A bad decision

Thousands of kilometers beneath the surface, protected by undetectable defensive and inhibitory barriers, lay the vast lair of the Bandit group. The cave was a natural labyrinth they had adapted: winding passages and empty caverns had been converted into rooms, storerooms, and meeting halls.

(RUMBLE-RUMBLE!)

However, despite all that, the heart of the lair was plunged into chaos.

(Bang!)

"SHUT YOUR MOUTHS, EVERYONE!"

To restore order, the Leader, a burly man with scars lost beneath a rough beard, slammed his fist on a makeshift table in an attempt to quell the growing uproar among his subordinates.

"But, boss..."

In response, a dozen bandits, with pale faces and their weapons trembling in their hands, stirred nervously...

(THOOM!)

"!!"

"It's the end!!"

"I don't want to die like this!"

... Agitated by the continuous explosions and tremors that resonated from the surface, despite being at such a depth and protected by the inhibitory barriers, their morale was breaking.

"Leader, it's the end of the world! Those noises have been happening for hours!"

Then, a young bandit shouted what they all feared, pointing at the rock ceiling that seemed to vibrate.

"Our barriers should be dampening this! Something must be crashing against the damn planet!"

Snapping back against that declaration, another bandit stated with ragged breath.

"......"

The Leader, for his part, clenched his jaw, just as uneasy as they were, but without showing it. His only certainty was that, if the chaos continued, his carefully constructed fortress would become his tomb.

(No... it can't be...)

But then, the Leader considered an even worse possibility than that...

(Did he find us?!)

The Leader, tightening his grip on his battle-ax until his knuckles turned white, looked up at the ceiling. His mind was no longer focused on the barriers or the morale of his group; it was on the frozen panic he had sworn to leave behind.

"....."

Fear took hold of him. The vibrations, the magnitude of the roar that not even the barriers could silence, brought back memories of a past he would rather burn.

(It's not possible that that... that demon has found us once more.)

The Leader tried to repress the paranoia, but the memory of his trauma was a bottomless pit. It was not just the idea of being discovered; it was the idea of being destroyed by what pursued them or becoming victims of an even worse fate.

(Wealth... Power... We had it all...)

It was then that under the pressure of the physical tremor, buried memories surfaced once again.

(How did I lose everything...?)

As his buried memories resurfaced, he recalled how he was the son of a ducal family, a proud young man who lived in opulence and reveled in his position in that glorious kingdom formerly known as the powerful Valerius Empire, and his world was one of marble and silk.

(If only that day hadn't arrived!!)

The contrast caused his grip on the ax to intensify to the point of pain as memories of that night of celebration, a fateful day which, at the time, he never suspected would be the beginning of his downfall and that of everyone else.

(RUMBLE-CLASH! THOOM-VORTEX!)

To him, the explosions in that moment were not an earthquake; they were the very warning sound that preceded the end of his former life.

(No. It can't be. Not after all this time...!)

His mind was flooded with fear at the memory of the laughter. The pure and incomprehensible laughter of that creature that undid the world with a childish glee.

(If only I had done something...!)

As his memories were relived, a wave of nausea hit him in the present.

(Damn it! I should have fled from there at that very moment! While I was still able to!)

However, he couldn't have known back then that he would soon be trapped for days, along with everyone else, putting his faith in being rescued. Not knowing that when it arrived, it was too late.

(The roar... The melody... and the pure laughter...)

The image of how that "monster" had been unleashed, and the massacre had left no one untouched, pursued him.

(If it hadn't been for Vulcan... I..!)

He had only managed to survive, humiliatingly, thanks to Commander Vulcan and a few nobles who were able to be rescued from that hell.

(Has that demon really returned to torment me?!)

Now, the fear of death did not compare to the paranoia that the "demon" would return to finish the job.

"Everyone stay calm!!"

Then, trying to convince himself with his own words, he shouted as the mental image hit him with the force of a punch, recalling the madness that erupted for days after the rescue and the existences that hunted and dismembered every living being that were called Straw Demons.

"We are safe!"

Their bodies, a charred black, with straw sharpened like blades, and eyes red as fire...

"Because those things disappeared!!"

... He remembered the claws and the variable demonic shapes.

"We are not the same anymore!!"

And above all, the worst one: the one that seemed covered in rust, that shed blood from its eye sockets while hunting, taking what people most cherished.

"Listen to me!"

Then, the Leader clenched his ax, channeling the terror of his memories.

