"Well, well," came a gravelly voice from behind us, and my heart stopped. "What do we have here?"
Lisa and I spun around to find a sixth bandit—one we hadn't accounted for—standing just a few paces away with a crossbow trained directly on us.
"Looks like we've got ourselves some young lovers out for a romantic stroll," he called out to his companions. "Question is—do we kill them quick, or do we have ourselves a bit of fun first?"
My muscles tensed instinctively.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to assess our options, when I felt Lisa's small hand squeeze mine—a gesture meant to stay calm.
The attack came without warning.
The bandit's fist connected with my cheek like a sledgehammer, the impact sending stars exploding across my vision as I crashed to the forest floor. The taste of copper filled my mouth, and the world spun sickeningly around me. My ears rang, and through the haze of pain, I could hear Lisa crying out my name.
"Harold!"
I tried to push myself up, my hands scrabbling against the damp earth and fallen leaves, but my head felt like it was filled with cotton. Through my blurred vision, I could see Lisa struggling against one of the bandits who had grabbed her arm, her dark hair whipping around her face as she fought. But then she went perfectly still.
The man's crossbow was aimed directly on my chest.
Ah... fuck.
Here I was, supposedly getting stronger, training harder, pushing this young body to its limits—and yet when it mattered most, I had hit the dirt within seconds. All the power in the world was useless without the experience to wield it effectively.
When I had been James. I'd fought and even killed sometimes for my survival. But that felt like centuries ago now, those hard-earned instincts dulled by months of peaceful living in this new life. I'd grown soft, complacent.
"Tie him up," the crossbow-wielding man ordered, never taking his eyes off me.
One of his men—a lanky fellow with yellowed teeth and breath that reeked of cheap ale—moved toward me with rough hemp rope. But his attention kept drifting to Lisa, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"Damn, Boss," he said, his voice thick with lust as he roughly grabbed my arms. "Never seen such a beauty for a good long while. Look at that skin—smooth as silk. And those eyes..." He let out a low whistle of appreciation.
"Never seen one like her in my whole miserable life," Another bandit chimed in, this one shorter and stockier, with scars crisscrossing his forearms. "She's got that noble look about her, don't she? All clean and proper-like."
The rope bit into my wrists as they bound my hands behind the rough bark of an ancient pine tree. I could feel the sap sticky against my back.
"Hey Boss," the scarred one continued, rubbing his hands together eagerly, "we can enjoy her, right? " He made a crude gesture across his throat.
"Course we're gonna enjoy her," the lanky one agreed, his grin revealing more gaps than teeth. "Hell, I never had a taste of such a beauty. This might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, eh Arlos?"
So the leader's name was Arlos.
As they finished securing me to the tree, I caught my first clear look at their leader. Arlos appeared to be in his mid-twenties, with unkempt brown hair that hung past his shoulders and a patchy beard that spoke of poor hygiene and poorer character. He'd been sitting casually on a fallen log, cleaning his fingernails with a wicked-looking dagger, but when his eyes fell on Lisa, his entire demeanor changed.
He rose slowly, like a predator who had just spotted wounded prey, and began walking toward her.
"So young," he murmured, his voice taking on an almost gentle quality that was somehow more terrifying than outright threats. "And so ripe already."
Lisa tried to pull away, but the bandit holding her tightened his grip, forcing her to stand still as Arlos approached. When he reached out to cup her face in his grimy hands, she turned away, trying to keep her eyes on me instead of meeting his gaze.
"Look at me, sweetheart," Arlos ordered, his fingers pressing into her cheeks as he forced her head around. "Don't be shy now."
Lisa's blue eyes blazed with disgust, but I could see the fear lurking beneath her anger. She was trying to be brave, trying not to give them the satisfaction of seeing her terror, but her hands were trembling.
Arlos studied her face like a connoisseur examining a fine piece of art, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone in a mockery of tenderness. Then he leaned closer, his lips parting slightly as if he intended to kiss her.
The rage that had been building in my chest finally exploded.
"H—Hey, fucker!" I called out.
The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I saw all five bandits freeze. Arlos turned slowly, his hand dropping from Lisa's face as he fixed me.
He walked back toward me.
"W—Wait!" Lisa called out but he ignored her.
