The Villain's Reincarnation – Tired of Working Hard, I'm Slacking Off! The Peacefully Oblivious Slacker Avoids Ruin! - Chapter 37

“What… just happened?”

A knight belonging to the rear unit stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had just occurred.

It had all happened in an instant.

A piercing thrust powerful enough to gouge the earth surged forth from the forest.

The thrust cleaved through the trees, obliterating the vanguard of the rear unit in a single blow.

“If you flee to the rear, I’ll let you go.”

From the path carved through the land and the trees by that singular, devastating thrust, a lone man emerged.

In his hand, he gripped a slender sword, akin to a rapier.

“!!”

Judging by the weapon the man held, the knight instinctively realized he was the one responsible for the previous attack. Reacting swiftly, he drew his sword and assumed a battle stance.

“So that’s your answer…”

The man spoke calmly, accepting the knight’s decision without emotion.

“Who are you—?”

Just as the knight tried to stall for time and question the man’s identity, the latter closed the distance between them in a blink, stepping within striking range of his rapier.

“I’ve no time to entertain idle chatter.”

A lightning-fast thrust followed—so quick that it left no room to react. The knight could only brace for death. Yet, the blade stopped just short of piercing him.

In the next moment, as if sensing something, the man leapt backward in a wide arc.

“What in the world—ugh!”

No sooner had he retreated than a magical barrier expanded around the knight, trapping him within it.

“Ahhh, he got away!”

“To dodge that attack… yeah, enemies recommended for A-rank parties aren’t going down that easily.”

“He might not be a simple foe, but he’s no match for us! After all, we’re a future S-rank party! Right, leader?”

“Yeah. For our grand debut in the royal capital, this guy’s the perfect prey.”

Their voices held no tension—just confidence. The four young adventurers, two men and two women, stepped forward with bold grins on their faces.

“Adventurers, huh…”

The man—Henry—murmured, casting a glance toward the newcomers.

Adventurers—members of the Adventurers’ Guild.

The defining trait of adventurers was this: if one had talent, they could obtain wealth, fame, and power—everything the world had to offer.

This world teemed with the unknown—spirits, monsters, uncharted ruins—dangers that offered slim but real chances at sudden fortune.

That’s precisely why, despite the overwhelming risks, adventuring remained a popular profession throughout history.

The four who had appeared were among those chasing that dream—and they were on a meteoric rise.

Ranks range from E to S, a measure of an adventurer’s ability.

These four, still young, had already reached the pinnacle of what average people could achieve—B-rank. They were even being considered as future A-rank adventurers, a rank only true geniuses ever reached.

“Sorry, but that barrier’s extremely powerful. It won’t break unless it times out. So just sit tight and watch. We’ll show you you’re lucky we came!”

With that, the young male leader of the group stepped forward, followed by his three female companions.

“Now then, become our stepping stone. What was your name again? Henry, right? One of the Blades of the Remnant Mercenaries?”

“Hmm… in that case, allow me to test the confidence you so proudly boast.”

Brushing off the taunt, Henry once again closed the distance in an instant.

Clang!

The sharp sound of metal clashing rang through the air.

“You blocked it?”

“Of course I did!”

The young adventurer had parried the lightning-fast strike with his sword—a blow that had previously gone undetected.

Thus began their fierce exchange.

A storm of rapid blows filled the space, scattering countless sparks around them.

But it couldn’t last forever.

Small cuts began to appear on the young adventurer’s body, and his movements gradually slowed.

He’s strong.

The young man could feel the disparity between them.

In swordsmanship, footwork, reflexes—even basic physical ability—Henry outclassed him in every way.

At this rate, he would lose. He could sense it clearly. Yet, there was no panic in his expression.

Because he wasn’t fighting alone.

“Heal the wounds of my beloved! Heal!”

The party’s healer invoked her recovery spell, chanting her original incantation for greater effect. The young man was instantly restored to full strength.

“Bind him!”

The mage, wielding a short staff ideal for swift casting, summoned vine-like tendrils from the earth, aiming to restrain Henry.

However, Henry displayed no openings. Through masterful swordplay and precise control of distance, he handled every threat with calculated composure.

“Burn them to ashes!”

The moment Henry distanced himself slightly from the young adventurer to avoid the creeping vines, another mage—who had been standing firmly at the rear—fired a massive fireball, about a meter in diameter.

In response to the blazing fireball hurtling toward him at breakneck speed, Henry leapt back, retreating to the spot where the battle had first begun.

“A capable frontline fighter who can follow my blade, a healer who swiftly restores allies to full health, a support mage who disrupts the enemy with precision spells, and an offensive mage who lands heavy attacks with perfect timing. I see… you’re not half-bad.”

Henry calmly observed his surroundings.

He was now surrounded by other knights who had rushed over, grasping the situation, making it clear they wouldn’t let him escape.

