It was an average night for Kevin Fermi who was in the final term of his middle school. As usual he was nestled in bed while clutching his favourite superhero comic book. For Kevin, superheroes were more than just fictional characters—they were a bridge between childhood wonder and the ideals of courage, justice and hope.
Kevin’s favourite superhero was Alphonso Man, a character whose struggles defined him. Alphonso wasn’t just a powerful hero, he was a symbol of resilience. Despite enduring numerous personal challenge, he faced every adversity with an unwavering smile. Even the superpowers he got by accident came at a huge cost, but he decided to move forward. He never used his powers for selfish reasons and dedicated himself entirely to helping others. His motto was ‘Power yields purpose and ability inspires action’.
Kevin admired him so much so that a poster of Alphonso Man hung on his bedroom wall, serving as a daily source of inspiration.
Today, Kevin could barely contain his excitement. The newest issue of Alphonso Man had just been released and after waiting all day to read it, his anticipation was at its peak. But a mountain of homework had delayed his plans until now.
With the comic in his hands, he began shuffling the pages but then he heard faint footsteps. As he heard the soft creak of footsteps coming up the stairs, Kevin hastily hid the comic under his blanket, switched off his light and feigned sleep.
When his mother entered his room, her eyes fell on Kevin’s ‘sleeping’ form, as his fluttering eyelids betrayed his act. A knowing smile spread across her face, touched by the playful innocence of his deception.
This innocent facade filled her with maternal affection but—no she had to be strict. She couldn’t let him stay up late—not when there was school the next morning. Deciding to play along, she closed the door and pretended to head back downstairs.
The moment the footsteps faded, Kevin couldn’t resist any longer. He pulled the comic out from under the blanket, turned on his bedside lamp and prepared to dive in. But just as he flipped open the first page, the door swung open again. His mother now stood in front of him.
Her face was stern, though her eyes held a glimmer of affection which she worked hard to conceal. “Kevin, what do you think you’re doing? It’s already past your bedtime. You have school tomorrow!”
Caught red-handed, Kevin tried to plead his case. “Mom, it’s just one comic. I promise it won’t take long!”
His mother shook her head firmly. “This comic isn’t going anywhere. You can read it tomorrow. Now, hand it over.”
Kevin considered protesting but he held his mother in the highest respect. Ever since his father’s passing, she had taken care of everything, ensuring that Kevin never felt the weight of their loss. Her sacrifices and unwavering love had taught him the importance of gratitude. With a reluctant sigh, he handed her the comic.
“Good boy,” she said softly, taking the comic and turning off the light. “Goodnight, Kevin.”
“Goodnight Mom.”
As she left the room, Kevin snuggled into bed. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment, but it was outweighed by the deep appreciation he felt for his mom. After all, Alphonso Man himself would have done the same—put others first even when it meant setting aside his own desires…
As Kevin Fermi slept, muffled noises from downstairs stirred him awake. Half-conscious, he glanced at the clock illuminated faintly by the moonlight streaming through his window—it was 2:00 a.m. "Why would Mom be awake this late?" he wondered, trying to ignore the sounds and go back to sleep. But when the noises persisted, curiosity and unease got the better of him.
He slipped out of bed and opened his door quietly. It was then he heard two unfamiliar male voices.
"You sure no one else lives in this house?"
"Yes, just the lady and her son. He's probably sleeping in his room now. She takes him to school at 7 a.m."
Peeking from the staircase, Kevin caught a glimpse of the men. They wore masks and carried themselves screamed ‘textbook robbers.’
Just like people from different professions bring professionalism in their work, some robbers take their jobs seriously too. Their activities involve stalking and surveying the target’s house and figuring out the necessary information as much as they can. These guys had also done their homework.
"Then deal with the kid, too. What if he wakes up?" one of them said, his voice cold and calculated.
Kevin froze. Panic set in as he realized they are coming for him. Nervously, he stepped back, accidentally pushing the door behind him, causing it to shut with a loud bang.
"Oh, shit!" one of the robbers cursed. In an instant, he bolted up the stairs and grabbed Kevin before he could react. A gloved hand clamped over Kevin’s mouth, silencing any chance of a scream. The man hauled him downstairs while the child's muffled protests growing weaker as terror took hold.
