A mont of stillness.
A quiet wind stirs the dust and rustles the bandits hair. They stare in stunned silence as the masked man calmly waits, hands above his tophat. He turns his head.
Hello? Can you hear ? Ive surrendered.
His voice carries to all those present, but all the [Bandits] do is give each other incredulous looks and a few murmurs of, What the fuck? Even Cirdel, who had been ready to unleash a swarm of arrows and then run as fast as he could, remains rooted in place.
Hm. I- Well The refined man looks across the stupefied n and won, and then up at Fiona and Jas, staring down into the pit from above. The undead are still as statues.
Every eye continues to stare at him.
The masked man looks at Butch. Butch, noticing the attention, lowers his head back down behind the rock and huddles. A cold sweat trickles down his brow. Ciridel can clearly see a constipated look upon the poor [Geophist]s face.
Cirdel doesn't understand it. Hes never seen Butch cower before, not once.
Cirdel ntally raises his evaluation of the danger from, Retreat! to Oh fuck!
You behind the boulder! Yes, you! Im your prisoner! I surrendered. Get out here already!
A shiver runs down his back. Nobody ever surrenders to them without a fight. Heck, to him, it looks like the masked man has the upper-hand with his instant take-over of Fiona's unde-
Cirdels minds stops as he processes the thought a bit more. This man single handedly just took over four undead and just made himself into an easy target by jumping into the pit.
What the hell kind of [Bandits] are you people? Stop staring at with your feet up your ass, and get so handcuffs already. Or tie up. Just get over here.
When still no one moves, the man sighs and drops his hands, disappointed. He digs his hand into his cloak and retrieves a sack. With a casual flick, he rips the pouch open and the contents spill across the ground. Crystals shimr and glitter in the sunlight.
See? Look at all my priceless shiny crystals! That's why youre here, right?
He asks casually. But Cirdel only watches as Fiona, Jas, and all the bandits take a step back at the sight of the crystals sparkling on the ground around him.
Now, lets try that again. He raises his hands again. I fucking surrender.
Cirdel watches Fiona and Jas share a look. A hard look of determination fills Fionas eyes, and she turns back to face the absolute buffoon who couldnt predict the obvious outco of his actions.
RETREAT! she screams. Her words, though not empowered with skill, startles her people into action. Every [Bandit] turns around and starts running away from the high-leveled maniac. Cirdel rely tightens his grip on his bow, fearing that escape wont be that simple.
His fears are borne out when the loony [Gentleman] drops his arms.
Oh co the fuck on! Don't run away! You're supposed to capture ! Take hostage, or sothing! Im your goddamn prisoner!
The masked man leaps into the air and lands on the edge of the pit. He sprints after the retreating [Bandits].
GET THE FUCK BACK HERE AND CAPTURE , YOU LITTLE SHITS! he roars.
His shout has the opposite of its intended effect. The [Bandits] activate all the skills they have to run faster.
The masked man, noticing their speed increase, slows down. He growls.
Fine. Fine! FINE!
Cirdel, quietly preparing his own escape, goes rigid as the ground trembles. Stones and boulders shake and roll as the dirt beneath the masked man bursts apart. A worm-like skeletal monstrosity rips through the ground and lifts the [Necromancer] twenty ters into the air.
But one is just the beginning. Four more worms tear through the stone walls of the passes, cutting off the paths of retreat.
All of the [Bandits] stop, terror mounting as the pale eyeless worms open their mouths to reveal thousands of mismatched, shark-like, serrated teeth.
Now then, the masked man's voice calls over the clamor of the blanching [Bandits].
I'm going to give you all a choice.
A nacing violet glow erges from deep within the worms throats.
Accept my surrender or die.
______________________________________
Its been a while since Cirdel was in a bar and listened to the [Bards]. The storytellers weave grand tales of monsters and magic, of horrors and heroes, romance and gossip. So long as their audience is entertained, theyll speak, sing, or dance about whatever may enrapture.
[Bards] are charismatic charlatans, liars and whores who sleep with anything that breathes, and so things that dont. Honestly, Cirdel cares little about the latter; its not his business unless its him. Lies, on the other hand, infuriate him. [Bard]s stories are fake stories ant to make you believe in the impossible, fables of Divers and rcenaries finding themselves in unbelievable situations and triumphing. Then reality teaches you that those dreams are rubbish.
