WeTried Translations

Translator: Dawn

Editor: Dawn

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ The Genius Knight of a Fallen Race

Chapter 3

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It Sounds Crazy, But It’s All True

Just as emptiness comes after intense lovemaking, Shan felt not excitement but hollowness when he opened his eyes after he had collapsed from exhaustion. It felt as though all the strength had drained from his body. Judging by the sunlight tickling his face through the leaves, it had already been noon.

“Ugh...”

He had never been lazy about physical labor, yet perhaps because last night’s activity had been too violent, every muscle in his body ached as though it were about to tear. Some attacks had grazed him as well, so various parts of his body also stung.

The only reason he had not been eaten overnight by wolves or monsters was probably that the village hunter regularly patrolled the forest and drove away wild beasts. Leaving behind a word of thanks that would now never be delivered, Shan staggered toward the dead bandits. Surprisingly, even when he saw spilled entrails and flies swarming, he felt no urge to vomit. But the smell was foul.

It just feels like looking at hunted animals.

Was it because he had realized that the hulking men who had terrified him just the day before were, in truth, absurdly dull and weak creatures? Or because what he had done the day before did not feel real? Even while he thought all this, his body naturally searched the corpses, stripping clothes and taking items. He did it as smoothly as when he butchered animals that the hunter had brought back.

The very first thing he took was the scabbard that matched the bandit captain’s sword, his first spoil of war. He took the leather pants from the smallest of the archers killed last night, put them on, and attached the scabbard to them. The result looked fairly decent.

Then he took a relatively short spear that looked easy to use, a dagger easy to conceal, and even the iron mace that had felt good in his hand. But that was about the extent of the meaningful gains. The clothes were all either too large or too torn to wear, and there was not a single valuable item easy to carry, such as money, jewels, or ornaments. Even the one who seemed to be the captain was the same.

Maybe they’d become poor from buying weapons, so they turned to banditry?

Privately impressed by his own sharp deduction, Shan first filled his stomach with the hard rations taken from several corpses. He shoved dried grains, meat, and bits of vegetables into his mouth. Then, he took gulps of water from a foul-smelling leather flask to swallow them.

“Phew.”

It was a meal that would be hard to call tasty even as a joke, yet it felt like food from heaven to Shan. Perhaps because he had been starving and then used up so much strength, he felt that if this had not been there, he might even have chewed on the bandits’ flesh.

He enjoyed that unfamiliar fullness only for a moment before he had to think of how to carry as many usable things as possible. He tore several pieces of clothing, knotted them together, and stuffed in comparatively intact weapons and several pieces of leather armor, making a bundle of sorts.

“Urgh.”

After walking about ten minutes with the clattering load, he finally saw the ruined village. Most of the wooden buildings had burned down, leaving only their frames.

Looks like there’s no one alive.

Even if there had been survivors, they would probably have run far away rather than stayed here. No one would want to risk the bandits returning. After circling the area once to search for survivors, Shan returned near the village square and looked down at the scattered corpses.

“Father...”

The priest was one of the very few people in this village who had not despised the sinful Alto orphan boy, but had pitied him. Shan wondered how he would have judged the sight of him driving away bandits with demonic power. Would he have said it was fine because even evil power had been used for good? Or would he have said that quietly being cut down was the goddess’s will?

A little later, Shan found a shovel that had not melted in the fire and made a grave for the priest behind the church. He did not know how to write, so he could not make a gravestone or anything of the sort, but he could at least pray as he had once been taught and ask that the priest’s soul ascend to the goddess’s temple. As he closed his eyes and prayed quietly, he remembered the teaching the priest had once left him with pity.

I really was the devil’s child.

The pleasure of killing and violence he had felt the previous night, the exhilaration that had filled his head to bursting, was still vivid. How could someone who felt joy in killing people not be a demon? Now he understood why people hated Alto so much.

With a tangled heart, mixed with self-loathing and relief, Shan prayed before the grave for a long time. After finishing the priest’s burial, he rummaged through the village just as he had searched the bandits’ corpses, looking for anything worth taking.

He left the villagers’ corpses alone, feeling no desire to bury them. But he found little of great value here either, since anything that could be called real wealth, such as grain sacks or dried lumber, had long since turned to ashes. The only things of value he could find were a few fused gold and silver coins from the village chief’s and the local notables’ houses, along with silver candlesticks and plates used for church rites.

I’m sorry, Father. But if I leave them here, someone else will just steal them.

After offering prayers of atonement to the goddess and the priest, Shan slung the bundle full of various items onto his back and left the village as a completely free man, bound by no one.

To confess, Shan had never once left the village since birth. In childhood, he had been the unwanted burden of the village chief’s house, and after growing a little older, he had been tied to the village as an unpaid laborer who worked endlessly. 

In other words, he knew nothing at all about the world outside the village. He did not even know where the neighboring village people occasionally interacted, how to get there, or what lay beyond it. 

