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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 28
1.
The carriage came to a halt.
That was unusual. Until now, we’d only stopped to camp for the night.
‘It’s barely noon.’
As I was thinking that, Sanchez leaned toward the driver’s seat and asked.
“What’s going on?”
“I think you should come out and see for yourself.”
Mobin’s voice was unusually tense.
Sensing something was off, Sanchez opened the carriage door.
“I’ll go check what’s happening.”
I gave a slight nod, and Sanchez stepped outside.
I listened to the conversation between Mobin and Sanchez, and it didn’t take long to piece together what was going on.
‘Sounds like a bandit raid.’
There were plenty of bandits in my past life, too.
But back then, they stayed far away from dark mages. Fear kept them in line, so we rarely crossed paths.
‘Would they really try anything against a priest of the Holy Nation?’
From what I remembered, priests from the Holy Nation of Calios were notorious for their tenacity. They never forgot a slight and always paid their debts, no matter how small the offense.
Even dark mages knew better than to mess with them.
‘I’d imagine that reputation still holds in this era…’
As I was lost in thought, Sanchez returned.
He threw open the carriage door and addressed me.
“Priest, I think you’d better come take a look.”
I glanced at William, signaling him, and together we stepped out of the carriage.
We approached the hill where Mobin stood, and from there, we had a clear view of the scene below.
A thick forest stretched out, and beyond it loomed a massive mountain.
‘That must be Shadowpeak.’
Even after all this time, the name came back to me.
The first time I passed through here with my master, he’d personally pointed it out.
- That mountain’s called Shadowpeak. It’s crawling with bandits. There are so many of them, even the neighboring nations haven’t been able to wipe them out.
True to its name, the summit of the mountain was tinged in shades of black.
At night, it sometimes glowed a deep violet—a phenomenon said to be the work of the dark mages who lived in that region.
‘I wonder if they’re still around…’
Caught up in nostalgia, my thoughts drifted, until Sanchez walked up beside me and asked.
“What should we do about them?”
The direction he pointed revealed a line of carriages at the edge of the forest.
Even from a distance, their ornate decorations made them stand out—they clearly belonged either to nobility or a wealthy merchant guild.
Surrounding them was a dense group of people. From the looks of it, they were negotiating with bandits.
“They’re demanding a toll, it seems.”
“Should we just leave them alone?”
“And if we don’t, what exactly are we supposed to do?”
Sanchez looked momentarily blank at my question.
So, I walked him through the key points, step by step.
“Have bandits ever dared to touch the Holy Nation’s carriages?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then what’s the likelihood they’ll try robbing ‘us’?”
“Probably none.”
“Then why should we get involved?”
Honestly, even if the real Lyernoff were here, the answer would be the same. I could tell just from our brief conversations—for all his talk about justice and divine will, Lyernoff wasn’t some selfless crusader.
He’d never do anything that went against divine doctrine—but he wouldn’t lift a finger out of sheer sympathy, either.
Sanchez, though, clearly didn’t understand that side of him.
I stared at him, confused by his reaction. His face flushed red as he finally managed to speak.
“Um… Father. Innocent people are being preyed upon by bandits. Are you saying we should just stand by and watch?”
That’s when Nocturne quietly offered a suggestion.
- Do not meddle needlessly in the affairs of others. The God of Light, Calios, sees all—do not let your will disrupt His divine providence.
—From the Holy Teachings of Calios.
Perfect. I quoted it to Sanchez word-for-word.
The moment he heard it, his expression turned solemn.
Then I asked him calmly.
“Even so, do you still believe they should be saved?”
“…Yes.”
“Even if it goes against the teachings?”
“…Yes.”
His voice grew quieter with each answer, but internally, I was impressed.
‘So there ‘are’ people like him in the Holy Nation.’
He had the kind of untainted sincerity that hadn’t yet been spoiled by the rot I’d seen in Calios’s priest over the years.
In my past life and even now, I’ve had enough of their hypocrisy to last several lifetimes.
So I’d assumed they were all the same—but this guy was different.
He had the will to correct what he saw as wrong, even if it meant standing alone.
That’s when Equinox chimed in.
[How fortunate. Looks like the perfect opportunity to test out a new technique.]
I agreed.
A group of a hundred bandits would make ideal practice.
‘And this could bring me closer to Sanchez, too.’
Smiling inwardly, I turned to Sanchez, whose face was still tense.
“Are you sure you won’t regret this?”
“Regret? What do you mean…?”
He looked at me in confusion, eyes wide with worry.
I gave him a faint smile.
Just then, Nocturne slipped another perfect line into my mind.
Looking straight into Sanchez’s eyes, I recited it.
- It is foolish to judge before taking the first step. The will of God is found in the journey—so if you’re uncertain, then walk forward.
Sanchez’s eyes trembled.
“Father…”
“Let’s just move forward for now. We can decide whether it aligns with divine will as we go.”
“…Understood.”
Sanchez took off running and spoke urgently to Mobin.
Meanwhile, William and I casually returned to the carriage and took our seats.
Before long, the carriage began to move.
＊ ＊ ＊
The Blackleaf Merchant Guild, one of the three largest on the continent, faced a ridiculous situation today while passing through the forest road near Shadowpeak.
