Chapter 1.2 (Patreon)

He took a step forward, his hand gripping the sword as memories bubbled inside his mind. For a second, Pyotr had reservations about killing; what if it was illegal? What if he got in trouble? What if people could get better with time? Should he turn the other cheek and just incapacitate? Risking his own life in the act?

Not in this place, not in this age.

“What is that sound . . .?” One of the bandits asked, approaching the cave.

“Probably she had her fill and left some of them alive; go double tap them,” another bandit said. They didn't want to deal with a half-dead person groaning and screaming all night while they camped outside their safe place.

After all, monsters in the forest would not come near this cave for an obvious reason.

Pyotr was hiding on the pile of corpses, waiting for the exact moment to attack. The second that he saw the bandit, a string of web twisted around the criminal's mouth, muffling any scream, as the young man sliced his neck.

A gush of blood covered the blue armor, getting drunk by the red webs decorating it as the young man stole the short sword in his hands. Before the bandit could fall on the ground, another was already entering the cave to see what all the commotion was about.

Pyotr dropped his dull sword, and using his free hand and new weapon, he shot another web to the roof, allowing him to jump forward with a dashing speed, and using his weight, he stabbed the other bandit in the chest.

Now, there were more enemies in front of him as they began to rush forward just to kill.

A barrage of bolts shot in his direction, but using the still-warm corpse in his arms, he blocked them and stole the crossbow he was holding.

With the flip of his finger, the weapon shot a bolt that went straight through one of the bandits charging toward him with a spear in the middle of his forehead. Pyotr had a few seconds before the rest could reload, and he needed to use them.

There was only one way out of this, and it was taking out the leader.

The second that the bandit with the spear fell to the ground, Pyotr rushed forward, grabbing the spear with one hand while using the stolen blade with the other.

Now that he was outside under the night sky, there was no rooftop for him to attach his webs to, and the trees were too far, so he needed to improvise.

“What the hell is that?!” A bandit yelled a second before the knight weaved and threw his blade in this direction, stabbing his shoulder and making him recoil in pain.

Three more bandits went to overwhelm Pyotr; he managed to stab another one with his spear, but this broke in two. Another one got hit on the back of the head by the blade that the young man retrieved with a firm pull on the web strings attached to its pommel.

The third one managed to get a hit with his mace on the boy's head.

Pyotr's vision went blurry for a second, his ears were ringing, and he felt his balance going off, but he managed to stay up. Using the chunk of wood that used to be a spear an instant ago, the knight stabbed that bandit on the neck, just to get pierced by a volley of crossbow bolts.

Right length, upper left shoulder, both forearms, and three more that pierced his torso but were unable to reach any vital organs.

The leader was now rushing toward him, a hatchet in one hand and a wooden shield in the other.

Pyotr tried to stab him, but the blade was blocked easily by the man's shield, and the axe struck him near his neck, sinking deep into the metallic silk and scratching his clavicle.

A sharp pain made him grit his teeth, but he clenched his fist again, and using his free hand, Pyotr struck the bandit's jaw with an uppercut.

Teeth flew all over the place as the big man fell to the ground, his jaw demolished by the super-strength punch coated in a steel gauntlet. However, it was not enough to knock him cold.

He quickly got up, trying to hit the knight with his shield, but Pyotr answered with a knee to the face that twisted the leader's nose into an unnatural angle.

Then, there was a second of pure silence while the bandits were still looking at that crazy armored guy that had just taken an axe cut and multiple bolts to his body, but he still kept fighting like nothing had happened.

The creature was just arching his metallic back, covered in blood, both his victims' and his own. Just as the bolts were shot at him, the man charged forward like a spider about to pounce on its prey.

A minute later, Pyotr was the last man standing, wounded but alive.