The Mad Dog of the Duke's Estate-Chapter 122. What Can You Do?

The site lay about an hour's walk south of Eär Village. Caron and his group had stationed themselves at a vantage point, observing the pirates advancing rapidly from a distance.

"They're moving faster than I expected," Leo remarked, his brows knitting together as he watched the disorganized horde.

The pirates showed not a shred of discipline, but their sheer numbers—close to a thousand—combined with their high morale were a threat in and of themselves.

Boom!

One by one, the traps laid earlier by the elves were being dismantled. Though the pirates lacked discipline, they weren't amateurs either. They sent forward hardened veterans to carefully clear the way.

With a faint smirk tugging at Caron's lips, he tilted his head slightly and said, "Well, they are the Queen's pirates. Handling a few traps should be within their capabilities."

The traps, crafted by the elves, relied heavily on elemental magic—using the forces of nature to trigger them. Some were designed to ignite flames through fire spirits, while others aimed to entangle with vines or set off cascading avalanches of debris. And yet, at this moment, the traps were falling short of their intended effect.

It was just as Barad had warned them: The forest's elemental spirits were severely weakened.

"...Those creatures, they're nagas, right?" Leo asked.

"No doubt about it," Leon replied, nodding toward a group of scaly figures among the pirates. "Don't they look simply delightful?"

Caron followed Leo's gesture, his gaze settling on the naga. These scaled beings lurked at the rear of the pirate force, exuding a sinister, oppressive energy. Their pointed ears hinted at their distant kinship to the elves, but that was where the similarity ended.

Their azure-toned, scale-covered skin shimmered faintly, and their piercing, golden eyes radiated a malevolent glow. The sight of them sent an involuntary chill down Caron's spine.

"The power of the abyss is close to black magic, Master," Guillotine's voice echoed faintly in Caron's mind. "It consumes and corrupts everything it touches."

Guillotine's observation was all too accurate. The magic emanating from the nagas—a twisted force drawn from the deep sea—was no ordinary power.

Crrrack!

A tree caught in the magic's reach shriveled instantly, its bark cracking and peeling away as if aged by centuries in mere moments. The power was nothing short of profane.

"This won't be easy," Caron murmured, nodding slowly as he took in the scene.

The nagas' power exceeded his expectations. They effectively nullified the elves' greatest asset—their elemental spirits. Though the pirates and nagas didn't seem to be working together in perfect harmony, the nagas more than compensated for the pirates' lack of magical ability.

"Hmm," Caron let out a faint sigh, his expression pensive. To an outsider, it could have looked like hesitation, but that wasn't the case.

Leo, standing beside him, frowned as he glanced at Caron. "...So, Caron. Are you really going to use that?" he asked hesitantly, his tone uneasy.

He was referring to the new ability Caron had revealed to their group just the day before. The sheer thought of it made Leo shudder. This ability was the reason their original plan—to have Kerra lead the charge—had been altered.

Caron responded with a confident nod, as though the question was unnecessary. He replied with a wry smile, "Of course. When else would I use it, if not now?"

"Well, you're not wrong... but still, it's unsettling," Leo muttered, clearly uneasy.

Caron shifted his gaze to Leo, fully aware of what was bothering him. It wasn't just hesitation or doubt—it was fear of the new ability.

This power wasn't something Caron had simply stumbled upon. It had emerged after he absorbed fragments of Slaughter's remnants with Kerra's aid.

Sssshhh.

Pluto materialized from Caron's hand, the shadowy entity slipping out effortlessly before perching on his shoulder.

"There's no better time or place to test it," Caron said.

Leo sighed in reluctant agreement and said, "You're right about that."

"Exactly. It's now or never," Caron replied, his tone firm.

Leon clicked her tongue and said, "You're like a proper dark mage now. All that hatred for them—was it just self-loathing in disguise?"

Before Caron could respond, Leon's words drew a soft chuckle from Leo, who added in a low voice, "I understand why Leo's concerned, Caron. Honestly, that power... It's terrifying."

"Agreed," Utula said, his expression darkening further. "It's far too brutal to be considered honorable."

It wasn't just Leo. All of Caron's companions had witnessed this newfound ability for themselves, and it unsettled them all.

The power bore a striking resemblance to the dreaded demonic eyes that the Demon King of Slaughter had once wielded—a force Caron himself had absorbed only with Pluto as a conduit. Even Caron had found the power too burdensome to take on directly, passing it to Pluto instead.

