Bab 16: Ryan's Wrath
Ryan and Tory approached the town. Usually, at this time of evening, the town would be filled with the smoke of cooking fires curling from chimneys. But tonight, the only light came from the tavern. The once-magnificent wooden castle had been reduced to rubble. Under the snow, it appeared as a massive, irregular mound, with the occasional charred beam poking out, hinting at its former grandeur. The door of the general store had been smashed, leaving the interior in darkness. The former male shopkeeper lay sprawled in the doorway, his lifeless form surrounded by crimson stains. Beside him was a child, presumably his own, whose small body appeared ghostly pale under the snow's glow. The child's head was only half intact.
Farther ahead, several homes shared a similar fate. Doors had been broken down, and disheveled interiors told stories of chaos. Naked men lay in twisted poses inside, their blood staining the walls in ghastly purple-black smears. The air reeked of violence and despair.
Ryan's face turned ashen. Though he had anticipated devastation, witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely. A quick inspection confirmed his worst fears: the dead were all men and elderly women. The young women and girls were conspicuously absent. It was all too obvious what had happened to them.
"Acts of God may be forgiven, but acts of men are beyond pardon!" Ryan muttered as he slowly made his way to the tavern. From inside came the crude laughter of bandits and the shrill screams of women. His face hardened as memories of the war decades ago flashed through his mind. In that war, massacres had claimed tens of millions of lives. For a nation of only 400 million, such losses had been cataclysmic. Images of mass graves, child-sized skeletons, and grinning skulls flooded Ryan's thoughts, his mind boiling with rage. Yet, his steps remained firm and measured.
"Tory, stay outside and guard the entrance. I'll deal with the ones inside myself." Ryan's voice was distant, as though it came from the heavens, yet it brooked no argument.
Tory shivered at Ryan's words. They felt like icy daggers piercing his very soul. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it, bowing silently instead. He stood guard outside, knowing one thing for certain: the bandits inside were about to face the full fury of a mage's wrath.
Through the tavern's slightly ajar door, Ryan could see everything. Large tallow candles illuminated the room, casting a bright glow over about thirty bandits. They were feasting on massive slabs of meat and drinking from oversized mugs of ale. A roaring fire burned in the hearth, filling the space with an unnatural warmth. Around them, a dozen naked women huddled—some in their thirties, others barely in their teens. Bruises mottled their bodies in hues of blue and purple. The women flinched at every touch, eliciting shrieks that only made the bandits laugh harder.
"Haha! Once we sell these women, we'll make another fortune. The bosses sure have it good—probably having a heart-to-heart with that noblewoman right now!" one bandit laughed, groping a woman in her twenties as he took a large swig of ale.
A short, stocky bandit holding a teenage girl chimed in with a lecherous grin. "A heart-to-heart, huh? More like a roll in the hay! A noblewoman, even if she's just a knight, is still a noble. Not something you see every day!"
"Haha! Hey, boys, after we're done eating and drinking, how about we get some rest? Haha, haha!" another shouted, raising his mug.
Bang! The tavern door swung open, and a gust of icy wind swept in. A voice, cold as death, cut through the revelry. "I've come to send you all to hell for your rest."
The bandits shoved the women aside, scrambling for their weapons. All eyes turned to the doorway, where a lone, slender figure stood.
"Haha, haha! Where'd this little greenhorn come from? Hey, Big Guy, isn't this your favorite type?—Ahhhh!" The bandit's laughter died in his throat as he saw his own arm fall to the floor, severed cleanly from his body. It took him a moment to process the sight before a scream of agony finally erupted.
As Ryan reached the tavern door and saw the women inside, his mind cleared. He realized that his mission wasn't just to kill—it was also to save. Deciding to deceive the bandits initially, he entered cautiously. Yet, to his surprise, these thugs seemed to make things easier for him. They all stood up, shoving the women into a corner without a second thought. Ryan found it unbelievable; didn't these criminals know how to use hostages?
"Kill him! Kill him!" the bandits roared, charging at Ryan in overwhelming numbers. This time, Ryan forwent his usual fireball spells and instead unleashed a barrage of Wind Blades. Most of the bandits were half-dressed, some still without pants—a perfect setup for the sharp, penetrating nature of the spell. The Wind Blades sliced through limbs and torsos with ease. Arms and legs were severed, bodies crumpled to the ground, and necks were cleanly decapitated.
