Chapter 1

#001 Episode

The path leading from the forest to the village.

Whoosh.

Amidst the dark sky, an orange glow rippled beyond the forest.

"Rusola, my God... I thought I smelled something burning."

A vigilante with one eye gazed at the scene and muttered.

If it was visible from here, the other side must be a sea of fire for sure.

"Didn't you say it was just one swordsman, Captain?"

The one-eyed man turned his head and asked.

The grizzled-bearded captain, leaning against a tree, frowned.

"Looks like a spellcaster with a sword. I saw it myself, don't you believe me?"

His eyes seemed ready to draw his sword at any moment.

The one-eyed man forced a servile smile.

"Of course not. Just in case... Just in case."

Unlike him, the captain was a former imperial soldier. Though a deserter, his sword skills were genuine.

"Hey, Captain. If that's the case—"

A large, bald man standing beside him, who was also a vigilante, spoke up nervously.

"Shouldn't we change our plan? A mage is a bit... unsettling."

"That's what I'm saying, Captain. It looks like the direction of the kobold lair."

The one-eyed man chimed in at the right moment.

"If it's a mage powerful enough to burn down the entire lair, it might be better to retreat."

"..."

The captain's frown deepened.

Encouraged by his lack of cursing, the one-eyed man added,

"We don't need to risk our lives for a side job. Hehe... He didn't seem to have much on him, right?"

"...Sigh."

The captain finally sighed.

He had formed this ragtag group of vigilantes to protect the village from kobolds.

It looked dangerous, but in reality, it wasn't.

Kobolds, those small monsters, rarely ventured out of the forest, and even a few sword strikes would send them running in fear.

In exchange, they got unlimited free food and drink, making it a good deal.

Plus, the side job was lucrative.

Occasionally, wandering mercenaries would try to eliminate the lair, but none succeeded.

Kobolds became truly monstrous when their home was threatened, fighting to the death.

So, the captain and his men would wait on the path and loot the fleeing mercenaries.

The bodies were left in the forest for the kobolds to dispose of, making cleanup easy.

Even if they failed, searching for bodies during the day was enough.

Kobolds were only interested in meat, not possessions.

It was a mutually beneficial relationship.

And today, they planned to do the same.

"You idiots."

Before seeing that scene.

The captain's words made the bald man and the one-eyed man tense up.

"If that's really the kobold lair burning, does a side job matter? We might lose our main job from tomorrow."

"..."

"..."

The one-eyed man's eyes widened.

The bald man was no different.

The captain, clicking his tongue, continued.

"So, we need to silence that spellcaster. First, we need to make sure the villagers don't know the lair is gone."

They finally nodded.

The bald man, swallowing hard, asked,

"Can we keep lying... forever?"

"We'll just say we're going to clear the lair tomorrow. We'll return with loot and say it was easier thanks to the spellcaster. Who would know?"

"..."

"..."

The two subordinates' eyes widened again.

The captain shrugged.

"Then we can continue as the village vigilantes. Maybe we'll even be officially appointed for our service."

"Captain, as expected..."

The one-eyed man muttered in admiration.

Their admiration was short-lived.

"But can we win? Against a red mage...?"

The bald man muttered belatedly.

"That's why it's now, you cowardly bald man. Magic isn't an endless miracle."

The captain clicked his tongue and cut him off.

"With a fire that big, he must have used all his power to burn the lair. He won't have recovered his mana. It's the twilight of his magic. A mage without mana is as helpless as a child."

He drew his finger across his throat.

"Just a few sword strikes will do. I've seen many spellcasters die pointlessly on the battlefield."

"What if he has mana left...?"

"Red magic takes time to cast. If something seems off, I'll throw my sword first."

The bald man's eyes finally sparkled.

He nodded firmly.

"Got it, Captain."

The last part was a lie.

The captain planned to sacrifice his subordinates if necessary to get a chance to stab the mage.

He trusted his sword skills more.

"Don't worry."

Hiding his true intentions, the captain patted the bald man's shoulder.

