prologue (1/2)

The Hero-Slaying Bandit - Prologue: Until I Killed a Hero

The Hero-Slaying Bandit

Synopsis: The protagonist is an adventurer and a bandit. A rascal of sort.

Varde is the third son of a n.o.ble, and is a b.a.s.t.a.r.d who was born of an affair with the maid. Still, his family did take care of him until he was five years old, allowing him to live, although with much shame. On his fifth birthday, however, his magic affinity was tested, and his affinity was found to be poor. In the end, he was chased away from his house, sent to his mother’s relatives, and forbidden from a.s.sociating his name with his n.o.ble relatives.

After that, he went out on an adventure with the brother of his mother, his uncle. As his uncle was an adventurer, he was able to learn many techniques to allow him to survive.

Before long, he was able to stand up by himself. And in order to live in this world of injustice, he dirtied his hands.

This is the tale of living in a fantasy world based on the moral values of the protagonist, Varde.

This story is R15 and will have brutal depictions, as well as light s.e.xual descriptions.

TL Note: Not picking this up, but will translate it from time to time unless someone else picks it up.

Author’s note: It’s my first time, so this is sort of an experimental post. I’ll keep posting chapters for as long as I can.

Prologue: Until I Killed a Hero

On a pleasant day with good weather, I stopped by a certain town.

That town was currently under attack.

(These guys sure picked an interesting place to come out)

This world is a world of irrational mayhem and mysterious power. Which goes to say that it’s a world made up of magic. There are monsters, and there are also species other than humans living normally in this world.

I don’t have any intention of fighting for the villagers here though. As for why, well that’s because I’m sort of a bandit myself.

On the outside, I’m an adventurer, so I won’t steal or mug people while I’m in the village. But in places like the highway, the forest, or the labyrinths, well that’s a whole another story. If there’s someone I don’t like, I’m gonna beat him black and blue. If there’s something to plunder, I’ll take it. And if there’re good women, they’re mine.

It should be easy to understand if you just categorize me under a stereotypical evil adventurer.

There’s no reason for someone like that to interfere in the pillaging and ma.s.sacring that’s currently taking place before me. But if it becomes disadvantageous for me, then things change.

As I watched on with apathy, I heard consecutive screams and roars bellow out.

(Did the villagers start fighting back? It feels a bit late though.)

The sound of the echoing sword was br.i.m.m.i.n.g with might. It was not the sort of sound you’d hear from villagers fighting.

(The exchange is a bit odd…)