Book 1: Chapter 30 - The Man in Black

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“Timing and arrogance are decisive factors in the successful use of talent.”

- Marya Mannes.

More experience for her then, Seraphina thought ruefully, closing the carriage door behind her. The chaos outside had escalated, the melee now a whirling storm of steel, blood, and shouts. This was the sort of encounter that, in the game, would herald the appearance of a boss character or some other significant twist. But here, her role was different—she was the supposed antagonist of this tale, after all. The rules might not apply.

Gripping her halberd tightly, Seraphina threw herself into the fray. She slashed and stabbed wherever an opening presented itself, chipping away at the bandits’ numbers while the Royal Guard rallied. Nearby, Sergeant Frest maneuvered with practiced precision, his heavy crossbow cracking with lethal efficiency. Each bolt he fired seemed almost clairvoyant, striking foes Seraphina had not even noticed in the melee.

Suddenly, her path was blocked by a towering figure—a bandit leader, judging by his cleaner, slightly embellished armor and the malicious grin plastered across his face. He was enormous, not quite her father’s height but nearly as broad, and carried a massive battle axe that glinted menacingly. It was a weapon that had seen combat, its blade pitted and worn but deadly sharp.

“This is going to be fun,” he sneered, hefting the axe with ease.

“Get behind me,” Seraphina muttered instinctively, before remembering the Prince was still in the carriage, far from harm. She tightened her grip on her halberd, irritation flickering in her eyes.

The bandit leader, whoever he was, wasted no time. He swung his axe in a powerful arc that could have felled a tree. Seraphina leapt back, but the blade nicked her armor, sending sparks flying and shaving a chunk off her Health. Grimacing, she countered with a thrust aimed at his chest, but he deflected it with practiced ease, laughing as if this were merely sport.

You have learned Medium Armor (lvl.2)

You have learned Heavy Armor (lvl.1)

Oh well, there was always a silver lining to these things, she thought ruefully as she laughed.

“You’ll have to do better than that!” he taunted, almost spitting at her perceived taunt.

From somewhere, a crossbow bolt whistled through the air, punching through the mail at his shoulder and embedding itself in the bandit leader’s flesh and bone. He roared in pain, momentarily distracted. Seraphina did not hesitate—she surged forward, driving the butt of her halberd into his gut with enough force to make him double over. With a swift upward swing, this time channeling every ounce of her Strength into a Power Strike, she cleaved through him. The leader fell, nearly bisected, his axe clattering to the ground.

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You have slain a human 100 experience.

More for the pot, Seraphina mused, already contemplating where to allocate her points when she leveled up.

The death of their leader sent shockwaves through the bandit ranks. Without his bellowed orders and imposing presence, their morale crumbled. The Royal Guard seized the momentum, their renewed vigor driving some of the bandits back into a retreat. As always, no one wanted to be on the losing side when the tide of battle turned.

Seraphina fought on, her training and raw Strength carrying her through where her less-polished and very much mediocre Skills might have faltered. She was glad that the development team had not emphasized balance for the player experience. And for a moment, it seemed like victory was within reach. But just as relief began to settle over her, an eerie, guttural laugh echoed from beyond the shadows of the trees.

The sound froze everyone in their tracks. Emerging from the shadows of the ancient forest, a cloaked figure stepped forward. His dark robes seemed to writhe, as if alive, and his eyes glowed with an unnatural, malevolent light from beneath his dark cowl. He raised a hand, and tendrils of shadow began to rush outward, wrapping around fallen weapons and corpses like slinking serpents.

“Do not think this is over…” he hissed, his voice a rasp that carried easily over the battlefield. “You cannot escape me so easily. I’ve only just begun to play. My revenge will be had this day… I will delight in your torment!” he promised.

“Who are you?” Seraphina demanded, her halberd held at the ready. Whoever this was, it felt almost like a pantomime in its banal cliches.

“Names are of no consequence to those who are about to die,” the figure replied. “But if you insist, you may call me Shade.”

It took all of Seraphina’s formidable self-control to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. She wanted to do nothing more than slap him around for his stupid audacity.

The mysterious man raised his hand higher, the shadows around him intensifying, coalescing into monstrous shapes that loomed menacingly. A dark song could be heard, tinged with notes of oblivion as Mana formed into the physical realm.

Just as the tension reached its peak, a crossbow bolt suddenly embedded itself squarely in his forehead. The figure froze, his glowing eyes dimming before he collapsed onto the dirt with a dull thud.

If this was supposed to have been the ace in the bandit’s side then it had been truly badly played.

Sergeant Frest lowered his crossbow, his expression neutral as he trotted up beside her. “Dramatic types,” he muttered, sliding another bolt into place with practiced ease. “Always needing an audience. There’ll be time for speeches once the job’s done.”

As he scanned the battlefield, his eyes landed on a bandit writhing on the ground, clutching a wound. Without hesitation, Frest dismounted and approached. With the detached efficiency of a man completing a mundane chore, he plunged his blade into the bandit’s neck. The motion was fluid, deliberate—done with the same care and effort as someone folding a shirt.

He stood, wiping his blade clean on the bandit’s tunic, and turned back to Seraphina as if nothing had happened.

Seraphina exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “Well, that was certainly anticlimactic,” she agreed. She had wanted that experience! she thought to herself greedily.

“Let’s finish this off and save the day, I guess,” the young girl said with a sigh. There were, after all, a few warm bodies left that could be converted into numbers to help her with her next level up.

“Right behind you, milady!” Frest answered with his usual grin.

She turned her attention back to the remaining bandits, ready to end this fight once and for all.