Before they set out again, Zetto cast protective spells on all three wagons. Now each vehicle was wrapped in strong, invisible barriers.
They passed through Heren – a small, quiet village – relatively peacefully, except for an ambush by a small group of slavers, whom Zetto wiped out with a single spell. He didn't have time to waste on small fry. The village itself had no slaves, just poor farmers. Zetto asked around if anyone knew where the largest slave markets nearby were, but the villagers couldn't tell him anything.
After a day and a half of uneventful travel, they stopped and set up another camp on a meadow near the forest. They sat quietly around the fire in silence. No songs, no guitar. Tiriga's children, sensing danger, weren't playing, instead, they whispered among themselves.
The ears of Tirig's people – and Maghra's – twitched slightly.
"Someone's running this way," Tae announced.
"I'll go check it out," Zetto replied.
"Wait, let me come too," said Meime. She went over to their wagon, rummaged around, and pulled out a pair of brass knuckles. "Let old Auntie Meime prove she's still useful," she added with a grin. "The rest of you, protect the kids."
Zetto nodded, and the two of them set off. Guided by sound, Meime led them toward the noise.
Just as they were about to enter the forest, one of the Vari – a woman in a ripped maid outfit with wavy blonde hair, ears of the same color, and a dog's tail – rushed toward Zetto. She almost ran into Zetto, but luckily he saw her in time, and she didn't knock him down.
"Please, good sir, help!" she cried, glancing back in terror. Up close, Zetto saw her outfit was shredded around her thighs and chest. Deep whip marks cut across her back, arms, and legs. "I escaped with my friend, but she… they caught her…" she sobbed.
"Zetto," Meime said, her voice full of fear, "they're chasing her. A bigger group. From the sound of it – twenty-something men."
"Take her back to camp, now," Zetto ordered, his tone sharp and commanding.
"Zetto, I saw what you can do earlier, but… can you really handle it alone?" she asked, worried.
"Do as I say," he replied, locking eyes with her.
Meime had seen that look in people before. The kind of look that showed unbroken determination, willpower, and a growing rage. She nodded at him. To speed things up, Meime picked up the badly injured Vari, something the dog-girl hadn't fully expected.
Time to play the bad guy again, huh? Zetto thought. No… that's not it. I'm no longer a hero… though that doesn't excuse me from doing what's right.
Lately, everything's starting to blur. I don't even know where to draw the line anymore. The boundaries keeps fading…
First to step out from the group was an ugly, short rogue. He sneered at Zetto.
"Heh, well, well, looks like we've got ourselves a cute little boy," the thief sneered. "Don't worry – we'll make good use of you."
"Back off while you still can," Zetto said, letting out a sharp huff. "This is your last warning."
The thief vanished, melting away like a shadow. At the same time, four assassins attacked Zetto from all sides.
"Well, I see you've made your choice," he replied, emotionless.
The assassins froze mid-air, caught in the blink of an instant.
"What the–?!" one of them shouted.
"Who the fuck are you?" the other one yelled in shock.
Zetto just smiled – a cold, empty smile devoid of any emotion. He reached out toward one of the paralyzed assassins.
I should do this as effectively as possible. Ugh, I hate doing this, but I'm not naive enough to believe everything can be solved peacefully.
He pressed his hand against the torso of one of the enemies. The body burst from the inside, spraying blood across the others. Three other tugs immediately started screaming and begging for mercy.
Zetto heard heavier foot soldiers approaching from the forest.
Completely unmoved, showing no emotion, he killed the other three in the same way.
The remaining dozen or so bandits, along with their chief – a tall, bald man in his forties, his bare, muscular torso covered in scars – froze in shock.
I've already forgotten that I'm covered in guts and blood.
I must look like a total psycho…
"You bastard!" the leader shouted. "Do you even know that laying a hand on Lord Kahima's men is the highest crime anyone can commit?!"
"And what are you planning to do? Want to end up like those other bastards?" he replied, grimacing in pain once again.
That feeling in my stomach…
No, I can't let my hatred take over. Control your anger. Control your anger, Zetto
These bastards… a whole gang of monsters, led by an even worse piece of shit. They tortured, murdered, raped beast-people, kidnapped them, sold them… and the king supported them, involved in their dirty business.