In less than three seconds, over twenty bandits lay on the floor. Some writhed and screamed in agony, while others were already lifeless. The remaining dozen froze in place, trembling. Weapons shook in their hands, legs quivered, and a few even soiled themselves in terror. They couldn't comprehend that this carnage had been wrought by a figure who looked no older than a boy. The once-boisterous giant of a bandit now lay on the floor, a gaping hole in his chest, one leg missing, and half his skull blown away. The short thug known for preying on young girls was decapitated; his body had taken one last step before collapsing, his head rolling away into a dark corner. As for the emaciated man infamous for abusing boys, his pained wails echoed through the cold night, the sound sharp and haunting.
"You all deserve to die. After death, hell awaits you," Ryan declared, his eyes blazing red with fury. He glared at the remaining bandits. Tory, hearing the commotion, rushed into the tavern. The sight before him made him shudder.
"Tory, take these women outside and help them get dressed. We'll bring them to Harry City with us," Ryan commanded without looking back, his tone unwavering.
"And what about these men?" Tory asked, his own eyes red with emotion. Holman, his colleague, had been killed along with his wife and son. Holman's daughter and daughter-in-law were among the women in the tavern. Though Tory had never thought much of Holman, their shared history as coworkers made the loss heavy.
"Take the women out first. I'll deal with them later." As Ryan spoke, one of the bandits lunged at the women, but before he could reach them, a fireball shot from Ryan's hand. It slammed into the bandit, leaving a hole the size of a bowl in his chest. He fell lifelessly to the floor.
Tory quickly approached the terrified women. Their clothes were behind the tavern's bar, and he helped them dress. The women trembled as they put on their garments, glancing fearfully at the remaining bandits. The bandits, meanwhile, slumped to the ground, too afraid to even look at Ryan. The earlier Wind Blades had been subtle in their bluish hue, almost invisible in the bright tavern light. But now, with Ryan's fireball spell, the bandits knew they were dealing with a mage. A few began crying loudly in despair.
Before long, the women were dressed and escorted outside.
"You should remember this: never do evil. Retribution always comes, even if delayed," Ryan said in a low voice to the remaining bandits. Then, a series of fireballs erupted. In moments, the bandits' heads were shattered. As Ryan surveyed the carnage, his stomach churned. He retched violently, though nothing came up but bitter bile.
Ryan grabbed a bowl of ale and drank deeply, hoping to numb himself. To his disappointment, the ale tasted weak, like Earth's beer. Still, the cool liquid brought him some relief. Feeling slightly better, he ascended the tavern stairs, where he found several women tied up. They had likely been reserved for the bandit leaders. Beside them was a chest of gold coins—the spoils of this raid, as well as their accumulated loot. The chest contained nearly 4,000 gold coins, weighing hundreds of pounds.
"Niuniu, time to collect the gold!" Ryan called out in his mind, trying to lift the chest several times without success.
"Where? Where?!" As soon as the words left Ryan's mouth, Niuniu appeared before him, startling him.
"Gold! Wow, so much gold! Oh, and jewelry too! We've hit the jackpot!" Niuniu exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight as she rummaged through the chest. She found not only coins but also jewels, exquisite pelts, and other valuables. With a flash, everything disappeared into her possession.
"Spatial magic?" Ryan asked tentatively, finally understanding.
Niuniu's beautiful eyes sparkled as she cheerfully replied, "Don't you know that pets can appear by their master's side? And there's also a pet space?" She wasn't being entirely truthful, though—while the pet space existed, it was also one of her hidden abilities.
"Can it hold more?" Ryan asked, pointing at the luxurious fur blankets on the bed. He missed the comfort of a soft, warm bed far too much.
Niuniu glanced at Ryan in confusion before nodding. With a wave of her tiny hand, the fur blankets disappeared. Next, she helped Ryan gather up a bundle of women's clothing into a large pack. She perched on Ryan's shoulder with a cheerful smile, and Ryan muttered under his breath, "What a little money-grubber!"
The tavern's second floor had only two small rooms, while the ground floor lacked even a cellar. After all, Alice's tavern wasn't very large, and the small town didn't demand much. Behind the bar were just two large barrels of ale.