When they reached downstairs, Kevin's heart sank at the sight before him. His mother was pinned to the ground, her wrists were tied behind her back and her face gagged with a piece of cloth. One of the robbers stood over her, holding a knife to her throat.
"This is why I told you to be careful!" the man reprimanded his partner. "You knew there was a kid here. What if he'd screamed or called the cops?"
Kevin struggled in the grip of the other man, biting and writhing in a desperate attempt to break free. His efforts stopped cold when the robber holding his mother snarled, "If you scream or bite or pull any other crap like that again, your mother dies."
The second robber, still restraining Kevin, pulled out a knife and pressed it lightly to his neck. "Same goes for you woman. You try anything and he is done."
The two robbers dragged Kevin and his mother to the living room. Then they forced her to hand over her jewellery, cash and valuables.
While she was taking out the jewellery the man pointing knife at her tried to harass her. Kevin’s eyes brimmed with tears as he watched. He couldn’t stand the sight of his mother, who had worked tirelessly to keep their home and provide for him, being humiliated and robbed of everything she’d worked so hard to protect.
The jewellery in particular, was precious—it was the last memory of his father. His mother had refused to sell it, no matter how tough times got. Kevin knew he couldn’t just stand by and let these men take it.
He formulated a risky plan. If I can just break free and scream there is a chance that someone will hear us, he thought. The robbers didn’t look like killers and the one pointing knife at his mother was now busy counting the money. If he broke free and screamed, she would’ve enough time to run away.
While one of the men focused on counting the money, Kevin took his chance. He stomped down hard on his captor's foot, eliciting a sharp yelp. As the man loosened his grip, Kevin bolted and began screaming at the top of his lungs.
"HELP! SOMEBODY HELP US!"
The man roared in fury and lunged at Kevin with his knife. As the blade swung towards the boy, his mother leapt between them, taking the blow meant for her son. The knife plunged into her stomach.
Time seemed to freeze. Kevin's screams died in his throat as he watched her fall to the ground, blood pooling around her.
Why isn’t anyone coming? Where’s the help? Where’s a hero when you need one, His thoughts raced but his body refused to move.
The sight of blood overwhelmed him and Kevin fainted. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was his mother reaching for him, her trembling hand brushing against his. Lying nearby, the comic book he had cherished earlier that night was now splattered with blood, its bright colours tarnished by the horror unfolding around it…
When Kevin opened his eyes, the sterile brightness of a hospital ceiling greeted him. His body felt heavy but not as heavy as the crushing weight in his chest. His mother was gone. The realization hit him in fragments as if his mind was too fragile to take the full blow all at once. Every time the truth tried to settle, he fought it, pushing it away with desperate disbelief. "This isn’t real," he whispered with trembling lips every time.
The world around him moved forward without pause. Insurance companies and banks swooped in to handle the formalities, discussing the fate of the house and financial assets. As he had no relative or friend left, no one asked Kevin how he was doing. No one offered comfort for the gaping hole that had just torn through his life.
Kevin was eventually transferred to an orphanage, a place that buzzed with life yet felt oppressively empty to him. He barely talked to anyone there and just stared blankly with his hollow eyes. Days turned into weeks, but the weight of grief and disbelief never left him. His thoughts circled endlessly: It’s not true. It can’t be true.
Unable to bear the oppressive silence of the orphanage, Kevin decided to sneak out. He slipped away unnoticed and made his way back to the house that no longer felt like home. Using a secret entrance that only he knew, he crept inside.
The house was eerily clean. The bloodstains were gone, the floors were scrubbed and everything was put back in order. Although the stillness felt suffocating, like the house itself mourned the life it had once held.
Standing in the living room, Kevin spoke into the emptiness. "Mom, I’m back," he said softly while his voice was shaking.
He paused, then forced a smile. "School today was a real pain, but I managed to survive."
Turning toward the corner of the room, he added with a playful tone, "And Mr. Superhero, you're here too? Thanks for saving us the other day. But don’t think you can start hitting on my mom just because of that!"
The words hung in the air, absurdly normal in a space that should have been silent. There was absolutely no one there, not even a single soul except for Kevin.
