The Tin Knight-Chapter 14: The Tin Knight and The City of Pleasure (8)

Colombo was a villain.

He was vicious, despicable, and shameless enough to suck sweet honey from others’ misfortunes without feeling any guilt.

Yet, despite being such a terrible man, people gathered around Colombo.

While Colombo’s personality could hardly be called excellent even as a courtesy, his abilities were outstanding.

Colombo had excellent eloquence.

He also had a keen eye for digging into others’ weaknesses.

And above all, he commanded overwhelming strength, dominating the bandits in the surrounding area.

The bluish energy flowing from the curved sword he wielded was proof of Colombo’s power.

Sword energy.

The name varied depending on the region, and there were some differences in principles or distinctions of levels, but the basic concept remained similar.

Strengthening weapons through mana.

Its effectiveness was such that it allowed a person to cleave through huge logs or boulders just by swinging a blade.

Metal was no exception, although there were some differences depending on the thickness.

This was why Colombo inwardly sneered at the sight of the Tin Knight in plate armor.

You must have been excited rampaging against my subordinates. I’ll shatter that arrogance.

Armor that covered the entire body with metal plates was certainly a powerful weapon in itself.

It allowed the wearer to weather head-on blows from most weapons while unilaterally cutting down opponents.

However, those with a certain level of skill rarely favored plate armor.

For those skilled enough to handle sword energy, slicing through thin metal plates wasn’t particularly difficult, and if the armor was made thick enough to withstand sword energy, its weight made movement a hardship.

It was invincible against the weak, but useless against true strong ones—a gauge for measuring one’s skill.

This was the general perception of plate armor.

The shield mounted to the Tin Knight’s left arm was also one of the reasons Colombo underestimated his opponent.

Well-made metal armor was sufficient to serve the purpose of a shield.

As it had enough defense to withstand most frontal assaults, utilizing both hands for offense was far more efficient than unnecessarily holding a shield.

In fact, the knights of Colombo’s homeland in the central continent, famous for its abundance of strong individuals, tended to prefer large and heavy two-handed swords over one-handed swords and shields.

To Colombo, who grew up watching such knights, the sight of the Tin Knight equipped with not only sturdy armor but a useless shield felt like the cowardice of someone too afraid for even minor wounds.

Clang!

Colombo’s blade, swung with full force, easily cut the Tin Knight’s sword in two.

Rejoicing at the predictable outcome, Colombo followed through, adding momentum to his blade.

He intended to sever the Tin Knight’s sword-wielding arm.

Crack.

Colombo’s eyes widened.

The curved sword he swung had certainly cut the Tin Knight’s right arm.

The problem was that while Colombo had thought of “cutting” as “completely severing”, the actual result only managed to cut about half of the forearm.

What was more concerning was the sensation.

It didn’t feel like metal plates wrapping flesh and blood—but as if the entire arm was made of metal.

“This bastard wasn’t human...?!”

Thwack!

The Tin Knight’s low kick struck Colombo.

It was a force that would have shattered the leg bones of an ordinary person, but for Colombo, who had strengthened his body with mana, it was an attack he could barely endure.

However, he couldn’t prevent his posture from being disrupted.

Before Colombo could correct his posture, the edge of the Tin Knight’s shield was driven into his side.

“Guh!”

Colombo’s mouth was forcibly opened, instinctually reeling.

The Tin Knight clasped both hands together, then struck down on Colombo’s head, which had come down to a convenient position.

Even in this situation, Colombo tried to roll to the side and regain his fighting stance, but the Tin Knight had no intention of letting Colombo go.

He had to take the boss’ head before the time limit ended.

The Tin Knight was the type who wasn’t satisfied unless he meticulously cleared every side quest.

The Tin Knight’s left foot stomped on Colombo’s chest, forcibly fixing him in place.

Shortly after, a devastating right knee came crashing down on Colombo’s neck.

Crunch.

Along with the sound of neck bones being crushed, Colombo’s eyes bulged.

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Colombo’s hand groped the air as if trying to grasp something... only to fall helplessly to the ground with a thud.

