Frieren: Understand Humans, Aura!

The bandits had been keeping an eye on this mountain village for a long time.

Even though the village was connected to the outside world by roads, the only mountain that might have blocked carts and horses had seemingly collapsed due to an earthquake.

If they wanted, they could pack up and relocate to a nearby town. It wouldn't take much—just a few days to build new homes on the outskirts, far from the dangers of the mountains. Their lives would be far more convenient, with access to merchants and easier trade. And yet, the villagers refused. They clung stubbornly to their rugged land, as if it held some unspoken value that outsiders couldn't understand.

What was even stranger was that, despite their remote location, the village wasn't poor. The villagers weren't starving. Every year, they sent large shipments of grain to the town, trading with various merchants. Their living conditions were more than comfortable for people who rarely saw outsiders.

A village so isolated, yet so wealthy. It was the perfect target for bandits.

The Bass Mountain gang had been the first to notice the potential prize. They'd been watching the village for weeks, waiting for the right moment. Now, two squad leaders, each commanding a group of ten bandits, had been sent ahead as the vanguard to scout the area.

One of the squad leaders, a man with a thick, crooked nose and a scar running down his cheek with short figure, was fuming. "They actually dared to reject us?! How dare they! Do they really think their little village's terrain can stop cavalry?"

His companion, a tall man with sharp, calculating eyes, raised an eyebrow. "I told you, we needed to talk to them first. But no, you just had to shoot an arrow at one of their villagers the moment you saw them. Of course, they think we're here to slaughter them."

"Bah! So what if they resist? They're just farmers, armed with sickles and hoes. What do they know of fighting? They've never spilled blood before in their lives. Do they honestly think their farming tools can stand against us?"

"They didn't just run, did they? They fought back. We're hiding here now, aren't we?" The tall man's tone was sharp, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "I've been telling you not to underestimate them. Even a scythe can cut deep if it's in the hands of someone desperate."

The first bandit spat on the ground, scoffing. "It's nothing but blind courage. Those peasants have no armor, no training, no horses. We easily scattered them. That's the end of it."

"Don't be so sure," the wiry man said quietly, his voice tense. "You're underestimating them again. Even if we have the better weapons, there's no reason to waste lives over this. If they're not afraid of us, that's not normal. We should wait for reinforcements."

The short squad leader threw up his hands in frustration. "Reinforcements? You're hesitating now? We're sitting here with the perfect opportunity to finish it. We'll burn the village, kill everyone, and be done with it."

"Don't rush into it," the tall man urged. "I have a bad feeling about this. Once we regroup with the others, we'll head back to the stronghold for reinforcements. We'll need at least three more squads. With fifty men, we'll have a sure victory."

"You think they're dangerous?" The first bandit let out a low laugh. "What, do you think they're hiding some kind of magic or power we don't know about? We've raided countless villages. None of them ever dared to resist. There's nothing special about these people."

"You didn't see their eyes," the wiry man muttered, voice low. "They weren't afraid. And that's what worries me. It reminded me of those zealots we've crossed paths with before. But unlike them, these villagers—they believe something can destroy us. And that's dangerous."

"Enough of this nonsense!" The short bandit's face twisted in irritation. "I'm done listening to you. I'll gather the others and charge back in. You want reinforcements? Go back to the stronghold yourself." He unsheathed his sword with a fierce motion, his voice crackling with fury. "We'll burn the place down, kill them all. And that will be the end of it."

"Don't split up! The chief's orders—wait—" The wiry man's warning was cut off as he tensed, his sharp eyes flicking to the side. "Someone's coming."

Both men froze, senses on high alert. The sound of branches cracking underfoot echoed in the still air. They instinctively drew their swords, tightening their grips on their shields, waiting. The rustling grew louder.

"Stay low," the wiry man muttered, voice barely a whisper. "It could be an ambush."

The first bandit glared into the darkness, eyes narrowing. "Whoever it is, we'll deal with them the same way we deal with everyone else."

But the tall squad leader didn't reply. Instead, his focus was entirely on the sound growing nearer.

After a brief moment of rustling in the underbrush, a figure emerged from the woods. A girl, with purple hair, draped in a cloak that barely concealed her slender frame, stepped into the clearing.

"Huh?" one of the bandit squad leaders muttered, blinking in surprise.

