### Chapter 28: The Attack on the Bandit Camp
Arthur crouched in the shadows at the edge of the bandit camp, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. The moon cast an eerie glow over the clearing, illuminating the drunken revelry of the bandits. Their stolen goods lay scattered around, evidence of their recent raid.
Baal's voice echoed in Arthur's mind, dripping with malevolent glee. "Remember, boy, no mercy. Make them suffer."
Arthur's lips curled into a cold smile. "I won't forget." He began to circulate his vital energy through every fiber of his body, feeling the surge of strength and speed. His thoughts became sharper, more focused. He activated the chi circulation in his eyes, enhancing his visual perception, and in his ears, amplifying his hearing. The world around him became clearer, every sound and movement heightened.
As he moved silently through the trees, a memory flashed in his mind. He remembered the day he found his parents' bodies--the sight of his father lying lifeless in the forge, his mother's broken body on the floor of their home. The image of their blood-soaked forms fueled his rage.
*Arthur stepped into the forge, the metallic smell of blood hitting him first. His father lay on the ground, his body still warm but lifeless. Arthur's heart clenched, a cold numbness spreading through him. He rushed to his home, finding his mother on the floor, her body battered and broken. Tears streamed down his face as he knelt beside her, his cries of anguish filling the silent house. The memory of her lifeless eyes haunted him, driving him to this moment of vengeance.*
Arthur approached the first bandit from behind, dark energy swirling around his hand. He placed his hand on the bandit's neck, and the man's eyes snapped open in terror.
"Wha--" the bandit began, but his words were cut off as Arthur's hand clenched, crushing his windpipe. The bandit's struggles grew weaker until he lay still, his eyes wide with fear.
"One down," Baal whispered, a note of satisfaction in his voice.
Arthur moved to the next bandit, who was sitting by the fire, laughing with his comrades. He drew a small dagger from his belt and approached quietly. With a swift motion, he slit the bandit's throat, blood spraying onto the ground. The man's laughter turned into a gurgle as he clutched his neck, trying to stem the flow.
The other bandits jumped to their feet, drawing their weapons. Arthur stepped into the firelight, his eyes cold and determined. "You're all going to die tonight," he said, his voice low and menacing.
They charged at him, but Arthur was ready. He summoned a blast of dark energy, sending two of them flying backward. He ducked under the swing of a sword and drove his dagger into another bandit's chest, twisting the blade to maximize the damage.
Baal's laughter filled his mind. "Good, Arthur. Let the darkness consume you."
Arthur felt a surge of power as he channeled his anger and hatred. He grabbed another bandit by the head and slammed him into the ground, feeling the man's skull crack under his grip. He turned to face the remaining bandits, who were backing away in fear.
"Pathetic," Arthur sneered. "Is this the best you can do?"
One of the bandits, a burly man with a scar across his face, lunged at Arthur with a roar. Arthur sidestepped and drove his fist into the man's stomach, doubling him over. He grabbed the bandit by the hair and slammed his knee into the man's face, breaking his nose. Blood spattered across Arthur's clothes as he threw the bandit aside.
The remaining bandits tried to flee, but Arthur was faster. He caught up to one and grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. The bandit swung his sword wildly, but Arthur easily dodged the attack. He plunged his dagger into the man's gut and twisted, relishing the bandit's scream of agony.
"Finish him," Baal urged.
Arthur pulled the dagger out and slashed the bandit's throat, watching the life drain from his eyes. He turned to the last bandit, who was cowering on the ground, his sword lying forgotten beside him.
"Please," the bandit begged, his voice trembling. "I'll do anything. Just don't kill me."
Arthur's smile was cold and merciless. "You should have thought of that before you became a bandit."
He raised his dagger, but Baal's voice stopped him. "Wait. We need information."
Arthur hesitated, then lowered his weapon. "Fine. You get to live. For now."
He grabbed the bandit by the collar and dragged him to the center of the camp, where the other surviving bandit was already tied up. The two men looked at Arthur with fear in their eyes, knowing that their fate was in his hands.
Arthur knelt in front of them, his expression dark and menacing. "Now, you're going to tell me everything you know. Who you work for, where you've been, and what you've stolen."
The bandits exchanged nervous glances, then the first one began to speak, his voice shaking. "We--we're just a small group. We steal what we can to survive. Please, don't kill us."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you. Who are you working for?"