When he reached me, he crouched down until we were at eye level, close enough that I could smell the sour wine on his breath and see the cruel intelligence glittering in his dark eyes.
His gaze traveled over my features—my hair, my eyes, the cut of my clothes…
"Check his pockets," Arlos said without looking away from me. "See if he's carrying anything valuable. Could be he's some noble brat slumming with the common folk."
The lanky bandit rifled through my clothes with rough hands, but came up empty. "Nah, Boss," he reported. "Doesn't look like nobility to me. His clothes are decent enough, but they're more like what a merchant's son might wear. Same with the girl—nice enough, but nothing fancy."
Arlos nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving mine. There was something calculating in his expression, as if he was trying to solve a puzzle.
"So then, boy," he said conversationally, "who exactly are you, and what brings you and your pretty little girlfriend out into these dangerous woods all alone?"
He never got to finish his question.
I'd been gathering saliva and blood in my mouth while he spoke, and now I spat the mixture directly into his face with as much force as I could muster. The bloody spittle hit him square between the eyes, running down his nose and into his beard.
"Don't you dare lay your filthy hands on her," I snarled, breathing hard from the effort and the pain radiating through my jaw.
For a heartbeat, nobody moved. The other bandits stood frozen, clearly shocked by my audacity. Even Lisa stared at me with wide eyes.
Arlos slowly wiped the blood and spit from his face with the back of his hand, his expression unreadable. Then his lips began to curve upward in a smile that held no warmth whatsoever.
"You know what, boy?" He said calmly, a deadly calm that was somehow more frightening than any shout could have been. "You've got some real guts for a brat who looks like he just finished suckling at his mama's teat."
"You're just filthy kidnappers," I spat. I nodded toward their cart with deliberate intent. "Working for your real masters, aren't you? Those sacks... they're not filled with grain."
Arlos's eyes flickered toward the cart for just a moment—barely a glance, but enough to confirm my suspicions.
He licked his lips slowly, like a snake tasting the air, then rose to his full height.
"Well then, since you're so observant," he said, taking a step toward Lisa, "I think it's time I gave you something more immediate to worry about." His smile was razor-sharp. "I'm going to violate your pretty little girlfriend right here, right now, while you watch."
Something shifted inside me at those words—something dangerous that I hadn't felt since my days as James. My expression must have changed dramatically, because even Arlos paused for a moment, his smile faltering slightly as he met my gaze.
The look I gave him was colder than winter steel, colder than death itself. It was the look of a man who had killed before and would kill again without hesitation. For a brief moment, the mask of this young, inexperienced body fell away, and something far older and more dangerous looked out through my eyes.
"Then," Arlos continued, though his voice had lost some of its earlier confidence, "you'll get to watch as my men take their turns with her. One by one. All night long."
He turned toward Lisa.
"Pin her down," he ordered his men, shrugging off his stained leather jacket and letting it fall to the forest floor. "I'll taste her first, then you can all have your fun."
"Leave me alone!" Lisa cried out, struggling fiercely as two of the bandits grabbed her arms. But they were stronger, and soon they had forced her down onto the damp earth, pressing her shoulders against the ground while she thrashed beneath them.
Arlos knelt beside her, his face twisted in sick anticipation. "We're going to use you until dawn breaks, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "And no matter how much you beg, no matter how much you cry, we won't stop. Not until we've had our fill."
"N—No! Stop! Please!" Lisa's voice broke as tears began streaming down her face.
That's when I felt it—the familiar warmth that should have flowed through my veins, the power that had become as natural as breathing. I clenched my fists, reaching for the fire magic that had never failed me before, but nothing happened. The energy was there, I could sense it burning within me, but it couldn't break free.
What?
I looked down at the ropes binding my wrists and realized with growing horror that they weren't ordinary hemp. Thin metallic threads were woven throughout the fibers, glinting dully in the fading light. Magic-suppressing bonds—expensive, rare, and devastatingly effective.
"Pin her down properly," Arlos barked at his men as Lisa continued to struggle. "Hold her still while I get these clothes off her."
The sound of tearing fabric filled the air as he began ripping away her leather armor, revealing the simple white tunic beneath. Lisa's terrified sobs grew louder, more desperate.
"H...Hal..." She choked out through her tears, turning her head to look at me with eyes full of anguish.
Something inside me snapped.
