The hunter walked toward the young bandit he had shot, after making sure the young bandit was dead, he looked over towards the knight. The knight sat leaning against one of the wagons wheels, his face was ghastly pale save the blood splatter. The knight looked towards the hunter and tried to speak but only an odd croaking noise and a bloody foam came out of his mouth. As the hunter moved closer to the wagon the knight tried harder to speak failing again, failing to speak the knight dragged his hand across the armor on his chest to dig at his collar. A chain was pulled out of the armor as the knights' hand fell powerless to the ground.
The noise drew the attention of the hunter. First looking at the ring then into the eyes of the knight he spoke.
"You want the prayer, right?"
The knight tried to nod his head but only managed to slightly wiggle it instead.
"Alright."
The hunter kneeled next to the knight and placed his right hand on the knights' shoulder before looking up to the sky.
"My name is Grimvir. I do not know these knights, nor what god or gods they serve. I stand witness to their bravery, they fought against great odds, never retreating, never breaking faith. As they severed you in life, may they severe you in death within your eternal kingdom."
After the prayer Grimvir looked at the knight, his eyes were closed, and he no longer made any movements, he was dead. A slight sigh left Grimvirs' lips before he removed chain off the knights' neck and the coin purse from his hip. Every knight and bandit had his neck checked and his coin purse removed, not that there was much to get. Bandits were more known for hoarding loot at their hideout then carrying it with them, and the other knights were poorer than Grimvir himself.
Walking to the back of the wagon, Grimvir could see that the left and right side of the inside of the wagon was lined with little drawers. He quickly got into the back of the wagon and began opening the hundreds of little drawers. Each of the drawers he opened only contained 3 types of herbs, and lots of them. Pilt weed: if ground to a paste it heals wounds faster, if boiled into a tea it aids in recovering blood. Shocna root: it's mashed into a juice and used to numb pain; a single drop may taste like liquid from a rotten cesspit, but you could be skinned alive and not feel a thing. The last of the 3 herbs was Doto leaves: when eaten raw or brewed into a tea they cure almost all kinds of sickness. It's said that nobles have barrels of Doto leaves and eat or drink them every day to keep from getting sick.
"YOU ROT BRAINED MORONS, IF YOU WEREN'T ALREADY DEAD, I'D KILL YOU ALL."
Furious, Grimvir starred at the herbs. They were all damaged, the leaves were crushed, and the roots torn, and they were withered. If the herbs were in good shape, he could trade them to the village trade center. Half the herbs in the wagon could have been used to get a stronger bow with several dozen better arrows and a couple sets of new clothes and still be able to eat meals at the trade center for a year. The other half of the herbs could have been used to buy land and have a nice house built so he doesn't have to live in a shack with his rot brained father.
From the looks of the herbs Grimvir could easily guess how they were damaged. The knights noticed the herbs growing around the mountains to the east. Trying to save money or even make money, the knight gripped the herbs tightly with their hardened leather gloves and ripped them out of the ground. While Grimvir had never harvested Doto leaves he had come across the other two while hunting in the woods, each plant he found was carefully dug out, before wrapping the roots in a moist cloth before rushing back to the village trade center.
"All these deaths, for nothing. I wonder if you bandits would be happy if you knew your prize was a bunch of ruined herbs a few coins and a ring."
Removing the chain from the ring he tried it on. The ring being sized for an adult's finger easily slipped onto his finger. Grimvir watched as the ring quickly shrunk in size, tightly gripping his finger so hard it felt that finger was being crushed. After a few moments of pain and panic he felt relief, but his relief was short lived replaced with joy and fear as he looked at the now perfectly fitting ring.
Grimvir felt a pinch behind his eyes as he waved his hand and three large chests appeared before him, repeating the process the chests disappeared.
"I know what this is, that degenerate priest talked about how large churches have space rings. Shit, this isn't something they will forget about losing. They will send knights to find it, maybe all their knights."
A space ring is a treasure beyond imagination. A large church "may" have one, one of the largest empires may have three or four, and the number of thirteen-year-old hunters that have a space ring: one. If Grimvir gave it to a church he could receive a large amount of money, more than enough to live a long happy life. If gave it to an empire he could receive land, money, and a title of nobility and live as a wealthy Baron for the rest of his life. While those would be nice to think about, Grimvir wasn't foolish enough to think anyone would give him anything but death for this ring.
"I need to leave."
It was a simple statement, but he knew it was only a matter of time until some came looking for the reason their men and property were missing. The bodies would be dragged off into the woods and be eaten, but the wagon would remain on the side of the road. Anyone looking for it would easily find it and have a place to start searching for the ring.
Looking around an idea formed in Grimvir's mind, he grabbed an axe from one of the dead bandits and began hacking at the harness holding the large beast to the wagon, after a few minutes the beast was freed. With a wave of the hand the beast disappeared into the ring, soon followed by the wagon and the dead bodies. The only evidence left of the battle was the blood on the road, and in a few days the rains would come and wash the last traces away.
Grimvir felt exhausted, each use of the space ring used some of his spirit power. The bigger the item stored the more spirit power it took, the beast and wagon plus the thirty something dead bodies took a lot of his spirit power. Grimvir shook his head and started his two-hour walk to his hunting shack with his new treasure around his finger.