Chapter 255

Chapter 255: Chapter 255 "She sounds like a smart woman," Satou observed.


"She is," Freda agreed with a small smile. "I should introduce you properly when we return. I think she’d like you—you have similar philosophies about power and responsibility."


The conversation drifted to lighter topics after that. Urgot, despite his pain, entertained them with exaggerated stories about his father Urgak’s legendary stubbornness. Kelvin shared tales of the early days of Satou’s settlement, when they were just a handful of goblins trying to survive in hostile territory.


Even Grimnir contributed, his normally gruff demeanor softening as he recounted battles they’d fought together, always emphasizing how Lord Satou’s tactical brilliance had turned impossible situations into victories.


Sylvara listened but didn’t participate, still lost in her own thoughts. Satou noticed but didn’t push. She’d speak when ready.


As the hours passed and exhaustion caught up with them, one by one his companions drifted off to sleep. Urgot went first, pain and blood loss pulling him under despite his best efforts to stay awake. Freda followed soon after, magical exhaustion proving too much to fight. Grimnir’s enhanced healing required energy, and his body demanded rest to fuel the process.


Kelvin held out longer, his warrior’s discipline keeping him alert. But eventually even he succumbed, his head nodding forward as sleep claimed him.


Only Satou and Sylvara remained awake.


She finally broke the silence, her voice quiet. "Does it get easier? The guilt, I mean. Even when you know they deserved it."


Satou considered the question carefully. "I don’t know if it gets easier. But I think you learn to carry it better. To accept that sometimes difficult choices have to be made."


"He was a monster," Sylvara said, more to herself than to Satou. "I know that. I watched him kill my mother. I spent three years learning about all the people he’d murdered, all the lives he’d destroyed. I know he deserved to die."


"But he was still your father," Satou finished for her.


She nodded, fresh tears tracking down her face. "I thought killing him would make me feel... satisfied. Victorious. But I just feel empty. Like I’ve been carrying this weight for so long that without it, I don’t know who I am."


"You’re someone who survived something terrible and had the strength to do what needed to be done," Satou said firmly. "And now you have the opportunity to become whoever you want to be, free from his shadow. That’s not nothing."


"What if I don’t know who I want to be?"


"Then you figure it out. Try different things. Help people. Build something. You have time."


Sylvara was quiet for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Thank you. For... for everything. For not judging me. For letting me come with you."


"You’re welcome."


She settled back into her corner, and within minutes, exhaustion finally claimed her as well. Her breathing deepened and evened out, and she slept.


Satou remained awake, keeping watch over his sleeping companions as the carriage rolled steadily through the night toward home.


He used the quiet hours to continue integrating the massive influx of knowledge and power from Merc Assault. Carefully examining each new skill, understanding its applications, considering how it might synergize with his existing abilities.


The assassination techniques were particularly fascinating—each method designed for specific scenarios, optimized through centuries of trial and refinement. The nightmare manipulation abilities opened up entirely new tactical possibilities. The combat knowledge gave him insights that would have taken lifetimes to develop naturally.


But he also paid attention to the more subtle gains. Enhanced perception that let him sense threats from much greater distances. Mental fortifications that made him nearly immune to psychological warfare. Knowledge of the demon realm’s hidden power structures and secret dangers.


All of it was settling into place, becoming part of him .


Then his newly enhanced senses detected something.


A massive surge of hostile intent, approaching fast from the northeast. Multiple sources, all radiating killing intent. And more immediately dangerous—a concentration of magical energy gathering rapidly, the signature of a large-scale attack spell being prepared.


[Omniscient Nightmare Vision] activated automatically, showing him not just the physical attack but the intent behind it. Someone was targeting their carriage with a devastating fire spell, meant to incinerate everyone inside.
Satou moved.


One moment he was sitting in the carriage. The next, he’d activated [Shadow Absolute Movement]—the enhanced version of his shadow step ability and materialized in front of the vehicle, floating in midair through sheer application of his aura.


The fireball arrived a split-second later.


It was massive—easily fifteen feet in diameter, burning with heat so intense that the air around it was visibly distorting. A spell of that magnitude would have vaporized the carriage and everyone in it instantly.


Satou raised one hand almost casually, and [Absolute Severance] activated. His hand moved in a precise cutting motion, and the fireball split cleanly down the middle. The two halves curved away from the carriage on either side, dissipating harmlessly into the air as their structural integrity collapsed.


The driver had immediately pulled the horses to a stop, his face pale with shock. Through the carriage window, Satou could see his companions still sleeping, exhausted enough that even the magical detonation of the fireball hadn’t woken them.


Satou’s enhanced vision locked onto the source of the attack. A group of figures on horseback and some levitating through magical means, approaching at high speed. Even from this distance, he could sense their hostile intent radiating like heat from a forge.


He floated back down to land beside the driver, his expression cold and controlled despite the rage beginning to simmer beneath the surface. Someone had just tried to kill his people. That was unforgivable.


"Keep going," Satou said, his voice carrying absolute authority. "Don’t stop, don’t slow down, don’t look back. Just keep the carriage moving toward the settlement."


"But my lord—" the driver started to protest.


"That’s an order," Satou cut him off. "I’ll handle this and catch up. Just protect the people in that carriage."


The driver swallowed hard, then nodded and snapped the reins. The demon horses resumed their steady pace, carrying the carriage away from the developing confrontation.


Satou glanced back through the carriage window one more time. His companions were still sleeping—Kelvin, Grimnir, Urgot, Freda, and Sylvara, all of them exhausted to the point that they hadn’t even stirred from the attack. Good. They needed rest, and this fight wouldn’t take long anyway.


He could feel his power reserves were nearly full despite everything they’d been through. His sss class regeneration skill had restored him almost completely during the hours of travel. His mana was at perhaps ninety percent capacity. His physical condition was perfect.


He was more than ready for whatever was coming.


Then he moved toward the approaching enemies.


[Shadow Absolute Movement] carried him across the distance in an instant, space folding as he teleported through the shadows cast by the early morning sun. He materialized directly in the path of the approaching group, floating about twenty feet off the ground, arms crossed, his expression utterly calm.


The group skidded to a halt, clearly shocked by his sudden appearance. Now that he was closer, Satou could see them clearly and take proper stock of what he was facing.


Approximately two hundred individuals, give or take. The vast majority were beastfolk—specifically werewolves based on their lupine features and the distinctive aura they carried. They rode massive wolves that were easily twice the size of normal horses, clearly bred or enhanced for war. Some of the more powerful members were levitating through magical means rather than riding.


All of them wore similar gear—leather armor reinforced with metal plates, weapons that gleamed with enchantments, and symbols that marked them as belonging to some kind of organized force rather than random bandits.


And every single one of them was radiating hostile intent so thick Satou could practically taste it.


Satou activated one of the skills he’d gained from devouring Merc Assault’s cultists—[Voice Amplification], a simple but effective ability that let him project his voice across great distances without shouting.


"It would be best if you stopped getting in my way," Satou said, his amplified voice carrying clearly to every member of the group. "I’ll forgive the first attack you launched at me as a mistake. I would like to avoid pointless slaughter if I can. I think it’s better for both of us if you simply turn around and leave."


For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then the entire group erupted into laughter.


"What can one goblin do?" one of them called out mockingly. "Look at him, levitating there all mighty! Thinking he can take all of us by himself!"


"This is a blatant suicide attempt!" another shouted. "Does he not know who we are?"


"Maybe he’s lost his mind!" a third suggested, which got more laughs.


Satou’s expression didn’t change, though inside he felt a familiar cold anger beginning to build. He’d given them a chance. They’d chosen to reject it with mockery. Very well.