Agnes always dreamed of leading her team to glory—exploring dungeons, growing stronger, and becoming legendary figures. Her teammates were valuable and determined, full of potential to reach the pinnacle of strength. But reality had a cruel way of shattering dreams.
Who could have imagined that their journey would be cut short by a bandit group? Her grip tightened around the hilt of her sword as she prepared for what seemed inevitable: a desperate fight to the death. She hoped that at least her sister Ruby could escape, though deep down, she knew it was a fleeting hope. The bandits would capture them both, and they would be violated, degraded, their pride shattered.
The bandit leader, a muscular brute wielding a sword, eyed them with a lecherous grin. Agnes was on par with him in strength, but the others—those at the second stage—would overwhelm them by sheer numbers. Ruby, nervous but resolute, could handle a couple of them, but not enough to change their grim fate.
The leader's eyes roved over Agnes and Ruby, lingering on their bodies with undisguised lust. He sneered, his voice dripping with condescension and desire. "Why don't you surrender? You know you'll lose. Why struggle? I'd hate to scratch that pretty face of yours before I've had my fun."
Disgust curled in Agnes's stomach. She spat back, "I'd rather die, you scum." Then, in a hushed tone, she whispered to Ruby, "I'll distract them. You run away."
Ruby's eyes widened in fear and determination. "No, I won't leave without you, Sister!"
Agnes struggled to find the words that might save Ruby, to convince her to flee. But before she could say anything, a sudden movement caught her eye.
The bandit leader's confident sneer turned into a grimace of pain as a sword pierced through his heart from behind. He coughed up blood, struggling to turn and face his attacker. Standing behind him was a boy with white hair and piercing golden eyes that seemed to bore into the very essence of his soul.
Ryan twisted the sword with a calculated motion, causing the bandit leader to spew more blood. With a swift kick, he sent the dying man sprawling to the ground, where he convulsed once before succumbing to death. Ryan had recognized the danger of the bandit leader's third-stage strength and innate ability. Without hesitation, he used the spell , 'Shadow Steps,' to close the distance silently and dispatch the threat before it could materialize.
With the leader gone, Ryan knew the remaining bandits would be easy pickings. The girls, too, could now handle them without fear.
The bandits, stunned by the sudden turn of events, finally snapped out of their shock. One of them yelled, "Kill him!" But before the words fully left his mouth, his head was severed by Agnes's blade.
Ryan moved fluidly, dodging and deflecting their attacks with effortless grace. His footwork was precise, his reflexes beyond human. These bandits, mere second-stage fighters, were no match for him. Even their innate abilities were laughable, mere parlor tricks compared to the spells Ryan had mastered as a prince of the kingdom.
As Ryan fought, he noticed that the bandits attacking Agnes would occasionally freeze in place, their minds clouded with confusion. It seemed she possessed an illusion-based ability, effective against those weaker than her. Unfortunately, it hadn't been enough to turn the tide against the bandit leader, who likely had a strong innate ability of his own.
The battle was over in minutes. Ryan and the two girls stood victorious among the fallen bandits, their bodies littering the forest floor. The danger had passed, but the weight of what had just occurred hung in the air like a heavy mist.
"Thank you for saving us. I will make sure to repay you in the future," Agnes said, her voice laced with determination, though her expression was grim. The weight of her friends' deaths hung heavily on her, and though she tried to appear strong, the pain was evident in her eyes.
"No need to thank me or repay me," Ryan replied, his tone steady. "I only did what needed to be done." He wasn't looking for gratitude or favors in return; he simply acted on what he believed was right. Ryan wasn't a saint who sought to save everyone, but he couldn't stand by and let others be oppressed.