Night had fallen, casting deep shadows over the thick forest. I crouched on a high branch, peering down at the bandits’ base—the place where they had taken Cherry. Tall, jagged logs formed the wall surrounding their camp, with the tops shaved into sharp spikes to deter anyone from scaling them. At the entrance, two guards stood watch, their eyes lazily sweeping the tree line.
From this distance, it looked like the bandits had claimed an old monster nest, possibly one used by trolls or ogres. Only a band as notorious as this one would dare settle here, overtaking the area with their numbers and ruthlessness. Charging in head-on would be suicide, so I waited, scanning the shadows for any sign of Cherry.
Minutes passed before I saw movement—a single carriage, flanked by torches, rolling toward the gate. As it neared, the driver shouted, “Open the gate!” A mage appeared beside the entrance, casting a levitation spell to lift several thick logs out of the way.
I seized my chance, slipping down from the tree and tailing the carriage under cover of darkness. As the carriage entered the camp, I darted behind it, keeping low. Once we were inside, I quickly veered off to the shadows, taking in my surroundings.
“Did you guys catch anyone?” a rough voice called from the campfire.
“A maid from the castle,” the boss said, voice dripping with satisfaction. “She’ll fetch a nice price as a plaything for the nobles—or anyone willing to pay for her beauty. No one’s to lay a finger on her, or they’ll lose their manhood.”
“Understood, boss,” one of the lackeys replied, nodding.
The boss’s grin twisted. “Good. She’s in the carriage. Bring her to the usual place, like the others we’ve kidnapped.”
“Others?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though inwardly I cursed myself for the slip.
The boss’s gaze snapped toward me, sharp and suspicious. “Are you new?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “Who let you in?”
My heart pounded, but I forced a smirk, raising my chin slightly. “Didn’t Andrew tell you? I’m here to help.”
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“Andrew?” The boss’s voice held a hint of skepticism. I could see him processing the name, trying to place it.
Before he could call me out, I kept going, hoping my bluff would buy me a few more seconds. “Yeah, big guy, rough beard? Said I’d be useful for jobs like this.”
For a moment, I thought it worked—but then the boss’s hand shot to his blade, and his expression twisted in a dark sneer.
“There’s nobody named Andrew in this group.” His voice was low and deadly. “Intruder!”
The camp exploded with movement as over twenty bandits rose, circling me with weapons drawn. The boss stepped back, barking orders as his lackeys closed in, eager for blood.
“This is gonna be a long night,” he sneered, “and it looks like tonight’s supper will be human blood.”
The bandits closed in, and John scanned the scene with a quick, practiced eye: four mages lurking at the rear, hands already weaving ominous spells, and sixteen swordsmen tightening their circle. The boss, confident, lingered in the shadows, watching as his gang surrounded John.
With no time to waste, John lunged forward, blade flashing under the moonlight. He deflected the first bandit’s strike, driving his elbow into the attacker’s jaw and sending him sprawling to the dirt. But there was no time to savor the moment. A second sword came down, grazing John’s shoulder as he twisted away, wincing at the sting.
He counted the mages—each murmuring incantations with hands alight, preparing spells that could turn the fight in seconds. If he didn’t act fast, he’d be overwhelmed. John clenched his teeth and dodged left, avoiding a slash aimed at his torso, then thrust his sword upward, the blade finding its mark in another bandit’s gut. Blood sprayed, and the bandit crumpled, gurgling.
But there was no relief. Two more charged, blades raised. John's muscles burned as he parried, barely keeping up with the relentless attacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the mages begin to summon a fireball, its glow casting an eerie light over the clearing.
“Not so fast,” John muttered, flinging a dagger with pinpoint accuracy. It struck the mage’s hand, the spell dissipating with a flash as the mage screamed, clutching his bleeding fingers.
“Enough of this!” roared the bandit boss, drawing a greatsword that gleamed in the firelight. He advanced, slow but menacing, like a wolf preparing to lunge.
John’s breath came fast, muscles taut as he surveyed the battlefield. He could take down a few more, maybe even dodge a spell or two—but with the boss joining the fray, the odds were grim.
But John only smirked, settling into a fighting stance. “Come on, then,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve faced worse than you.”
The bandits hesitated for a split second, just enough for John to make his move, lunging into the fray with newfound fury. This would be a long night, but he wasn’t planning to be anyone’s supper.