“Not half-bad, huh? Well, you were strong too, Henry of the Wind Fang. But we won’t lose to you—not even if a tornado shows up!”

The young adventurer declared with confidence, as if the outcome was already decided.

Henry of the Wind Fang. Where he fought, tornados always followed.

Just like Robert the Inferno, who annihilated enemies before they could even draw their swords, Henry’s storms swept through the battlefield, eliminating all in their path.

The young adventurer had been informed by the Guild beforehand and assumed that the tornadoes were conjured through magic.

In this world, supernatural phenomena are most often caused by magic—an art that utilizes mana, the power of demons and spirits.

But the young adventurer had a countermeasure prepared.

That was to endure the storm using his ally’s barrier magic.

Both of the party’s mages were highly skilled. One had several times the average mana capacity and could cast extremely powerful spells. The other had standard mana levels but excelled in precise control and support-based magic.

With these two working together, they believed they could withstand even the chaotic tornadoes that tore through lesser foes.

Of course, if Henry had more mana than both mages combined, or if his close combat prowess proved utterly overwhelming, the young adventurer had planned to use the knights as a shield to flee. But from the earlier exchange, he had concluded that wasn’t necessary.

Henry’s mana levels were average. His swordsmanship was excellent, but with a good healer, the difference could be bridged.

This meant they wouldn’t be overpowered by raw magical force or close-range combat.

As for the possibility of a magic sword, the devastating strike that had obliterated the vanguard of the rear unit must have come from one.

It had been an incredibly powerful attack. However, since he hadn’t followed it up with more, the young adventurer guessed it had the sort of high-risk, high-reward characteristics typical of magic swords.

Most magic swords possess overwhelming power that can turn the tide of battle, but nearly all come with some sort of drawback or restriction.

Naturally, there exist rare magic swords without such limitations—wielders of tremendous, unchecked power—but such weapons are said to number only a few in the entire world.

The trigger for that merciless, overwhelming strike was still unknown, but the young adventurer would allow no opportunity for it to be used again.

There were knights nearby as well.

Even if they couldn’t keep up with the fight, their presence could be a distraction. At worst, they could be used as human shields.

From the young adventurer’s point of view, the situation was completely in their favor. He would take Henry’s head and use it as the first glorious stepping stone for their ascent.

Yes—he was confident. He analyzed the battlefield calmly.

Just as he prepared to launch an attack, partially to eliminate the threat of Henry’s magic sword—

Henry lowered his blade.

“What’s wrong? Thinking of surrendering?”

“No. I was merely waiting for the right number of people to gather.”

It took a moment for the young adventurer to grasp what Henry meant—but then a possibility came to mind.

(Is it the tornado spell!?)

Now was the perfect time to unleash it, with enemies closing in from all directions.

(He’s going to take out the knights first—eliminate the distractions!)

Just as he was about to order the deployment of barrier magic—

“This is your final warning. If you don’t wish to die, turn your backs and flee. Mercy ends for those who remain.”

“…”

It was the calm warning of a man with nothing to prove.

Henry hadn’t been fighting with killing intent until now.

“So be it. That’s your decision, then.”

Despite his final warning, not a single person fled.

Henry raised his blade.

“From this point on, I will kill you all. Magic Sword—Unleashed.”

The moment Henry spoke, the slender sword in his hand began to glow pure white.

“Wind…?”

“!! Damn it! I won’t let you!!”

Faster than anyone else on the battlefield, the young adventurer immediately grasped the situation and charged Henry with all his might, attempting to interrupt the activation.

“The wind! Gahhh!”

But before he could reach him, a violent gust of wind erupted, flinging the adventurer backward.

“Are you okay!?”

“What the hell is going on!?”

“It’s a tornado!! A tornado is coming!! That sword summons a storm! We’ll hold with barriers!”

Realizing they wouldn’t make it if they tried to flee now, the young adventurer stuck to the original plan and chose to defend using barrier magic.

(Damn it! I misjudged! That strike earlier wasn’t from the magic sword!?)

Typically, magic swords are specialized for a single, extraordinary function…

That was why, upon witnessing the overwhelming force of the initial blow, the young adventurer concluded that Henry’s magic sword was the type capable of releasing a single, devastating attack.

After all, there was no clear method to replicate that strike with ordinary magic. Creating a tornado seemed much more plausible by comparison. For that reason, he had separated the two in his mind.

(What kind of magic sword is it?)

Magic swords vary widely. Some contain immense, seemingly inexhaustible power that can be unleashed without restriction, while others draw upon the wielder’s own mana to function.

Depending on its type, their barrier magic might be able to withstand it—or it might not.

(No matter what, for now we endure with the barrier spell. Time is on our side.)

This wasn’t a surprise attack in enemy territory without hope of reinforcements. On the contrary, they were in their own domain.

They had made quite the scene. It wouldn’t take long for others to notice the commotion and send help.

