Caracara's Hunt 32 Not Any Random Bandits

Screams rose into the air, but no one was bothered by them. Fire mages drew from the fires and sent b.a.l.l.s of flames toward the retreating archers, hurrying them away. One of them wasn't fast enough, and his clothes went ablaze.

He fell on his back, trying to extinguish it. The moment he did so, the earth beneath him opened up and trapped both his legs.

A few cheers came from the guards, but most of them remained silent and vigilant. The ambush couldn't have been that simple. Who would be stupid enough to think that the archers could wipe out mages?

Even if Arawn hadn't protected them from the first volley, they would've been fine. A number of people would have been injured, but few would have died.

"You're pretty good," Dres said from a few meters away. His head was turned toward the forest, but his eyes were on Arawn. "Where did you learn that?"

"Nowhere."

Arawn wasn't feeling good. He could sense the bloodshed that was about to come, and he had no way to stop it. Ether wasn't great at defense. The wall of light he'd created would shatter from a heavier punch, let alone an arrow. That was why its only purpose had been to slow the projectiles and derail them.

He looked around to ask Corwal what to do, but realized that the man wasn't around. He'd gone to bring water with a couple other mages and a lot of the caravaneers.

Deena rushed to the center of the wagons which had been moved into a circle for the night. "Protect the goods and the wagons! For every bandit killed, there's gonna be a bonus!"

This ignited the guards' spirit, and they raised their weapons with a shout. A few braver ones instantly jumped out of the wagon circle and rushed toward the forest. Their eyes were filled with manic glee.

"Idiots," some older man a few meters away from Arawn hissed under his breath. Noticing Arawn's gaze, he looked back at him. "You're not going to follow them, are you?"

Arawn shook his head. Death was his old companion, but he didn't like giving it gifts. As long as he could avoid murdering people, he'd do just that.

But it wasn't over that fast. A shrill scream came from the bushes which blocked their view, and Arawn recognized the voice of one of the people who had rushed forward. The blood curdling scream sent a shudder through many guards.

They focused their eyes on the bushes. In a few moments, a b.l.o.o.d.y figure stumbled out. There were three arrows sticking out of the man's chest. After a couple more steps, he stumbled, unable to carry his weight anymore, and fell. A long fiery gash blazed on his back.

The man tried to gurgle something out, but his mouth was full of blood. He spat, coughed, then choked. His eyes bulged out as he tried to take another breath, but could not do it.

"West, west! They're coming here!" someone shouted, kicking Arawn out of his reverie.

He turned away from the dying man and looked in the direction of the commotion. People were running opposite to where he stood, which probably meant he was on the east side. He thought to follow, but then hesitated. Wouldn't it be dangerous if all the other sides were left undefended?

"Just stay," the older man said, waving for him to keep still. "They'll have enough people there. We should make sure no one breaks through here."

"Agreed," Dres said.

Still crouching behind the wagon, he popped his head out to look at the forest. It was absent of movement, but for the last twitches of the dying man, and he pulled his head back.

"You should be exhausted," he told Arawn. "Sit down and take a rest. That thing you pulled, I wouldn't have thought it was even possible."

The older man nodded without moving his eyes away from the forest before them. "Thanks for that. I would've certainly been hit."

Arawn didn't say anything. Ether exhaustion was not a thing he had ever experienced, so he just allowed them to think whatever they wanted. He instead listened to the sounds of fighting from the other side.

There was no way to judge what was happening there, but the enemy didn't seem to be breaking through for the time being. b.a.l.l.s of fire whooshed through the air often enough, but water and wind mages were swift to extinguish any flames that landed on the wagons.

The two sides were exchanging projectiles, but few of them were made of metal and wood. Most whisked through the air as wind, fire, or water, with a few as pure ether.

"So many mages. They're not any random bandits," the old man said. He seemed to have been listening to the battle as well.

"Should've been obvious when they sent that first volley of arrows. All of our scouts were eliminated without making any sound." Dress frowned. He looked around for something, but didn't see it. "I wonder where's Asta and the two idiots."

On his words, the trio ran over from the east side. Their faces were flushed red, but they didn't look injured. Only one of the brothers had a singed shoulder plate.

"Finally found you!" Asta shouted out and fell near Dres. "What are you even doing here?"

"Guarding, what else?" he said while giving her a meaningful look.

The woman's eyes went wide and she nodded. "Right, right. We were playing cards in the wagon on the west when the attack happened. Before we even knew what was happening, twenty or more men dressed in green cloaks stepped out from the trees and sent a flame storm our way."

