As the four crept into the inner perimeter of the village, they finally pieced together what was happening. A band of over a dozen bandits had raided Sheep Horn, smashing villagers' doors with maces and looting house by house.
Though outnumbered, the bandits were well-trained and skilled in combat. Sheep Horn had few able-bodied men to begin with, making it impossible to muster an effective defense. The village was lit up with torches, cries of anguish echoing through the night, wails rising from every corner.
"Should we come up with a battle plan?" Sean whispered from the shadows of a thatched sheep shed, addressing the other three hiding there. Before he could finish, EeDechi unslung her giant sword, her lithe figure leaping out like a nightsaber.
In her haste, she misjudged the height and slammed her forehead into the shed's roof beam, snapping the bowl-thick timber clean in two.
The shed teetered on the brink of collapse, showering Barrett, Sean, and Stella with clumps of thatch. They shook off the debris and charged out after their captain.
…
About fifteen minutes later, the fight was over.
The battle was utterly unremarkable, the most lackluster skirmish Barrett had ever experienced. Even the most gifted bards, with their flair for spinning tales of lizardmen clashes into dragon-slaying epics, would struggle to find anything noteworthy about this village rescue.
The fight could be summed up like this: EeDechi swung her giant sword like a badminton racket, swatting aside the fearless, battle-hardened bandits—weapons and all—sending them flying. Barrett, Sean, and Stella followed close behind, tying up the ones lucky enough to survive her onslaught with sturdy ropes.
In total, fourteen bandits were dealt with. Five, including their leader, lay dead. The remaining nine, battered to varying degrees, were trussed up like wriggling worms with coarse rope, sprawled haphazardly across a flat clearing in the village center.
Barrett interrogated a few of the still-conscious bandits and discovered that among this unlucky group were six adventurers who had joined temporarily. He couldn't help but feel a bit relieved, thankful that he hadn't encountered someone as terrifying as EeDeChi during his stint as a part-time bandit years ago.
Sean grabbed a torch and piled some pine logs in the village center, sparking a bonfire that lit up the surroundings. From the nearby houses, a few villagers peeked out, trembling, their eyes darting between the bandits trussed up like mummies on the ground and the four adventurers by the fire.
Barrett strolled among the bound bandits, occasionally slipping a hand into their pockets to rummage around. His eyes caught something—a guy with pointed ears. Leaning closer, he realized it was a young half-elf adventurer.
Half-elves, born from haughty elves and humans, always had those telltale pointed ears. Thanks to their elven blood, this one had a sharp nose and handsome features. Barrett couldn't fathom why someone like him would stoop to banditry.
A spark of an idea hit Barrett. He tied the half-elf's hands behind his waist, loosening the ropes around his upper body. The half-elf was still lucid, his eyes wide with panic as he stared at Barrett. "What are you doing?"
Barrett crouched down, flashing a wicked grin. His rough, calloused hands seized the half-elf's jacket collar and ripped it open with a loud tear.
The half-elf's toned, bare chest was exposed before Barrett's eyes. His handsome face twisted with fear, his tightly bound legs squirming as he cried out in a trembling voice, "What… what are you going to do?"
Barrett let out a dark chuckle, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Heh, what else? The thing us adventurers love most."
EeDechi spun around, her brow furrowed in irritation. "Barrett, watch yourself! I've got no issue with guys loving guys, but this is a public place—don't go doing anything indecent!"
"Captain, where's your mind at?" Barrett said with a helpless sigh. His broad palm slipped inside the half-elf's cotton shirt, deftly searching through the folds. Soon, he pulled out a small spatial leather bag and a carved statuette of an elven druid.
Barrett had a spatial leather bag of his own—used it for years before EeDechi gifted him a spatial ring for storage.
"Figures," Barrett muttered. "Anything tied to elves usually comes with deep pockets." He rummaged through the spatial leather bag, pulling out valuable items one by one and stashing them in his spatial ring.
After emptying the bag, Barrett weighed the druid statuette in his hand. The intricately carved sandalwood, thick as three fingers, depicted a delicate tree elf druid. Barrett had adventured with real elves before; he knew the statuette held some serious magical mojo.
"You damned bandit…" the half-elf growled, his handsome face contorted with rage. "That was a gift from my mother. Take everything else, but please, leave that with me."
Barrett clapped a hand on the half-elf's shoulder. "Does your mom know you're out here playing bandit? Bet she'd be real disappointed if she knew her son was pulling this kind of crap." With that, he tossed the druid statuette up in the air, caught it, and slipped it into his spatial ring.
An old man, supported by a peasant woman, limped toward the four adventurers by the bonfire, his leg clearly injured from a beating.
His bald head gleamed under the firelight, a few wispy white hairs fluttering in the breeze. This was the village elder, his eyes downcast, head drooping, all the bravado he'd shown when shooing them out of Sheep Horn at dusk long gone.