At least, that was what he had believed. Now, as he stares at his Prisoner, he can't help but believe that so of the stories may have held a grain of truth. A tale of [Bandits] being threatened into accepting a superior foes surrender would make anyone laugh at its absurdity.
And the [Bard] telling the tale would have been derided by a teenage Cirdel.
What's both grim and funny is that the story has yet to end. The masked man who calls himself Bone is currently walking forward, hunched over, a rope binding his wrists connecting to the unfortunate [Bandit] that has to lead him. The nervous man is barely holding onto the rope, looking as though they are ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.
Are those things still below us? he asks Butch.
Butch nods. Its faint , but they are following.
Cirdel suppresses a groan. They are currently heading back to the main camp with the absurd number of crystals and the prisoner. The viciously ard prisoner with giant undead worms that burrow deep underground. Thankfully, Bone did not demand that they also take his companions as prisoners, so they have been left behind, completely untouched. No reason to bring ho another crazy soone with enough strength to kill them all.
Are you sure your mother will be able to keep us safe? Jas asks, interrupting the somber silence of the marching [Bandits].
Fiona glares at Jas, but the man doesn't back down.
Fiona sighs. Yes. Moms a [Death ArchKnight]. A [Necromancer] is no threat to her. She could probably take over his undead if she wants to.
Butch perks up. Oh. Isnt she the one who taught you magic?
Yes. Mom is an expert in that area. She taught everything and helped get my initial [Dark Witch] class.
Butch smirks. And now youre a [Death Princess].
Fiona rolls her eyes as Butch emphasises the Princess part of her class. Ever since her father beca king, her [Noble] class changed to [Princess] and then combined with her [Dark Mage] class when she hit level one hundred into the [Death Princess] class. Which, if Fiona is being honest, doesnt seem princessy at all.
She feels more like a weak [Necromancer] with leadership and minion empowernt skills. It's complicated, but clearly nowhere near as strong as whatever class Bone has. She suspects [Necromancer], or maybe even a [Grand Necromancer]. Shes not sure, nor does it seem like [Analyze] works on Bone. He seems to block it sohow, either with a skill or his enchanted clothes nobody was willing to remove.
Shut it, Cirdel interrupts, were getting close to ho. Lets just at least look like were transporting a prisoner instead of our jailer.
__________________________________
Whod have thunk that being a [Bandit] does not necessarily an youre a bandit. Granted, these [Bandits] do kill and steal, but its now clear to that they aren't unclean n who rape and pillage Hm. Maybe. No, I've co to realize that theyre a little like vikings. Mountain vikings. Just now, from entering their underground city? Caravan?Trailer Park? Im not sure how to describe it, but I was not expecting to hear cheering from mothers and children as Im led past their mobile hos.
Ive been robbed in a taphorical way rather than a real one. I was promised bandits! Where the fuck are they!?
I feel tension on my wrist and turn my head towards the [Bandit] who was supposed to be leading . Hes fallen behind. I pull on the rope and he picks up the pace so I dont have to drag his ass.
I shake my head.
How can they be so incompetent? How hard is it to transport a prisoner properly? They didn't even bother to remove my clothes, and the ropes on my wrists keep coming loose. Ive had to constantly tighten the damn things.
! The prisoner has to work to keep himself imprisoned!
This is stupid.
I feel cheated.
My day is ruined.
I release an audible groan and the [Bandit] drops the rope in panic at my noise. Realising his mistake, he leans down and fumbles three fucking tis before getting a good grip.
And by good, I an that hes barely even holding the damn thing. Like seriously, all I did was threaten their lives and then they act all scared and shit. Even the four elites are keeping a good distance behind .
Which is bad. Youre supposed to always be close to high value prisoners in case they attempt to escape. That way you can react fast enough.
I shake my head and continue walking at a slow pace, marveling at the huge number of people and the many coaches and carts turned into hos. It's quite amazing, especially since I can see that it would only take minutes to pack everything up and start traveling.
