“I’m not angry…”

  I grunted, pulling myself out from under the wreckage. I have so many questions I wanted to ask. Where did they get a piano from, and why was it perched over the door?

  I dusted myself off, plopping down on the throne. Speaking of which, where did they get that from? They have great taste in decor though, as there is no shortage in paintings and the like salvaged from the bandit camps.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t sweat it. See, my wounds are already healed.”

  Even a wanderer needs a home to return to. In my case, an abandoned, renovated temple hidden in the remote wilderness, once full of life before being retaken by nature. Traces of infrastructure such as abandoned villages could still be found.

  It all began one blustery morning when I was testing my magic out in the forest.

  The Great Forest is outside the jurisdiction of any nation, and as such, it was infested with all sorts of unsavory characters. Brigands, bandits, Cultists, you name it. But to me, it’s the perfect place to call home. The number one killer of long-lived creatures was boredom—eventually, one would be tempted to go to war or do something stupid and get themself killed or jailed.

  They also make for prime target practice.

  At the moment, I was testing out the possibility of construct magic on a bandit camp.

  It seemed that sharp objects such as spears, swords, and spikes, were the most efficient to construct. Not only did it cost far less blood to utilize, but they also made for far cleaner shots.

  Allow me to explain this world's magic.

  Magic was split into two broad categories : internal, and external.

  Most people focus on internal, augmenting their body with magic. It’s generally harder to cast external magic, as it requires precise control over ambient mana, forming attacks out of thin air. Without a staff to channel the mana, it would rapidly dissipate and lose power before you could even cast the spell.

  Hemomancy bridges the two. By drawing on one’s own blood as a medium, it bypasses the drawbacks of ambient magic, allowing for rapid casting and power at the cost of your vitality.

  I leaped out of the trees into the middle of the camp, facing the leader head on. Everyone knows that you save the best for last, the dessert after the main course.

  “Were you the one who ambushed us?”

  I glanced around. “I don’t see anyone else here…?”

  He started to laugh maniacally, pressing his hand to his face. “Remember the day you die to the Black-eyed Bees.”

  They were all dressed in a ridiculous fuzzy yellow and black costume, resembling a bumblebee. I suppose branding is important for recruiting for a criminal organization.

  He adjusted his cat-eye glasses, before charging towards me with antennas fluttering in the wind. His attack fell short, completely missing me although I was standing still.

  I frowned. Did he really expect that to work? He kept leaping backwards and dashing forward, as if afraid to get hit.

  I suppose criminals don’t have access to free healthcare.

  Sweat rolled down his face as his sword was sliced cleanly in half.

  “Interesting,” I murmured.

  I flicked him away with my fingers, sending him crashing into a tree, which collapsed on top of him.

  Blood was highly mana-conductive. By coating the tip of my arming sword with tainted blood, I could manipulate it mid-fight to surprise my enemies.

  The bandit boss suddenly started violently convulsing, his eyes bloodshot and rolling into the back of his head.

  “Don’t get in a fight if you don’t want to get hurt.”

  I sheathed my blade. Poison was wildly effective, as doctors are rare. Potions are considered luxuries, as their brewing recipes are tedious, requiring immense effort to collect its requisite ingredients.

  I started to search the camp for loot. This was my secondary objective. I had nowhere near enough money to be set for the rest of my life, such is the curse of an immortal.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Hmmm.”

  Spices? Meh, I could live without them. Art and fine china were unfeasible to carry and sell so that’s out of the question too. Not much gold on them either. Damn, what criminal doesn’t carry money?

  I lifted open the leader’s tent, revealing several cramped cages, each holding a child, draped over with a beige tarp.

  I sliced through the bars, setting them free.

  Rare races, especially children, would fetch a high price in the black market, as a potent sacrifice for whatever wicked god they believe. These were no mere superstitions. A good sacrifice would genuinely bring a good harvest, so it’s acceptable though frowned upon.

  One tugged on my sleeve. “We don’t have anywhere else to go…”

  I sighed. “I guess I could play babysitter…”

  I suppose I could postpone the search for a few decades. After all, what is time to an immortal? She would kill me if I left these children in these woods…

  And that’s how it all started.

  Our organization swelled in number as we cleansed the forest of criminals, as I kept taking them in like stray animals.

  I swirled a glass of beet juice in my wine glass, holding back a grimace. They saw me drink blood once and all of a sudden everyone is doing juice cleanses. I’d rather not burst their little bubbles, though. I made a mental note to purchase tableware. We use whatever we find after raids, but this is far too fancy, and it gets me nervous.

  Today is another one of those days. As our numbers grew, there was only more work to do.

  Myne, a tanned beastchild with glowing golden eyes, handed me a map just after I felled yet another armored bear monster. They roam the forest and hunt in groups, though they make for an excellent source of crafting materials and food.

  “We’ve discovered an illegal auction scheduled for the next full moon, in the territory of Baron O’Lee. We respectfully request your authorization and support to intercept the cargo before the exchange.”

  I guess it could be fun.

  “Go ahead,” I said with a curt nod. “Rally the others. I shall act on my own to uh, for reconnaissance!”

  “As expected of our boss.”

