Although the people of this land had healing magic to recover from most life-threatening wounds, cutting off their breathing would leave them unable to cast spells. At that point, the body’s natural weakness would take over.
With one of the men incapacitated, Zig picked up the dagger he dropped and threw it at the man he had flung earlier.
“Gyah!”
The dagger plunged deep into the man’s thigh as he was getting up. He tumbled back with a scream.
Zig was about to close in for the kill when he smelled magic in the air. The remaining man threw two ice blades, though with a slight delay between them, in a cross pattern to try and rip Zig to shreds. He leaned over to dodge the vertical ice blade and jumped over the horizontal one.
“Gotcha!”
The man was waiting for Zig to jump and activated his bracelet that was actually a magic item. It produced a stone spear without casting and he hurled it at Zig when he landed.
“Tch!”
He would’ve been able to deflect it if he’d had his twinblade, but there was no use crying about something he didn’t have.
Zig put up his gauntlet to block it and barely kept himself from falling because of the impact. The gauntlet made an unsettling noise, but it managed to protect him. He ignored his ragged breathing and avoided a second shot before kicking a chair he found nearby.
The chair flew toward the man’s arm, messing up his aim.
Just as the man was about to use his magic item again…
“—Ah.”
Zig came right at him.
He charged, right elbow pointing like a spear. The destructive force of Zig’s speed and weight snapped the man like a twig as he ran straight into the shack’s wall. He broke through the wooden wall until a stone fence finally stopped him.
Sandwiched between Zig’s elbow and the stone fence, the man’s neck was bent at a funny angle. He was dead.
“Phew… Unarmed combat is tough.”
Killing someone with his bare hands took some effort. He needed to take the initiative and go at his enemies with full force. If he had a blade, on the other hand, all he needed was a well-placed thrust. Zig had trained himself in unarmed combat, but he still preferred to be armed. Bare-handed fighting was simply inefficient.
Zig sighed, missing the comforting weight on his back, and looked around. He appeared to be in some kind of slum. He was surrounded by dilapidated houses… Or rather, shabby tents with trash littered on the streets. Among the garbage was unidentified food waste—not exactly a safe neighborhood to be in. The rats here were fat from feasting on it.
“Doesn’t look like I’m in Halian…”
Halian wasn’t exactly the paragon of safety, but nothing there was as bad as this.
“St-stop! Don’t come any closer!”
A cry of fear had Zig looking over at the man with the dagger sticking out of his thigh. He had let him live in order to get information out of him. The man was now trying to escape. However, he was dragging his legs, trying to get away from someone else.
Malnourished vagrants—and there were many of them. More seemingly came out of nowhere, increasing their numbers. They pursued the man, albeit slowly, clearly hampered by their lack of nutrition.
However, they were still faster than the man who only had one working leg. And there were too many of them.
“Back off, I’m warning you! Aaah!” the man shouted at his pursuers. He then tripped on something. He fell over, holding onto his injured leg, and saw the garbage that caused his downfall.
“Eegh!”
With sunken eyes and hungry, gaping mouths, the silent creatures seemed to welcome their new companion.
The vagrants caught up to the man.
The man did his best to fend them off, batting a few away in the process. But that was all he could do; there were simply too many of them. No matter how strong you were, it didn’t matter if your legs were out of commission. It was a fate that could befall both a mercenary and a mobster.
“Gyaaaaah!”
One of the vagrants grabbed the dagger in the man’s leg and twisted it. He screamed in pain, the action further slowing him down. The other vagrants started digging into their prey’s wound, draining his strength. When he stopped moving, they started eating. These men seemed to be scavengers who preyed on the weak.
“Not a peaceful way to go out.”
Zig couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the man as the vagrants stripped him of all his possessions. Not being able to extract information out of him was unfortunate, but this was not something he enjoyed watching.
“Even war zones don’t have it this bad… Hm?”
Zig felt someone looking at him and looked up to see the vagrants dragging their fresh kill away.
Perhaps it was their lack of presence, but Zig’s eyes now locked with those of the vagrants.
They stopped. Although Zig was injured, he was still too fit to be considered prey. The vagrants looked at Zig like a frog looking at a despicable snake.
“Leave the bangle,” Zig said, pointing to the magic item. “Do what you want with the rest.”
The vagrants fearfully made their move. They slowly removed the bangle and put it on the ground, dragging the man away while casting cautious glances at Zig.
Zig heaved a sigh at the eeriness of it all.
“Damn, I didn’t think this place would be that bad…”
He picked up the bangle and returned to the shack so he could figure out what to do next.
The man with the crushed windpipe was gone. Not only that, but his broken gauntlet and indigo adamantine coin had also disappeared.