Kevin’s mind which was once shattered by trauma had filled the void with hallucinations. To him, they weren’t just figments of his imagination—they were real. His mother stood before him, smiling warmly while the mysterious hero who saved them was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a confident grin.
This became Kevin’s new normal. Night after night, he sneaked out of the orphanage and returned home to talk to his imaginary companions. He told his mother about his day and sought advice from the mysterious hero, who became his guide, mentor and protector.
One evening, during one of these conversations, Kevin asked the question he always dreamed of asking, "How do I become a superhero like you?"
The man tilted his head, a solemn look crossing his face. "Becoming a hero isn’t easy, kid," he said. "It takes sacrifice. You’ll have to leave everything behind."
Kevin’s heart sank. "Leave… everything? Even my mom?"
"Sometimes, to achieve greatness, we have to make hard choices," the Man continued. "Your mom would not want you to leave, don’t you think?"
“Sir, you came to save us when we needed it most. I want to do the same, there might be a lot of people who need someone like you to save them, but you can’t be everywhere so please take me as an apprentice I want to be just like you.” Pleaded Kevin.
“If that is your resolve then I won’t stop you,” said the man.
"I’ll miss you, Mom," he whispered to himself. "But I’ll do it. I’ll make you proud."
In reality, there was no one there. Kevin’s schizophrenia had warped his perception, convincing him that this imaginary farewell was real. That night, he left the orphanage for good, abandoning the remnants of his old life to pursue a path that only existed in his mind.
Kevin believed he was training under the hero. In truth, he was wandering aimlessly and mimicking the training regimens of fictional heroes from comic books. His delusions guided him, shaping every step he took and every decision he made.
As years passed, Kevin fully became RictRex, a self-proclaimed hero in a fractured world. His schizophrenia remained untreated which trapped him in a perpetual cycle of hallucinations and distorted reality. He believed his mother was still alive watching him proudly from the sidelines. And the man he called master gave him company everyday acting as his mentor.
*
The village of Nihar was located on the border between the Maya Kingdom and the Ketu Empire, nestled in the semi-desert region of Kahaar. Nihar village was named after its founder ‘Nihar’ who established this village around one hundred years ago. The village could be easily spotted from a distance due to the wooden barriers and the patches of vegetation which stood out in the arid region.
Its population was modest, consisting of around seven hundred humans. Most of the villagers were farmers, cultivating barley, wheat and cotton. The rest of the villagers dabbled in crafts, producing textiles and pottery to supplement their livelihoods.
Due to its location in a semi desert region, the monster attacks on the village and its surrounding were a rare occurrence. That’s why for years, the village had initially thrived as a stopping point for travellers journeying between the two nations.
Slowly, the village evolved from just a stopping point to a bustling trade route, attracting merchants, caravans and travellers.
But recently due to the construction of a new trade route bypassing the village, the number of visitors started to dwindle which heavily impacted the economy and livelihoods of the villagers.
The decline of travellers wasn’t the only shadow looming over Kahaar. The old route that once passed through the village was a hunting ground for a notorious bandit group called Chausar.
These bandits were raised in the rugged outskirts of the Maya Kingdom and Ketu Empire which made them masters of survival in the harsh and rocky terrain. They looted travellers with ruthless precision and melted back into the jagged landscape before any military forces could catch them.
Both the Maya Kingdom and the Ketu Empire had sent armies to deal with the Chausar bandits many times, but their efforts proved futile. The bandits’ knowledge of the terrain made them impossible to track.
The new trade route had initially struck a blow to the bandits, depriving them of the steady flow of targets. But desperation drove them to shift their focus on Kahaar. At first, their crimes were petty. A theft of a goat here, a cow there. But the incidents escalated, progressing to armed robberies of villagers which spread fear and tension across Nihar.
For most villagers, the rising threat of Chausar meant staying indoors as much as possible especially after dark. But for Malti, life carried on as before. She couldn’t afford to let fear dictate her actions—not when she was her family’s only provider.
Malti’s world revolved around her sick mother, who relied entirely on her care. Her days were spent tending to their cattle and gathering whatever food and resources she could in the grasslands outside the village. Though many warned her against wandering too far from the safety of the village, Malti had no choice. Her family’s survival depended on her.
