed to be sheltered in a barn to protect it from the chill.
A diet of only hay would be unbalanced, so he also fed the horse safe vegetables and the like.
Care had to be taken to make sure it didn’t eat poisonous plants.
At times, even its sweat had to be wiped off, or else the horse would quickly fall ill.
That was why every town had veterinarians for horses.
Normally, a knight’s horse was cared for by his squire.
It was one of the squire’s important duties.
But Ise took care of his own horse herself…
The party was also accompanied by the beastkin Walt.
Walt had been officially registered as Abel’s slave.
Without that, he might have been executed as a criminal for illegal border crossing.
These days, obtaining residence permits for non-humans was extremely difficult, but registering one as a slave was easy.
Around Walt’s neck gleamed a collar—
It was the mark of slavery.
From time to time, he would remove it himself, polish it until it shone, and then put it back on…
Before reaching the target village, they dismounted.
They tied the reins to a nearby tree trunk and moved quietly.
“It stinks. The smell of rotting corpses.”
After scouting the area, they entered the village. Corpses were scattered everywhere.
All of them were elderly or middle-aged.
Beside the bodies lying on the ground were farming tools like plowshares that must have been used as weapons.
The bodies were brutally mutilated, stabbed repeatedly, and torn apart.
Some had their eyes pierced with blades.
It was clear they had resisted, only to be tortured to death.
The culprits robbed and pillaged, then bound young men and women to sell them as slaves, quickly dragging them off into the non-human lands.
By utterly destroying an entire village and vanishing before anyone could catch them, they had struck the same way last year.
They were enemies who could never be forgiven.
While examining tracks, Gatu discovered the direction in which the armed band had fled.
Walt’s nose confirmed the same trail.
“Sir Gatu, what’s the plan?”
“Best to hit them in their sleep. Even if we can’t wipe them out, cutting their numbers will make it harder for them to move the villagers they’ve taken.”
“But if the captives get in the way, won’t they be killed?”
“They’re valuable goods… They won’t kill them until the very last moment. Besides, we’ll make sure they realize killing them is pointless. Either way, these aren’t people you can reason with. We’re doing this.”
There was iron resolve in Gatu’s voice.
An unavoidable battle was drawing near.
Abel nodded.
As they continued their pursuit, the sun sank low, and the forest grew dim ahead of schedule.
When Walt picked up a fresh scent, they tied up the horses on the spot and advanced on foot.
Soon, night had fallen.
The darkness beneath the forest canopy was so deep that even moonlight could hardly reach.
But Ise and Walt were strong at night.
The two of them took the lead.
Abel followed a short distance behind, while Gatu kept watch over their rear.
Before long, they came upon an open field where men sat around campfires.
The grass was tall enough that lying flat would hide their bodies.
Moving cautiously to avoid making a sound, Abel spotted sentries.
He counted three of them.
The three stood together, talking.
There were likely more sentries posted farther away.
Abel observed them carefully—
Their weapons, armor, and builds.
Two carried spears.
The third had a crossbow slung over his back.
Ise crept closer and signaled.
From a safe distance, far enough that the enemy would not sense his mana, Abel invoked the third rank of weather magic “Whirlwind” at its weakest level.
A strong breeze swept across a wide area, stirring up the air.
Unlike Gust, one of the spell’s features was its broader range.
The tall grass rustled noisily.
Their footsteps vanished beneath the sound.
Ise and Walt sprinted through the darkness.
With barely a sound, Walt leapt, slashing the throat of a spearman from behind.
In the same instant, Ise drove her greatsword through the neck of the man beside him.
As the crossbowman faltered in panic, Abel rushed from behind and his blade drove deep into the man’s neck.
A scream would have exposed the ambush. That was why they aimed only for vital points.
Blood gushed in torrents, splattering like spilled water.
The crossbow slipped from his hands as his eyes went wide.
The stench of blood thickened in the air.
The sentries fell silent forever.
Abel’s group pressed closer toward the bandits.
There were four campfires, each set apart at intervals.
They couldn’t strike all at once.
Ise narrowed her eyes.
“There are no captives near that fire.”
She pointed to a cluster of about ten sleeping men.
“Abel, this is our chance. If they use the hostages as shields, you won’t be able to unleash powerful magic. We need to wipe that lot out here and now. I’m counting on you.”
Abel gave a firm nod.
He roused the mana within him. It was a weightless force invisible to the eye.
He pushed it harder, accelerating its flow.
Once the power reached its peak, he shaped it into a Fireball.
Flames coalesced in the air—
Not one, but five balls of fire.
Even within the knight order, only a handful of mages could summon five at once.
He could have conjured more, but five was more than enough.
The cluster of fireballs streaked into the sleeping group.
Explosions ripped through the night.
Deafening blasts split the air.
Limbs were torn apart and hurled into the darkness.
The ambush had succeeded. The ten men were dead or dying.
There was no need for a follow-up.
Abel’s party charged toward another group.
Naturally, the surviving bandits had leapt to their feet, shouting in confusion.
“Enemies!”
One man cried out.
Gatu hurled a dagger.
It pierced the screamer’s eye.
Gatu was a master of shadow arts. He excelled at striking with such unorthodox techniques.
Ise, at the front of the group, swung her greatsword.
The face of a bandit who was just getting up split open like an overripe fruit.
Next, a fluid thrust pierced the chest of another bandit.
It was a series of attacks executed with extreme precision.
A bandit drew his two-handed sword.
He launched an overhead slash, but Ise deflected it with ease.
Without missing a beat, she skillfully entangled the enemy’s weapon and knocked it upward.
In that instant, the two-handed sword flew into the air.
The bandit’s face froze in disbelief.
Still unable to grasp what had happened, his chest was cleaved open by her greatsword.
Walt was no less swift.
With the beastkin’s signature, uncanny movements—
He lowered himself to the ground like a four-legged beast and attacked from below with his daggers.
Sometimes he would kick or punch with inhuman, unpredictable motions.
None of the bandits could cope with such erratic movement.
Abel visualized Third Rank Water Magic: Ice Spear.
It couldn’t pierce through iron, being just hardened ice. But aiming for exposed faces or thighs would do.
“Ice Spear!”
The launched spear of ice struck a bandit’s thigh.
With a scream, the man collapsed.
It wasn’t a wound one could continue fighting with.
Without immediate treatment, it was fatal.
He hadn’t been counting, but they’d killed over ten by now.
Combined with the previous fight, that likely meant half the enemy force was down.
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