It has grown quiet.

  Warm sunlight filters through more freely now, reaching us in gentle waves. The forest has thinned, and for some time we’ve already left the elven woods behind. It feels good to see a different landscape again. I welcome every clearing, every open stretch of land.

  My tree quota is filled for the next several years.

  I should probably register Leana as an adventurer at a guild branch in the next larger town. That way, we can officially take on quests as a party. I’m curious what rank she’ll earn.

  Leguria is still far away. Too far. I’d really like to see my half-hour master again—show him my progress and finally ask for his name.

  As we ride on in silence beneath the midday sun, lost in our own thoughts, our journey is interrupted rather rudely.

  “Well now, what do we have here? Fresh meat!”

  A foul-smelling but muscular man blocks our path, his face twisted into a greasy grin.

  “We were just getting bored with those bloodless village girls. You came at just the right time!”

  He casually balances a halberd on his shoulder, clearly trying to look intimidating.

  I can’t take him seriously.

  He looks like a pubescent bully from a schoolyard.

  From the bushes and undergrowth, I sense at least ten more presences focused on us. An ambush. That must be the source of his confidence.

  We’ve dealt with plenty of bandits on the way to the elven forest. I’ve lost count, honestly.

  But these?

  These are the first ones who step directly into the road and spout stupid threats straight out of a bargain-bin fantasy novel.

  It’s glorious.

  Until now, bandits attacked from ambush, laid traps, used terrain properly—competent, dangerous, realistic.

  I had already given up hope on cliché fantasy villains.

  And now here he is.

  A bandit who stands in the middle of the road, drops his guard, and monologues.

  My fantasy heart soars.

  Rin and Leana seem equally stunned—each in her own way. They stand frozen, staring at the man in disbelief.

  Naturally, he interprets the silence incorrectly.

  “Hahaha! Looks like I’ve scared the sweethearts speechless!”

  He leers.

  “Don’t worry—we’ll be very gentle with you. Your boyfriend, though? He’ll have to die. The Ultra Legendary Deadly Rogues will take good care of you. You’ll forget that pathetic runt soon enough!”

  My soul curls in on itself.

  That name is painfully embarrassing.

  And he said it with such conviction.

  We need to end this farce before he says anything worse.

  Leana has recovered from her shock. The moment he called me a “runt,” she visibly flinched and raised her bow.

  Outwardly, she’s as stoic as ever.

  But I can see it.

  She’s furious.

  Rin, meanwhile, seems lost in thought.

  “Lord Arik,” Leana asks calmly, her icy eyes never leaving the man,

  “may I grant this revolting cockroach a slow, painful, and fitting death?”

  Her voice is controlled.

  Her rage is not.

  That kind of cold fury is genuinely terrifying.

  I have no objections.

  We can clean up the others afterward.

  Then Rin whispers,

  “Arik… something about these bandits is wrong.”

  “You don’t say,” I whisper back. “That guy’s clearly missing a few screws.”

  She shakes her head.

  “That’s not what I mean. There’s a strong, unsettling magical presence around him—one that definitely isn’t his own. These people are dangerous. And I don’t want to abandon the women they’ve captured.”

  Her expression hardens.

  “We shouldn’t rush this. I can’t gauge their true strength yet. And if we kill them immediately, we don’t know what will happen to the prisoners.”

  I nod.

  When it comes to magic, Rin’s judgment is absolute.

  “What’s your plan?” I ask quietly.

  “We play along. Gather information,” she says after a moment.

  “If they’re really as stupid as they look, they’ll take us straight to their camp. Then we can help the women.

  If they’re only pretending, we won’t walk into a trap blindly—and we can choose a better moment to strike.”

  I nod again.

  “I trust you. But if they try anything with you two, I won’t hold back. How are you even going to include me in this act?”

  Rin smiles beautifully.

  “It won’t come to that. Don’t underestimate Leana and me. There’s only one person we’d ever let get away with something like that.”

  She pauses—then smirks.

  “And as for your role… I’ll simply borrow the strategy you used to get us into the elven village.”

  That settles it.

