"Are those the people you've warned me about?" I asked upon hearing the commotion.

  "Yes, bandits," Madeline nodded.

  The gravity of the situation settled over us like a heavy fog, thick with the threat of danger. Or at least it should have. But I wasn’t particularly worried or afraid. It was strange, bandits were not to be trifled with, especially for a small village like Gork, which, as far as I could tell, only had peons. Yet Madeline didn’t seem all that preoccupied. Sure, she was surprised by the sound of their hoofsteps, and she seemed worried, but not as much as I expected. Or at the very least, she didn’t look as frightened as I would have imagined.

  It was as if she had fears, but not to the extent of her life. Well, it felt that way until she turned toward me. It was then that I felt this "fear" peak. As to why it was the case, I had my own theory.

  As the sound of hooves drew nearer, I asked, "What do we do?" Madeline turned to me with a steely resolve in her eyes. "Nothing. They’re earlier than usual this month, but they should just pass, take what they came to take, then leave."

  As if having read my thoughts, Madeline offered me a small, sad smile. "I can tell what you're thinking, but that's just how it is."

  I nodded, understanding dawning upon me. "So they're just here for extortion then."

  "Exactly," Madeline confirmed, her gaze distant as if lost in memories of past encounters with these bandits. "They come every month, demanding tribute in exchange for not destroying what little we have left. It's a vicious cycle, one we've been trapped in for years since death," she let out a self-deprecating chuckle, "at least the bandit leader has the decency to leave enough resources for the village to sustain itself."

  "I see." With those words, I, with a sense of detachment, settled back into my seat, trying to push aside the concern lingering in the air. Madeline, too, resumed her place, her demeanor a mixture of resignation and quiet strength.

  This village bandit problem was not mine. I had merely come to the village for one thing: to get a good night's sleep on a warm, non-rocky bed. Once I had achieved that, I would take my leave, making my way to the next city where I would provision myself with what I needed for a proper journey. This was none of my problem. I just hoped they wouldn't spoil the night's sleep I had stopped in this village for.

  "They should be gone soon," Madeline remarked, her voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and hope. I nodded in response, silently agreeing with her assessment.

  Returning to our table, it was as if nothing had happened, yet the room hadn't returned to its previous state. We didn't resume our conversation; instead, both of us kept our ears open, attuned to the slightest sign of the bandits' departure. We waited in anticipation, knowing that only when they were gone would I finally get the good night's sleep I very much deserved.

  Several minutes passed in tense silence. True to Madeline's prediction, there were no screams, no cries, just occasional horse neighs and hoofsteps in the distance. In fact, if it weren't for the initial commotion of the horse hooves, I wouldn't have been able to guess that there were bandits in the village at all.

  Then, just as we heard the joint sound of the horses moving in unison, it seemed as though they gathered in front of the house. I wasn't the only one to notice it; Madeline's expression turned livid, but nothing compared to the shock that crossed her face when a voice from outside called, "Auntie Madeline!"

  She turned to me with urgency in her eyes. "Stay here. Watch over Lily, I’ll go see," she said softly, indicating the sleeping form of her granddaughter.

  Without waiting for a response, she hurried towards the entrance, her footsteps quickening as she approached the door. With a determined look, she exited the room, closing the door behind her. I stood there, waiting, as the tension in the air grew palpable.

  Outside, I could still very clearly hear what was being said. The voice which I imagined to be that of the bandit leader greeted Madeline, pretending to be cordial. "Auntie Madeline, how are you doing?" he asked, his tone falsely genial.

  Madeline replied cordially, "I'm doing. My old bones are holding up just fine, thank you for asking."

  Then, the bandit leader inquired about Lily. "And how is Lily doing?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

  Madeline hesitated for a moment before replying, "She's well and happy, but she's already asleep. I would appreciate it if you could keep the noise down."

  "Heard that, boys?" the bandit leader chuckled, turning to his men, who joined in with mocking laughter.

  "We'll do our best, Auntie," the bandit leader assured her.

  Madeline, in an attempt to maintain civility, asked, "And how are you doing?"

  "I'm doing good," the bandit leader replied with a smirk. "Me and my comrades are doing just fine. It's just that we ran out of supplies, which is why we're here to gather our cut. I'm sure you're not too happy about that, but we've got to keep our men alive and happy somehow."

  He then shifted the conversation. "I heard there was a guest in the village, and that you're the one hosting them. I'd like to meet this guest."

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  Madeline immediately bristled. "Why?" she barked, her tone sharp.

  The bandit leader's tone went up as he retorted,"Why not?" but he quickly regained his composure. "After all, we're the protectors of this village. As a guest of this village, isn't it normal for us to meet them so that we can do our job properly?"

