The Bandits Who Picked the Wrong Fight
“Really? You’re serious?”
I found myself blurting the question at the bandits, who simply blinked in confusion, clearly failing to grasp what I meant.
Well, it wasn’t surprising that a bandit or two might be lurking around. The road was the only path through the area, flanked by hills that offered perfect vantage points and dense undergrowth ideal for an ambush.
But bandits? Targeting us?
“…You seem too shocked to understand the situation. Can’t you see you’re completely surrounded?”
I could see it all too clearly. Among those holding bows and crossbows, only a couple were actually aiming properly; the rest merely mimicked the motion with sloppy form. The swordsmen’s blades were speckled with rust from poor maintenance.
Still, their casual confidence and the way they gripped their weapons suggested they had done this many times before. Their eyes carried a faint but unmistakable bloodlust—they had no qualms about killing.
Most of all, the way they openly leered at Aegina made my skin crawl.
“Pay a reasonable toll and you won’t have to suffer any unpleasantness.”
I wondered whether the words were sincere or a lie. Either way, with Rowell here, it would end with them subdued.
“How much would that be?”
“One gold coin per person should suffice. You look like you come from good families—you can afford that much, right?”
“If you don’t have money, other forms of payment are acceptable too!”
Crude laughter followed. It was all so painfully typical. I nearly sighed.
“……”
When I turned my head in silence, Rowell and Aegina were both looking at me, deciding who should step forward. I smiled at the bald man who appeared to be their leader.
“Three gold coins is quite expensive. Still, I’ll pay you even more than that.”
“What?”
I had meant it as a small provocation, but the remark was so unexpected that they simply stared, unable to process it. My sense of humor had always been terrible.
“…I meant we’ll spare your lives.”
I raised my right hand and gave the hand signal we had agreed upon during our travels—the one meaning the barrier was already deployed and I needed no protection. There might have been a more fitting signal for this situation, but it had been years since we last used them and my memory was hazy. This would do.
Rowell and Aegina launched themselves at the bandits. What followed was a vivid demonstration of why Aegina had earned the title Golden Flash.
A few, in panic, loosed arrows and bolts, but their aim was atrocious to begin with. Even if it hadn’t been, none of them could have hit Rowell or Aegina. The projectiles sailed harmlessly past, missing even me as I sat calmly on my horse.
“W-what the hell?!”
Several bandits charged without understanding their position, only to be knocked flat before they could even swing their swords.
Of course they couldn’t land so much as a scratch. Rowell was one thing, but Aegina’s raw strength in a direct confrontation was nearly on par with his or Bagloros’s.
Unless a dozen top-tier assassins attacked her simultaneously with poisoned weapons, aiming only to draw a single drop of blood, she would be in danger—but no such assassins were here, and Rowell stood beside her.
In roughly ten seconds—too brief for anyone to think or react—everything was over. The twenty-odd bandits lay sprawled on the ground or knelt with weapons discarded. Aegina smiled brightly, satisfied as she surveyed the scene.
“It feels good to move my body after so long. I was worried I’d gotten rusty lately.”
She really had grown a little stiff. Several of the men she had struck lay in pitiful heaps, evidence that her control had slipped.
“W-who the hell are you people?”
The bald leader had thrown down his sword and dropped to his knees the moment more than half his men fell in three seconds, sparing himself from Aegina’s fists or Rowell’s scabbard. He stared up at the scene in disbelief.
“You really don’t know?”
They had the worst luck imaginable. How did one even attempt banditry against the Hero?
“……?”
He blinked again, still lost. I extended a hand and pointed at Rowell, then Aegina in turn.
“Take a good look at that sword, that doll-like face, and the beautiful woman who just floored grown men with her bare hands. Don’t they ring any bells?”
He blinked twice more before his eyes widened and froze.
“…N-no way?”
His face drained of all color. The conscious bandits among the fallen lifted their heads in desperate disbelief, staring at Rowell and Aegina.
“Yes. Exactly what you’re thinking.”
A short silence fell.
“Hero, sir!”
“Please spare us!”
“We’ve committed a grave sin!”
Confessions, pleas, and wails of misfortune erupted all at once, deafening. If one chose to become a bandit, the least they could do was learn whom not to touch.
“So… what do we do now?”
Rowell looked at me, troubled. It was a genuine dilemma. In the past, when we dealt with thieves, we had been pressed for time and most encounters had been life-or-death struggles. This was different.
