Henwell holds his breath, listening intently to the commotion outside.

  “Damn! I thought it was a big score! Turns out they're just paupers! What a letdown!”

  “Alright! Clean up and let's get out of here! The rain will wash away all traces!”

  "Ironhead, check if there are any survivors inside. If there are, finish them off! If not, torch the pce!"

  The wagon door swings open, and a hulking figure squeezes inside, methodically stabbing the screaming children with his sword. The child who had seen Henwell climb to the roof is still alive, reaching out to Henwell, whispering, "Help... me..."

  Following the direction of the child's hand, the intruder turns his head, confused. Just then, Henwell descends upon him, nding with precision. Perched on the man's back, Henwell drives a steel spike into his temple with deadly accuracy. The man's body stiffens and colpses into the pile of bodies.

  The person standing at the wagon door looks on in shock at Henwell. Just as he is about to speak, Henwell catches the steel spike from his mouth with his left hand and hurls it at him. The spike pierces through his mouth with such force that it exits through the back of his skull.

  Henwell pulls out the steel spike in his right hand and leaps out of the wagon as the man at the door falls backward. Upon nding, Henwell doesn't immediately stand but rolls to hide beneath the wagon.

  Henwell quickly scans the area. There are more than ten enemies, but only two have spotted him; the rest are busy looting. They wear leather armor, wield swords, and carry bows. However, they're not mercenaries or ordinary bandits—they're deserters turned bandits.

  Henwell recognizes the standard-issue leather armor and swords from the battlefield.

  After assessing the situation, Henwell pns to dash into the nearby grove. Without armor for protection, a well-pced arrow could be the end of him. Even a non-lethal hit would leave him vulnerable to further attacks. Plus, he hasn't fully recovered from the weakening potion yet. Facing these armed deserters head-on would be foolish.

  With his pn set, Henwell opts not to run upright, as that would make him an easy target.

  Instead, he moves swiftly on all fours, crawling across the ground. Before the two bandits who spotted him can react, Henwell is already behind one of them. He drives a steel spike into the man's neck, then swiftly moves to his front, snatching the sword from his grasp.

  With the sword now in his right hand, Henwell pulls out the steel spike with his left, thrusting it into the man's jaw. He hoists the body up as a makeshift shield and maneuvers toward another position.

  After blocking two incoming arrows, Henwell charges at another bandit. With a twist of his sword, he slices open the man's wrist. As the enemy's sword ctters to the ground, Henwell steps forward, driving the steel spike in his left hand into the man's neck.

  Using the body as a shield once more, Henwell discards his current sword and retrieves the long sword strapped to the man's back—his own Dawnbde, cimed by the bandit as loot.

  Henwell moves swiftly, circling behind a tent to lose his pursuers. He pnts the sword into the ground and tucks the steel spike into his belt, then picks up a military-grade bow from the ground. Holding both the bow and an arrow in his left hand, he nocks the arrow with his right and draws back the bowstring.

  With a swift kick, he sends the corpse leaning against his shoulder flying forward, then sidesteps to the left, releasing the arrow and taking down an archer who had been targeting him.

  Two other archers, distracted by the flying body, release their arrows. The remaining archer draws another arrow, but he's too slow. Henwell, after firing his first shot, deftly nocks another arrow with his left hand. Before the archer can fully draw his bow, Henwell's arrow pierces his neck.

  Henwell discards the bow and darts back behind the tent. Grabbing the sword he had pnted in the ground, he charges out from the right side, catching the bandits off guard as he maneuvers behind another tent.

  At that moment, two bandits rush forward, attempting to block Henwell's path. Henwell abruptly stops and kicks up a cloud of dirt towards the enemy on the right. As that bandit turns his head to avoid the dirt, Henwell cshes swords with the bandit on the left.

  Before the enemy can apply force, Henwell drives his right knee hard into the man's groin. As the bandit doubles over in pain, Henwell uses his left hand to draw the steel spike from his belt and pierce the man's neck.

  Simultaneously, Henwell's right foot nds and he sweeps it sideways into the back of the right-side enemy's knee. Blinded by the dirt, the bandit drops to one knee. Henwell twists his body, bringing his sword down in a swift arc, decapitating the kneeling bandit.

  Now, Henwell is close to the grove. Once inside, the bandits' numerical advantage will be nullified, and he won't have to fear them as much. Stowing the steel spike away, Henwell grips his sword and dashes towards the trees. The bandits behind him see this but realize they can't catch up to him in time.

  Sometimes, when luck isn't on your side, even a simple act can backfire spectacurly. Just as Henwell is about to reach the grove, a bandit suddenly emerges from the trees, hastily pulling up his pants.

  Cursing under his breath, Henwell lunges forward, driving his sword through the man's chest. But this brief dey is enough for Henwell to hear the unmistakable twang of bowstrings.

  With no other choice, Henwell uses the unfortunate bandit's body as a shield against the volley of arrows. At that moment, two more bandits close in, cutting off his retreat into the woods.

  Henwell swings his sword, engaging them in combat. His superior swordsmanship and battle experience give him an edge, but the effects of the weakening potion prevent him from quickly dispatching his foes.

  Before long, more bandits converge on his position. Minutes ter, Henwell stands breathless, leaning on his sword, with several fresh wounds on his body. Around him lie four more corpses.

  Three injured bandits hesitate, wary of continuing the fight. Meanwhile, a few others stand ten meters away, armed with bows and crossbows, watching Henwell intently.

  A man cd in metal armor speaks up, "Hey, kid, you must be from some noble family! How did you end up as a sve? Was your family destroyed? You've got some skills. Why not join me? You could eventually take my pce and live a carefree life!"

  Take your pce? As a bandit?

  Henwell spits out a mouthful of blood and gestures defiantly at the man, "Come on, let's fight!"

  Knowing there's no escape, Henwell dispys a fierce and courageous side. If he's going down, he's taking someone with him!

  A bandit holding a crossbow suggests, "Boss, let's just shoot him! He's taken down so many of our brothers; we can't let him live!"

  The leader frowns and sps him, "Do I need you to tell me what to do? If we kill him, we'll lose money on this job! Capture him alive! There's a pce that pays well for noble-born youths like him!"

  When Henwell sees the net being thrown over him, he realizes he won't get another chance to take someone down with him. Once subdued, the bandits swarm him, delivering a brutal beating. Henwell, already weakened from blood loss, soon loses consciousness under the assault.