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[PR: Ash]

“How many are there, and what do they look like? Were they in full-fledged armor or just leather armor?” Roy asked.

“There were about twenty of them. All on horses,” said Donny. “And they wore colorful clothes. Their equipment wasn’t uniform. Surrounded the village Dorothy is in.”

“Bandits, then.” Frik paled, and he held his sword tighter. “Auckes is right. Bandits are worse than hyenas. They’d even sell excrement for coin if they could. Everywhere they go, destruction follows. Donny’s reminder came in time. We need to hide until the bandits are gone.”

Frik refused to help. Instead, he said, “Donny, can you stand guard for us? We’re just some poor refugees trying to leave. Can you tell us once the bandits are gone? I can trade some food with you.” He was going to hand the roots to Donny, but Donny backed off and scurried into his hole.

He hid himself in the shadow and glared at everyone stiffly, frustrated.

“See? You refused our request even when it’s infinitely simpler than what you asked of us.” Frik shook his head. “We just met, and you’re asking all of us to fight a group of bandits? We’re just three men and a bunch of women and children. Are all godlings that naive?”

Donny hung his head low, a hint of defeat filling his eyes.

“Why don’t we set up some traps and mount an ambush? Maybe that works?” Bavi said. He still had some sympathy left in his heart.

Frik hadn’t said anything yet, but Yugni held his arm. Worried, she said, “You’re going? Just because you killed some soldiers doesn’t mean you can deal with riders. They’re a lot tougher than beasts that can only fight with their claws and fangs. And smart enough to evade traps too. One attack, and you and your brother will be in Melitele’s court right away. I will not let you die.”

The ladies held their children’s hands, staring at them imploringly.

“I promised I’d marry you once we got to Mayena.” Yugni held Frik’s hand and raised her head. “And you’re going to make me a widow again? Even before we marry?”

“Um…” Frik was in a dilemma.

Suddenly, the witcher turned around and patted the brothers’ shoulders, then he looked into the distance. “Frik, Bavi, you guys find a hiding spot and lay low. I’ll handle this case. Donny can lead the way.” Hey, free EXP is free EXP. He gave the godling a look. “You heard me.”

“Can you do this alone, Auckes?” Donny was starting to hesitate, and he looked at the witcher closely. He’s lean, but not tall or strong. Can he even do this?

“Try me?” Roy grinned toothily. There was magic behind that smile, and Donny’s confidence surged. So did his courage.

“I know why you want to do this, Auckes,” Frik said, “but Donny said there’s twenty of them. That’s too many to deal with. You’re signing a death warrant here. You still have a girl waiting for you.”

“Oh, I know what I’m doing. If it’s too dangerous, I’ll come back right away,” said Roy calmly, imperiously.

“Save Dorothy, and you shall gain a friend in me.” The godling climbed back out and beckoned at Roy before he could change his mind, then he darted into the bush ahead. Even though he was petite and hunched over, he was nimble, and he ran as fast as a hare.

“You guys should hide in the bushes and start counting the time. I will be back in two hours at most. Do not come out from hiding, you hear?” Roy looked into the brothers’ eyes. He whistled, and a sparrow hawk flew down into his hood. He left the dog with the kids for a while.

******

Roy followed the godling, darting across the shrubs, leaping through the fallen logs, and wading through the waist-deep grass. They ran like beasts, and Donny let out a guttural roar from time to time. Every time he did, beasts would appear from the woods, following him around. Stray dogs, deers, and stags. Some sparrows even nestled themselves inside his hair.

He was like a beastmaster playing with his pets.

Fifteen minutes later, they came to a village. It had a few dozen wooden houses, a warehouse, and a big circle of fence surrounding it, though the fence was mowed down by horses. Around the village were fields filled with turnips and greens, ready for harvesting.

Hoof marks covered the mud path leading into the village, and the corpse of a man lay at the entrance. He wore nothing but a grey shirt, and a bloody gash adorned his back. The witcher looked into the distance and saw a trail of smoke billowing into the air, floating past the hay. He tasted the scent of flesh and blood. Must be holding a barbecue, those bandits.

The beasts around Donny started to growl.

