Wiping the blood from his longsword, a middle-aged man frowned, his face gleaming under the light of campfires. An oblique scar streaked down his face—a hardened man who’d served in the country’s military once upon a time.
“Captain,” a voice cut through the silence. A lanky bandit with unkempt hair stepped forward.
“We’ve killed the last of the Nightlash wolves. What’re your orders?”
The captain’s eyes didn’t shift from the now clean blade in his hand. “Check the perimeter.”
“But… We just lost 6 men, nobody’s gonna want to—”
The captain’s sharp glare made his voice catch in his throat, there was no need for any extra words.
“Y-yes, Captain.” The bandit turned, barking orders at the others.
Grabbing a bottle of spare liquor, the captain finally sheathed his blade, his eyes narrowing as he looked into the dark forest.
Something wasn’t right.
Nightlash wolves didn’t attack without a leader. It didn’t make sense... Unless they’d been driven here that is. A predator strong enough to cause a whole stray pack of Nightlash wolves to migrate?
Could there be a demonic beast?
Many may not understand what it means to face such a monster, but he did. He closed his eyes tightly before letting out a sigh. Still, tonight was a victory, the Nightlash pelts would fetch a fair price on the market.
Fifteen minutes later, the bandits reported back. The entire perimeter had been scoured clean, and there were no signs of anything unusual.
Well, almost no signs.
“Captain, Miller and Jeris are missing,” one of the men said, his voice tinged with apprehension.
“Missing?”
“Yes, sir. They were stationed by the food. We found a trail of blood leading into the forest.”
He followed the man to the food storage, where a grim scene awaited: blood smeared across the grass with ripped clothing and abandoned swords. Inspecting the surroundings for a minute, he had a good idea of what happened, “Stray Nightlashes must’ve taken them,” he continued, “They were probably bringing some back for their young”
Muttering under his breath, “Damn bastards, dying to a mere wolf, I knew Jeris was a lazy ass, but I thought Miller was better than that”
One of the bandits chimed in, a friend of Miller, “Should we search for the bodies?”
The captain scoffed, “Forget it, we have their swords, besides, do you want to fight some Nightlash Wolves in the forest just to get back some half-eaten corpses?”
The man went silent, realizing he had asked a foolish question.
The captain’s hand rested on his chin for a moment in thought, “Post new guards, Jeremy and Sen are free, right? And burn the dead, we’re eating well tonight.”
The bandits cheered, their morale rising at the prospect of fresh meat and full bellies, “You’re the best, Captain!”
<hr>
Over an hour later, the camp was engulfed in silence while the strong scent of alcohol permeated the air. Among the sea of sleeping bandits, a lone figure moved under the dead of night, taking in the scene.
Honestly, he was shocked, he truly hadn’t expected all of the bandits to drink so much alcohol, not only had they all drunk, but they had all drunk so much that they emptied their previous bottles and gotten new alcohol. For most of them, this was expected, but for every single one of them to do it? Bandits truly were different!
A soft smile appeared on his face, it could be said that the plan couldn’t have gone more perfectly, but his heart was still beating rapidly.
Peering into tent after tent, he continued to find various plunder: piles of clothing, gambling tables, and even harshly bruised women who were bound by chains. He wanted to release them, but now was not the time, nothing could go wrong. However, as he continued to search and circled the whole valley, Lei was unfound.
His fist clenched till it turned white, was he here for nothing?
No. At the very least, he would get revenge for his parents.
By the time he returned to the camp’s heart, the night had gotten even colder, casting a wind that left a chill against his skin. He glanced at the various bandits sleeping soundly. Normally, he would go for the captain first in case anything went wrong, but since he needed information about Lei, keeping the most informed person alive—which was likely the captain—was paramount.
He hovered over a bandit who was alone and took out his knife, but frowned in the next moment. How can he kill them without having them wake up and make noise?
Lin was a hunter, not an assassin, he didn’t know the correct spot to strike at.
Looking back at the tents, an idea popped into his mind, he dragged him into the most isolated tent he could find and then stuffed his mouth with a dirty rag. Taking a deep breath, His blade mercilessly struck into a soft zone of the man’s neck, the place he assumed would lead to the quickest death.
The bandit immediately opened his eyes and coughed, blood seeping from the wound as he sluggishly flailed around. It seemed the poison was stronger than he had thought, as the guy could barely move around as he bled out.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
A deep unease welled within him while he watched this disgusting scene, but his resolve was stronger. Within 30 seconds, the muffled noise was gone, and he walked back to the campfires, grabbing another bandit.
With each kill, his movements grew more precise, his strikes faster. He stuffed their mouths, wrapped their heads in blankets, and figured out the most vulnerable spot on their necks. One by one, the bandits fell, their drunken and poisoned bodies unable to fight back.
Then, as he dispatched another man, a strange sensation unlike any he had felt before rippled through him while black ink scrawled across his vision, forming elegant text:
┃ You have received Low-Grade Spearmanship Talent
Lin froze, “Low-Grade Spearmanship? But I’m not even using a spear”, he immediately brought up his status.
┃ (Status) Name: Lin Dawnbloom Age: 15, Longevity: 100
┃ (Physique) None — 8
┃ (Mana) None — 0
┃ (Spirit) None — 0
┃ (Talents) Low-Grade Spearmanship
┃ (Affinities) None
┃ (Arcana) None
┃ (Aptitudes) None
┃ (Traits) None
Why?
Was it because he killed a certain amount of bandits? Or because he killed this specific bandit? But this guy clearly had a sword by his waist.
Although Lin was unable to grasp the reasoning behind gaining this talent, his eyes shone with excitement. He could gain talents! If killing these bandits granted talents, he could grow stronger. His grip on his knife tightened as he resumed his work, assassinating the remaining men with cold efficiency.