As Ryan passed through the ground floor, his stomach churned again. Despite the nausea, he suppressed it. Niuniu, however, appeared completely unaffected. Ryan quickly realized why—the difference in species. It was akin to how humans reacted indifferently in slaughterhouses.
"Chuck, find me some tools for harnessing horses! Tory, look for two long poles—five or six meters—and some wooden planks…" Ryan barked orders after they left the town. Transporting a group of women on horseback proved laughably impractical, especially with untrained horses. So, Ryan resorted to constructing simple sledges.
With the help of Alice and Delis, Chuck and Tory managed to gather the necessary materials. By nightfall, they had built two sledges. They were lined with soft, dry hay, topped with blankets and bedding scrounged from the town. The women cried loudly as they climbed aboard. Ryan didn't dare linger; the bandits in the mountains likely had bows and, possibly, crossbows. The bodies of the women's relatives would have to be retrieved later—survival came first.
"Tory, lead up front. I'll cover the rear. Move quickly, alright?" Ryan urged as he hurriedly loaded reluctant women onto the sledges. Some had to be carried aboard, and others were even knocked unconscious by Tory. The group set out for Harry City with two sledges in tow.
The front sledge carried Tory and about a dozen women. Chuck drove the second one, with Ryan, Alice, and Delis onboard. The two women insisted on staying with Ryan. Niuniu perched on Ryan's shoulder, while the direwolf shadowed the group from a distance. The sledges, about three meters long, were made of long poles and wooden planks with a frame-like structure on top. Hay lined the surface, providing a relatively soft base for the passengers. Ryan was wedged between Alice and Delis due to the crowd, and while he felt physically cramped, his stomach churned with much greater intensity. Whenever he closed his eyes, the horrific scenes from the tavern flashed before him, making his discomfort nearly unbearable.
"Ryan, everyone feels this way their first time killing," Delis whispered softly into his ear, noticing his condition. Ryan clenched his teeth, unable to respond.
Seeing his expression, Delis hesitated, then bit her lip and grabbed Ryan's hand, pressing it to her chest. She didn't speak but leaned closer to him. Ryan, startled by her sudden move, quickly pulled his hand away.
"My hand's cold. I don't want to freeze you," Ryan stammered, genuinely concerned. Wanting to reassure her, he pulled Delis into an embrace, making sure she didn't feel rejected.
"Mm," Delis murmured, leaning against him. Ryan started to feel better after this brief distraction, though he didn't notice Alice's expression. Feeling left out, Alice also leaned in and wrapped her arms tightly around him.
Ryan, caught between the two, felt an unexpected moment of happiness. "Not bad, my charm's working overtime," he thought smugly, though he couldn't shake the grim realization that in this world, human life held little value.
The journey to the city spanned only a few dozen miles, taking the horses about an hour. As the towering 15-meter walls of Harry City came into view, Ryan understood they were near a war zone. It made sense—the Reshi Principality lay between the imperial capital's direct-controlled province and Harry Principality, which bordered the orc frontiers and Blood Fort. Blood Fort sat at the intersection of mountain ranges and plains, where orcs often raided during winter. However, after Blood Fort's construction, only sporadic incursions occurred, as the fort blocked the orcs' main path: the frozen Rom River. Blood Fort and the surrounding 16 strongholds, along with the neighboring Light Empire's Angel's Tear Fort, formed a chokehold on the 20-kilometer-wide path. This area, a small alluvial plain at the confluence of the Rom and Quinn rivers, was the only viable route through the rugged mountain terrain. The Quinn River, a natural border between the Alliance Empire and the Light and Dark Empires, originated in the Nightmare Swamp of the Beast Forest, flowing through both enemy territories. Historically, the Dark Empire once poisoned the Quinn River to attack the Light Empire but ended up killing hundreds of thousands in the Alliance Empire instead. Enraged, the Alliance deployed its elite Knight Corps and Mage Corps, capturing three major Dark Empire cities in just three days before withdrawing after receiving reparations.
"Open the gates! Open up! We've got an emergency!" Tory yelled loudly at the drawbridge over the city's moat.
"The lord has ordered that no gates open at night!" came the reply from atop the walls.
"You blind dog! I'm from the Mage Guild!" Ryan shouted furiously, casting a fireball spell as he roared.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone