Anagin Chronicles

Chapter 131

You crazy bastard.When Anagin summoned [Longbald] and swung it, everyone around burst into admiration.

“You #$%#^%&@^!!!”

At a glance, it sounded like a curse, but that must have been a misunderstanding.

Words, after all, can take on different meanings depending on the situation. Even praise can become an insult, and even an insult can become praise.

The reason Anagin thought so was because things had gone well.

When he infused Energy(Γι) into Longbald and brought it down, just like when he fought Hippomenes, the surrounding terrain was completely shattered.

With the point where Longbald struck as the center, Energy(Γι) exploded, tearing apart the surrounding floor and walls into pieces.

The endlessly stretching corridor was blown far away, the walls collapsed, and the ground caved in.

In an instant, Anagin and his group were left suspended in midair.

Even in the midst of that, Anagin spotted a group of bandits hiding between the collapsing structures.

Every single one of them looked flustered.

Then he found the village chief under the protection of his subordinates, and Anagin immediately hurled Longbald.

“Kuaaahhhh—!”

The moment Longbald left Anagin’s hand, the village chief’s arm was torn off, and a scream rang out.

Just like when he had guided them while rubbing his hands together obsequiously, that unpleasant voice echoed loudly.

Using the falling debris of the collapsing building as footholds, Anagin closed the distance and grabbed the village chief by the neck.

“Ghk—!”

The village chief, who had been screaming, let out a choking sound the moment his neck was seized and struggled desperately.

But only for a moment. As soon as Anagin applied a bit of force, he quickly went still.

Seeing their leader subdued in an instant without being able to do anything, the bandits froze on the spot, and toward them, Anagin delivered a short and simple message.

“Drop your weapons. If you don’t want to die.”

* * *

The suppression was over in an instant.

Perhaps because they were the type to lull guests into a sense of security, drive them into traps, and then ambush them using magical tools, they were unable to respond properly to an unexpected situation.

The moment Anagin smashed the building with Longbald, they all showed flustered expressions, and when even their leader (the village chief) had his neck seized, they went, “Uh? Uh?” in confusion before surrendering altogether.

The seemingly naive village youths, the kind-looking middle-aged men, the harmless-looking women and children, even the elderly—everyone dropped the daggers they had been holding.

Ah, of course, as befitting a band of brigands, a few of them resisted, but when Thyreos swung his hammer and cracked their heads, they quickly quieted down.

“All of you, kneel and place both hands behind your heads.”

“Anyone who tries anything dies.”

Tramachus and Thyreos gathered the village bandits and kept watch over them, while Lynceus monitored the surroundings in case of any surprise attacks. Following Anagin’s orders, Sanchonius collected the bandits’ belongings.

“I’ve gathered all the items from the roaming village bandits.”

Sanchonius had skillfully secured the items on his own.

Anagin examined the items Sanchonius had brought.

The daggers they had discarded as ordered, personal interspatial magical tools, and various other magical items—true to their nature as bandits, they possessed quite a number of valuable things.

“It seems all these daggers are magical tools imbued with poison magic. And quite potent at that…”

“It certainly looks that way.”

Anagin looked at the daggers, their blades coated with poison like a serpent’s fangs.

They appeared transparent at first glance, but the faint green glow gave the clear impression: once this gets inside your body, you’re done for.

Well, having endured far stronger poisons from his master, it didn’t matter much to Anagin, but separately from that, he could tell just how accustomed this village bandit group was to robbery.

Using spatial-type magical tools, they would isolate their target and trap them within terrain (inside buildings), drain their stamina, make them anxious, and create openings. Then, at that very moment, a surprise attack with poisoned daggers.

They didn’t even need to win outright. A single scratch from the dagger would be enough.

In a sense, it was a method perfectly suited to the profession of banditry.

As if reading Anagin’s thoughts, Sanchonius explained about the village bandit group.

“The combat strength of the village bandits themselves isn’t particularly noteworthy, but aside from that, they’re evaluated as vicious and deadly. Like a pack of wild dogs with venomous fangs.”

“Oh, really? You’re more impressive than I thought.”

Anagin said this while looking at the village chief sitting apart from the others.

For reference, the village chief was bound to a piece of the building debris that Anagin had embedded into the ground.

“N-no, we’re not that—”

“—not that impressive?”

As the village chief stammered nervously, sweating coldly unlike before, Anagin finished his sentence for him. Well, having lost an arm after being struck by Longbald, it made sense he’d be sweating.

“Y-yes.”

If anything, the village chief deserved praise.

Despite his old age and losing an arm while committing robbery, he was desperately answering, trying to survive no matter what. That survival instinct alone was commendable.

Or rather, was it only natural? To still be committing banditry at that age, he couldn’t have been entirely sane to begin with.

Well, whatever. Anagin continued the conversation.

“I think so too. What’s impressive isn’t you—it’s the magical tool that created a village in an instant.”

Anagin looked around the empty clearing where the village had been.

The many buildings that had definitely been there during the day had vanished as if it were a lie.

Anagin guessed it was related to a magical tool.

“Where is it?”

“Pardon?”

Crunch—!

The moment the village chief widened his eyes in confusion, Anagin lifted his foot and stomped down on one of his legs.

Without any warning.

“Aaaargh—!”

Having already lost an arm, the village chief screamed with all his might through his aged vocal cords as his leg was broken as well.

But Anagin didn’t care in the slightest. If he was going to be a bandit, he should have been prepared for this much. If not, then he was just a fool.

“Don’t play dumb or try to get clever. Where is the magical tool?”