The Tin Knight quietly stood up, then forcibly pulled out the curved sword embedded in his right arm.

No blood flowed.

Through the cracks, the inside of the arm was densely packed with what looked like metal mechanical devices.

The Tin Knight examined it briefly in a moment of curiosity, but soon lost interest and scanned the surroundings.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Damn it, I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you over and over again!!”

It was a bizarre scene.

Some crawled on the floor, desperately trying to escape, while others clutched their heads and repeated the same words, and then there were those who wildly swung their swords, soaking themselves in their comrades’ blood.

Dorothea approached the puzzled Tin Knight.

She looked at Colombo’s corpse with its crushed neck, then said with a slightly admiring tone, “You really killed him within 10 seconds. And he even used sword energy.”

[The 'Tin Knight' asks if sword energy exists here too!]

“I don’t know what you mean by ‘here too’, but didn’t you experience sword energy directly with your body? I don’t know why someone who could use such a thing was just doing banditry though.”

Although the answer was a bit different from what he expected, the Tin Knight accepted it.

With magic and magic-powered dolls existing, it made sense that sword energy would exist too.

Above all, the lingering memory from his body being struck was stirring, giving him the intuition that he could do it too if he tried.

The Tin Knight pointed at the surrounding bandits.

[The 'Tin Knight' asks why they're acting like that!]

Dorothea shrugged her shoulders.

“I asked the nearby souls to whisper a few words to them. There were plenty of souls volunteering to pounce on the bandit bastards, you know?”

[The 'Tin Knight' wonders why Dorothea didn't use such a convenient technique when they were being chased the first time!]

“The order is reversed. That experience led me to prepare magic that could deal with multiple opponents. Carrying all the catalysts for each spell is quite the hassle, you know?”

Grumbling slightly, Dorothea then squatted down and approached Colombo’s corpse.

The appearance of the corpse with its crushed neck was truly miserable, but Dorothea’s expression as she placed her hand on the corpse’s head was infinitely indifferent.

“■■■■■”

In a pronunciation difficult for the Tin Knight to understand, Dorothea began reciting a long incantation.

“You, you bastard. What did you do to the boss—guh!”

A few bandits, seemingly freed from the illusion, glared and lunged at them periodically, becoming new achievements for the Tin Knight’s exploits.

The sharpness of the weapon obtained from defeating the boss, “Colombo’s Curved Sword”, which was named on the spot, satisfied the Tin Knight.

How much time passed like that?

Finally, Dorothea’s incantation came to an end.

And.

Twitch!

Colombo’s body, which was clearly dead, began to twitch.

The Tin Knight’s body also twitched in response.

[The 'Tin Knight' cheers, asking if it's a phase 2 boss!]

Even without a complete understanding of the exact meaning of words, people had the ability to infer content through context.

Dorothea, roughly grasping what the Tin Knight was trying to say, shook her head.

“I’m not telling you to fight, so drop it. Also, bring over the guys you cut down.”

The Tin Knight, though disappointed, stacked up the corpses as Dorothea said.

Objectively, it was a truly gruesome sight, but neither the Tin Knight nor Dorothea seemed to notice.

They were truly a master and servant of the same feather.

***Willem, a member of Colombo’s bandit group, was running through the streets with an urgent expression.

Damn it, we’re screwed.

It all started when he spotted a knockout beauty to his taste in a tavern.

He was dying to hit on her right away, but it was clear that if he started working on her while with his bastard comrades present, it would end miserably whether he succeeded or failed.

Since most of his comrades were in a drunken state anyway, Willem boldly initiated solo action.

It was against the second-in-command’s order to always stick together, but Willem didn’t care much.

Originally, for any kind of business, it was fine as long as one didn’t get caught.

Willem’s bold venture was successful, and after having a good time, Willem secretly returned to the inn before his comrades woke up.

After that, Willem had been on cloud nine, but when he saw that not a single one of his comrades remained at the inn, an ominous feeling crept over him.

