Advent of Eternity - Chapter 49 (Patreon)

They split off to dig through the tents. Despite Knell’s best efforts, he couldn’t find a single clue. Every single tent seemed to have the exact same contents. A rucksack, some basic supplies, and a badly made sword.

He reconvened with the others, but neither had any more success than he had.

“You sure this is the right camp?” Stix asked. “I mean, maybe there were more bandits in the area and we just stumbled across the wrong ones.”

“That’s a possibility,” Knell admitted. “But I feel like these guys had similar equipment to the other ones. I doubt there was another group involved in this. But I have absolutely no idea where the villagers could be.”

“Isn’t it weird these guys didn’t have a leader?” Cyll asked. “I mean, since when do bandits go by democracy?”

Knell’s brow furrowed further. “They didn’t strike me as particularly smart either. Then… hm. I wonder if their leader was out somewhere, and he took the prisoners with him? That would account for my miscalculation in timing as well.”

“How are we supposed to find the bugger?” Cyll asked.

Knell nodded at the tents. “If he does exist, I’d imagine he’ll be coming back to his camp at some point in the near future. This is as good a spot as any to wait.”

And so they did. The three piled into one of the tents near the center of the camp and, with Stix peeking out the opening to keep watch, sat down to wait.

Minutes turned to an hour. Knell’s foot twitched impatiently as the wasted seconds echoed in his head mockingly, but he ignored it. Time spent laying a trap was not wasted. At least, if he thought about it like that enough, he could try to convince himself it was true.

A distant gallop nearly brought him to a relieved sigh. He cocked his head, listening to the hoofbeats closely.

“Six men,” Knell whispered. “I think. Too far away to tell for sure. They’ll probably look around to see what happened when it becomes clear that it’s been at least an hour since the men were killed.”

“Do we jump them?” Cyll asked.

“Just make sure they’re bandits before you attack,” Knell replied. “I don’t want to find out we’ve attacked some small village’s local guard. If they’ve got the same armor, go for them. Stix will stay in the background and pick off the ones not paying attention while I run support.”

Cyll nodded. “On your command, then.”

Angry mutters reached Knell’s ears, and he heard a thump as someone slipped off their horse and slid to the ground somewhere in the center of the camp, not too far away from them. The snorts and whineys coming from the area gave the other horses away as well.

Metal jangled as the other men started to get off their mounts. Knell nodded to Cyll. This would be the best time to attack – while they were busy trying to get down. Cyll slipped out of the tent, lifting his sword and charging forward as soon as his eyes locked on a target.

Stix slid her dagger through the tarp at the back of their tent, cutting it open and sliding out. Knell followed after her and the two looped around as yells started to ring out again. There was a loud crash followed by a meaty thunk.

Knell peeked around a corner to watch Cyll rip his sword free of a half-mounted bandit’s chest. The man’s body tumbled to the ground as his five companions readied their weapons and ran into a formation.

Four of them stood in the front, surrounding a thin, hawkish man carrying a small orb.

“That’s the leader,” Knell whispered to Stix, indicating the thin man. He set his mental clock for two minutes, not willing to give his opponents any more of his time – not that they could take it. “Target him, but wait for an opportunity. I’m going to Anchor you, so remember that you’ve only got a minute before you get pulled back to this exact spot.”

Stix nodded. Knell touched her back, sending a pulse of green magic into her body. The spell was the strongest one he knew, and a wave of weariness tickled the back of his mind as soon as it left his hand. Knell shook his head and nodded to Stix, who darted off.

Meanwhile, Cyll had charged forward and engaged the bandits. Three of them had formed a triangle around him, while the last kept close to the thin leader, who had faint whisps of red magic starting to swirl around his hands.

A bolt of molten flame leapt from the orb the thin man carried, searing across the ground and catching Cyll in the shoulder. It struck with such force that he spun and flew into a tent.

The spell had some serious power behind it. Knell’s eyes narrowed, but he kept hidden. There was no point giving away his position yet, especially with the strength of his opponent’s magic. It moved to fast for him to reasonably dodge, even with his foresight.

Cyll leapt out of the tent, taking a sword to the shoulder in the process. He roared, slashing at the man that had wounded him, but the bandit nimbly leapt back. As the other three encircled him, Knell noted that they displayed much more tactical ability than the previous bandits.

“Who are you?” one of them yelled. “What happened to our people?”

Cyll bared his teeth in a bloody grin and leapt at him. The bandit stabbed Cyll near the collarbone, driving his blade deep into his chest with what should have been a killing blow. Cyll didn’t even flinch as he brought his own sword up into the bandit’s groin, not stopping until it was halfway through his chest.

He kicked the bandit back, then pulled the sword out of his chest and tossed it to the side. The other two bandits kept their composure and ran back to their leader, who fired another blast of fire.

It burned a clean hole through Cyll’s stomach and threw him onto the ground. Cyll got back up, the wound already sealing shut.

“He’s got some sort of regeneration ability,” the leader warned. “Keep him away from me. I’ll burn it out of him.”

He snapped his fingers and the magic around him surged in power. The man channeled the spell for a moment longer, then whipped it toward Cyll.

A torrent of fire erupted from the sky above him, obliterating the ground where Cyll stood with a brilliant roar. Knell could feel the heat, even from where he stood. He raised a hand, squinting.

The spell was so loud that nobody noticed Stix slip up behind the thin man and slash at his neck. Her dagger clanged against something invisible and the spell sputtered to a stop. Stix didn’t hesitate and stabbed him in the chest – this time, the blade punctured flesh and he gasped in pain.

A bolt of fire shot from the man’s fingertips and struck Stix in the forehead. She crumpled, dead before she hit the ground. Knell’s blood ran cold. If he hadn’t Anchored Stix out of paranoia, she would have been dead.