The relieve squad, Village of Engel

  The 15th Vulcarian day, year 2025

  Marshal Justin didn’t have to report every move to the Baron, as his general strategy had already been approved. So, he personally selected the best scouts stationed in Ruthy – even though they were no longer from his squadron – and led five more men to form a new squad, leaving one man behind to serve as a contact point between the scouts and the squad. He would lead them himself; it would still be just a squad.

  The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a pale light over the scene. Despite his rushed preparations, the warmth of the day was creeping in. The front gate buzzed with activity – farmers guiding their oxen, merchants forming lines to enter the citadel, and a few groups of dungeon delvers already heading out for their early morning work. The barony had seen a steady increase in movement lately. More and more people from across the marquisate flowed toward the region, eager to profit from the new dungeon and the growing tide of visitors.

  “Sargeant Vigo, you’re to reach the village of Engel as quickly as possible. Scout the area for imminent danger and check in with Lieutenant James, if he is still alive. Immediately start tracking the renegades if they are no longer there.” Marshal Justin’s tone was firm, a leader accustomed to giving clear, concise orders. Vigo wasn’t exactly a scout, but a [Ranger] – a true survivalist. Once he was in the woods, he’d find the trail, and that would be it. No need for him to fall back until the job was done. He was suited for it – harsh environments or combat, he was no stranger to either, an specialist of guerilla warfare.

  “Tinara, you’re on the perimeter. South and west of Engel. Don’t let them slip past you. If they take any roads, be on them.” Marshal Justin’s gaze lingered on the [Cavalry Scout], a silent warning. Do not fail me.

  The scouts spurred their horses into action. The fast clacking of hooves against the earth announced their haste as they accelerated down the eastern road.

  “We march at an accelerated pace,” Marshal Justin’s voice rang out, commanding and sharp. “We’ll arrive before noon.”

  A low murmur rippled through the men, but no one questioned him. Horses weren’t easy to come by – expensive to buy, harder to maintain. Justin’s stallion, a strong and valuable mount, was in Vigo’s hands, while Tinara made do with one of the barony’s few military horses – heavily trained, but nowhere near as fast.

  The sun beat down hard on them, the men trudging through the heat in their heavy armor and worn leather boots. The pace was relentless, but they were used to it. The squad had been out in the field for so long that the town felt almost foreign to them. They longed for the open road, for the simple satisfaction of being needed out there, instead of cooped up in the town. They marched in silence, though the thought of their destination – a lost battlefield – made it hard to keep up the pace.

  The men were tired of the relentless march under the sun, but none of them said a word, and composure was of utmost importance on their arrival. Not long after noon, they reached Engel – Vigo already on duty in the pine woods, his trained eyes no doubt picking out every detail of the surrounding terrain. Lieutenant James was waiting for them, standing tall, his posture perfect. As the squad approached, he gave a sharp salute, his weapon angled against his chest in a symbolic gesture of loyalty and trust.

  “Marshal Justin, an honor to have you come personally for our aid,” James said, but his voice was tight, more formal than usual.

  “Lieutenant James,” Marshal Justin replied, his tone carrying a note of suspicion. “You have no idea how proud I am to see your settlement still standing after such grave news. Tell me, though – was the message that reached the barony last night an overreaction, or did you truly pull off the impossible here?”

  His skepticism was clear. As he looked around, the village seemed almost... normal. No fires, no signs of battle. His eyes narrowed, the anger in him building. Had he been deceived?

  “Neither of your assumptions, Marshal.” James clarified, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed a hint of the struggle he’d faced. “This very night, over fifty bandits marched to attack us. Their intent? Spread chaos, bloodshed. Sergeant Forrest found their tracks early, and we organized the militia – seventy-eight of us, ready to fight. The villagers stood bravely against them, and our vigilant Private Hober raised the alarm as soon as he saw the first signs of trouble on the horizon.”

  A tense silence lingered before James spoke again, his deliberate pause lending weight to the villagers’ bravery. “We were ready to engage, but their battle prowess was overwhelming. It was a young man – an outsider – who appeared at the right moment. He took down so many of them, so fast, that the bandits fled in retreat.”

  The tension hung in the air. Marshal Justin’s brows furrowed. His gaze flickered over James, then back to the horizon. “A young man...?” He let the question hang, the implication unspoken but clear. “Tell me more, Lieutenant. I want to hear about your losses, your conquests, and especially about this young man.”

