Costuul a city-state standing tall amidst an ocean of pandemonium, turmoil, lawlessness, and mortality. Within its embrace, merchants engage in trade, fearlessly avoiding the clutches of marauding bandits. Families find solace here, shielded from the harrowing threat of loved ones falling prey to enslavers. Moreover, remnants of a bygone regime persist, breathing life into the echoes of the past.

As one explores this City land, they encounter a tapestry of establishments that weave a fabric of normalcy for residents and visitors alike.

A church beckons seekers of solace, while a bustling post office connects hearts across distances. A lively bazaar teems with treasures, a community center binds the spirit of the populace, and a serene park offers respite amidst the urban commotion.

At dusk, a vibrant pub buzzes with life, where multitudes gather, their reasons as varied as the stars in the sky, forming a lively tapestry of humanity.

Within the pub, where the scent of whiskey mingled with the lively banter of patrons seeking respite from the harsh realities of the untamed and unruly lands, the atmosphere was electric.

Flickering lanterns cast a dim glow upon weathered wooden tables and creaky bar stools. Nestled in the corner of the room, a small yet sturdy stage awaited the evening's star.

Liliana

Liliana Masquerade, known as the loli bard, graced the scene in a flowing crimson dress adorned with intricate lace. Her yellow eyes shimmered with a blend of anticipation and curiosity. With a captivating smile, she raised the microphone to her lips, capturing the attention of all in the room.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Liliana's melodious yet resolute voice resonated. "Tonight, I pose a question to each of ya'll! Have you heard the tale of the Wanderer?"

Whispers danced through the air as patrons exchanged intrigued glances. Leaning in, they hung on Liliana's every word. Silence draped the room, awaiting the continuation of her enchanting tale.

"In a realm where governing powers crumble, and chaos reigns, legends have emerged. The Wanderer, a solitary soul venturing through the untamed wilderness, facing unimaginable perils."

Liliana paused, her gaze sweeping the room, capturing the rapt attention of her audience. She continued, her voice imbued with fervor.

"The Wanderer, a symbol of resilience and survival, carries the weight of countless narratives. A nomad in search of solace, redemption, or perhaps an elusive truth."

The crowd remained hushed, enraptured by Liliana's words, their imaginations ignited by the enigmatic figure of the Wanderer.

"Tonight, I stand not only as a singer but as a storyteller. Through my songs, I shall weave tales of the Wanderer's triumphs, sorrows, and the echoes of their footsteps across this unforgiving land."

Having uttered these words, Liliana, the bard, grasped her banjo and settled into her chair on the stage. With her fingers on the strings and her lips touching the microphone, the anticipation of the crowd grew, hushing the pub.

And so, she commenced...

"Little Baru, the enslaver, he'll ensnare forevermore His days of raiding and enslaving have only just begun A year or two this past April, he arrived on our shore Just a frail little lad and nothing more."

Thus, the melody about the enigmatic Wanderer, A figure encompassing a slaver, a lover, and a merchant, Unfolded and resounded throughout the world.

Subaru POV

As I stood on the hill overlooking the bustling Liafus Highway, my gaze fixed on the caravan of weary refugees and determined merchants making their way towards either the Barony of Barriele or the city-state of Costuul, I felt a mixture of emotions stirring within me. This caravan represented the remnants of once thriving towns and cities, now reduced to ruins, as the kingdom crumbled under chaos and destruction. These people sought safety in the safe domains, and it was my duty to Plunder and rob them.

"Hey, boss, you think we can handle them?" Hachins, one of my guys, asked as I reloaded my new invention—an 18th-century musket pistol.

"Yeah, boss, they look pretty numerous," added Camberley, also busy loading his gun.

"Come on, guys! Don't be such cowards. With these new gadgets the boss gave us, everything should go smoothly! Harhar!" laughed Gaston, waving the musket I had made for him.

"Well, I kinda agree with Hachins here, Natsuki-san. They do seem like a big group, and I even spotted a couple of armed guards there," Otto said, peering through his telescope at the passing caravan.

"Relax, guys. With our arsenal, this should be a piece of cake," I assured them, mounted on my ground dragon. The rest of my gang followed suit, each on their own formidable mount.

As we approached the caravan, I spoke with authority, projecting my voice over the sound of the rushing wind.

"When I give the signal, we unleash our firepower. Remember, employ the tried-and-true Steppe Scythian tactics—shoot and scoot. We'll keep moving until all threats are eliminated. Understood?!" I bellowed, urging my dragon forward.