The village chief screamed as if he were about to faint, yet with his only remaining hand, he frantically pointed somewhere.

A wise decision.

If he had pretended not to know again, Anagin had been planning to crush his remaining leg as well.

“That thing?”

Anagin pointed at an old wooden box and asked, and the village chief nodded weakly with his head lowered.

Anagin walked up to the wooden box and examined it closely.

An old, worn box—something you could find anywhere.

However, there was a strange aura about it. Maybe it was just his imagination.

“Hey, you. Open the box.”

Anagin called over one of the kneeling bandits at random and ordered him to open the box. Just in case there was something inside.

“M-me?”

“Don't make me say it twice. Do you want your leg broken too?”

When the man hesitated, Anagin pointed at the village chief as he asked, implying whether he had a hobby of getting his legs broken.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to have such a hobby, and the bandit quickly crawled over on all fours and opened the box.

“Hooh…?”

Looking inside, Anagin let out a sound of admiration and curiosity.

Inside the box were countless miniature buildings, like toys, stacked layer upon layer along the walls and floor. Most of them were shabby houses and storage sheds one might see in the countryside, and most were broken.

“Th-that’s… the Village Storage Box.”

As Anagin showed interest, the bandit who opened the box stammered out an explanation.

It had been a while since he heard the sound of someone scheming. The man seemed to have some intention, but Anagin decided to play along for now.

“That's the name of the magical tool?”

“Y-yes…”

“You’re cooperating more easily than I expected. You must want something, huh?”

He could roughly guess.

Just from the wealth Sanchonius had taken out of the Interspatial Bag, it was obvious. They must have been diligent in their robberies, given the accumulated riches alone were enormous.

The fight was already decided. They were likely trying to curry favor to at least preserve their lives and wealth.

“Well—”

“—We’ll hear that later. Explain the item first.”

Anagin abruptly changed the direction of the conversation. The more impatient they became, the better they would cooperate. And besides, he simply didn’t feel like letting them have their way.

As expected, the bandit showed a frustrated, anxious expression, but quickly managed it under Anagin’s gaze.

“Th-the Village Storage Box is a magical tool that allows you to store and use buildings.”

Village Storage Box.

According to the bandit, it was a magical tool that could consume ownerless buildings and make them usable.

You could take out stored buildings onto an empty clearing to create a village, or even combine or modify the consumed buildings to create entirely new ones.

The village chief’s house, where Anagin’s group had stayed, was one such example.

Even at a glance, the functions were convenient and remarkable. However, it wasn’t without cost.

“…However, once a house is taken out and used, it cannot be stored or used again.”

The number of times buildings could be consumed was limited to one use each. In other words, new buildings had to be replenished regularly. Naturally, this raised a question.

“Wow, even using it once must cost quite a bit. There were quite a few buildings from what I saw.”

He wasn’t saying it for nothing.

This clearing, while not very large, had gathered enough structures to be called a village.

Though small and shabby, there were quite a number of houses and sheds. And considering the scale of the village chief’s house when it was transformed, it added up to at least dozens of buildings used.

But where would you easily find dozens of empty houses? Unless you built them. Ownerless houses, at that.

It seemed the name “village bandits” didn’t just mean they disguised themselves as a village to commit robberies. It also meant they robbed entire villages themselves.

“…Well, not that it’s any of my concern.”

“Hehe, it seems you like this magical tool. If you want—”

Thud!

Just as the bandit began to grin and speak ingratiatingly, Anagin lightly kicked him in the face.

Not enough to injure him, just enough to tell him to shut up.

“Don’t move the conversation along on your own… So, find anything?”

Anagin asked Sanchonius, who was rummaging through the bandits’ belongings.

By now, he was hoping something interesting had turned up, and fortunately, it had.

“Yes, I found something. But…”

“That reaction’s a bit vague. What is it?”

Instead of answering, Sanchonius showed him.

What he had found in the bandits’ interspatial magical tool, which stored countless plundered goods, was none other than Freedom’s Thread.

A magical tool that allowed multiple people to share information.

Seeing it in the hands of bandits felt oddly out of place, yet at the same time, it seemed like something that could be quite useful depending on how it was used.

After all, they could use Freedom’s Thread to identify travelers carrying valuable items.

“Hey, did you find us using that?”

Anagin asked, and the bandit quickly nodded.

“Y-yes…!”

“What’s the username?”

“Cautious Collector.”

Perhaps because he had already been kicked once, the bandit answered immediately without pretending not to understand.

“Huh, that’s interesting.”

Anagin spoke honestly, without exaggeration.

He had seen that name once on Freedom’s Thread.

[└Cautious Collector: Isn’t this suspicious? Why would someone just share that kind of information?]

That was the kind of post he had made. It wasn’t quite right to call him someone he knew, but still, it felt strangely coincidental.

Someone had posted information about the Coins of Greed, and he had been the one to question it first, only to be the first to launch an attack… It was a bit amusing in a way.

“Brother.”

At that moment, Sphinx called out to Anagin.

“What? I’m busy.”

“I know, but look at this.”

Coincidentally, Sphinx was also holding out a Freedom’s Thread.

Given her personality, she wouldn’t call him over for something trivial.

Anagin approached and asked what it was.

“Someone contacted us. It’s Magno.”

Magno was an organization of mages.

Sphinx showed Anagin the Freedom’s Thread she was holding.

[Conversation]

[Witch of Dust: Hello, Practitioner Killer.]

Letters appeared on the worn scroll.

While everyone fell silent at a situation too coincidental to be an accident.

Anagin spoke seriously.

“Tell them I’m Miscellaneous Doll Neiron.”