  James led the way, boots crunching on the gravel, the scent of manure from the stables prickling their noses. They walked side by side, the lieutenant recounting everything – from the preparations made before the attack to the battle’s brutal outcome. His words were calm, but heavy – dead men, injured men, the stench of burned corpses over the fields. By the center of town, they passed the Chapel and Justin saw with his own eyes the sorrow that plagued the community – several families huddling together for comfort. Finally, they arrived at the battlefield.

  “Men, this makes our job as simple as it can be,” Justin commanded in a low, respectful voice. He looked at the pine woods ahead, calculating his odds of success. “We find the tracks left by Sargeant Vigo and give chase. Move!” Justin commanded.

  “Yes, sir!” His men sprang into action, opening a new trail in the soft grass between the road and the pine woods.

  James had once served as a sergeant under Justin, but he had left the road to give his wife and children a somewhat more stable life – so he accepted a good position in the rapidly growing Village of Engel, where his cousin Tommy lived. Though they were never personally close, Justin had never had reason to doubt James’ integrity – not then, and not now.

  With a calm and steady breath, Justin made up his mind. He had no time to waste. Even though the outcome of the bandit attack was better than he could have imagined, Engel still suffered important losses. As Marshal of the barony, the best interests of the entire region rested on his shoulders, and he couldn’t let this opportunity slip away. The baron’s deadline pressed on his mind like a noose tightening with every wasted moment.

  If he failed, it wouldn’t just be his reputation on the line – it would mean the loss of justice for Engel. His scout and a mysterious young man were ahead; they just had to catch up to them.

  Riverbank path, south of Engel

  The 15th Vulcarian day, year 2025

  A few hours earlier, Adrian had moved deeper into the woods. As a child, he had been a Boy Scout for a year but never advanced beyond the Tenderfoot rank. He could only remember the absolute basics of tracking, and after several minutes of finding nothing substantial, doubt crept in. His scouting skills alone weren’t enough – he needed sharper senses.

  He still had eight unspent attribute points and had planned to maintain a balanced build, optimal for soloing rather than min-maxing. Because of his class, Strength would always be an outlier, but he didn’t want to leave the other attributes at baseline. He allocated four points to Perception and two each to Intelligence and Magic, bringing them to 16, 15, and 16, respectively, including the Boundless Hero bonus modifier.

  As he approached the river where the bandits had crossed, Adrian realized investing the points hadn’t been as necessary as he initially thought – though the higher stats would still prove useful. The signs were impossible to miss: scattered footprints, displaced dirt, broken twigs, and damp earth. Crouching, he examined the boot sizes, snapped branches, and moisture in the soil, searching for patterns.

  Adrian could feel it – he was already more capable than in his past life. His mind made connections at a speed he was certain had been beyond him before. Intelligence felt like upgrading the hardware of his brain – more memory, more processing power, multiple cores. Perception, on the other hand, was like refining his software. With it, the world revealed more details, patterns emerged more clearly, and riddles that once seemed complex became obvious. The boost to both stats made it possible for him to memorize and compare boot sizes with a precision he knew he had never possessed before.

  He identified three possible routes. That aligned with what Sergeant Forrest had explained to him, which reassured him. He chose the path that followed the riverbank – a fallback plan in case he got lost, as the river would eventually lead to Dinoco. Both other routes also veered more to the west than south, and Adrian didn’t know how much wilderness would be between him and another settlement in that direction.

  Adrian took off running, pushing his Dexterity to its limits. He moved with precise control, weaving through the trail without disturbing it, leaping from stone to stone, adjusting his footing on soft and wet ground to avoid slipping. His Strength allowed him to cover several meters in a single bound, while his Endurance kept his body steady, his breath controlled, and his muscles unfazed by the relentless pace.

  The hunt had begun.

  Adrian wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this; it just felt right and gave him an immediate sense of purpose. So many things weighed on his mind that seeking danger helped him clear it. He could focus on learning through experience and trying to gain something from his efforts. Even though he had no evidence he would achieve either of these things, it was easier than endlessly searching his own mind for answers he didn’t have.

  After a few kilometers, he eventually emerged from the pine woods into the most idyllic landscape. A couple of small rivers meandered through a vast meadow of yellow flowers, and he was right in the middle of it all. Wildlife was abundant, with several deer drinking from the stream and hares hopping between bushes. The only sounds he could hear were the gentle flow of water through gravel and the whispers of the wind.