However, after spending an entire hour killing off nearly all the bandits, there were no new notifications. But he wasn’t disappointed, even gaining one talent was a sign that he could change his fate in this world.
Knowing he needed to keep a few alive for questioning, he took some ropes from a tent he had seen previously and dragged them out into the forest before tying them to a few trees. Heading back to the camp, he couldn’t help but think that he should have packed some ropes himself for such a situation, that had been an oversight.
Finally, he stood before the captain, a large burly man with a thick beard and a jagged scar across his face. However, now he was merely lying against a log, sleeping while clutching a jar of ale.
Lin walked around to his side and aimed his knife, then swiftly stabbed into the man’s right thigh with all his strength. He didn’t want to kill, only incapacitate.
The captain’s eyes jolted open to the searing pain of a knife buried in his thigh. His roar echoed throughout the camp as he swung an arm, smashing the glass jar he’d been holding against Lin’s head.
Lin staggered, pain blinding him as shards dug into his skin. But the captain was already on his feet, blood running down his injured leg.
“Who the fuck are you?!” the man bellowed, lunging at him.
Lin barely dodged, his mind racing. The poison—why wasn’t it working? The captain shouldn’t be able to move, let alone attack.
He only just managed to raise his arms to block when another fist knocked him away and sent his body skidding along the mud.
What strength!
The captain bellowed, “Who the fuck are you, brat!? Men! Get him!” But only silence followed his voice. When he darted his gaze across the empty camp, he seemed to have understood something and he grimaced. His face turned red as he dashed forward, “Bastard!!”
Lin’s mind raced, analyzing his opponent. The injury wasn’t slowing him enough—but he could exploit it! He immediately zigzagged and veered off to the left, trying to circle around the captain’s injured leg.
“You little fucker!”
It was working! Lin took his hunting bow from his shoulder and swiftly released an arrow. He wasn’t nearly as accurate as if he was standing still, but he could still run and shoot.
The captain unsheathed his sword in an instant, deflecting the arrow with ease. Lin cursed under his breath, this wasn’t going to plan, did the captain not drink the sleeping poison like he thought?
Sweat dripping, Lin knew he needed to gain distance, so he deliberately pulled out an empty vial from his backpack and threw it. The glass glinted in the firelight as it arced through the air.
The captain’s eyes narrowed, sidestepping to evade. But before he could react, Lin let another arrow fly—a snake-like shot that relied on the fact that he knew the captain would use his uninjured leg to dodge.
The arrowhead slammed into the captain’s cheek with a sickening crack, flipping his head back.
Lin didn’t hesitate. He poured out shots like rain, each arrow digging into its target. The bandit’s large frame buckled, blood staining his clothes as he collapsed to the ground, his breathing ragged but his glare defiant.
Nocking another, Lin approached cautiously. Arrows jutted from the captain’s body and his cheek was ripped apart revealing the bone, yet he still wasn’t dead.
Lin spoke slowly, “Female, Beautiful, purple eyes, 1.4 meters tall, skinny, and black hair”
The captain spit out blood, “What the fuck are you talking about—shit, how the hell did you poison me”
“Where’s the 10-year-old girl you took”
The captain’s eyes seemed to drown in fury as he glared at Lin from the ground, “Fucking kill me”
Lin frowned, “Tell me where she—”
“I don’t fucking know god damnit!” The man wheezed as blood left his body, “If we had a noble girl like that, you think we would be camping out here?”
Lin remained silent.
He started to laugh, “I thought it was weird some noble kid was ambushing our camp, so it’s like that, I understand!”
“What do you mean”
The captain smiled.
Then, a dagger flashed in front of Lin’s face, forcing his eyes to widen in shock. When? How?
It was only subconscious reflex and the slowness of the dagger that allowed him to barely twist his head away, but it still managed to slice through his cheek. Without hesitation, Lin released an arrow at the captain’s head, splitting into his skull.
His right hand reached up to touch his now bloody cheek, “Fuck, I should have been more careful—”
┃ You have received Low-Grade Knight Aptitude
His hand suddenly paused as a coolness spread from within his body, similar to when he had received the spearmanship talent.
He pulled up his status without delay:
┃ (Status) Name: Lin Dawnbloom Age: 15, Longevity: 100
┃ (Physique) None — 8
┃ (Mana) None — 0
┃ (Spirit) None — 0
┃ (Talents) Low-Grade Spearmanship
┃ (Affinities) None
┃ (Arcana) None
┃ (Aptitudes) Low-Grade Knight
┃ (Traits) None
Knight aptitude!
The problem was, he didn’t really know what having a knight aptitude meant. Weren’t knights high-ranking soldiers who wore full plate, wielded swords, and rode horses? Was there really an aptitude for that?
No, using the knowledge of his old world’s knights to understand this world’s ones was a foolish endeavor. Maybe he was poisoned, but because he was a Knight with this knight aptitude he could resist the effects and give such a strong counter-attack.
Grabbing the bandit captain’s fallen sword, Lin lifted it up and swung down, then left, right, and so forth. Yet nothing happened. He did not feel enlightened, nor adept at swinging it, truthfully the only reason he wasn’t incredibly clumsy was due to his years of chopping firewood with an axe.
Perhaps this aptitude wasn’t as good as he had thought, or maybe it was just what it said, an aptitude. But where could he learn Knight skills as a peasant?
Letting his thoughts wander, he eventually directed his attention to the various tents which cast shadows across the lake, a soft smile appeared on his face.
“Well, I’m sure I’ll figure it out somehow, but for now it’s time to take my loot”