**[Name: Bandit Leader (Elite)]**
**[Rank: Tier 1]**
**[Talent: High Plunder – Gains 2 gold coins for each enemy killed]**
**[Attack: Intermediate]**
**[Defense: High]**
**[Speed: Low]**
**[Equipment: Iron armor, Damascus sword, warhorse]**
**[Description: As a leader, the bandit chief is not only the best-equipped member of the gang but also the strongest. After all, if he weren't the strongest, he wouldn't be the leader—he'd be the *former* leader.**
"Alright! I'll take you all on!"
With a crazed battle cry, the bandit leader, fully armored and brandishing his Damascus sword, charged forward. Swinging his blade wildly, he shattered bamboo spears and crushed skeletons as he advanced. His target was clear from the beginning—the unique skeleton standing out with its flag: Grim's decoy, Skeleton Number One!
Through sheer brute force, he hacked his way through a dozen skeletons to finally reach his target. Leaping into the air, he brought his sword down with all his might, severing the skull of Grim's flag-bearing skeleton with a single strike.
Watching the shattered skull and scattered bones fall, along with the toppled flag, the bandit leader raised his sword in victory and let out a triumphant howl…
Only to be immediately impaled by a forest of bamboo spears from all directions, lifting him helplessly into the air.
His armor was tough, too tough for bamboo spears to pierce—but the spears could still hold him in place! Trapped by a cage of intersecting bamboo poles, the bandit leader hung suspended, his legs kicking uselessly.
At that moment, a loud voice echoed from within the skeletal ranks. "Don't let him down! Keep stabbing! Aim for his head, his face, his—uh, you know!"
Responding to Grim's commands, the skeleton soldiers commenced a relentless assault on the immobilized bandit leader, who struggled in vain against the endless thrusts. The voice continued to shout instructions.
"No, you! Hold steady! Who's going to keep him pinned if you're stabbing? That three-meter spear you're holding isn't for show—get in there! Hey, I told you to hold him, not stab him! Why are you everywhere I look?!"
Pinned in place, the bandit leader frantically glanced around, desperate to find the skeleton giving the orders. But it was hopeless—all the skeletons looked identical, especially in the dark of night.
He tried to resist, but his sword couldn't reach his attackers, and the armor that once protected him became his prison as he was held in midair, helpless. His furious screams echoed, only to be silenced by a bamboo spear that skewered his mouth, ending him instantly.
---
The battle was finally over. Despite his iron armor rendering him a veritable tank, the bandit leader had met his end at the hands of Grim's relentless skeleton soldiers. His demise was brutal—likely the most gruesome of any bandit that night.
Even after he appeared lifeless, Grim ordered his soldiers to keep striking. He wasn't convinced the leader was truly dead until a skeleton thrust a spear into his vital area, confirming that he was beyond any doubt finished.
The bandit camp was a blood-soaked ruin, with corpses strewn across the ground. Grim had underestimated the camp's numbers—there had been over sixty bandits, not forty. But despite their advantage in numbers and position, the bandits had been no match for Grim's well-organized skeletal phalanx.
Many of Grim's skeletons lay scattered, their bones broken. Fortunately, with the battle's swift end, they had enough time to reassemble their shattered bodies. Had the battle dragged on, or worse, ended in defeat, many of these skeletons would've seen their ghostly flames extinguished for good.
As his troops regrouped and healed, Grim knelt beside a skull with a gaping hole, grief-stricken as he let out an anguished cry. "No! Number One!"
Cradling the shattered skull, Grim gazed at it with sorrow. His loyal skeleton had given its un-life for him, the ghostly flames in its eyes extinguished, unable to return. The pain of losing such a steadfast companion was too much to bear.
"Number One! I'm so sorry! This is all my fault—I never should've put you in harm's way. I'll avenge you! I'll make the world pay! I'll take that guy's skull and drink from it like a goblet! I'll—"
Grim's monologue was interrupted by a scraping sound beside him. Turning, he saw another skeleton soldier, casually reattaching its own bones as it picked up the fallen flag with a solemn air.
Standing tall, the skeleton donned the same battered helmet and resumed its role as the standard-bearer, holding the flag high. Grim, still clutching the shattered skull, blinked in confusion. Wait, if *that* was Number One, then whose skull was he holding?
Looking down, he realized the skull in his hands had a distinct crack and belonged to a decorative wooden post nearby. He had been mourning over a random skull the entire time…
After a moment of silent reflection, Grim stood up and addressed the newly flag-bearing skeleton. "You did well today. From now on, you'll take Number One's place. Your new name is Number Two!"
The skeleton paused, tilting its head slightly, as if considering the title. Grim glared. "What are you staring at? Want to be demoted to Number Three? Now, get out there and lead the formation!"
Under Grim's firm command, the newly christened Number Two marched away, flag held high. Watching his skeletons reorganize, Grim allowed himself a rare smile. He knew he'd made the right choice. After wiping out over sixty bandits, his Lord's Talent had amassed a terrifying 365 points of energy.
Soon, his first Tier 2 minion would join the ranks.