The morning sun stretched over the horizon, casting warm hues across the dirt road as Alex and Marcus began their journey toward Oakshield City. The birds chirped cheerfully, their melodies starkly contrasting with the tension bubbling within Alex. This was his first adventure—his first step into a world he barely understood. His hand brushed against the hilt of his short sword, a reminder of the unfamiliar dangers ahead.
"So, you're new to this adventuring thing, huh?" Marcus asked, breaking the silence.
Alex sighed, adjusting the satchel slung over his shoulder. "Is it that obvious?"
Marcus chuckled, twirling an arrow between his fingers. "Oh, definitely. You've got the look of someone who thinks goblins are just ugly little thieves. Let me tell you, they're worse."
"That's... reassuring," Alex muttered, rolling his eyes.
Marcus grinned. "Relax. Stick with me, and you'll be fine. Just remember: always watch your surroundings. Out here, danger isn't always obvious."
Alex nodded, trying to suppress the rising wave of anxiety. Every shadow seemed to stretch a little too far, every rustle in the trees sounded ominous. His thoughts wandered to the strange burst of power he had felt back in Greenwood Village. Could he rely on it if trouble arose again?
The road stretched on, flanked by dense forests on either side. As they rounded a bend, Marcus abruptly stopped and raised a hand.
"Hold up," he whispered, his sharp gaze fixed on the treeline ahead.
Alex froze, his pulse quickening. "What is it?"
Marcus crouched low, gesturing for Alex to do the same. "Look carefully. There's movement in the trees."
Squinting, Alex scanned the area Marcus had indicated. Sure enough, shadows flitted between the trees, their movements too calculated to be animals.
"Bandits," Marcus muttered. "This stretch of road is notorious for them. They've been targeting travelers for weeks."
Alex's grip tightened on his sword. "What do we do?"
"We're outnumbered, so fighting head-on isn't smart. But we can't let them ambush us either." Marcus nocked an arrow, his movements swift and precise. "Follow my lead, stay sharp, and don't panic."
Alex swallowed hard and nodded.
Moments later, the bandits revealed themselves. A man with a long scar running down his face stepped onto the road, flanked by three others armed with crude weapons. Their smug expressions made Alex's stomach churn.
"Well, what do we have here?" the scarred man sneered. His voice was low and gravelly, laced with mockery. "A couple of greenhorn adventurers wandering where they shouldn't."
"Hand over your gear," another bandit chimed in, his grin revealing yellowed teeth. "And maybe we'll let you keep your lives."
Marcus smirked; his bowstring taut as he aimed an arrow at the scarred leader. "You really think we're just going to roll over for you?"
The bandits laughed; their confidence evident.
"Oh, I like this one," the scarred man said. "He's got spunk. Too bad it won't save him."
Before Alex could respond, Marcus released his arrow. It whizzed through the air and buried itself in the ground inches from the leader's feet. The bandits flinched; their laughter abruptly silenced.
"That was a warning," Marcus said, his tone cold. "The next one won't miss."
For a moment, the bandits hesitated. Then, with a growl of frustration, the scarred man barked, "Get them!"
The fight erupted in an instant.
Two bandits charged at Alex, their rusty swords raised. Panic surged through him, but he managed to block the first strike with his sword. The impact sent a jolt through his arms, but he held firm, gritting his teeth.
"Come on, Alex," he muttered under his breath. "You can do this."
Summoning his courage, Alex swung his sword in a wide arc. To his surprise, the blade connected, forcing one of the bandits to stumble back. The other hesitated, giving Alex a chance to press the attack.
Meanwhile, Marcus was a whirlwind of precision and efficiency. He loosed arrow after arrow, each one finding its mark. A bandit fell clutching his leg, another dropped his weapon and fled into the trees.
"Behind you!" Marcus shouted.
Alex spun just in time to see the scarred leader lunging at him with a dagger. Instinct took over. Raising his free hand, Alex felt a surge of energy course through him. A burst of light erupted from his palm, striking the leader and sending him flying backward.
The remaining bandits froze, their confidence shattered.
"What the—? He's a mage!" one of them yelled.
The two remaining bandits turned and fled, leaving their unconscious leader behind.
As the dust settled, Marcus approached Alex, a look of surprise on his face. "Not bad for a newbie," he said, clapping Alex on the shoulder.
Alex barely registered the compliment. He stared at his hand, which still tingled with residual energy. "That... wasn't normal, was it?"
"Nope," Marcus replied, crouching beside the unconscious leader. "You've got magic, my friend. And not just any magic—powerful magic."
Before Alex could respond, Marcus frowned, pulling a folded piece of parchment from the bandit leader's pocket.
"What's that?" Alex asked, stepping closer.
Marcus unfolded the parchment, his expression darkening as he read. "It's a bounty poster. And guess what? Your face is on it."
Alex's stomach dropped. "What?"
Marcus handed him the poster. Sure enough, there was a crude sketch of Alex's face, along with the words:
WANTED: The Chosen One. Alive. Reward: 50,000 gold.
"Looks like someone important knows who you are," Marcus said grimly. "And they want you bad."
Alex's mind raced. Who could be behind this? How did they know about him? He'd only just arrived in this world.
"We can't stay here," Marcus said, rising to his feet. "If these guys found you, others will too. And something tells me they won't all be as incompetent as this lot."
Before Alex could respond, a low, guttural growl echoed from the forest. Both men froze, their eyes darting to the treeline.
"What was that?" Alex whispered, gripping his sword tightly.
Marcus's face paled. "Not good. Definitely not good."
From the shadows emerged a pack of Dire Wolves—massive creatures with glowing red eyes and fangs that gleamed in the sunlight. Their muscles rippled beneath their fur as they circled the duo, their growls deep and menacing.
"Wolves?" Alex asked, his voice shaky.
"Dire Wolves," Marcus corrected, his voice barely above a whisper. "And they're a whole lot worse."
The largest of the pack stepped forward, baring its teeth as it let out a bone-chilling howl.
"Well," Marcus said, drawing his bow. "This day just keeps getting better.