The rage that erupted from my chest was unlike anything I'd ever experienced—not just anger, but a fundamental rejection of reality itself. The very idea that I might fail her, that I might be forced to watch while these animals destroyed everything pure and good in my new life, was absolutely unacceptable.
"Rgghhhhaaa!" The roar that tore from my throat echoed through the forest like the cry of some beast, reverberating off the trees and seeming to shake the very air around us.
I stomped my feet against the ground, channeling every ounce of magic I possessed into a single, desperate attempt to break free. My muscles strained against the ropes until I thought they might tear, and I gritted my teeth so hard the sound was audible even over my own screaming.
"Come on!" I bellowed, pulling against my bonds with superhuman strength born of desperation. "COME ON!"
But the magic-suppressing ropes held firm, absorbing and dissipating every surge of power I threw at them.
"Ahaha, look at him, Arlos!" One of the bandits called out, pointing at me with obvious amusement. "Little lordling's having himself a tantrum!"
I bit down hard on my own tongue, tasting blood, and poured every fiber of my being into one final, desperate cry.
"RAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
CRACK!
The sound was like thunder splitting the sky. Behind me, the massive pine tree I was bound to began to splinter, hairline fractures racing up its trunk like lightning. The cracks spread with impossible speed, the ancient wood groaning and creaking under some unseen pressure.
"What the hell?!" One of the bandits gasped, stumbling backward as chunks of bark began raining down around us.
"RAAAHHHHHHH!" I continued screaming, my voice growing stronger rather than weaker, veins bulging on my forehead as my face flushed crimson with effort. The very air around me seemed to shimmer with barely contained energy.
"Kill him!" Arlos shouted, panic finally creeping into his voice. "Kill him now!"
The crossbow-wielding bandit raised his weapon with shaking hands, the bolt gleaming wickedly as he took aim at my chest. But his hands were trembling so badly he could barely hold the weapon steady.
"N—No!" Lisa cried out, managing to wrench one arm free from her captors' grip. But they quickly seized her again, holding her even more tightly than before.
The bandit's finger tightened on the trigger, and the bolt flew straight and true toward my heart.
It struck something invisible three feet in front of me and shattered like glass, the fragments falling harmlessly to the forest floor with a series of soft tinks.
Arlos's eyes went wide with disbelief and growing terror. He drew his sword—a well-maintained blade that gleamed with its own magical enhancement—and charged toward me.
"Die, you freak!" He snarled, thrusting the enchanted steel directly toward my stomach.
The blade punched through my flesh with a searing burst of agony, magical fire racing along its edge to cauterize and burn even as it cut. I grunted in pain, tasting blood, but I didn't stop screaming. If anything, the pain only fueled my rage further.
The tree behind me gave one final, tremendous CRACK and exploded outward in a shower of splinters and debris. Chunks of wood the size of a man's fist went flying in all directions, while a cloud of sawdust and pulverized bark billowed up to obscure the entire clearing.
Through the chaos and confusion, I stood up slowly, one hand pressed against the bleeding wound in my stomach. The magic-suppressing ropes lay in tatters around my feet, their metallic threads overloaded and burned out by the sheer force of power I'd channeled through them.
Golden light began to emanate from my palm as I called upon healing magic, the warm energy flowing into the wound and beginning to knit torn flesh back together. It would take time to fully heal, but at least the bleeding was slowing.
Through the settling dust, I could see the bandits stumbling around in confusion, coughing and trying to clear their vision. All except one.
"Die!" The crossbow-wielding bandit emerged from the cloud of debris behind me, swinging his weapon like a club. But before it could connect, a torrent of water erupted from the ground between us.
The water moved with unnatural precision, first blocking his strike, then coiling around his arm like a living serpent. Within seconds, it had engulfed his entire body in a writhing cocoon of liquid death.
His eyes bulged with terror as he realized what was happening, his mouth opening in a silent scream as the water forced its way down his throat and into his lungs. He clawed desperately at the surface of his aquatic prison, but his fingers passed harmlessly through the magical construct.
In less than a minute, he went limp, his lifeless body floating within the sphere of water before it collapsed and deposited him on the forest floor with a wet thud.
I stepped over his corpse without a second glance, my attention focused entirely on the remaining threats. Including Arlos, there were still four of these animals left to deal with.