The Runesmith

Chapter 453: Unwilling Savior.

“What do you want? Stay back!”

“I don’t think we will… Now, how about you make this easy for everyone and just come with us…”

A large group of rough-looking individuals was surrounding a carriage. Two armored men were standing before the door to this carriage, their swords drawn and ready to defend whoever was inside. On top another two could be seen, holding longbows and ready to fire. Inside the carriage sat a young lady, her face filled with tears and an expression of uncertainty. She clutched onto a pendant around her neck while her body trembled.

The group that looked like bandits spread out to let a person through. He was a burly-looking man with a scar running down his left cheek, wearing ragged clothing that indicated a life of hardship. He had a menacing aura about him as he approached the guards, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Seems like we've stumbled upon quite a little treasure, haven't we?”

The man’s voice was gruff and filled with malice as he eyed the guards who were defending the carriage. Though he couldn't see the girl within, her weak sobbing echoed from inside. The guards tightened their grip on their swords and were ready to spring into action if necessary.

“You won’t get away with this! We’ll defend the young lady with our lives.”

“Strong words for soon-to-be-dead men, but how about we make a deal? We just want her and what’s inside, nothing more. All of you can leave, so don’t be stupid, I’m sure you have families that rely on you… Just walk away, and no one will ever know."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances, knowing that they were outnumbered and outmatched. The bandits had them surrounded, and their leader seemed confident in his ability to take what he wanted by force. However, numbers alone didn't dictate the outcome of a battle, and upon closer inspection, the bandits didn't appear particularly strong or even healthy. Retreating now would also have severe consequences. Failing to fulfill their task could potentially make them into wanted men and they would have to flee the entire region.

“I will repeat again, stay back! We will not bargain with bandits!”

The guard speaking was older than the other three and wearing a more defined piece of armor. His voice was firm and it didn’t let a smidge of fear through that was slowly bubbling up. The man was determined to protect the young lady, even if it meant facing these bandits head-on.

“Stubborn fool, kill them all!”

The bandit leader smirked widely at the response as if he didn’t care. With one swift motion, he drew his sword which was a damaged blade coated in something more than just rust. The other bandits knew that the moment the blade was pointed forward it was time to charge forward. However, right before the man could finish his motion an arrow flew. It flew in a swift arc and connected with one of the other men’s forehead, killing him instantly.

“Shit… Get them!”

The bandits were taken aback by the sudden attack, their leader cursing under his breath as chaos ensued. The guards seized the opportunity, charging forward to engage the bandits in combat. Swords clashed, arrows flew, and the sounds of battle echoed through the air as both sides fought.

Their leader remained at the back, his frown deepening as he observed the standoff. Despite their overwhelming numbers—over thirty men—they couldn't close in on the opposition. On the other side, there were only four guards and a coachman armed with a peculiar crossbow. It was evident that his men were outmatched and outgunned. However, he wasn't deterred, knowing there was one trump card up his sleeve. He turned to the side, where a lone figure clad in a black robe awaited, and called out to him.

“Sir, I think we will be needing your help…”

“...”

The man clicked his tongue in annoyance as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him. The bandit leader's call for assistance was met with silence from the figure in the black robe. He stood there, unmoving at first but eventually stepped forward. Though his body was concealed to some extent by the robe, a long blade was visible on his left side. It differed from regular longswords, with a slight curve and a distinctive eastern hilt, a katana.

“Fine, but remember, this will cost you extra…”

Once this man stepped forward, the other bandits spread out to the sides. His presence commanded attention and emanated a strange aura. The guards near the center of this chaotic battle reacted almost instantly. The two archers, along with the coachman, launched projectiles in his direction - two arrows and a bolt from a crossbow. However, to their surprise the man didn’t seem to perturbed.

His right hand moved with uncanny swiftness as he drew the katana from its sheath in a single fluid motion. To the people watching, his hand movement seemed like a blur. A faint clang of metal resounded through the air as the arrows and bolt were sent flying off course. This display of skill left the guards in awe and instantly identified their foe to be above them.

“A tier 3 master…”

“You should have taken the deal when it was offered. Now, all of you will have to die…”

The man stepped forward with the bandits behind him grinning. The four guards were already out of breath and knew that it wouldn’t be possible for them to defeat this one person, his tier was above theirs. “Why are you doing this? If you want money then I’m sure we could work something out!”

