Dirty Tricks

"Go to hell!"

It was just too disgusting. Ergons still couldn't hold back. He pulled a siege crossbow from his inventory and fired it at the aquarium.

The siren was still wailing and babbling, never expecting anyone to be immune to his control.

The bolt punched straight through the siren's flat head, but it seemed not to have struck the vital point. Clearly, it hadn't killed him.

The siren let out an extremely shrill cry. At once, all the warriors and villagers who had been sharpening their blades turned their eyes toward Ergons.

Holy crap, that powerful?

He stowed one crossbow and replaced it with another already loaded with a taut string, then fired again at what was roughly the brainstem.

With a wet pop, the originally blue-green ripples suddenly surged out from the pierced brainstem.

The villagers and warriors charged Ergons. Seeing this, Ergons did not panic. He pulled out two large shields and planted them beside him, then darted backward and opened up some distance.

The enraged, controlled crowd knocked over the two shields. Lured by him, they ran out from the drying yard in front of the granary.

This estate was nowhere near as large as a castle. Apart from the main fortress, there was only the surrounding area, and the largest open space there was this drying yard. Everything else was either a warehouse or one of the dozens of homes.

So on the increasingly narrow roads, Ergons really did manage to keep them from catching him.

From time to time, he pulled out sacks of grain, large smoked hams, baskets of apples, and similar things to serve as obstacles for the people chasing him from behind.

He led the crowd farther and farther away from the drying yard.

That was because he had discovered that the farther these people got from the green ripples, the weaker their affected state seemed to become.

After running nearly halfway around the estate and reaching the outside of the castle, Adamson, who had been charging closest to him, finally seemed to recover.

Though Ergons didn't know whether it was because of his powerful physique or his simple mind, he was the only one who came to his senses.

He was still asking what was wrong, young master.

"What do you mean, what's wrong? Keep running, you lunatic!" Ergons dragged Adamson along. "See that fat man? The circus owner. Go drag him aside and beat him up first."

The siren's control was indiscriminate, so the circus owner and performers had been affected as well. They were all chasing him with inexplicable things like small knives and serving spoons in their hands.

Adamson nodded when he heard this. When they ran past a corner, he stood beside the wall and stopped following.

The dark mass of people chasing after Ergons like a train paid no attention to him, all of them focused on continuing the pursuit.

Once the circus owner passed by, Adamson yanked him around the corner, knocked the small knife from his hand, and slapped him hard across his fat face.

The blow struck with a bang and left him dizzy. Only then did he regain some clarity.

"Oh no, oh no! The siren has activated its Death Chant. What do we do?"

The circus owner did seem to know that the siren had such a move, but apparently there had originally been some means of controlling it, and that measure was now gone.

Adamson ignored his bitter cries, grabbed him by the neck, and asked, "Look at all the villagers, young and old. Is there any way to make them stop?"

The circus owner took one look at the out-of-control scene and became even more terrified. He quickly pointed at his swollen cheek.

"We have to treat them, or the mental influence will cause permanent damage. They might also collapse from exhaustion while running and die."

"Mm!"

Adamson slapped the circus owner unconscious again with the back of his hand, then grabbed a farmer at random and gave him a slap, followed by the next person.

From that point on, the whole procession broke apart. Since there was a physical treatment method, Adamson's simple, straightforward nature carried it out with complete thoroughness.

"This was just an accident!"

Half an hour later, the circus owner looked at the siren with two crossbow bolts sticking out of its head, feeling utterly heartbroken and miserable.

"I bought this siren half a year ago. There really isn't any conspiracy. We've traveled all over the Northern Ox Province, and everyone knows us. We couldn't possibly be up to anything."

"Kneel properly. Who told you to stand up?"

As the circus owner spoke, he tried to stand and plead with Ergons. But just as he began to rise with an ingratiating smile, Little Flax of the Gatehouse Trio kicked him, sending him sprawling back onto the ground.

Did it hurt to be kicked by a knight's pointed iron boots?

The circus owner only dared to rub his butt, remaining seated as he continued to force a smile.

The scene was truly absurd. The entire village, men and women, young and old, surrounded the drying yard, while the whole circus—people and animals alike—stood in the middle.

And, with remarkable uniformity, everyone except Ergons and Adamson had one swollen cheek.

The circus owner was the exception. Both of his cheeks had been slapped swollen.

"I'm about to set my army in motion, and I don't have time to determine whether you're actually innocent. So we'll settle this quickly. If your fate is bad, you can't blame anyone else."

After waiting a long time without receiving what he had expected, the young master reached his conclusion about the matter.

"No, wait! Uh—oh!"

The circus owner still wanted to explain, but the hunting crossbow in Ergons's hands moved faster. The instant he raised his hands and opened his mouth, a steel bolt pierced through his mouth and emerged from the back of his neck.

The demi-humans and animals surrounded in the middle were hacked apart by the villagers surrounding them. The scene was gruesome.

Yet none of those who took part felt the slightest discomfort. They felt nothing but satisfaction.

It had originally been a perfectly good circus, but then it had encountered such a disgraceful incident.

When the final scream came from the goblin's mouth before abruptly stopping, everything finally ended.

"Set fire to them and burn everything clean. The army leaves first thing tomorrow!"

After everything was arranged, recruits sent by the legion gathered the corpses and prepared to set them alight. But one soldier who was dragging over the circus owner's body suddenly shouted.

"Young master, this man has two faces!"

Ergons's attention was drawn over. He walked over to investigate, and the soldier presented the face-skin he had peeled from the corpse.

Held in his hand, the face-skin could still vaguely be recognized as belonging to the circus owner. But when they looked at the circus owner's face—

It had completely turned into the face of a stranger.

That was rather extraordinary.

He beckoned the young attendant over and had him identify it. Once the attendant confirmed that he had never seen the face before, the truth was essentially clear.

As expected, this had been a premeditated assassination attempt. Regardless of what its ultimate purpose had been—

Whether it was revenge or an attempt to uncover the secrets he carried—

This move had been truly underhanded. After all, the man had died with two faces. Ergons had to say, he felt rather offended.