When watching others fight, Steven always enjoyed laughing and joking around. But when it came to an actual battle, he had no interest in talking trash.
Any victory speech could wait until the fight was over—during a battle, the only thing that mattered was fighting. Talking wouldn't add extra damage, after all.
So, after drawing his sword and slicing off the arm of the old village chief who had tried to sneak up on him, Steven barely hesitated before swinging his Netherite Sword again.
He didn't give the old man any time to react. Even the female Inquisitor couldn't clearly see how Steven had moved. A flash of sword light shimmered coldly in the air, and in the next moment, the old man collapsed onto the ground.
Both his legs had been severed at the knees. Perhaps because the cut had been too fast, he only let out a muffled groan of pain after he had already hit the ground, as if his body had just caught up with what had happened.
In just a brief exchange, the old man—who had been fine moments ago—had been reduced to a limbless stump by Steven.
But could Steven really be blamed for this? If the old man had chosen someone else to attack, maybe things wouldn't have ended this way. But he had to go after Gladiia, who was standing right next to Steven.
"If you had come at me instead, I might've just laughed it off as a bit of entertainment. But targeting an amnesiac girl? Do you even have any shame?"
After making sure the old man was no longer a threat, Steven's grin returned as he crouched beside him.
His cuts were precise—just enough to ensure the old man wouldn't die from blood loss right away.
Like Steven had said, he didn't mind being attacked himself. But he couldn't tolerate anyone targeting the people around him.
After all, he knew his own strength, but he couldn't always be sure if those beside him could handle such threats.
So before anything else, he had to eliminate this danger as soon as possible.
"Hey, little one over there! Can you handle those troublemakers? If you can't, why don't you draw your sword? You won't always solve things with a scabbard, you know. They're taking advantage of your kindness. As a law enforcer, sometimes the only way to protect more people is to be tougher."
Steven called out to the young girl still caught up with a group of villagers who were preventing her from breaking free.
Seeing that the second wave of villagers was even weaker and more pitiful than the last, he couldn't help but sigh.
From the very beginning, the girl had hesitated to draw her sword against the villagers, exposing her weakness. That was precisely why, when the village chief called for another group to block her, he had chosen nothing more than a bunch of sickly and frail villagers.
The softer someone's heart was, the harder it would be for them to strike down the elderly and the weak.
That old man might have been useless in a fight, but he certainly knew how to manipulate people.
No wonder he had dared to turn back in the chaos.
The only thing he hadn't accounted for was that he was far stronger than he had imagined.
"I don't need someone like you telling me what to do. Just take care of yourself, Ægir."
Although she was briefly shocked by Steven's sudden sword strike, the young girl quickly recovered, snorting in defiance before once again raising her lantern high, forcefully suppressing the approaching villagers.
Perhaps Steven had a point, but she had her own beliefs to uphold.
"Quite the principled one, huh? I like that. She's much more likeable than you. If only you were more like her, we wouldn't be in this mess, would we?"
Shaking his head as he watched the girl, Steven then turned his attention back to the old man, who was gritting his teeth to keep himself from screaming in pain.
"You lapdog of the Inquisition."
The old man spat out the curse through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with hatred as he glared at Steven.
"Oh? Wasn't this just between us? Why are you suddenly trying to put a label on me?" Steven still looked as calm as ever, even taking the time to carefully go over the sequence of events. "I don't know what kind of love-hate relationship you have with the Inquisition, but the reason you're in this situation right now is because you tried to attack my friend. Can you at least get your priorities straight?"
He shrugged, unfazed by the old man's fury.
"I told you before—you two fight it out, and I'll believe whoever wins. But you were the one who ran away, and now you're turning around to curse at me?"
His words completely shut the old man up, leaving him with nothing to refute.
"And one more thing—between the two of us, aren't you the real lapdog here? The village chief who betrayed humanity and sided with the Seaborn... Mr. Pande?"
Steven's smile widened as he read the title floating above the old man's head: [Fanatical Devotee of the Deep Sea: Pande].
That was why Steven had only been here to watch the fun. He had never believed a single word the old man had said from the beginning.
After all, his title had already given him away, and Steven wasn't blind.
"..."
"You don't understand a thing! What's wrong with working with them if it means survival? No, they are our kin—while you, the Inquisition, you're the real monsters, the ones devouring us from the land!"
After a brief silence, the old man roared in fury.
He didn't know how Steven had figured out his identity, but at this point, there was no hope of escape. He might as well lay everything out in the open.
Were those creatures from the deep sea truly monsters? If not for them, this village would have perished long ago.
Where was the Inquisition when they were suffering in poverty? Where were they when the villagers were starving?
It was the Seaborns who brought them food, who gave them the chance to survive. And yet, the Inquisition wanted to take away even that last shred of hope. How could the villagers not hate them?
But Steven didn't care.
Even if he did know, he'd probably just shrug and move on. He certainly wouldn't sympathize with them.
The only thing that mattered to him was that these villagers had tried to lay a hand on someone by his side. That was the only thing relevant to him.
"You heard that, didn't you? He just admitted to betraying humanity. I have nothing to do with him."
Even after hearing the old man's outburst, Steven's expression remained unchanged. He simply turned to the approaching young Inquisitor, who had just finished dealing with the other villagers, and offered a casual explanation.
"I'll leave him to you for judgment. But before that, I have one last question."
Standing up, Steven nudged the old man's severed leg with his foot, showing absolutely no respect for his elder.
"What exactly made you so determined to go after my da—uh, companion? I'm really curious. Is she really that special?"