  She turns to the bandit.

  “Well?” he calls out smugly. “Done whispering? Realized you’re trapped? Surrender nicely, yeah?”

  What kind of villain patiently waits for his victims to hold a strategy meeting?

  If this stupidity is an act, I’ll personally nominate him for an Oscar.

  Rin suddenly bursts into tears.

  “Please, don’t!” she sobs.

  “We’ll do anything you want—even… unspeakable things. Just don’t hurt our beloved! He can work for you! Please… have mercy!”

  And just like that, Best Actress is decided.

  Now let’s see if the bait works.

  “Hehehe! That’s more like it!”

  The man grins smugly.

  “Tremble before me and do as I say, and your lover lives! Disobey—and he dies!”

  Congratulations.

  From this moment on, he shall be known as The Fox.

  A clever fox luring helpless rabbits into his den.

  Unfortunately for him, he misjudged the rabbits.

  The rest of the gang emerges, disarms us, binds our hands. With a signal, we send the spiders fleeing into the forest to wait.

  Honestly, that’s for the bandits’ own safety.

  Ares wouldn’t restrain himself for long.

  Neither would Leana, judging by the thin line of anger in her expression.

  We’re marched toward their camp amid vulgar comments and obscene stares.

  I hope Rin gets her answers soon.

  Leana’s patience is wearing thin.

  So is mine.

  The bandit camp holds around thirty-five more men.

  They cheer loudly at our arrival.

  Between them are several women—bruised, shackled, their clothes reduced to rags. Some stare emptily into the distance. Others still have fire in their eyes, watching for a chance.

  “Boss, you brought us something tasty!”

  “After you’re done, I’m next!”

  “What about the boy? New recruit?”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The Fox raises a hand.

  “Easy! I go first. We’ll draw lots after. As for the brat—he’s leverage. He’ll do the dirty work. Make him regret being born!”

  A textbook villain speech.

  Applause.

  The camp settles. I’m locked in a hut with some of the women, forced to clean and do chores under guard.

  While working, I whisper promises to free them.

  They believe me.

  Hope is stubborn like that.

  We agree to regroup at night.

  Then a guard barks,

  “Hey, trash! Grab the broom and sweep the road!”

  His friend laughs.

  “Bj?rn, you genius! Sweeping dirt—that’s cruel!”

  I take the broom calmly.

  Then stop.

  “Move, idiot!”

  They approach. One draws his sword.

  Two meters.

  One meter.

  Now.

  The broom whistles through the air.

  Both men collapse, skulls crushed.

  …So that happened.

  I turn to the women.

  “That’s the signal. Find the others. Hide in the forest. I’ll cause a distraction.”

  One nods shakily.

  “Your friends are with the boss. Big tent in the center.”

  “Thanks.”

  I step outside.

  Broom in hand.

  At the same time, inside the large tent at the center of the camp—

  The interior of the tent is dim, lit only by a few smoking torches that cast long, distorted shadows across the canvas walls. The smell of sweat, old alcohol, and unwashed bodies hangs thick in the air.

  The bandit leader leans back on a pile of furs, his grin slow and deliberate, savoring the moment.

  “Heh heh heh! You two little darlings wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to your precious man, now would you?”

  The bandit leader grins obscenely, his eyes crawling over both women.

  “Be good girls and start taking your clothes off. Slowly.”

  Rin stiffens for half a heartbeat.

  Then her shoulders slump.

  Tears well up in her eyes, thick and immediate, rolling down her cheeks as she clasps her hands together.

  “P-Please… don’t hurt him,” she sobs. “We’ll do anything you ask. Even… even the unspeakable things. Just… just leave him alive. He can work for you. Please… have mercy.”

  Her voice shakes perfectly—too perfectly.

  The bandit leader’s grin widens, smug and delighted.

  “Hah! That’s more like it. Tremble, beg, do whatever I say, and your little lover might survive.”

  He laughs, pleased with himself.

  “But if you disobey even once, there’ll be nothing left of him to save.”

  From the corner of her eye, Rin watches him carefully.

  The man is enjoying this far too much.