  The young man felt euphoric in the moment. He truly was in a wild world, playing the part of a hero and chasing bandits. He could have stayed in the village of Engel, relaxing and living a slow life – but nah. This was so much more fun. The risks of the adventure barely crossed his mind, and he let the adrenaline build inside him, propelling his body forward with excitement.

  The longer Adrian stayed on the chase, alternating between tracking and running, the more accustomed he became to his new body, new height, new strength, and new mind. After an hour of this, however, he began to feel the weight of the intense rhythm. I can probably go for another hour like this, but I can’t reach them feeling exhausted, he thought, immediately slowing to a regular walking pace.

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  The stream to his left was the one he had been following, and unfortunately, the bandits hadn’t moved far from it. The stream coming from the northwest merged with the one he was following further south, inside another wood – and Adrian guessed that Dinoco might be just beyond those woods. Still, he couldn’t risk being spotted. If the bandits were camping in those woods and keeping watch on the fields, he would surely be seen. So, he lowered himself and moved carefully, choosing the highest patches of grass and hastily making his way through them, even if it meant veering off their direct trail. A lone fox met his eyes, no more than 50 meters away, and fled the area, vanishing on the high bushes. “Beautiful,” he said to himself.

  The day was bright, and even in the shade of the dense oak woods, Rita felt uneasy – exposed. Most of the men were in deep sleep, including the dunner Torin, and she felt an urge to move, to leave them behind. But the Brotherhood had sworn loyalty among its members, and she feared the consequences of acting alone. She was, after all, their guide. Loyalty within the Brotherhood was as truthful as a bandit's honesty – a lie to the face. But a lie with consequences if you couldn’t handle them.

  They walked under twenty kilometers that night, and she knew that if the barony gave chase, they would be spotted. Rita kept glancing back at the trail they had left behind and forward at the open road they would eventually have to risk crossing to reach cover again. With the entire group, it would be dangerous. Alone? She bet she could do it.

  Still, rest was imperative. Nearly two weeks of sleeping under the open sky had worn her down, and her body ached for relief. The long marches had caused her burn wounds to reopen, and she could only hope to avoid infection. To prevent it, she had to keep her entire body covered in layers of fabric, even in the stifling summer heat. She had no choice but to endure it and wait, despite the risks.

  It was the beginning of the afternoon when Rita, exhausted and desperate for a moment of respite, closed her eyes after drinking some water and chewing on a few rations of dried meat and bitter nuts. She opened them again, startled – something felt wrong. The usual sounds of the forest had vanished. The birds were silent, and in the stillness, the heavy beating of wings filled the air as a large flock of birds flew away, their shadows sweeping across the ground. The rustling of leaves and underbrush echoed through the trees – too far to be a direct threat, yet far too loud to be anything normal.

  Her heart skipped a beat. She stood up immediately, her body tensing, her instincts screaming at her to move. Her eyes scanned the shadows of the trees; she could just make out the silhouettes of several animals rapidly advancing toward them, but she couldn’t tell what they were.

  ‘Boars? No... too quiet for that. Giant rats?’ The thought made her skin crawl.

  She wasn’t about to wait around to confirm. Her hands shook as she grabbed her bags, already planning her escape, and there was no time to waste – she shouted the alarm to the exhausted group, her voice sharp with urgency. “Monster attack!”

  Her mind raced with options. She could run straight out of the forest, but with the creatures on her tail, subtlety was out of the question. They were too close to Dinoco, and the chances of being recognized as fugitives were too high. Going back the way they’d come wasn’t an option either; the risk wasn’t just being spotted – it was being hunted down by whoever might be tracking them.

  Her best chance? The river. She would cross to the other side, stay in the woods there, and keep moving. But the river here was too wide, the current too strong. “Dammit!” Rita cursed under her breath. She’d have to backtrack – head to the beginning of the woods, where both streams were smaller and easier to cross.

  After a minute of running, Rita dared a glance over her shoulder. The giant rats had already reached the bandits. Panic surged through her as she watched the chaos unfold. The creatures were everywhere – more than thirty of them, hideous and nightmarish. Some had skin as rough as stone, others bristled with spines, and a few bore poisonous-looking horns curling menacingly. Among them, some had fur as bright as molten gold, moving with an unnatural speed that defied reason. The bandits fought back, but it was hopeless. Most were already overwhelmed, their screams cut short as the horde tore through them. Only a handful managed to break free and flee.

