The bandits brandished weapons, steel and iron glinting in the moonlight as they surrounded them. Ryan could imagine the malicious grins that adorned their masked faces, and each gruesome laugh that shot from their ugly, scarred faces seemed like a countdown to Ryan and Cecil's doom.
"Can you still fight?" Ryan whispered to Cecil, his eyes fixed on the approaching bandits.
"No, I'm out of mana...you?" Cecil inquired.
"I'm also out," Ryan sighed. Now they were in another seemingly inescapable situation, except this time they were basically disabled and powerless.
A bluff, Ryan's golden card. However, the first rule of a well-executed bluff is simple — look the part. Ryan always did, although not intentionally. One look into Ryan's eyes was enough to intimidate most men.