  A fool.

  A confident fool.

  And confident fools always talk.

  She sniffles, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, lowering her gaze submissively.

  “Y-You’re… incredible,” she murmurs. “I’ve never felt power like yours before. It’s terrifying. We don’t stand a chance against someone like you…”

  The bandit leader straightens, chest puffing out.

  “Oh? You can feel that?”

  His grin turns predatory.

  “Sharp little thing, aren’t you?”

  She offers him a timid smile, slowly letting her robe slide off one shoulder.

  “I wouldn’t know where such an overwhelming magical presence could possibly come from,” she says softly. “I’m just a helpless girl…”

  Her movements are deliberate. Controlled.

  Every second buys time.

  The bandit leader swallows.

  “You’re clever,” he says, voice thick with pride.

  “Clever enough to realize resistance is pointless. The Demon King Balaam’s power flows through this camp.”

  He gestures lazily at the shadows flickering along the tent walls.

  “His shadows hide within my own—and within the shadows of five of my best men. They strengthen us. Watch us. Protect us.”

  He laughs.

  “All we had to do was promise to ambush the hero’s group.”

  His gaze sharpens.

  “But when I saw you three brats, I knew those shadows were overreacting. Kids like you? You’re no threat to my gang.”

  He snaps his fingers impatiently.

  “Now hurry it up. The other one too. Take your boots off. Slowly.”

  Leana meets Rin’s gaze for a brief instant.

  Then, expression completely flat, she bends down and begins unfastening her boots.

  “What legs…” the bandit leader mutters, transfixed.

  “And that look. Cold. Perfect. Slower. Take them off slower.”

  He doesn’t notice Rin’s lips curve ever so slightly.

  She leans closer, voice syrupy sweet.

  “But we’re so far from the Demon King’s lands,” she whispers.

  “Are you sure you’re not just… showing off in front of a few foolish little girls?”

  The bandit leader scoffs.

  “Showing off? Don’t be ridiculous!”

  He leans forward, eager to boast.

  “The Demon King’s finest scouts are right here in this camp. His shadows watch through us, listen through us.”

  He grins.

  “For this deal, we were told to wait for the hero.”

  Then his expression darkens.

  “But honestly? When I saw you, I figured I’d enjoy myself first. Kids like you aren’t worth worrying about.”

  He takes another step toward them.

  “Now strip alrea—”

  A distant scream cuts him off.

  Then another.

  Shouting. Metal clashing. Panic.

  “What the hell?” he snarls, spinning toward the tent entrance.

  “What’s going on out there? They know better than to disturb me right now!”

  The noise grows louder. Closer.

  “Catch that bastard!”

  “He’s got no real weapon!”

  “Surround him already!”

  The bandit leader pales.

  Before he can say another word, the tent flap bursts open.

  A young man steps inside.

  He’s drenched in blood.

  Not just splattered—soaked.

  In his hands, he’s holding a broom.

  The broom is even bloodier than he is.

  He looks around the tent, eyes wide with relief.

  “…Are you two okay?” he asks, voice strained.

  “I couldn’t wait any longer. I was worried sick.”

  For a long moment, no one speaks.

  Rin stares at him.

  Then she exhales, shaking her head slowly.

  “They gave him a stick,” she mutters in disbelief.

  Leana nods gravely.

  “Handing Lord Arik a broom,” she says calmly,

  “was an extremely poor decision.”

  The relief hits me like a physical blow.

  Rin is unharmed.

  Leana is unharmed.

  I don’t care anymore that I just bulldozed straight through Rin’s plan like a drunken ogre. Plans can be repaired. People can’t.

  The bandit leader—the fox, as I’ve mentally named him—stares at me like his brain has stopped updating reality.

  Rin is the first to move.

  “It’s fine,” she says gently, stepping closer to me. “Calm down. You don’t have to worry about us anymore.”

  She glances at the man.

  “I’ve already learned everything I needed to know.”

  Her tone changes. Sharper now.

  “Watch his shadow.”

