The fields along both sides of the road had been trampled into ruin by bandits and horses alike, but Zac didn't spare them a glance.
To him, as long as villages existed, there would always be food. Fields were meant to be worked by those useless weaklings who couldn't even lift a blade. This world had never lacked people. He'd understood that long ago — humans were like roadside weeds. Cut them down, and they'd grow back again. Impossible to exterminate.
Even in a hellhole like the far north of the Freljord, tribes still managed to survive. Compared to that, the fertile south was paradise.
Watching the cooking smoke curl up from Nohr Village, Zac issued an order to the mounted bandit leader.
"You — take a hundred men into the village. Drive the villagers out. Kill anyone who resists."
"Heh heh, got it, Boss Zac. Leave it to me!"
The mounted leader grinned viciously, spurred his horse, and roared over his shoulder.
"A hundred of you! We're going in first! Let's loot them dry!"
"OOOHH!!"
The bandits surged forward, scrambling over one another, terrified of missing out on the first taste of slaughter.
Zac frowned at the disorderly charge but said nothing. He only stopped a portion of the bandits who wanted to follow, already thinking about where they should go after this raid was finished.
---
"THE BANDITS ARE HERE!!! GET THEM!!!"
Before the bandits even reached the village entrance, the warning gong of Nohr Village rang out.
Young villagers roared as they pulled out wooden throwing spears strapped to their backs with cloth bindings. Mustering all their strength, they hurled the spears at the bandits flooding the entrance — then immediately turned and ran.
The bandits froze in confusion.
More than a dozen wooden spears tore through the air. Several bandits were struck on the spot, collapsing and losing the ability to fight.
"Damn it! Is this really an ambush? Our bandit group getting ambushed by a bunch of mud-legged villagers?!"
Watching companions just meters ahead get impaled and scream in agony, the mounted leader scanned the fleeing villagers. Seeing no sign of Noxian soldiers, his anger exploded.
"They dare fight back?! Kill them all!!!"
The order was almost pointless. Before he finished shouting, the bandits were already charging red-eyed after the villagers.
"Run! They're killing people!"
Throwing axes and arrows flew toward the fleeing villagers — but like ghosts, they vanished in the blink of an eye.
Screams echoed from different directions, horrifying and desperate, as if death were imminent.
Yet the wooden spears never stopped coming.
Again and again, spears struck down bandits nearby. Blinded by rage, they believed they could catch these unarmored peasants, plunge blades into their bodies, and vent their fury.
Only after the mounted leader himself charged forward did he realize something horrifying.
The bodies on the ground — the wounded and the dead — were all bandits.
Where were the villagers whose screams had sounded so real?
A sense of dread crept in.
"Stop chasing! Fall back! FALL BACK!!!"
In the end, out of a hundred men, barely twenty staggered back alive — all wounded. Those injured in the legs didn't make it out at all.
"Those villagers are like eels — can't grab them! Every time we almost catch one, more of them throw those damned sticks! Boss, let's charge back in! Call the cavalry! I swear we'll slaughter them today!!!"
"Slaughter my ass! Look at the state we're in! Pull back and wait for Lord Zac's orders!"
The decision made, the survivors retreated without hesitation.
The villagers' voices faded. No pursuit came.
Only the wounded bandits remained screaming — until blades silenced them.
The corpses, dropped weapons, and leather armor scattered on the ground vanished soon after, leaving only pools of blood behind.
---
"Bandits raid villages so often that, in their eyes, villagers are nothing more than livestock — humanoid animals that won't fight back, free to kill at will.
"Like butchers slaughtering cattle. To a butcher, life and death are his to decide. If a beast dares injure him, his rage ensures he'll personally finish it."
On a small hill near the Grellwood foothills, beside the first trap, Lester spoke calmly to those behind him.
"Once villagers resist and actually injure them, the humiliation accumulated through a bandit's life drives them into blind rage. They instinctively chase down those who dared shame them.
"That leads them straight into our first trap — where villagers hidden around the perimeter use throwing spears to wear down their fighting strength, without ever exposing the Noxian levy concealed in the shadows."
Margaret spoke up.
"But what if they believe the villagers set this up themselves — and, in their rage, launch a full assault?"
"Then we cut off their heads and place them before the trap."
Lester's voice remained steady.
"We truly enrage them. Force them into the real killing ground. Break their morale in one decisive blow.
"Otherwise, they'll send even more men next time — advancing cautiously to wash away their shame. That's when our second trap comes into play.
"No bandit can tolerate being ambushed by villagers — unless he isn't a bandit, but a general who never loses.
"Margaret, remember this. No matter who your enemy is in the future, if circumstances allow, treat them as a life-and-death foe. Whether you succeed or fail, face the result honestly — never rely on luck."
"I understand, Lord Lester!"
---
Zac slapped the mounted leader across the face, sending two teeth flying.
"You're telling me you got ambushed by villagers and lost over seventy men to those mud-legged trash? What — did you spill your brains out jerking off last night?"
The sub-leader climbed up, face swollen, jaw clenched, air whistling through his broken teeth.
"I… I think someone capable is directing them from the shadows. Sir, maybe we should return and report to Chief Ottmann—"
"Capable? Capable my ass! You want me to tell the boss you idiots got butchered by villagers without seeing a single Noxian soldier? How do you think that makes me look?"
Zac kicked him back to the ground, his expression icy.
"If these peasants want to play, then we'll play properly."
Turning around, Zac barked his orders.
"Tear down village doors and use them as shields. Axe-throwers and crossbowmen advance in alternating cover with shield-bearers. Kill every villager you see.
"And stop lying there. Call back all your cavalry. Once the villagers attack us again, you lead the cavalry around and strike from the rear.
"No survivors. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!"