Malti wasn’t reckless as well. She understood the dangers all too well and took the necessary precautions. She always strapped two pairs of knives to her legs and made time to practice fighting with a local instructor in the village.
Today had been another quiet day out in the grazing fields. The sun hung low in the sky, casting an amber glow across the semi-desert plains. Malti’s cattle moved lazily while chewing on the sparse patches of grass. Malti herself carried a bundle of small wooden sticks tied to her back with a rough rope.
As she scanned the horizon for any signs of trouble, her sharp eyes picked up nothing unusual.
She let out a small breath of relief. “Looks like I’m saved today, too,” she muttered to herself, her tone both thankful and wary.
But she knew it wasn’t safe to stay out now as the safety of daylight was fading fast. Malti called out to her cattle, urging them toward the village. “Come on... tchh tchhhhh... let’s get back before dark.”
*
The village of Nihar was no stranger to travellers, but today’s visitors were unlike any the villagers had ever seen. They wore strange outfits that immediately set them apart.
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One was clad in sleek black armour which didn’t look like the rugged metal armour the villagers were familiar with—it was smooth and almost alien. Another had a similar outfit, but it was a vibrant blue and its material was reflecting light in a way that felt unnatural. However, the third one stood out the most. He was wearing a garment with rows of buttons running down its front, something the villagers had never seen before.
The villagers who were gathering in quiet clusters, whispered among themselves.
“What kind of armour is that?” one murmured.
“I don’t think that’s armour at all—it looks too soft. Maybe they’re sorcerers from another land.”
Another villager squinted at the group. “No, look at the way they’re walking. The two in armour must be escorts and the one in the buttoned outfit… maybe someone important?”
“The man with the buttoned outfit is so handsome, I have never seen a man this good looking.” Said one of the village girls.
The travellers mostly inquired about the kingdom, directions, nearby cities and landmarks. It was a surprise that how did they make it so far without such vital information.
As these travellers walked quickly down the paved road surveying everything around them and exchanged weird glances, the villagers’ curiosity grew even more.
After confirming there was nobody in near surrounding all three of them turned to each other.
“It’s just like what Lord Croxeus said. This world really does have magic”, said Ronny adjusting the blue suit he designed for himself.
They were amazed when they saw few villagers using magic to lift objects, watering plants and drying the clothes.
Ard while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt replied, “Magic or not, there’s a system behind everything. I believe magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Unfortunately, this village doesn’t even have a library or any real sources of information. All we got is this ragged map and vague directions to the city. Not nearly enough.”
Ard’s frustration was evident. His analytical mind craved more—a deeper understanding of this strange world. But their inquiries had already drawn curious stares and lingering too long or asking too many questions might raise suspicions.
RictRex, on the other hand was quieter. The lack of information didn’t bother him as much. He expected such gaps in knowledge in a world that seemed medieval. Instead, his thoughts were elsewhere. He was more concerned about the bandits he heard about from the villagers.
His instincts as a hero were urging him to do something to help. The thought of innocent people suffering made him uneasy.
Yet he hesitated.
Why? He had faced countless dangers in his training and overcome every obstacle in his journey as a hero with determination. So why was he holding back now?
A storm of thoughts raged in his mind. Was it the unfamiliarity of this world and its magic? The possibility of facing foes wielding powers he couldn’t yet comprehend. Or was it something deeper—something born from the events of the previous day?
He couldn’t shake the memory of standing powerless and being unable to save those he cared about. It was a suffocating feeling. All of the training, the hard work he put in and the sacrifices he made, all of them failed when it mattered the most. His mother and his master were gone forever. He began wondering, can he really make a difference? No matter how much he trained or worked hard, he could never reach the level of an omnipotent being.
Am I truly a hero? Or a coward? he thought, his fists clenching involuntarily. These doubts weren’t like him.
As the group prepared to leave the village and head toward the castle, an old woman appeared in their path. She looked frail with her back bent with age and illness. Her steps were shaky and her voice trembled as she pleaded. She clutched at the hems of villagers’ clothes and held onto their feet, begging for their help.
“Please, someone help me find my daughter! She didn’t come home last night! Please, I beg you!”
