Anagin Chronicles

Chapter 009. The Deal (1)

Silence fell over the city.

People blinked, dazed and disoriented. Those who had seen the strength and cruelty of Bender’s Caravan before simply couldn’t believe what they were seeing now.

That vicious caravan was defeated so easily?

They rubbed their eyes, looked again and again, but nothing changed. The Bender’s Caravan lay scattered and broken, all of them defeated by a single outsider.

The most violent of them, Ortega, gurgled blood from his throat with a scabbard lodged in his neck. Theros, who had once terrified others with his massive axe, lay dead with daggers buried in both eyes. And most of all—the man at the center of it all, Bender…

He’d been knocked flat by the outsider’s fist, lying sprawled on the ground with his face caved in.

It had all happened in a blink, so fast it could hardly be called a moment. The people were less surprised than they were dumbfounded, unable to process what had just happened or how to even react.

“Th-thank the heavens! A hero! The hero who saved the city!!”

Someone cried out in a trembling voice, the shrewdest of the merchants.

He proclaimed that the outsider, Anagin, had saved them all.

Whether he meant it sincerely or was merely trying to survive was impossible to tell, but his cry spread like wildfire, soon swelling into cheers and applause.

Only a handful remained untouched by the hysteria: the old man, City Lord Rio, and Anagin himself.

Even as the crowd chanted his name, Anagin seemed utterly unmoved. He dug a pinky into his ear, uninterested, and walked over to the fallen Bender.

Bender’s face was so crushed it was barely recognizable, yet being a Gigant, he wasn’t dead. He twitched, reaching out weakly for his fallen sword.

Tap.

Just before his fingers touched the hilt, Anagin picked it up first and examined it.

“Hmm…”

He hummed thoughtfully, turning the blade in his hand.

It was well-made, sure, but nothing extraordinary. Certainly not a sword that should’ve been able to slice another blade cleanly in half.

“...Rugh…”

“Huh?”

Anagin glanced down.

Bender was mumbling something, his mangled mouth barely capable of forming words.

“Rugh… tell yuh… I’ll tell…”

“Ah, you mean you’ll tell me? That skill you showed earlier?”

Bender managed a faint nod.

He was offering to teach Anagin his technique in exchange for mercy. A reasonable proposal.

For a practitioner, nothing was more precious than life—except knowledge and skill.

Trading one for the other wasn’t uncommon.

Unfortunately for Bender, Anagin wasn’t that kind of person.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out myself.”

Anagin shrugged, then lifted one leg.

“Also… you’ve got pretty bad luck.”

Bender tried to say something, but Anagin’s foot came down on his face.

Crunch!

Crunch!

Crunch!

Wet, sickening cracks echoed through the city square. The cheers that had filled the air moments ago began to fade.

Step. Step. Step.

Amid the fading noise, Anagin walked to Ortega’s corpse, still twitching faintly, and stomped on his temple.

Crunch!

Crunch!

Crunch!

The cheers died completely.

Then, as if it were routine, Anagin stepped up to Theros’s body and crushed his head beneath his heel.

Crunch!

Crunch!

Crunch!

Blood drenched his feet. Three corpses lay with their heads pulverized.

Though it was spring, the air turned frigid. Though the sun shone high, the silence was darker than any night.

Standing in that chilling quiet, Anagin spoke softly:

“Don’t mix trivial nonsense into my fight. It’s irritating enough.”

His tone was flat, cold, and merciless. No one dared respond.

Step. Step.

Only one man moved, Rio, the City Lord of Dysis Polis.

He walked up to Anagin and bowed his head.

“Congratulations.”

Anagin frowned at the unexpected remark.

“What exactly are you congratulating me for?”

“For claiming Bender’s Caravan’s immense fortune as your spoils of victory. You’ve gained great wealth.”

He pointed toward the corner, where a trembling Minotauros stood, still frozen in fear.

“Do you happen to know what that creature is?”

“No. What is it?”

“It’s a Minotauros, a race of monsters that rules over the island of Crete. They possess incredible strength and endurance, but they’re so violent that most people can’t control them.”

“Wow, that’s interesting. But do I need to know that?”

“No, what’s important is the wooden chest that Minotauros is carrying. It’s a magical tool used by Bender’s Caravan, something akin to an Interspatial Bag. All of Bender’s accumulated wealth is stored inside that chest. It now belongs to you.”

It made sense.

Anagin had defeated the caravan; therefore, the spoils were rightfully his. The only problem was, it sounded inconvenient.

“…Seems a bit too big to carry around, though.”

“Then allow me to take care of it for you. It may take some time to process everything, but perhaps you’d like to eat first?”

Anagin rolled his neck, loosening his shoulders, and looked at Rio.

Rio met his gaze directly, eyes wide and steady.

“It’s our custom to serve a meal to our most distinguished guests.

“Is the food good?”

“It will be delicious.”

Rio replied confidently, raising his head.

* * *

“I’ll admit it. That was good.”

The windows glowed red under the setting sun.

Having finished his early dinner, Anagin wiped his hands with a towel as he spoke.

The table before him was stacked high with empty plates, each smeared with leftover sauce and crumbs, forming a miniature tower that testified to just how much he had eaten.

It looked less like a meal and more like the aftermath of a village feast.

“I’m glad it suited your taste. Bringing the head chef from my homeland was worth it.”

“Your homeland?”

“Hellas, the land of civilization and order.”

“I know where Hellas is. Anyway, thanks for the meal. I’m just worried you’re cursing me behind my back for eating so much.”

