The Smiling Death

The group quietly made their way through the forest toward the trade route. The familiar path had almost become routine after the past several days.

Only the sound of rustling leaves and insects broke the silence of the evening.

Eliana let out a long sigh. "...It’s already been six days."

She brushed aside a low-hanging branch before continuing, "And we still haven’t found anything. No hideout. No meaningful clues."

Her frustration was understandable.

Today marked the sixth day since they had arrived in Black Raven Hill.

Despite searching countless parts of the forest, questioning every villager they could find, and keeping watch over the trade routes every night...

They still hadn’t located the bandits’ base. They had discovered a few footprints and faint traces of human activity.

However, every trail eventually went cold, as if the bandits knew exactly how to erase their tracks.

Marcus frowned. "Do you think they’re even still in Black Raven Hill?" he wondered.

"I doubt they’ve left."

Amon answered calmly while walking through the dark forest.

"Just because they haven’t attacked anyone for a week doesn’t mean they’ve abandoned the area. They’re probably waiting for the right opportunity. Or maybe... they got to know that we have came to this village, in search of them."

"There are chances that it’s truth. But hope it’s not." Seraphina said.

Amon put those thoughts aside, rather he couldn’t deny that he was growing bored.

Honestly, Amon wouldn’t have minded spending his days relaxing in the peaceful village.

The quiet atmosphere. The fresh mountain air. The cherry blossom trees. It was a pleasant change from constantly risking his life.

Instead every day had become the same.

Search the forest. then Found nothing.

Return to the village.

They repeated this for last few days. The routine had become painfully monotonous.

Eventually, the group arrived at the trade route. Following the same plan as before, they chose concealed positions overlooking the road.

Each person climbed a different tree, leaving enough distance between one another so they could watch a wider section of the route without revealing their presence.

The thick branches and dense leaves provided excellent cover.

Soon evening gradually gave way to night. Darkness spread across the forest. Time slowly passed.

One hour went and then another hour.

The forest remained eerily quiet.

Amon rested against a thick branch, observing the empty road below. He had already begun to think tonight would end just like the previous five nights.

’Guess once again there’s nothing.’ he thought sadly.

There was absolutely nothing.

Then—

Creak...

The faint sound of wooden wheels echoed through the forest.

Amon’s eyes immediately opened. His attention snapped toward the distant road.

A horse-drawn carriage was slowly making its way along the trade route.

It was still over a hundred meters away from their hiding positions. Thanks to his exceptional eyesight, enhanced by mana, and his abilities, the darkness posed no obstacle.

He could see the road almost as clearly as if it were daytime.

The others, however, couldn’t make out much at that distance.

A few moments later the bushes on both sides of the road suddenly exploded with movement.

one, then two, then three... More than five armed men rushed out and surrounded the carriage in an instant.

Bandits.

Amon narrowed his eyes.

’So they were hiding this close...’

For six days they had searched the forest without success.

But today they had came to loot. And they were hiding pretty close to Amon and his group. It was unbelievable how no one notice anything.

Without wasting another second, Amon silently wrapped his legs with shadow mana.

The darkness gathered around his boots like flowing smoke. He pushed off the branch. His body dropped from the tree.

Normally, landing from that height would have produced a loud thud.

Instead the shadows absorbed every trace of impact.

Not even a single leaf rustled. The moment his feet touched the ground, Amon shot forward.

Like a phantom.

His footsteps made no sound as he dashed through the darkness between the trees, using the shadows to conceal both his presence and movement.

Within moments, he had closed the distance.

Slowing down near a thick tree, he quietly observed the scene.

Five rough-looking bandits surrounded the carriage with swords, axes, and spears in hand.

Their dirty armor and scarred faces made it obvious they had lived this life for years.

One of them stepped forward with a cruel grin.

"Hand over everything you’ve got."

His voice echoed through the silent forest.

"Money, valuables, weapons... and maybe we’ll leave you alive."

A frightened merchant climbed down from the carriage, his entire body trembling.

"P-Please... take the goods if you want. Just spare us."

The bandit laughed.

"You don’t get to negotiate."

Standing in front of the merchant were two adventurers.