And yet, no one in the group told Caron not to use it. They all knew how valuable this ability could be in their current situation.

If they were to describe it simply, the power was...

"The Essence of Slaughter."

It worked much like the demonic eyes, inducing a frenzy in any being that came into contact with Pluto's darkness. It was akin to the mind-manipulating spells of mages, but infinitely darker in nature. The power, drawn from the remnants of a demon king's aura, was as malevolent as one would expect.

Watching the pirates advancing in the distance, Leon muttered, "Still, I'll admit... It suits you."

The group had even given Caron's ability a name. It was a term that encapsulated its essence perfectly: "Rabies." There wasn't a word more fitting to describe the power.

At Leon's remark, Caron clicked his tongue in annoyance and let out a long sigh. "Out of all the cool names you could've chosen, you went with 'Rabies'?"

"Well, people go mad when they come into contact with it, don't they?" Leon replied dryly.

"Technically, only if they touch Pluto—" Caron said.

"That's the same thing," Leon interjected with a shrug. "Anyway, congratulations, Caron. You're officially a mad dog now."

Caron knew their teasing was a thin veil for their concern. He wasn't blind to the unease in their eyes, nor was he immune to the power's unnerving nature. It truly was a frightening force.

Of course, it wasn't an all-powerful ability. It had no effect on those of considerable strength—mages of the fifth circle or 5-Star knights and above could resist its influence.

But this wasn't a battle against elites. No matter how seasoned those pirates were, veterans hardened by countless battles at sea, Caron doubted many among them could withstand the effects of Rabies. And that was precisely why he planned to use it.

"There are plenty of test subjects. How convenient," Caron murmured quietly as his gaze lingered on the approaching pirates.

Leo shuddered and glared at him, then said, "Seriously Caron, stop saying stuff like that! You sound exactly like a dark mage."

Unfazed, Caron replied in an even tone, "Leo, this is war."

"Yeah, I know that," Leo muttered reluctantly.

"If we don't kill them, they'll kill us," Caron explained.

In war, the question wasn't how you won. Because losing meant losing everything, what truly mattered was simply winning—by any means necessary.

Caron's grim words hung in the air for a moment before his companions slowly nodded in agreement.

Leo and Leon, in particular, understood. Their past missions in the Southern Kingdom had taught them the harsh reality of war. It wasn't heroic, it wasn't noble—it was survival at its ugliest.

Caron sheathed his sword before breaking the silence by saying, "One more thing, just so we're clear."

The cold gleam of Guillotine caught the light as Caron drew the blade. He fixed his companions with a cold stare and continued, "War isn't some holy duel. It's hell. I trust you all understand what I mean."

The group exchanged solemn looks, their silence speaking volumes.

Caron's left hand reached out to stroke Pluto's back, the gesture calm yet purposeful. In a low voice, he issued a command. "Pluto, I'll need your help."

Meow!

With a single agile leap, Pluto sprang from Caron's shoulder and melted into the shadows, disappearing in an instant.

Caron looked up, his sharp gaze locking onto the pirates in the distance. They were moving in to capture the hatchling—the adorable Aqua they'd sworn to protect.

Did scum like that deserve mercy?

Of course not.

A wicked grin curled at the corners of Caron's lips. "Welcome to hell," he muttered under his breath.

The mad dog bared its fangs at the intruders.

***

The pirate crew under Bessic's command reached the outskirts of the elven village with little resistance.

"Boss! That's the elves' village over there," one of his lieutenants reported, pointing ahead. "But it doesn't seem like we can storm it directly."

"Why not?" Bessic demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"There's a massive defensive barrier around the entire village. It might be better to wait for the naga to deactivate it—" the lieutenant began, but before he could finish, Bessic scowled, gripping his massive battle-ax. With a swift motion, he swung it wide.

Whmmmm!

The mana from the ax's edge surged forward, streaking toward the barrier.

Boom!

The translucent shield held firm, repelling the force of the attack. Bessic's scowl deepened as he surveyed the still-intact barrier.

"Stubborn thing," he muttered. "What did the nagas say about this?"

"They estimate it'll take twenty minutes to neutralize the barrier, boss. But..." The lieutenant hesitated before continuing. "Don't you think this whole attack feels... too easy?"

"What do you mean?" Bessic asked, his tone sharp.