Rio chuckled softly.

“Haha, do you actually worry about things like that?”

“Believe it or not, I was raised well. I know my manners.”

“For someone well-mannered, your speech is rather blunt.”

“Exceptions exist for people who live by scheming. Got a problem with that?”

Rio lifted both palms, shaking his head as if to say he meant no harm.

“Not at all. After what you did, saving us from Bender’s tyranny, we can only be grateful.”

“I told you, I didn’t save anyone.”

Anagin’s denial was sharp and immediate. Rio nodded.

“I know. You probably have no interest in people like us. Still, the fact remains that we were helped. So, no matter how much you ate, it’s not a loss to us.”

“I can hear your brain spinning again. Drrrk. Drrrk.”

Anagin tapped his temple with two fingers in mock warning, but Rio didn’t back down. He met Anagin’s gaze directly.

“Since it’s already spinning, may I scheme a little bit more? My brain, that is.”

“……”

“If it displeases you, feel free to slap me anytime.”

The mood shifted. Rio’s tone carried a quiet resolve. Anagin glared at him for a moment, then leaned back against his chair.

“Go on.”

“There’s another reason the food wasn’t wasted.”

“Let me guess, you’re getting a nice cut from the deal?”

Anagin said dryly.

The massive wooden chest that the Minotauros from Bender’s Caravan had been carrying contained a staggering amount of goods, just as Rio had described.

Flour, olive oil, apples, grapes, textiles, jerky, coins, gemstones, and precious metals, the mid-count report alone listed enough to supply a city.

Technically, it all belonged to Anagin, the one who had defeated the caravan. But since Rio had offered to handle the trade, the city would naturally take a generous commission.

“That’s true.”

Rio admitted calmly.

Which also meant there was another reason besides profit.

Anagin frowned.

“I don’t really like riddles.”

“Then I’ll get straight to the point. The reason the meal isn’t wasted… is you yourself, Anagin.”

Drrrk. Drrrk.

That familiar sound of scheming echoed again.

Anagin raised his arm, about to swat him, but Rio quickly spoke up.

“Truthfully, I never wanted to come to this land.”

“…?”

“As I mentioned before, our merchant house was doing quite well back in Hellas.”

Hellas, the land watched over directly by the gods, the very heart of civilization.

“In that place of order and reason, not even a Gigant could rampage freely. Strong kingdoms and heroes worked together under the gods to maintain harmony.”

“If it was that great, why leave? Why come out here to suffer?”

“Funny you ask, that’s exactly what I said to my father. Perhaps old age had clouded his judgment, but one day, he decided to bring me and our merchant company here to start anew.”

“Business trouble?”

“Not at all. Everything was fine. That was the problem, it was too fine.”

“You don’t like things going smoothly?”

“It depends on perspective. My father was a successful merchant, yes, but never more than that. ‘Successful’ was just the middle step. He wanted to be something greater, a true magnate.”

Anagin nodded, beginning to understand.

Rio’s father wasn’t the type to be satisfied with mere success. To him, a prosperous merchant was still a small figure. He wanted something beyond that. And since that was impossible within Hellas, he had come here.

The only question was…

“Then why couldn’t he break free?”

“The answer lies in what I said before. Hellas is the land of order and civilization, which means every domain already has a master. Land, rivers, mountains, even markets and heroic titles… The minor seats may change hands, but the grand ones? They are always held, chosen by the gods themselves. My father couldn’t stand that. Living off crumbs disgusted him.”

“Sounds like he was a greedy man.”

“Ambitious and capable, too. He saw the potential of Anapik before anyone else.”

Anapik, the new land claimed under Hellas’s influence after long wars with barbarians and zealots.

It was said to draw the poor, tenant farmers, and runaway slaves, those tired of Hellas’s rigid life.

“My father believed Anapik was a land still without a true master. That with the right will, one could become anything: the lord of a vast trade guild… even a king. He dreamed of such things, sold everything he owned, and came here to build a city, gathering all the lost and landless souls he could find.”

“I’m not seeing why you’re telling me this story.”

“My point is simple: please don’t despise us too much. Frankly, we’re just pitiful people. Indebted peasants, tenant farmers without even a scrap of land, escaped slaves… Not all, but most here have had hard, miserable lives. I only ask that you not treat us too coldly.”

Anagin frowned and shook his head.

“And why should I care about that?”

“You shouldn’t, of course. I only say this to be clear, I’m not trying to tug at your sympathy.”

“I know. If you were, I’d have already slapped you.”

Rio smiled faintly, but inside, he shivered. If Anagin ever did slap him, his head and body would part ways, that much he was sure of.

“But tell me, are you really safe now? Not that it’s my business, but chasing out one beast doesn’t mean the city’s troubles are over.”

Anagin had struck right at the core of it.

Bender was gone, but that didn’t mean another caravan wouldn’t rise to take his place.

Perhaps an even worse one.

Rio smiled, calm and confident.

“That’s all right. I’ll request protection from the practitioners who were once close to my father.”

“Wow… so why didn’t you just do that earlier?”

“There’s a saying: a bridge apart makes hearts drift miles away. Just because they respected my father doesn’t mean they care for me. And considering I couldn’t even handle a stray like Bender… why would they bother?”

“And now?”

“Now, things are different. Bender’s gone, no immediate enemies, and I suddenly have his enormous fortune.”

“…Hmm?”

Something about that answer made Anagin narrow his eyes.

Rio smiled, rose from his seat, and then slowly knelt before him.

“I wish to propose a deal with you.”