"Nasty sc.u.m," Horan muttered while patting his singed shoulder. "I'll have to get this repaired again."

"How is it?" the old man asked. "Can we hold?"

"Sure." Asta nodded.

More than a few breaths were taken in relief, and Arawn noticed that others around them were also paying attention. There were two women and one man within hearing distance. Smiles brightened their faces after hearing the news, and they turned to watch the forest once more.

It sounded great, but Arawn didn't have a good feeling about the proceedings. The dead scouts were one thing, but the enemy had attacked when Corwal wasn't around. This might be just a coincidence, but he doubted that.

Everyone knew that Corwal was their ace. Out of all the guards, he was the most well-trained and had most experience. His word was almost as strong as that of Deena.

And the attack came the moment he stepped out of the camp.

Had the caravan been followed? Could the bandits have some inside knowledge? It was too hard to believe that something this good for them would be only luck.

"Just rest. It's going to be fine," Dres said, coming a little closer. "The guards Deena hired are all professionals."

Arawn didn't answer, keeping his eyes on the forest. There was no movement among the trees or in the bushes. Everything seemed to be calm on this side, but he couldn't get rid of the bad feeling. Was there something he was missing?

"What's that?" a woman a bit away from them asked. She was pointing at something above the trees, and they all followed her finger.

Above the tree crowns, a sole ball of fire was flying. It went forward without hurry until it came to their camp. It hovered far over their heads for a moment, then burst into colorful lights. They crackled with a loud noise, and the fight well silent for a moment. Everyone stared above at the shining lights.

"Wha—" someone started to say, but their words were cut off by a m.u.f.fled scream.

Arawn twisted his head in that direction. He couldn't see anything besides one of the brothers crouching by the woman who was the first to notice the ball of fire. Feeling his eyes, the man turned and smirked at him, then pointed for him to look behind himself.

It was too late though. Cold metal touched his skin, breaking it. The blade went through his flesh and stabbed his heart. In a few moments, Arawn would be nothing more than another lifeless body on the ground.

"Sorry, I quite liked you kid. But you're that crazy man's friend and quite dangerous yourself too," Dres said while pulling back his dagger. He cleaned it on Arawn's clothes and stood up. "Let's go!" he shouted to his group.

Bright light blinded Arawn. He wanted to close his eyes, look away, but he was no longer seeing with his physical body. Ether was all around him, surging into him like a great ocean wave.

There was nothing but the ether around him. Or maybe he was ether too. It felt like they were one instead of him being part of the human body that lay crumpled on the ground.

Unlike the ether though, he could feel dread. It surged through him, and tears collected in his eyes, but he had no body. He could not weep for the souls that didn't know what they had unleashed upon themselves and their comrades.

As Dres jogged away to murder some more guards, he stopped and looked back. He was feeling some strange movement of ether behind him, which should have been impossible. They had killed all five people on this side.

When he turned back, he saw his men rushing out of the woods, droves of them, but it wasn't them who caught his attention. The pale youth he'd just killed lay dead on the ground with ether surrounding him. More and more of it gathered at a fast speed until there was so much that it was impossible to see.

At that moment, the youth pushed himself to a sitting position. He was facing away, so Dres could see the wound on his back knitting itself at a speed visible to the naked eye. Blood dried away and muscles joined together. New skin grew over it, leaving no scar to show that anything had ever happened. Only the torn shirt proved to Dres that he hadn't imagined stabbing the boy.

Then, the young man turned to him. Whatever Dres had expected to see, it wasn't what he got.

The youth's eyes were two blazing fires. His skin was pale to begin with, and now it shone with light from inside. It was hard to judge his expression with all the glaring light, but Dres could swear it held pure, undiluted malice. There was nothing there of the young man he'd come to know in the couple days they had traveled together.

"Run!" Dres hollered at his companions who stood frozen with open mouths.

"What is that?" Asta asked, her voice a shaky whisper.

The young man shone like he was about to self-destruct, but Dres didn't put much hope in that. The murderous aura he felt was too strong for a suicidal attempt. He had no idea what the youth was doing, but it was certainly nothing good for him.

That was why he just turned and ran. Moments later, his group followed after him.

A low growl came from the youth, and something whooshed behind them. Dres fell to the ground on instinct, but the others weren't fast enough. They were cut in half by a single blade of ether which was larger than any Dres had ever seen. It was five meters in length and one in width.

With his heart in his throat, he turned to the youth who stood dressed in light. Materialized ether was all around him, dazzling the eyes.

Dres fell on his knees. "Please, I didn't know! I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

His only answer was a low growl and an ether blade that cleaved him in half.