The county deputy looked at Clara and asked, “When do you plan to set out to capture the bandit leader?”

  If it were just about taking the head of the bandit chief, Clara could leave whenever. But as a commoner, she'd suffered enough at the hands of these marauders.

  “May I ask, sir,” she replied calmly, “are you only looking for the head of the leader, or do you intend to uproot the entire gang to eliminate future threats once and for all?”

  The assistant paused before responding. “If we were to eliminate them completely, what strategy would you propose?”

  “Strategy?” Clara gave a soft laugh. When she lifted her head again, her eyes were sharp and cold. “I have no clever strategy—only martial skill. I’ll crush them with force.”

  This time, she wouldn’t let them regroup. She would wipe out every last one of those bandits so that they wouldn’t be a looming threat again by the next New Year’s Eve.

  The deputy frowned. “Force alone? You are but one person—how do you propose to defeat them?”

  So many government soldiers had failed to take care of these elusive bandits, who moved like ghosts through the mountains. Even when they were spotted, it was only a small fraction of their force. Without taking down the leader, new bandits kept springing up like weeds. How could she possibly win?

  At the start of the year, the provincial military had been alerted—but since it wasn’t technically under their jurisdiction, and with the unclear politics between civil and military officials, nothing ever came of it. Unless the situation became truly dire, and public outrage hit a boiling point, the county had little real authority to act.

  As for the merchants who were robbed? When pressure on the authorities didn’t work, they simply allied with escort agencies—who themselves profited more when bandits thrived. Bandits meant more escorts hired, more business, and under-the-table agreements began to emerge.

  When all else failed, and the bandits grew increasingly brazen, the county decided to post a reward notice, hoping some skilled warrior would appear and resolve the matter.

  Yet strangely—perhaps deliberately—no one came to claim the bounty. The reward poster faded from sun and rain, replaced again and again, but remained untouched.

  Until this very morning, when Clara marched up and tore it down without a moment's hesitation.

  Now she stood before them declaring she’d end it all.

  The deputy’s heart stirred, though he kept a stern expression, wanting to test how credible her plan was.

  And what did she offer? “Crush them with force.”

  Just her?

  Clara let out a cold laugh, glancing around. There were five or six soldiers present, the rest likely guarding the city gates or dozing off in the empty jail cells.

  She raised her voice. “Is there not a single man in this entire county office with the courage to come with me and strike down those vile bandits?”

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  The soldiers frowned, offended by her implication but still unable to dismiss her entirely. One scoffed,

  “There are over a hundred of them. All our men combined only thirty-six. Without help from the provincial capital, it’s a fool’s errand.”

  Clara countered, “A hundred mob. What’s to fear? Capture the leader, and the rest will scatter. Your thirty-six men, fully armed and armored, can break them apart one by one. What’s so difficult about that?”

  That actually sounded… possible?

  But after some thought, one of the soldiers cautioned, “Their chief rarely appears. He’s always guarded by the Three Warlords. Getting close is almost impossible—how do you plan to take his head?”

  Clara held up the bounty notice. “Didn’t I just claim the bounty? I’ll take the lead. All you need to do is be ready to surround and finish off the rest when I give the signal.”

  She mentally reviewed her plan. “Once I succeed, I’ll fire a signal. When you see it, mobilize immediately. Together, we’ll wipe them out in one stroke.”

  With proper weapons and armor, each soldier could take on two opponents. No problem.

  What did the bandits have? Aside from a few leaders with decent horses and blades, the rest were outfitted with scrap—rusted metal, mismatched armor, or just farming tools like sickles and clubs. Once their morale was broken, they wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “You’d draw attention in large numbers,” Clara added. “The bandits would notice and flee into the mountains. That’s why I’ll go in first. Once their leader is down, you close the trap. We’ll root them out completely. What say you, sir?”

  She looked politely to the magistrate’s deputy.

  He hesitated, then stood and gestured to a nearby chair. “Have a seat. I’ll return shortly.”

  He was off to consult the magistrate. A newly posted outsider, only a year into his term with two more to go, the county magistrate had to weigh results against political safety.

  If they succeeded, he’d win accolades and public support.

  But disrupting the status quo would cut off many people's revenue streams. There were plenty of “local snakes” who wouldn't take kindly to that. They say even dragons don’t crush the snakes of a land—if he made enemies now, the next two years could be hell.

  If they just took the leader, that’d appease the public and keep things running smoothly for the local powers. Safer… and still something he could work with.

  Clara watched the deputy hurry off and chuckled to herself. “Interesting.” Then she sat down.

  The magistrate’s clerk followed him out, leaving only a few guards and Clara staring at each other across the great hall.

  They were conflicted. Each dreamed of being a hero, ridding the county of a plague, but feared dying for it.

  Clara waited patiently, completely calm. She was just a civilian—there was nothing to lose.

  If they didn’t act, she’d have some trouble, sure. But the entire county would suffer more.

  She waited a full hour before the deputy and the magistrate’s clerk returned.

  Clara rose, clasped her hands respectfully, and looked to them for an answer.

  The deputy spoke first. “What do you need? The magistrate has agreed—if you can truly capture the bandit chief, every soldier in the county will assist in eliminating the rest.”

  The clerk added, “If it’s going to happen, make it fast. If the bandits get wind of this, they’ll vanish into the mountains again—and we’ll never find them.”

  Clara raised a brow. She understood. The county was playing it safe—they’d only act if victory looked likely. No risk, all reward.

  And the clerk’s words carried another message: someone on the inside was leaking information. They had to move before the bandits were tipped off.

  Clara nodded, confirming once more, “If I bring back the bandit chief’s head—the reward is a hundred taels of silver, yes?”

  Both men nodded.

  Relieved, Clara unfurled the sketch of the bandit leader and studied it again. Fierce-looking fellow—but who knew if it matched the real face?

  She cautiously held up the image and asked the aide, “This likeness… is it accurate?”

  The clerk cleared his throat awkwardly. “Seventy percent resemblance, perhaps.”

  Truth was, no one had actually seen the man clearly. The sketch was based on descriptions from captured lackeys.

  Clara: “…”

  Fine. For a hundred taels, if needed, she’d chop off a few extra heads just to be sure. One of them had to be the right one.

  (End of Chapter)

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