Chapter 3

Aselle was having another hellish day today. He was deeply regretting not being able to resist his friends' persuasion. He wished he had even used the excuse of being sick, but it was always like this.

"Yeah! Even if you brought the money, it's okay to get hit!"

"Um, I really don't have any money!"

In return, Aselle had to watch as he was mixed among the group and witnessed the sight of a young coward being beaten up. The small child was crouched around, taking the hits as if he were a ball.

"Then, How are you going to pay for your sick mother's medicine, huh?"

"W-well, that's…!"

The reasons he was being beaten were incomprehensible. Recently, his mother's illness had worsened, and most of their expenses went towards her medication. Despite his gang's primarily orphaned background, they didn't value the coward's filial piety.

"Hey, you don't even need a mother to take care of you to live well. What are you trying to do, cling to some dying woman soon, huh?"

"Wouldn't it ease your conscience a bit if you think about the cost of raising a mother?"

Even after hearing insults he couldn't bear, the child couldn't say a word. Aselle clenched his fist and muttered.

"Fool."

It was a word said to himself, not just to the child. The reason he, who was very small and skinny, wasn't a target for the delinquents was solely due to his talent. He didn't have the courage to endure violence or bullying.

Aselle prayed. Since stopping it was impossible anyway, he just hoped the savage violence would end quickly. He hoped his name wouldn't be called.

But life doesn't usually go as planned.

"Hey, Aselle! Give this kid a taste of your magic."

Hans, who played the role of a leader, called him with a big breath. At that moment, all the delinquents stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards Aselle.

Aselle felt like a heavy stone was dropped onto his heart. He maintained a blank expression and nodded.

"Heheheek! You want a taste of his magic?!"

"Please! Not magic! Please! Just spare me!"

"Master magician! He's a magician! Please have mercy!"

The coward knelt down in a panic, holding onto Aselle's trouser leg, tears streaming down his face. Aselle closed his eyes tightly and began to chant a spell.

"Invisible Hand."

The coward's body began to rise slowly.

"No! Please stop!"

An invisible hand was gripping the coward, lifting him up. Cheers erupted from all around. His body, slowly ascending, soon reached a height where a fall would cause significant harm. However, the delinquents only goaded Aselle further.

"Heh heh, no matter how many times you see it, it's amazing. Let's hang him from a treetop!"

"Please let me down! Please! Please bring me down!"

Aselle twisted his lips. His seemingly worthless talent felt like a curse. If he had known it would come to this, he wouldn't have even jokingly bought one of those magic books that peddlers sold. If he hadn't been born in this remote village, could his talent have been used more effectively?

His hands trembled. In a moment of distraction, he felt like he might drop the coward. His magic was still feeble and unstable. Aselle let out a silent scream. "Please, someone intervene!"

"Enough, bring him down."

Out of nowhere, an unfamiliar voice intervened from behind.

"What the hell?"

"You.. you!"

The crowd fell quiet in an instant, like cold water had been poured over them. Even Hans, who wouldn't be fazed if he got hit by a stone on the road, was left speechless.

What's going on? Aselle managed to turn his head slightly to look behind him. There stood a lawless figure from Nimbuten.

Ronan spoke again.

"I said bring him down."

Aselle felt a shiver run down his spine. There was something in the dry voice that was unnerving.

Unbeknownst to him, his lips were moving as he slowly lowered the coward. Hans reached out and grabbed Aselle's shoulder.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Huh?"

"You're bringing him down because he told you to? Do you take me for a pushover?"

"Th-that's not it…"

"Raise him up again."

Aselle swallowed hard. The coward began to rise again. Seeing this, Ronan chuckled coldly. Hans, who had walked over, stopped right in front of Ronan.

"Ronan, long time no see."

"Yeah, Hans, it's been a while."

"Why are you suddenly butting in? You'd usually just stay quiet and sulk."

"The perpetually scowling face of a syphilitic yam hasn't changed. Was it this bad?"

"Hey, can't you figure out the situation? You damn idiot."

Hans, who was considerably taller, looked down at Ronan. Hans was, in reality, three years older than Ronan.

The other boys, overwhelmed by the atmosphere, stared at the two of them, holding their breath.

Originally, in Nimbuten, Ronan's position was like a natural disaster that took a hands-off attitude, almost indifferent. Those who picked fights against him were rendered helpless, but he never intervened in other disputes.

"Don't come at me with a punch like you did back in the day. Do you think you'd win again if we fought again?"

In contrast, Hans was like a stubborn bull charging at anyone. He would pick a fight even when in a good mood, and as soon as his mood turned sour, he'd throw a punch, at least when it came to those weaker than himself.

There were times when things went wrong due to his failure to properly assess the opponent's level. The most notable example was his fierce quarrel with Ronan's hideously ugly brawler three years ago."

But now things are different. A strong longsword hung from Hans' hip, a reward from a mercenary band for a mission he had taken last winter.

Swish!

Hans drew his sword. Ronan exclaimed in amazement.

"Oh, A sword?"

