The prince’s carriage rolled into the cover of the mountains where the bandits had settled. As they approached, he could see some of them discreetly taking positions outside while others were within the mine, keeping themselves hidden.
When one of the bandits recognized the prince, he immediately went into the mine to fetch Borag and Twicher, their leaders.
Aric hopped off the driver’s seat, where he had been sitting alongside Lerai. He walked back toward the carriage and swung open the door.
He then turned to one of the nearby bandits and called for him to approach.
The man, seeing Aric’s gesture, rushed toward him.
"Yes, boss?"
"Bring these out," Aric instructed, referring to the crates.
"Understood." The man then called for some others nearby to assist him as they began offloading the crates. As this was happening, the remaining bandits began to flood out of the mine, including Borag and Twicher.
"Ah, sire, you’ve returned... we have been awaiting instructions," Twicher greeted.
"Yes, I came with those. But first, as I said, I will offer you all something more"
Aric turned to see the crates fully offloaded and placed on the ground before turning back to the crowd, scanning their faces one by one.
"Borag, step forward," Aric instructed.
The bandit looked around, slightly confused, before walking forward until Aric raised his hand to signal him to stop.
Aric then turned to the panel.
’Open party: Human bandits only... list by potential.’
[Showing party member details.]
[Filter: Human Bandits, Potential]
-—
House Of Arkhan
Bandits/Humans
Silas Petoni | Human
STR: 7 | STM: 7 | SPD: 5
Loyalty: 52
Emotion: Greed
A man with bright white hair and a slender figure stepped out as well, his face unreadable.
"Good," Aric commented before turning to Lerai and the driver. "Gear them up."
Lerai nodded as they opened up the crates, taking out gloves and vests for the three selected bandits.
"Borag, you will fight these three men today."
Borag smiled, looking away from the prince before laughing. He then turned back to Aric, whose face remained cold and stern, indicating that he was not joking.
"Wait, you’re serious?" Borag confirmed.
"Yes... I am," Aric responded quickly.
"That doesn’t seem fair at all. I’m a cultivator; they’re just men," Borag voiced his concerns.
"I understand that... just make sure to do your best against them," Aric smiled, almost mischievously, before turning to Lerai, who had nearly finished gearing up all three men and giving them the instructions they needed.
Aric stepped back, allowing Lerai a couple of minutes to finish his explanation.
When the mage was done, all three bandits stood opposite Borag, clad in the strength-enhancing and arrow-shooter gloves along with the damage-reducing vests. Uncertainty was written very clearly on their faces. They knew Borag was far stronger than them, but they were also curious if what Lerai had told them was truth.
It was a curiosity that could be found on the faces of every bandit watching the scene unfold.
"Ready?" Aric confirmed with both sides.
Borag smiled confidently as he nodded, while the three bandits opposite him nodded slightly nervously.
The air in the clearing oozed with anticipation as Aric stepped back, giving the bandits and Borag space for their impromptu match.
Borag, a seasoned cultivator, showed only confidence as he cracked his knuckles, the smirk on his face growing wider. Across from him, the three bandits—Silas, Regin, and Markin—looked far less certain.
Despite the shiny new gear strapped to their bodies, they found it next to impossible to accomplish defeating the mighty bandit leader. Borag wasn’t just another thug; he was a battle-hardened warrior with years of cultivation experience.
"Begin," Aric commanded, his voice calm, almost detached.
Silas, physically the strongest of the three bandits, naturally, was the first to make a move. He lunged forward with brute force, his new strength made evident in the way his muscles rippled under the augmented glove.
He swung his fist toward Borag’s side, aiming for a quick blow to test the waters. But Borag was faster—his years of training had honed his reflexes to perfection. With a simple sidestep, he dodged the attack, letting Silas stumble forward awkwardly.
Borag grinned. "Is that it... really?"
Regin and Markin joined in next, moving in tandem. Regin wielded a short sword, and his attacks, while clumsy, were aggressive and persistent.
He swung wildly, but the power behind his strikes was amplified by the glove, forcing Borag to stay on the defensive. Markin, on the other hand, was quicker—his speed outmatched the others, but his blows were less powerful. He darted in and out of the fight, throwing rapid strikes with his arrow-shooting glove, trying to find an opening.
"How could they get that strong?" A confused whisper ran through the crowd of thugs as they watched the men perform feats they were certain were beyond average humans.