The remaining two bandits raised their weapons dramatically.
"For the glory of the ROCKET!"
The clearing fell into a strange pause.
Ronan tightened his grip on his sword. Derrik rolled his shoulders, breathing heavily through his nose. Mira wiped dirt from one eye, daggers ready again. Behind them, Lyra clutched her staff while Tobin frantically tried to steady his breathing.
And in the middle of it all—Null simply watched.
His red eyes moved slowly between the two remaining bandits. Then he sighed inwardly.
…Seriously.
Inside his mind, he muttered dryly.
Fantasy Omniscience-san.
[Yes, Master.]
Is it just me… or are these guys suffering from some severe eighth-grade syndrome?
A brief pause. Then the calm analytical voice replied.
[Analysis confirmed. The behavioral patterns displayed by these individuals are consistent with what your world would categorize as "chuunibyou."]
Null almost laughed. Of course it is.
But he was still curious. Why though? They're grown adults. Bandits who've probably been doing this for years. Yet they're shouting things like "veil of destiny" and "domain of the rocket."
Inside his mind, Fantasy Omniscience answered with the same neutral tone.
[Psychological analysis suggests imitation behavior. These individuals appear to be emulating the legendary bandit organization you inquired about earlier.]
Null raised an eyebrow slightly. You mean the so-called greatest bandit gang in the world?
[Affirmative. The group that claims possession of the supreme artifact known as "Rocket." Current bandits appear to idolize them.]
Null watched as the two remaining bandits dramatically crossed their weapons like actors preparing for a stage performance.
One of them pointed his axe toward the sky. "The prophecy unfolds!"
The other slammed his sword against his shield. "Witness the might of those who walk the path of the ROCKET!"
Null pinched the bridge of his nose.
Yeah… definitely chuunibyou.
Fantasy Omniscience continued her explanation.
[Observation: admiration toward powerful outlaw figures often leads to exaggerated behavioral mimicry. These bandits appear to believe that imitating the speech and demeanor of their idols will bring them closer to that perceived greatness.]
Null stared silently for a moment. Then mentally muttered: …So they're basically cosplaying their heroes.
[Correct.]
Null almost felt bad for them. Almost.
Out loud, he sighed. "…You know," he murmured quietly, "bandit role-playing is a strange career choice."
Hearing him, Lyra laughed slightly.
But the bandits didn't hear him. They were too busy posing dramatically.
"For the unseen heavens!"
"For the hidden ROCKET that watches the world!"
Null twitched slightly.
Satellite. The word you idiots are looking for is satellite.
He crossed his arms casually.
Fantasy Omniscience-san.
[Yes, Master.]
I'm now about ninety percent certain that the leader of that legendary bandit gang… is another otherworlder.
—
The two remaining bandits continued their theatrical display for a few seconds longer.
Then—quite suddenly—they turned around. And waved.
Not at Ronan's team. But deeper into the clearing.
"Great one!"
"O Herald of the Rocket!"
Their voices carried exaggerated reverence.
"These fledgling warriors have proven themselves worthy!"
"Indeed! They have shattered three pillars of our shadow court!"
"Thus! We humbly request—"
Both men dramatically stepped aside.
"—that you enter the stage!"
For the first time since the battle began, someone else moved.
Up until now, there had been one bandit who hadn't participated in the fight at all. He had simply been sitting on a fallen log near the campfire. Watching.
A half-empty wine bottle rested beside him. In one hand he held a small metal cup. He hadn't flinched when the first bandit fell. Hadn't reacted when the second was disarmed. Hadn't even blinked when the third collapsed unconscious.
He had just been observing. Calmly. Leisurely. As if watching a street performance.
Now—the man slowly stood up.
The motion was unhurried. Almost lazy. He lifted the metal cup to his lips and finished the last sip of wine. Then he flicked the cup aside.
CLANG.
It struck a rock, spun once, and rolled into the dirt.
The bandit stretched his neck slightly.
CRACK.
The sound of bones shifting echoed faintly through the clearing.
Then he stepped forward.
Firelight illuminated his face. Dark brown hair. Sharp eyes. A crooked grin that showed too many teeth.
But what caught everyone's attention were his hands.
As he flexed his fingers, the nails lengthened. Black. Curved. Claws. The skin around them darkened slightly as coarse fur spread along the backs of his hands. A beastman. The transformation was subtle but unmistakable.
Ronan and the others tensed.
"Are you the leader?" Ronan asked.
The beastman bandit didn't respond. He rolled his shoulders slowly, then glanced at the three unconscious men lying on the ground. He sighed.
"…Honestly." His voice was relaxed. Almost amused. "You boys really went and lost to a bunch of kids."
The two remaining bandits straightened instantly.
"Great one! These are no ordinary hatchlings!"
"Indeed! They possess the spark of destiny!"
The beastman waved a clawed hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah."
He stepped past them. Leaves crunched under his boots as he approached Ronan's team. The drunken smell of wine still lingered around him, but his eyes were completely clear. Sharp. Predatory.
He stopped about ten meters away. Then tilted his head slightly as he studied them.
"…Five kids. One healer. One nervous crossbow. One stone-head. One stealth girl."
His gaze landed on Ronan. "…And a leader trying very hard to look confident."
Ronan didn't respond, but his sword rose slightly.
