"You filthy monsters, stay away from our village!" a bearded man with a tremor in his voice roared.
A cold chuckle escaped Montu's lips. "Did I harm any of you? Or your precious village? No. Yet you point your rusty blades at me like rabid dogs and if battle is what you want..." said Montu while ordering Happy and hobgoblin to raise their swords, "battle is what you'll get."
The villagers flinched, they'd heard whispers of speaking monsters, creatures of legend lurking in forgotten dungeons and treacherous mountains. But to see one standing before them was a different kind of horror.
"What do you want, Mr. monster?" another villager stammered, his voice hoarse with fear.
Montu savored their trepidation. "Nothing," he drawled, his voice rasping against the silence. "I merely found your ghost town intriguing. Why so quiet, I wondered."
A tense silence ensued, broken only by the wind rustling through the dry leaves. The villagers eyed each other, seeking confirmation, a shared understanding of their desperate situation. Montu watched them, a predator observing its prey.
Finally, a wizened old man stepped forward, his voice creaking like an unoiled hinge. "We are…troubled, Great Monster. Bandits plague these mountains, taking our young girls, leaving us in fear."
'I have no obligations to help them, let's just go away' he didn't want to get in unnecessary trouble.
[Side Quest Triggered]
[Brave warriors always help people in need, how could you think of running away. Be a brave adventurous soul and rescue the captives]
>_<
Eliminate the Mountain Bandits
Reward=Quick steps will be upgraded to Lvl 2 and 2 stat points.
Time limit= 3 days
Penalty= -1 level of Host
He considered his options, relishing the power to choose their fate. He could leave them to their troubles. But then again, a challenge presented itself, a way to increase his strength.
His grin widened, a chilling mockery of a smile. "Don't fret, villagers. The next time your bandit friends come, I shall deal with them. For a price, of course. Nothing is free in this world, not even my mercy."
A ripple of surprise, then relief, washed over the villagers. They had expected death, destruction, or worse. This…this was unexpected. Hope, faint and flickering, ignited in their eyes.
But before they could celebrate their reprieve, the old man spoke again, his voice heavy with a desperate plea.
"We can give you one girl of your choice if you help us get all the other girls from them."
The audacity of the request grated on Montu's non-existent nerves.
'What kind of shitty logic is this, this place deserves to be finished'.thought Montu.
He checked the system interface, the side quest glowing ominously on the screen. "Eliminate the Mountain Bandits," it read, devoid of any mention of protecting the villagers.
A cruel humor twisted his features. These fools dared bargain with fate, offering him girls like trinkets in a market stall. He could humor them, crush them like ants when their usefulness expired. His gaze swept over the terrified villagers, their faces masks of desperation.
His voice, when he spoke, was a sibilant hiss. "You misunderstand your position, little worms. You are all equally… expendable. And as for a reward…" He paused, savoring their flinches, their gasps of horror. "I shall take everything."
"I guess you don't deserve to live, or even if you do, I don't want to see your ugly faces anymore. So, could you please die?"
The sun seemed to dim, a shadow crawling across the village as Montu raised his hand. Happy and the Hobgoblin surged forward, their blades glinting with murderous intent. The villagers' screams, desperate and futile, shattered the morning calm, painting the air with a symphony of terror.
The hobgoblin was 3 metres in height with a muscular build, and his red eyes and pale greenish-blue color could instil fear in anyone. While Happy was 1.7 metres in height with a small build but the red spots shining in his armor and a red streak across his chest made him look more domineering.
He watched the villagers scramble, desperation replacing their initial defiance. Happy and the Hobgoblin lumbered forward, their monstrous forms casting grotesque shadows across the dusty ground. The villagers stumbled back, faces contorted in a mix of fear and newfound understanding. They were prey, cornered and outmatched.
"Please forgive us, it was our mistake to offer you one woman, as great as you are, you should have more than a few women, we will give you 10 if you spare us and kill the bandits" said another old-looking man.
"Even the old one is afraid to die, you are already half buried in your grave, but you still have the shamelessness to use others life for your sake"
'I am no different but still, I won't allow anyone else to do wrongdoings except myself'
"I guess you still don't understand your situation, you old bag of bones. You're all as good as dead, you have no chance to escape."said Montu in a cold and threatening tone.
The pleas, ragged and desperate, a hope to survive. "Mercy! We have gold! We can give you anything!" Their cries echoed through the huts, a morbid chorus in the silence of the town.
Montu relished the raw terror bubbling in their eyes, the thrill of absolute power exciting him. But something flickered within him, a cold spark of amusement rather than pure bloodlust. These villagers, despite their cowardice, were not his true targets. They were puppets, dancing on his palm.
He glanced at the Hobgoblin, its vacant eyes reflecting the morning sun. "Hold," he rasped, his voice cutting through the cacophony like a bone-chilling knife. The creature halted mid-stride, its hulking form a silent testament to Montu's control.
The villagers froze, hope flickering again in their glazed eyes. Was this a reprieve? A bargaining chip? Montu savored their uncertainty, the power to twist their fate, a delicate plaything in his hands.
"You speak of bandits," he drawled, his voice raspy and cold. "Tell me, about them. Where do they dwell? How strong are they? How many?"
The air crackled with tension as the villagers exchanged nervous glances. Montu's sudden shift from predator to interrogator left them bewildered. Was this a ploy, a test of their desperation?
Finally, a woman(middle aged) stepped forward, her voice trembling but resolute. "The bandits hide in a mountain cave, north of here. They are ruthless, like wolves, and always come in a group of ten. We don't know the exact numbers, but they're not more than 25."
"Thank you"