The gloomy atmosphere of the cave was thick with tension. The lifeless bodies of Kaldor, Colin, and Darian lay sprawled on the cold stone floor.
Elara, traumatized, watched in silence, her hands trembling, while Bastiat stood as the last hope against the looming threat.
"So, you're really going through with this?" the bandit leader sneered. "Good. I hope you're better than your friend."
Swoosh!
They lunged at each other.
The fight erupted into a spectacle of dexterity and strength. Bastiat, wielding his dagger with masterful precision, moved with agility, searching for an opening in the leader's defenses. His movements were swift and fluid, each strike intended to inflict lethal damage.
Bastiat was more skilled than Colin had been, but the bandit leader remained a force to be reckoned with. His blows were precise, every movement calculated to maximize impact. Bastiat dodged skillfully, but the leader's relentless strength made it nearly impossible to counterattack effectively.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The confrontation became a deadly dance of blades, the two opponents weaving through a flurry of attacks and counterattacks.
He's not using mana to enhance his agility or focus his slashes, Bastiat realized amidst the exchange. He could have finished me off already if he wanted to. So why? Does he need to concentrate? If that's the case, I need to end this fast!
The bandit leader wasn't fighting for revenge. The deaths of his allies meant nothing to him—they were merely burdens lifted from his path. Bastiat, on the other hand, was fighting not just for his own survival, but for Elara, his only remaining ally—and his sister.
Clang! Bam!
The leader broke through Bastiat's guard and delivered a powerful arcing kick to his ribs, sending him skidding across the cave floor.
"Come on, kid! You can do better than that!" the leader taunted.
Gritting his teeth, Bastiat pressed a hand to his ribs and took a sharp breath. Pain flared through his side—at least a few ribs were probably broken.
Shit! If this keeps up, I'll lose!
Swoosh!
Summoning every ounce of strength left in him, Bastiat surged forward. The battle reached its climax as, with a sudden and precise maneuver, he struck the leader's sword at the handguard.
Clang!
The weapon flew from the bandit's grip.
Now—just cut his throat!
"It's still not enough!" the leader shouted, a broad grin stretching across his face.
Mana surged through his body, and for an instant, he was faster than his opponent.
Bam!
Before he could react, Bastiat felt a brutal impact against his stomach.
Time seemed to stop.
"You're too slow, kid!"
The leader unleashed a flurry of relentless blows—his fists hammering Bastiat's face, ribs, and abdomen in rapid succession. Blood splattered across the walls of the cave as Bastiat's body reeled under the onslaught. Above them, the leader's sword spun through the air, still whirling from when he had been disarmed.
"Not yet!" Bastiat growled, barely keeping one eye open. "I will avenge my friends!"
The leader raised his hand, his sword snapping back into his grip. In an instant, they clashed again, steel against steel, their movements fueled by desperation and fury. The cave trembled with the force of their strikes.
Elara, frozen in fear, watched with wide eyes, dreading the outcome.
Then it happened.
At the peak of the battle, the leader broke through Bastiat's defense.
Slash!
His sword carved a deep gash into Bastiat's shoulder, barely missing a vital artery near his heart.
Schtick!
I haven't lost yet. I can still do this!
Bastiat, wounded but not broken, summoned the last of his strength. With a desperate lunge, his dagger found an opening—plunging into the leader's chest.
But the strike was shallow.
The leader chuckled, his breath ragged but triumphant.
"Hehe… it's over, kid—"
Thunk!
[Image]
Bastiat fell, and the leader looked down, seeing a sword impaled through his abdomen. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Colin clinging to him.
"Des… grace…"
Colin was pale, his clothes soaked in blood, but his smile remained.
"You should have ripped my head off!"
Quickly, the false elf disentangled himself from the bandit leader, causing blood to spurt out.
Neither of them seemed capable of holding out for much longer.
"Bastiat!" Elara ran to him. Desperate, she gently cradled his head in her lap. "I-I'm going to heal you, just hold on!"
Before she could touch his face, he grabbed her wrist.
"Co… lin… heal Co… lin…"
She swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears.
"You damn cockroach…" the leader spat, his face growing paler as his wound continued to bleed. "From behind, huh?"
Colin was at his limit, his breathing heavy, but he carried himself as if he were still in complete control. He forced himself to move normally, despite the excruciating pain.
For him, the most important thing was to appear unfazed—to show that, even though he was bleeding like a slaughtered pig, a hole in his stomach wouldn't be enough to stop him. But deep down, he knew he only had a few seconds left.
