The ruins to the west lay silent, cloaked in the fading orange of the sinking sun. Half–crumbled towers leaned against one another, like old men refusing to fall. It was here that Renn, the wandering bard, arrived alongside his companions—the swift-footed Bunnymen scouts. Their ears twitched nervously as the wind whistled through hollow stone arches.
"Tracks," whispered one of the Bunnymen, crouching low. He brushed aside the dust and revealed the outline of heavy boots. Renn narrowed his eyes. The marks were fresh.
They pressed deeper into the ruins, moving from shadow to shadow until they spotted movement ahead. A group of bandits had made camp in the courtyard of a toppled temple, its once-majestic statues now shattered across the ground.
The campfire's glow revealed dozens of figures—rough men and women clad in mismatched armor. Supplies were being stacked, and an air of confidence hung over them, as though they had claimed this place as their own.
From the center of the camp, a massive man with broad shoulders approached the leader. His voice rumbled like a drum.
"The area's cleared, boss. No beasts around."
The leader turned, revealing himself beneath a torn black cloak. His skin bore the unmistakable hue of dusk—grayish, smooth, his features sharp and refined. Long, white hair cascaded down his shoulders, and his crimson eyes gleamed with authority.
The system interface flickered before Renn's eyes.
[System Appraisal]
Name: Veynar Duskbane
Race: Dark Elf
Class: Bandit Warlord (Tier 3)
Level: 42
Abilities: Shadow Step, Twin Blades Mastery, Ruthless Command
Threat Level: High
Renn's grip tightened on his lute. "A Dark Elf… this explains their boldness."
Carefully, he drew from his satchel a smooth, glassy orb no larger than his palm. Arcane runes shimmered inside as he held it up. He whispered softly, and the orb pulsed with pale light.
A feminine voice answered, cool and commanding.
"Report, Renn."
"Master Lyra," Renn said with a bow of his head, even though she could not see him. "A bandit group has entered the western ruins. Led by a Dark Elf named Veynar. They've established camp."
On the other end, silence reigned for a moment. Then Lyra's voice came, sharp with analysis.
"They are not the cause of the earlier disturbances. Still… such a group cannot be ignored. Test them. Attack, but do not be reckless. Let us see how they react."
"As you command, Master Lyra." Renn tucked the orb away and turned to the Bunnymen. Their bows were already drawn.
"Loose!"
Arrows rained down from the shadows. Three bandits fell instantly, clutching their throats and chests. Chaos erupted in the camp. Renn strummed his lute, unleashing waves of resonance that amplified the Bunnymen's speed. Their movements blurred, arrows flying faster, sharper.
The bandits scrambled for cover, some firing back with crossbows. Veynar rose to his full height, twin blades flashing in the firelight.
"Cowards in the dark? Face me if you dare!"
The Dark Elf's voice carried like a whip, rallying his men. They tightened formation, shields raised. Renn's notes turned sharp, releasing dissonant chords that cracked the earth and made torches flicker wildly.
Still, the bandits were numerous and hardy. The initial ambush had cut them, but not crippled them. Veynar shouted commands, and soon the bandits began to push back, pressing toward Renn's hidden position.
Renn cursed under his breath. "Stronger than expected…" He signaled the Bunnymen. "Fall back!"
They vanished into the ruins, arrows snapping at their heels. The bandits pursued, hot with anger.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the terratory Walls, Theo and Flint were locked in their own training session. Flint, covered in green scales, crushed a goblin's skull beneath his claws. Theo wiped sweat from his brow, panting, his wooden practice sword smeared with monster blood.
Then, distant echoes of shouting and steel reached their ears. Theo's head snapped toward the west.
"You hear that?"
Flint's ears twitched. "Bandits."
Without hesitation, they sprinted toward the sound. Soon, shadows emerged—half a dozen bandits had split from the main group, chasing in their direction.
Theo raised his weapon. "No choice, Flint. We fight!"
The clash was brutal. Theo ducked beneath a sword swing, countering with a slash across a bandit's side. Flint leapt, claws raking across another's chest. But their enemies were well-armed and disciplined.
One bandit nearly skewered Theo from behind—only for Flint to thrust his scaled arm in the way. The blade sank into his flesh, drawing blood. Flint roared in pain but held firm.
"Flint!" Theo shouted, eyes wide.
"Focus!" Flint growled. "Win first, worry later!"
Fueled by anger, Theo struck with renewed fury. Together, through grit and desperation, they managed to cut down the last of the attackers. But both were bloodied, and Flint's arm hung limp.
"We… we need to fall back," Theo gasped.
They retreated toward the terratory Walls. Bandits gave chase, but as soon as they crossed the boundary, snarling Kabolt guards descended upon the intruders. Teeth and claws ripped through the remaining bandits. One survivor broke free, fleeing into the night, screaming.
Inside the walls, Kairo paced anxiously until Theo and Flint stumbled in. His eyes immediately went to Flint's wound.
"You idiot, you took a blade for him!"
Flint shrugged weakly. "Better me than him."
Kairo quickly bandaged the wound, forcing Flint to rest. Theo sat nearby, guilt etched on his face.
"It should have been me. I wasn't fast enough."
"Enough," Kairo said firmly. "You both lived. That's what matters."
When Theo explained about the bandits, Kairo's face darkened. Shiri, standing nearby, crossed his arms, expression grim.
"First the ruins stir, now bandits arrive. We cannot afford to wait. They will come for us next."
Kairo nodded. "Then we prepare. This time, not against monsters—but against men."
Far away, Renn and the Bunnymen caught their breath in the shadows. The bard pulled out the orb once more.
"Master Lyra. We've discovered something… a fortified territory. Defenses unlike any bandit camp. It belongs to a lord."
Lyra's amused voice flowed through the orb.
"a lord… interesting. If he can withstand the bandits, he may yet prove worthy of recognition. Do nothing for now. Watch, and let fate test him."
Renn exhaled, both relieved and unsettled.
Back at the bandit camp, the lone survivor who had escaped the Kabolt stumbled into Veynar's presence. His face was pale, his eyes wide with terror.
"Boss… the ruins… monsters! They—they slaughtered everyone! I barely made it back!"
The camp fell silent. Veynar rose, his crimson gaze narrowing.
"monsters, you say? Then these ruins hide more than stone and dust. Prepare yourselves. We march at dawn."
The fire crackled as night fell, the stage set for the clash yet to come.