Paul (Bandit) POV

  It was his first ambush, and it had gone better than he expected. The people accompanying him were still strangers, but they managed to work together well enough. Paul had been part of Rex's crew for only a few weeks and had been hoping to be invited to join a more profitable venture. Although he did not particularly enjoy banditry, options were limited due to the dukedom’s high taxes and unavailable work in such a remote region of the kingdom.

  For Paul, this was merely a temporary diversion in his life until he received his class. He would be turning twenty years old next month, and with a new class, he would finally leave this region behind. Everyone else in the bandit group already had their classes, and the advantages were something to behold. The opportunities afforded by a class were significantly greater than those available to the classless or individuals under the age of twenty. Paul would be able to gain Class Perks and level up instead of being stuck at Level zero indefinitely. He eagerly anticipated leaving this place behind, along with his unpleasant memories. An image of his mother's dead eyes staring back at him flashed in his thoughts before he refocused on looting the corpse of a man in his late forties.

  “Hey, your name’s Paul, right?” A bandit he had forgotten the name of spoke.

  The guy was at least a foot shorter than him and had a gut that Paul didn’t have since he was a baby. Truth be told, Paul was probably the most physically fit person the the entire crew. Well, maybe except for Rex. That man was no joke.

  “Yes?”

  “Did ya find any Tokens on one of them. Today was a small haul. Only 43 High Tokens in the trunk.”

  Paul sighed and shook his head in defeat.

  “No luck.”

  The bandit clicked his tongue at this, annoyance on his face. While the other bandits seemed even more displeased. Paul just shrugged and got up from his feet. Just as they were about to head back to the camp, rustling could be heard nearby. Immediately, everyone went on guard. As someone who technically had formal training from his late pops, Paul was the first to notice, his large frame and toned muscles tensed as he shifted in a practiced stance.

  Coming from the foliage was what first seemed like a beast, but then revealed itself to be a man. It was a huge man who had his danger sense flaring instantly. It was at that moment that Paul knew that the specter of death was upon them as he watched this man. The extremely fit physique, the large battle axe in his hand, and the rugged attire were not what he feared, but their eyes. The eyes were calculative and had seen more deaths than he could ever imagine. That was what his instincts told him, and before anyone did anything, Paul lowered the sword that he had raised to his side. This was not a battle he could fight. He did not care what the System had labeled this man as. Levels did not matter against this force of destruction.

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  Thalric POV

  Thalric’s eyes went over the crowd before him. He noticed the shift in posture of a large boy in the far back change from a stance of confrontation to one of passiveness. As if signifying that he did not want an altercation. The boy’s gaze avoided meeting Thalrics deliberately.

  ‘Good instincts.’ He mused.

  However, as he observed the boy longer, he realized that the boy did not have a level indicator whatsoever. How odd. Everything he had encountered so far had some sort of level. What made him different?

  The train of thought ran short as a sudden shout came from one of the bandits in front of the group. It was from a heavy-set bandit who was in the lead. He waved his rusted scabbard at him threateningly.

  “You did not see a thing here! Beat it before we gut you!”

  Thalric observed the man closely. He was not as confident as he acted, but his words did seem to rile up the fire in the eyes of most of the others, aside from the prudent boy off to the side.

  “Are you threatening me?” He asked.

  “Y-Yeah, we are, what about it?! G-Get lost!” Another chipped in from behind.

  Thalric sighed, rolled his shoulders, and started walking calmly to the group.

  ----

  Paul POV

  The battle was over in less than a minute. Though calling it a battle was a stretch. Paul could not follow any of the man’s movements as he effortlessly maneuvered and butchered his way through the group of men before him. He did not know when, but his sword had dropped out of his hand from the constant trembling of his body. The stories his father told him of warriors who could make the abilities of seasoned soldiers and adventurers look useless resonated with what he had seen. He had brushed them off at the time because even if they existed, there was no way he would stumble upon a warrior of such caliber. Now he knew that was a naive assumption.

  Paul involuntarily took a step back as the embodiment of carnage started walking towards him. His back ran into the carriage, and he had been cornered. He winced, expecting death at any moment. But the man paused a few feet away from him and then pointed to him.

  “Is there more of you? Maybe in a camp nearby?”

  It took a moment for the words to register, and then he nodded, a large lump in his throat. Though when he did not immediately answer, the man lifted his battle axe and aimed it at Paul.

  “I asked you a question, boy. Speak!” He commanded.

  Paul nodded vigorously.

  “Y-yes! We have a camp a few miles away from here, deeper in the forest!”

  “Good, lead me there.”

  The man did not bother saying another word and looked at him expectantly.

  Paul nodded again and began to walk in the camp’s direction, with the man trailing him.

  ‘This is going to get worse, isn’t it…’ The boy grimaced in thought, passing the mutilated bodies strewn across the ground with trepidation in his heart.