"You're a bandit, and you're complaining about being attacked from behind?" Colin sneered, his blood-stained teeth flashing. "Come on, use your mana… let me guess, you can't, can you?"
The leader took a step back, his breathing growing labored.
Colin pointed his sword at him, blood still dripping from the wound.
"Let's finish this. I've had enough of this fight."
Swoosh!
Even at the risk of his guts spilling out or the pain making him pass out, Colin didn't hesitate. He charged at the leader as if all his injuries meant nothing.
Once again, they engaged in a fierce exchange of sword blows.
This time, the disadvantage was on the leader's side—he couldn't keep up with Colin's movements. He was struck by successive cuts, though he managed to prevent them from hitting vital spots.
That damned elf! Won't he die?
Then, his eyes landed on Colin's abdomen.
The wound… it closed?
His gaze shifted toward the cave entrance.
Elara stood there, gripping her broken staff, whispering a prayer, her eyes fixed on the fight.
That bitch! I have to kill that elf and force her to heal me!
Swish!
Colin slashed him deeper across the chest, and for a brief moment, their eyes met.
Colin's gaze was that of a ravenous beast staring down its helpless prey, while the bandit leader felt truly cornered for the first time.
That damned freak!
Shink! Shink! Shink!
With terrifying speed, Colin stabbed him three times in the abdomen.
Time seemed to freeze.
Am I… am I going to die? No! I refuse to die at the hands of someone who doesn't even know how to use magic!
Swish!
The leader's hand, still clutching the scimitar, was severed.
Shit! I'm going to die!
Shink!
Colin drove his sword into the leader's throat and, with a sudden motion, decapitated him.
The severed head hit the ground with a dull thud and rolled toward the cave entrance.
Gasping for breath, Colin staggered, nearly collapsing, but forced himself to stay upright. He walked unsteadily toward the entrance, where Bastiat lay, with Elara weeping over his body.
"I can't save him…" Elara sobbed, her voice hoarse with anguish. "I-I'm too weak… I don't have enough magic, damn it!"
Colin looked around the cave. Bloodied bodies lay scattered—dozens of bandits, along with the companions who had joined him just days ago.
"Elara, we have to go. Get the horses and carts. We'll take the gold and the bandits' heads to collect the reward."
She remained where she was, clinging to her brother's lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably.
"We should never have accepted this mission…" she lamented, her voice thick with remorse. "I knew it was too dangerous… It's my fault. I wasn't fast enough. I couldn't heal them…"
"Elara…"
"They were my family. We just wanted a chance at a better life… What's so wrong about that?"
Colin dragged himself toward the cave entrance, his hand pressed firmly against the wound in his abdomen. The surrounding loss barely stirred anything within him—after all, he hadn't formed any real bonds with any of them.
"I'll get the horses and carts…"
"Don't leave me here alone, please… We can't just abandon them. The animals will devour them and…"
"It's okay." Colin wrapped his arms around her, and she clung to him, sobbing into his chest. "Why don't you wait for me outside? I'll take care of your friends, get the gold, and then we'll leave, okay?"
With her face buried against him, she nodded.
"Okay…"
"Good. Now, let's get up."
They rose to their feet, and Colin guided her out of the cave.
"Wait for me here, alright?"
Wiping away her tears, she nodded once more.
Colin returned inside. He gathered the bodies of his fallen companions to one side and, with his dagger, methodically beheaded the bandits one by one. It was a gruesome act, but he felt nothing. No remorse, no hesitation.
All he knew was that he wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.
He dragged several crates to the entrance and filled them with gold. His thoughts drifted, wondering how much it was all worth and what he would do with it.
"Elara!" Colin called, and she approached cautiously, her gaze avoiding the bodies. "Feeling any better?"
"I… I don't know…"
"I need you to go to the village and buy a horse and a cart." Colin tossed a pouch of coins into her hands. "I'll stay here and keep watch over the gold."
"Okay…"
Just as she turned to leave, Colin spoke again.
"Elara, stay strong. We'll have time to mourn after we leave here with the gold. That's why your brother and his friends died—don't let it be in vain."
She swallowed hard, nodded, and walked away.
Colin sat on a pile of coins, reaching out to pick up the severed head of the bandit leader. He stared into the lifeless eyes, a faint smirk curling his lips.
"I got your money… and it looks like I won't have to split the reward with many people either. I don't know if that's good or bad, but I suppose I have you to thank for it."
After finishing his thought, Colin tossed the severed head aside, watching as it bounced against the cave floor before rolling to rest near the others.
"I'm still human, aren't I…?"