Eventually, we pass through what looks like a food market next to an underground lake. Carts filled with dirt line the path by the lake shore, each one sporting a weirdly colored fungus that is sohow able to survive underground without sunlight. I also see several animals that look like a long deer with razor sharp teeth and fish. Lots of fucking fish. Also [Fishern]. Lots of people are fishing in the lake.
Thats when I see it. One of those weird deer monsters shits out a smoking, bright green sludge. One of the people nearby scoops up the glowing poop and tosses it in with the mushrooms.
Okay! So they fish, feed fish to the weird carnivorous deer things, and then they throw poop on the fungus as manure.
Seems like it works for them, but its weird as fuck.
Hopefully they wont haunt like the Gejans shrooms.
_____________________
After another hour of walking, I am finally led to what looks like a better made underground camp with tents and closed off walls. Several carriages are connected and blocking a wall with a partial tent hanging from the ceiling.
Most of the [Bandits] disperse except for the leaders and the poor [Bandit] holding on to my ropes. He looks sad too, watching their brothers run away full speed.
I am led inside.
When I enter, I see the [Bandit King]. He sits on a boulder wearing regal robes (I dont think greys a good color for him) while his daughter sits on his lap.
My [King], I hear the [Elite Bandit Scout] exclaim, seizing the king's attention. The ambush was a, uh, complete success and, he looks at , we have a prisoner, he squeezes the words out.
A prisoner? the king repeats, an eyebrow rising.
With those words, I push mana through the unenchanted, cheap, poor quality rope holding . It frays, disintegrates, and falls to the ground. The [Bandit] holding my rope screams in fear before rushing out. At the sa ti, the daughter hops off the king's lap and in a fluid mont, lets two long chains drop out from her sleeves. I sense a powerful aura of death emanate from her petite form.
The chains twirls around the boulder, herself, and the [Bandit king] in a defensive way.
Hm?
With a quick blink, I pull-up the girl's status.
Misty Deadstone
Level 217 [Death Archknight]
Misty Deadstone was born and has lived most of her life in the mountain passes between the borderlands and the kingdoms of the Aesir. The product of a broken ho and life among clans of [Bandits], her childhood was hard and laborious. After gaining the [Dark Mage] class from a class crystal, she grew to beco an exceptionally powerful mber of the clans, but refused any and all leadership positions offered to her.
When she first t the [Mountain Bandit] Raul, a foreigner, she disliked him imdiately. Her feelings were reciprocated. Over the next several years, through difficulties and hardships, the two nded their relationship and it blossod into a romance, through which they had a single daughter. As they raised her and raided through the mountain passes, they learned of a great danger which threatened to destroy them and all the clans of the mountains: The [Heroes] of the Aesir.
The [Bandit] clans concocted a plan to counteract the [Heroes]: To unite, and beat back the great threat. Misty would have joined as well, had not [Mountain Bandit Lord] Raul stopped her. Instead, with her might, she brought the other clans beneath the now [Mountain Bandit King] Raul, who decided the wisest course of action was to evade the [Heroes] and wait for them to leave. This plan, considered cowardly by so, succeeded very well.
Misty is the strongest mber of Rauls kingdom. Though unable to gain the [Queen] class since she is not a noble, she is treated as one by the general population.
Ah, right, that's his wife, not daughter. Damn this world and the stupid vitality stat making people look so freaking young. For all I know, she could be several hundred years old.
Still, it doesn't matter. Ive co prepared and I have more levels.
Before things can turn violent, I grab my hat and quickly do a most majestic bow.
Allow to introduce myself. I begin releasing my own aura which counters, but does not overpower the woman's. I am Bone, a leader of n, monsters, and I co bearing an ultimatum.
With a ntal order, the [Corrosive Boneworms] rise up from below, causing the cavern to rumble.
Surrender your kingdom or die.
My shadow stretches out behind .
I watch carefully as Mistys muscles tense. Her own mana pumps to her chains, strengthening them for imdiate usage. I also feel her mana reach out, as though to claim my undead.
And finally, the [King] stands, a serene smile on his face. He looks back to face his people, then turns to look in the eyes. Indiscernible emotions seem to fill his sockets.
Its all yours. Have fun.
What?
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