The second bandit, a younger man with a desperate look in his eyes, blurted out, "We were hired by Lord Varic! He pays us to raid the villages and bring him the loot."
Arthur's heart pounded with rage. "Lord Varic. He's the one who sent you to my village, isn't he?"
The bandit nodded, tears streaming down his face. "Yes. It was him. Please, we're just following orders."
Arthur's mind raced. He had a name now, a target for his vengeance. But first, he needed more information. "Tell me everything you know about Lord Varic. Where does he live? How many men does he have?"
The bandits spoke quickly, eager to save their lives. They described Lord Varic's mansion, the number of guards, and the layout of the estate. Arthur listened carefully, committing every detail to memory.
When they finished, Arthur stood up, his eyes cold and calculating. "Thank you. You've been very helpful."
He turned to leave, but Baal's voice stopped him. "What are you going to do with them?"
Arthur looked back at the bandits, who were watching him with hope in their eyes. "I'm going to let them live. For now."
Baal chuckled darkly. "Very well. But remember, Arthur, mercy can be a weakness. Don't let it cloud your judgment."
Arthur's smile turned even colder. "Who said anything about mercy? I need a more secluded spot for some... experiments."
Baal's laughter was filled with dark amusement. "There's a cave nearby where you found the amulet. It would be perfect for your needs."
Arthur nodded. "Sounds ideal."
He dragged the bandits, now trembling and pleading, deeper into the forest. The journey was grueling, and Arthur felt a twisted pleasure in their suffering. They finally reached the cave, and Arthur secured the bandits inside, ensuring they had no chance of escape.
The bandits' cries echoed in the cavern, their fear palpable. Arthur stood over them, his eyes filled with a mix of malice and anticipation. "Now, we begin."
Using the chi circulating through his body, Arthur felt his physical abilities enhanced. His strength, speed, and endurance were far beyond what a typical child his age should possess. This made the torturous process all the more efficient and brutal.
Arthur's face twisted into a sadistic grin. "You know, Baal, I think I'm starting to enjoy this."
Baal's voice was approving. "Good. Embrace the darkness, Arthur. Use it to fuel your power."
Arthur focused and used Life Vision, combining his vital energy and mana to see the bandits' life forces and mana cores. He saw that they had faint life energies and mana cores of dull onyx and bright onyx. He attempted to manipulate their energies but found it difficult. Frustrated, he turned to Baal.
"Do you know any way to manipulate their life energy or mana?" Arthur asked.
Baal's voice was contemplative. "I've stolen life forces before to extend my own, but it's a complex process involving rituals. However, with your Life Vision, we might be able to create a new method. Follow my lead."
Arthur listened as Baal guided him through the steps. "First, you need to focus on their mana cores and life centers. Imagine tendrils of your energy reaching out and connecting with theirs."
Arthur closed his eyes and concentrated. He visualized tendrils of his mana and life force extending from his body towards the bandits. The first few attempts were met with resistance, his tendrils dissipating before they could make contact.
"No, you're doing it wrong," Baal snapped. "You need to be more forceful. Their life force won't come willingly. You have to take it."
Arthur gritted his teeth and tried again. This time, he poured more of his will into the tendrils, forcing them to reach the bandits' cores. He felt a slight connection, but it slipped away as quickly as it came.
"Damn it!" Arthur cursed, frustration boiling over.
"Focus, boy," Baal's voice was sharp. "Don't let your anger cloud your mind. Use it to fuel your power, but
"but don't let it control you."
Arthur took a deep breath, letting his anger simmer just beneath the surface. He tried again, this time with a more controlled focus. He visualized the tendrils of mana and life force as extensions of his own being, reaching out and piercing the bandits' cores with relentless determination.
He felt the connection solidify, and a surge of power flowed into him. The bandits screamed in agony as their life energy and mana were siphoned away, but Arthur didn't waver. He held the connection, drawing their energy into himself, feeling it merge with his own.
"That's it," Baal encouraged, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "You're doing it."
Arthur continued the process, the bandits' screams echoing through the cavern. The flow of energy was slow and excruciating for them, but Arthur persisted, feeling their energies flow into him. Their mana cores dimmed and withered under his assault, their life forces fading until they were little more than husks.
"This is… amazing," Arthur muttered, feeling the surge of power.