"There's no way a great mage would come to this backwater. They're all locked up in towers, right? So, just do as usual..."

Suddenly, the captain's voice trailed off.

He lowered his body, staring into the darkness.

"Shh. He's coming."

"..."

The bald man and the one-eyed man, startled, crouched on either side of the path.

Thud, thud.

The slow, limping footsteps.

"Damn, it's heavy, fuck..."

The grumbling voice followed.

A foul smell of blood, smoke, and sweat filled the air.

As the captain frowned, the mage's figure appeared.

He looked as if he had bathed in ash and blood.

He wasn't wearing the hood he had in the morning, and he didn't have his sword.

One of his legs was limping.

Instead, he was carrying something in his arms, which turned out to be a head with horns.

It was several times larger than the kobold heads the captain knew.

'That spellcaster kid really wiped out the kobold lair. Crazy...'

The captain realized it was the kobold chieftain's head.

He felt a sense of relief.

'Sure enough, he can only be killed now.'

The mage clearly didn't have the power to cast spells at the moment.

Waiting for the mage to get close enough, the captain signaled his subordinates.

The bald man and the one-eyed man rose silently.

Both had drawn their swords, and the faint glint of steel was visible even in the dark.

"..."

The mage tilted his head.

But it didn't matter if he noticed now.

Just a few steps away.

One leap and they could stab him.

The captain, confident of success, rose a beat later.

"Stop."

Holding his sword hilt, he said.

The mage stopped abruptly.

"Phew..."

As the mage sighed, the captain quickly added,

"Don't even think about speaking. And that."

He nodded at the chieftain's head the mage was holding.

"Put it down. Then I'll spare your life."

"..."

A moment of silence.

Finally, the mage snorted and said,

"As you wish."

He released the head.

As the chieftain's head fell, the mage's hand was revealed.

It was glowing with a deep blue mana.

"..."

When did he...? The captain's eyes widened instinctively.

"Fire!"

Whoosh!

A whistling sound came from behind the mage.

Another subordinate, lying in ambush, had fired a crossbow.

Whoosh!

Almost simultaneously, a gray mist rippled behind the mage.

"Aaah!"

The bald man dropped to one knee.

The bolt that should have hit the mage was embedded in his thigh.

"Ugh, ugh!"

There was no time to think about what had happened.

The one-eyed man shouted and lunged. The captain followed, charging at the mage.

Thud!

A wind mixed with the smell of smoke suddenly pushed him back.

The wind barrier that had deflected the bolt.

The barrier's effect was very short.

Snap!

But it was enough time for the mage to clap his hands.

Whoosh!

A deep blue coldness exploded in concentric circles around the mage.

Anything caught in the shockwave froze instantly.

"..."

The one-eyed man, hit directly, stumbled past the mage and fell.

Crack!

The sound of ice breaking came from his body as he hit the ground.

The captain, who was behind him, was luckier.

"Aaah..."

He was severely frostbitten but still alive.

The spell's range wasn't wide.

"..."

The mage, who had been looking at the fallen captain, turned his head.

His hand was already glowing with red mana.

Whoosh, whoosh.

Seven small flames, each the size of a fist, appeared around him.

The mage fired six of them in quick succession.

Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom!

Even without proper aim, the random explosions were enough to catch the ambushing vigilantes.

"Ah, save me—!"

Boom! Whoosh!

The last flame burned the bald man from head to toe, his face a mess of tears and snot.

The area lit up.

The captain, trembling, looked up at the mage's face.

"How... How can you use fire and ice at the same time?"

It was a question only a former imperial soldier could ask.

He had seen many mages, and they specialized in one elemental magic.

They were very protective of their knowledge and never shared spells with mages of other elements.

Their knowledge and spells defined their identity.

It was a common belief in the empire.

"How can I do what?"

Picking up the captain's fallen sword, the mage muttered.

"Because I'm a bastard."

His tone was tinged with annoyance.

"Bastard...?"

The captain, confused, repeated the word.

And that was his last word.

Crack.

The mage mercilessly slashed his neck with the sword.

