I may be injured but this fool's view of others... I understand why he was kicked out of his Tribe. He approached me like this because he used his underlings to thin me out... did he account for the wolfman, too?

The time for words are over and Ronin's thoughts merely a moment of calm before the storm. Without any MP, Ronin's combat power lowers drastically; his swordsmanship is better generally for offensive combat, but even his Basic spells using compound elements could completely turn the scales of battle. Thunder and Gaia were his strongest compounds as he relied more on Nature than Life, but few magical swordsmen in the mainland also had access to Lightning, Charcoal, Light, and Sound elements. Four-element mages aren't uncommon but most of them didn't undertake compounding elements due to the depth of their complexity and power compared to mastering a balance between paired elements. A good comparison is that Lightning often lost out in favor of dual-element Fire and Water magic that could create far more diverse combat power.

Their limits were low but most mages that took both elements of a pairing had broad options. Compound mages like Ronin need extensive training and often rarely ever grew their magic to Advanced-stage spells despite the power their compound element can bring to bear. His skills may be best for facing off against multiple opponents, but nearly all magic is dedicated to single-target combat save for those at Advanced and Master level.

If I had even half of my bar, I could probably finish him off with a single use of Sky Slicer... I told the wolfman that it'd work better if he dealt with people like this.

The bandits make the first move: the leader points at the wolfman with his free hand's thumb, grinning down at Ronin.

"You lot take the wolf. This one made a promise so he better not disappoint."

"Yes sir," one of them grunts, turning and charging at the wolfman. Ronin's savior doesn't wait to let loose a bolt, hitting the peppy pseudo-leader in the shin and making him drop to the ground screaming. The other three don't hesitate and keep charging, forcing the wolfman to turn and run back through the gates with them in hot pursuit.

In his current state, Ronin didn't have a choice in whether he wants to turn his back on this bandit to help the wolfman or not. Ronin's injured arm reaches back, unfastening the tie in his filthy hair and letting his hair fall down to his shoulders.

"He's not as dangerous but your men will die." His red eyes look at the corpses in the camp, taking a quick mental count of weapons left by the slaughtered and even taking note of the wounded man trying to stagger up to his feet.

"That's fine," the stagnante bandit laughs. He shifts his axe to his other hand and turns slightly, swinging the axe down and into the back of his minion. Ronin could strike but instead remains still, listening to the pained crying moments before a second hacking strike silences him. The leader hoists his bloodied weapon back up, finally turning a murderous gaze onto Ronin. "This place is just a side-gig for me. The Red Tribe teaches us that weak ones die first."

Red Tribe... he follows the evil goddess.

Ronin's eyes narrow, stepping back a single step with his foot on the back of a cropse. Albeit the positioning in his corpse pile isn't great for his own stance, it also acts as a natural movement barrier to his opponent.

"Then you must have been exceptionally weak that they didn't even kill you when they cast you out."

The native bursts into a blood-craving laugh, finally taking his large axe in both hands. "You'll be the judge of that won't you, stagnante!?"

His form launches forward with great speed, moving half the distance between them whilst Ronin hoists his sword up and back over his head. One of the bodies catches on the tip of their leader's foot, launching upward in a running punt toward the Londelian. Ronin's emotionless gaze takes the attack in, taking a deep breath and cutting in a single motion. Although the quality of his sword isn't great and his bond level is low, Ronin cleanly cuts through the man and sends his body's pieces scattering around him.

"So merciless," the giant laughs, appearing as the parts split. His axe follows low, arcing upwards from the ground toward Ronin's groin.

Ronin merely pushes up and steps backward, using the corpse to throw himself a few inches so the axe rockets up where he had been but doesn't hit him. His longer bangs fluttering with his motion, however, get a trimming. The look of frustration on his foe's face merely draws a bored sigh from him.

"The dead have no place in a battle between the living. First lesson: a battlefield is no place for mercy."

Ronin's sword rises again, catching the head of the axe on the flat of the blade. The bandit grits his teeth, twisting and pulling the axe to attempt to disarm the swordsman.

The motion of the axe, however, doesn't remove the grip of the owner. Ronin's eyes glaze over and he feels his SP wrap around his entire figure.

Ghostman Motion: Start.

A twisting axe can disarm a swordsman in many ways, particularly when the axe-wielder's size and strength are vastly superior. But Ghostman Motion is the answer to this: barring the use of skills intending to disarm, Ghostman is a Basic-skill used by foreign elites in their earlier days or against untrained soldiers. The Land of Stagnation primarily focuses on hunting and most of its veterans are ex-criminals or people in the strongest of tribes; the Red Tribe may exercise might as law, yet no evil group teaches their young fighters a basic skill that can upset them.

Ronin's body lifts up off the ground and follows the twisting pull of the axe, effortlessly tossing himself around and up above the bandit before the man can blink. He turns his bald head and looks back, panicking and thrusting his hand out to grab Ronin's immediate thrust.

"Tch," he winces. The blood from his hand is worth stopping the blade in his eyes. "No running away, you-"

"Who said I'm running?"

Ghostman Motion: End.

The axe swings through Ronin's shoulder, effortlessly slicing through and causing the body to vanish. The bandit immediately turns back, this time forming a barrier of SP all but an inch away from his spine. Ronin's sword sparks and grinds against it fruitlessly before the defensive skill pushes him back, forcing him to crash into one of the tents.

Damn; he saw through it!?

Ghostman Motion's true intent isn't to strike an enemy at first: creating an illusory veil using SP, the user can trick an opponent into giving them an opening. Creating blood and pain in an illusion isn't hard, but keeping someone snared in an illusion is much harder when you're thrown away with your sword. Ronin had to quickly maneuver back into his blind spot to launch that attack, but it looks as if this native's skills aren't entirely barren.

