Draco didn't pause.
The moment his sword sliced through the man's neck, he was already moving toward the next target.
This one didn't even have time to think.
Draco appeared before him in a blink. His eyes were wide, lips parted in shock. His instincts screamed at him to dodge, but it was too late.
Schlick.
The man's hand flew into the air, severed cleanly at the wrist.
"AAAAAAARGHHH!"
The scream didn't last long.
Draco's blade swept across his throat, silencing him permanently.
He didn't do it out of mercy. No. He could have gone for the throat first, but he wanted the others to hear the scream.
He wanted them to be afraid.
And it worked.
The rest of the bandits froze for a second. But rage and pride quickly overrode their fear.
"Kill him!" one of them barked.
"He's just a brat!"
"He can't keep that up forever!"
Fools.
While they charged at him, blades raised and mouths shouting, Draco's eyes calmly scanned the rest.
Two were trying to flee.
One of them, clever—or so he thought—was heading toward Rose. He probably figured he could take her as a hostage.
Draco's body blurred again.
He was already in front of the man just as his filthy hand reached out to grab Rose.
Thunk.
The man's head slid off his shoulders and hit the ground with a dull thud.
Rose flinched.
Hot blood splattered across her cheek. Her breath caught. Her vision swam.
She'd seen dead bodies before, but not like this. Not this close.
Not this bloody. Not this real.
She almost screamed. Almost cried.
But then her eyes locked on the boy in front of her.
A cloak. A mask.
Draco blurred again, flickering forward, and struck the second man clean across the back. The bandit crumpled without a sound.
Now, the rest had stopped moving.
At first, they thought it was a fluke. Just a lucky shot.
Then they assumed he was just a kid. Even with the cloak and mask, his height gave him away.
But after watching him butcher the running ones like they were made of paper, they understood.
This wasn't luck.
He was the real deal.
"Wait! We didn't do it ourselves!"
"Yeah, we were just following orders!"
"We can take you to him!"
Suddenly, they all started crying and begging like they were the victims. Pleading, shaking, trying to throw someone else under the bus as if that would save them.
But Draco didn't give a damn.
Without hesitation, he started butchering them one by one.
They thought he was here for the girl. That they could use information, names, directions, excuses—as bargaining chips for their pathetic lives.
Too bad.
Their luck was already out the moment he arrived.
Draco didn't care if they were hunting a princess, robbing a carriage, or selling stories about who ordered what.
He wasn't here for justice. Or revenge. Or Rose.
He was here for them.
And for their money.
After slicing down the last of them, Draco finally paused. He calmly wiped his slime sword, letting the final body hit the dirt with a soft thud.
"Beautiful."
The word slipped out from behind him.
Draco's eyes immediately snapped toward the voice.
Rose clamped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, frozen in place as he stared at her.
It was instinct. Reflex.
Back in her kingdom, art was everything. From birth, she'd been taught to admire beauty, grace, creativity. Violence was treated like a disease. Crude. Shameful. Uncivilized.
But what she just witnessed?
The way he moved. The way he killed—so smooth, so precise, so effortless—it looked like… art.
To her, in that strange, terrifying moment, it really did look beautiful.
"You should leave," Draco muttered, snorting lightly as he rummaged through the corpses' pockets. Looting was part of the job, and he had no interest in getting interrupted.
"Y-Yes!" Rose snapped out of her trance, jolted by the reminder. She understood this was her chance to escape. Another group of kidnappers could show up at any moment, and she wasn't about to press her luck.
She turned quickly, ready to head back toward the city…
Then stopped.
Her expression faltered. Conflicted. Hesitant.
Draco noticed. His eyes narrowed. "What now?"
Rose shifted on her feet, hands clasped in front of her nervously. "U-Um… ano… w-who are you?"
Her voice was timid, cautious. She didn't want to anger him, but she couldn't just walk away without knowing. Not after what she saw.
Draco's lips curled into a subtle smirk beneath the mask.
Yes. That's the chance I was waiting for. Aura farming moment.
"I am—"
"Stylish Bandit Slayer!" someone shouted.
Draco froze mid-sentence.
…Huh?
He turned his head sharply toward the sound. A small group of guards was approaching, clad in mismatched armour and holding crude spears. One of them looked genuinely excited.
That name... Right.
Of course, that name.
Draco sighed internally as the memory caught up with him.
Yeah, it's not wrong. That's the name I've been using for the past few months while cleaning up bandits.
Not all of his hunts were stealthy assassinations. Sometimes he stumbled upon ambushes in progress—bandits surrounding merchant carts, travellers, or even low-level adventurers. So naturally, his flashy entrances left an impression.
And then there was the name.
Why did he pick that name?
Well, first off, it sounded cool.
Yes, Cid used it in that anime, but that doesn't mean he owns it. Besides, Draco thought it would be funny to use it as bait—to see if Cid would show up or somehow react to it.
So far? Nothing. No shadowy figures stalking him. No edgy monologues from across rooftops.
Nothing at all.
Looks like it's time to leave.
The moment that thought clicked into place, Draco didn't hesitate. His instincts screamed louder than his ego. He backed off immediately, hands already moving.
He didn't sense any professionals nearby, no one strong enough to threaten him. But that didn't mean it was safe. He had made enough noise. Flashy kills, a dramatic title, witnesses.
Yeah. That was enough attention for the day.
He exhaled sharply, focusing everything into his feet.
And then—Soru.
With total concentration, Draco vanished, leaving behind a gust of wind, drifting dust, and a few stunned, wide-eyed guards.
"Princess! You're hurt!" one of them shouted, panicking as they saw the blood staining her cheek.
Rose blinked, then quickly shook her head. "It's not mine," she assured them.
But the soldiers didn't relax. Some immediately fanned out, weapons raised, scouting for any lingering threats. Others surrounded her protectively, already urging her to head back toward the city gates.
She let them lead her, casting one final glance over her shoulder.
The field was now eerily silent. Just scattered corpses, dark stains in the grass, and guards combing through what remained.
She bit her lip, fingers brushing the faint warmth still lingering on her cheek.
"Stylish Bandit Slayer…" she whispered to herself.
"We'll meet again."
**********
Techniques/abilities Cid made