In the dark of the night, Colin, Kaldor, Elara, Darian, and Bastiat crouched among the vegetation, silently observing the bandits' lair.
The dim moon cast a pale light over the terrain, faintly illuminating their hooded figures.
Kaldor, wearing leather armor, held a longsword at his side, the night highlighting the sharp lines on his face.
Elara was wrapped in a dark cloak, concealing her clothing. Her blonde hair was tied up neatly, and she held a dark wooden staff.
Darian stood alert with his bow in hand, dressed in light and dark garments that skillfully camouflaged him in the night.
Bastiat, with his black cloak and piercing eyes, looked like a shadow among shadows. His blond hair fell unassumingly over his face.
Colin stood there, cloaked in darkness, his cap casting a shadow over his eyes, and his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.
A worried thought crossed his mind as he remembered Safira, left behind at the inn for her safety.
But this was no time to think about her—her life would soon be at stake.
In silence, Bastiat signaled for them to split up.
One of the bandits, barely able to stand from drunkenness, staggered outside the cave and began to urinate.
Focusing, Darian pulled an arrow from his quiver and drew his bow, aiming at the bandit.
Swoosh!
The arrow flew, piercing the bandit's head and pinning him against the stone wall of the cave.
Moving stealthily, they approached the cave entrance.
Another bandit appeared, scratching the back of his head and yawning.
It was Bastiat's turn to act.
He crept up from behind, covered the man's mouth, and plunged his dagger into his jugular, dragging the body into the bushes.
Crap! Thought Bastiat. The leader is at the back. He should've been near the entrance to make our job easier!
Darian retrieved his arrow, and they advanced closer to the cave.
Elara stayed behind in a safe spot while the four of them moved forward silently.
Like Bastiat, Colin approached a chair where another bandit was resting.
He covered the man's mouth and slit his throat.
There was something mesmerizing about watching the blood flow like that, and he narrowly avoided being splattered.
The women in the cage were startled, but Kaldor quickly signaled for them to remain silent.
Drawing his sword, he delivered a clean, precise strike that broke the lock.
He opened the cage, and the women began to slip out quietly, their eyes wide with fear and hope.
Colin observed a man on the ground, snoring softly. With a wicked grin, he covered the old man's mouth and drove his sword straight into his throat.
The old man's eyes snapped open as he struggled to free himself, but Colin kept his hand firmly over his mouth, letting him choke on his own blood.
It satisfied him in a way no woman ever could.
Bastiat did the same with his dagger, and Darian with the sharp tips of his arrows.
Yawning, one of the bandits opened his eyes and saw hooded intruders killing his companions one by one.
"Invasion!" he shouted, waking everyone. "We're being invaded!"
Swoosh!
Darian's arrow pierced his eye, but it was too late. The rest of the bandits woke up in a hurry—some pulling on their pants, others still drunk, fumbling for their swords.
"Shit!" the leader roared, scrambling to his feet. "Finish them off!"
Kaldor drew his sword from his back and braced himself.
The first bandits barely had a chance—he cut through them with brutal efficiency, splitting bodies in half and dismembering limbs with each swing.
Some bandits managed to grab their crossbows, but Kaldor deflected the bolts with his sword, clearing the way for Darian to finish them off with precise shots.
A huge bald man grabbed two axes and charged at Kaldor.
Their blades met with a resounding clang, and Kaldor felt the crushing force of the blow.
"He's strong!" Kaldor thought, gritting his teeth.
The intruders were blocking the entrance, leaving the bandits no choice but to confront them head-on.
But Bastiat and Darian stood firm, refusing to let anyone get past while Kaldor was engaged with the brute.
Colin decided to leave the chaos to them and focused his gaze on the leader.
"He's mine."
Running low to the ground, Colin advanced, dodging the frenzied bandits and locking eyes with the leader, who met his challenge with a wicked grin.
With a swift motion, the leader kicked a scimitar upward, caught it midair, and imbued it with mana.
"So, you're the challenger?"
Clang!
Their blades clashed, and Colin felt the shock vibrate through his arms as his sword recoiled.
The leader grinned, spinning his scimitar with ease.
"Scared, kid? I haven't even warmed up yet, hehe!"
But instead of fear, Colin felt exhilaration.
With a quick step, he stomped on the handles of two daggers lying on the ground, flipping them into the air and catching them effortlessly.
"Having fun, kid?"
Colin narrowed his eyes, preparing to strike.
"I haven't even started yet!"
The fight resumed with a flurry of rapid blows, their blades colliding in bursts of sparks that momentarily lit up the dark room.
His mana has weakened, Colin realized. I see—he'll only use it efficiently at crucial moments. Better for me!
Colin leapt and spun in the air, avoiding the leader's blows with acrobatic movements, his daggers slicing the air in precise responses.
The bandits' leader, meanwhile, manipulated the mana in his sword, creating luminous cuts that left trails of energy in the air.
His blows were powerful and precise, each movement charged with the intention of mowing down Colin.
That boy! Thought the leader, smiling. He's not an amateur, he must be an experienced bounty hunter!
The fight became a deadly dance, with both combatants displaying exceptional skills.
