Chapter 223: The Code of the Wind Knight

A figure running away, pursued by Josel.

He recognized that figure from behind. It was the man who had shot arrows at him at the scene of the carriage attack.

This pursuit was a reenactment of that day. So, naturally, what awaited him at the end of the chase would be a trap.

As they reached a slightly open area, a man who seemed to be the leader of the bandits, armed with a bow, stood ready in front of him. And on either side of him were his henchmen.

What they held in their hands were… crossbows!

“You’re an idiot, aren’t you? You should have treasured the life you were lucky to have picked up.”

The leader laughed incredulously. He appeared to be in his early thirties, around the same age as Josel.

“I came here to live proudly.”

“Is that so? Then die with pride!”

The leader motioned with his chin, and deadly arrows were released from the crossbows wielded by his henchmen. Launched from powerful taut strings, these ultra-high-speed arrows were unavoidable.

“Hmph!”

Josel, wielding Night Killer, gathered his determination, and a barrier of wind enveloped him. Hindered by the gust, one arrow flew off in a different direction, while another grazed Josel’s arm and disappeared into the distance.

“What!?”

Josel charged forward. The leader shot another arrow in pursuit, but even a skilled archer would be too flustered to hit Josel now.

Swatting away the arrow, Josel pressed on without losing momentum. A horizontal sweep of Night Killer sliced through the leader’s proud bow and pride. The string lost tension, and the remnants of the bow swayed emptily.

Rather than finishing off the leader, Josel first redirected his attention to the henchmen. Leaving them alone would be troublesome.

The True Night Killer didn’t constantly maintain a barrier of wind. It was only for a moment, infused with determination. Moreover, it caused significant mental fatigue, making it impractical for continuous use. Josel wanted to take down the crossbow wielders here and now.

The henchmen made a mistake here. Despite the enemy being right in front of them, they attempted to reload the crossbows. They had become overly reliant on their powerful weapons. It was literally their downfall.

Josel’s sword pierced the throat of a frightened henchman. Blood gushed out like a burst water pipe. The henchman’s eyes rolled back.

Josel turned his body halfway and attacked another henchman. Although the henchman aimed a crossbow without string at him, it was a meaningless gesture. Night Killer swung down in a diagonal slash, cutting through the bandit’s flesh, bones, and organs.

Before the two henchmen could fall, the leader swung his sword down from above Josel’s head.

No, it wasn’t a sword; it was a katana. Faintly glowing with three characters on the blade. The pale light was proof of the blade being enchanted for sharper edges.

Josel swung up Night Killer as if scooping it from below. The two magic swords clashed fiercely and were repelled.

As they stepped back to create distance, both wore expressions of astonishment.

How stupid, why didn’t it cut? He had intended to cut his opponent’s weapon in half. He had believed his weapon capable of it.

“Where did you get that sword?”

 Josel asked, glaring at the leader’s sword. The leader snorted in response.

“I got it from a kind old man.”

A few moments ago, Josel might have been infuriated by this answer. But now, having survived many fierce battles and gained confidence from wielding his own magically imbued weapon, he had the composure to quickly change his mindset.

“…You’re lucky you’re trash. I can kill you without hesitation.”

“You killed many of my comrades and yet you have the nerve to say that. They all lived with all their might; doesn’t it bother you?”

“If there are mice in the house, you kill them. It’s only natural; I would do the same.”

“You put a price on others’ lives without permission. That’s typical of nobility.”

“If you had lived uprightly and properly, I might have listened to your complaints.”

“If you obediently follow them, you’ll just be used until you die!”

The leader tightened his grip on the sword and lunged forward. Josel managed to block it somehow but was overpowered, causing him to lose his balance.

Josel found himself on the defensive against the leader’s relentless attacks. The leader’s eyes burned with anger, each strike filled with resentment, causing Josel’s hands to go numb with each blow.

He wanted to ask what had happened, but he knew he wouldn’t get an answer. If the leader’s anger was not directed at the rulers but rather used as an excuse to oppress the weak, that was unforgivable.

With a thud, Josel felt the impact on his back, cornered against a tree.

“This is the end,” the leader said, a cruel smirk forming on his face as he raised his sword.

“Ou!”

Josel focused his energy into his abdomen and let out a shout. A tremendous wind swirled around Night Killer, pushing the leader’s body back.

The leader had misjudged the nature of Night Killer. It wasn’t just a sword that avoided arrows; it was a magic sword that stirred up the wind.

With his sword raised, the leader’s posture was vulnerable as he stumbled backward.

Josel bounced off the tree with his back, slashing the leader diagonally. The leader fell backwards, spreading blood, still wearing an incredulous expression.

Josel struggled to maintain consciousness, approaching the leader and kicking away his sword. He couldn’t afford a counterattack with his last bit of strength.

“If you have any last words, speak them.”

“…Nothing in particular.”

“To that family, to that old man! Can’t you offer a single apology to the people you’ve killed in your selfish desires!?”

Josel’s angry voice echoed through the silent forest. The leader gazed at Josel with eyes like glass marbles for a moment, then smiled thinly and said, “Go to hell.”

The moment he heard those words, Josel was overcome by an inexplicable rage and kicked the leader’s head.

The iron-plated boots easily crushed the skull, and the leader died instantly.

They might have had their reasons, and Josel couldn’t even imagine willingly joining the bandits. But even if there was room for sympathy for them, Josel wouldn’t allow the bandit leader a warrior’s death.

“You can hate me. I won’t stop either.”

As he attempted to behead the leader, he realized he couldn’t take back half a crushed head. Reflecting on his actions driven by rage, Josel took the sheath from the leader’s waist, picked up the sword, and put it away.

…Would this be enough evidence of defeating the bandits? He would return it to that old man.

Turning his back on the three bodies, Josel walked away.

Without looking back, he continued on his path.

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