  Rita’s stomach twisted in dread. The sight of men falling one by one only deepened the urgency pounding in her chest. She needed to keep moving. The smartest and fastest of the bandits had followed her – after all, she was their guide. They knew she had a good head on her shoulders and an even better sense of direction. One of them, slower than the rest, was caught mid-sprint, dragged down by the creatures. At the very least, his death bought the others a few more precious seconds to escape.

  She had taken only her personal bag, abandoning most of the bandits’ shared loot. The fools following her, however, were too greedy to do the same. Their arms overflowed with stolen goods, slowing them down – fine by her. It only made it easier for her to put more distance between them.

  Meanwhile, after hours of relentless sun and stealthy travel, Adrian had reached the edge of the woods, cooling himself in the crisp waters of the clear stream. The afternoon sun was relentless, but the water provided brief relief. That was when he heard it – strange noises disrupting the silence of the forest. A few huffs, frantic panting, and then – a distant scream. He stilled, listening intently. The rhythmic clacking of claws, the rustling of underbrush, the unmistakable sounds of a battle unfolding.

  His gear, stained with blood, had been set aside for cleaning. That included his best-quality clothes and leather armor. However, a few items from his survival set remained untouched in his inventory. He had checked them before and was ready to use them.

  Cordovan Leather Gloves – Light-Absorbing Enchantment

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Condition: Excellent

  Price: 3 Auras, 6 Liras

  Description: Finely crafted gloves that absorb light, making them difficult to detect in the dark.

  State: Cabal

  Cloak of Umbral Angora Wool

  Rarity: Uncommon

  Condition: Excellent

  Price: 8 Auras, 4 Liras

  Description: Woven from the rare Umbral Angora wool, this cloak blends seamlessly into darkness, providing natural camouflage in low light.

  Adrian had only a minute to slip on his gloves, pull his cloak over himself, and take cover in the deep shadows beneath a massive tree. Moments later, a group of bandits came barreling straight toward the stream where he had just been. Desperation fueled their movements, but in their panic, none of them noticed him lurking in the darkness.

  There were six of them. Adrian weighed his options. He could strike now, mercilessly – or offer them the chance to surrender. Then his eyes landed on the first two men. He recognized one of them and Analysis revealed deep darkness in the other.

  The big brute from the night before stood before him. Torin. He had lost a hand, but the massive mace in his remaining grip still looked deadly. He was a level 24 [Dunner] with the title Renegade. Beside him was a slender man, his long arms and pale skin marking him as a foreigner. A level 18 [Assassin].

  Afraid of losing the opportunity, Adrian struck first.

  With a single step forward, he used Martial Versatility to adjust his position. The moment Aurora left its sheath, the air split with a sharp hum – one heartbeat later, Billy’s head hit the ground.

  For a moment, Adrian froze. The way the assassin’s corpse collapsed – the blood spraying, the sudden slackness – it hit him harder than he expected. His stomach twisted. His hand, still gripping Aurora, trembled once.

  Sensing an attack, he forced his body into motion and sliced the air with Aurora. The thief at his side stumbled, twisting unnaturally after activating Dodge. He collapsed onto his backside, clutching a deep gash but narrowly avoiding death.

  Torin roared. His voice boomed with mana, unleashing Intimidate – but Adrian had Indomitable Spirit. The fear didn’t even register this time.

  The brute’s mace came crashing down. Adrian ducked, dodging it with ease – except the weapon stopped mid-air, defying inertia. A sudden shift. A deadly feint. Crush activated, and the mace swung toward Adrian’s skull at full force.

  Too fast. Too close. Fear of imminent death crippled on Adrian. He had no choice. ‘Overload,’ he activated with a single thought, and power exploded inside him.

  It was not the strength he expected. Not just a boost – this was something beyond human limits. His muscles surged with explosive force. His skin tingled, his thoughts raced at unnatural speeds. Every detail sharpened – the movement of the shadows, the breath of his enemies, the weight of the air itself.

  Adrian had already been strong – ‘perhaps as strong as an Olympic gold medalist,’ he had guessed. But now? Five times that strength. Five times that endurance. Five times that dexterity, intelligence, perception, and magic.

  His body no longer felt like his own. It felt... limitless.

  Torin’s mace struck down. Adrian didn’t even flinch. He stopped it. With one hand.

