Borderline Village (3)
A stench hung in the air, mingling with the sight of tilted signs and streets littered with trash.
Dalen and Sienna were greeted by the eerie silence of a village devoid of life.
Splash.
The sound of water splashing from a puddle echoed between the buildings, emphasizing the profound stillness.
“Something’s definitely wrong here,” Sienna finally spoke, while Dalen stroked his chin thoughtfully.
This was the Borderline Village, a place known as a haven for smugglers. Its current silence was anything but normal.
‘Let’s assess the situation.’
Dalen expanded his senses, scanning a hundred-meter radius. He absorbed every detail, from the drip of water from a high ceiling to the ominous quiet surrounding them.
‘The Bronze District of the Labyrinth City is divided into four sectors: north, south, east, and west.’
The northern sector, with its trade ports and aquaculture hub. The western sector, home to vast farms and livestock facilities. The eastern sector, where numerous workshops thrived around dozens of mines. And the southern sector, the most open to outsiders, welcoming mercenaries, traders, and even refugees from the monster crisis.
The southern sector, with its lax security, had become a sanctuary for illegal activities, including drugs and prostitution.
‘That’s why Borderline Villages exist.’
Unlike the lawless southern sector, the other sectors maintained better order. Yet, the unique criminal element of the Bronze District persisted, with illegal goods thriving in the shadows.
Borderline Villages served as conduits between these shadow markets, straddling the boundaries of the sectors, channeling drugs, smuggled goods, and other illicit items.
In the dim, underground streets, there were not just one or two, but dozens of such villages, each with its own infrastructure.
Even in this grand city, resplendent with its seven walls, shadows as deep as its light were inevitable.
The fact that one of these shadowy Borderline Villages was now silent and empty meant something was seriously amiss.
“Dalen, come here.”
Sienna called him over from inside a shop. She was examining stains on the wooden floor, measuring their size and position with her fingers, then moving to another stain to do the same.
“Hmm…”
Her eyes, glowing with magical light, narrowed in thought. Dalen quickly reached the same conclusion.
“You know what this is, right?”
“People.”
“Exactly. These are traces of people. Over there, someone sat in that chair. By the stall, someone leaned with their hand.”
Their deductions flowed seamlessly, as if they shared a single mind.
“The glass vial given to the meth addict. The liquid inside was once a person, a vagrant addicted to drugs.”
“The whole village was likely hooked on a new drug. In a place like this, it’s not surprising. They went about their lives until, for some reason, they all went up in smoke at once.”
Sienna mimed an explosion with her hands, illustrating the sudden disappearance of the villagers.
In the pitch-black darkness, the faint stains were all that remained, revealing the truth: they were the remnants of people.
The drug, more than just inciting aggression, dissolved bodies and captured souls.
“Considering the usual population of a Borderline Village, at least five hundred people. With the recent influx of refugees, maybe twice that number perished.”
Smugglers, merchants, prostitutes, and their clients—hundreds of people vanished, their souls likely sacrificed in a dark ritual.
In modern times, such criminals might be seen as deserving of their fate, but Dalen, who had observed this world for a long time, knew better.
The underworld would always replenish itself, and the destruction wrought by a summoned demon would far surpass the loss of a hundred smugglers.
“The fact that this hasn’t spread as a rumor yet is probably due to the rats of the Darkmoon Order and their cave rat minions guarding the area.”
“Indeed. They’re perfect for guarding a wide area, blending seamlessly into the environment of the lower streets.”
“My informants’ tracking spells were cut off, meaning they died nearby. The Order must have started guarding the area since last night.”
“Hold on.”
Their rapid exchange of ideas was interrupted by Dalen.
“Someone’s approaching.”
“…Nox, Linux.”
No further words were needed. Sienna raised her hand, casting a spell.
Flash—
A sphere shot up high, illuminating the entire village with a blinding light.
Crash—
“Ugh!”
As the shadows of the buildings flipped in the bright light, Dalen’s axe had already found its mark in the forehead of a spellcaster.
‘Seven presences in total.’
As Dalen drew his axe from his belt, he quickly calculated the numbers in his head.
Five and two. Two separate groups.
Each presence was cloaked in spells or magical items, making them hard to detect with ordinary senses.
「Eyes of Shadow」
With a flash of power in his eyes, Dalen hurled his axe toward the approaching group of five.
Crash—
Under the illuminating light, the hand axe, a new gift from Reberon, flew like a disc of light.
“Ugh—!”
The black mage, hidden under a cloak of invisibility, fell with an axe embedded in his forehead before he could react.
Flash—
The sphere shone even brighter, turning the cavern as bright as day.
“The Witch of the Nest has improved her skills.”
Even with a cloak of invisibility, the bright light revealed their presence.
“Who are you to act so familiar?”
