The woodland grew quieter the deeper they walked.
Not silent—but subdued. Dry leaves crunched softly beneath their boots. A gentle wind threaded through the sparse canopy overhead, stirring branches and scattering thin shafts of afternoon sunlight across the forest floor.
Null walked near the middle of the group, hands resting loosely at his sides. Ronan led from the front with careful steps, occasionally scanning the trees ahead. Mira moved like a shadow through the undergrowth, her steps so light they barely disturbed the leaves. Derrik trudged behind with steady, heavy strides, his staff resting across one shoulder. Lyra and Tobin stayed close together toward the rear.
Every now and then, Ronan glanced back.
"Null."
Null lifted his head. "Yeah?"
"You said your perk enhances your senses, right?"
"Mm-hm."
Ronan slowed slightly as they navigated between a cluster of trees. "Anything yet?"
Null paused for a moment. Outwardly, he closed his eyes briefly, as if concentrating. Inwardly, a familiar voice responded instantly.
[Master. Current distance to bandit encampment: 993 meters.]
Null opened one eye lazily, then turned to Ronan. "My range is about three hundred meters." He gave a small shrug. "Nothing yet."
Ronan nodded. "Alright. Keep watching though."
"Got it."
The group continued walking. Branches brushed past their shoulders as they pushed deeper into the woodland.
Inside his mind, Fantasy Omniscience spoke calmly.
[Master. Estimated encounter time: approximately four minutes at current walking speed.]
Null hummed quietly. Not bad.
Of course—he had deliberately lied earlier. His so-called basic sensory enhancement didn't exist. If he told them the truth—that he could detect enemies from nearly a kilometer away—it would raise far too many questions. Better to look like a normal novice with a modest perception ability. Novices having abilities within a few hundred meters was believable. Anything beyond that would sound suspicious.
So he kept up the act.
Every minute or so, Ronan would ask again.
"Anything?"
Null would pause. Pretend to listen. Then mentally ask the real source.
[Master. Distance: 641 meters.]
"Nope."
—
A few minutes later—
[Distance: 472 meters.]
"Still nothing."
—
And again—
[Distance: 348 meters.]
Null stretched his shoulders slightly as he walked. "…Almost there."
Ronan looked back. "You sensing something?"
Null shook his head. "Not yet."
Inside his mind, Fantasy Omniscience continued calmly.
[Master. Distance: 301 meters.]
Then—
[300 meters.]
Null stopped walking. "Hold up."
The group immediately froze. Ronan turned around sharply. "You got something?"
Null pointed ahead through the trees. "Yeah. About three hundred meters."
Everyone tensed instantly. Mira crouched slightly, her hand resting on one of the daggers at her waist. "How many?"
Null listened to the silent stream of information flowing through his mind.
[Six individuals detected. Four gathered within central clearing. Two maintaining perimeter watch.]
"Six," Null said calmly. "Four sitting around a campfire. Two guards near the outer edge."
Ronan's eyes sharpened. "Camp?"
Null nodded. "Small clearing. Looks like they set up a temporary base."
Derrik grinned and rolled his shoulders. "Good. Means they're not moving."
Lyra folded her hands nervously. "…Six bandits. That's manageable."
Tobin adjusted his grip on his crossbow. "…Right?"
Ronan slowly drew his sword. The quiet metallic whisper of steel sliding from its sheath seemed unusually loud in the quiet forest. "More than manageable." He glanced toward the trees ahead. "Alright. Quiet from here."
Mira smiled slightly. "My specialty."
Ronan nodded. "Mira scouts first. Null stays with me. Derrik front line. Lyra and Tobin support from behind."
Everyone nodded.
---
Ronan slowly lowered his stance. "Mira."
The rogue girl flashed a confident grin. "Already gone."
And she was. One moment she stood beside them—the next, she slipped between the trees like a drifting shadow. Her unique ability activated: Ghoststep. The faster she moved, the quieter she became. Leaves barely rustled as she glided through the undergrowth toward the bandit clearing.
The rest of the team waited.
Thirty seconds passed. Then a minute.
Inside his mind, Fantasy Omniscience spoke calmly.
[Master. Mira Talwyn has reached visual range of the bandit camp.]
Null folded his arms quietly. Good scouting discipline.
A few moments later, a small pebble landed near Ronan's boot. He looked down, then nodded. "That's the signal." He glanced at the group. "Same layout Null described. Mira confirmed it."
Ronan pointed ahead through the trees. "Bandits are in a small clearing. Four sitting around the fire. Two guards at the edges."
He pointed to Derrik. "You and I hit the camp directly." Then to Tobin. "You take the first shot from the treeline."
Tobin's confidence brimmed. "My True Aim will take one down."
"Try your best, but don't kill them," Ronan said. "Our mission is to capture them alive and hand them over to the Justice Regulators."
"Understood." Tobin straightened slightly.
Ronan turned to Lyra. "Stay behind us. Heal if needed."
Lyra's elven ears perked. "O-okay," she nodded nervously.
Finally, Ronan looked at Null. "You stay flexible."
Null blinked. "Flexible?"
"Jump in wherever the line breaks."
Null shrugged. "Works for me."
The forest grew tense the moment Ronan finished outlining the formation. Steel slid free from sheaths. Boots shifted quietly across dirt and fallen leaves.
Ronan lifted his hand. Three fingers. Two. One.
His hand dropped.
Tobin fired.
The crossbow string snapped with a sharp twang. The bolt sliced through the air—but at the last possible moment, the guard jerked his head aside. The bolt grazed his shoulder instead of his throat.
"—THE VEIL TREMBLES!" the man suddenly roared.
The bandit staggered back, clutching his bleeding shoulder, but his eyes were wide and burning with drunken excitement. "INTRUDERS BREACH THE DOMAIN OF THE ROCKET!"