Even if they didn’t earn the credit for Henry’s defeat, the young adventurer figured they could just hunker down within the barrier until support arrived.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, he realized something—

The barrier spell had yet to be cast.

Normally, such a spell would be deployed in mere milliseconds, but even several seconds had passed and still nothing happened.

“What are you doing!? Hurry!”

“I… I can’t cast any magic!”

“What! What’s happening!?”

“This… this can’t be—Mag幻!?”

Mag幻 (Magen)—one of the hidden arts in magic.

A barrier-type spell that floods the surrounding space with the caster’s own mana, creating an environment that is highly favorable to the caster while imposing severe disadvantages on their opponents.

It was an exceptionally powerful spell, but in return, it demanded an immense amount of mana, along with an extraordinary level of control and manipulation.

“But for someone to use Magen… the amount of mana required is—!”

The party’s support mage, who had studied mana theory and honed their control skills extensively, understood the nature of Magen very well.

The spell is essentially a human attempt to mimic the phenomenon caused by high-ranking elemental spirits, whose immense power distorts their surrounding environment simply by existing.

This version, however, forcibly replicates that effect by flooding the area with an overwhelming amount of mana. Thus, immense magical output is a requirement.

Yet—Henry, who should be casting this Magen, showed no signs of releasing that level of mana.

And that wasn’t all. Magen, by its nature, should not completely suppress the use of magic. Even when afflicted by it, one could still force through a spell by focusing and gathering more mana than usual.

But this Magen was different.

It was powerful enough to completely shut down the use of magic.

(This feeling… this presence… it’s just like back then…)

The mage remembered this sensation.

It was the same suffocating pressure they had once felt years ago—when an out-of-control high-ranking spirit of nature had threatened to destroy an entire city.

(There’s no way… no human could possibly wield the power of a high spirit. Unless…!)

“That magic sword… No, wait. Could it be—you possess that power…!?”

The mage desperately tried to deny the conclusion she had reached.
Because if she was right—then they had no chance of winning.

“You figured it out? …But it’s too late.”

As Henry spoke, the wind surged with greater force.

“Everyone, hold on—!!”

The young adventurer shouted, and his companions immediately grabbed onto him. He drove his sword deep into the ground to anchor himself.

“Uwaaaaahhhh—!!”

The wind howled even more violently. Even the knights began to be swept away.

“No, no, no—I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die!”

“God, please… grant us your protection…”

“No… I don’t want to die in a place like this…”

They clung on desperately, trying to resist. But stripped of their ability to cast spells by the Magen, they were helpless—far too fragile.

“Kyah—! Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!”

The first to fall was the firepower mage, the one with exceptional mana reserves.

“Even if it’s a targeted wind—kyah! N-no—aaaahhhh!”

Next was the skilled healer, swept away screaming.

“This… can’t be…”

Then came the final gust.

A precise, forceful wind peeled away the young adventurer’s desperate grip, as if prying apart his fingers—and flung him and his last companion into the roaring heart of the tornado.

“Nooooooo—!!”

Thus, the raging storm cleared away the unworthy. All that remained was the knight still trapped within the barrier.

“If they could have endured that… or chosen to flee when warned… they might have amounted to something,” Henry muttered.

“Stay back! Don’t come near me!”

The knight tried to retreat from the slowly approaching Henry, but the barrier confined him.

“No… no… I don’t want to die… please, stay back…”

He could now clearly see the spiraling mass of compressed wind forming around the magic sword Henry held—and the image of that first earth-splitting strike flashed in his mind.

And in that moment, he understood intuitively.

That devastating blow had been unleashed by the magic sword.

“Farewell.”

A single gust of wind.

A lethal thrust, powerful enough to pierce the supposedly impenetrable barrier—and everything beyond it.

The Magic Sword: Wilma.

It holds within it a force of overwhelming wind, so powerful that its mere existence influences the environment, whipping up violent gales around it.

Its true nature was never known through the tornadoes it summoned. Instead, it was remembered simply as an Endless Storm.

And one day, that Endless Storm vanished without a trace. In its place, a single magic sword remained.

The one who took that sword in hand possessed an extraordinary affinity for wind magic—and a control over mana that defied human limits.

Such a person could command even the wind spells cast by others, or even those produced by the sword itself.

Wielding a power akin to that of a spirit, the rampant storm that once tore through the world was now reborn as refined magic, tamed by its master.

With that power, he could summon a tornado that wiped out all who blocked his path.

With that power, he could unleash a selective storm—capable of sparing the innocent while sweeping away only his enemies.

With that power, he could focus the might of the wind into a single, peerless thrust that pierced and annihilated everything in its way.

The man who had mastered nature’s fiercest fang now wielded it for the sake of those who still resisted, even in the depths of hell.

And that man, one of the legendary Four Blades—who destroys all that stands in the way of those brave enough to keep fighting from the abyss—his name is:

Henry of the Wind Fang.