Ogden Mad-Eyes and his gang of thieves and bandits rested their backs against a natural rocky outcropping which hid them from the view of travelers who walked the path behind them. They weren’t expecting any targets. This was more of a rest-stop, before heading down to a more prosperous lowland town to sack whoever was on their way there.

In the meantime, they would recoup their energy by partaking in some food, shoot the shit, and be on their way promptly.

“-heard they upped the service pay from three silver to five. They’re getting desperate on the war-front,” One-Eyed Sam gossiped excitedly.

“Ain’t that big a deal,” the lazy Harui drawled. “s’ not like the folks upstairs are shelling out more money.”

Sam looked at Harui in confusion, prompting the latter to explain himself. “Payments come after the first month of service is done. That way, they don’t hafta deal with deserters. Too many people be dying before their first pay, so the Crown gives the remainders more while making others join in greed.”

Ogden spat on the grass. “A pox on the Crown, and a pox on those gullible idiots,” he growled out. “With any luck, the orcs overrun Atheopolis and lets us pick up the pieces and start over somewhere better. Me, I’m thinking south.”

“Gettin’ desperate there, Ogden,” Sam chuckled. “South’s where those beastkin live, and they hate humans almost as much as they hate… well, everyone else, really. Screw ‘em.”

“Further South, dimwit,” Ogden rebuked hotly. “I’d take the long way around and avoid them completely, then take a boat further down south until I hit one of them desert kingdoms, ya know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Harui drawled sarcastically. “Definitely go to the one place in the world where they literally slice your hands off for thievery. That sounds like a nice place to live.”

Ogden chuckled derisively. “See, that’s the difference between you and me. You lack self control. Who said I’d keep being a thief if I made it big? I’m thinking something more legit, you know? Like a tax collector or a-a moneylender! See, that’s legal thievery!”

The gathered men laughed heartily at his joke.

“We could just go legit right now,” Sam chuckled. “Them magic beasties been comin’ around a lot. I even heard tell of monsters comin’ in from the south-west. We could make some coinage selling their parts.”

“We could,” Ogden agreed. “But the bandit life’s got its charms. Battles, plunder, and…” He wore a wide grin. “Women. It’s not the same as buying a whore and y’all know it, so don’t pretend like it is!”

More chuckles. “Mad-Eyes!” Rats, the young look-out, hissed. “There’s people coming in!”

“How many?” Ogden asked, because he knew better than to peak over the rocks himself to get a look. The outcropping was already rather suspicious, so it was no use warning people by peeking their ugly mugs over it.

“Two,” he said. “A man and… a really old guy. They’re wearing backpacks, and are armed with swords, but there’s not much else to ‘em. Is it worth it?”

Ogden looked towards the eager faces of his compatriots. They were all itching for some bloodshed. The bandit life wasn’t just about the money, after all.

Rats alerted them when the two had gotten close enough, and as one, all seven of the bandits jumped over the rocks and rushed down the hill towards the path where the two stood.

Curiously, they merely stopped, and hadn’t turned around to run for their lives. Poor sods looking to die, maybe. Ogden would fulfill their wish, of course. He was kind like that. It was too bad they didn’t bring any women, though.

The seven of them soon arrived and surrounded them completely. Ogden held his spear towards the youngest man, completely ignoring the shriveled up ballsack of a man next to him. “Alright, now,” Ogden rasped at them, “Take out your packs and put down yer weapons, and maybe I’ll let you walk away.”

All they had to do was be smart, and this would be quick and easy. A quick and easy death.

The two of them pulled out their bone swords with a handle wrapped in leather, but they didn’t put them down. No matter. This would be especially easy if all they could tout was animal remains.

Rats charged in first, twin daggers at the ready, eager to prove his worth.

The bone sword came out through Rats’ back, and the young bandit’s knives fell from his grasp. “You do realize,” the young traveller began, “a sword is longer than a dagger, right? How were you even planning on coming close to me?”

The traveller pulled his sword out and took a graceful step back, dodging the spray of blood expertly.

That was it.

The bandits rushed in as one, but Ogden fell back a little, just so he could capitalize on any opportunity that his comrades presented him with.

Slash. Slash. Slash. Slash. Four bandits dead.

The young traveller hadn’t even taken a particularly ready stance. He just waved his sword around, and with each swing, a life was taken.

The traveller parried an axe, but with brute strength, pushed Harui back and swung his sword again, decapitating the bandit cleanly.

Ogden’s knees felt weak. What was this power? He took a step back-

-into the tip of a ready bonesword. The old man stood behind him. Ogden didn’t want to turn around and show his back to the monstrous young man, but knew that standing still would let the old man run him through.

“M-mercy…!” He begged, for that was the only option he had left.

“Mercy?” the old grandfather laughed. “I don’t think I will. Before I dispatch you from this world, I want to inform you that you are no longer a kin of mine. For your crimes against the tribes of the mountains, I will execute you.”

Ogden felt light on his feet suddenly. No… it was simply that he couldn’t feel his feet. He looked down at them, but what blocked his view was the flat of a blade, which protruded out from his chest.

He tried to breathe, but instead coughed blood. He dropped his spear, and-

000

Len

It was easy, disgustingly so. It was like the bandits were running through honey, and into his blade as he swung noncommittally. Len did not use a sliver of his true skill, and yet, this was the difference between a mere mortal and one who cultivated the power of magic.

Perhaps if they were better trained and wore actual armour, like a real soldier would, then they would have presented a challenge, but these weak bandits could not find any fortune fighting in any army, so they resorted to petty thievery against hapless travellers.

It was a flagrant waste of human life, and what truly sickened Len wasn’t how easy it all was, or the harrowing nature of a life and death battle.

It was that he even had to cross paths with these craven louts in the first place. These people were truly the scum of the earth, for what they intended to do to both of them just now, and for what they had done to his kin in the past, especially his parents…

There was a time where he wanted to dedicate his life to Grandma Lenuru’s sword style so he could clean up the mountains and kill all the bandits single-handedly, but the reality of the situation caught up to him. He would never be strong enough to do that, and he wouldn’t risk his comrades on such a foolish journey for revenge.

Now that he did have the power, he found that he would rather not ever have to cross paths with bandits again. Killing them brought him only a feeling akin to washing off his sludge-covered body after having unlocked a meridian.

The very fact that he had to do it was a pain. Revenge was just not a thing that he was really built for. He liked to look forwards, to better things, new things. He also didn’t like how easy it was to kill those people. That wasn’t to say he abhorred killing. It was necessary against the worst sinners, and enemy soldiers, but at the very least, there was ceremony involved. This slaughter was unceremonious, swift

As was custom, they both left the bodies unburied, the highest gesture of shame in the mountains. It meant that, having lived a long and eventful life, there still was nobody who cared for them enough to bury them. Around them, he stabbed their weapons down into the dirt to mark them as the brigands that they were. It could serve as a warning for others of their kind, and a modicum of comfort for passing travellers.

When they were finally on the trail again, Len couldn’t help but feel melancholy at the sight of unfamiliar mountains. He could still see the one closest to the village, if only barely, but the tiny settlement itself was far too diminutive to spot, obstructed by the rolling hills most likely.

They had travelled for more than a week, and as their mission was not yet over, they still could not grace the comfort of home for sometime longer.

Together, he and his grandfather offered a prayer to Astra, for strength to carry on the mission, and for the comfort of home.

The warmth that welled up inside their hearts right afterwards was unmistakably his doing. With redoubled vigour, they were on their way once more, towards a new village.