The leader of the bandits stopped in his tracks, his smug confidence replaced by a mixture of shock and fury as he slowly turned back to face Oasis,
realizing that this 'merchandise' was not as helpless as they had assumed.
The leader of the bandits, his face contorted with a mixture of shock and fury, barked out a command, "Kill that brat!"
His henchmen, who had been momentarily stunned by the death of Roy, snapped into action.
They drew their weapons, the sharp scrape of metal against leather filling the air.
Two men advanced on Oasis, their faces twisted with killing intent, their eyes locked on him as if he were nothing more than a target to be eliminated.
The first bandit, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, lunged forward with a heavy broadsword, aiming a powerful overhead strike at Oasis.
The second, a leaner man with a dagger in each hand, circled around, looking for an opening to strike.
Oasis remained calm, his eyes narrowing as he assessed their movements.
In a fluid motion, he sidestepped the broadsword strike, the blade missing him by mere inches.
The force of the swing left the burly bandit momentarily off-balance, and Oasis seized the opportunity.
With a swift, precise slash of his sword, he severed the man's arm at the elbow, the limb falling to the ground with a wet thud.
The bandit barely had time to scream before Oasis followed up with a clean, decapitating strike, sending the man's head rolling across the forest floor.
The leaner bandit, seeing his companion fall, rushed in from the side, his daggers flashing as he aimed for Oasis's ribs.
But Oasis was already moving, his body a blur as he pivoted and parried the attack with effortless grace.
In one fluid motion, he stepped inside the bandit's guard, bringing his sword up in a swift arc that sliced through both the bandit's wrists.
The daggers fell from his now-useless hands, and before the man could even register the pain, Oasis's sword completed its deadly arc, taking the bandit's head clean off.
The remaining bandits watched in horror as their comrades fell, their heads and limbs separated from their bodies with almost surgical precision.
Oasis stood among the fallen, his breathing steady, his rusty sword dripping with blood.
With a flick of his wrist, he waved the blade through the air, sending droplets of blood splattering across the ground as he cleaned the sword's edge.
The leader, now visibly frightened, tried to mask his fear with bravado.
"Who are you, kid? Here, take this!" he stammered, pulling a small pouch from his belt and tossing it to Oasis.
The sound of clinking coins was unmistakable. "Join me, and you can be my right-hand man."
Oasis caught the pouch effortlessly but didn't even glance at it.
His eyes were cold, and his voice was laced with contempt.
"I'm smarter than you and stronger. How could I be your lackey? Spill out the information, or you die."
The leader laughed, though the sound was forced and hollow.
"Ha ha ha, you brat, I admit your strength caught me off guard, but that doesn't mean I'm afraid of you!"
His nervous habit kicked in, and he licked his lips as he drew his weapon—a long, curved sword that gleamed ominously in the dim light.
"You're just one kid, and we're many!" he shouted, nodding to his remaining lackeys.
Two of the bandits, who had been standing a few paces back with bows drawn, immediately fired arrows at Oasis, their expressions tense as they aimed for his heart.
As the arrows hurtled towards him, Oasis exhaled slowly, focusing his energy.
In an instant, he activated his 'Dancing Phoenix' footwork technique, his body becoming a blur of motion.
He moved faster than the eye could track, closing the distance between him and the bowmen in a heartbeat.
The bandits barely had time to register what was happening.
One moment, Oasis was standing several feet away, the next, he was between them, his sword flashing in the dappled light of the forest.
The bowmen's eyes widened in terror as their throats were slashed in a single, fluid motion.
Blood spurted from the wounds as their bodies collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
The remaining bandits, who had been positioned in a rough semi-circle behind the bowmen, were left paralyzed with fear.
They had watched in stunned disbelief as Oasis had moved with inhuman speed, cutting down their comrades without breaking a sweat.
Their confidence shattered, they began to realize that they were facing a force far beyond their understanding.
Oasis's gaze shifted to the two bandits who stood furthest from him, next to each other.
Their eyes widened in fear as Oasis swung his sword, channeling his wind mana into the blade.
A sharp, greenish glow enveloped the weapon as he unleashed a wind slice, the force of the magic cutting through the air like a razor.
The wind slice surged forward with deadly precision, tearing through the two bandits' midsections.
The power of Oasis's mana, however, proved too much for the simple sword.
As the wind slice was unleashed, the blade crumbled and shattered into pieces, unable to withstand the overwhelming force.
The sword disintegrated in Oasis's hand, leaving only a broken hilt.
The two bandits collapsed to the ground, their bodies split open by the force of the wind slice.
Blood pooled around them, and the silence that followed was deafening.
Out of the nine bandits, only the leader and one remaining henchman were left standing.
The leader's eyes widened in realization as the shattered sword crumbled in Oasis's hand.
"Mana manipulation!" the leader thought outloud, panic flooding his mind as he grasped the true extent of the trouble he was in.
Before the leader could react further, Oasis hurled the broken half of the sword at him with incredible force.
The shard of metal whizzed through the air and embedded itself deep into the leader's skull, piercing through his brain.
The leader's eyes went blank as his body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.