The elder hobbled up to Barrett, and with the woman's help, he bowed deeply to the four adventurers, his voice choking with apologies. "I'm so sorry… we didn't know you were such great heroes. We treated you poorly, and yet you didn't hold it against us. You saved us from those vicious bastards. I'm sorry…"
Barrett couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction watching the greedy old man, who'd been so self-righteous just days ago, now wiping tears as he groveled. But seeing the elder's pitiful state—especially the way he shuffled, wincing from his injured leg—stirred a bit of pity in him.
EeDeChi advanced and took the chief's hands in hers, stating with utmost sincerity, "Respected elder, please do not be distressed. This is our obligation. Should you encounter any further difficulties, please communicate them to us. We, the Last Defender of the Way adventuring team, are committed to serving the community. It is imperative to uphold a positive, optimistic, and determined approach to life and to reinforce our resolve to surmount challenges. We are confident that, with the support and assistance of my team, Sheep Horn will successfully navigate its current difficulties and emerge from its trials."
Tears streaked the elder's cloudy yellow eyes, his grateful look tinged with confusion. He was a bit lost by EeDechi's words but nodded along, mumbling "Mhm, mhm" as she shook his hand.
Subsequently, EeDeChi offered a formal greeting to the village chief and the villagers, delivering a speech that was both inspiring and motivational. The families of Sheep Horn, having received aid and comfort, were profoundly moved. They expressed deep appreciation for EeDeChi's warmth and support, reaffirmed their confidence in their future endeavors, and committed to overcoming challenges with renewed determination, extending their heartfelt thanks for her concern and assistance.
Once the captain's passionate speech finally wound down, Barrett pulled the elder aside, seizing the moment to voice a nagging question. "Your village is pretty big. How come there are so few strong, young folks around?"
The elder's eyes, recently dried of tears, welled up again. He sank onto a wooden stump, wiping his eyes and letting out a heavy sigh.
"Sheep Horn's close to a military outpost up north. Every spring, the lord comes to draft young men for mandatory service—soldiering offsets taxes. Skip out, and you get hit with extra taxes. Usually, by autumn, most of the lads come back. It's been like that for years. Some return missing an arm or a leg, but most make it home. Until a few years ago…"
The old man choked up, tears streaming down his wrinkled, weathered face, carving paths through deep creases.
"A few years back, the village boys were drafted as usual, but none of them came back. A year passed, then two—no one returned! The nobles said they were all killed by some mage named 'Ainz Ooal Gown.' Not just our boys—tens of thousands, they say, slaughtered! My son was among them.
"The lord gave each family two silver coins as 'compensation.' I don't know if the nobles are telling the truth. Is there really a mage like that out there? I don't know. All I know is our boys, our sons, our husbands—they never came back…"
The elder's frail frame shook, his grimy sleeve swiping at his eyes as he sobbed. The peasant woman beside him steadied his shoulder, her face etched with shared grief.
EeDechi's warm, comforting smile faded, her face darkening with a heavy, somber expression. Barrett finally understood why a village elder would personally travel to a neighboring town's market to sell herbs, insisting on sky-high prices. Only enough coin could keep a village, stripped of its young workforce, from crumbling into ruin.
A single, unprecedented Super-Tier spell wiping out over a hundred thousand kingdom soldiers—EeDechi recalled the chilling rumor about Ainz Ooal Gown, so fantastical it sounded like pure nonsense. It wasn't until she reached Re-Estize that she confirmed its grim truth.
A hundred thousand wasn't just a number; it was sons, kin, and husbands from countless families. Behind that history-shattering magic lay a trail of broken homes. How much blood had the Sorcerer Kingdom spilled to cement its iron grip on power?
Barrett clenched his fists, glancing at EeDechi. Her eyes burned with rage, sorrow, and disgust, like glaciers frozen solid, almost tangible.
After a long silence, the elder's tear-streaked eyes finally dried. He turned to EeDechi, his voice meek. "I have a small request, if you heroes might indulge me?"
"No problem, name it."
"South of Sheep Horn, in the mountains, there's a band of goblins. They raid the village at night, wreck our crops, even kidnap lone women and kids. We don't have enough hands to deal with them.
"We posted a job at the nearby city's Adventurer's Guild, but our reward's too meager to attract high-tier adventurers. The task's never been properly handled. I'm hoping you heroes could take out some of those goblins—or, better yet, rescue anyone they've taken."
The old man dropped to his knees. EeDechi quickly pulled him up. "No need for that, elder. We don't go for that kind of thing. Those goblins? We'll wipe them out."
The elder showered the four adventurers with gratitude, overjoyed by their agreement. The villagers cleared out four spacious rooms in the wealthiest home, setting up four large beds.
Stella brought the twin sisters from their camp outside the village, and the six members of the Last Defender of the Way sank into soft wool pillows and warm quilts, catching the rest of the night's sleep.