When the innkeeper informed him that his comrades had rushed to the headquarters where the boss and second-in-command were staying, the sense of foreboding grew stronger.

Damn it, did they find out about my solo action? Did the second-in-command crackdown on our entire team for not managing personnel properly?

He even thought about running away right then and there, but Willem eventually headed to the headquarters.

If the situation was as he expected, he would get beaten up terribly after returning, but if he ran away wrongly here, he might lose his head instead of just getting beaten.

Praying desperately that this situation wasn’t related to him, Willem ran hard.

To put it bluntly, Willem’s prayer was answered.

“The slaves were all taken?”

“Yeah, some monster bastards invaded...”

The situation he heard from a comrade he usually got along with was as followed:

An unidentified knight and his group invaded the headquarters, killed the second-in-command, and stole the slaves.

The boss, who returned from the castle, saw the disaster and gathered the guys to exact vengeance, but because the other side used some strange magic, everyone hallucinated and fainted.

“Hallucinations? What on earth was it?”

“Ugh, damn. Don’t ask, it’s coming back to me. Anyway, it was horrible. Thankfully, those bastards didn’t seem to want to make things bigger, so they just showed us hallucinations and left. If we had been attacked while unconscious, ugh, it gives me goosebumps.”

“So nobody died, right?”

“Yeah. But we might see something worse next time, so the boss’ order is to not mess with that knight or the slaves and just cover up this incident. You better remember that.”

“The second-in-command and the guys died, but the boss gave such an order?”

Willem didn’t understand at first glance.

The boss he knew was certainly a cruel and evil man, but he was at least a leader who fiercely protected his own people.

Willem couldn’t believe that such a boss had made a declaration of surrender after being so one-sidedly defeated.

“Then what can we do? We can’t all die by charging at monsters. The boss must have had no choice. And besides...”

The comrade, who had been cautiously looking around, whispered in Willem’s ear, “Even though we lost the other slaves, it seems the most valuable slave that the boss took to the castle was sold for an extremely high price. They say that after that slave is sold at auction in a few days and the contract is finalized, there will be a grand reward for the members. Since our numbers have decreased a lot due to this incident, won’t the share for each person increase?”

Only after hearing this could Willem understand the strange atmosphere permeating among the bandit group members.

It was certainly humiliating to have been beaten by outsiders and be forced to turn a blind eye without being able to take revenge.

But thinking about the benefits they would gain from it, it wasn’t all bad.

So everyone must have obediently followed the boss’ orders.

But is this really okay?

While feeling relieved that he wouldn’t get beaten up immediately, a question remained in a corner of Willem’s mind.

After all, handling this situation in such a manner would inevitably shatter the sense of unity and belonging of the entire bandit group.

In the end, a trend would develop where individuals would only care about their own gain with no regard for whether their comrades lived or died.

While that might be common in other bandit groups, it was a fatal loss for Colombo’s bandit group, which had been developing a sense of belonging centered around the boss and second-in-command.

More importantly, it was clear that there would be a tremendous wound to the authority of Colombo, the boss.

The bandits would still follow him, but they would no longer revere or serve him sincerely like before.

The boss I know would rather charge in regardless of how scary the opponent is than see such a sight.

Willem peeked at the boss sitting with some executive-level members in a corner of the headquarters.

The boss’ eyes were extremely empty.

He seemed to be deep in thought, or conversely, completely vacant.

Not only the boss but also the executives were all keeping silent without saying a word, making the surrounding atmosphere endlessly gloomy.

Suddenly, Willem noticed that the boss was wearing a scarf.

The sight of him completely wrapping his neck in a season that wasn’t particularly cold struck him as old.

Moreover, the boiling-like heat that used to be felt just by looking at him seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

“Don’t the boss and executives seem to be in a bad state?”

To Willem’s question, his comrade answered as if it was obvious, “It would be stranger if they were fine in this situation.”

“Indeed,” Willem nodded.

Thinking about it coolly, he didn’t have the loyalty to seriously worry about the future of the bandit group or the boss’ condition.

They were bandits, after all.