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7. Blood and Shadows



It was a beautiful morning, reminiscent of early spring back on Earth—March or April, perhaps. The air was crisp, with a slight chill that signalled the change of seasons. However, the calendar here didn’t match Earth’s. Although they also had twelve months, the names varied depending on the kingdom. At some point, I would need to study the days and months in this world, but for now, I had more pressing matters. Today was the first meeting of The Nine Men.

Manes had laid out our task: destroy a notorious forest bandit camp and capture their leader, Radagos, either dead or alive. There was a substantial bounty on his head. He’d been involved in all kinds of horrible things—murder, slave trading, you name it. The authorities, as well as many merchants, wanted him brought to justice. If we succeeded in this mission, it would establish our newly formed mercenary group as a force to be reckoned with.

Manes, always the strategist, had leads on Radagos’s location. So, we set out from Zeonica, travelling northeast toward a small village called Zeocorys. The journey wasn’t long, but it gave me time to reflect. I had only recently found myself in this strange world, and already, I was neck-deep in its struggles. Would this life suit me? Only time will tell.

When we arrived at Zeocorys, the village looked much like others we had passed—small, humble, and filled with hardworking people. Villagers were busy harvesting their crops, loading them onto wagons bound for the town market. But something was off. There was an undercurrent of unease, visible in the furrowed brows and tight-lipped expressions of the farmers. The usual cheer of rural life seemed absent here, replaced with a sense of dread.

Manes instructed us to rest while he met with his contact in the village to gather information about the bandits' camp. He gave strict orders: eat, sleep, and prepare, for we might see action tonight. After distributing the daily wages and food to the recruits, I finally had a moment to myself. The inn’s bed, though simple, felt like a luxury after so many nights spent on the road. I managed to catch a short nap, but the weight of the upcoming battle lingered in my thoughts.

That evening, Manes returned with the information we needed. The bandits’ hideout was nearby, and we had to strike under the cover of darkness. The moon was dim, its light filtering weakly through scattered clouds, which suited our purposes. We departed from the village in silence, only taking four men with us. The remaining six stayed behind to guard our belongings, as moving with too large a group might alert the bandits.

After walking for about an hour without torches—relying solely on the faint moonlight to guide our way—we arrived at the bandits’ hideout. It was nestled at the foot of a mountain, a cave partially concealed by the natural rock formations. Two guards patrolled the entrance, their silhouettes barely visible in the darkness. There was no telling how many more bandits were inside, but we guessed most would be asleep by now. Aside from a small campfire within the cave, the guards carried no torches, which worked to our advantage.

Manes and I would have to eliminate the sentries quietly. We moved in sync, waiting for the clouds to obscure the moon completely. In the shadows, we crept forward, using the natural terrain to stay out of sight. I took up a position behind a bush, only ten feet away from one of the guards. There were no trees between us, just a few scattered shrubs. I held my breath and slowly inched forward.

Suddenly, I heard a soft rustle. Manes had misstepped, his foot crunching on dry leaves. The guards turned their heads, sensing the disturbance. There was no time for subtlety now. Before they could unsheathe their swords, Manes and I lunged at them, taking them down swiftly. The encounter was over in seconds, and the forest was silent once again.

I signalled for the others, who had been waiting in the tree line, to join us. The real challenge lay ahead—the bandits inside the cave. We had counted ten figures sleeping within, four of whom were chained, likely prisoners. That left six bandits for us to deal with, one for each of us. If we could take them out without waking the others, this would be an easy victory. I led the way into the cave, my heart pounding in my chest.

We moved as quietly as possible, each of us creeping toward our assigned targets. The dim glow of the dying campfire cast long shadows across the cavern walls, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Everything seemed to be going according to plan until one of our men—a newer recruit—stumbled. The noise echoed through the cave, jarring the sleeping bandits awake.

It was too late to maintain stealth. Four of us were already in position, so we struck before the bandits could fully comprehend what was happening. I drove my sword into the throat of the nearest bandit, silencing him before he could shout. Blood gushed from the wound, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I pressed my foot against his chest to pull my blade free.

The others acted with similar precision, though Manes wasn’t as fortunate. As he moved to finish his target, the bandit managed to draw a knife from his waist and slashed at Manes’s shoulder. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was enough to slow him down. Still, we had taken out four bandits before they could mount a defence.

That left two, including Radagos himself. The bandit leader, realizing he was outnumbered, grabbed one of the captives—a young girl—and held a knife to her throat. Her eyes, instead of showing fear, were filled with sorrow and regret.

“If you let me go, I’ll leave the girl unharmed,” Radagos snarled, his voice dripping with malice.

I had no interest in negotiating with him, but I needed to be cautious. One wrong move and the girl’s life could be in jeopardy. I motioned for one of my men to take the wounded Manes and the freed captives outside for treatment. Without Manes, we were down on strength, but Radagos and his remaining lackey were only armed with knives. We still had the advantage.

As my men left, I faced Radagos. “Do you think I care about saving slaves?” I said coldly. “I’m here for the gold. After I kill you, I’ll have enough to buy ten slaves. But I’ll give you a choice. Surrender now, and I might let you live. Resist, and I’ll tear you apart.”

One of the remaining bandits, terrified by my words, dropped his knife and surrendered immediately. I instructed one of my men to tie him up. Radagos, seeing his ally give up, realized he had no choice but to do the same. He released the girl, dropped his knife, and got on his knees.

As he knelt before me, I picked up the knife he had dropped and handed it to the girl. Her dull, sorrowful eyes flared with a new emotion—rage.


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