Steadily the Variant marched closer to the tree line, his eyes never straying from his destination, his intention clear as day. In the trees the target of that gaze gulped loudly as cold sweat ran down his back and chilled his spine. The forest had seemingly gone quiet try as he might he couldn’t hear the bugs or the birds. It was like everything had fled the instant the Variant revealed himself.

Nervously the young bandit tried to bring his crossbow to bear but for the life of him he just couldn’t seem to aim it straight. Suddenly the Variant stops and crouches down into an odd pose the bandit had never seen before. One leg was positioned straight behind him while the other was bent with the knee almost touching his chest with his butt in the air. Both hands were on the ground in front of him to balance his weight.

The bandit had only a second to notice his legs tense up before he blurred forward, directly towards him. With a loud thunk two bolts impacted the ground where he was standing just a moment ago. With dawning horror the bandit tries to line up his crossbow but unlimately abandons it as he realizes he’ll never hit such a fast target.

He chucks the crossbow as hard as he can at the approaching blur and draws the sword at his waist. He’s unsurprised when his crossbow fails to stop its target but he is surprised when the Variant catches the weapon out of midair by the grip, his finger already around the trigger. With dread the bandit realizes that it’s pointed directly at him. With a lunge born from pure desperation he narrowly escapes the crossbow bolt sailing over his head but fails to account for the rock waiting to cushion his fall.

The world turns into a blurry mess as he feels his life’s blood pool around him. Dimly he’s aware of the red eyed demon standing over him holding his sword. No, as his life neared it’s end it occurs to him that it isn’t his sword, not really. It was his grandfathers the man who took him in and raised him after that scumbag of a father finally drunk himself to death.

And he’d stolen it and left after Robin the suave bandit leader strolled through town and filled his head with stories of riches, women, and brotherhood. It had all been a lie of course, soon the young man found himself scrubbing the floors and doing all the menial tasks for the bandit group. As for the woman...the less said about that the better. In fact this was his first ever run with a squad.

He’d been so excited until he saw the kindly looking farmer with flecks of white in his beard. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure anymore. Unfortunately it was too late to turn back so he could only raise his crossbow and fire at the lesser Dulbino pulling the cart.

He never even saw the figure until his bolt was in its hand. Now that same figure stood over him with his grandfathers sword in its hand. He couldn’t get a good look at the Variants face through the wetness pooling in his eyes and spilling down his face.

”I’m sorry Gramps I shoulda listened to ya when you told me to stay home I don’t wanna kill nobody.”

It might have been his imagination but he thought he saw the mighty figure hesitate before glancing at the sword in his hand.

Darkness began to fill the regretful young bandits vision but just before unconsciousness took him he thought he heard the Variant mutter something.

”Stupid twenty first century morals.”

With a sigh Corvo let the sword drop next to the young man laying unconcious on the ground. Slowly he turned his head from side to side but he already knew the other bandits were long gone those last two shots had simply been for show. Depressed Corvo sullenly places the young mans sword back in its sheathe and straps is to his hip. With a heave he tears a part of the punks shirt and wraps it around his head.

”Honestly what kinda dumbass goes out to rob people without even wearing any armor.”

With a grace and gentleness that bellied his impressive size Corvo lifted the young man into his arms and began waking back towards the cart. Before he had even cleared the tree line however he noticed something was very wrong.

The bizzare ox was laying dead in a pool of its own blood and the farmer was nowhere to be seen. With narrowed eyes Corvo gently set the young man down and took the sword from him. 

“I’ll have to borrow this for a little bit.”

Quickly he began circling round the clearing just out of sight of the road as he inched closer to where three armored heads poked out from behind cover. Corvo is tempted to take a shot with his stolen (or perhaps relinquished?) crossbow but ultimately decides not to for fear of the kindly farmers safety. 

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Instead he circles around the tree line as quickly as he possibly can. He knew he needed to hurry these men were on the open road and a patrol or another group of travelers could come upon them and scare them into doing something desperate. 

Corvo knew he was out of time to when one of the men stood up in a rage fueled panic and dragged the bleeding old farmer up with him.

“Alright you freak listen up! We’re leaving and taking this old fart and all his shit with us you try to stop us and he gets to meet the business end of my mace!”

Said mace was positioned right under the farmers chin it’s pointed tips digging into the skin of his neck. Corvo felt his fingers tighten on the grip of his crossbow, he’d been careless.