  Aurora flashed, slicing clean through the steel mace – then through flesh. Torin barely had time to register what had happened before his body split in two.

  Adrian didn’t need to turn to know who was behind him – Joe the Anarchist and Gary the Vagabond. A single sweep of Aurora cut them down. Their bodies slammed into the ground like ragdolls.

  The thief was still alive – wounded on the ground, wheezing and clutching his chest. He was no threat. Adrian didn’t spare him a glance. He turned toward the last bandit, the one sprinting toward the stream. There was already a one-hundred-meter distance between them which Adrian closed in about three seconds. He was ready to cut off their escape when his Analysis skill activated.

  Name: Rita

  Titles: Renegade; Burned Hollow

  Species: Human

  Age: 17 years

  Class: Smuggler Lv. 12

  “She’s even younger than me,” Adrian muttered. ‘Not a fighter. Not an assassin like Billy. Not attacking him like the others – just a girl running for her life’ he thought; his mind racing as he slowed his pursuit, grip tightening around Aurora before hesitating. If he struck, he would kill her. Aurora didn’t allow mercy. Instead, he reached for his bow.

  As a smuggler, Rita’s first competency was Detect Threat, a magical third eye that worked as an alarm against danger. That was why she was the first to notice the giant rats. That was why she didn’t stop after passing Adrian; she hadn’t seen him, but she felt something there, an unnatural presence, and instinct alone made her widen the distance and push forward with even more speed. The others, however, weren’t as lucky. Burdened by stolen bags, the greedy bastards would at least buy her enough time to escape.

  Gary and Joe were decent enough – not exactly friends, but not enemies either. She didn’t want them dead, but she wouldn’t fight for them. That was the reality of it. Surviving meant running, and running meant not looking back. She focused on the stream ahead, searching for a narrower point where she could cross quickly. ‘If I just get to the other side and put enough distance, then maybe…’ her thoughts were abruptly interrupted.

  “Stop!” The voice cut through the hot air, sharp as a blade.

  Her body tensed, but her mind was still processing how he was already there. Not even thirty seconds had passed. She had been running at full speed, but when she turned, he was barely ten meters away, an arrow already nocked, drawn, aimed straight at her back. Her throat tightened. ‘Are they all dead already?’ she pondered, ruminating on the improbability of it.

  Despair crept in, cold and undeniable. Bandits were never taken alive, and she knew it. That was the rule. Bounty hunters had once made a fortune capturing them, selling them into slavery for high rewards, but the RBL and other criminal factions retaliated by butchering anyone who dared to buy a captured Renegade. That was how they crushed the bounty trade – how they made sure every bandit knew that capture meant death. In theory, there were two options: slavery or execution. But in reality, there was only one – specially for a hideous one like her.

  “Don’t make me shoot.” Adrian said, with a slow and controlled voice, looking her straight in the eyes.

  Water swirled around her ankles, cold and biting, as she hesitated. He was still keeping his distance, not rushing forward, not taking any chances. He didn’t know what kind of skills she had, and after what happened earlier, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

  Step by step, she walked back as he ordered, keeping her movements careful and measured. He guided her toward Will, maintaining at least ten meters between them. She couldn’t understand why so much caution from someone who had just easily defeated so many enemies, but she kept it to herself.

  Will was lying on the ground, bleeding and struggling to breathe. Kneeling beside him, she worked quickly, her hands steady as she bandaged his chest and secured the ropes around his wrists. The moment of quiet allowed her to glance at Adrian again. The exhaustion on his face was subtle, but it was there. He no longer held the bow, which had mysteriously vanished. His grip on the shining blade was firm, but his shoulders carried the weight of fatigue.

  The woods rustled, and both man and woman stilled. Adrian rapidly moved toward her, taking a momentary risk to tie her hands behind her back. She didn’t try to react, and he was glad for it.

  The noise from within the woods grew, and it wasn’t from the wind. It wasn’t from the trees settling. It was something else – a low sound, something moving just beyond their sight. Rita’s breath caught.

  Adrian knew the bandits were fleeing from something when he met them, even though he didn’t know exactly what. If they were being followed, Adrian’s state was a problem. He had prisoners – one half-dead, the other barely restrained – and he had drained himself with his own skill.

  Adrian exhaled sharply, shifting his stance. “Move,” he ordered.

  She didn’t hesitate, and both bandits moved forward, back to the village of Engel. He didn’t even consider looting the dead enemies. Survival came first.