The villagers avoided her gaze, their expressions were a mixture of pity and helplessness. A few paused as though they wanted to help, but none dared to speak. Everyone knew what the old woman’s daughter’s disappearance likely meant.
Chausar.
The name carried dread through the village. This bandit group wasn’t just infamous for robbing travellers—they also abducted women and children, selling them into slavery.
Though slavery was illegal in both the Maya Kingdom and the Ketu Empire, few kingdoms allowed it. Even in the Maya Kingdom slave trade thrived in the shadows. With the recent increase in the Chausar’s activity, it was most likely that she was abducted by them.
RictRex who was standing among the crowd, felt the weight of the scene pressing down on him. He had been quiet since they arrived. The memory of his own helplessness was haunting him like a shadow. But as he watched the old woman crumble to the ground, her hands shaking as she reached out for aid, something inside him snapped. He saw his mother in her.
His chest tightened and his heart ached as if it were breaking. He could no longer suppress the instincts that had defined him—the instincts of a hero.
Without a word to his companions, he stepped forward and knelt beside the woman. Gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Tell me what happened,” he said in firm but kind voice.
The old woman looked up as her tear-streaked face filled with desperation and a flicker of hope. Her words came out in gasps, broken by sobs.
“My daughter… she tends to our cattle every day. Yesterday, she left in the morning as usual but—but she didn’t come home by nightfall. I waited all night, praying she would walk through that door, but she never did. she’s all I have left in this world. Please help me! I beg of you.”
RictRex’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need to ask who might be responsible—he already knew.
The murmurs of the villagers reached his ears. “She’s gone, poor thing…”
“Chausar must’ve taken her. It’s too dangerous to intervene.”
“Even the soldiers couldn’t do anything about them…”
Their words made RictRex’s blood boil. These people weren’t heartless—they were victims of a system that had failed them. It was a world where justice was a distant dream. But he couldn’t accept that. He wouldn’t. This world needed a hero more than anything.
He looked into the old woman’s eyes, his resolve hardening. “Don’t worry. I’ll find her and bring her back.”
The woman stared at him in disbelief, her lips quivering. “You will? Truly?”
“I promise,” RictRex said, standing tall.
Ard stepped forward with frustration etched on his face as he grabbed RictRex’s shoulder, pulling him back. “What are you saying, Rex? We don’t have time for this! We have to head back. This is no place and definitely no time, to play hero. Kevin, we’re in another world!”
RictRex didn’t budge, his eyes fixed on the old woman. “People are still people, no matter what world we’re in. This woman needs help. These villagers need help. And I can’t leave them like this.”
Ard sighed, “Don’t you understand? This is pointless. We have more important things to do—more important than throwing yourself at some hopeless cause in a world we don’t even understand.”
RictRex turned to Ard, “Then tell me something, Ard. Back in our world, when everything was falling apart—when the world was ending—why did you save those kids from trafficking? Even though you knew it was useless, you still saved them. Why?”
“Because I—felt helpless. In that moment, I thought that saving them was the only thing I could do. But that was different. The situation has changed now”, said Ard after pausing for a moment.
RictRex shook his head. “It’s only changed for you. For me, it hasn’t. I still feel helpless, Ard. And helping these people is the only thing I can do.”
“I won’t be a part of your helplessness, Kevin. And I’ll wish for the day you stop feeling that way”, said Ard in an annoyed tone.
RictRex stared back at him, unyielding. “It isn’t that I don’t want to help you. I really want to prevent something like that from happening again and repay lord Croxeus. But I can’t leave these people, the woman and her daughter like this. I will help these villagers and get some more details to help you and then head back.”
Ard sighed deeply, “Fine. But don’t expect me to stick around for this.” He gestured for Ronny to follow. “We’ll head back to the castle after we can dig up anything useful on our own.”
Ronny hesitated, glancing between the two of them but ultimately followed Ard without a word.
As they disappeared into the distance, RictRex turned back to the old woman. Her face was a mixture of gratitude and desperation. Her frail hands were clasped tightly together.
“I’ll need to know everything,” RictRex said gently. “Where does your daughter usually take the cattle to graze? Are there specific areas she favours?”