  The fox blinks. “W-What are you—”

  “In it,” Rin continues calmly, “is a scout of the Demon King Balaam. There should be five more like it scattered throughout the camp. Shadows aren’t frontline fighters—they’re observers. Spies. But once revealed…”

  She smiles faintly.

  “…they become very manageable.”

  The fox’s mouth opens and closes. No sound comes out.

  Goldfish. Definitely a goldfish.

  “Leana,” Rin adds, not even looking away from him, “could you put your boots back on and retrieve our equipment? It’s in the yellow tent to the right. I received the location from a very cooperative source.”

  Leana nods once.

  “Understood.”

  She steps past the fox without sparing him a glance and disappears through the tent flap.

  From outside, dull thuds and very final screams follow.

  So much for a clear path.

  I swallow.

  I’ll pretend that’s just… warm-up exercises.

  “Rin,” I murmur, tightening my grip on the broom, “what’s the next step?”

  She closes her eyes.

  “Give me a moment. Don’t let him out of your sight.”

  And just like that, she’s gone—mentally speaking.

  No hesitation. No dramatic gestures. She trusts me enough to turn her back on a potential enemy.

  …That trust hits harder than any blade ever could.

  The fox stumbles backward.

  “H-Hey—listen—we can talk about this—!”

  His shadow moves.

  Not with him.

  The torchlight in the tent flickers, though there’s no wind. The darkness beneath his feet thickens, writhing like spilled ink.

  I tense.

  “Rin,” I hiss. “Now would be—”

  Too late.

  The shadow peels itself off the ground.

  It stretches upward, humanoid but wrong—its outline constantly shifting, edges blurring, as if reality itself refuses to commit to its shape.

  A voice whispers from everywhere and nowhere.

  “We cannot proceed further.”

  My skin crawls.

  “Our mission would have succeeded,” the voice continues, detached and almost bored,

  “if the human did not act on impulse and base instinct. There is no stable mind to control.”

  …Ouch. Rude.

  The shadow tilts toward Rin.

  “Nevertheless, delay may still prove sufficient. She is already en route. She will complete the mission.”

  I don’t hesitate.

  I charge.

  Yes. With a broom.

  I swing it with everything I have, aiming straight through the shadow’s core.

  The broom passes through like smoke.

  No resistance. No effect.

  “Fantastic,” I mutter. “Absolutely fantastic.”

  The shadow ignores me completely and lunges for Rin.

  Panic spikes.

  I plant my feet and swing again, harder, faster, uselessly.

  “Rin!”

  “That’s enough.”

  Her eyes snap open.

  Light explodes from her outstretched palm—pure, blinding radiance that tears through the tent like a miniature sun.

  The shadow shrieks.

  Not loudly—but deeply, as if the sound comes from beneath the world itself.

  The black mass convulses, unravels, and dissolves into nothingness.

  Silence crashes down.

  Rin exhales slowly.

  “Shadows are deceptive,” she says matter-of-factly. “Not especially durable. Light magic disrupts their structure almost instantly once they’re exposed.”

  She looks at me.

  “Physical attacks, unless magically reinforced, are completely useless against them.”

  Then she pauses.

  “…That said.”

  A small smile tugs at her lips.

  “Watching you charge a shadow with a broom was incredibly knightly. And very sweet.”

  She tilts her head.

  “Especially since you were trying to protect me.”

  My face burns.

  I clear my throat violently.

  “Y-Yes. Well. Tactical intimidation.”

  She snorts.

  “There is, however, one loose end left.”

  Her gaze slides past me.

  I turn.

  The fox is still standing. Still breathing. Still processing.

  Big mistake.

  I move before my brain catches up.

  One step. Two.

  The broom comes down.

  Hard.

  The fox never even raises his arms.

  When I stop, what’s left of him is… everywhere.

  Rin stares at the mess. Slowly. Then she looks at me.

  “…You overdid it.”

  “I may have been slightly upset,” I admit.

  Also:

  Her robe is completely ruined.

  “…Outside is quieter,” I say quickly. “Let’s check on Leana. And the others.”

  I slip past her and out of the tent before she can say anything else.