They found themselves surrounded by a group of bandits—despite having already agreed on a toll with a different group.
Garson, the head of the escort, protested to the large bandit blocking the road.
“Look at this document. It’s a written agreement signed earlier this year with your boss.”
“So what?”
“It clearly states the toll we agreed to pay your group.”
The agreement specified a toll of ‘5 gold coins per carriage’—a hefty sum.
Nevertheless, because of that document, Garson had paid them a total of ‘15 gold coins’.
But the bandits didn’t back down.
Even after accepting the heavy coin pouch Garson handed over, the large bandit didn’t order his men to stand down. Instead, he held out his hand again.
“You’ll need to cough up a bit more.”
“And why, exactly, should we do that?!”
“Because ‘I’ never made that deal with you.”
At those words, Garson flared up.
“Can’t you read? This agreement was signed with Mikael, the leader of the Shadowpeak Gang!”
“Ahhh… I don’t think you’re quite getting it.”
The large bandit picked his ear lazily with a thick index finger and slowly approached Garson. His massive build easily dwarfed him.
Looking down, the bandit continued.
“We’re not the Shadowpeak Gang. So whoever this ‘Mikael’ guy is, whatever deal you had with him—I don’t know him, and I don’t care.”
“…You bastards.”
Garson clenched his jaw and slowly stepped back, reaching into his coat.
What he pulled out was a signal flare—primitive gunpowder tech—something he’d received directly from Mikael when they signed the agreement. A warning flare, to be used in case they were attacked by ‘unauthorized’ thugs.
‘Can’t believe I’m actually using this.’
Without hesitation, Garson yanked the string.
BOOM—!
A loud blast echoed across the woods.
Garson looked around and shouted.
“That was a distress signal sent to Mikael! He’ll have seen it by now. You’d better run before the Shadowpeak Gang gets here. If you don’t—”
Thud.
Something rolled to his feet.
It was a human head.
An eyepatch. A long scar running down the right cheek.
Looking closer, Garson realized—it was Mikael’s.
His heart sank.
The large bandit in front of him grinned wide and spoke.
“Now do you get it?”
“......”
Garson fell silent, and the bandit went on.
“The Shadowpeak Gang is gone. It’s the Shadowfang Bandits now. And their new boss… is me—Volg.”
Garson looked at him.
A twisted grin stretched across Volg’s face, revealing a black, rotting fang—clearly the inspiration for the new gang name.
In the end, Garson had no choice but to approach the carriages and consult with the person in charge.
The one overseeing this shipment for the Blackleaf Merchant Guild was Ray, the merchant lord’s fourth son.
Of all the merchant lord’s sons, Ray was known for being the most delicate—and his face had gone pale.
“…Is it that bad?”
“It’s the worst-case scenario. Mikael’s been overthrown by another faction.”
“Then we’ll have to renegotiate the deal.”
He had been taught by his father how to handle situations like this on trade routes. Ray knew exactly what to do.
He turned to Garson and gave his instructions.
“Go ask them how much they want.”
“Yes, sir.”
Garson immediately walked up to Volg and asked.
“How much do you want for us to pass through here?”
Volg held up two fingers.
“Two more gold?”
Garson asked, trying to make sense of it.
“No.”
Volg slowly shook his head and continued.
“Twenty gold.”
“Then you mean just five more? I already gave you fifteen earlier.”
Tsk-Tsk-Tsk—
Volg shook his head again.
He glanced between the three carriages before finally opening his mouth.
“Twenty gold per carriage.”
“W-What?!”
It was an outrageous demand.
Garson had served as the Blackleaf Merchant Guild’s head of security for over a decade. In all his years traveling across the continent, never had he encountered a toll this absurd.
But the decision wasn’t his to make—and Volg knew it. With a subtle jerk of his chin, he pointed toward the carriage where Ray sat.
Garson had no choice but to return to Ray and report.
“Did you hear?”
“I did.”
“What should we do?”
Ray pushed up his glasses and fell silent for a moment in thought. Then he finally spoke.
“Sixty gold just for passage? Even if we complete the shipment, we’ll be in the red.”
“Then what do you intend…?”
Garson asked carefully. Ray locked eyes with him.
“Garson. Isn’t your swordsmanship supposed to be among the best on the continent?”
“…That’s true.”
“Then shouldn’t you be able to handle some petty bandits like them?”
Garson couldn’t deny it.
He was being paid top-tier wages by the Blackleaf Merchant Guild for a reason—his skill was legendary, ranked among the top ten swordsmen on the continent.
‘So it’s come to this.’
He gave Ray a final word of caution.
“Even if I win, we’re still outnumbered. We’ve only got twenty men. They have over a hundred.”
“They’re just bandits, not trained soldiers. Take out the leader and the rest will scatter. Our troops are well-trained, aren’t they?”
Ray’s expression brimmed with confidence.
He was trusting the worldview he’d been taught—the order of strength, the value of elite skill.
Garson nodded and stepped up in front of Volg.
Then he shouted.
“Volg! Let’s settle this one-on-one. If you beat me, we’ll pay your toll. But if I win, you let us pass—no charge!”
It was an absurd proposal, but for Garson, it was the best card he could play.
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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