Chapter 508: Killing Intent

The third time he saw the farmer, the man was still just as warm and apologetic, once again asking Saul if he had seen a ten-year-old boy with red hair and a big nose.

This time, Saul looked at the farmer steadily and smiled. “Sorry, I haven’t seen that boy.”

The farmer looked disappointed, but he no longer suspected Saul of being the culprit.

“It’s getting late. You’re standing out here—how about I take you into the village and let you rest for the night?”

Saul agreed readily. “Sure, thank you.”

The farmer beamed. “It’s been a long time since we had an outsider visit the village. Get in the cart, just sit on the straw—it’s soft, don’t worry about crushing it.”

Saul climbed into the cart and, while sitting down, deliberately adjusted the “seat cushion” as a pretext to move the straw around a bit.

Once again, there were no corpses hidden in the straw.

The cart clattered into the small village. As they passed a house on the outermost edge, Saul saw two burly men standing under the eaves.

They were holding short blades—precisely the two guards who had killed Saul the second time.

But this time, when they saw the farmer and Saul sitting on the cart, they only glanced over casually and then retreated into the shadows under the eaves, continuing their conversation.

The farmer’s house wasn’t right by the main road at the village center but had to be reached through a narrow path between two rundown houses.

Still, it was a two-story house—already considered quite fancy among the small outer buildings.

The farmer stopped the cart at the door and invited Saul inside.

The door was bolted from within, and the farmer couldn’t push it open.

“Must be my wife locking the door again. Normally, I’d be out delivering straw at this hour, but I figured you’d be hungry, so I came back early,” the farmer said with a smile, then raised his rough hands and knocked on the door.

“Coming, coming!” came a slightly panicked voice from inside, followed by hurried footsteps on the stairs.

The bolt was pulled back, the door opened, and a slightly plump middle-aged farmwife with a headscarf appeared.

“Why are you back so early today?”

“What took you so long?”

They spoke at the same time, both with a hint of impatience in their tone.

The wife was the first to step aside. “I was upstairs tidying up. I heard the noise and came right down. How is that slow?”

But the farmer wasn’t satisfied. “I finally brought a guest over, and you locked the door? Go bring out dinner to treat our guest.”

The wife gave Saul a glance, still looking somewhat flustered. The farmer urged her again before she turned and went into a small room on the left to prepare the meal.

But just after she left, the farmer suddenly looked suspiciously toward the second floor. “I’ll go grab a bottle of wine upstairs.”

Saul wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but he knew the farmer’s talk of wine was just an excuse.

The farmer quickly bounded up the stairs in a few strides, just as the farmwife came out carrying bowls and silverware.

Seeing the farmer heading upstairs, she was startled. “What are you going up there for?”

The farmer ignored her. The farmwife followed him a few steps but ultimately stopped at the base of the stairs.

“Don’t go messing up the storeroom again!” she said as she placed the tableware on the table in the living room.

Her hands were trembling—she was clearly very nervous.

Suddenly, a scream rang out from the second floor, followed by chaos. Then Saul saw a shadow fall past the window beside him.

Saul stepped closer and saw a young man lying on the ground with a familiar iron fork stabbed into his neck.

Before Saul could even marvel at yet another domestic tragedy, a venomous voice sounded behind him.

“This is all your fault!”

Saul turned around and saw the farmwife rushing at him with a sharp dining fork raised in her hand.

“This is my fault?!” Saul, who already knew these villagers weren’t normal, immediately activated his magic.

“If you hadn’t come here, he wouldn’t have come home early!”

A black blade appeared behind the farmwife.

But when it fell, it was still blocked by an invisible barrier.

“So it’s not just about whether you ambush them or not.” Saul already knew how this attempt would end, but he still tried to leap through the window and escape.

However, just as he made up his mind to flee, the farmwife, who had been two or three meters away, suddenly appeared in front of him in the blink of an eye and drove the fork into his eye, the tip stabbing straight through his brain.

Saul: “…”

[Herman: That just looks painful!]

Saul thought he would die instantly, but instead, he remained conscious for several more seconds.

In that time, he saw the farmwife dragging him by the leg into the small room to the left.

It was the kitchen. As soon as they entered, Saul saw the stove.

The farmwife grabbed Saul’s head and lifted it. Saul then saw what was in the stove.

A pot of thick, bubbling soup of indiscernible ingredients—with several strands of red hair floating on top.

“Perfect timing, the old broth needed replacing anyway,” the farmwife muttered as she grabbed a knife from the counter and brought it down with force.

[You are now well-cooked.]

…

Saul: “She still had the mood to cook? Shouldn’t she have waited to kill or be killed by the farmer?”

[Agu: Probably because everyone in this village is messed up.]

Standing once more outside the village, Saul didn’t bother watching the golden page’s illustration this time.

Even he couldn’t bear to look at the scene again. The other consciousnesses likewise avoided bringing it up.

[Morden: Master, this is already the fourth restart. Have you noticed any loss of mental or magical energy?]

Saul knew what Morden was worried about. “I’ve checked my physical state every time I started over. So far, I haven’t lost anything.”

[Agu: No cost at all? That’s terrifying.]

[Herman: Why is it terrifying if there’s no cost?]

“Because the most expensive things are always the ones that come free. But that’s not what matters right now,” Saul replied. Then he stood where he was, waiting for the farmer’s cart to pass by again.

Events proceeded just as they had the third time. Saul accepted the farmer’s invitation to enter the village.

On the way, he thought about the ways he’d died the previous three times.

“Each time I died, it was when someone wanted to kill me.”

[Morden: I noticed that too. Maybe the rule here is that you can’t resist someone who harbors killing intent?]

“Possibly. I only struck out in the second round—killed the farmer. That was right after dying the first time, and I naturally developed a killing intent toward him.”

But after a moment’s thought, Saul shook his head. “But I also felt killing intent toward others when they attacked me, and I still couldn’t hurt them. And we’ve seen now that ambushes don’t work either. So maybe killing intent alone isn’t enough. But I’m fairly sure that once someone harbors killing intent toward me, I’m dead.”

[Herman: Trying to make sure no one in this place wants to kill you? That’s impossible. These people are clearly all insane!]

Saul clasped his fingers together. “I’ve got a new idea.”

Just then, the farmer pulled up in front of his home. “This is my house. Want to come in for the night?”

Saul hopped off the cart and brushed off the bits of straw and pine needles. “Thanks, but I’d like to walk around the street a bit first. Pick up a few things.”

The farmer frowned. “Then be careful. Little Claude just went missing a few days ago. The bad guy might still be in the village.”

Saul nodded. “This time, I’ll be careful.”

He walked away from the farmer, who didn’t head home right away but went off to make deliveries.

Saul watched the cart pull away and glanced up at the second floor of the farmer’s house. He said nothing and moved on.

“Can you give me a silver coin?”

As he walked down the street, a cute little girl about seven or eight years old suddenly blocked his path.

Given how easily people here turned to murder, Saul didn’t let his guard down just because she was young.

“Can I ask why you want a silver coin?”

“My friend, Little Claude, has been missing for days. I need the coin to hire a cart and go look for him!” The little girl puffed out her chest, speaking with conviction.

(End of Chapter)

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