Kairos ventured in or out of the wood-not that he would have known, but he definitely needed to keep going-as the sun rained down with absolute fierceness on him. The heavy smell of pine needles mingled with that of damp earth while noises came in from no end, blending with little noises from the different others. He would attribute this ease of movement to something magical or strange; it could be that, given the new suit of armor and how light it had become, the sickle did not seem as foreign with every passing step.

Not far away though, a scream pierced the tranquility. Panicking voices shouted in fear with dull thuds echoing through the forest. Curiosity somehow revived a flicker of purpose, and off he went. The pace was light, heart full of frayed nerves and anticipation-so now, it was a thing he followed.

He panned into a small clearing, breath hitching in his throat. The hulking men were daring the villagers; their fanged faces bore rabid, savage glee. Women huddled close to their children, while men fought back with desperate, albeit futile, courage. The criminals were all armoured with crude clubs and rusty swords. They had been the least remote bluffers of real valor. Their laughter played as an accompaniment. Pain and grief drowned in it.

One of the pistols stood larger. He was particularly vile. He swung a great scimitar that cleaved the rare air with deadly force. In a low, stony voice, down came the blade upon someone and sliced him in two. The villagers recoiled in horror; resistance cracked up.

Kairos watched the scene unfold, a cold smile spreading across his lips under the helmet. This was an opportunity. An opportunity to demonstrate his power, to instill fear in the hearts of mortals, to prove he is the hand of god, and perhaps garner some followers if the chance arises.

“Shadow's embrace, I claim this guise, blind from sight, before their eyes.” Kairos, with a newfound sense of cunning, activated his invisibility spell. The world around him shimmered, colors blurring and fading as he became almost entirely invisible. He felt a strange lightness, as if he were no longer tethered to the physical world. “Minor Invisibility.”

He glided through the clearing with a quiet elegance, like a shadow among the living. The bandits, unaware of his existence, carried on with their vicious attack, their laughter ringing out in the open space. Kairos, a hunter tracking its quarry just like a hound, watched their actions closely, studying their movements and pinpointing their vulnerabilities.

He waited for the opportune moment, his patience unwavering. Noticing a bandit standing a good distance from the rest, emboldened by his success. This was it.

He reappeared directly behind the brute, his sickle flashing in the brief moment of visibility to them. The bandit, caught completely off guard, let out a strangled cry as the sickle sank deep into his back. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless. “Seems like once I made my attack the spell effect wear off”, standing on top of the corpse, his presence is now announced.

Skills Acquired:

* [Two Weapon Fighting (Beginner)]

The other bandits, thrown into chaos by this unseen attacker, spun around frantically, their weapons aimed at Kairos. As he picked up the fallen bandit’s scimitar, he surveyed the rest of the gang, gauging their reaction. "I am here to offer you a choice. Serve me and my true god, or face oblivion." He gestured toward the fallen bandit. "This was a warning. Your continued defiance will only lead to more suffering." He paused, letting his words resonate. “Your insignificant lives can serve a greater purpose. Instead of thieving and raiding for scraps, you should be fighting to spread the word of glory, the word of our god!”

The bandits, shaken and cautious, stared at him, their weapons held defensively.

A massive figure stepped out of the shadows, towering over the others. This was no ordinary bandit; he was a warrior, his muscles straining against his crude leather armor, his eyes shining with a fierce intensity beneath his gladiator helmet. He wielded a colossal warhammer, its head glinting ominously in the sunlight. "Impressive," the warrior growled, his voice deep and powerful. "But killing one of my men doesn’t make you a god." He advanced, his shadow stretching over Kairos. "If you want us to serve, you’ll need to prove your worth."

The warrior raised his warhammer, a challenge etched on his face. "Face me, godling. Show us the true extent of your power."

“I’m but a mere servant of our god, but your challenge is accepted” Kairos, intrigued by this unexpected challenge, felt a surge of excitement. This was an opportunity to not only assert his dominance but also to further hone his combat skills. "Let us begin."

The two warriors circled each other, a silent tension filling the clearing. The bandits watched with bated breath, their fate hanging in the balance.