What little he did know was the southern continent where elephants lived, which Celina had told him about, and the land of monsters said by Father Ador in the past to lie far to the east. However, this knowledge was utterly useless in a situation where he did not even know which direction was south or east. 

So Shan simply followed the dirt road stretching from the entrance of the village, naturally formed where people often walked and trampled the grass down. As he moved, he thought about his next destination.

Should I try finding Celina?

Since she was the only person outside the village Shan knew, it was a choice worth considering. Of course, to her, Shan was probably nothing more than a ragged orphan brat who listened to her boasting...

Having walked for a fairly long time, lost in thought, he began to feel the area darkening as the sun slowly set. He had woken late and had spent too much time on the funeral and searching the village.

Shan decided to walk a bit farther and spend the night by the roadside. It was not as though the dark interfered with his vision, but in any case, no village would likely receive a guest who arrived at night.

His muscle pain had not yet gone away, and even walking was difficult. At least it was fortunate that the season was slowly becoming summer. If it had been cold, he would have had to build a fire, and he did not know how.

He only vaguely knew that if you banged stones together and rubbed them together somehow, it would work, but after several attempts, the results were poor. He wrapped himself in the bandit captain’s cloak, leaned against a fairly large tree, and closed his eyes for several hours.

However, his sleep was soon interrupted by a chill running down his spine. A primitive stone axe, a rock bound to a stick with vine-like fibers, was coming down toward his head.

“Ugh!”

Quickly jerking his head back to dodge, he kicked forward the cloak covering him, flinging it out, and a sharp screech rang out. The assailant was a monster about as tall as a man’s waist, with a flat face where the bridge of its nose should have been, buck teeth, and long ears. They surrounded Shan, bearing black eyes without whites, threatening him.

“Kaak! Gak! Karrr—”

It was his first time facing them directly, but he had heard their appearance described several times, enough to know what they were. They were Goblins, the low-grade monsters often seen throughout forests and fields.

He had heard that they were too cowardly to attack when several sturdy men were together, but because Shan was alone, had no fire lit, and was small, they had apparently decided they could handle him.

At their savage aggression, Shan let out a snort.

“How dare you?”

Maybe it would have been different until yesterday, but Shan had already taken down several warriors bigger and stronger than himself. There was no way he would be frightened. The creatures rushed him with primitive weapons made of stone and wood. But the moment Shan lightly swung his sword and instantly cut two of them to pieces, they panicked and fled.

“Oh.”

In that process, Shan let out an exclamation as he realized that his first spoil of war, the bandit captain’s sword, was an even better weapon than he had thought. Goblins might be small and weak, but they were still about the size of dogs, and yet they had been cut far too easily. 

He felt that even if the opponent were a person, an unarmored body could probably be split in half without difficulty. Though if he kept cutting through bones often, the edge would probably wear down quickly, so it would be better to refrain whenever possible. 

After wiping the blood from the dead goblins’ reddish-brown skin and tidying himself for a moment, Shan looked around. Realizing more animals had gathered nearby, he clicked his tongue. There were foxes, lynxes, and even wolves. It seemed that all the beasts that had been too afraid of the hunter to approach the village were lurking around here now.

When he threw the two goblin corpses, several of them growled and claimed the bodies, while the rest let out mournful cries and disappeared into the forest. In any case, the lesson he had learned today was clear. Sleeping defenseless in the forest at night was absurdly dangerous. The next morning, Shan opened his eyes and walked for another two hours before finally arriving at another village. More precisely, it would be correct to say he had arrived at ruins that had once been a village.

“Ah...”

Judging by how much it looked like Willow Village, the attackers were probably the same bandits. The only difference was that about a day more had passed, so insects swarmed everywhere and a foul smell hung in the air. It seemed they had attacked this place first, then attacked Willow Village the day after.

Was this the village Celina had married into? Or do I have to go further?

If only there were at least someone to ask, but with no survivors, there was no way to know.

Where do I even go now?

He was running low on the hardtack he had taken from the bandits’ corpses, so he needed to sell something and buy food. As he was worrying, someone exclaimed from a distance.

“There’s a person over there!”

“Hey! You there! Don’t move!”

What came running while shouting were men armed half with proper weapons and half with farm tools. There were as many as sixty of them.

“What, it’s just a kid?”

“You know something about the men who attacked this village, don’t you?”

“Where did all those weapons come from?”

As the people who had rushed over tried to surround him, Shan thrust out the short spear he had been using as a walking stick and kept them from getting closer.

“Don’t come near me.”

At his defensive stance, the men’s eyes narrowed.

“He’s covered in blood, and for a kid, he’s carrying all kinds of weapons... suspicious, isn’t he?”

“Maybe he stole them from the village?”

At the rude way the men muttered among themselves, Shan took a breath and gathered up his inner courage for a moment. Otherwise, he felt like he might bow at the waist and slip back into a servile posture right away.

“And who are you, people?”

Ah, that sounded too rude.

