The road north twisted through the heart of the Eldorian Forest, a dark and brooding expanse where trees loomed high above, their canopies entwining like ancient fingers. The thick foliage blocked out much of the sunlight, casting the path ahead in perpetual twilight. The air was damp and heavy, filled with the earthy scent of moss and decay, while the distant calls of unseen creatures echoed through the forest.

Baron Alistair Ravenshade rode at the front of his small company, his gaze fixed ahead, scanning the road for signs of movement. Behind him marched the six pikemen he had summoned the night before, their disciplined steps echoing in unison. The men were silent, their expressions grim but determined, each one holding their pikes at the ready.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, Alistair's mind was alive with thoughts of the Arcane Dominion. He could feel the system humming softly in the back of his consciousness, a steady presence that reassured him in moments of doubt. The ability to summon troops had already proven invaluable, but he knew there was much more he had yet to uncover. The possibilities were vast, and the power at his disposal was unlike anything he had ever imagined.

The forest around them grew denser, and the once-clear road became overgrown with roots and vines. Alistair slowed his horse, his senses heightened as the forest's eerie stillness pressed in on them. He could feel the weight of the trees, as if the very woods were watching, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, one of the pikemen called out, "My lord, movement ahead!"

Alistair's eyes snapped to the road ahead, and sure enough, shadows flitted between the trees just beyond the bend. He held up a hand, signaling the group to halt.

"Stay sharp," Alistair said quietly. He dismounted and drew his sword, feeling the familiar weight of the blade in his hand. It was his father's sword, a well-balanced weapon etched with the sigils of the Ravenshade family. His heart pounded in his chest as he stepped forward, the pikemen fanning out behind him.

The shadows shifted again, and this time, a group of ragged men emerged from the underbrush, their eyes gleaming with malice. They were dressed in tattered armor, their weapons crude but deadly. Bandits.

There were at least a dozen of them, far more than Alistair had expected. Their leader, a tall man with a scarred face and a wicked grin, stepped forward, twirling a rusted axe in his hand.

"Well, well," the bandit leader sneered, his voice dripping with arrogance. "What do we have here? A young lord and his toys, playing soldier in the woods?"

Alistair squared his shoulders, meeting the bandit's gaze with unwavering resolve. "You will leave these lands at once," he said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Surrender now, and I will show mercy. Resist, and you will face the consequences."

The bandit leader barked a harsh laugh. "Mercy? From a boy like you?" He spat on the ground. "We've been raiding these roads for months, and no one's stopped us yet. What makes you think today will be any different?"

Alistair tightened his grip on his sword, his mind racing. The odds were against him, but he wasn't alone. The Arcane Dominion pulsed in his mind, waiting for his command. He glanced at his pikemen, their faces set in grim determination. He could feel the connection between them—his soldiers, born of magic and bound to his will.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

He summoned the interface once more, and the familiar lines of information appeared before his eyes. He could see the stats of his pikemen as well as the bandits, their weaknesses laid bare to him through the system.

Bandit Leader

Strength: 7

Endurance: 6

Agility: 5

Morale: Medium

Weakness: Left knee injury

Alistair's gaze flickered to the leader's stance, and sure enough, there was a slight hesitation in the way he favored his left leg. He would exploit that.

"Form up!" Alistair commanded, and the pikemen immediately moved into position, their pikes angled forward in a defensive line.

The bandit leader's grin faltered as he noticed the discipline of the summoned soldiers. "Charge!" he bellowed, but there was uncertainty in his voice now.

The bandits surged forward, weapons raised, but Alistair and his pikemen held their ground. With a swift motion, Alistair gave the order.

"Advance!"

The pikemen stepped forward in unison, their pikes thrusting forward with precision. The first bandits were impaled before they even reached the line, their cries of pain cut short as the pikemen pushed them back. Alistair moved alongside his troops, his sword flashing as he parried a wild strike from one of the bandits before countering with a swift slash across the man's chest.

The battle was quick and brutal. The bandits were disorganized, their attacks reckless and undisciplined, while the pikemen fought with unwavering precision. Alistair moved like a seasoned warrior, his sword cutting down two more bandits before he found himself face-to-face with the leader.

The bandit leader snarled and swung his axe in a wide arc, but Alistair was ready. He ducked beneath the strike, rolling to the side before coming up with a quick thrust aimed at the leader's injured knee.

The bandit howled in pain as Alistair's blade struck true, his leg buckling beneath him. The man fell to one knee, his axe dropping from his grasp.

Alistair leveled his sword at the man's throat. "Yield," he commanded.

The bandit leader glared up at him, hatred burning in his eyes, but the fight had gone out of him. With a growl, he spat on the ground again, but this time there was no defiance in his voice. "I yield."

Alistair's heart raced as he stepped back, his sword still at the ready. The remaining bandits, seeing their leader defeated, dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender.

The battle was over.

As the pikemen rounded up the captured bandits, Alistair sheathed his sword and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He could feel the Arcane Dominion hum approvingly in his mind, the system feeding him a sense of accomplishment.

A notification appeared before his eyes:

Experience Gained

- Swordsmanship: 20 XP

- Leadership: 15 XP

- New Skill Acquired: Tactical Insight (Level 1)

Alistair blinked at the new skill. Tactical Insight? It seemed that the system had recognized his ability to read the battlefield and exploit weaknesses. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was more to this power than he had initially realized, and with each battle, he would grow stronger.

As the pikemen returned to formation, Alistair turned to Sir Branford, who had been observing from the rear of the party. The older knight gave him a nod of approval.

"Well done, my lord," Branford said, his voice filled with respect. "Your father would be proud."

Alistair felt a swell of pride at the knight's words, but he knew that this was only the beginning. The bandits were but a small threat compared to what lay ahead. There were greater dangers lurking in the shadows—dangers that would test not just his strength, but his resolve as a leader.

As they began the journey back to Ravenshade, Alistair couldn't help but wonder what other secrets the Arcane Dominion held, and how far it would take him on his path to greatness.

The road ahead was long, but Alistair Ravenshade was ready.

The journey to claim his legacy had only just begun.