Bandits

Afterward, Allen sat cross-legged on the bed, took out the staff and the Energy Stone, placed them in his lap, and closed his eyes to begin recharging the staff. Three hours passed. It had long since grown dark, and both moons hung high in the sky. Allen stood up excitedly, holding his fully charged staff. Unfortunately, he had no way to test its power. He was on enemy territory, after all, and dared not make a commotion.

Seeing how late it was, he realized his stomach had begun to growl. He planned to fill his belly first, then look around the village to find out just who had occupied the entire place. He hurriedly took some rations from his backpack. They tasted awful and were very "dry" indeed. But he could not worry about that now. He would eat his fill first.

After finishing his food, Allen gulped down some water, then wet a towel and scrubbed his face hard. Feeling a little more alert, he gathered all his weapons and equipment and slipped quietly out the door. He moved soundlessly by the entrance, then darted behind a nearby dilapidated house while the two sentries were yawning. Keeping close to the wall, he slowly edged along.

At last, he reached the largest house, which was also the only one with any light inside. As he crept closer, a very gruff voice drifted faintly out. Hearing it immediately brought the word "bandit" to mind. "Boss, this lousy village is too damn poor. There's nothing here. We searched the whole place inside and out, practically tore the houses down, and only found a few gold coins. There's not enough to go around."

The gruff voice launched into a string of complaints before another voice interrupted him. "Boss, what did I say back then? I told you to have the boys on the mountain hurry up because I was afraid that pigheaded baron would slip away. And now look-he got away." This voice was not as gruff as the first and sounded like an ordinary person's.

The boss said nothing, and the gruff voice spoke again. "Well, well, I didn't know that damned baron was such a coward. He ran off before we even got here, and so fast, too. And he calls himself a noble. He's even more afraid of dying than that coward Klin."

After the man finished, the boss finally spoke. "Nobles are all the same. Greedy, cowardly, incompetent. They've long since thrown away every scrap of the honor their ancestors gave them. Too bad we didn't catch him. I really would have liked to see how a so-called noble begged for mercy at my feet." His words dripped with mockery, and his deep voice sounded imposing.

"Boss, there's something I still don't get. Why don't we just kill all those villagers? Keeping them around only wastes food, doesn't it?" The man with the gruff voice spoke casually, as though he were talking about killing livestock rather than unarmed villagers.

The boss answered immediately, though his tone was hardly pleasant. "Idiot. We're bandits, not murderous maniacs. If we kill them, won't we have gained nothing from this raid? Sell all the villagers as slaves. I doubt that old fellow Christerly will turn down this merchandise. As for the women, consider them your reward for this operation."

"Then let me pick first this time, Boss. I want that woman. She actually dared glare at me. Just watch me-" Allen could not listen any longer. He quietly pressed himself against the wall and peered through a hole in it. There were three men inside. Their clothes were clearly different from those of the lackeys outside: they wore brightly colored silk. Polished armor and long blades gleaming coldly also hung beside the main room.

Allen dared not rush in recklessly. No matter how capable he was, he could not take on so many bandits alone. His only option was to find the villagers. Judging from the village's size, they certainly outnumbered the bandits; they merely lacked a capable leader. Having just heard that the noble had fled, Allen guessed that was probably why the outnumbered bandits had managed to occupy the village.

Allen acted at once. He quietly left the house and searched the area. There were many villagers, so they would have to be held somewhere large. He found a place that fit: a shrine used specifically for making offerings to the gods and praying for a good harvest the following year. Every year, all the villagers came there to worship, so it was much larger than the other buildings. It was also the only place that could hold so many people.

Allen was now certain that this was where the villagers were being held. However, there were many guards. If he forced his way in, the bandits would probably tie him down, and then he would be trapped even if he had wings. Rather than rush inside, he had to look for an opportunity.

At first, the bandits kept a strict watch, but as midnight arrived, some of the guards began to grow sleepy. Finally, as dawn approached, Allen made his move. Taking advantage of their drowsiness, he crept up behind them. He killed them one by one using methods similar to a rogue's. This was his first time taking the initiative to kill, and his technique was still somewhat clumsy. He nearly woke the bandits, but they apparently had never considered that anyone might come to rescue the prisoners, so they had not taken their guard duty very seriously.

After killing the first man, Allen killed several more in succession. Only when the bandits smelled blood did they start awake. But Allen reacted quickly too. Just as the last bandit woke and was about to shout, he unleashed a wind blade, killing him on the spot.

This was his first time using the staff. Although it needed recharging after three uses, its power far exceeded his expectations. The wind blade it released was so powerful that even after killing the bandit, it still had enough force to cut a deep mark into a tree trunk.

Allen had no intention of studying the staff's power here. He had to free the villagers. He entered the shrine. It was large, but packed with people. The villagers were tied together in groups of five and ten, while a few bandits slept slumped over a nearby table. Allen approached quietly and took them down one by one.

Then he went over to the villagers. They had all been gagged and could not speak. After untying their ropes, Allen signaled for them not to shout. Once he had freed everyone, a black-bearded old man who looked to be in his fifties stepped forward. "Thank you for saving us, great knight. I'm the village chief. My name is Ge Yali."