The old woman nodded quickly, pointing toward the outskirts of the village. “There’s a small clearing by the rocky hills. She always takes them there. It’s… it’s not far…”
RictRex nodded, thanking her before turning to the other villagers. He asked them about the bandits, their habits and their recent appearances. Though most were reluctant to speak out of fear, a few offered bits of information—a sighting near the southern cliffs, an encounter by the dried riverbed. Few pitied the man while others thought he was simply foolish.
Pulling out the ragged map he’d received earlier, he sat down in the village square and began to mark the locations. He plotted the old woman’s description, the known bandit sightings and other reports of disappearances. Slowly, a pattern emerged.
Three potential hideouts stood out on the map: the southern cliffs, a cave system near the hills and a dense thicket on the south of the hills.
He drew a deep breath, “That’s where I’ll find them,” he muttered to himself. Standing up, he secured his gear and made his way toward the first location.
RictRex stood at the entrance of the second possible hideout. The terrain here was more promising—a cluster of rocky outcrops offering concealment and vantage points, it looked like a location well-suited for an operation near the village. As he surveyed the area, he paid close attention to the wind patterns and terrain shifts.
His survey was interrupted by a sudden disturbance. Out of seemingly nowhere, three bandits appeared riding horses. The riders were cloaked in shimmering distortions and their forms were solidifying as they approached. The leader’s sword glowed faintly with an otherworldly light—magic.
Looks like they’re using magic for concealment and movement. I need to know more about their magic and its limitation before I act recklessly.
The bandits spotted him and charged without hesitation while their leader was shouting something indecipherable. RictRex clenched his fists as adrenaline surged through his veins.
As the first bandit swung his enchanted sword, RictRex sidestepped the attack with precision, narrowly avoiding the blade’s arc.
When the bandit returned, RictRex delivered a powerful strike to his wrist, disarming him and sending the sword clattering to the ground. Before the bandit could recover, RictRex knocked him unconscious using his electric taser.
The second bandit lunged from behind, aiming a dagger at RictRex. He ducked under the strike and retaliated with his electric taser, pressing it against the bandit’s torso. A surge of electricity sent the assailant convulsing before collapsing unconscious.
The last bandit who was their leader hesitated, perhaps realizing RictRex was no ordinary opponent. He tried to flee, urging his horse into a gallop, but RictRex anticipated the move. He leapt onto the horse and used the momentum to grapple the bandit off the saddle. This sent both of them crashing to the ground. Before the bandit could react, RictRex immobilized him with another precise taser strike.
Breathing heavily, RictRex surveyed the aftermath. All three bandits lay unconscious near the horses. Just as he was about to tie them up for interrogation one of the horses neighed loudly and began running away.
“Perfect,” RictRex muttered as he sprinted after the horse. “Let’s see where you’re headed.”
The horse charged through narrow pathways and rugged terrain, eventually leading RictRex to a concealed base. From a distance, RictRex spotted a cluster of makeshift tents and wooden structures nestled against the mouth of a cave. He spotted few bandits, some of them were armed and alert after seeing one of their horses running rampant without a rider.
He crouched behind a boulder, assessing the situation. The camp was on high alert most likely due to the suspicion that someone might have followed the horse. A group of bandits stood guard at the perimeter while others retreated into the cave.
“First priority is the girl,” RictRex murmured as he slipped into the shadows. His black costume blended seamlessly with the dim surroundings as he moved carefully to avoid detection. When he left the village it was already evening and now the sky had turned almost dark, working in his favour.
He made his way around the camp while staying out of sight. After some time, he found what he was looking for. Inside the cave, a single guard stood in front of a cage. Behind the iron bars a girl was lying unconscious.
RictRex’s eyes narrowed. One guard… I can manage that.
He moved closer with his silent footsteps against the stone floor. As he reached the guard’s blind spot, he drew his taser. With swift precision, he pressed it to the back of the guard’s neck. The man barely had time to grunt before he crumpled to the ground.
RictRex crouched by the cage, examining the lock. It was rudimentary but sturdy. He retrieved a lock-picking tool from his utility pouch and began working. “Hang tight,” he whispered to the girl. “You’re getting out of here.”
As the lock clicked open, RictRex lifted the cage door. His heart raced—this was just the beginning. Now, he had to get her out safely without alerting the entire camp.
