Turning on auto-combat, it was as if Lawrence’s body moved on his own, the way he moved with his blade and tower shield was as if he was dancing in a ballroom, elegant and beautiful, but through the screams of the bandits, it was equally deadly.

Lawrence’s move served not to kill them on the spot, but to wound them so severely that they are left on the ground wincing. In an instant, ten of them lay there, bleeding into the ground.

In Lawrence’s heart, it was pounding madly. In a short period of time, his skills in Ever Dawn has barely given any of the ten people a chance to even lift their weapon to defend themselves.

However, thinking of how Craig and Laura, their hospitality—

“What are you waiting for? Get him!” The “salesman” shouted, his face contorted with fury as his underlings rushed at him, brandishing their weapon.

“Stalwart Defense!” Lawrence yelled and his longsword seemed to glow a pale blue and as he cleaved the person in front of him, a forceful pulse of wind propelled itself from the sword and it blew a hole clean through the eight more people behind his victim and many of the bandits yelled in anger, once again charging at the Guardian.

“What are we doing, sitting on our arses! Charge!” Roland shouted and the militiamen, heartened by the damage that Lawrence was doing, made ready to charge forward.

“No, stay back!” Lawrence yelled, his tone commanding and unyielding, like that of a commander on the battlefield. With that, the militiamen faltered. Lawrence did not want anyone to come near as he was afraid that he could not control his own abilities as right now, he had turned off auto-combat and was trying out the skills.

“Anyone semi-decent with a bow, fire!” Craig yelled and a few bowmen fired, their arrows plunging into the mess of men surrounding Lawrence, prompting some cries of surprise and pain.

“Phoenix’s Damnation!” Lawrence said, jumping up and he quickly turned, picking the place where a lot of bandits have gathered. As a fireball in the shape of a phoenix surrounded his tower shield, a mysterious force propelled him towards them, slamming into their centre, fire erupting from Lawrence and enveloping 15 bandits, causing them to scream in pain as the fire consumed them, sending them to a fiery death.

The bandits have now backed away, as Lawrence, covered in blood and the entrails of his enemies, glared at them.

“J-Just who are you to offend the Axe Hill Bandits!? Do you know who we are!? I am Jacque Francis, the leader of the Axe Hill Bandits! Announce your name before you fall!” the angry “salesperson” by the name of David Francis raised his shortsword and bellowed at Lawrence, who despite moving around so much, barely felt like panting.

Taking a look at the interface, Lawrence could see that the bandits have failed to hit him at all and he has easily taken down a third of them. However, Lawrence could feel the taste of the blood of his enemies and spat it out in disgust.

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“Pppffft!”

This was more blood and intestines than Lawrence had ever seen in a single episode of Crime Scene Investigation. However, it was as if his body was used to this and he couldn’t feel a bit more than a faint nauseating feeling.

“My name is Lawrence Carstein! I want no more bloodshed! All of you will leave this village, now!” Lawrence shouted, attempting to put up his bravest front, for the sake of the people who “saved” his life, for that little girl trying to be with her grandfather—

However, what Lawrence does not realize is that due to how effective he was, there could no longer be a peaceful resolution to this conflict. Jacque was thinking to himself about several facts.

Having shown off his martial prowess and slaughtered about a third of the bandits, he has placed Jacque Francis, the leader of the Axe Hill Bandits in an impasse. Jacque was the one who had suggested that Black Bay Village will be an easy mark and by all signs and accords, it should be. Lord Black has deployed his soldiers to help Count Boulevard in his struggle with Count Tasin.

The soldiers that patrolled the lands were now largely gone and few in numbers. With that, a state of unlawfulness ruled Lord Black’s territories. It was a vicious cycle. Everytime Lord Black’s men returned, they would violently chase the bandits into the hills and these bandits would reappear every time something happened that cause Lord Black to deploy his troops elsewhere.

The situation was not helped with the poor harvest, meaning that Lord Black had to send even his house guards to potentially restive villages in the event a riot broke out over the deteriorating food condition.

In short, Lord Black had too few men concentrating on too many things at a time, through no fault of his.

Therefore, Jacque correctly deduced that the Village of Black Bay that primarily focused on fishing and hunting will be dealing with the poor harvest much better than other villagers and a stockpile of food will sit in the storehouse, ripe for the taking, with the village being poorly guarded.

However, what no one could have expected was a man in dark blue armour that one could easily mistake as black, a tower shield and a glowing blue blade would be visiting the village and easily wipe out a third of his men in a few minutes and still look as if he had plenty of fight left in him.

If Jacque cowered and pulled all his men back, he knew that he may very well have his throat slit during the night by someone overly eager to take his spot. Now, he had to at the very least slaughter the skilled heavy infanteer in front of him or he will never be able to stand in the Axe Hill Bandits ever again.

As Lawrence watched, Jacque raised his sword and…

Plunged it into the neck of the man in front of him who was backing away from Lawrence slowly.

“No one stays back, everyone forward! It's just him, a group of old men stopping you from all that ass and ale hiding in the warehouse!” Jacque squawked, the surviving men slowly surrounding Lawrence from all sides while a small detachment turned to face the ragtag group of militias of the village.

“Ah, crap,” Craig muttered, as a detachment of some 12 men charged at them, men with obviously far more combat experience, but the arrows of this ragtag crew found true for two of their marks, pinning these two poor bandits in the legs and chest, letting them breathe no more.

Yet, the 10 continued their reckless charge, their faces gleeful, bathing in the sin of bloodlust, but as they got nearer, a loud crack in the sky, as if it was thunder itself, even in the fairly bright afternoon with clear skies, roared through the air.

A spark drifted down, as all who heard it turned, a reddish, glowing spark, as if it was a fragment of a tiny firework, fallen from the sky, or maybe it had broken from the lightning that no doubt preceded the thunder—