The clearing exploded into motion. Campfire sparks scattered. Four bandits leapt to their feet. The second guard whirled toward the trees.
"Children of the false dawn… you dare challenge the destined kings of shadow?!"
"What the fuck are they spouting?" Derrik asked, bewildered.
Not only him—even the others were speechless.
Ronan swore under his breath. "…They're insane."
But they had no time to complain, because the bandits had recovered from the surprise attack.
"MOVE!"
The team burst from the trees.
Mira moved first. Her Ghoststep activated instantly. She sprinted across the clearing so fast her footsteps made almost no sound. Her daggers flashed toward the wounded guard—but the man twisted away with surprising speed.
"TOO SLOW, LITTLE PHANTOM!"
His sword swung in a wide drunken arc. Mira barely ducked under it.
CLANG.
Steel met steel. The clash forced her back a step.
He's strong, she realized immediately. Much stronger than a normal novice opponent.
Meanwhile, Ronan charged another bandit.
"Iron Tempo!"
Step. Strike. Breathe.
His sword slashed downward—but the bandit caught the blow with a heavy hatchet.
CLANG.
"HAHA!" The bandit grinned wildly. "You swing like a hatchling knight!"
He kicked Ronan square in the stomach. Ronan staggered back three steps.
Behind him—Derrik stepped forward with a roar.
"STONEHEART CHANNEL!"
Earth mana surged through his body. His muscles hardened like granite. He slammed his staff into the ground and charged. The impact knocked one bandit backward—but the man rolled smoothly to his feet.
"BROTHERS!" The bandit pointed dramatically at Derrik. "THE GOLEM OF THE FALSE EARTH HAS ENTERED THE FIELD!"
Two bandits immediately moved together—not randomly, not drunkenly, but in practiced coordination. One attacked Derrik's front. The other circled behind him.
Derrik swung his staff—but the second bandit's club smashed into his back.
THUD.
Derrik grunted. Even with Stoneheart active, the blow rattled him.
"They're working together!" Ronan shouted.
The bandits laughed. "Of course we are! Years of glorious pillaging forge bonds stronger than blood!"
Meanwhile—Tobin frantically reloaded his crossbow. His hands shook. "I—I can't get a clear shot!"
Lyra raised her staff nervously. "Stay behind me!"
But one of the bandits suddenly sprinted toward them.
"THE HEALER OF LIGHT SHALL FALL FIRST!"
Lyra froze. The man was huge, scarred, and very fast. Before Tobin could react—the bandit swung a heavy mace.
Null moved.
Not fast. Not flashy. Just… perfectly timed.
He stepped forward and raised his sword sideways.
CLANG.
The mace slammed into his blade. The force traveled down his arms—but he absorbed it with a slight shift of stance.
The bandit blinked. "…Huh?"
Null looked mildly bored. "Sorry. You can't hit the healer."
He tapped the man's wrist—a tiny movement, but perfectly placed. The bandit's grip loosened instantly. The mace dropped.
Null kicked the man's knee sideways. The bandit collapsed with a grunt. Null planted a foot on the man's back and pinned him down. "…Please stop struggling."
But the bandit only laughed harder. "HAHA! A calm one! THE SILENT BLADE HAS ENTERED THE STAGE!"
Meanwhile, the main fight had become chaos. Ronan and Mira had ended up fighting the wounded guard together, but the man moved unpredictably—drunk, laughing, wild, yet somehow precise.
"You move in rhythm!" the bandit shouted at Ronan. "Then I shall break the rhythm!"
He deliberately attacked off-beat. Ronan's Iron Tempo faltered. Mira darted behind him—but the bandit kicked dirt into her eyes. She cursed and stumbled. The bandit's sword swung toward her throat—
Ronan intercepted.
CLANG.
Their blades locked. Ronan's breathing grew heavier. These guys… aren't amateurs.
Nearby—Derrik struggled against the two-man combo. One bandit distracted him while the other hammered his back repeatedly.
THUD. THUD.
"DERRIK!" Lyra shouted. She raised her staff. "Gentle Bloom!"
Soft green light spread across the battlefield. Derrik felt strength return to his muscles. He roared and spun his staff in a wide arc, forcing both bandits back.
But they only grinned wider. "THE FLOWER HEALS THE GOLEM!"
"THEN CRUSH THE FLOWER!"
One of them suddenly broke formation and charged straight toward Lyra.
Tobin panicked. "I—I got him!"
He fired. The bolt missed.
Lyra froze. The bandit's axe rose—
Then Null appeared between them.
The bandit blinked. "…You again?"
Null replied, bewildered. "What, 'me again'? Did we meet somewhere before? If so, then sorry. I'm too forgettable for minor characters."
The axe swung. Null stepped inside the arc—too close for the weapon to accelerate. He caught the bandit's wrist, twisted, and the axe fell. Then he swept the man's legs. The bandit crashed into the dirt beside his captured friend. Null pressed his sword to the man's throat.
"Please stay down."
But the man only laughed breathlessly. "THE SILENT ONE IS STRONG!"
Meanwhile, Ronan's group finally began adapting.
"Derrik!" Ronan shouted. "Switch targets!"
Derrik understood immediately. He rushed toward Ronan's opponent—Stoneheart-powered shoulder slam.
BOOM.
The bandit staggered. Mira's daggers flashed. She cut the man's belt rope. His pants dropped.
"…WHAT—"
Ronan punched him in the jaw. The bandit collapsed.
"ONE DOWN!" Ronan shouted.
Across the clearing—the remaining two bandits glanced at each other.
Then burst into laughter.
"THE HATCHLINGS LEARN! GOOD! GROW STRONGER!"
They raised their weapons dramatically.
"For the glory of the ROCKET!"