Chapter 17: Bandits Again?

  Damon turned around in alarm only to realize the guard had called out to a different visitor and not him. As he let out a sigh of relief, one of the other guards glanced in his direction and caught sight of his face peeking out from under the hood.

  That boy… He looks quite similar to the portrait that the masked man had shown us earlier… The age description is correct, and he is trying to hide his face with his deep hood. I am certain it is him. Now, should I report it to the man for the promised reward? Or should I keep it to myself because the man is obviously looking for the kid with bad intentions? The guard mused to himself.

  Damon’s figure grew distant and eventually disappeared down the road as the guard continued to contemplate. He decided he wouldn’t give the boy up, as he was reminded of his son back at home. He couldn’t give up a child, regardless of what they had done.

  Damon trekked through the forest along the route he had decided on. The journey was much more comfortable as he had been able to buy additional supplies that gave him increased comfort, such as tanned hide tarps to prevent water from wetting him when it rained. After around a week or two of travel, he finally saw the so-called Stonepillar Mountain in the distance. It was not very tall, but it was quite wide. It had steep cliffs devoid of any vegetation. It was also quite circular in shape, and the summit of the mountain was flattened off, allowing for some trees to thrive at the very top. It truly looked like a stone pillar rising from the earth. On one side of the mountain, a small waterfall could be seen cascading down the cliff face.

  That must be where the lake is located. I should head in that direction. Damon concluded and continued slowly trekking toward the mountain.

  As Damon drew closer to the mountain, he could hear some yelling and shouting in the distance, along with some high-pitched screams and the crying of children. Worried about the situation, he ran as quickly as his injured foot allowed, reaching a small village in a few minutes. Signs of battle and struggle could be seen near the entrance, but there were no bodies or combatants currently. This village appeared larger than Pinemist Village, with wooden poles and planks forming a barrier around the village, and the houses built within were made of solid wood and looked quite sturdy. It looked like the work of a skilled craftsman, rather than a normal villager.

  Damon hurriedly entered the village through the main gate and hurried down the main road before slowing down as he approached a large clearing near the end. There appeared to be dozens of villagers rounded up in the center of the clearing. Women and the elderly were shielding the children in their arms as the men were kneeling or crouching at the edge of the circle. A few men could be seen lying motionless in front of this group. Surrounding them were around two dozen bandits, wearing shabby clothes and wielding a variety of poorly maintained weapons and shields.

  “Look here, we’re only here to borrow some supplies. My men here and I have been going through some rough times lately and haven’t had anything to eat in over a week! Just give us your valuables, enough food to last us a month, and several chests full of nice clothes. How about it? We’ll definitely pay you back once we get back on our feet again!” The one talking at the front was an average-sized man with unkempt shoulder-length brown hair. Though he did not look like the strongest of the bandits, he was obviously the smartest and their leader.

  “Hahahahaha!!!” The other bandits started guffawing at the words of their leader. One of the bandits had been staring at a young maiden with a lustful gaze and stepped forward to grab her by her hair and drag her out of the group.

  “Let me borrow this one as well! I just need her to serve me for a little while, as I have injured my arm and can’t tend to myself. All the lords have maidservants, so why can’t I?” The bald man laughed as he dragged the screaming and kicking girl from the group.

  “No! Don’t you dare touch her! We are willing to give you the supplies you’ve asked for, but we would rather fight to the death than let you take away our women and children!” A middle-aged man with short, straw-like hair and rough stubble stood up from the front and rushed out to stop the bandit. A young boy around the age of 10 with similar hair ran alongside him and crouched protectively in front of the girl.

  “No? Hahaha! What can you even do about it? Fellow brothers, let’s just eliminate them all!” yelled the bald man. The bandit had let go of the girl when the two villagers had rushed forward.

  As the other bandits started getting riled up, the leader yelled out, “Stop! We have already gone through this. It’s like raising crops. If we eliminate this village like the others, we will have no choice but to move and find a new village instead of being able to settle down comfortably nearby. Do you want to keep living a nomadic lifestyle, or do you want to eat and drink in leisure?”

  The bandits quickly suppressed their desires and thoughts at the leader’s words. He was right. They had destroyed a few villages already and had to move around looking for new targets. Although the sense of fulfillment from taking everything at once was quite joyful at the time, it was temporary, and hard times came by if they didn’t find a new village quickly. To be able to live a long and comfortable life, they had to be willing to make some sacrifices.

  Damon was watching with his Mindsense from behind a house. He realized these bandits were even worse than the ones that had previously attacked his village. From their conversation, it seemed as though these bandits had already destroyed their fair share of villages. Who knew how many lives they had destroyed, and futures snuffed out too early.

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  These filthy bandits. Why do they exist everywhere I go? What is the King of Mugthorne doing, letting these miscreants run amok? However, that man with the straw-like hair. He must be the village chief. He reminds me of my mother and father, when they stood protectively in front of me… That boy, however. He is much braver than I was back then.