The two bandits relaxed, letting out simultaneous sighs of relief. They had expected it to be a group of angry villagers, perhaps armed with sickles, chasing them down. While the bandits weren't afraid of a one-on-one confrontation, the idea of facing a dozen or more villagers, all wielding makeshift weapons, would have been overwhelming—even with their superior armor and well-maintained weapons.

But it wasn't a group. It was just a girl.

The tall and short squad leaders exchanged amused glances. They couldn't help but smirk at the sight of the young girl, who stood in the clearing looking completely out of place in such a hostile environment. Her bright, innocent eyes and fragile frame made it obvious: she was no threat. She probably didn't even know what a bandit was.

"Look at her," the short leader chuckled. "She's probably never seen a sword before, let alone know how to use one. She looks like she'll freeze up the moment we draw ours. A pretty little thing like that's no threat."

The tall leader raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his eyes fixed on the girl. She seemed completely clueless, perhaps lost. No sign of aggression, no hint of danger. He could almost smell her fear, though she hadn't yet shown it. The wind carried the scent of fresh innocence, naive and unknowing.

The short leader cracked his knuckles, his lips curling into a grin. "She won't even see it coming." His hand twitched toward his sword. "I'll kill this little brat first to vent my anger!"

But before he could take a step forward, the tall leader's hand shot out, stopping him.

"You're an idiot," the tall leader said, voice low but firm. "Harming a child? She's no threat to us. Look at her—she's just a girl. She's probably got no idea what's going on. Besides," he said with a glint in his eyes, "she's pretty. We could capture her and sell her. That would fetch us a good price, don't you think?"

The short leader scoffed, his anger flaring. "You're always hesitating, aren't you? When that villager killed one of our brothers, I swore we wouldn't spare any of them. Money, money, money—that's all you care about! How can you even think of leading if you're too scared to act when the time comes? You're pathetic!"

The tall leader's lips curled into a sneer. "Killing? What's that going to get us? Nothing. Sure, we get blood on our swords, but what about after? Weapons, armor, food, horses? Captives are worth more than blood. If we sell them as slaves, we can buy everything we need. Killing her is just a waste."

"Stop babbling about money!" the short leader spat, his voice rising. "What's the use of slaves if they're all dead? I'll kill whoever I want, whenever I want, and no one is going to stop me, least of all you!"

The tall leader's eyes narrowed, his patience thinning. "You're a fool. I've had enough of your reckless ways. If it weren't for the chief, I'd be leading this group myself. You're nothing but a brainless brute who thinks killing will solve everything!"

The two bandits stood face-to-face, locked in a tense, heated exchange. But then, there was a sudden, sharp sound—something like the cracking of a twig underfoot. The tall leader's words froze in his throat.

Before he could even react, the short leader's body was jerked backward with brutal speed. His head snapped around, his neck twisted so violently that it gave a sickening crack. Blood erupted in a spray, splattering the ground and the tall leader in a crimson shower. The short leader's decapitated head flew through the air, landing with a soft thud in the grass.

The tall leader stood frozen, his mouth agape in shock, his body stiff with disbelief.

Aura stood calmly in front of him, her posture relaxed, as if she hadn't just torn the other bandit apart. She tilted her head slightly, the corners of her lips curling into a soft smile.

"Go on," she said, her voice light and almost playful. "Keep talking."

She hadn't even broken a sweat. In one smooth motion, she had grabbed the short leader by the neck with one hand and his shoulder with the other. A quick twist and rip had done the job, exposing the delicate bone of his spine. The tall leader could only watch in horror as the lifeless body crumpled to the ground, blood still gushing from the open wound.

Aura's eyes flicked to the tall leader as she bent down, inspecting the severed head with a curious glance before tossing it aside carelessly.

"I've been listening to your little argument for a while," she said, her tone sweet and casual. "But since you couldn't make up your mind, I thought I'd help you decide."

With a fluid motion, she turned to the corpse, crouching down to drink deeply from the gaping wound in the short leader's neck. Blood spilled into her mouth, and she savored the taste, her eyes closing in satisfaction.

Blood still dripping from her lips, Aura raised her head, her expression impossibly sweet and innocent, a soft smile curving her lips as if she hadn't just ripped a man's head off.

"If you're all dead," she said, her voice soft yet chilling, "there'll be no need to argue about who to kill or sell."

The tall squad leader's eyes widened in abject horror. He stumbled backward, the words stuck in his throat, his face contorting with terror as he let out a high-pitched, panicked scream.

