Chương 18: The Nameless Bandit

The sun was getting ready to set when the two guards led us to the edge of the village. Trees started to sprout here and there, making the landscape less flat.

"So then, we'll be leaving you here." One of them adjusted his grip on his spear.

"Do you need anything else?" Norman sighed.

"If possible, we'd like to ask for some backup. But that's probably asking too much, right?"

"Definitely." The other guard pointed at the tip of his spear.

"This is just a stick with a stone tied to it. For props."

"Right." Norman sighed again. One of the guards patted his shoulder.

"We're counting on you, man." The other one nodded. I also nodded. Norman looked at me. He didn't say anything.

"We'll be going, then." The guard released his shoulder, turned, and left with the other one. I waved back at them. Norman also turned, staring off into the distance with blank eyes.

"Maybe I should have declined…" I patted his back. Then I produced a beetle from somewhere. Not the rainbow beetle in my pocket, that was too beautiful to be eaten. I held it out to him.

"I'm already full." Norman raised his hand against it. I nodded and put it in my mouth instead. The crunching had a particular acoustic quality out in the open air. One that made Norman's featureless face distort slightly and made the human brain scream in indignation. I could actually taste it now: the juices, the savory bitterness, the things the human brain had spent the last days trying its best to filter out. The road stretched flat in both directions, visible for a considerable distance.

The fields on either side stood still in the late afternoon light, the crops throwing long shadows eastward. Lunak had told us this was supposedly where the handoff was going to happen. I looked around, wondering what exactly we were supposed to hand off. We have nothing, the human brain informed me. How can we hand off if we have nothing? We're going to trick the bandits. Isn't that lying? Yes. I moved in front of Norman.

"Lying is bad." He looked at me, but his eyes were distant.

"Sure." I planned to push further to prove my point, but I heard footsteps. I turned and automatically activated Hawk Eye. Since the ground was flat, I could see them clearly, all seven of them. The one at the front wore a red bandana and held a curved sword. I tapped Norman.

"What is it?" he asked. I pointed forward. His eyes sharpened.

"I see. I trust you." He moved in front of me. As expected, they arrived. The one with the bandana looked at me. He looked at the rock. He looked at the road behind me. He looked at everything except Norman. He looked back at me.

"Where are the goods?" I looked behind me. I confirmed again that there were indeed no goods to be found. I looked back at him.

"None."

"Why you—" he started.

"Hey. I'm also here." Norman drew his sword. The bandit's eyes snapped to him.

"Whoa! Since when were you there? Are you an assassin?" Norman sighed.

"We're adventurers. Leave the villagers alone." The bandit looked at him. Then he laughed. Behind him, the other six found this contagious. The laughter lasted approximately three seconds. He turned to the other six. The laughter stopped. The smallest bandit, a wiry boy with a slingshot, stared at the ground.

"Sorry, boss." The boss turned back to Norman.

"Listen, pal. We don't want trouble. Walk away." Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

"Sorry, we can't do that." Norman kept his sword level.

"We already accepted the quest." The boss put a hand on his hip, stared at the ground, and sighed.

"You adventurers are all the same. Can't just let a guy work."

"Boss, want us to handle him?" one of the bandits offered. The boss rolled his shoulders once.

"This one thinks he's somebody." He raised his own blade, almost lazily: a curved sword, its edge chipped in a dozen places.

"Let's see if he's right." Norman glanced at me.

"I would appreciate it if you could provide a diversion so I could use Ignore." I tilted my head. Norman sighed.

"Never mind." He charged. The curved sword caught Norman's strike and redirected it. He recovered, reset his feet, and came again. Steel rang against steel. I found the sound almost pleasant, in the same way certain beetles made a satisfying click when they were ready to be eaten. The boss gave ground, then didn't. He turned Norman's next strike aside with a flick of his wrist and answered with a low cut aimed at the knee.

Norman stepped back just far enough to let it pass, then closed the distance again before the boss could reset.

"Not bad." The boss's grin didn't waver, but something behind his eyes sharpened.