"What are you doing standing there gawking?"

Hans's voice was as intimidating as his stature. The delinquents quickly closed in on the two of them. Aselle couldn't move as he had to maintain the magic.

"Why don't you kneel and beg now? I'll let it slide this time."

"Do you know how to swing a blade? If you think swinging a stick is the same as swinging a staff, you're mistaken…"

Thud!

Hans swung his sword vertically. Ronan casually twisted his shoulder and evaded the attack. They had expected a mess, but surprisingly, his stance held up.

"…I was trying to turn you into a one-armed cripple, but luck was on your side."

"Yeah."

He was lucky. Ronan genuinely thought so.

Unlike his deteriorated physical strength and stamina, his situational awareness and reaction speed seemed unaffected. Of course, they would need more information on whether Hans, a mere cripple, was his equal or not.

"It's too late to beg now. If you want to leave, you'll have to part with an ear or a nostril."

Ronan didn't reply. His attention had suddenly shifted back to Aselle. The small boy, struggling to keep the coward from falling from mid-air, couldn't move due to maintaining the spell.

"Sure enough, my memory didn't fail me. That kid was a magician…"

Interpreting Ronan's silence as a sign of weakness, the other boys began to chime in.

"It had already been a couple of years. He's just now a scaredy-cat."

"Stop acting all high and mighty, and just beg already, you cripple."

Even though it was Ronan, attempting to face a real sword with a stick thicker than a bedpost was a futile endeavour. Especially since Hans had practised swordsmanship diligently every day. It wasn't intentional, but it couldn't be denied that he was a hard worker.

As the desired atmosphere was being established, Hans put more strength into his shoulder.

"If you die, your sister will think I'm cute if I look after her. Just thinking of touching her round butts…"

Shrill!

At that moment, a whistling sound echoed through the air.

Thunk! A round and broad object dropped between the two.

"Huh?"

No one saw what had happened. Only the stick Ronan had had on his shoulder was now on the ground.

Feeling a sense of discomfort, Hans averted his gaze. One of his sliced ears was now resting on the shoe.

"Huh?… Uh uh?"

Suddenly, a searing pain rushed into Hans's ear. Hans grabbed the spot where his ear used to be, his sword discarded. Blood gushed out between his fingers.

"Aaaargh! Fuck! My ear!"

"Hey."

Thud!

Ronan delivered a powerful kick to Hans's abdomen. Hans doubled over in pain, forgetting about the excruciating loss of his ear. The shock was so profound that he couldn't catch his breath properly.

"Ughhh…"

"You little orphan bastard."

He roughly grabbed Hans's hair and hoisted him up. From Ronan's now humorless lips, a venomous voice emerged.

"My sister's butt is what? What were you saying?"

"Kill him! Kill him!!"

Regaining his senses with great effort, Hans screamed while saliva and tears streamed down his face. The hesitant boys began to shout one by one and charged at Hans. Ronan grabbed Hans's face and pressed it onto the ground, muttering.

"Kids without parents always act up… I don't have them either, though."

****

"Hmm? You put him down?"

"Uh, yeah."

By the time he had finished dealing with the delinquents, Ashel had already let the coward down. Ronan muttered under his breath, his hand brushing against his pants.

"Tch, I've definitely gotten weaker. I'm exhausted from just this much."

Aselle tightly pressed his lips together.

He had gotten weaker?

The incident that had unfolded in about five minutes was embarrassing to even call a fight. The overwhelmingly one-sided violence reminded him of a crazed eagle infiltrating a chicken coop.

Under a nearby tree, the coward's old bread hat lay rolling on the ground. Ronan picked it up, dusted off the dirt, and placed it on the coward's head.

"Go home."

"I-I… um…"

"Don't worry about them getting back at you or anything. They won't have the audacity to wander around with their heads up."

Ronan raised his thumb, pointing towards the scattered delinquents behind him. All of them were treating their broken arms and legs.

"Also, take this."

Ronan took off the coward's hat again, slipped a few coins into it, and handed it back. The money came from the delinquents' pockets.

The coward, his voice trembling, said.

"T-This is too much."

"It's fine. I've already taken my share."

"Well, still…"

In his previous life, he was as uninterested as an ant's belly button, but who would have thought that this seemingly useless fellow would possess such a talent? Ronan didn't want to miss out on this unexpected stroke of luck.

Ronan's body had risen to about his own height without him realizing. Aselle was sweating profusely as he focused on his magic.

"Come to think of it, I should try this too."

Swish! Unexpectedly, Ronan drew his sword. It was the sword that had belonged to Hans, who was now rendered unable to wield a sword. Startled, Aselle tried to release the magic, but Ronan stopped him.

"No, keep it up."

It was an incomprehensible command. Ashel compiled for now. Ronan lightly ran the sword through the area where telekinesis was at work. A sensation like cutting through water flowed from his fingertips.

Simultaneously, the force that was holding Hans disappeared.

"Huh?!"

Thud.

Aselle stumbled, clutching his rear end. Ronan, who landed gracefully, let out a relieved sigh.