The bandits had recently fattened their bellies by raiding merchant caravans passing through the region.
They didn’t even have a name for their group. At the center of it all was a swordsman named Jack.
He was a mercenary-turned-bandit, known for swinging a wide-bladed sword with zero recoil as his trademark.
Technically, he was a deserter—but there was no need to go telling tales of his past while robbing people.
Jack stepped forward, brushing past the man who had just spoken.
‘So the guy panicked just because someone swung a sword? Or is he relying on Frokk?’
At times like this, you only had to break the nose of the one who stood at the front. After that, the rest would fall in line.