Shan was not the only one who thought so, apparently, because the men clearly looked displeased. But apart from that, they answered his question sincerely. The spear aimed at them had probably helped.

“We’re the vigilantes of Leaf Village.”

“We heard this place, Mountain Shade Village, was attacked by bandits and came to help.”

After answering that, a middle-aged man who seemed to represent them stepped forward and asked,

“Now it’s your turn. Do you know anything about the attack on this village?”

“First put down that damned spear and... ugh!”

At that moment, the large bearded man beside him suddenly cut in and reached out to snatch the spear, only to let out a scream. Because Shan twisted his wrist and sliced open his palm with the spearhead. The eyes of the vigilantes turned grim at the sight of blood, but Shan did not back down and declared his intentions in a somewhat trembling voice.

“I told you. Don’t come near me. If you try to touch me, I’ll attack.”

Even if they were scarecrows who could barely handle their own bodies, if they took his weapon, he could not resist. With a body this light, he could not put enough force into his fists or feet to stop an opponent. Perhaps Shan’s attitude looked arrogant to them, because the men all began shouting and leveled their weapons at him.

“This bastard is definitely one of the bandits’ lackeys!”

“Grab him and chop off his wrists!”

“Stop! Stop! Everyone, calm down! What are you doing scaring a child like this!?”

Fortunately, thanks to the man who had acted as their representative stepping in urgently, it did not escalate into an armed clash. Though it was hard to say which side was fortunate. After the mood had settled a little, the leader of the vigilantes spoke in a voice that carried more respect than before.

“My name is Orgo. I’m the chief of the Leaf Village.”

“I’m Shan. I live in the Willow Village.”

“Willow Village, huh... that would be south of Mountain Shade Village.”

As he said that and slightly turned his head, one of the men behind him asked,

“What’s the name of the hunter in Willow Village?”

“Mr. Bon.”

“And the wife of Jexen the woodcutter?”

“Mary.”

“He got them all right.”

Once Shan proved that he was a resident of a nearby village, the atmosphere that had seemed ready to explode relaxed a little. Only for a moment, however. The man who had been asking questions suddenly exclaimed as if he had realized something.

“Wait, I thought I’d heard the name Shan before. He’s that Alto they’re raising in Willow Village, isn’t he?”

“What? An Alto? They’ve got quite the stomach for it.”

“But he looks normal enough. No horns or anything.”

Since Shan’s eyes did not reveal their special traits unless it was dark, here in the bright midday field, he looked no different from an ordinary person. As the people grew confused, Orgo, who had been acting as the spokesman, quickly changed the subject.

“Alright, Shan. Can you tell us where you got those things? And why you came all the way out here alone instead of staying in Willow Village?”

Unlike before, his tone now sounded like he was soothing a child. Shan hesitated for a moment, then obediently explained the situation. He told them about the bandits who had suddenly attacked the village, the people dying helplessly, and the fight that followed until he killed them and left the village. The people’s reaction after hearing it all was exactly as expected—a disbelieving laugh and sneering.

“What kind of nonsense is that?”

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable, kid.”

It was believable that the bandits who had attacked this village had also attacked the Willow Village. But the story that it only took about a dozen or more bandits to completely burn down a village with over fifty grown men didn’t sound real at all. Not to mention that an Alto child had killed all the bandits.

If that were true, the Alto would already be ruling the world. How could a skinny boy who looked at most eleven or twelve possibly have done such a thing? Everyone knew that even if Alto were said to be descendants of demons or wielders of wicked magic, they did not have that kind of power.

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t believe me, but I’m not lying.”

“Bullshit!”

The large man whose palm Shan had scratched with the spear earlier shouted and strode forward. He had apparently stopped the bleeding because his right hand was now wrapped in cloth.

“Rodam, calm down a little—”

“Calm down? How long are we supposed to let this brat jerk us around? It’s obvious he just hid in some corner of the battlefield and stole a few weapons!”

The big man, still seething, then turned his gaze to Shan.

“You! Put down that spear and kneel right now, or I’ll kill you! I don’t go easy just because someone’s a brat!”

“So, when I scratched your hand, you weren’t going easy on me?”

For a moment, Shan was inwardly startled by the sarcasm that slipped out without him meaning to, but then he saw the veins bulging all over the giant man’s face. The man snatched the pitchfork from the comrade standing right beside him and came charging with a yell.

What should I do? Should I just give him a light warning again, like before? 

But if he did that and the man forced his way through a minor wound, it could be dangerous. If it came down to a close struggle with fists, strength and weight would decide the outcome, not agility or reflexes.

After only a moment of thought, Shan felt that the man was really thrusting as though he did not care if Shan died, and so he abandoned any intention of showing mercy like before.

Clang!

The spearhead and the pitchfork caught and twisted together, and in that instant, Shan’s hand that had left the spear smoothly seized the sword hilt.

“Aaaaargh!”

With that scream, the giant man’s arm twitched as it fell to the ground.