The warrior charged, his warhammer a whirlwind of deadly force. Kairos, agile and swift, dodged the blow, his sickle a blur of motion. The fight was a brutal dance of death, a clash of wills and strength. Kairos, relying on his speed and agility, weaved around the warrior's attacks, seeking an opening. Each hammer's strikes crack the ground, disturb the air greetings, light breezes.

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"Blood of the faithful, fuel my blade, Divine wrath, a holy shade." coating his new scimitar in a layer of boiling blood as he slit his palm. “Crimson Blade!” With a swift, fluid motion, he slides beneath the bandit warlord landing behind the hulking warrior, using his size against him. He lashed out with his sickle, aiming for the warrior's exposed neck.

The warrior, expecting an attack from the front, was caught completely off guard. He roared in pain as the sickle grazed his neck, drawing blood. He stumbled back, gripping his warhammer.

“The blade didn’t go through, you’re tough.” Kairos pressed his advantage. He unleashed a flurry of attacks, his sickle a whirlwind of deadly blows. But the warrior was no mere brute. He recovered quickly, his eyes filled with a newfound rage. He swung his warhammer in a wide arc while grunting, forcing Kairos to leap back to avoid the crushing blow. The warhammer smashed into the ground, sending a tremor through the earth.

The fight intensified. Kairos, relying on his speed and agility, weaved around the warrior's attacks, seeking an opening. He unleashed a flurry of attacks, his sickle a whirlwind of deadly blows. But the warrior, despite his size, was surprisingly agile. He blocked, parried, and countered with a ferocity that matched Kairos' own.

The battle raged on, a brutal dance of death. Kairos, feeling the first pangs of exhaustion, knew he had to end this quickly. He closed his eyes, concentrating his will.

“Lifeblood mend, the drain shall cease, But now this gift comes with a price." Casting a buff spell with his remaining MP, with renewed vigor and stamina in a short period, Kairos launched himself at the warrior. He struck with a force he had never known before, the sickle biting deep into the warrior's flesh. The warrior let out a roar of pain, his grip on the warhammer weakening.

Kairos, sensing his opponent's weakness, delivered a final, devastating blow yet non-lethal. The sickle sank deep into the warrior's chest, but not deep enough to pierce his heart. The warrior let out a final, gurgling cry and collapsed to the ground, his blood staining the earth.

Kairos turned to the bandits, his gaze sweeping across their faces, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and surprised. He raised his hand, the sickle gleaming ominously in the sunlight. "From this day forward," he declared, his voice echoing through the clearing, "you will serve the true god. You will pray to him, you will offer him sacrifices, and you will spread his word to all corners of this land. No longer will you be some mundane raiders, you are now paladins of the new order, no, a revival to the old order of this world!" Was it that his own skills or the blessings and spells he was graced from his god? No matter, this is his own victory, an enemy defeated by his own hand, his ambition grow.

[Character]

Name: Kairos

Level: 2

HP: 120/120

MP: 40/40

Strength: 6

Agility: 8

Intelligence: 4

Wisdom: 3

Charisma: 2

New Skills Unlocked:

[Twin-Blade Dash - Two Weapon Fighting]

[Shadow Step]

[Parry]

[Divine Spellcasting Improved]

New Spells Unlocked:

[Shield of Fate]

[Minor Raise Dead]

[Crimson Flare]

[Minor Wound Recover]

[Crimson Barrier]

The air crackled with unseen energy as Kairos felt a surge of power course through him. His level had risen! A surge of information, like a torrent of data, appeared once against.

Kairos looks at the downed bandit warlord blow and begins testing out his new spell. "By the god's decree, the wound shall mend, A fleeting gift, before the end. Your life renewed, a sacrifice made, To serve the dark path, a soul betrayed." he cast the spell on his defeated foe, “Minor Wound Recover.”

“You are a great asset, I think you will be useful for what is to come.” He turns over to the rest of the bandits, or should we call them his paladins of faith. “For the village, you can finish what you started, plunders and take whatever you can.” A chilling chuckle escaped his lips, echoing inside his helmet, while the screaming and death in his background resumed. This was just the beginning. With each level, he grew stronger, his power expanding, his influence increasing. He would become a force to be reckoned with, a true instrument of his god's will. But where would he go now with a band of a dozen followers? Would he be able to gather enough strength to face multiple heroes that defeated the Demon Lord?

To be continued….