As they exited the cave, the girl began to stir. RictRex gently placed a finger to his lips. “Shh... don’t make a sound. We need to get out of here quietly.” The girl nodded weakly, her eyes still glazed with confusion and fear.
Navigating through the rocky terrain, RictRex kept his movements deliberate and silent while constantly scanning for danger. But just as they reached a clearing, a sudden clang echoed behind them. Someone had discovered the unlocked cage. Moments later, the shrill sound of a bell shattered the quiet night.
“Damn it,” RictRex muttered, glancing back. The camp came alive as bandits scrambled to action. Spells began illuminating the area, casting an eerie glow on the rugged landscape.
“Stay close to me,” RictRex whispered to the girl as he ushered her toward the shadows.
Despite his efforts to stay hidden, a sharp-eyed bandit spotted them and shouted. Within seconds, he was surrounded by bandits wielding weapons and using magic. RictRex was able to push the girl from the terrain behind him protectively. As the bandits were approaching, he signalled her to run away.
The bandits unleashed their spells—some turned the sand below his feet into thick mud to entrap him. While others wielded swords enhanced with magical energy.
RictRex dodged and countered as best as he could, using his taser to neutralize the attackers. He moved with agility and landed precise blows that incapacitated his opponents without killing them. He had years of experience, but this fight was different. They weren’t shooting bullets at him or throwing bombs at him. They were constantly using different unexpected spells which sometimes landed a blow on him.
Some of the bandits were invisible while attacking him. Even though he was able to sense them due to the sound and patterns they made on the sand, some of them were able to land a blow or two unnoticed sometimes.
RictRex’s nose was broken during one of the blows, blood dripping onto his black costume. His movements grew sluggish as exhaustion set in. The bandits’ tactics were unlike anything he had faced before—magic gave them an unpredictable edge. Not only that they also had the numerical advantage.
Even as his injuries piled up, He was more concerned about the girl. He glanced back and saw her disappearing in the forest, using the chaos he created as a distraction to escape.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Good. She’s safe, he thought while dodging another enchanted blade.
One by one, he took down more bandits, but their numbers seemed endless. He fought with every tool in his arsenal until his tasers were out of battery and he was out of other equipments.
He was surrounded, outnumbered and bleeding but he still held his ground
He managed to neutralize around 35 bandits, but five were still circling him like predators around wounded prey. His breathing was laboured and his vision started to get blurry. Every swing of his hands was slower than the last. One bandit lunged, slashing across RictRex’s side.
For a brief moment, a sense of peace washed over him.
So, this is how it ends he thought. I survived the end of my world, only to die here… in a place where no one knows me. But... I’m okay with that. I didn’t abandon her. I did what a hero should do.
I saved one life…
Memories flashed before his eyes—his parents, his mentor and Croxeus. I’m sorry I couldn’t repay you, Lord Croxeus... Mom, Dad, Master... I hope I made you proud.
A bandit charged at him with his weapon, but RictRex was too weak to react. The blow struck him hard and the world faded to black. He fell unconscious, his body crumpling to the ground.
…….
RictRex’s consciousness slowly returned, as he opened his eyes a dim light of a room came into focus. The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was a thatched roof. The room was made from wood and was supported by few sticks of bamboos.
He blinked a few times, his body still heavy with exhaustion. He realized he was lying on a simple bed and there were bandages covering his wounds. Someone had patched him up and the more severe injuries had been treated with surprising care.
The faint creak of the front door caught his attention. A familiar figure entered—it was the girl he had risked everything to save. Her face lit up with joy when she saw him awake.
“You’re awake!” she exclaimed, running toward him. Her feet pattered against the wooden floor as she dashed to another room. Moments later, she returned with her mother.
The two knelt beside him with expressions of gratitude and relief. The older woman clasped her hands together, “Thank you. Thank you for saving my daughter. I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you.”
RictRex managed a faint smile, “I’m just glad she’s safe.” He looked at the girl. “But tell me... what happened after I blacked out? How did I end up here?”
