A Hand-Woven Universe 136 135. Bandit Camp

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"It won't be long now." A thick southern accent sighed poignantly. One of the bandits sitting and drinking near the entrance to the camp. He gave a sidelong glance to his two companions who nodded to his words. In their minds, everyone was thinking of a better life to come.

They had been quiet for the past few months, keeping to themselves. This had all been for a reason.

"At least we will be out of here before the winter hits, nothing worse than winter." Another of the bandits spoke. It was the middle of summer at the moment, and while the days were hot, the nights were unbearably pleasant. It made any other time of year seem unfair in comparison.

The other two grumbled in agreement, sleep was threatening to take them, but they kept each other awake.

"Where are you going to go? Have you picked a town to escape to yet?" One of the bandits asked the oldest of the three. The oldest man smiled softly, his eyes cleared as he thought of his home.

"I want to head back to my family." He said. "I have a sister who has some kids… The only surviving members of my family name." He chuckled bitterly. "I'm probably going to give half of the gold to her. It's too much for one man to spend alone. I can live a fine enough life on half."

The other two chuckled, not everyone was as open-minded as this old man, but nevertheless they respected his decision.

"I'm sure they will be grateful, as long as you never reveal how we made it." One said. He had a bitter smile. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Aye." The old man sighed, a sadness could be seen in his eyes.

Suddenly the rapid patting of feet against earth entered their ears. At first the three men were startled, the pace of the steps and weight behind the sound led them to believe that they may have attracted the attention of a bear or a direwolf.

The three scrambled to attention, looking towards the sound. By the time they had risen to their feet, though, it was too late. Noone had covered the distance with as much speed as possible. Their plan relied on Noone making it into the encampment rather than the bandits rus.h.i.+ng out.

He never took his eyes off the three men as he approached – not even blinking while the wind whipped across his eyes. As soon as he saw the three bandits react to his presence, Noone's eyes narrowed. He compressed his divine sense and shot it forward like an arrow into the skull of the man closest to the entrance.

This wasn't the soft and gentle divine sense that Alaviv had taught him utilize, but instead was sharp and intense. The bandit had no way to defend against such an attack and immediately his body stiffened. His mind was thrashed and ravaged by Noone's divine sense as he sent it plunging in and out of the man's skull.

Noone hadn't realized it until this moment, but the feeling of forcefully inserting his divine sense into someone's mind only to shred it to pieces was uncomfortable… to say the least. However, his pace did not slow, he only frowned - persisting for the sake of Sarah and the promise of loot.


One of the bandits was preparing to yell out, drawing his short sword to defend himself from the giant human approaching them, however he was far too late. Noone was already on top of them.

Noone's axe swiftly chopped through one of the bandit's neck, cutting his head off cleanly – instantly removing his ability to call for help, among other things, among other vital functions.

The oldest bandit looked on in horror with wide eyes. He immediately prepared to attack with the other remaining man simultaneously, but when he looked over to the one who had been closest to the gate, he realized that he was already somehow incapacitated.

Noone's divine sense had caused the other man to go brain dead, sending him crumbling onto the floor, spasming uncontrollably. Despite knowing he was outmatched, the oldest man still poised himself to attack. His own sword was in his hands, and he jabbed it with all his strength and speed towards Noone's side. The blood of his recently decapitated companion showered them both, causing him to squint to avoid being blinded.

Noone's right hand flashed out. Using his divine sense, he had no reason to fear being blinded by the blood and he easily guided his weapon into the man's wrist, chopping his hand clean from his arm. The sword flung off into the gra.s.s – hand still attached.

Before the man could scream in pain, Noone's other axe followed close behind, crus.h.i.+ng the man's skull with a hard crack. From the time Noone had dashed out of the tree line until now, barely any time had pa.s.sed. Those still awake within the encampment had no idea that three of their own had just been killed.

Noone frowned, wiping the slick blood from his face. Until now he had only ever killed one "human..." An epoch tribesman who was after his own life.

This was the first time he had ever gone out of his way to initiate combat. Let alone a sneak attack against unsuspecting victims… Even if they were bandits. Noone sighed. Some part of him felt for them, but he ultimately put those thoughts aside. He wasn't going to justify his actions. Another person might say that because they were bandits it's okay. They deserved it. But Noone was not like this.

Noone's thoughts threatened to drift back to tapestry, but he quickly suppressed them.

"People die. That's just how it is." Noone sighed. Now was not the time to worry about where the lines of morality were.

Noone knelt down and easily hoisted the bodies of the recently deceased bandits onto his shoulders like a ton of logs. One hand was still holding his axe, while the other hand was free, his second axe back in its place.

"I sure hope Sarah's in position." Noone thought quietly as he walked in through the front gate.

