They were bandits. Eight of them, to be exact.

Kaiden shouldn’t have been worried; after all, the bandits were outnumbered. Eleven soldiers, including the corporal, stood ready to defend the caravan. But if these men were bold enough to try starting trouble despite being outnumbered, it could only mean one thing: they were strong. Stronger than Kaiden’s group, at least.

“Stop right there,” Jenser growled, his voice carrying authority as he stepped forward. “You’re approaching soldiers in the King’s army. What are your intentions?”

The bandits hadn’t drawn their weapons yet, save for the man at the front, presumably their leader. He held a dagger in one hand, lazily picking his nails with its edge as he walked.

Kaiden’s eyes scanned the group. Their mismatched outfits and weapons made it clear they weren’t part of any official organization, but there was something unnervingly cohesive about them. Each man wore some type of armor—scales, leather, chainmail—nothing uniform, but all of it functional and suited for combat. These men were prepared for a fight.

On Kaiden’s side, the contrast was stark. Only the corporal had anything resembling armor, a worn but serviceable set of medium leather. The rest of the group, including Kaiden, wore their standard military training attire. No armor, just swords, shields, and whatever meager experience they’d scraped together during their brief Dungeoneer careers.

The bandit leader, a tall man with a scruffy beard and shoulder-length hair, chuckled darkly at the Jenser’s words.

“Fuck your King’s army,” he said, his voice carrying an unsettling mix of amusement and disdain. “Me and my men here couldn’t help but notice you’ve got something we want.”

“We carry neither coin nor merchandise,” the corporal spat back. “Everyone knows that.”

The leader smirked, raising his dagger to gesture toward the group. “I’m not talking about that shit.”

His dagger settled, pointing directly at the only two women among the Dungeoneers.

Kaiden’s stomach twisted as he saw the fear in their eyes, their expressions frozen in horror.

“I’m talking about them.”

Jenser barked, "You're out of your goddamn minds! You think any of us are gonna stand by and watch you just take two of our soldiers?"

His face was twisted with fury, his voice ringing through the makeshift camp. The fire in his tone was mirrored in every Dungeoneer around him. Not one of them was willing to back down.

The two women, who had initially shown fear, now stood tall. One tightened her grip on her sword, the steel glinting in the sunlight. The other raised her hand, a faint glow beginning to emanate from her palm. A caster, Kaiden realized.

Adrenaline surged through Kaiden’s veins. His nerves from before evaporated, replaced by righteous anger. These weren’t just soldiers—they were Dungeoneers, comrades who faced and would continue to face life-threatening challenges together. He didn’t even know their names, but that didn’t matter. No one was going to take them.

To boss and back, Kaiden thought, a phrase ingrained in every Dungeoneer. Even if this wasn’t a dungeon, the sentiment held true.

The bandit leader chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “C’mon, I’m giving you a chance here. You don’t want to fight us.” He pointed his dagger at the group, his confidence almost palpable. “I’m C-ranked, and the rest of my boys here are D-rank. Hell, a couple might even be close to C-rank. You’re just a bunch of newbies without armor.”

The bandits erupted in laughter at their leader’s words, the sound echoing through the forest.

A bead of sweat formed on the Jenser’s forehead, betraying his concern. The bandit wasn’t wrong, and everyone, including Kaiden, knew it. The odds were grim.

But the corporal didn’t hesitate. “Defenders to me! Strikers on my left! Casters to my right! Bracers in the back!” he bellowed, his voice commanding and resolute.

The Dungeoneers sprang into action. Weapons were drawn, and they shifted into formation with surprising precision and speed. Their movements caught the bandits off guard for a moment, the laughter dying in their throats.

Then the leader sneered and regained his composure. “You’re only going to get everyone killed! There’s no rescue for you out here!” He raised his dagger high and bellowed, “Kill them all—except for the women!”

A chorus of cheers erupted from the bandits as they drew their weapons.

Kaiden clenched his fists, his heart pounding in his chest. The fight was inevitable now.

Two defenders lined up on the Jenser's flanks, one of them being the stocky man Kaiden had shared watch with the previous night. To the left, four Strikers readied themselves, gripping their weapons with grim determination. The lone Caster, one of the women the bandits had targeted, stood off to the right. Two Bracers, including the other woman, assembled at the rear, prepared to heal and support as needed.

Kaiden, however, didn’t fall back with the Bracers. Instead, he lined up with the Strikers, gripping his sword tightly and squaring his shoulders. He increased their numbers to five. If he could make a difference in the fight, it would be here—up front, where the damage was dealt. After all, with the Striker artifact bound to him, he could technically be called a Striker. He only hoped it would be enough to prevent more bloodshed on their side.

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Then, suddenly fight broke out into chaos.

The bandits charged headlong into the melee, weapons swinging with reckless abandon. Though outnumbered, their confidence bordered on arrogance. Their leader had bragged about their ranks and skill, and it showed. These weren’t run-of-the-mill thieves; they were seasoned fighters, some clearly veterans of countless battles.

The bandits, though clearly confident, didn’t seem to have any Casters among them. All eight charged in with swords, daggers, and sheer ferocity. Kaiden found himself face-to-face with one almost immediately.

It was less of a coordinated battle and more of a frantic brawl. No one among the Dungeoneers had trained together, meaning they didn’t know each other’s abilities, strengths, or limitations. That lack of cohesion weighed heavily against them. The best they could hope for was to fight tooth and nail and pray the numbers played in their favor.

kaiden’s sword swords clashed with a sharp clang against the bandits’, the force barely jolting through his arm. The bandit, however, stumbled slightly from the impact, his arm flung wide, and Kaiden seized the opening. It was clear from that exchange. Kaiden was stronger. Much stronger. With a swift follow-up, his blade slashed across the man’s throat. The steel bit into flesh with ease, and the bandit fell back, blood spurting from the deep wound. The man couldn’t even scream as he collapsed, choking on his last breaths.