Both had already drawn their weapons. Unfortunately, Amon could immediately tell they weren’t strong.

Their stances were unstable. Their mana fluctuations were weak. At best, they were low-ranked adventurers hired as caravan escorts.

Against five experienced bandits...

They stood little chance. Even they seemed to realize it.

Yet neither of them stepped aside.

Instead, they tightened their grips on their swords, prepared to protect the carriage despite the overwhelming odds.

Amon pulled out a hatchet and sword from his storage ring.

He tightened his grip on his weapons. A sword rested in his right hand. A hatchet spun once in his left before coming to a stop.

A thin layer of shadow silently wrapped itself around both blades.

This abilities, this technique consumed no mana. It was an innate property of his Death’s Shadow, allowing darkness to cling naturally to his weapons.

A moment later, the shadows deepened.

Pitch-black darkness flowed over the sword and hatchet, swallowing every glint of metal until both weapons became almost impossible to distinguish from the surrounding night.

From a distance, they seemed to have vanished entirely.

Ahead of him, one of the bandits stepped forward and pointed his blade toward the frightened merchant and the two escorts.

"Don’t move."

His voice was cold and threatening.

"Hand over all your valuables, your weapons, and every coin you have. Do that, and maybe you’ll live to see tomorrow."

The merchant’s face turned pale with fear.

Before he could answer, one of the adventurers took a step forward.

"No."

He raised his sword despite the sweat running down his face.

"We won’t surrender."

The second adventurer stood beside him.

"If you want this carriage..."

He tightened his grip on his weapon.

"...you’ll have to kill us first."

The bandits burst into laughter.

"What brave fools."

The leader of the small bandit group smirked before raising one hand.

Mana gathered above his palm as a magic circle slowly began to form.

"So be it. If you want to die... I’ll grant your wish."

Just then something silently shot out from the darkness behind him.

There was no whistle. No sound cutting through the air. Wrapped completely in shadows, the projectile blended perfectly with the night itself.

It was invisible. By the time anyone noticed...

It was already too late.

Clutch!

Splurt!

"ARGHHHH!!"

The bandit’s scream echoed through the forest. A hatchet had buried itself deep into the back of his head.

The enchanted blade tore through flesh and bone, splitting his skull with terrifying force.

Blood sprayed into the air. The half-finished magic circle shattered instantly as his mana dispersed.

His eyes widened in disbelief. He staggered forward two unsteady steps before collapsing face-first onto the dirt road.

Thud.

Silence followed.

The remaining bandits froze. The merchant stood rooted to the spot.

Even the two adventurers stared in shock.

None of them had seen where the attack had come from.

Only the dead bandit lying in a growing pool of blood remained as proof that someone else had entered the battlefield.

For a heartbeat the entire forest fell silent.

The remaining bandits stood frozen, their minds refusing to process what had just happened.

"W-What...?"

One of them stared blankly at the corpse lying on the ground. Their companion had been alive only a moment ago.

Now a hatchet was lodged deep in the back of his skull.

Blood slowly spread across the dirt beneath him.

"T-Themon..!"

Another bandit’s face turned deathly pale.

"He... he was killed in one hit?"

"Who did that?!"

The panic in his voice echoed through the forest.

The bandits instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons before spinning around toward the darkness behind them.

"Show yourself!"

One of them shouted, nervously pointing his sword toward the trees.

His eyes darted from one shadow to another.

Nothing only darkness. The forest remained eerily quiet.

The wind gently rustled the leaves overhead, making the shadows sway as though they were alive. Every tree suddenly looked like it could be hiding an enemy.

Every patch of darkness became suspicious. One of the bandits swallowed hard.

"I-I don’t see anyone..."

"Keep looking!"

Another barked.

"He’s somewhere in the forest!"

The four remaining bandits slowly formed a circle, keeping their backs to one another while scanning every direction.

Cold sweat trickled down their foreheads. Whoever had attacked had thrown a hatchet powerful enough to split a man’s skull from over a hundred meters away.

And they hadn’t heard or seen anything

Just then they heard footsteps.

They does not belong to one person, but several.