"Aye, aye, boss!" my group responded in unison, ready for action.

As our advance towards the caravan intensified, the commotion among the refugees and guards grew louder, and shouts of alarm filled the air.
"Bandits! Ready yourselves for battle!" a soldier bellowed, hastily issuing orders to the armed guards who scrambled to prepare for the impending clash.

"By the od! EVERYBODY RUN!" exclaimed a frightened peasant woman, clutching her child tightly as she sprinted away. Her desperate plea resonated with the other non-combatants, who followed suit in a frantic attempt to escape the looming danger.

A sly grin crept across my face as I observed the scene unfolding before me. "This should be quite enjoyable," I muttered to myself, relishing the anticipation of the impending confrontation. "Open fire, my Brothers! Crush any opposition that dares stand in our way. Leave no quarter!"

With my command echoing through the ranks, the chaos erupted into a symphony of unleashed firepower. The thunderous roar of weapons reverberated, drowning out the desperate cries of those unfortunate enough to find themselves caught in the crossfire.

With the grace of seasoned performers, we flawlessly executed our meticulously rehearsed maneuvers. We moved like ethereal apparitions, seamlessly infiltrating the ranks of the caravan's security forces, effectively neutralizing their defenses with calculated strikes.

A thunderous BOOM! Once more pierced through the wind as the musket fire erupted, drowning out the sound of our adversaries' futile attempts to form a shield wall. How pitiful it was to witness their feeble reliance on swords and shields against the indomitable power of gunpowder and steel.

"Bossman, those losers don't stand a chance!" Gaston exclaimed triumphantly as we effortlessly dispatched yet another wave of armed guards, their swords clashing against our superior weaponry.

"They're not even putting up a fight, Natsuki-san! I suggest we transition to mop-up tactics," Otto proposed, his shots ringing out as he mercilessly eliminated armed guards and innocent refugees without discrimination.

"Alright, let's switch to mop-up tactics. Let our might trample them underfoot!" I roared with exhilaration as we charged forward, our unified force crushing both combatants and civilians beneath our unforgiving presence.

Through our impeccable coordination, we swiftly dismantled the caravan's security apparatus, leaving a trail of incapacitated stragglers in our wake. It was a resounding victory, a testament to our skill and precision, serving as a stark reminder that our talents could be harnessed for more audacious and lucrative endeavors.

As the dust settled, we meticulously surveyed the scene, ensuring that no one had managed to slip away. With our mission accomplished, a surge of pride washed over us.

The lifeless bodies of armed guards and innocent civilians littered the battlefield, an indiscriminate aftermath of the destruction wrought by our overpowering might. Humans and demihumans alike had been obliterated, their hopes and dreams extinguished under the weight of our dominance.
With the caravan now subjugated, Otto broke the silence, seeking my guidance for our next course of action. "Natsuki-san, what are your orders?"

"Line them up and segregate them," I commanded, a twisted sense of amusement coloring my voice. "Place the women and children on one side and the adult men on the other."

"Copy that Natsuki-San," Otto replied dutifully, swiftly executing my instructions alongside the rest of our comrades. The chaos of battle had now given way to the calculated orchestration of dominance. This dark game we played promised to be quite the spectacle.

It took a few minutes for our comrades to corral the men, women, and children, effectively segregating them into their respective groups. As they carried out this task, I took a momentary respite, retrieving a piece of linen and yarn from my pocket. Engaging in the art of weaving, crafting a doll became my temporary pastime, a brief escape from the plunder and raid that consumed my days.

Once the captives were lined up, Otto cheerfully informed me of their successful segregation. "It's done, Natsuki-san," he reported, his voice carrying a sense of satisfaction.

"Good," I responded, tucking the yarn and wool back into my pockets. Mounting my horse, I rode towards the rows of captives, bellowing commands to my comrades.

"Men, ready!" I announced, gripping my pistol musket once again, its weight familiar and comforting. Otto, Rachins, Gaston, and Camberley mirrored my actions, raising their weapons in unison.

"Let this serve as a lesson to any caravans that dare to fight back," I declared, addressing the captive figures before us. "No more, Mr. Nice Guy, no more discrimination between combatants and non-combatants."
A voice of defiance broke through the tension as one of the merchant men in the line spoke out. "What are you going to do? Strip us naked and steal our belongings again?! You are nothing but scum!"

