"...Now you die."
The Bandit Boss grinned, lifting his bloody blade.
But before he could strike again—
"Reinforcement!"
A voice rang out across the battlefield.
From the edge of the forest, three cloaked figures emerged like shadows materializing from the void.
They walked calmly, their auras heavy—each step sending shivers down the spines of every remaining bandit.
The figure in the middle, bald with glowing silver eyes and a faint blue tattoo glowing on his neck, spoke without raising his voice:
> "Bandit Boss… this ends now."
The battlefield froze.
Even the Boss, drunk on blood and rage moments ago, staggered backward.
His eyes scanned the battlefield—and widened.
The three Grandmasters.
Each from a different noble family.
Each infamous.
Each impossible to stop.
And now, standing before him.
The Bandit Boss's bravado cracked.
He saw the broken, bloodied bodies of his most elite men—warriors from powerful bandit factions—scattered like fallen leaves.
He barked to his remaining men, voice breaking: "Forget the rest—kill those three!!"
But it was too late.
The first Grandmaster unsheathed his curved blade. In one flash, he cut three bandits apart like slicing melons.
The second Grandmaster—taller, dreadlocked, wearing black—moved through the enemy with his bare fists, breaking bones with a single punch.
The third—a lean, quiet man with sharp eyes—didn't even draw a weapon. He just moved, and people died.
The Boss turned and ran.
From behind him, he heard the voice of the first Grandmaster:
> "Cowards never live long."
The third Grandmaster shot forward to pursue.
---
The Boss ran, breath ragged, until he reached a cliff overlooking a narrow canyon.
Below, a deep river snaked through the rocks.
There was no path ahead.
He turned just in time to see the Grandmaster land silently behind him.
"Please…" he whispered. "Let me go. I'll vanish. I'll—"
But he wasn't allowed to finish.
SWOOSH!
The Grandmaster's blade sliced the air—missing the Boss's neck by 2 centimeters.
The Boss didn't hesitate.
He leapt off the cliff.
The Grandmaster stepped forward, peering over the edge.
> "Tch… slippery bastard."
Behind him, the other two Grandmasters had wiped out the battlefield.
Mia, bleeding but standing, walked over to the Grandmaster trio.
Her voice cracked, "You came… why?"
One Grandmaster smirked.
"We were bored."
The second added, "Heard this Bandit Boss was 'dangerous.' Thought we'd find a challenge."
The third one returned, shaking his head. "He jumped. Probably dead. No fight. Pity."
Mia's master clutching her severed fingers—bowed slightly. "You saved us. Thank you."
The silver-eyed Grandmaster waved her off. "We saved ourselves. We just did it faster."
Mia looked around.
No sign of Max.
She tensed. "Where's Max…?"
The third Grandmaster raised a brow. "The boy? I saw him."
He gestured toward the forest path.
"I was heading back when I sensed someone trailing the river. It was him. Said something about finishing his own mission."
"He didn't stop?" Mia asked, shocked.
"No," the Grandmaster said. "I warned him it could be dangerous. He ignored me and walked on."
Mia went silent.but mia know.
He wasn't trying to be a hero.
He was trying to prove something… maybe to himself.
And now, he was alone.