Hearing his introduction, Allen had not expected to be addressed as a knight. It was probably because he had entered carrying a longsword and wearing black armor. Even though they had not seen him riding a horse, he already came very close to their image of a knight.

Allen shook his head at the village chief. "I'm not a knight, and we're not safe yet. You don't think I drove off all those bandits by myself, do you?"

The village chief immediately understood. "Tell us what we need to do. We'll follow your orders." Allen looked around, saw the hatred in every villager's eyes, and knew what to do. Just as he was about to rally them, a boy of seventeen or eighteen stepped out of the crowd. "Sir, please hurry and save Yali! Those damned bandits took her away. Those bastards will defile her. Please, sir!"

The Yali the boy spoke of was his fiancée. They had planned to marry that year, never imagining something like this would happen. After learning about the bandits' situation, Allen quickly made arrangements for the villagers.

First, he had to get weapons into their hands, even if they were only sticks and brooms. Allen told some of the young, able-bodied villagers to first take the weapons, clothing, and armor of the bandits he had dealt with outside the shrine, while the children and elderly were to remain there and wait for news. However, the villagers' hatred of the bandits was greater than he had expected. Even the elderly and the women refused to stay behind, wanting to help wipe out the bandits.

Allen did not object. He then led the large group through the village to find weapons, dealing with scattered bandits along the way. Before long, the bandits' main force arrived. By then, the villagers all had weapons, even if they were only things like wooden sticks. But they had numbers on their side, and they had already killed some of the scattered bandits.

Soon, the bandits appeared before them, and the two sides faced off. Three men stepped out from the bandit crowd, clearly their leaders. The one on the left had a brutish face and a big, burly frame. He looked like the very epitome of a bandit. The one on the right held a dark green javelin and wore what looked like finely made leather armor. His appearance was much more ordinary than the man on the left. The man in the middle wore a dark expression and a full beard. With sword-shaped eyebrows, he looked imposing. He also carried a longsword and wore a suit of armor, looking every inch a Warrior.

Allen dared not underestimate them. These three were probably all bandit leaders, and he was unlikely to be able to handle all three at once. He had to find a way to kill one. Of the three leaders, the one in the middle was probably the strongest, and he was probably a Warrior. The one on the left was clearly the strength-based type, while the one on the right was probably a ranged attacker. Allen chose the ranged attacker as his target. The bandits did not know he could also unleash wind blades, so he might be able to kill him with a single strike. Of the three, the javelin thrower looked the easiest to kill.

The most important question now was how to kill him. Before Allen could work that out, the bandit leader roared, "Aaargh! Damn it! You bastard, this was all your doing! Boys, cut him down!"

The instant he finished speaking, the bandits charged. Allen hurriedly rallied the villagers behind him. "To protect our homes, to suffer no more bullying, for Lordaeron-kill these bastards!"

With a roar, the villagers charged in after Allen. His target was the javelin thrower, but the man seemed to have deliberately hidden himself, and Allen could not spot him in the crowd. The Warrior leader soon charged at him, leaving him no choice but to engage him. The Warrior leader had considerable strength and speed, but using some of the techniques Old Jack had taught him, Allen fought him on equal terms. At first, Allen was somewhat flustered, as he had rarely fought other people. But as the battle with the leader continued, he grew increasingly proficient.

Three minutes passed just like that. He was still fighting the leader, but the situation favored their side. They had far greater numbers, after all, and the bandits had already lost quite a few men before the battle began. The bandits began to realize that if this continued, the villagers might finish them off here. Gradually, some began to lose their nerve. They were only bandits, not regular soldiers. Bullying the weak and fearing the strong was their true nature.

The other two leaders also recognized their predicament. The javelin thrower looked toward Allen. He realized that Allen was the reason these villagers were fighting so tenaciously. If Allen died, no one would be left to direct them, and the villagers would grow afraid and stop resisting.

Kill Allen. That became his only thought. The javelin thrower immediately concealed himself and crept closer to Allen. He thought no one had noticed him, but Allen had detected him as he approached. This was thanks to Allen's powerful mental strength, which let him perceive his surroundings. Though its range was very small, the javelin thrower had already come very close to ensure a one-hit kill.

In an instant, Allen thought of an excellent plan. First, he pretended to leave an opening and let the Warrior leader's powerful blow drive him to one side. Seizing that moment, he instantly fired a wind blade at the javelin thrower. The javelin thrower failed to react when Allen drew close, nor did he realize that Allen had already spotted him. Most importantly, he believed Allen posed no threat to him even at this distance. He had never imagined that Allen could use magic.

Seeing that the javelin thrower was about to be killed, the Warrior leader hurriedly hurled his sword in desperation. But it was useless, because Allen had already charged right up to the javelin thrower. Even if the man could dodge the wind blade, he could not also evade the sword in Allen's hand. The sword pierced his body, and at last he closed his eyes, unwilling to accept his end.

The javelin thrower's death completely enraged the Warrior leader. Without even retrieving his sword, he charged over, wanting to punch Allen to death. Allen calmly rolled out of the way of his furious punch.

Seeing his opponent utterly enraged, Allen felt no fear; instead, he was delighted. Angry people were the most likely to make mistakes, and one mistake would give him a chance to kill him. Sure enough, before long, Allen killed the Warrior leader.