The guard leader shouted out while trying not to panic. The man in the dark robe moved at a slow pace as if he had no care in the world. It was evident that he had no intention of making a deal and their target was the person within the carriage. His words seemed soft and his voice nonchalant as he replied.

“Please don’t hold a grudge in the afterlife, this is just business…”

The guard leader gritted his teeth, realizing that negotiation was futile. He raised his sword in defiance and prepared himself to defend the lady behind him. The other guards followed suit while the bandits watched from outside. It was clear that the smaller group was outmatched and that they would die here. However, just when it seemed that all hope was lost, a sudden gust of wind swept through the area.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to come out so close to the ground!”

The burst of wind was accompanied by a strange noise and someone shouting. All eyes turned upward to witness an unexpected disturbance. Descending rapidly from above was a figure clad in a darkened robe, with gleaming armor visible underneath. The voice that echoed belonged unmistakably to a man. To his right side, a large tower shield could be seen, which he seemed to be trying to position under his feet for some reason.

Closing in at a rapid pace, the descending figure startled the bandits surrounding the carriage, causing them to jump aside in fright. Much to their surprise, he skillfully positioned his feet on the large shield that then shone with strange glowing symbols they didn't understand. Once his feet were there, his descent was slowed but he still kept rocketing in their direction.

As the figure drew closer to the ground, the shield beneath him emitted a burst of energy. It somehow cushioned his landing and sent out shockwaves that knocked back the bandits surrounding the carriage. With a resounding thud, the figure touched down with his robe fluttering in the wind in an imposing fashion.

The bandits along with the guards were stunned by the unexpected entrance. This robed man landed right between the carriage and the approaching hooded swordsman. The man looked at this new arrival and halted his advance as he could feel that this person was not as trivial as the rest.

“Who the hell are you?!”

The bandit leader who had called for the tier 3 class holder shouted. This was certainly not something they expected, an unforeseen variable had arrived. The figure in the darkened robe slowly straightened up and glanced around. He ignored the bandit's question, and began to survey the scene. The group of guards was just as perplexed as the bandits. They realized that he was not allied with them either and prompted the bandit leader to shout out again.

“Sir… we can’t leave any witnesses!”

“...”

Without waiting for the robed man’s explanation, the swordsman stepped forward. His hand blurred once again and as his sword left its sheath, it strangely elongated in the direction of the man that dropped from the sky. The intention was clear - they were unwilling to let a third party intervene in their affairs. However, just as the sword strike was about to collide with the man’s body it bounced back, deflected by a translucent magical barrier.

At this very moment, everyone knew that this person was at least a tier 3 class holder. It was impossible for anything below that level to defend against such a lightning-fast strike. None among them possessed the capability to perceive the swordsman's movements. They were swift and produced bursts of strong winds each time the blade was unsheathed.

After the tier 3 master recognised that he was up against a powerful mage, the man swiftly closed the distance as he followed the basic knowledge of preventing a mage from chanting. Fortunately, the mage had landed within his range, leaving no opportunity for escape. The previous elongated strike transformed into a flurry of slices, unleashed at an astonishing pace.

As the flurry of strikes descended upon him, the robed figure remained remarkably composed. He expertly dodged and parried the attacks with seemingly effortless grace, his movements fluid and precise. Each strike was met with a counter, as he utilized his magical shield to deflect the incoming blows. The bandits watched in astonishment as the two figures engaged in a high-speed duel that their eyes could barely follow.

Finally, a grand attack followed as the man with the sword gripped it with both his hands. It was obvious that he was aiming for a large attack but before he could initiate it, the robed mage jumped upwards and soared into the air. There he hovered out of range before an explosion of magical energy shocked everyone.

“S-sir?”

“Shut up…”

Even though no one here had any mana sense, they could see a thick haze of energy surrounding the elevated figure. The spell took shape way too quickly with seemingly no chanting taking place. Hundreds of magical orbs appeared out of thin air and surrounded the whole area.

In a matter of seconds, they were everywhere, and as a rain of stars, they descended onto this battlefield. The robed figure didn’t move but somehow was able to manipulate these magical projectiles which were just as fast as the swordsman’s strikes. The bandits didn’t know what hit them, as their limbs became riddled with holes.