"Ah… ahhh… ahhhhh!!!"

He scrambled across the ground on all fours, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his skin pale and clammy as dread washed over him. Every movement he made felt desperate, as though he could outrun the death that had already sealed his fate. But it was no use. Aura moved forward, her presence looming over him like a dark, inevitable storm.

"Please! Please—don't—!"

With a sickening thud, the tall leader fumbled to grab his crossbow, his trembling hands barely able to load it as his mind spiraled into panic. He aimed wildly, and with a fearful gasp, fired directly at Aura's head.

Whoosh!

In an instant, Aura was there. She moved like lightning, her arm outstretched as her fingers closed around the arrow mid-flight, stopping it with eerie precision. She held it in the air for a moment, inspecting it as if it were nothing more than an inconvenient distraction.

As she moved, her cloak fluttered and fell away, revealing the horns atop her head. One was intact, curving upward in a cruel arc, while the other was jagged, broken at the tip—remnants of past battles.

The tall leader's eyes went wide with horror, his throat constricting as he stumbled backward.

"Demon! A demon!! There's actually a demon here!!"

His voice broke as he screamed in terror, his mind racing to comprehend the impossible sight before him. His finger pointed shakily toward Aura as if his accusation might somehow ward her off.

"What is the human army even doing?! How could they allow a flesh-eating monster like you to roam freely in this territory?!"

His words tumbled out in a frenzied rush, his panic spilling into bitter anger. The sight of Aura, her demonic nature undeniable, seemed to shatter whatever resolve he had left. His chest heaved, his mind reeling with disgust and fear.

"That bunch of useless scum—taking taxes and yet letting demons slaughter humans!!"

His voice cracked as rage overtook him. It was clear the bandit squad leader had built up years of resentment. Seeing Aura's true form seemed to break him, and his words now came like a man possessed.

"Damn it! Damn it! So many people have been killed by demons, and yet they still haven't been wiped out! You damned monsters!!"

But before he could finish, before he could say anything more, Aura's eyes flicked to him, cold and detached. Without a word, her fists rose high above her head, and in one swift, brutal motion, they slammed down onto the tall squad leader's skull.

SPLAT!

The sound of bones cracking under the sheer force was sickening—his skull caved in with a grotesque, crushing sound. The squad leader's bloated chest swelled unnaturally, ribs snapping like twigs under the force, the air escaping his lungs in a horrific wheeze.

Aura stood over the lifeless body, watching it twitch and shudder, the remnants of life fading from it. Her gaze was cold, indifferent.

"What's with all this useless chatter?" she muttered, her voice as emotionless as the action itself. She stared down at the twitching corpse of the tall leader, his head crushed beyond recognition, but his body still convulsing in agony.

With a casual shrug, Aura bent down, her fingers curling around the sword the squad leader had dropped. She stood back up, effortlessly lifting the weapon as though it weighed nothing.

"If it's a fight, then just fight," she said, her tone as dismissive as her actions. "What's the point of all that nonsense?"

She turned her gaze toward the dead bodies, her eyes scanning the surrounding woods with practiced precision, her senses on high alert. She could smell the blood from deeper in the forest, the scent of something more sinister lying just beyond the trees.

"No wonder that other guy called you a loudmouth..." she added with a smirk, turning away from the corpses.

Aura took a few steps forward, her eyes still sharp, her body relaxed. She let the sword rest easily on her shoulder, unfazed by the brutal carnage she had just unleashed. There was no satisfaction in her movements—just efficiency, like a task she'd completed a thousand times before.

From what she'd overheard earlier, this wasn't a random attack. The two bandits had argued about something bigger—something organized. Her village was under threat. A large group of enemies was targeting her home, and they weren't just a bunch of ragtag villagers. They were prepared.

Aura's expression darkened as she pushed the thought to the forefront of her mind. This wasn't over.

She had a responsibility now. She couldn't afford to fail.

She couldn't let her home, her village, be destroyed by these humans.

"I won't stop until every last one of them is dead," Aura muttered to herself, her eyes narrowing as she followed the scent of blood deeper into the forest. Her footsteps were purposeful, and her grip on the sword tightened.

If her village became just another Village of the Sword, another casualty in a never-ending cycle of bloodshed, what would that mean for her? What would she do then?

She wasn't going to let that happen.

Not on her watch.

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I just rewrote chapter 58. You can reread the chapter to see what the difference than before (^_^)