Sienna’s sharp question was directed at the four figures who had discarded their cloaks. The man in black plate armor at the front chuckled.
“How could I not know? You’re the one Lord Enaxagus has been so keen on…”
“Oh, so you’re a lackey of that vermin. No wonder you reek.”
This time, it was Sienna who laughed. The man’s face twisted in anger beneath his open visor.
“What to do? We have two people here who specialize in squashing bugs. A warrior who slays demons and a paladin still in hiding.”
“…You’re quick to catch on, Witch of Feathers.”
Sss—
Before Sienna’s words had even finished, two figures emerged from behind her.
A young man with neatly tied blonde hair and eyes glowing with divine power. His armor bore the emblem of the Paladin Order.
Lucia Castachald.
“There aren’t many mass-produced holy relics used by the Paladin Order, are there? Once you get used to the magic patterns, it’s easy to recognize. That was the Ring of Obritos you just used, right?”
“Now I see why they say the current Witch of Feathers is someone to be wary of. Are you leeching off Dalen with that silver tongue of yours?”
“Leeching? Dalen and I are friends. What’s your reason for getting involved in this? Is it the Paladin Order’s notorious meddling again?”
“…Unbelievable. To reject a paladin while facing a vile black mage.”
“Who was it that started this by revealing I’m the Witch of Feathers?”
…What the hell is going on here?
As the two began their unexpected argument, Dalen shook his head and greeted the young man beside Lucia.
“How have you been?”
“Yes. Apprentice Knight Parn, training under the Inquisitor to improve my skills. Thank you again for saving my life.”
“Good. Keep it up.”
Dalen patted the young man’s back, feeling the solid presence of divine power even through the armor.
The one-eyed, one-armed young mercenary was now showing the potential of a steadfast paladin.
‘More than I expected.’
Dalen chuckled softly. Another branch of possibility had sprouted, one that hadn’t existed beyond the monitor.
The possibilities he had been cultivating, and would continue to cultivate, were not his alone. The impending doom could not be overcome by his strength alone.
“…Let’s focus on the situation at hand.”
“Agreed.”
It seemed the inexplicable tension was finally coming to an end. Dalen rolled his shoulders and turned his head forward.
The four men and women before him were visibly flustered.
The most unsettled were the two in the back. Clad in drab robes, they practically screamed, “Look at us, we’re dark wizards.”
“A paladin? This wasn’t part of the deal, Sir Dallagud.”
“This is a blatant breach of contract. A warrior by the witch’s side, maybe, but a paladin?”
”…Both of you, shut up.”
With a sharp sound, the man in the lead, clad in plate armor, drew his sword, his face twisted in irritation.
“My sword’s in a foul mood. If you’re not careful, it might not distinguish between friend and foe.”
”…Ahem.”
The robed dark wizards fell silent. Dalen reached out his hand, and the two wizards flinched again as his axe returned to his grasp.
The man, dressed in black plate armor that made him look like a dark knight, asked, “You’re from the north, and with that build, you can’t be a spellcaster. Is it a magic weapon?”
Dalen shrugged, sheathing the axe at his waist and drawing his holy sword.
Judging by the dark knight’s demeanor, he seemed to be quite skilled. The axe throw that had just split a dark wizard’s head would be hard to replicate in a direct confrontation.
Of course, if he had enveloped the axe in black flames, it would have been unstoppable, but Dalen had something else in mind for this opponent.
“I’m not here for you, barbarian with the holy sword. Lord Enaxagus only wishes to punish the insolent witch who broke the contract.”
“Barbarian, huh? Your constant racial slurs are getting on my nerves.”
Dalen raised his holy sword.
“Let’s see if you can still talk like that with your head split in two.”
”…If words won’t work, then so be it.”
The dark knight nodded, and a shadow elf standing nearby drew a dagger from his cloak.
A sinister sound echoed as the dagger was unsheathed, the air around it turning ominous.
The dark knight grinned wickedly at the four who showed little reaction.
“First time seeing it in person, I bet. This is a blood ritual dagger. Not something your average dark wizard can get their hands on.”
The blade, stained a deep crimson, seemed to be saturated with the souls of countless sacrifices.
The shadow elf quickly formed hand signs, and a magic circle began to form around the dagger, now floating in midair.
“You’ll regret this. Do you really think you can handle us four, plus the power of the demon known as the Great Maw of Hell?”
Crack!
The space twisted, magical winds swirling as they were sucked into the rift forming in the air.
“Belzebub—Se Glam.”
A rift nearly three meters high opened, revealing the massive, slick-skinned leg of an amphibious creature.
Dalen, familiar with the sight of a hellgate opening, grinned fiercely.
He glanced back and said, “Isn’t it about time I earned the title ‘Demon Slayer’?”