The Elder Lands

Chapter 16

“Bandits?” asked a perplexed Sir Wolfe.

“Aye,” the younger man-at-arms answered, pointing in the direction they’d come from. “That way.”

“How many?” the knight said.

“We’re not certain, Sire,” the older one said. “We saw tracks and followed them. They had sentries who spotted us, then we had to flee.” He looked accusingly at his younger partner as he said the last part. “We saw four guarding a camp. They weren’t very well armed.”

“Gods damn The Shattered Kingdom and all its fools,” Sir Wolfe groused. He stood thinking silently for a moment then gestured towards the direction the beasts had come from. “We seal the Break first. Then we handle these bandits. They can’t get very far.”

His men nodded and followed him as he headed in the direction he’d indicated, Lucan and Lee on their tail.

Lucan was cursing much more than the knight under his breath. It wasn’t enough that he had to fight with everything he had today and dodge death by a hair. There were still bandits to fight. As they walked, he gestured for Lee that he was going to quickly check his Blessing. The latter nodded and kept an eye out.

Lucan didn’t intend to jump into the next fight, whatever it may be, without consolidating what he’d earned into real power. He had five Vital Orbs, and to get to Copper III Physique, he only needed three. He should also improve one of his Skills, lest he finds himself in a tight spot without anything in hand. Which one was obvious. While Wraith Strike had many upsides, he needed something that would keep him alive when his enemies favored him dead. So he would improve the Star. Only one level though. He would have to explain himself to his father even with this little going into Skills.

His mind decided, he put three Vital Orbs into his Physique. Instantly, a tingling sensation pervaded his body, making him lose his gait and stumble while walking even though they were going through a relatively flat area. Lee assisted him, and Lucan persevered, putting one Vital Orb into his Star Skill next. It remained to be seen how much improvement he’d get out of one level aside from the additional daily use. He checked the manifestation of his Blessing after he was done.

Race: Human

Level: 3

Vital Orbs: 1

Mind and Body

Physique: Copper III 0/10

Spirit: Basic 0/1

Skills (0) 0/100

(Passive) Swordsmanship lv21: Journeyman

(Hybrid) 7-Point Star Dance lv3: Novice (0/1)

(Active) Wraith Strike lv2: Novice (0/1)

He looked at the significant cost needed to enhance his Physique to Iron. The costs were no secret when it came to the earlier stages. He’d already known that he had a long road ahead of him.

The party moved by the area where the beasts had burrowed out of the ground. Light brown dirt was scattered on top of the darker topsoil, with small open craters where the beasts had come out. They had burrowed through the dirt from somewhere deeper in the forest, where their Outbreak had started. That was where their group would be going.

It wasn’t long before they came by a sight Lucan had read much about but had never seen. The soil, with all its layers, had been pushed open in one long line. As the party came up to the mounded dirt on the sides of the Break and looked into the opening, they saw the cracked open bedrock below and an abyssal darkness was greeting them through it.

The opening and the crack weren’t very big. They were perhaps three or four yards long, just enough for the beasts to slowly scamper their way up onto the surface. Though the ones they’d fought didn’t seem to enjoy the surface too much as they’d stayed burrowed in the dirt until they’d had to engage them.

Sir Wolfe took out a cloth bundle from within his armor. He opened it, taking out a piece of gray bark as big as his hand, a splinter of the Elder Root. He found a spot in the dirt around the crack where it could settle and placed it there. As soon as it touched the ground, roots sprouted out of it, spreading into the surrounding soil and bedrock. The speed at which it spread unsettled Lucan who felt that he was looking at something alive.

The roots began hair-thin, then thickened over time until they became as thick as ropes. Soon, they had multiplied and expanded enough to seal most of the break. A small grey sapling grew upward from the roots.

The men at arms began burying the roots with the surrounding mounded dirt while Sir Wolfe, Lucan, and Lee watched. In a few days, the sapling would begin killing any trees or vegetation close to it. It was a small price to pay to prevent the Break from spewing out more beasts though. The sapling couldn’t do what its parent tree could, which was suppressing Outbreaks altogether, but it could easily seal these small Breaks when used appropriately.

Once the men were done, Sir Wolfe picked out the two that had found the bandit camp and commanded them to lead the rest of them there.

The two men-at-arms did as they were told, and the party crept through the forest towards their next fight.

The sun was at its zenith when they finally reached the area where the two men had spotted the camp. Sir Wolfe commanded everyone to get on the ground as soon as they began hearing noises, then he gestured for one of his more lightly armored men to creep forward, take a look, then report back. The man obliged, creeping through the brush and disappearing

He soon came back, informing the knight that there were at least seven sentries standing watch now. He had failed to get a closer look because the bandits had been alert since they’d been roused earlier by the other two men-at-arms.

“I see no chance to take them by surprise now,” Sir Wolfe whispered. “We spread out and charge them on my command.” He began pointing out where he wanted each pair of them to be. “Charge when you hear my shout.”

Lucan and Lee were paired up together and put near the center of their wide half-circle. The rest of the men were getting into their positions when Lucan posed a question. “Are we all certain to hear Sir Wolfe when he yells?” He’d hate to fall behind or only hear it when the fighting started. He wasn’t eager to go into combat, but none of them could abandon the knight’s flank when he was relying on them to watch it.

Old Lee chuckled. “Fear not, Sir Wolfe has his own renown when it comes to war cries. You will see.”

The faint shuffling sounds that came from the positioning men around them died down, and soon a deathly quiet surrounded them. Lucan began hearing the pleasant sounds of singing birds along with some unpleasant ones from pests and insects in their surroundings. Beyond that, some human noise came from the direction they were to attack soon, though none of it was intelligible.

Before Lucan could indulge further in the calmness that commanded the vicinity, he heard an echoing, human roar rocking the forest. It was so loud that Lucan might have imagined it shaking the branches of trees.

“IN THE NAME OF THE KING, SURRENDER OR DIE YOU SONS OF WHORES!”

Lucan was stunned, and before he could make sense of what he’d heard, Lee was pulling him up onto his feet. They charged in the direction where the bandits would be, and as shrubs and trees were overtaken, they finally caught sight of the sentries.

They were dressed in plain cloth, some holding makeshift spears, others holding axes that didn’t seem made for war, and others were even armed with farming tools like hay forks.

The sentries, shocked by the warcry, dropped their weapons in a panic as soon as they saw the properly armed and armored men charging out of the forest. Some of them ran back to their camp and others fell to their knees begging for mercy.

It was so unexpected that Lucan stopped, dumbfounded. He couldn’t tell whether he should continue the assault or wait, though Lee had stopped beside him and hadn’t urged him to continue. Lucan searched with his eyes for Sir Wolfe and found him with his axe at a kneeling man’s neck, though he hadn’t killed him. Lucan walked up to the knight to pose an inquiry when he saw the man’s eyes fixed on the distant camp. Lucan followed it and saw men, women, and children gaping at the sight of their attackers, some trying to flee in panic.

“What in gods’ names…” Sir Wolfe mouthed.