"Well, elves aren't the type to roll over without a fight. It doesn't sit right, boss. There's been no resistance, no countermeasures..."

The lieutenant's concerns were valid. Not a single elf had tried to stop them as they approached the village.

Bessic, however, snorted in disdain and said, "That's because without their precious spirits, elves are nothing."

"At the very least, they should've tried delaying tactics or something," the lieutenant said.

"Are you new to this kind of work?" Bessic shot back, his tone dripping with irritation.

His forces numbered over a thousand, bolstered by the eerie power of the nagas. Even the elves had to have realized they had no chance against such odds.

"How many people willingly march to their deaths? None. They're probably planning to hole up in the village," Bessic explained, his gaze shifting back to the barrier. "That shield makes it obvious. They're bracing for a last stand."

The lieutenant nodded cautiously.

"They're waiting for reinforcements from Galad," Bessic continued, recalling what the nagas had told him about the elven city.

But reinforcements wouldn't matter, because by the time Galad's troops arrived, it would already be too late.

"Our mission will be complete by then," Bessic said with a wicked grin. "We'll have razed that village to the ground and moved on."

It wouldn't take more than a day to turn the village into ashes. By the time the main elven force arrived, there would be nothing left to save.

As for the hatchling, that was Edward's problem. The Queen's loyal dog could sniff it out himself.

"Capturing this village alone will be enough to fulfill our purpose," Bessic said confidently. "Even the Queen won't be able to complain."

He turned back to his lieutenant and said, "Tell the pups to check their weapons one last time. When that barrier comes down, I'll carve the path myself. Got it?"

"Yes, boss!" the lieutenant barked, standing at attention.

Despite Bessic's foul temper, his men followed him without hesitation. The reason was simple—Bessic always led from the front. The sight of him charging into battle, his massive battle-ax cleaving through enemies, had become a symbol of trust for his crew.

And this time would be no different.

"Tell the nagas to hurry it up," Bessic ordered with his battle-ax slung over his shoulder, allowing a grin to curl on his lips.

If this works out, I might finally gain my independence, Bessic thought.

If he could capture enough elves, there would no longer be a need to remain under the Queen's thumb. The nagas had already parted the seas for him, and the thought of leading his fleet eastward across the open waters felt increasingly tempting.

Unlike the southern seas dominated by the Queen, the eastern waters were relatively untamed, with only scattered pirate crews. If he combined that opportunity with the fortune he would make selling elven slaves...

There's no rule saying I can't become the ruler of the eastern seas myself, Bessic thought.

As he indulged in that sweet dream, a sharp scream erupted from the rear ranks.

"AAAAHHHH!"

The sudden, piercing cry snapped Bessic from his thoughts. He turned to see his men in chaos.

"What the hell is going on?!" he bellowed.

The scene was incomprehensible. Some of his crew had begun attacking their comrades without warning, swinging weapons in wild, senseless arcs.

"Has this bastard lost his mind?!" one of the pirates cried.

"What's wrong with him?!" another pirate yelled.

The mutiny had no logic. It was as if they'd been possessed, their frenzied attacks spreading like wildfire. With every blink, more of his men joined the madness, turning their weapons on allies.

Watching the chaos unfold, Bessic's instincts flared. It's him.

That ruthless man. The one who had planted something inside his crewmate and sent him back to the ship like a ticking time bomb. It had to be his handiwork again.

"Kill them! Take down the crazed ones, now!" Bessic roared, raising his massive battle-ax to bring order to the carnage.

But just as he prepared to swing, a voice—a young, almost mocking voice—slipped into his ears. "Again with the killing? You really are a heartless bastard."

The words sent a chill down Bessic's spine. He whipped around, scanning for the source.

And then he saw him.

Emerging soundlessly from the shadow of a nearby tree was a young man clad in sleek black armor. His golden hair shimmered under the sunlight, and his piercing blue eyes carried a dangerous glint. The sword in his hand, radiating a dark azure glow, reflected the menace in his gaze.

"Do you like my gift?" the man asked, his tone light, almost playful. "Rabies, they call it. My friends came up with that name, actually."

There wasn't a shred of sincerity in his voice.

"Nice to meet you, Bessic, the Sixth Hero," he added, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"You... Who are you?" Bessic growled, gripping his ax more tightly.

The man's smile widened as he said, "Caron Leston."

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"What?"

"That's my name. I'd appreciate it if you remembered it."

The devil smiled at Bessic.