"Since we fled that declining kingdom and left the tragedy behind, we have grown!"

The tremors reminded him of that glorious kingdom, its downfall, the humiliation, the fear, and the desperation of having to flee.

"We are no longer the weak ones who could be trampled in that way!"

But that man no longer existed.

"We are the ones who trample now!"

He recalled how he and most of the surviving inhabitants crossed the sea, pillaging and gaining power with every city.

"This cave is our lair, protected by our strength and our defenses!"

He raised his fist, declaring with his gaze sweeping across his subordinates.

"Here we have the advantage!"

His voice rose into a roar that drowned out the fear.

"Ask the Mountain-Smasher Adventurer we enslaved! Ask the merchant guards we stripped! Whatever comes, we will face it and kill it! And what we cannot kill, we will take!"

The speech, full of bravado and truth, injected a dose of desperate motivation into the Bandits, causing them to nod with shouts and cheers.

"So stop whining....!"

(SSSHHH-FWOOOSH!)

But just then, when the Leader was smiling with cruel satisfaction, feeling that he had reasserted his control over his people and his own terror...

(KABOOM-CRAASSH!!!)

A new and terrifying vibration, much sharper and closer than the previous ones, interrupted everything.

"?!"

The rocky structure of the lair cracked in a way that chilled the blood of everyone present as they turned in disbelief at what had fallen.

(Hissssssss...)

The meteorite landed right in the hall, destroying the walls and every magical barrier in the process, exactly behind the Leader and in front of all the Bandits.

(Kssssshhhh...)

Dust and smoke filled the air, and in the center of the destruction lay the meteorite, which was now slowly beginning to crack open.

(SSSSSHHHHHHHH!!!)

It was then that a curtain of hissing steam was released everywhere, creating an atmosphere of inescapable suspense in which the huge broken shell of the meteorite lay in the center of the breach, beginning to open.

(KRAK-SHHHH!!!)

It was thus that the cloak covering the inner figure slowly returned to its position, and the resonant sound of a sword slamming into the rock floor silenced the last whimper of the Bandits.

"....."

And so, from within the steam and molten metal, a kneeling Knight emerged.

"Haaaa... Haaa... Haa..."

His shoulders rose and fell with painful effort as he gasped slowly and heavily, the air he exhaled whistling through the slits of his helmet.

"... You all."

Slowly, the Knight raised his head.

"Where... Is...?"

And with a voice that was not a shout, but a deep, grave echo, laden with the silent strength of one who has traveled through agony, the Knight asked.

(Erupt!!)

At that very instant, the Knight's body began to be coated in gray flames, flickering around him.

"And who the hell are you?!"

The Bandit Leader and the rest of the Bandits, with their recently instilled morale now broken by terror, tensed their weapons, aiming at the figure engulfed in gray flames.

"Perhaps..."

But from the kneeling figure, the deep, grave voice rose again, barely above a whisper...

"... Are you enemies?"

... He asked them.

"...."

The Leader, in response, desperately clinging to his speech of strength, noticed the Knight's heavy breathing and the way the gray flames flickered from fatigue.

(Whoever he is, he's injured, exhausted... He has no strength!)

This was how his mind, shaped by arrogance and the need for control, gave him an order.

(This is an opportunity!)

And following his greed, he took position with his ax, unaware that it would be his biggest and final mistake.

"Kill him!"

It was thus that the Leader gave the order that would doom him and his men.

(SLASH!!)

For in a blink that the eye could not register, everything was over.

"Huh...?"

A searing, clean, dry pain hit him.

(PLAF!)

He fell backward, his vision inverted, his ax clattering to the ground with a dull metallic sound.

(What... happened...?)

Around him, the screams of his men were muffled as they fell, their torsos separated from the lower halves of their bodies while blood and guts stained the floor.

"I'm sorry..."

Hearing that murmur, the Leader saw his own inert lower half beside him. The cut was so precise and fast that his consciousness lingered for a few painful seconds.

"....."

In his final moments, his gaze followed the line of the cut. The sword slash had not only dismembered all the Bandits, but had sliced through the thick rock wall right behind him, opening a direct passage to the dungeon where they held that warrior woman prisoner.

(I see...)

His consciousness faded, but before the darkness claimed him, he saw the Knight.

"I really... am sorry."

Standing with the sword raised... Apologizing.

(I made a mistake...)

Seeing that was the last thought of the former noble, before his body slumped into a puddle of his own blood.