The beastman's eyes finally shifted toward Null. They lingered there for just a moment. Then his grin widened slightly.
"…And you."
Null blinked. "Me?"
The beastman scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hm. An interesting one." He tilted his head. "With that face, I bet you'd sell for a hefty sum in the slave market."
Null rolled his eyes. Why is everyone so fixated on my appearance? It was the same even back on Earth.
Unaware of his thoughts, Fantasy Omniscience spoke quietly.
[Master. Threat assessment updated. This individual possesses significantly higher combat capability than the previous five.]
Null mentally sighed. Yeah. I figured.
The beastman finally rolled his neck once more. CRACK.
Then he raised one clawed hand.
"Alright, kids." His grin sharpened. "Let's see if you're actually worth all the dramatic speeches those idiots just gave."
Null was a little surprised. At least this guy seems to have some common sense left in him.
---
The beastman moved first.
No warning. No dramatic shout. Just motion.
One moment he stood ten meters away. The next—he vanished.
"—!"
Ronan barely raised his sword in time.
CLANG!
The impact exploded through the clearing. The beastman's claws crashed into Ronan's blade with frightening force. Sparks burst from the metal as Ronan's arms buckled instantly.
"Too slow, kid."
The beastman twisted his wrist. SCRREEECH—the claws slid down Ronan's blade and slammed into his chest armor.
THUD!
Ronan was thrown backward three full steps, boots carving deep grooves into the dirt.
"Ronan!" Lyra cried.
But the beastman was already moving again. A blur of muscle and claws shot toward Derrik.
"STONEHEART—!"
Derrik barely activated his perk before the beastman's fist slammed into his guard.
BOOM.
Even with earth mana reinforcing his body, Derrik's staff bent under the force.
The beastman grinned wider. "Nice trick." His knee drove into Derrik's stomach.
WHAM.
The breath blasted out of Derrik's lungs. The beastman followed with a spinning backhand.
THUD.
Derrik staggered sideways like a toppled statue.
"Derrik!" Tobin shouted.
Then Mira struck.
Her Ghoststep activated instantly. She flashed across the clearing like a silent arrow. Both daggers aimed for the beastman's spine.
But—CLANG.
The beastman caught one dagger between his claws without even looking back. "…Sneaky."
His other hand snapped backward. Mira barely twisted aside in time—but the claws grazed her shoulder.
RIP. Cloth tore. A thin line of blood followed.
Mira flipped backward and skidded across the dirt. Her breath came out sharp. "…He's fast."
Too fast.
Ronan wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. Derrik staggered upright beside him. Mira joined them a second later. The three novices instinctively regrouped—weapons raised, breathing hard.
Across from them, the beastman casually cracked his knuckles.
CRACK. CRACK.
"…That's it?" His tone carried open disappointment. "I was expecting more after all that 'destiny' talk."
Behind him, the two remaining bandits burst out laughing.
"HAHA! The hatchlings tremble!"
"The great claw has only just begun!"
Even the ones pinned to the ground earlier had started shouting again.
"CRUSH THEM! SHOW THEM THE PATH OF THE ROCKET!"
"THE PROPHECY DEMANDS THEIR DEFEAT!"
Null stared at them. His eye twitched slightly. "…Seriously?"
The unconscious bandit under his boot was still trying to shout dramatically. "THE SHADOW COURT SHALL—"
Thunk.
Null casually tapped the back of the man's head with the pommel of his sword. The bandit went limp instantly. "…Quiet."
The second captured bandit tried to keep yelling. "THE ROCKET—"
Thunk.
"…You too."
Silence returned. Well, mostly. Because the two standing bandits were still howling with laughter.
"LOOK AT THEM! THE GUILD SENT CHILDREN!"
"The Justice Regulators must truly despise these hatchlings!"
The beastman stretched his arms lazily. "Seriously though." He flexed his claws slowly. "You kids actually thought you could take down a real bandit crew?"
He pointed toward the fallen men. "These idiots might look like drunk lunatics… but we've been raiding together for a year." His eyes gleamed with predatory amusement. "Experience beats talent nine times out of ten."
Behind Ronan, Lyra was already working.
"Gentle Bloom!"
Soft green light spread across the clearing. Her healing magic flowed over Ronan, Derrik, and Mira. Bruises faded. Muscles loosened. Breathing steadied.
Ronan exhaled slowly. "…Thanks."
Derrik rolled his shoulders again. "Still hurts."
Mira flexed her injured arm. "…But manageable."
The beastman watched them calmly. Then laughed. "Look at that. The flower heals the heroes." He raised a claw and pointed lazily at them. "But it doesn't change the ending."
The two bandits behind him raised their weapons again.
"You children stepped onto the wrong stage!"
"The curtain of destiny has already fallen!"
The beastman grinned wider. "You know what your mistake was?"
Ronan didn't answer.
The beastman continued anyway. "Arrogance. You thought a handful of guild kids could drag us to the Justice Regulators." He tilted his head slightly. "Bad news." His claws scraped against each other. SKRRRK. "You're the ones walking into the grave."
The forest went quiet again.
Ronan raised his sword once more—more carefully this time. Derrik stepped forward beside him. Mira circled slowly to the side. Behind them, Lyra and Tobin steadied themselves.
The team had regrouped.
But the tension in the clearing had changed.