Kaiden didn’t stop to watch. He was already moving to his next target—a man with chainmail over scale armor who preseed a fellow Dungeoneer into a losing battle. The soldier’s sword clattered to the ground, his hand limp and bleeding from a nasty gash. The bandit stood over him and raised his blade for a killing blow.

But Kaiden’s sword struck first.

His blade found the back of the bandit’s neck, slicing deep. The steel wasn’t sharp enough and didn’t cut cleanly through but lodged halfway, severing the spinal cord. The bandit fell forward, dead before he hit the ground. Kaiden cursed under his breath as he yanked the weapon free, blood dripping from the blade. He didn’t have time to dwell.

The Dungeoneer on the ground looked up at Kaiden, gratitude flashing in his eyes, but there was no time for thanks.

Kaiden’s gaze swept the battlefield, and his stomach churned.

His side was losing, but all was not lost as Kaiden sought out his next target.

Dungeoneers fell one by one. Not all were dead—some were wounded, pulled back by the Bracers desperately trying to stabilize them—but the tide was turning against them. Kaiden glanced toward the corporal, who was locked in combat with the bandit leader alongside the two defenders. Even with the Caster providing support from behind, they were losing ground fast.

The bandit leader fought like a beast, his blade moving with terrifying speed and strength. One other bandit backed him up. Jenser, bleeding and battered, could barely hold them off, and the two defenders with him weren’t faring much better. Fireballs from the Caster streaked across the battlefield, but so far, they had done little more than distract the leader.

Soon enough, all the Strikers were down. The defenders had fallen. Only the corporal, the Caster, one Bracer desperately working to heal the fallen, and Kaiden himself remained. On the other side, only the bandit leader and one of his men were left standing.

The remaining bandit glanced around the carnage and cried out, “Drev, maybe we should run!”

The leader snarled, his eyes blazing with frustration. “Shut up!” he roared. “They’re finished! And we take the women!” His face was a mask of rage. It was clear he hadn’t expected his side to take this much damage, but the gleam in his eye said he still believed victory was within reach.

Kaiden could see it too.

Jenser was on his last legs, and once he fell, it would just be Kaiden and the Caster left to hold the line. The Bracer wouldn’t be able to fight, too busy tending to the wounded.

It would be three against two.

But Kaiden wasn’t tired.

He wasn’t scared. His muscles burned with energy, his grip on his sword steady. He wasn’t going to let these bastards win.

“Corporal, fall back," Kaiden said, his voice firm and steady despite the chaos around them.

To his surprise, Jenser actually listened. He took a few shaky steps back, his face pale and slick with sweat. Without missing a beat, Kaiden rushed up behind him, slapped his arm, and cast Healing Touch. It wasn’t much, but it would help.

Kaiden didn’t question why the corporal had listened to him; there wasn’t time. He desperately wanted to use his Potion of All Heal—to save someone on the brink of death—but he couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the fight for more than a second. Jenser would live for now while the Bracer was already doing everything she could, scrambling to stabilize the fallen. Kaiden just prayed they could hold on long enough for him to finish this.

“I’ll take the leader,” Kaiden declared. A fire ignited in his chest as he stepped forward with purpose.

Jenser didn’t even argue. He was too weak to protest and no doubt saw Kaiden’s uninjured form as their only chance. Without a word, the corporal shifted to engage the remaining underling instead, his movements more deliberate now that his wounds were partially healed.

Kaiden squared off against the bandit leader, gripping his sword tightly. The bandit leader, Drev, as the other man had called him, was clearly stronger than Kaiden—that much was evident as their swords clashed.

That makes sense, Kaiden thought grimly, blocking another powerful swing. Most of my stats are in constitution, not strength. I’m more durable than I am good at dishing out damage.

But durability wasn’t enough. The bandit leader was not only stronger, but he was also a more skilled fighter. Every strike and counter came with a precision Kaiden couldn’t match. He was being outclassed on almost every front.

Shit, Kaiden thought, sweat dripping down his temple.

Still, he had an edge. He was faster than the leader, and he knew he could outlast him in endurance. If he could just hold the man off long enough for Jenser to take down the last bandit and join the fight, the two of them could take him down.

At least, that’s what Kaiden thought until he glanced over at the corporal.

The sight made his stomach drop. The man was barely holding his own against the underling. Each swing of his sword was slower than the last, and the bandit’s strikes were coming dangerously close to ending the fight.

Shit! Kaiden cursed again. He’s not healed enough yet.

Then a fireball slammed into the underling’s face, the caster’s aim finally landing true. The bandit screamed in pain, clawing at his face as the Jenser seized the opening. With one final, desperate thrust, Jenser finished the man off.

Kaiden didn’t waste another second. The corporal’s breathing was ragged, his stance unsteady, and Kaiden knew the man wouldn’t last long without help.

Screw it, Kaiden decided.

He jumped back from the bandit leader, putting a few paces of distance between them, and dropped his shield. A potion materialized in his hand as he dashed to the Jenser’s side. Without hesitation, he crushed it against the man’s chest.

The effect was instant. The corporal’s wounds began healing at an astonishing rate, his posture straightening as vitality surged through him.

At the same time, Kaiden’s own body was flooded with raw power. His muscles felt like they could crush steel, his speed like he could outrun the wind.

Thirty seconds!