The girl’s expression turned serious as she recounted the events. “When I was running back toward the village to find help, I ran into a group of villagers. They were already on their way to subjugate the bandits along with... two strangers. One was wearing armour like yours… and the other looked... unusual. They rushed to where you were and surrounded the remaining bandits. Together, they defeated them and carried you back here.
The villagers also handed the bandits over to the Maya Kingdom’s authorities. Apparently, there was a huge bounty on those bandits and the villagers said they’ll share most of it with you.”
Her tone brightened as she added, “You’ve been unconscious for two days. The entire village is talking about what you did.”
RictRex sank back against the pillow, letting her words sink in. He felt a mixture of relief and amusement. Ard, he thought, I always knew you weren’t as heartless as you pretend to be.
His body still needed rest, and he had done his part. Knowing that both the girl and the villagers were safe made every wound worth it. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift back into a well-earned rest.
*
Beneath the blazing sun of the semi-desert region, a convoy of armed soldiers escorted a group of caravans along a dusty road. Under the flag of their nation, the soldiers gripped their swords tightly as their horses trotted in rhythm. They seemed to be in some kind of urgency.
When the soldiers of the Maya Kingdom confirmed that the captured individuals were indeed members of the infamous bandit group 'Chausar,' they either poisoned them or beheaded them before delivering their remains to the authorities. This method was far more efficient, as it eliminated any risk of the bandits escaping or staging a rebellion during the transport.
Since they were only transporting corpses, they had let their guard down. It was now just a simple transportation job and no bandit group would try to attack the soldiers of army or so they thought..
Suddenly, one horse stumbled violently as its legs were tangled in an invisible thread strung low across the path. The fall was followed by chaos—more horses started tripping and before the soldiers could regroup, a flurry of masked attackers descended upon them.
The soldiers didn’t stand a chance against the ambushers who not only outnumbered them but attacked with accuracy and precision. Blades clashed, and moments later all the soldiers lay unconscious while their weapons were scattered across the dirt.
Amid the masked attackers, Ard stepped forward with his calm demeaner contrasting the chaos. Beside him was Ronny who was more guarded but equally focused. When the dust settled, Ard turned to the leader of the attacking group who was sifting through the spoils.
“Take whatever you want from these soldiers,” Ard said. He then reached into his cloak and retrieved a small but intricately embroidered bag of gold coins. Handing it over to the group’s leader, he added, “Our deal ends here.”
The leader accepted the payment, narrowing his eyes. “What are you going to do with the bodies of those bandits?” he asked curiously.
Ard’s piercing gaze met his. “That’s none of your concern,” he replied coldly.
Leaving the raiders to their loot, Ard strode purposefully to one of the caravans. He pulled open its reinforced doors and revealed the corpses of bandits inside. They all lay motionless. Some with their heads chopped off while others had a stark white pallor. All of their faces were covered with black clothes, probably to hide the expressions of fear and horror.
A satisfied smirk crossed Ard’s face as he surveyed the scene. “So, the intel was right. They already poisoned these scums before presenting them in the court. Perfect, everything went well according to the plan.”
He gestured mockingly toward the immobilized bandits and muttered with icy amusement, “Welcome to hell, gentlemen. I hope you’ll make excellent test subjects.”
Ronny who was now standing behind him, shifted uneasily. “Roleplaying as villains now, are we?” he said.
Ard turned to him, “Sympathy for these corpses?” he asked mockingly.
“Not for them,” Ronny clarified. “For Rex, you didn’t have to do him like that.”
He replied, his smirk now deepening into a sinister grin, “Sympathy for Rex? He got exactly what he wanted. He saved the girl, saved the village and got to play the hero. That little taste of success will keep him motivated for what’s ahead. The village sees him as their saviour. And we now have an informant there to keep an eye on things.”
He glanced at the bandits again and commented with more calculating tone. “We’ve secured enough information and our test subjects for the experiments. It’s a win on every front.”
“What’s next then?” asked Ronny.
“Rict’s fight proved that no matter how much technology or skill you have, without learning more about magic we are helpless here. So, we will now use these pigs and the books we got from merchants to figure out magic.”
“Stepping into the profession of sorcery, Mr Physicist?” asked Ronny mockingly.
As Ard was about to reply to his question Ronny spoke in middle, “Magic is nothing but science, I know—I know.”