So thugs were playing cards in the middle of the room over a stack of silver and copper coins piled high between them. The table was nothing more than a thick wooden crate flipped upside down, its surface scarred with knife marks and burn stains. Around it sat six n, all ard and loud. The gambling den reeked of ale, sweat, and damp wood. Laughter burst out as one of the n slamd his cards down.
"Ha! Full house. Pay up, you fuckers."
"Like hell! I know what you've been up to!"
Another snarled.
"You've been using marked cards all night."
"Nonsense. You're just a sore loser who doesn't know when to quit."
"Is that right? Then give those cards, because this one looks strange."
The man flipped one of the cards and pointed to the subtle pattern on the back.
"I don't know what you're talking about…"
He denied the claim, but the accuser did not let up. The other four n began to grow suspicious as well.
"Now that you point it out… it does look slightly off."
They all examined their cards. The backs were ant to carry identical patterns, but in one place the lines were slightly shorter, or a tiny dot appeared where none should have been. It was a subtle technique used to mark a deck for gambling.
"This bastard was using marked cards!"
"What do you an? Those are just imperfections in the deck. If you want to bla soone, bla the boss. I got this deck straight from the Hound himself."
The man grinned, a golden tooth flashing in the orange lantern light of the den. Behind him sat a broad figure in half plate armor, his face marked by old gashes and set in a deep frown. His face wasn't fully human, animalistic and resembling a wolf to so degree.
"If it was the boss, then…"
The others exchanged uneasy glances, but no one raised their voice again. Even if they had caught the man cheating, there was nothing they could do except refuse to play or find another deck of cards.
The tension in the room thickened, a volatile mix of greed and fear held in check only by the presence of the scarred man in the corner. He did not care about the cheating. He only cared about the cut he would receive at the end of the hour.
"Shut up and deal."
The leader growled like a wolf, but the next card never hit the table.
*CRACK. BOOM.*
At first, no one reacted. The roof of the abandoned slum house was in terrible condition; rats and rain often slipped through. Then the wood split apart. With a thunderous crash, the ceiling caved in. Rusty dropped straight through the broken beams like a falling boulder. He slamd into the center of the crate, shocking the n gathered around it.
The wooden crate disintegrated into splinters, and the mountain of silver and copper coins launched into the air like shrapnel. Coins flew in every direction, striking the n in the face along with chunks of wood, but there was more than that. Long, clawed arms swung out, severing the jugular veins of two unprepared thugs. Their blood sprayed across the room as the attack began.
Rusty crouched in a crater of shattered wood, his longer-than-normal limbs spread apart as he launched himself like a cat at another gambler. His weight felt light as a feather as he took off, but the mont he collided with the man, it beca crushing, as if he weighed a ton.
The man scread in agony as he was pinned beneath the sudden force, and clawed hands pierced his torso. More people rushed in from the sides, only to witness the horror of three of their companions dying within seconds. The wolf-looking rcenary leapt to his feet and pointed at Rusty as he shouted.
"Get that monster! What are you fools doing!"
One thug lunged for his axe, but Rusty was faster. His strike sent the weapon and the hand that held it spinning across the gambling den before they hit the floor. The man's screams were ignored as he fell back, clutching the bloody stump. The rcenaries finally regained their senses and began circling Rusty from all sides.
"Kill that thing!"
Spears, axes, swords, and even arrows flew toward him, yet he did not retreat or attempt to dodge. Instead, his body shifted, growing bulkier, taller, and far more resistant than before. The weapons struck, but his durability easily surpassed the crude steel and the weakest enchantnts etched into them.
"What is this thing? How did it get so big?"
One of the n shouted. He barely finished speaking before a massive mace slamd into his head. The blow crushed his upper torso, and his body collapsed instantly. On the other hand, a massive shield struck against two grown n, sending them flying up against a wall that promptly collapsed.
"Useless!"
The sub-leader shouted as he launched himself forward, a bludgeon gripped tightly in his hands. He struck Rusty in the back, forcing him to stumble slightly and turn around.