I can't hold back… ever since I got close to Tae, it feels like this hits me personally.
If any of them hurt my Tae…
…I wouldn't forgive them.
"Do you really think you can handle us, kid? Sure, you managed four assassins, but I've got a whole squad with me…"
Zetto raised an open hand toward the sky. His cloak fluttered in the wind. He thought of an area spell that could finish off several targets at once without destroying the forest. From his hand shot a small, black beam of energy, diving straight into the treetops.
"Not anymore," he replied with an ironic smile.
"You think some cheap trick – what the hell?!" The leader's eyes widened as a pool of blood began forming beneath his feet. He looked around in panic at where his men had been. Each of them lay dead, as if their life had been sucked out, and blood slowly dripped from their dried- out corpses.
"I won't forgive you–" the leader activated a spell that turned his torso to stone, then charged at Zetto, screaming in rage.
The Messenger appeared in front of him in an instant, grabbing his face and slamming him into the ground with brutal force. The impact was strong enough to carve a crater. The head of the bandits bounced off the hard earth on his back, spitting blood. He stared at Zetto in disbelief, fear, and hatred, teeth clenched.
The Messenger sat at the edge of the crater. The leader tried to lift one of his arms, but it was crushed into a pulp. The bald man screamed at the top of his lungs.
"Don't even try. When I threw you into the ground, I simultaneously created a force field. One sudden move and every part of your body will be crushed, just like your hand a moment ago. But at the same time, the force field is keeping you alive, so even if all that's left of you is a talking head, you'll still feel every bit of agony. Now, if you want to suffer a little less, you'll answer my questions."
"I'll do anything, just spare me!"
"First question: how many slaves are there now in Sain and Kahima's other lands?"
"Hard to say. About ten at the main market, one to five at each of four smaller ones. There are also a few… rare ones that Lord Kahima keeps in his mansion. Demer and Karai aren't worth checking – they're shitholes like Heren. Kahima just takes whatever he wants from the locals."
"How do I know you're not lying?"
"I'm telling the truth! I swear on my life! Kahima needed three villages to station his mercenary squads and have people to profit from. The whole slave business is all about Sain!"
"How many beast-people have you killed?"
"Who the hell would count? You actually care about the fate of these pests? They're parasites breeding like vermin that need to be shown their damn place! "
"I see," Zetto said in a heavy, low voice. His hatred and fury gave way to sorrow. "Last thing I need to know," he continued, his tone still cold, "do you know who Dayun is?"
"What kind of stupid question is that, damn it? He's some dumb god of those tiger people. Every time we killed them – or used them however we felt like – they'd scream like they were possessed, saying Dayun would come and punish us. Stupid women, no one like that exists," he said, laughing.
Zetto stood up.
"Is this childish questioning over? Then let me go, you bastard! Hear me?!"
"Did I ever promise you that?" Zetto said, stepping closer and raising his hand toward the bald man. "Tell your friends in hell that you all died at Dayun's hand."
"Impossible! No one like that exists! You're not a god, you're just a man, you…"
"You're right," Zetto said with a faint smile. "But let me enlighten you before you die. Dayun is someone who avenges the suffering of others. Tiriga and the other beast-people are very important to me. After all, I've fallen in love with one of them. Every time I think about the possibility of you hurting her the way you hurt others, it makes me want to vomit. I want to rip each of you open slowly, calmly, making you soil yourselves in pain and suffer twice as much as your victims. Consider yourself lucky I don't have the time to torture you. Otherwise, I wouldn't have missed the chance." A red, magical energy gathered around his hand.
"Wait! I can fix this, really, I…"
He didn't finish. The rest of his body was torn to pieces. Not even blood remained.
Zetto sighed.
For someone like that, there's no redemption.
Why did I tell him all those things? I wasn't enjoying killing him or tormenting him, and yet I still felt a twisted satisfaction. Satisfaction from what? Maybe because I'm convinced I'm doing this for Tae, Maghra, and the other beast-people, and that I'm finally on the right side by my own choice.
I feel like I'm starting to lose touch with myself. Something inside me is changing…
…and I don't want to stop it.
With a simple spell, Zetto cleaned his clothes and then returned to the camp.