"Annoying bastards..."

The mage sighed again.

He bent down to search the captain's body.

His movements were very familiar.

Soon, a small pouch came into his hand.

Forcing open the slightly frozen mouth, the mage clicked his tongue.

"I was hoping for more with a decent sword."

Just a few coins.

If the captain had this much, his subordinates probably had even less.

But the mage thoroughly searched the bald man and the one-eyed man's pouches.

Collecting a few more thin pouches, he finally turned around.

Suddenly, his gaze fell on his own hand.

"...I don't even feel nervous anymore."

He picked up the chieftain's head again, muttering bitterly.

"Damn, it's cold."

The chieftain's head was frozen solid.

"Really, you're full of surprises..."

Using the captain's sword as a cane, the mage limped away.

The bodies were left behind.

***

Creak! Bang!

The tavern door was roughly pushed open.

The noise inside the tavern, which had been buzzing, was cut off as if by a knife.

All the drunkards' eyes focused on the man who had burst in.

But no one shouted or got angry.

"..."

They just blinked in shock.

The man looked as if he had returned from hell, and he was carrying a large, grotesque head.

The monster's face was a frozen mask of pain and terror.

Thud, thud.

Ignoring the stares, the man entered the tavern and headed for the counter.

Bang!

He threw the monster's head onto the counter.

The muscular tavern owner, who had been dozing, jerked awake.

"This is...? Oh, my."

He stared at the chieftain's head, then laughed weakly.

"You really did it. I didn't expect it. Thank you."

The man didn't respond.

Instead, he raised his right hand.

Crack!

The sword was embedded in the counter.

"..."

The owner, frowning, looked at the sword.

He sighed.

"You met the vigilantes."

He recognized whose sword it was.

"Yeah."

The man finally answered briefly.

The owner added,

"They're all dead?"

"Yeah."

The man looked at the owner.

The silence in the tavern grew heavier.

Despite the man being shorter, the owner didn't move.

"Is that all you have to say?"

The man asked.

The owner met the man's eyes.

His calm, dark eyes.

The killing intent in them was calm but intense.

"...Well done."

The owner finally said, barely holding his gaze.

"Those bastards. They did nothing but drink and eat. Right?"

A few drunkards quickly agreed.

"Yeah! They were a vigilante group in name only, no different from bandits. They got what they deserved, those scoundrels!"

"Two of the village's problems are gone at once!"

It was also a desperate plea.

They were innocent.

No one in the tavern could face a man who had single-handedly wiped out the kobold lair and killed the entire vigilante group.

"...I see."

The man finally nodded.

Pulling out the sword, he said,

"You haven't forgotten the reward, right?"

The owner, relieved, nodded.

"As promised, your food and lodging at our tavern are free for life. If you want, I can also give you a reward. It won't be much, but..."

"That's fine. I just want to sleep."

The man, sheathing the sword loosely at his waist, added,

"Prepare a hot bath. Right now."

"Sure. How long will you need?"

The owner signaled to a nervous waitress and asked.

Turning around, the man replied,

"Until I say it's enough."

The man limped up the stairs.

The owner, watching his back, added,

"By the way, I've never asked. What's your name?"

The answer was short.

"Ian."

***

"Let's hang this head on the wall! Hahaha, it's so ugly."

"Looks like you, doesn't it? Maybe you have a kobold ancestor?"

"What did you say, you little—?"

The loud, boisterous voices echoed through the floor.

"...Damn, it's so noisy."

Ian, sitting in the bathtub, clicked his tongue.

He was still scrubbing his body vigorously.

Even after the third bath, most of the grime was gone, but the discomfort remained.

"If only they had a cucumber soap, I'd be set."

Muttering, Ian suddenly chuckled.

"Set my ass, fuck..."

His greatest wish was different.

To return to his original world.

Ian lay down in the bathtub.

Staring at the ceiling, covered in cobwebs, he muttered softly,

"...It wasn't even an illegal download."

He had fallen into this world, devoid of hygiene and human rights, about a year ago.