The gap in strength was so vast that showing mercy felt almost natural. The problem was that we couldn’t simply leave them here. Once they recovered in a few days, they would resume their crimes without question. They didn’t look like desperate men forced into banditry by hunger, nor did they seem innocent. Dealing with them permanently would have been simpler, but with Rowell and Aegina present, that wasn’t an option.
“We’ll hand them over to the nearest village’s guards.”
Both nodded. Short of summary execution, there was no other choice.
“Come on, everyone up!”
A few flinched at my shout but didn’t move. Ah, right—they were wondering who I was.
At my gesture, runes appeared in the air and Marak’s wolves materialized. The massive red wolves growled as they emerged, and the bandits finally scrambled to their feet in terror.
“Hey, you. Is this everyone in your group?”
“Y-yes!”
These types only listened once properly frightened.
“Then lead us to your hideout. Those who can still walk, help carry the unconscious and wounded.”
“Anak? Why the hideout…?”
Aegina looked at me, puzzled. She couldn’t understand why I wanted to go there when we already had all of them. Rowell, however, had guessed the reason from past experience.
“We need to collect whatever they’ve hoarded. That way we can return it to the victims—or at least put it to use for the village.”
Judging by the state of their weapons and their earlier attitudes, these men had been at this for a long time. There would be many victims, and likely some dead. Even without knowing the local laws, I could tell their punishment would be execution or something close to it.
“Don’t even think about running. These wolves have no mercy in their fangs. Even if you survive the bite, you’ll lose an arm or a leg and still be dragged to the village.”
Yet Rowell and Aegina still didn’t want to kill them outright. They disliked staining their hands with blood and always struggled to erase even the faintest possibility of redemption—the slim chance these men might turn over a new leaf.
So I would follow their wishes.
Even if the bandits were ultimately sentenced to death, they would at least live long enough to walk to the village, stand trial, and face execution. That small mercy wasn’t so bad.
Besides, the victims and their families would probably want to witness the punishment themselves.
“I-I don’t want to die!”
One of the men being helped to his feet suddenly shoved his supporter aside and bolted. He must have realized execution awaited him once handed to the guards—an unfortunate choice. The first to run had to be made an example.
Following my will, a wolf lunged and slammed the fleeing man to the ground, its jaws closing around his throat—
“Anak!”
At Rowell’s shout the wolf froze. Aegina had already appeared beside it, gripping its scruff. The man beneath it trembled violently, feeling the wolf’s drool on his skin.
“There’s no need for that.”
I nodded at Rowell’s words. How could I refuse those eyes? The conflicted expressions on the other bandits’ faces, however, were another matter. I deliberately had the wolves step back a little and spoke kindly.
“Feel free to try running. I’m curious whether the Hero and the Golden Flash can stop every single wolf.”
The color drained from the bandits’ faces; any lingering hesitation vanished. They had understood the sincerity in my voice and gaze—or perhaps they had simply noticed the wolves licking their chops.
The man pinned by the wolf scrambled back to the others on his own, and soon they were guiding us toward their hideout.
“Not bad.”
The hideout was surprisingly well-established. It had begun as a simple campsite, but the watchtower built among the trees suggested they had operated here for quite some time.
“Where’s the loot?”
Having grasped the mood, they moved quickly and retrieved two small chests from gaps between exposed tree roots. One was filled with coins; the other with necklaces, rings, and hair ornaments.
“……”
Blood still stained several pieces. Neither Rowell nor Aegina could hide their disgust.
“You’ve been busy.”
“P-please, just spare us. We’ll never—”
“Grr!”
“A-agh!”
At the wolf’s growl the man swallowed the rest of his pathetic lie.
“Save the excuses and pleas for when we reach the village. Now pick those up and follow. And don’t even think about slowing us down.”
They might not have noticed the wolves’ killing intent intensify, but Rowell and Aegina certainly had. Rowell stepped closer and gave my shoulder a light pat. Then Aegina’s gaze, which had been on me, suddenly shifted and locked onto something in the distance.
“Aegina?”
She didn’t answer. Instead she walked toward a cluster of trees at the far end of the clearing. The bandits’ eyes darted nervously. They exchanged glances, their faces now showing a different kind of fear and guilt. Convinced something was wrong, we followed her.
Sticking out of the dirt was a scrap of cloth—ordinary fabric, except for a name embroidered in red thread at one end. The dirt made it hard to read, but it looked like a name. Aegina reached out as if entranced and began brushing the soil away. Gradually the cloth’s true shape became clear.
It was clothing. A very young child’s clothing. And when we cleared more dirt, we realized it wasn’t just clothing that had been buried.