Colin, with his agility, was able to slip between the leader's attacks, slashing with his daggers. However, the leader's mana imbued sword gave him a significant advantage in terms of raw power.
The blows were swift and devastating, requiring Colin to use all his skill to avoid them.
The fight went on without a clear winner, each move being countered by an agile response.
That bastard, he won't give ground! Thought the leader.
Come on, keep spending your mana! Thought Colin.
The lair echoed with the metallic sound of clashing blades, creating a symphony of war.
On the other side, Kaldor remained engaged with the brute, with Bastiat and Darian supporting him.
The clash was fierce, Kaldor's sword meeting the enemy's brutal blows with unyielding strength.
Bastiat moved nimbly around the brute, searching for gaps in his defense to strike with his dagger.
Meanwhile, Darian positioned himself at a safe distance, using his bow to fire precise arrows at their formidable opponent.
The scene was chaos—a whirlwind of blades, axes, and arrows, with the combatants locked in a deadly choreography.
Tsk!These bastards are weak, but they're annoying! Kaldor thought, gritting his teeth as he delivered skillful blows, trying to disarm the brute.
Bastiat focused on quick, precise cuts to vulnerable areas, his dagger flashing like a shard of light in the darkness.
Darian, ever the strategist, maintained a calculated position, loosing arrows with deadly accuracy.
He won't give me any openings! Darian thought, his eyes narrowing. Come on, just a little more and we'll bring him down!
The brute, for his part, displayed impressive stamina.
His axes swung with brutal force, countering Kaldor's attacks and retaliating with savage strikes.
Bastiat dodged skillfully, weaving in and out of danger, but the brute's relentless assault left little room for mistakes.
Darian's arrows rained down—some deflected by the brute's armor, others hitting their mark—but the giant seemed unfazed, his resilience unnerving.
He's a more advanced power user than me, Darian realized, but it doesn't matter. We'll win!
The battle reached its climax as Kaldor, Bastiat, and Darian synchronized their attacks with perfect timing.
Clang!
Kaldor delivered a precise blow, disarming the brute of one of his axes.
Seizing the opening, Bastiat lunged, his dagger striking deep into an exposed gap in the brute's armor.
At the same moment, Darian released an arrow that found its target—piercing the brute's knee with deadly precision.
Schtick!
The brute, now at a disadvantage, struggled fiercely to stay on his feet.
"We'll win!" roared Kaldor, clenching his fists around his sword.
Clang!
Kaldor struck the final blow, driving his sword through the brute's chest, while Bastiat plunged his dagger into the brute's ribs. The battle ended with the fall of the brute—but not without cost.
Kaldor, Bastiat, and Darian stood exhausted, each bearing wounds from the confrontation. Kaldor had a deep gash on his arm, Bastiat was covered in bruises and scratches, and Darian winced from a wound on his leg—an ambush from a bandit who had caught him off guard. Few bandits remained, but the trio still felt vulnerable—until a warm yellow light engulfed them, mending their wounds.
"I'm here!" shouted Elara from the cave entrance. "Go!"
Engaged with Colin, the leader of the bandits noticed his most powerful minion collapse in the distance. His eyes flickered with momentary shock before he leaped back.
"What's wrong?" teased Colin, gripping his weapon tighter. "Are you afraid?"
"Of you? Hehe! You'd think so!"
Mana surged through the leader's blade, glowing with even greater intensity. Colin felt a shiver run down his spine as he met the leader's malicious gaze, the scimitar gripped tightly in his hands.
"That was fun, but that's enough!"
Whoosh!
The leader unleashed a horizontal, arcing slash toward Colin. Colin dodged just in time—but he wasn't the target.
Squelch!
Kaldor barely had time to react before his body was cleaved in half. His torso flew across the cave, blood spraying like a crimson mist.
"One less!" sneered the leader, exploiting the group's shock. "You shouldn't get distracted, young man!"
Schlck!
His scimitar pierced Colin's stomach with an almost imperceptible movement. Colin's eyes widened in disbelief as blood poured from the wound.
"That was fun. And thanks—now I don't have to share my coins with anyone, hehe!"
With a twisted grin, the leader wrenched the blade free, letting Colin collapse to the ground.
"Colin!"
Darian, enraged, drew his bow and fired an arrow at the leader.
But with mana surging through his legs, the leader dodged effortlessly, appearing behind Darian in an instant.
"Too slow, kid!"
Swish!
The scimitar flashed, and Darian's head flew off, a crimson arc tracing through the air before his body crumpled to the ground.
The leader turned to face Elara and Bastiat, his blood-drenched blade gleaming under the dim light. A Machiavellian smile twisted his features.
Elara's entire body trembled uncontrollably. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed, her staff clattering to the ground. Hands gripping her temples, she let out a harrowing scream, her mind shattering under the weight of the carnage before her.
"Elara!" Bastiat shouted desperately. "Pull yourself together! Elara!"
"It's no use, boy," the leader said, his voice dripping with mockery. "She's traumatized. Don't worry—I'll leave her alive. I need to round up the slaves you freed."
"You…" Bastiat growled, gritting his teeth as he took a fighting stance.
"You're still going to fight? Hehe! What courage!"