“Tell your pets to pipe down.” Roy leaned into the grass.

A group of riders came to the entrance. They were equipped with swords, spears, axes, and hammers. Their heads were covered with nothing but crude leather helms, and their outfit was almost gaudy. It was obvious they looted their gear from fallen soldiers of the north. These bandits were whistling and yelling as they circled the village. Then they charged into some random houses. This went on for a while.

Behind their horses were bloodied people tied together. Judging from the clothes, they were regular villagers. Some had died, while some were barely hanging on. The horses dragged them across the ground, the friction almost burning their flesh, and they whimpered.

The riders did nothing but laugh and cheer. This was but a game to them. The sight of this cruelty riled the godling up. His face fell, and he gnashed his teeth, his body shivering in fury, and he clawed away at the ground, as if that alone could crush these bastards. “Villains! Cankers! Animals! Auckes, what can we do? We must save them!”

“You think your girlfriend is still alive?” Roy calmly grabbed the air, producing a steel sword. “You know what you should do? Avenge her.”

And then a woman’s scream cut through the air. A young lady with a ponytail came running to the village’s entrance, shouting in terror. A rider was chasing her, teasing her. He catcalled and leaned over to grab her. Then he lay her out on his lap like she was some trophy. No matter how much she fought, she could not break free. The rider laughed loudly, the look in his eyes cruel, and then he turned around.

Ecstatic, Donny whispered, “She’s alive!” He gave Roy as many looks as possible.

Roy pointed beside him, and the flame atronach leapt out of the portal of Oblivion. At the same time, the clone of Roy appeared beside the witcher, taking Gwyhyr from him. The minions along with Gryphon the Sparrowhawk quickly got in the way of the riders. “Keep an eye on the exit and don’t let anyone escape. I’ll kill that guy and save your friend.”

“Are these your friends? And who are you killing?” Donny looked dumbfounded, but he gained no answer.

Roy disappeared into thin air and appeared on the roof of a house a few dozen yards away, crouched and observing his surroundings.

Donny watched on in stunned silence, then he looked at the critters around him and gulped. “How am I supposed to guard the entrance?”

******

Roy looked around. About two dozen riders spread across the village. Some are having a barbecue in the center of the village. The riders were spinning their meat over open flames, turning the skin golden brown. Fat dripped into the flames, and the aroma of meat wafted into the air.

A few other riders were dragging the girl into a house. They tore off her apron and tossed her onto a haystack.

***

An excited Fahdina was breathing heavily, much like a dog in heat. This was the peak of his life. He joined the Battle of Sodden Hill, and it was then, the Nilfgaardians burned down his house, took his wealth away, and killed his family.

Fahdina was just a soldier who wanted to protect his homeland, but when he came home from the war, he was left with nothing, but it mattered not. The nadir of his life put his mind in the right place, freeing it from all the shackles and fetters. This war-torn land, covered in the blood of so many people, was where he would rebuild a life of wealth. He unleashed his inner beast and gathered similarly cruel people among the refugees, and they started looting and pillaging the people.

He swore he would take back what the southerners took from him. Once he was free from the repercussions of law and morality, Fahdina saw a different life. He enjoyed it. He had all the women, coins, wines, and meats he wanted. These weaklings who can’t even defend their own homeland have no right to land or family. We fought for this land. We faced death, and yet we gained nothing from it? That is not fair.

Over the course of a month, Fahdina and his bandits had looted three towns, making more coin than he could ever imagine. Before order came back to Sodden, they could do one last thing. After that, he would leave Sodden a rich man. Perhaps he would go to a city and restart his life. Buy a house and build a family.

With dreams lingering in his mind, he smiled, and he pounced at the woman on the hay.

And then his dreams were cut short. Fahdina was sent flying backward, the smile on his face wiped off. No, his face was destroyed. Smashed apart like a watermelon. The liquid within drenched his sneering company, and they too were dumbfounded.

Their faces fell, but there was nothing they could do. A crescent moon arced across the air, tearing their flesh apart. Blood fell from the halves of the bandits’ corpses, and their innards rained to the ground. Their blood splattered everywhere, but Quen deflected it.

