After parting ways with the old man, Glen sprinted along the path, guided by memory.

  Finding the main road too circuitous, he cut across the fields and hills instead.

  The newly acquired clothes were soon torn and snagged by branches and brambles. Ugly and reeking, Glen felt no attachment to them.

  Stopping and starting intermittently, after a while, he suddenly caught a foul, putrid stench in the air.

  This was…decay. Corpses! His brow furrowed as he followed the scent to investigate.

  Soon, he came upon a modest farmhouse in the woods, its yard housing a few domestic birds. The stench emanated from within.

  Beside the farmhouse, a dirt path led outward, scattered with haphazard footprints.

  Suppressing his disgust, Glen pushed open the door. Though prepared, the scene before him turned his stomach instantly.

  A family of five lay dead: the parents, the eldest child around fourteen or fifteen, and the youngest just seven or eight.

  All met a gruesome fate.

  Inspecting each, he noted that apart from the two children who had been strangled, the rest displayed the same eerie cause of death: slackened muscles, sunken eye sockets, like the living dead. Whatever method had been used was unknown.

  Only seven or eight years old… Glen forced himself to calm down, then carefully laid the family to rest one by one.

  He knew such tragedies were not uncommon in this world, yet seeing it firsthand still ignited his anger.

  In his previous life, he had witnessed even more brutal scenes while on missions. Each encounter stirred waves of emotion within him.

  Back then, countless restrictions bound him, limiting his actions. Now, he was free—no one could tell him what to do.

  …

  In the hollow of a massive dead tree, three surviving dark mages lowered their hands from a failed spell.

  “Did he say there was an accident and that the rendezvous point was moved?” asked one, an eyepatch over his left eye.

  “That’s impossible. They hadn’t stayed long at that secluded spot. How could an accident happen so fast? Did the knights or a wizard from the Mage Alliance find us?” The hooked-nosed mage muttered skeptically.

  “Try contacting him again…” The third, his eyes deep green, had just suggested this when his expression shifted dramatically.

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  “Someone’s coming!” All three spoke in unison.

  Before they could react, a figure crashed into the hollow with lightning speed. The incantations for their defensive wards barely reached their throats before their heads received crushing blows.

  Their ever-active protective magic shattered instantly. The three dark mages lost consciousness.

  When the first regained a hazy awareness, he was horrified to find himself and his companions hung upside down, bound to a dead tree.

  A young man in tattered clothing sat by a fire, roasting a bird.

  Sensing their awakening, he didn’t look up. “You killed that family of five, didn’t you?”

  The awakened dark mage froze, then sneered maliciously, “Heh… yes, it was us. Are they your relatives? Friends? Their taste was exquisite. Shall I let you experience it properly? Heh…”

  It was obvious, given they had only killed that one family recently.

  Glen nodded slowly, standing calmly. “I have no connection to them. I simply dislike scum like you. Since I had some time, I decided to come by and finish you off.”

  “What?! Foolish, ignorant brat! We are noble mages! Superior by nature! You lowly mortals, ignorant of the greatness of magic—we kill at our whim! Dare oppose us? You’re not worthy!”

  The dark mage’s voice blazed with indignation and humiliation, as if merely speaking to Glen tarnished his dignity.

  All these mages seemed the same. Glen waited patiently for him to finish, then spoke deliberately:

  “You probably never feel anything when you take a life. So I’ll let you experience the slow ebbing of your own life…”

  Without waiting for a reaction, Glen flicked out a claw, pulling one mage’s arm taut, slicing a long wound along it, then securing it with rope to let blood flow freely onto the ground.

  He repeated the same with the other two.

  Pain awakened the remaining mages, who screamed and cursed furiously:

  “Despicable brat! We are mages! Release us at once, or… or… the consequences will be dire!”

  “Let us go! I will drain your life force!”

  Listening silently, Glen’s expression suggested he regarded their curses more as praise.

  “I advise conserving your strength,” he said in a low voice, “there’s more pain to come. Save it for later.” With that, he turned and walked away.

  The mages, growing weaker by the moment, were bewildered. Soon, faint rustling echoed around them.

  Rat-like creatures, neither fully rat nor entirely otherworldly, emerged from the dead leaves and tree. Sharp teeth glinting, they squeaked and swarmed the bound mages.

  In moments, an overwhelming horde had gathered, sending shivers down the spines of the terrified mages.

  They struggled violently, but the ropes were mysteriously unbreakable.

  As the first of the creatures climbed onto one mage, more followed.

  Piercing screams filled the air…

  …

  Having dealt with the malicious threat, Glen’s mood brightened considerably. Indeed, one’s own happiness mattered most.

  Continuing his journey, he reflected on the night’s events.

  He traveled straight through the night, occasionally passing strangers, mostly disguised as peasants, who glanced at him as one would at a beggar.

  Such glances mattered little to Glen.

  From the journey, it seemed this region lay on the kingdom’s periphery—otherwise, infrastructure wouldn’t be so backward. Finding a horse to buy was nearly impossible, much to Glen’s frustration.

  The ever-present need for manual carts had long irked him.

  As he neared the outskirts of Bayek, a lavish carriage approached from behind, slowing beside him.

  Without looking, Glen already knew who was inside.

  Sure enough, a fair-haired young woman pulled back the curtain. Her playful smile shone as she said, “Look, Mother, there’s a beggar in tattered rags—how pathetic!”

  Inside, a woman of noble bearing half-lidded her eyes, maintaining a slight tilt of her chin, as if ready to look down on anyone. Her voice was stern: “Pernas, don’t concern yourself with trivialities.”

  Pernas opened her mouth to reply, but Glen, pleasantly surprised, exclaimed:

  “Ah! Isn’t this the kind and generous Miss Pernas? Did you stop just to give me a ride? Wonderful! Do I climb in here? From this side? I’m coming…”