"Most adventurers who wander into this territory don't last three exchanges."

"Is that a warning, since it's only the second exchange? Or you don't know how to count?" Norman rarely spoke this much during a fight, but it made sense. I nodded and looked at his opponent. It was unfortunate that he didn't have someone like Eris to teach him how to count. Norman came in low, feinted high, and the boss bought it for half a second. It was long enough for the real strike to catch his shoulder. The boss stepped back, rolled his bleeding shoulder, and laughed.

"Shut up, smartass." They circled, watching each other intimately. Then they came together again, the way two herons might circle the same fish before deciding it wasn't worth the fight after all. I finished my beetle and looked around for another one. Behind their boss, the six bandits watched.

"Get him, boss!"

"Don't let him show you up!"

"He's actually decent, boss, be careful!" This last one earned a glare from the leader that briefly interrupted the fight. Norman used the interruption.

"Ignore." The bandit leader looked back. Norman was still there, but his eyes moved across the clearing, not landing on the one he was looking for. Norman's slash came directly from the front. The blade caught the leader across the chest, sending him back three steps.

"Boss!" The six took a collective step forward. The leader raised a hand without looking at them.

"This is a duel between men. Are you trying to embarrass me?" The six stopped. They found the ground very interesting all of a sudden. Their boss straightened. Blood dripped from his chest. He raised his sword. The grin came back, wider than before.

"Are you sure you're not an assassin?"

"Unfortunately, I'm just a swordsman," Norman answered.

"I found that hard to believe." The boss charged. Behind Norman, I had found another beetle and was attending to it properly. Norman risked a glance back.

"Could you at least cheer for me?" I looked at him. I looked back at the beetle and ate it. It tasted exactly how I remembered it. Norman returned to the fight. But a sword was already raised above him. He got his own sword up in time to catch it. A boot came in next, landing on his stomach and sending him flying, despite not having wings. He hit the ground and skidded for a few meters. The bandits cheered louder. I looked at Norman pushing himself slowly off the ground. Is this perhaps my fault?

Of course it is, the human brain answered. [Definitely.] It was a unanimous decision. I moved my hand to the bow at my back to compensate. The little bandit had already drawn his slingshot, aimed at me. It held a rock. I wondered if it was somehow related to my rock. I stopped. The little bandit lowered his slingshot slightly. I moved my hand. The slingshot snapped back up. I nodded and decided to look at Norman instead. Norman and the boss had gone back to exchanging blows.

I decided to watch a little longer, in case my assistance was actually needed, and risk being shot by a rock. A few more exchanges passed. Then the bandit slung his sword at his shoulder and looked at Norman.

"You're not bad, pal. What's your name?" Norman kept his sword up.

"Norman. How about you?"

"Norman, huh. What a boring name." The bandit stepped forward.

"I'm—" A sword came through his chest. He looked down at it. Then he looked back. Behind him was a man. Slim, long blond hair, and a face that made a far better landmark than Norman's. The man pulled his sword free with elegance, and the leader went down. The remaining bandits looked at this development. They ran. All except the small one. He yelled, aimed his slingshot at the man, and released the rock. The man tilted his head, then clicked his tongue.

"Hey, brat. What if you accidentally hit this face? Your death wouldn't be enough to make up for it." The kid flinched and took a step back. The man kicked off the ground and was in front of him. He was probably the fastest human I'd ever met. Norman moved between them and blocked the strike. He glanced at the small bandit.

"Go." Tears welled up in the kid's face.

"But—""Go!" Norman yelled. The kid gritted his teeth. He turned and ran.

"Not bad. Who are—" The man started. Norman looked back at him, swords still locked the way two deer's antlers tangled when they fight.

"Jett?"

"What are you doing here? Father is looking for that ignorable face of yours." Jett didn't disengage, but pushed harder.

"How about you? Why aren't you wearing a mask? I thought you inherited father's position as the next leader of the Assassin Guild."

"Wear a mask and hide this beautiful face? Are you kidding me?"