“Argh, w-what is this…”

The bandit leader didn’t even have enough time to tell his men to dodge before he was struck by the marble-sized projectile. One of them cleanly pierced through his right shoulder while another one connected with his foot. He went down to the ground instantly while his body received a barrage of magical projectiles. The other bandits suffered a similar fate, their bodies punctured by the relentless assault of magical orbs. Some tried to flee, but they were swiftly overtaken by the relentless rain of magical attacks.

Meanwhile, the guards and the young lady watched in awe as the robed figure controlled the magical onslaught with precision and skill. They were completely unscathed, the magical orbs that seemed countless were somehow precisely avoiding them. Some zipped past their heads but never connected with their bodies, as if the man had full control of their trajectories.

In a matter of moments, the large group of bandits was no more. All were suffering from puncture wounds and groaning down on the ground with only one person remaining, the swordsman. He found himself running to the side while being chased by a mass of magical projectiles. Even though he had been successful of deflecting most of them, some had already connected with his body.

“T-this wasn’t part of the deal!”

The man was fleeing for his life, his earlier confidence was now replaced with fear and a drive to survive. The robed figure remained suspended in the air, his gaze fixed on the retreating swordsman. He stretched out his hand in his direction and suddenly another mass of magical projectiles started to appear. They converged in the direction of the running man and quickly blocked his path of escape.

As the swordmaster stumbled to a halt in an attempt to prevent himself from going any further, the mage clenched his hand into a fist. Instantly, the mass of glowing orbs descended upon the man who tried to escape. What had begun as a rain of magical projectiles transformed into an avalanche of energy beyond the man's comprehension. Despite deploying all of his defensive skills, he was unable to deflect and dodge all of them. A groan escaped his lips as his body became riddled with holes, unable to withstand the onslaught.

The robed figure remained suspended in the air, his intentions shrouded in mystery. It was impossible to discern his thoughts. Only after the tier 3 swordsman fell to the ground in defeat did the orbs of energy dissipate. They transformed from condensed marbles into tiny magical bubbles and evaporated as if they had never existed in the first place.

For a moment the place was silent but soon broken by the screams of the bandits. It seemed that for some reason the mage had left them alive and mostly aimed for their limbs. The group by the carriage stared in disbelief at the scene before them, unable to comprehend the sheer power and skill displayed by the floating mage.

Slowly, the robed figure descended to the ground, his movements quite graceful. As he approached the carriage, the guards tensed, unsure of his intentions. However, to their surprise, he simply stopped a few paces before their leader and asked a simple question.“Could you tell me where I am, this is Dragnis Island, correct?”

It was a strange question to ask but the guard leader quickly responded out of fear of angering such a powerful magician.

“Y-yes it is Sir. Mage, we are on Dragnis Island.”

“Good… what’s the closest city, town, or settlement from here?”

“Ah… that would be the city of Aldbourne, Sir.”

The man tried his best to be respectful but without knowing who the man was, he could only give them the bare minimum of respect. It seemed the man was trying to hide his identity and his face was covered by some kind of metal mask.

“I see…”

The man replied but his gaze was fixed into the distance, as if drawn by something unseen. After a brief moment of silence, to the guard's surprise, something peculiar unfolded. From afar, the rhythmic echoes of hooves sounded, their numbers clearly large. After turning his gaze in that direction, he recognized a familiar sight. It was a band of mercenaries he had seen before, ones that were on their side.

It didn’t take long for this large group of mercenaries to approach the scene. The guard leader breathed a sigh of relief at their arrival, knowing that they would provide much-needed assistance and support. Even though this mage was quite strong, this group could not be taken lightly. They were stronger than a group of bandits and one tier 3 class holder.

“What’s going on here?”

Their leader, a rugged man with a stern expression, while on horseback approached the guards and the mysterious robed figure. He eyed the mage cautiously with eyes that were filled with suspicion.

******

‘What are these people trying to pull?’

Roland looked at the guard who stepped forward to explain the situation. He had managed to travel through the dimensional gate to his desired location. While this was not the place he wanted to be, it wasn’t that far from Albrook.

His arrival was interrupted by a seeming attempt on a young girl's life. She didn’t seem to be a noble but some type of rich individual, most likely a daughter of some kind of merchant. Normally, he would have disposed of the bandits along with their protector but things weren’t so clear cut this time around.

‘Something isn’t adding up here and I’m also in Theodore’s territory. What did I get myself into this time around…’

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