"Run! Leave it!" The leader of the bandits shouted, his machete raised high, as five or six of his lackeys grabbed sacks of grain and scattered into the forest.
Seeing the bandits trying to flee, Guen immediately gave chase, but the leader stepped in his way.
"Boy, we just want some food. Don't make me do something you'll regret," the bandit leader snarled, holding his rusted machete at the ready, stepping cautiously forward.
"Bah! You're nothing but a bunch of thieves!" Guen retorted fiercely, thrusting his spear toward the bandit leader's chest.
A flash of cold steel expanded as the spear darted forward, but the bandit leader was quick. His machete swung up, deflecting the thrust with a sharp clang. In that instant, the leader's left hand shot out, seizing the shaft of the spear, holding it tight.
Guen gritted his teeth, struggling to pull back, but the bandit leader had a firm grip. With a malicious grin, he stepped closer, raising his machete high and bringing it down toward Guen's head.
In the split second before the blade connected, Guen had no choice but to let go of his spear and leap backward. The cold, gleaming edge of the machete sliced through the air mere inches from his face. With his heart pounding wildly, the blade scraped across his chest, the sound of leather tearing sharp in the quiet.
Guen managed to complete his evasive roll, narrowly avoiding the lethal blow. Gasping for breath, he instinctively touched his chest. His leather armor had been slashed, leaving a long tear, but miraculously, he was unharmed beneath.
The bandit leader paused, a bit surprised at Guen's quick reflexes. However, seeing that Guen was now unarmed and defenseless, he lost interest. He kicked the spear away and, without another word, grabbed a sack of grain and turned to leave.
Guen, having dodged death, retrieved his spear and scanned the area. Apart from a few dead bandits, the rest had already vanished into the forest.
A sense of justice surged within Guen, and he decided he had to do something. He set off after the bandit leader, determined to track them down and recover the stolen goods. By the time Mike Bai noticed, all he saw was a small figure disappearing into the distance.
"Damn it, you little brat! Stop chasing them!" Mike Bai shouted after Guen's retreating back. But the distance was too great; Guen didn't hear him.
Mike Bai cursed under his breath, preparing to give chase himself, but just as he was about to move, someone grabbed his arm. Turning around, he found it was the merchant leader.
The merchant's face was grim, and he shook his head slowly, offering no further explanation.
Back with Guen, he lowered his gaze to the ground, noticing a clear footprint. Without hesitation, he followed the trail, quickly picking up the bandits' tracks.
These bandits had clearly not made any attempt to cover their tracks, and the sacks of grain they carried made it easy to follow their path. As a hunter, Guen had no trouble picking up the clues.
Half an hour later, the trail grew more distinct, with multiple sets of prints converging. Guen even found a scrap of linen cloth, confirming he was on the right path. He slowed his pace, cautiously advancing, knowing he had to be patient. There was no need to rush; once he discovered the bandits' hideout, he could return with reinforcements and recover the stolen goods.
As a knight, Guen believed it was his duty to protect the merchant and reclaim what was stolen. As a hunter, he was no stranger to patience, and he was confident he could catch these bandits.
Finally, after crossing rugged terrain, Guen spotted a small group of figures ahead. He immediately dropped to the ground, hiding in the dense underbrush, moving slowly to get closer.
As he crept forward, Guen finally saw their hideout: a small cave, where several bandits were unloading sacks of stolen grain. The leader was sitting to one side, counting the loot, his machete resting beside him.
Guen memorized the location, but just as he was preparing to leave, a high-pitched voice caught his attention.
"Uncle Anthony! You brought back so much food from the village!" A little girl ran out of the cave. Though she was pale and gaunt, her joy was evident as she looked at the piles of grain.
The bandit leader chuckled heartily and patted the little girl on the head. "Of course! Uncle Anthony is an old soldier, and that bastard baron's men can't do anything to me."
"But why do you always carry a knife when you leave, Uncle?" The little girl blinked up at him, her large eyes innocent and curious.
The bandit leader's face darkened for a moment, but he quickly smiled, picking up his machete and waving it around. "Well, it's for protection, of course! There are still many bad people out there!"
He swung the blade a few times, making the air hum, before turning back to the girl with a warm smile. "But don't worry, little Fanny. I'll protect you."
Fanny's face lit up, her smile blooming as she looked up at him, but then, as if struck by a thought, she glanced around at the others. "Uncle Anthony, where's Uncle Ruf?"
The bandit leader froze for a moment, before forcing a smile. "Oh, he's gone to a far-off town to buy more grain."
"Really?" Fanny's eyes brightened with excitement. "When Uncle Ruf comes back, he'll bring lots of bread, right?"
"Of course," the leader replied with a grin. "But his bread is only for well-behaved children. So, little Fanny, you'd better be good if you want some bread!"
Fanny grinned and made a face, hiding behind the bandit leader as a woman, around thirty years old, emerged from the cave.
When she saw Fanny was unharmed, she sighed in relief, but her expression immediately turned serious as she scolded the little girl. "Didn't I tell you it's dangerous out here? You can't just wander off!"
Fanny stuck out her tongue and hid behind the bandit leader.
"It's fine," the bandit leader said, turning to the woman with a comforting smile. "I've got this. Jacqueline, you don't need to worry. Alex is my best friend. I'll take care of you both."
Jacqueline's face darkened, and the atmosphere grew heavy with sadness.
Guen's heart wavered as he listened to the exchange, caught in a conflict of emotions. He wasn't sure what to do—whether he should report this hideout and plan an assault with the others or leave these people to their fate.
Just as Guen was lost in thought, Fanny spotted a butterfly fluttering by and began chasing it—right toward Guen's hiding place.
His breath caught in his throat. His hand trembled as he reached for his dagger, but the simple motion seemed impossible, as if his body refused to obey.
The girl's innocent laughter echoed in the air as she ran after the butterfly, unaware of the danger just a few feet away. Her childish joy made it all the harder for Guen to act.
He turned his head away, gritting his teeth, and finally drew his dagger, moving slowly, deliberately.
Fanny, still oblivious, continued to chase the butterfly, her laughter ringing clear and pure, her small form completely unaware of the peril that lingered just beyond her sight.