As the Variant was busy debating over what to do he caught sight of the subtle glint of sun on metal and realized he only had a second to react.

Blood dripped to the ground as he fired. With a howl the bandit clutches his hand where the knife had pierced it. One of the three stooges had noticed the glint as well luckily he was the farthest and could only raise his crossbow instead of his sword.

He never got the chance to fire as a crossbow bolt slammed into his crossbow and tore the ruined weapon out of his hand with enough force to tear the skin of his hand.

With a savage grin Corvo draws his borrowed blade and pulls upon the well of Mana deep within him. He exalts in the feel of it’s liquid coolness singing through his veins as he activates the only spell he knows.

 ”Haste”

The wind whips around his body causing the grass to wave in the breeze for a moment before he shoots off far faster than is humanly possible. In a moment he has cleared the ten meters between the tree line and the road his already superhuman speed doubled by the magic. 

The bandit who’s crossbow was ripped from his hand only had a moment to react before Corvos blade tasted its first kill. With a sharp tug he pulled the steel from his neck ignoring the splash of blood on his shirt. The man sank to the ground eyes wide as his hands futilely try to keep his life’s blood from pouring out.

With a shudder the bandit died as Corvo steps over his corpse. His blade is held out to the side blood dripping off the blades tip and onto the ground. He allows himself to shudder a little in pleasure as the bandits Experience floodes into him, vague memories of how to tan leather flitted through his head as he stalks closer to the only two bandits left. The one with the injured hand grips his mace in a clearly uncomfortable manner in his off hand.

The bandit standing between Corvo and the injured one looks about ready to wet himself as his knees literally knocked together. 

“Oh wait you actually did wet yourself” 

Corvo tried not to breathe through his nose as his sensitive sense of smell picked up on the middle bandits “accident.”

With a whimper the bandit falls to his knees in his own puddle and brings his hands up in a sign of begging. He opens his mouth to likely plead for mercy. He doesnt get the chance as a spiked mace tears though the back of his skull spilling blood and brain matter onto the road.

With a sigh the large bandit rolls his shoulders feeling the bandits Experience flood through him. He switches his mace back to his healed right hand and grins in satisfaction.

”Took me a while to get to the next Level but it was worth it to save that last kill until now.”

The bandit raises his head to stare and Corvo who is staring at the headless bandits body his face as unfeelingly stoic as it had been from the beginning.

”Man I never thought I’d actually meet one of you ruthless bastards in person. Course I knew you was real, I saw a corpse of one of you’s inside a cave full of dead monsters when I was just a lad.”

The bandit smiles amiably as he approaches talking like nothing was strange about their conversation. 

“That day I learned what it meant to be strong so I took the blue bastards mace and killed my parents with it, pushovers never shoulda cut my allowance.”

The bandit was now right in Corvo’s personal space his eyes even with the Variants.

”But ever since that day I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to kill one of you in person.”

The large bandit swings his mace without warning aiming for the Variants left arm. A yellow glow surrounds his weapon as he activates his Martial Art. The grin was still plastered on his face when the hand firmly gripped his forearm completely halting its momentum.

With horror the bandit stares at his arm gripped steadily in the Variants left hand. Slowly he raises his eyes to stare into those two red orbs.

”Bringing him in alive would have earned me a bonus on the bandit bounty.”

Slowly the Variant twists his right arm until he couldn’t hold his mace anymore. With a thud the heavy weapon hits the ground its yellow glow long gone.

With dawning fear the bandit considers pleading for his life, arguing that he could still earn him a bonus. One look in those empty red eyes was all it took for him to throw that notion out the window.

Strength born of desperation fueled him as he raised his knee to strike the Variant in the crotch. No matter how strong someone was a sharp blow to the right place could bring any man down.

The bandit found himself grinning in pride as blood suddenly covered the Variant in a spray. Confusion filled his face however when he met those apathetic eyes and saw what he thought was a little pity. 

“Oh”

Lowering his gaze the mountain of a bandit realized his left leg was missing at the knee. He wanted to scream, to curse, to do something, anything. He never got the chance as his vision suddenly started spinning, one moment he saw the endless blue sky the next he saw the Variant standing over a decapitated body. The bandits final thoughts filled his head a moment before his head it the ground.

”So that’s want a demon looks like.”