  Damon felt his anger rise as he witnessed the scene. He could no longer just stand by and watch, running his hand across his quiver of arrows. Around 10 arrows slowly floated into the air, before dispersing in different directions. They were following a route of attack that made it seem as though the bandits had been encircled by archers.

  The arrows propelled by telekinesis traveled far quicker than normal. The bandits were still in the middle of listening to their leader’s words when they heard several whooshing sounds followed by the thuds of their comrades falling. They looked around in alarm and saw arrows protruding from the heads of 10 of their companions, but they could not see any attackers.

  “Shit, we’re under attack! There are multiple archers, and there may be other warriors or soldiers too! Group up and ready your shields! We’ll charge toward the entrance in one go!” The leader had not been one of the initial targets, allowing him to gather his men into a shabby formation. However, this was not enough to faze Damon.

  Damon had already sent out the next wave of arrows as soon as the first barrage had landed. By the time the bandits hastily grouped up, another 10 arrows had arrived and pierced their heads with unerring accuracy. This dropped the number of bandits down to six, including the leader and the bald man. They no longer had the number needed to form a circular formation with shields.

  The remaining bandits, except the leader and the bald man, threw down their weapons and sprinted down the main road in horror and desperation, only to be skewered by the third wave of arrows. They fell to the ground, looking like pincushions.

  The bandit leader knelt down in despair and cried out in surrender. The bald man, however, was closer to the villagers, especially the girl he had grabbed earlier. He jumped forward to grab her again, holding a knife to her throat.

  The villagers all yelled out but retreated at the sight of the gleaming knife. A small line of red blood had appeared on the fair neck of the young girl. “Who’s there? Show yourselves! How are the arrows curving mid-air? What manner of black magic is this!” The panicked bandit’s chest and shoulders were heaving due to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. His pupils had constricted to pinpoints, and cold sweat was running profusely down his head and back.

  At this moment, the sound of crunching gravel came from behind a house as a cloaked figure emerged. Damon pulled back his hood and showed his face. He no longer had any qualms about slaying other humans as long as he was certain they were evil, or if it was for his own survival. He had already experienced too much in his short life to still remain a naive boy.

  “Oh? You know of black magic? Have you encountered a cultivator before?” Damon asked in curiosity.

  “What? Cultivator? I’m talking about the evil magic used by the witches in children’s tales! You’re just a child. Where is the rest of your group? Show yourselves, or else I will slit this girl's throat!” The bandit was momentarily stunned by Damon’s youthful features and his confusing words. He quickly grit his teeth and bared them in a fierce scowl, putting up a brave front even as he was trembling in fear.

  Meanwhile, the bandit leader’s eyes widened when he heard Damon’s words. He was born into a noble family. Though the family eventually fell into ruin due to the past generation’s debts, he had still received higher education than regular people, meaning he had encountered texts describing the powerful abilities of the so-called cultivators. Almost wetting his pants in fear, he prostrated himself to Damon and yelled out, “Sir Cultivator, I apologize for my actions. I had become greedy and walked down the wrong path. I promise to reform myself and walk only the righteous path in the future!”

  As the leader was yelling, he heard a scream of pain, along with two thuds. He slightly raised his head and saw the situation out of the corner of his eyes. The bald bandit had dropped the knife and fallen over on the ground, clutching his head while convulsing. He did not know how it happened, but it appeared the village girl was safe, as she had run back into her mother’s arms immediately after.

  Damon ignored the leader’s pleas and walked over to the middle-aged man with the straw-like hair. This man was the chief of this village. Standing next to the chief was his son, the young boy with similar features and hair. He had a round face and light blue eyes. He looked innocent and pitiful, but his earlier actions showed his immense courage.

  “Sir Savior, how could we ever thank you and your group for saving our village from these heinous criminals?” The chief bowed his head low when Damon arrived in front of him. The chief’s son clung to his father’s side and looked up at Damon with both admiration and a bit of fear.

  Damon smiled at the two and said, “No need for any thanks. Besides, it is just me; there is no group. I have been looking for a quiet place to settle for a while as I heal my injuries from my travels. Would it be acceptable if I were to stay near this village?”

  “Of course! It would be our honor to accommodate you, Sir! Please just let us know where you would like to stay, and David, our carpenter, can help you build a house in that location!” The chief’s thoughts quickly churned in his head as he surmised that such a mysterious, yet friendly figure settling down near their village could only be beneficial.

  “That would be much appreciated,” Damon replied as he turned around. He started walking back out of the village to inspect the surrounding area.

  “Sir Savior, what of the bandit leader and the rest of the bodies?” The chief hurriedly called out.

  Damon paused in his steps to respond before continuing his pace. “Just call me Damon. You can do with the leader and the rest as you see fit.” He did not care for the lives of scum.

  The bandit leader looked up in dread as he saw the village men grab the dropped weapons and surround him. At the side, the village chief was still bowing down in thanks toward the direction Damon had disappeared. At his side, his son stood wide-eyed as his curiosity and admiration of Damon grew increasingly stronger.

  When I grow older, I want to be like him! Strong and mysterious!

  Damon's story has come full circle now, and you can see how much he's grown since the day he left the village.