  Outside, the camp is quiet.

  Not the peaceful kind of quiet.

  The kind that comes after something irreversible has happened.

  Bodies lie scattered between overturned crates and torn tents. Weapons are embedded in the ground—or in places they were never meant to be. The fire pits still burn, crackling softly, indifferent to the carnage around them.

  And in the middle of it all stands Leana.

  She is smiling.

  Not broadly. Not wildly.

  Just… content.

  “It wasn’t much of a fight,” she says calmly as I approach. “I had hoped for something more challenging. But it was adequate to loosen up.”

  Loosen up.

  I glance at the ground. Then at the trees. Then very deliberately not at the number of bandits who will never move again.

  “…Right,” I manage.

  Training.

  Of course.

  The women we freed are scattered around the edge of the camp. Some are crying openly now that the danger has passed. Others sit in stunned silence, staring at nothing. A few cling to each other like shipwreck survivors, afraid that if they let go, the world will take them back.

  One woman retches violently near a tent.

  I look away.

  This world doesn’t soften just because you want it to.

  Leana notices my gaze and straightens slightly. Her expression loses a bit of its brightness.

  “They are safe now,” she says. “But I understand. Victory does not erase what they endured.”

  That… surprises me.

  Rin joins us, wiping dried blood from her sleeve with a resigned sigh.

  “The shadows withdrew the moment their scout was destroyed,” she reports. “I felt them sever the link. Whatever pact these bandits had—it’s broken.”

  She looks around the camp.

  “They won’t be coming back.”

  That finally seems to sink in for the women.

  One by one, they start to breathe again.

  Later, as dusk settles in, they insist on cooking.

  We protest. Weakly. Half-heartedly.

  They ignore us.

  “This is ours,” one of them says, hands shaking as she chops vegetables. “Let us do this.”

  So we let them.

  The meal is simple but generous—venison, boar, duck, vegetables scavenged from the bandits’ stores. The women laugh too loudly. Cry too suddenly. Sit too close to one another.

  Healing is not graceful.

  We eat in silence, giving them space.

  Eventually, Rin, Leana, and I retreat to one of the few tents left standing.

  The sounds outside—laughter, sobbing, murmured conversations—bleed softly through the fabric.

  I lie back and stare at the ceiling.

  “We should go to Hatsuria,” Rin says suddenly.

  I blink. “Why?”

  She turns toward me, her amber eyes catching the firelight even in the dark.

  “Do you remember what the shadow said?”

  “Honestly?” I admit. “I was more focused on how it said it. That voice was nightmare fuel.”

  She exhales quietly.

  “It mentioned someone else. Likely a woman. On her way. Sent to finish the mission.”

  I feel a chill crawl up my spine.

  “To kill us?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  No hesitation.

  Rin continues, thoughtful now. Analytical.

  “The Demon King is closer than we assumed. His agents are operating within human territories, gathering information, preparing ambushes. He wants us gone before we become a real threat.”

  She pauses.

  “And we were careless today.”

  Leana shifts beside me.

  “I saw it too,” she adds softly. “Shadows emerging from several bandits. Right when the scream came from the central tent.”

  Rin nods.

  “That confirms it. The shadows retreated once exposed. They’ll keep watching—but alone, they can’t do much.”

  Her lips curve into a sly smile.

  “So let’s make things harder for our pursuer.”

  I groan. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Our current route suggests we’d head north or east,” she explains. “If she’s intelligent, she’ll assume we’re going to the Bluefang Mountains. Which means—”

  “We don’t,” I finish.

  “Exactly.”

  She looks pleased.

  “We go south. To Hatsuria. Let her waste time wondering why the hero would willingly walk into a den of merchants and slavers.”

  I hesitate.

  Then I glance at her.

  At the faint warmth in her expression.

  …Is she doing this for me?

  The thought makes my chest tighten.

  “Then it’s settled,” I say quietly. “We ride south.”

  Outside, the women laugh again.

  It’s a fragile sound. But it’s real.

  For tonight, at least, they’re free.

  And tomorrow—

  Tomorrow, we move on.