The shadow of his opponent appears above him, Ronin rolling alongside the tent's wall just as the axe cuts a gaping hole in it. He stumbles clear and turns, gripping the sword in both hands to attempt a swing; the sloppy counter meets the man's arm, another barrier stopping the sword and forcing Ronin to further retreat while the large guy merely laughs.

"Whoa there," his voice mocks. "Trying to cut my arm off with something that weak? I blocked you once already... what makes you think you can cut me with a basic attack."

Ronin doesn't satisfy him with an answer, closing his eyes behind his long hair and taking another deep breath.

"Taking your eyes off me!? You're a bigger fool than I thought!"

Two red-orbs open and Ronin ducks on pure instinct, feeling the fist pass above him. The bandit grits his teeth above and thrusts his knee forward at his face, yet Ronin snaps his outward-facing blade's hilt into man's thigh just above and behind the thigh.

In a battle against someone larger... fight smarter.

Sheer size can work against an opponent once they get in close; the knee strike may have been easier to land with Ronin kneeling, but all that momentum immediately turns against the bandit when the hilt's bottom rams into the side of it. Ronin isn't very strong but his training in Londelia focuses on tactics to attack the body in all ways using a blade.

His opponent yells out, yet more importantly, he loses his footing as spasms and cramps explode in his leg. All the motion tears at the muscles Ronin's hilt crushes down against the bone. The strike connects with Ronin's chest instead, knocking him away while the bandit collapses backwards with his own motion.

"FUCK!"

The man groans, clutching at his thigh and gritting his teeth harder than before. The shade of red in his face tells of the pain even if he doesn't cry out more, using his axe as a crutch while Ronin shakily climbs back to his feet.

"What did you do to me, foreigner!?"

Ronin's vision is darker, the pain of some of the wounds opening back up from the violent explosion of motion moments ago compounding with the pressure of his chest. The muscles struggle to adapt to the strike he just took, particularly since it hit him where the bandit had struck him with a shield multiple times. All Ronin understands is that his opponent is baffled and his own body is hardly hanging in there.

"It's called deadlegging," Ronin replies. His posture resumes his two-handed stance again, this time setting his sword down at his side. "It's a tactic... to hit an enemy that doesn't understand the danger of a hilt."

His opponent's disbelief that it's a valid tactic doesn't need to be said; Ronin can see him clutching the injured leg and trying to force motion out of it. Although it isn't fatal or dangerous in itself, forcing motion into a leg when struck like that is exactly how he'd hurt himself even more.

"Yeah right," his opponent scoffs. He extends his leg enough to walk on it but the limp is apparent as he charges again. "Don't treat me like a child!"

Ronin reads the charge well; unlike before where he had to rely on Ghostman Motion, the injury to the bandit's leg is enough to grant any stagnante a moment to retaliate. Ronin dodges his basic strike, stomping on the head of the axe when it swings low so it buries into the ground. The low position of his sword is perfect for attacking the bandit in that instant but instead he reaches out and grabs the man's breastplate straps.

Tear.

His fingers glow with enough SP to snap through the leather securing it over the man's shoulder, moments before a fist crashes into Ronin's gut and knocks him through the air. The smaller of the two flies almost four feet before landing, tumbling into an emptied wooden sword rack and feeling his lungs empty.

Not enough... need.. that armor out of the way.

"Not cutting me is stupid," the man yells, ignoring the dangling straps and freeing his weapon. His leg makes it hard to charge in, so this time he draws his weapon overhead and throws it. Ronin swings at the blade, feeling the weight ripple through his arm despite deflecting it; his body refuses to move, even with the adrenaline still racing in his veins as the man charges in. "What are you doing playing around when I'm about to kill you!?"

The bandit grabs Ronin's rags and tries to lift him. Even if he's free, Ronin's body continues giving out and forces him to lift him entirely. Unfortunately for both of them, the burlap rips and he falls back to the ground just before the bandit's arm can wind back for a punch. Ronin hits the rack and gets a stomp against his chest, feeling his consciousness fading and losing vision before another stomp stirs life back into him.

"Fight back, weakling! You talked so much shit and tried to make a fool of me!? The Londer Butcher? I'll make you my Londer Bitch!"

The man's boot hits him in the side of the head, knocking Ronin to the ground before another kick hits him. Instinct makes him try to swing but the man kicks the sword away.

Ronin feels absolutely powerless and to anyone else who can see no doubt feels the same. But this, too, is part of his plan. The man's good leg is delivering all the kicks, forcing them to lose a lot of power due to his wounded leg being the base. Suffering damage is inevitable in a battle, but the true warriors choose when and where to suffer it so that they can ultimately win.

Without his sword, Ronin looks weak. Without his sword, enemies no doubt would think of how to use him for satisfying their stagnante desires left unfulfilled without a woman. Without his sword, Ronin is as good as dead or worse.

But without his sword, suffering blow after blow on the ground, he's tiring his opponent out. The bruises, bleeding, and pain are all steadily exchanging damage into the bandit that so rapidly felt energetic and eager to punish his foe. Ronin keeps his guard well enough that each kick grows harder and his smile and confidence fades. Brutally beating a man for two minutes takes the energy out of anyone, even someone as powerful as this native.

Ronin waits until he relents and takes his own deep breath, immediately reaching his sword hand out and grabbing his ankle. The massive oaf immediately tries to pull it away, but his exhaustion and wounded leg can't muster the force to pull free. Ronin held onto it all for one decisive attack. The SP in his hand strings around the ankle, netting between the tip of his thumb and the tips of his fingers.

Brother, you were right. Using my skills... who could ever face me?

Assassin's Wire.