  A perfect excuse to sneak off and do my own thing! I’m sure that they’re more than capable enough on their own to complete this raid without my interference. Fortunately, there is no child labor laws yet, or I’ll definitely be going to prison.

  I yawned. “I’m all tuckered out after hunting. Help me drag the game back to our base.”

  “Understood.”

  …

  I took a deep breath, inhaling the cool night air. It’s nice to travel like this sometimes. I raised my lantern, struggling to make out the figures in the darkness. I gently pulled on the reins, signalling the horses to slow.

  “Halt. Identify yourselves, traveller.”

  Jeez, loosen up, I’m not going to bite… Maybe.

  I coughed softly. “I am an earl hailing from the far North, in the distant lands of Canadia,” I said in a deep voice. “My dear friend, Baron Brock, personally invited me.”

  The other sentry leaned in, whispering into his ear. He nodded, then turned back to me.

  “We can’t seem to find your name on the guest list…”

  I raise my hand to silence Myne, who was seething in anger.

  “I apologize on behalf of my retainer. Please, accept this as a token of apology.”

  I carefully retrieved several gold coins, pressing them into their calloused hands.

  “Very well,” the sentry said with a stern voice. “You may pass.”

  Escorts led us beyond the castle walls. The poor excuse of an illusion was quickly dispelled.

  At the entrance of the tunnel, we were given animal masks to disguise our identities. We were then blindfolded and led down to the auction area, similar to an amphitheater. Guards stood at every exit, dressed like Olive Garden employees. A few nobles were engaging in idle chatter, waiting for the auction to begin.

  Ding-dong!

  Ding-dong!

  As the last few participants began to settle into their seats, a bell rang to signal the start of the auction.

  The first few items were of little importance. I adjusted the accoutrement nose and glasses. I tapped my foot impatiently. So far, the auction was quite tame. Random tomes and high-grade were quickly bidded on and sold.

  After that, the auction quickly gained momentum. I did some probing bids here and there to appear interested, though none were of much interest to me.

  Suddenly, a large explosion occurred. The room shuddered as dust and debris fell all around me, a stray rock twacking me on the head.

  Ah, that must be them. Rubbing at the rapidly forming goose egg, I reached for my blade, before pausing.

  “...?”

  I was snapped out of my trance as Myne deflected a stray arrow. Blades clashed as the intruders made their way through the amphitheater.

  The Olive Garden employees quickly formed a barricade, unsheathing their swords to protect the guests. Service industry workers are no joke.

  …

  Wait… Isn’t that… Joseph? Alongside the Knight Order.

  I slung my suit jacket over my shoulder and cracked my knuckles.

  “A wonderful idea, we should help in the rescue!”

  “No, you stay back. Leave and meet up with the others, I’ll handle this myself.”

  She tilted her head in puzzlement, then slowly nodded and left.

  I got a bone to pick with these guys. Always showing up and screwing up my plans. I had been disarmed before joining the auction, but this would do. I picked up a dropped sword, jumping into the fray.

  As long as the Knight Order was here, there was no chance of the auction continuing. Wait actually, the employees got it in the bag. I almost wanted to help the Knight Order. Their performance was quite poor, as expected. Starting a small fire, I began to roast a marshmallow.

  “Dude, c’mon just leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m eating?”

  I parried the confused knight with the sword. He screamed as a bit of the melted sugars got into his helmet, at which point my foot planted squarely into his chest. He flew across the room, denting the stone wall.

  Sloppy. If I hadn't already felt the cold weight of his killing intent, his raspy war cry definitely gave it away. Maybe he would have a chance If I was deaf and blind. I mean, what’s with people feeling the need to have a war cry and giving dumb names to every attack? I’ve never liked full body armor for that reason either—too loud and heavy. Been a while since I had been properly ambushed.

  “Tsk. Now where are my graham crackers…”

  I watched as the Knight Order got mowed down. Not much of a knight captain if you ask me, it's closer to a mcdojo for unwanted noble children. For generations, the issue of nepotism plagued the kingdom, filling the Knight Order with useless 6th childrens of nobles or whatever. It’s smart though. I’m sure that bastard receives plenty of capital, living a lavish lifestyle. How envious.

  “Psss. Psssss!”

  I glanced upwards, flashing a smile. It seemed that they made it. Then suddenly, an uninvited 4th party crashed into the room. At this point, I was more confused than annoyed. Do these people have no manners? And how does one crash into the underground??

  I coughed, waving away the dust. It appeared that he or she crashed straight through the floor of the wooden stage. I snorted, before turning back to my marshmallows.

  “Burnt again…”

  My expression fell. I’m out of marshmallows.

  The unknown 4th party pulled themselves out of the hole, though he was quickly knocked back down by the now swarming Olive Garden employees. I winced a little at their viciousness. That’s got to hurt…

  “I’ll get you next time!!” I’ll be back, just you wait!” Joseph shouted, shaking his fist.

  I snickered. “Sure buddy.”

  “I don’t lose, I never lose! I simply failed to win! Now, for my heroic retreat…”

  Somersaulting through the air, I landed on his back, pinning him to the ground. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Ow ow ow ow o- would you knock it off?!”