Blū had once felt he needed Master Silver to show him the way. But lately, he was beginning to reconsider. Sometimes, it felt like Silver didn’t care what Blū did. Yet the older Blū got, the more it seemed Silver wasn't avoiding guidance out of apathy—but rather forcing Blū to find his own path. That said, Silver would certainly let him know if he thought that path was stupid.

  Blū and Yig walked together along the edge of the valley, eventually arriving at the border of the outer woodlands.

  Silver claimed Moonset was suffering from a bandit problem due to the lack of law enforcement. Apparently, the guards had grown either incompetent—or just lazy.

  Oy had said he would’ve tagged along but stayed back to practice a particular technique. So Blū was stuck with the blond boy.

  With each step, the pouch on Blū’s wrist jingled. Carrying money made sense to him—draw the bandits out, rather than go hunting for them.

  Yig yawned.

  “Tired?” Blū asked.

  “Still a bit weak from our fight.”

  Blū felt the same. It had only been a few hours since their match.

  An aura could actually replenish itself a fair bit in that time—but in their case, it hadn’t been enough to bounce back. They were probably just physically exhausted, too.

  Yig sighed. They continued walking. He sighed again.

  “What?” Blū asked.

  “Huh?”

  “You keep sighing. Why?”

  Yig shrugged. “I was hoping we’d have found some bandits by now or something.”

  Blū didn’t disagree. “You’re a Hero, though, no? Isn’t this your kind of thing?”

  Yig thought about that. “I’ve seen a lot of trees. And I’ve fought bandits before. I guess I just wanted to see something different.”

  “Spoken like a true Hero,” Blū replied, deadpan.

  “Thank you,” Yig said, genuinely.

  Suddenly, Blū snapped to attention—sensing something approaching from behind.

  He spun on his heel and kicked upward, catching a man across the cheek. The man staggered, then dropped to the dirt—still as a plank.

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  Blū’s pouch of coins jangled as it came loose from his waist and hit the ground.

  “Oh,” Yig said. “You found one.”

  A bellowing roar erupted around them as a crowd burst from the bushes.

  They wore dark woolen coats, each patched a dozen times over. Jagged, rusted blades flashed in their hands. Greasy, wild hair flopped from their heads.

  Yig sprang into action—leaping into the air and kicking two of the men off their feet. On the way down, he grabbed another by the face and slammed him into the ground.

  Blū, hands relaxed by his side, flicked his legs upward, knocking weapons from three of the bandits’ hands.

  As more closed in from behind, he spun—dodging two blades—then kicked them back.

  The fight continued. More bandits rushed them.

  One swung a sword as long as he was tall, aiming low to sweep their feet.

  Both Blū and Yig jumped to avoid it.

  Blū raised his leg high—foot stretching above his head—then whipped it down like a falling tower, striking the bandit square in the head and knocking him out cold.

  Yig’s head snapped back and forth, searching for more opponents. Bodies surrounded them—unconscious or too battered to keep fighting.

  “I win!” Yig said with a grin.

  “No,” Blū replied. “I took out more.”

  “What? How?”

  Blū pointed at the bandits. “One, two, three, four, five, six! You only got five!”

  “Hold on, I knocked out that guy.”

  “Who, him? I got him.”

  “The guy in red? Not a chance. I got him.”

  “I definitely knocked out the guy in red.”

  An axe spun from the trees, hurtling toward Blū’s face. Yig punched it out of the air and slammed it into the ground.

  “Hey!” Yig shouted at the trees. “Watch where you’re throwing those!”

  The stomping of a strange creature announced the arrival of another bandit. He rode a lizard unlike any Blū had seen—broad and flat, with a tongue long enough to scratch its own eye.

  Riding it was a large, rotund man in brown dungarees, with belts draped over his shoulders and axes strapped to the leather. His long orange hair matched a beard braided with beads, ending in a small slab of steel shaped like an axe head.

  “Gwahahaha!” the man roared. “Bow before the Great Bandit Leader, Bomar. Say your prayers, for the price of laying a hand on my men is to be chopped and minced by my axes!”

  Yig pointed to Blū. “Well, take him first. Apparently, he took out most of them.”

  Bomar unleashed a storm of axes, hurling them one after another until eight were spinning through the air.

  Blū and Yig dashed forward, avoiding every axe. Yig drew back his fist. Blū prepared a kick. They both struck Bomar’s hairy chest, launching him twenty feet into a particularly large tree.

  They walked over as the tree toppled behind Bomar, who groaned.

  “Fellers. Have mercy.”

  “Sure,” Yig said, admiring the fallen tree with pride.

  “Just tell us where the stolen money is,” Blū added. “From the people who’ve passed through here.”

  Bomar did not look confident. “We spent it all.”

  “On what!?” Yig yelled, offended.

  “Food... and maybe... some axes.”

  Blū didn’t believe him at first. But after following the bandits back to their base... it seemed to be true. So, a different deal was struck: a favor Blū or Yig could call in at any time. And a warning, in case the bandits thought of backing out.

  “I suppose you’re a hero after all,” Yig teased, grinning as they walked back to the temple.

  Blū sighed. Knowing Silver, that had probably been the plan all along.