"I'll keep this thing busy. Use blunt weapons, you stupid bastards!"
'No wonder he is a sub-boss. He identified one of my weaknesses rather quickly.'
Rusty was nothing more than living armor. Though he appeared large and heavy, his body was hollow inside. Swords and spears could not truly harm him, but magic and blunt attacks made his fra vibrate and sent damaging tremors into the hidden core within. However, there was one thing the rcenaries did not realize. He was not alone.
"Argh!"
"W-what?"
"There are more of them?"
A spear pierced one of the rcenaries from behind, and another suit of armor erged. It was pitch black, similar to Rusty's body, with Aburdon inside.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
"Hah, lowly humans! You always die so quickly!"
He cackled maniacally as he swung the spear in wide arcs, aiming for critical points and gaps in their armor.
"What are you waiting for, hero? Have fun with . Let us see who can kill more of these lowly peasants!"
Alexander, inhabiting his own suit of armor, joined the fray. He intercepted an attack with his shield and stabbed a man in the shoulder before kicking him away. It was the perfect chance to finish him. He raised his blade, but his hand trembled. He could not bring himself to kill another human.
"Ahh!"
The man scrambled to his feet and charged, only to be pierced through by the spear of the demon lord.
"Pathetic. You feel empathy for these criminals? Are you thinking about their families or sothing equally pathetic, hero?"
Aburdon mocked him without restraint. These n were rcenaries and thugs, but not all of them were truly evil. Alexander knew that. So had families, siblings, and loved ones waiting for them. He could not slaughter them without hesitation, the way the other two could.
Alexander's hesitation cost him. A blade scraped across his side, sparks bursting from enchanted steel as one of the thugs recovered faster than expected. The impact sent him stumbling backward across the broken planks.
"Focus!"
Rusty's distorted voice echoed from within his towering fra as he caught the wolf-like sub-leader's bludgeon mid-swing. The weapon groaned under the pressure of tallic gauntlets squeezing tighter and tighter.
"You think about their families."
Aburdon snarled, yanking his spear free from a collapsing corpse,
"While they think about how to split you open and cut the throats of those innocents you love to protect."
His words struck deep. Alexander rembered what these rcenaries had been doing. Raping, pillaging, and using force to get their way. Even if there were a few good apples among them, the organization was rotten to the core.
"..."
The man charged at Alexander's white armor. This ti, Alexander did not hesitate. He deflected the blow with his sword and drove the blade into the man's gut. The rcenary scread, eyes bulging as he slumped forward. When Alexander pulled the sword free, the man collapsed to the ground among the others.
"That's better, hero. No rcy for the wicked, right?"
The sub-leader roared and released his weapon. He retreated a step, then slamd his bare fist into the ground. A pulse of dull orange energy rippled outward.
"Scatter!"
He shouted as the shockwave tore through the den. Rusty braced himself and widened his stance, but the tremor traveled through his hollow body and rattled his inner core. Cracks spidered across the floorboards beneath him, and for a mont, he was stunned.
The leader seed to have realized that fighting inside the building was a death sentence. Many of his n were still within, and they had started running. If even one of them managed to escape, their entire plan would be ruined. For now, he could not allow anyone to learn that he existed in the city as a monster. If that truth ca out, he would have no choice but to abandon the settlent and the children he was watching over.
Fortunately, the thugs and rcenaries would not get far. The first man to step outside suddenly found himself unable to move any farther. He bounced off the hidden obstacle, his nose turning bloody.
"W-what is this? There is a barrier here. Is there a mage sowhere?"
Like the previous hoodlums, they began bouncing off the barrier Gleam had created. She remained outside, steadily pouring more of her mana into it. The defense had its limits, and Rusty rushed out just as the wolf-like man struck the barrier, small cracks forming across its surface.
"Blasted thing!"
Rusty arrived just in ti. Using his montum, he charged at the sub-leader. His shield slamd into the man's side as he tried to evade, sending him tumbling into a pile of broken bottles nearby.
