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A Weakling Who Died a Million Times - Chapter 5.2
🕑 Added 2024-11-15 07:16:27 +0000 UTCYear 133_Keireki Era_Fall/02
Reading books and letters to relay messages is his job.
In this area, where literacy rates aren't particularly high, it's a job that promises quite a good income.
I can understand why it's paid daily.
Apparently, Boss was also convinced and felt relieved.
After finishing preparing the tea, I brought it inside.
He thanked me as he drank the offered “Hey~Grass water.”
Hmm?
Something feels off right now.
I think he drank it, but what is it?
“Oh, Imuze, huh? If that's the case, you must have confused west and east along the way.”
Yes, this is a lie.
The bandits disguise the signboards, you see.
We do it on a regular basis.
Every other day, we either revert them or plant new signs to lure travelers to this village.
It's the attention to detail that’s the secret to welcoming customers to our village.
“You’d think I’d be careful enough, but still… how embarrassing.”
The traveler looked genuinely disappointed in himself.
“Nah, it happens all the time. But since you’re heading back now and it’s starting to get dark, why not stay the night?”
Without hesitation, Boss offered sweet words.
“Is that okay?”
“Our village’s history dictates that we treat travelers kindly.”
He laughed heartily.
That's a straight-up act, Boss!
“When you say ‘kindly,’ do you mean stabbing sleeping people and taking their belongings?”
For a moment, both Boss and I froze.
But the seasoned Boss made a quick decision.
This guy must be some kind of adventurer or something, showing up to deal with us.
Having been running scams in this village for a long time, he was already on our radar.
We, the bandits, don’t understand the workings of towns.
That’s why these kinds of ambushes causing bandits to disappear are just another “typical outcome” for us.
“Flames, dance!”
Magic was activated.
This magic resembles the “Petition” power I mentioned briefly before.
It involves chanting specific words in combination and adding a source of power to produce an effect.
Since I can’t use it, I don’t really understand it well.
Come to think of it, Lukarsi from my past life didn’t use chants.
I wonder if there are differences?
I’m curious, but I can’t verify it.
Let’s get back to the story.
Magic is more versatile compared to Petitions, but its activation is a bit more complicated.
Petitions are simpler to cast but have limited varieties.
… At least, that’s how I remember it.
If I could use it, it’d be handy.
But unfortunately, I have no talent for it.
I wonder if bandit monks or someone who had awakened their abilities could use it?
I couldn’t help but think deeply about it.
Let’s return to the situation.
Boss summoned flames, which attacked the target (tentative) as if they had their own will.
No, considering the chanting, it should be more like the flames started dancing.
Instead of dodging the flames, the traveler grabbed the shoulder of his clothing almost simultaneously as the chant ended and pulled.
As a result, his entire outfit was torn apart, transforming into a mass of fabric that fluttered like a billowing cloak, fending off the magical flames.
“Wha—My magic!?”
“As soon as it’s activated, it’s just like anything natural. There are countless ways to deal with it.”
From beneath his torn clothes, more garments appeared.
Perhaps a quick-change tactic? Layering clothes? Disguise? Whatever it was, it was definitely some kind of trick.
In one hand, he held a circular piece of metal larger than an open hand.
He wouldn’t brandish meaningless metal in a situation like this, so it must be some kind of weapon.
In response to this trickster, thinking this ending was playful, I reached for my own weapon, but—
“──Pay your tuition with your life.”
The position of his voice suddenly changed.
By the time I realized, both Boss’s and my necks had been severed.
What changed wasn’t the position of his voice.
The locations of our necks had shifted, our heads floating mid-air like bouncing balls.
How?
I couldn’t possibly comprehend that.
My remaining consciousness clung to my detached head, offering a final glimpse of this life.
All I could see was the tea.
Not a single drop had been consumed.
Ah, I finally understood the source of that strange feeling.
He had pretended to drink it.
He was at maximum caution.
I couldn’t have prepared any expensive poison, but that was just our situation.
Even if I realized it, there was nothing I could do about the difference in our power levels.
Unfortunately, my pleasant fake villager life as a bandit ended here.
Next: https://www.patreon.com/posts/116292017/