"We'll call this ability 'Death's Embrace,'" Baal suggested. "It's a fitting name for such a technique."
Arthur's face twisted into a sadistic grin. "You know, Baal, I think I'm starting to enjoy this."
Baal's voice was approving. "Good. Embrace the darkness, Arthur. Use it to fuel your power."
Arthur continued to drain the bandits' life energies and mana. The process was brutal, leaving them withered and lifeless. Arthur felt a grim satisfaction as their energy became his own.
Finally, when the bandits were nothing more than husks, Arthur stood over them, his eyes cold and detached. "You've outlived your usefulness."
With a swift motion, Arthur ended their lives, their blood pooling on the cave floor. He stood there for a moment, the weight of what he had done settling over him. But instead of guilt, he felt a grim satisfaction.
Baal's voice broke the silence. "Well done, Arthur. You've taken your first real step towards power."
Arthur nodded, feeling a dark sense of accomplishment. "And this is just the beginning."
As he left the cave, Arthur felt the power within him growing stronger. He was no longer just a boy seeking revenge; he was becoming something far more dangerous. With Baal's guidance, he knew he could achieve greatness.
Returning to Lyra and Seraphina, Arthur kept his experience in the cave to himself. He had learned much and knew there was still much to do. His path was set, and nothing would stand in his way.
Arthur's thoughts turned to Lord Varic, the man who had orchestrated the attack on his village. "You're next," he whispered to himself, a cold determination in his voice.
With a newfound sense of purpose, Arthur continued his training, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. The darkness within him was growing, and he was eager to unleash it on those who had wronged him.
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Arthur's transformation was more than just physical; it was deeply psychological. As he honed his skills, the memories of his parents' brutal murders became a constant driving force. The weight of their loss bore down on him, transforming his grief into a cold, calculating determination.
Every time he practiced "Death's Embrace," he remembered the bloodied bodies of his parents, the helplessness he felt as a mere child. Now, he was far from helpless. Each bandit he drained of life and mana was a step closer to avenging his family. The thrill of power coursing through him became a drug, feeding his growing hunger for vengeance and control.
Baal's voice was a constant presence, guiding and taunting. "You have great potential, Arthur. Your pain and anger are powerful tools. Use them wisely."
Arthur practiced relentlessly, pushing his limits. He refined his Life Vision, learning to distinguish between different types of energy. The mana cores of his enemies were no longer just sources of power; they were keys to unlocking his own potential. His ability to manipulate life force and mana became second nature, an extension of his will.
One evening, as Arthur meditated, he felt a presence approaching. He opened his eyes to see Lyra standing before him, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Arthur, I've been observing your progress. You're advancing rapidly, but I sense something... darker within you," Lyra said cautiously.
Arthur met her gaze, his eyes cold and unreadable. "I need power, Lyra. To protect my siblings, to avenge my parents. I can't afford to be weak."
Lyra nodded slowly. "I understand your pain, Arthur. But you must be careful. The path you're on is dangerous. It can consume you if you're not careful."
Arthur's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "I'm already consumed, Lyra. But I won't let it destroy me. I'll use it to become stronger."
As the days turned into weeks, Arthur's reputation began to spread. Stories of a young boy with terrifying power reached the ears of neighboring villages and towns. Bandits who once roamed freely now feared the shadows, knowing that a vengeful spirit hunted them.
Arthur's training with Lyra continued, but he also ventured out on his own, seeking out more bandits and criminals to hone his skills. Each encounter was a test, a chance to perfect his techniques and grow stronger. He left a trail of blood and fear in his wake, a testament to his relentless pursuit of power.
One night, as Arthur returned from another successful raid, he found Lyra waiting for him at the edge of the forest. Her expression was stern, her eyes filled with worry.
"Arthur, we need to talk," she said firmly.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"About your methods," Lyra replied. "You're becoming more ruthless, more brutal. This path you're on... it's not sustainable. You need to find balance."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Balance? My parents were murdered, Lyra. My siblings and I were left with nothing. Balance won't bring them back. Power will."
Lyra sighed, her expression softening. "I understand your pain, Arthur. But there are other ways to achieve your goals. You don't have to become a monster to get revenge."
Arthur's gaze hardened. "Maybe not. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
As Lyra watched Arthur walk away, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was slipping further into darkness. She knew she had to help him find a way back, to remind him of the light that still existed within him.
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