As my invisibility was starting to wear off, I decided to test my new stockpiled power. Skills and experience ran through me, goading me on. Dismal-looking with blood streaked on as I came out of the tent and unsheathed my sword. The bandits turned round, their faces now twisted in anger. "It's him!" one of them yelled out, pointing accusingly at the blood-dripped intruder who stood boldly in the open.

They rushed me with their swords and spears. But something had changed. They moved... slow. Was this the result of my power? With a grip firmly holding my sword, I rushed forward. The first man fell even before he could draw an arm. My blade sliced his head off in one smooth movement. The second followed, his neck spouting crimson as his head thumped on the ground.

One after another, the bandits fell, their too-slow attack, their totally non-existent defenses. It felt like a dance of precision to me; every strike was perfectly timed. For them, it must have ended in the blink of an eye. When it was over, the ground was covered in corpses, and people's heads were rolling in the blood-soaked earth. I stood amidst that havoc, my sword dripping red.

Suddenly, the night's dismal silence was rent by a deafening explosion from the main barracks, sending a cloud of dust and debris into the air. Through the haze, I saw Silvia stumble backward, with blood oozing from countless slashes across her body. She clutched her side, coughing violently until a spray of blood escaped her lips.

She had fought valiantly, but it was evident that she wasn't going to make a difference to the one coming from the crash. He was massive among the settling dust; the gigantic figure's muscle building told of his experience from years of battle, coupled with scars. That was definitely Malker, the Bandit Captain. The stain of Silvia's blood was evident on the sword he had as he flashed.

"How dare you come to my turf and try to assassinate me!" he thundered in rage. "You deserve death a thousand times over!" With the anger in his voice, something ominous was chiseled in his posture; a pause, a confused stumble. I just stood among severed heads around me, my sword still dripping over the blood of his men. "Are you Malker?" I asked in a steady, calm voice.

He looked at me furiously, but the anger in his eyes was overridden by something else: Fear. His jaw clenched, hands curling around the hilt of his sword as if it could be a lifeline clutched against panic mounting in him. I appeared harmless to most things: a young boy, after all, and handsome. But to Malker, I was a monster born from the butchery of his dead comrades.

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I could see it in the way the sweat dripped on his brow and how his knuckles whitened as he steeled himself. "I'll ask you again," I repeated, my voice like ice. "Are you Malker?" He stood frozen for a moment, then straightened his back, trying to hide the fear with bravado: "So what if I am?". "Then, I'll take your head." I proclaimed. With a flick of an eye, I was gone from his sight, and a gust of wind traced my trajectory.

When I re-emerged, I stood at his back, my sword already sheathed. "Your head's already cut off," I said coldly. Malker stood still like his body hadn't entirely realized that his world had come to an end. And then, bit by bit, his head slipped out of his neck and plopped to the floor. His eyes, now lifeless, looked up at me, wide with terror, frozen in surprise even as the light of them died.

Power filled me. Skill, strength, and experience overflowed from Malker into me. Then, I turned toward Silvia, who had fallen against a broken tree trunk, her eyes open wide in shock. She had seen everything—the way I had dispatched the man who had defeated her as if it were nothing. I reached her, kneeling beside her. I began to tie all those messy bandages around her as stop-blot blood, but she winced and did not protest.

"How did you?" she finally whispered, her voice quivering with exhaustion and awe. "Sleep," I whispered. "I'll explain later." A few more moments passed, and her body gave in to exhaustion. She rested, breathing shallowly but regularly. Silvia had fought a guy who outranked her in strength and survived, which was beyond what most D-ranked adventurers could do. But this battle was over.

We won, and now that we had Malker's head, we would soon collect our reward.

Day 36

Silvia woke up, her face tightening as though she had just escaped the claws of a nightmare. Most of her body was bandaged due to the brutal fight she had endured. Her groggy eyes blinked open, taking in the unfamiliar room. "Hey, you're awake. Good," I said, leaning back in the chair beside her bed, arms crossed casually.

She groaned and raised a hand to her head. "How long was I out?" "Five days," I replied. Her eyes widened as memories of the carnal confrontation crashed down like an unyielding wave. "The bandits... What happened to them?" she asked, a sharpness creeping into her voice.

I leaned forward slightly. "Don't worry. I dealt with them. As for the Bandit Captain, I brought his head to the Guild." Her relief was brief; a moment later, her expression tightened again. With surprising strength, she grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me closer. Though her grip was weak, it radiated intention.

"You...You lied to me, didn't you?" she hissed, the words slipping out from the back of her throat, low and accusing. I frowned, perplexed. "What are you talking about?" "Stop pretending to be dumb!" she snapped, her voice so angry that it was beginning to crack.

"I saw how you moved when you killed Malker. An amateur could never move like that. What are you?" With her burning eyes pinned straight on me, it felt like there was no escape. I sighed, setting aside her trembling hands, which were still tightly clenching my shirt. "I know you’re still shocked about what happened, but let me go first."