I burst into laughter, a harsh and unsettling sound that echoed across the open plains. "Hahahaha, even better," I replied with a chilling grin, raising my pistol and taking aim.

BANG! The deafening gunshot pierced the air, and with a thud, the body of the merchant slumped lifelessly to the ground—his story, his dreams, were extinguished in an instant.

"Open fire! Do not cease until I give the order!" I bellowed to my comrades, the command echoing through the ranks. Without hesitation, they raised their pistols, unleashing a torrent of bullets upon the captive men, their violent symphony echoing through the desolate landscape.

After ruthlessly mowing down the adult men in the caravan, taking the lives of 29 individuals, a profound shock settled over the women and children who remained. Within moments, their collective grief erupted into a symphony of cries, reverberating through the air, each wail representing a shattered family.

Wives mourned the loss of their husbands, mothers mourned the loss of their sons, and children were robbed of their fathers and grandfathers. It should have been a somber and sorrowful moment, but within me, there was nothing. Emptiness enveloped my being, shielding me from any flicker of remorse.

As the devastated family members rushed toward their fallen loved ones, a young girl with yellow-green eyes that exuded an air of mysticism stepped forward. Her face contorted with anger, her eyes burning with fury.

"Hey! Why are you doing this, MISTER?" she spat, her voice dripping with rage and her gaze piercing through me.

"YOU DARE?! ill take care of this rut Bossman," said Gaston as he made a move to intervene, but I waved him off, gesturing for him to allow the girl to speak her mind.

"It's fine; let her talk," I calmly responded, a wicked grin etched on my face.

The young girl's fury seemed to intensify as she took a moment to collect herself. "No... that's not all, Mister," she seethed, her voice laced with determination. "Puppy! ATTACK!"

With those words, she released an unseen small puppy from her hand, which began to grow and transform into a grotesque and menacing creature. Its once adorable appearance twisted into something nightmarish, a threat that would surely tear me apart if it reached me.

IF.

In an instant, another wave of gunfire erupted from Otto, Rachins, Gaston, and Camberley. The hellish creature was torn to shreds, reduced to nothing more than mincemeat. Blood stained the field, a testament to the power of our firearms.

The child stood there, a mix of shock and disbelief etched on her face. Her secret weapon had been swiftly dispatched, much to her astonishment.

"Heh, the wonders of guns, I suppose," I chuckled, my tone dripping with arrogance. "But, it appears you made an error in judgment, little missy..."

Before she could utter another word, I raised my gun and aimed it directly at her.

*BOOM*

The explosion that followed was grotesque, reminiscent of a watermelon meeting an untimely demise. Her head disintegrated under the force of the bullet, her unfinished plea silenced forever.

"Damn, Natsuki-san, that's harsh," Otto muttered, unable to fully comprehend the extent of my ruthlessness.

A smirk played across my lips as I dismissed Otto's concern.

"Harsh? Hardly. The brat deserved it for attempting to attack me," I retorted, my voice laced with contempt. "Now, let's not waste any more time. We have a caravan to plunder before any more unnecessary drama erupts."

With my words, the group wasted no time, swiftly descending upon the carriages and lifeless bodies, scavenging for any valuable items they could find.

afterward, we proceeded to strip the belongings from the women and children. Without a hint of remorse, we plundered their meager possessions.

After all, it is the strong's right to consume the weak.

"Alright, that's everything, Natsuki-san," Otto reported, signaling the completion of our looting spree.

"Good. Round them up. We're taking them all to Hanumas," I declared, riding to the front while the rest of the group began to corral the captives.

"Alright, Cockroaches, listen up! You'll be marching with us. Any attempts to escape will be met with gunfire. If you fall behind, if you stumble, if you falter in any way, you will be shot. Understood?!" Gaston bellowed, his voice filled with authority, as they herded the captives toward Hanumas.

And so, our journey towards Hanumas began, a day's walk stretching ahead of us. However, the monotony of the march soon bore down upon us. Seeking a diversion from the mundane, I took the lead and turned to one of my passions when I'm not engaged in raiding or plundering.

I began to sing a song I knew from my home before being transported to this new world flowed from my lips, with a small edit to reflect our current situation:

"All day I've faced a barren waste, Without the taste of water, cool water. Old Wil and I with throats burnt dry, and souls that cry for water, Cool, clear water."

And sang I did till my throat was dry and my tongue was parched.