The young lady—who had a mark on her face—watched in shock, her jaw dropping. She stared at the man who stood tall among the corpses. And then the headless corpse of Fahdina fell, his pants halfway taken off. A pool of blood spread underneath him like a flower.

Roy held up Aerondight and said, “Lay low.” He charged ahead and vaulted over the wall like a phantom. Then sounds of footsteps reached him.

“Who goes there? Halt!”

The bandits beside the grill heard the cries of their companions, and they turned around only to see a silhouette closing in on them at a blinding speed. Shocked, they picked up their weapons and charged at the attacker like madmen, trying to cut him down. They had massacred this village, and this place belonged to them.

Halfway through, a bolt flew through the air, and a breeze whistled past the bandits, raising goosebumps. And then they came face to face with the different-colored eyes of the witcher. There was murder in those eyes.

The witcher put his weight into his left leg and spun. The bandits tried to bring their steel down on the witcher, but a golden shield swatted them away. A crimson flash arced across the air, and cold steel sliced through the bones of the never-do-wells. Pain seared through their veins, and their bodies fell apart. The upper part flew ahead and fell facefirst, while the lower half of their bodies fell to their knees, facing the villagers they killed.

Roy made sure they atoned for their sins. Blood drenched the ground, the corpses’ innards slowly sinking into the soil. The bandits, in their death throes, clawed ahead, trying to cling on to dear life, but alas, death would not let them break free of its grasp.

***

The riders going around the village saw the bloodbath, and they roared in indignance, swinging their spears at the witcher. The witcher raised his crossbow, pulled a trigger, and disappeared right before their very eyes.

A silhouette zipped through the air, and the riders felt a cold chill whizz past their backs. Even their mounts felt impending doom raining down on them. A crimson moon flew past the air, slicing three riders into six like they were nothing. Their flesh could not stop the ever-advancing blade.

The horses and their riders were cut open like presents, blood and innards bursting into the air. The witcher stood among the carcasses, blood hanging onto him like glue, flowing down his skin. There were great and terrifying suckers behind him swinging around, and the witcher turned to the remaining bandits.

The riders stood in the clearing, pulling their horses away in horror. And they ran for their lives, their wish to battle extinguished by the horrifying deaths of their comrades. If that wasn’t enough, the sight of those tentacles was enough to drive them mad.

They didn’t even retrieve their stolen coins, lest this monster come after them. But no matter how fast they ran, the bolt was faster.

Roy fired off another bolt and followed wherever it took him. When he reappeared, it was before one of the riders.

The rider gritted his teeth, but he charged ahead, hoping he could trample the witcher. The horse ran ahead, stirring up a storm as it tried to mow down the witcher.

And then the witcher opened his mouth.

“Fus!” The shout was powerful, like currents of waves crashing against the reef. The rider ran headlong into the Shout, and he and his mount were sent flying backward. Everything around him spun, and then darkness claimed him. Forever.

***

The Shout made Donny shiver in fear, and he hid deeper in the shrubs, staring into the distance. Three dogs and that sparrowhawk were attacking a rider. The flaming woman managed to take down two riders with some fireballs, but she was mowed down by another rider. The clone with the blade disappeared right after he killed one rider, and the remaining bandits ran away.

***

The rider attacked by the dogs was dragged down from his mount, and he kicked the air, but it couldn’t stop his death.

***

The witcher appeared out of nowhere, shocking Donny, but when he noticed the girl beside him, delight filled his heart. “Dorothy! I knew you were alive!”

The girl who escaped her would-be assailant was firmly held by the witcher. Roy put her down, and she embraced the godling, crying. “Collie and Gregory’s gone. Everyone’s dead! I-I was hiding in the cellar, but they managed to find me!”

“It’s alright. I’m here. Donny’s here.”

“Did anyone escape?” Roy asked coldly.

“Four of them. They went into the woods.”

Dammit. Roy pulled the trigger and blinked toward the group of refugees, and when Donny blinked again, Roy was already a few hundred yards away.

“W-Who is that man, Donny? Is that magic?” Curiosity and fear lit up Dorothy’s eyes.

“I-I don’t know. He’s strong, but he’s kind.” The godling nodded, as if to assure himself that was the case.