"F-fuck, what is this? Who is doing this?"
The man roared into the night sky. In his mind, the monsters here were nothing more than pawns of so hidden sorcerer. No one answered. Rusty surged forward, his mace swinging, twilight energy swirling around him.
The wolf man stood at the middle of D-rank, weaker than Varkas but still a capable fighter. His weapon clashed with Rusty's mace again and again. Rusty's armor dented in several places, but eventually one of the man's knees shattered, and he collapsed to the ground.
"No, p-please. If it is money you want, I will give you all of it!"
Rusty lood over him. Despite the desperate plea, he felt no sympathy. This beastman still lingered in the victims' mories, Rusty had found. He had enjoyed toying with them, biting into their flesh as they scread in pain. One of the recently murdered won had died that way, and her rage was still palpable.
"You deserve no rcy. You showed them none."
Rusty raised his mace high and brought it down on the man's head. The crunch echoed through the rain-soaked alleyway where they stood, but no sound escaped beyond it, blocked by Gleam's magic. For a mont, the beastman's body twitched, then the light quickly faded from his eyes.
The barrier shimred faintly as Gleam's mana flowed through it, repairing the damaged sections and stopping the other n in their tracks. So noticed that their leader was dead and clawed at the invisible wall, but most of them were only E-rankers, incapable of breaking through with their ager strength.
Soon, the battle was over. Aburdon's laughter died away as he drove his spear through another man's neck. When they began, there had been close to thirty n inside the building. Now there were none. Their blood mixed with the rainwater as Rusty absorbed around ten bodies, including the sub leader.
"Great job, everyone."
"( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و"
Gleam skittered back to him once it was done. She was in good spirits, as was Aburdon, but Alexander remained quiet.
"Just as planned, we'll leave it like this. They'll think the sub leader did it and fled with the money."
It was a simple plan. They intended to divide the group and make the remaining mbers believe their leaders had betrayed them and run off with the money. While the infighting continued, he would take the opportunity to eliminate more of them, deepening the rift and making it far easier to target Varkas, their true leader.
The rain continued to fall, washing the blood toward the open slum streets. Rusty stood in the ruined gambling den and surveyed the carnage. Broken beams hung at crooked angles, lanterns flickered weakly in puddles of watered-down ale, and bodies lay strewn across splintered floorboards. To any outsider, it looked like a dispute that had turned into a massacre.
With the plan complete, Rusty withdrew. He recalled Aburdon and Alexander's bodies, then shifted into his wraith form and climbed back onto the rooftops. Soon after he left, he heard shouting as the scene of the battle was discovered. From his hiding place, he saw torches approaching in the distance, along with a large number of guards and rcenaries.
He moved quickly, putting distance between himself and the area before retreating to a temporary hiding place outside the city. There he switched into his smallest form and waited for morning, uncertain whether his enemies possessed the skill to track him.
"What do you think?"
"It should be fine. The blood was on the other body, so they should not be able to find us here."
Alexander reassured him as he sat with Gleam inside a hollow tree. They had found an entrance at the back of a massive stump. In his smaller form, Rusty could fit inside easily, and just as they expected, no one ca searching.
"Have you heard?"
"Yeah. It seems it was over gambling money. They killed each other over a handful of silver coins."
"Greed is a terrible thing."
When morning ca, Rusty returned to the city, pretending he had been exploring a dungeon or hunting monsters in the forest. The guards and townsfolk were already talking.
"…They say the Hound's third tore the place apart himself."
"Ran off with the night's earnings, too. Left his own n butchered."
Rusty kept his pace steady as he passed through the gate, his hood low and posture relaxed. The guards barely spared him a glance. Adventurers ca and went at all hours, and in this form he carried no trace of the previous night's blood.
For now, his plan seed to have worked, though he could not be certain. Caution was still necessary. He had taken the first step toward ending the Hounds, and soon more of them would be crushed beneath his mace.
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