The inside of the encampment was a gra.s.s-less pad of compacted soil – presumably turned this way after years of being tread upon. All around the edges of the encampment were small wooden buildings, sheds used to store food and weapons. Noone breathed a sigh of relief. One of the things he was worried about, was whether or not the rest of the bandits slept within the caves in the hillside or in bunkers outside.

If it was the latter, then chances were he would be swarmed by bandits as soon as the fighting started. But since it seemed to be the former – the plan would hopefully proceed without a hitch.

Noone's eyes casually swept the area.

A dozen bandits were sat around a fire, talking among themselves and lazily drifting into a drunken sleep.

These were the night-owls of the bandit camp. Noone knew that any second now one of them would notice him.

Noone did not slow down, instead he dropped the three corpses loudly against the compacted earth floor.

All at once, the men sitting around the fire looked over to see what the disturbance was.

Noone's hand quickly grasped the red bottle at his side, and he waited for them to react.

Maybe it was because it was late, or maybe it was because the bandits were slightly drunk, but it took them longer than he was expecting for them to finally come to their senses.

The dozen men stood, their jaws slack. To them, suddenly, apropos of nothing, they looked over to see a towering muscular figure, decorated with glowing white lines, standing in front of the corpses of three of their comrades.

The image caused their minds to churn to a momentary stop. There was no precedence for what was happening. The man standing there alone with their three dead friends as though challenging them. There was no backup or companions that they could see. There were no other sounds except the crackle of fire.

Just a lone man – a lone giant of a man – standing above the corpses of the three men who were watching the entrance.

"R- R- Raise the bell! The bell! Ring the bell!" One of the men finally shouted out. Everyone came to their senses all at once. The nimblest of the men quickly scrambled to a nearby pole with a rope hanging from it. He tugged on the rope violently, sending the sharp deep crack of a bell through the camp which Noone presumed would echo into the caverns. While he did this, the rest drew their weapons and began to stand shoulder to shoulder – facing the lone Noone.

Noone smiled. "Perfect." He thought.

"Who are you! Why are you here? Who are you with!?" The bandits yelled out. Noone continued to look at the group but he didn't respond. Even the smile he had on his face had slowly disappeared as he mentally prepared himself for the oncoming struggle.

When Noone didn't respond the men all looked at each other, trying to decide whether or not to make the next move.

If this man was alone… then it could only mean a few things. Either he was a fool, or he was confident in his strength. Or…

"Are you here to see Captain Jess?" One of the bandits probed. "I'm sorry if these three offended you. If you are here to see the captain, we can get her for you." If this man was an envoy of some sort, and the three men sent to keep watch offended him, then his reaction – while extreme – would be explained. It would also explain why he was alone. Or so the bandits thought warily.

A few moments pa.s.sed and Noone continued to stare at them. His eyes narrowed, causing the bandits to think their words had gotten through. However, Noone's right hand quickly tugged at the red bottle on his waist, and with a mighty throw, the bottle hurled through the air directly towards the group of bandits.

The throw had come too quickly, and the bottle moved too fast for any of the bandits to get a good look at it. They could only unceremoniously dive out of the way, attempting to avoid it.

As their bodies. .h.i.t the cold earth, the sound of breaking gla.s.s followed by the rush of wind sounded out in their ears. But before they could be surprised - they heard the screaming.

Noone had not been looking at the men this whole time, not really. From the moment that the bell was rung, Noone had not taken his eyes off of a large cave entrance on the opposite side of the camp. The bandits had only thought he was watching them, but in truth he was waiting.

Luckily Noone didn't have to wait long, and soon the silhouettes of more people began to fill the entrance of the cave, preparing to rush out into the open camp at the beck of the bell.

That's when Noone acted.

He threw the bottle with everything he had – using his divine sense to help guide his throw.
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The red bottle of liquid fire easily found it's mark. Just as the men were preparing to rush out into the open, the bottle exploded at their feet bathing the men in fire and causing a wall of flame to rise up blocking the entrance.

"Only ten." Noone lamented, quickly counting the number of bodies caught within the flame. Their horrified screams continued to echo out for a few more seconds before their lives were burnt out.

The men in the outer encampment looked on in horror. Their minds seemed to screech to a halt as they stared at the melting forms of their companions.

A horrifying smell began to waft through the camp. Even Noone – the cause of the fire – couldn't help but frown.

"At the very least if there was anyone who hadn't woken up by the bell – they will be up now." Noone thought silently.

Everyone could see that men were scrambling on the other side of the fire within the cave.

Ten minutes. Noone quickly reminded himself, and his feet stepped forwards. One of the bandits turned from the flame to look at Noone.

"Y- You!" But it was too late. Noone's axe was already upon him. The bandit's eyes went wide, and he tried to roll away but Noone was Too fast, and his axe crushed through the man's ribs and ruptured through his internal organs.

"One." Noone thought.

A Hand-Woven Universe 136 135. Bandit Camp

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A Hand-Woven Universe 136 135. Bandit Camp summary

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