  Madeline replied firmly, "She's already asleep. I'd prefer not to disturb her."

  Even from inside the room I could tell the one to whom the voice smirked. "Then I suppose you'll have to wake her up, or perhaps you'd prefer we do it ourselves."

  Just as their voices grew louder, echoing through the night air, and their horses neighed in agitation, I, having come to a decision, muttered to myself, "Can't be helped."

  Stepping out of the door, I declared, "No need to. Your commotion has already woken me up."

  As I walked out to Madeline, who looked as worried as ever, I gave her a small smile before turning my attention towards the horse-bandits surrounding the house. There were at least a little over a dozen of them. Mentally counting "them", I couldn't help but think,

  Having lived many lifetimes, though arguably short some of them been, I had had my fair share of interactions with bandits. In fact, I was once killed by bandits, making them the fourth thing I hated most. An ideal interaction with bandits for me would typically be of the "killing on sight" variety. However, due to the policy we had established toward revenge, aimed at preventing us from winding up like the first wielder of the authority that allowed us to reincarnate again and again, I couldn't act on that urge, even though it was itching me.

  Now I have to say if there was one thing that disgusted me more than bandits, it was horse-riding bandits, as they reminded me of the one of the three things I hated more than bandits themselves.

  The bandit leader began, "When I was told the village had a guest, I didn't expect to see such a beautiful guest."

  With a forced, polite smile, I replied tersely, "Thank you for the compliment."

  The bandit leader looked to be in his late thirties, but the poorly connected beard and mustache made him appear much older. His big nose dominated his features, giving him a rather unpleasant appearance.

  Attempting to maintain a semblance of charm, the man introduced himself. "My name's Gaarth. And yours?"

  I remained silent, refusing to answer.

  One of the bandits couldn't resist teasing their leader. "Looks like the lady doesn't want to share her name, Boss."

  The bandits erupted into laughter, and Gaarth chuckled along with them, albeit somewhat awkwardly. "Drop it, guys," he instructed, casting a glance back at me that made my skin crawl.

  His gaze shifted to something else, the staff I was holding onto, and apparently without my noticing, I clenched violently.

  "It's a nice wand you got there," Gaarth remarked, with an apprehensive glance this time.

  "Yes, it is," I replied, my tone measured. "But it's not just beautiful; it's also very useful, for a lot of things. Do you wanna know what in particular?"

  "Like what?" the bandit leader asked, curiosity and apprehension evident in his tone.

  With a collected but visceral tone, I directed my words towards two other people amidst the bandits aside from him. "As a magician, I have a few spells that allow me to get rid of vermin," I said, raising my wand harmlessly toward three directions, the first aimed at the bandit leader, another toward a man to his left, and then to another one mingled amidst the other bandits. This brought about a very satisfactory reaction, which is why I continued with a smile. "Very useful when traveling. Don't you agree, Mister?"

  At that moment, I caught sight of a reaction I had been more than expecting. The man mingling among the others I had been eyeing turned toward their leader, while the one next to him whispered something into Gaarth's ear, exchanging words with their eyes. What ensued after was a strange silence that left most of the bandits gathered confused.

  Eventually, a voice broke the silence. "Gaarth! Isn't this enough already?"

  The voice sounded exhausted for it belonged to an old man, the elder of the village, who, passing around the gathered bandits, joined us. "We gave you what you came for. We even gave you more. Shouldn't it be enough already?"

  As the village elder spoke those words, it wasn't just scolding that emanated from his tone; it carried something else, a heaviness that I could sense, a disappointment that weighed heavily on his heart. And I could understand why it was there. I had been told about it; it was one of the first things I learned about the village.

  While the village currently stood without a strong figure of power like a Verdenkind, it hadn't always been the case. Less than a decade ago, the village was blessed with two Verdenkinds. One was called Gaarth, and the other was Gaarth. Despite their names sounding similar, they weren't brothers; they were just born around the same year, which led their parents to choose very similar names. Despite not being brothers, they were raised as one.

  As they grew older, one of the two, the older one, Gaarth, followed in his father's footsteps to become the chief of the village. The other, Gaarth, decided that perhaps his future was not in this small village, too small for two Verdenkinds, apparently to his taste. So, he left, leaving the village to the care of Gaarth, which seemed to work out well enough, considering there were no monsters around to make it a struggle.

  However, things took a turn for the worse when Gaarth returned to the village some time later. The details of what happened were never fully disclosed, but it was clear that Gaarth had done the unthinkable, taking down Gaarth. The old man didn't elaborate on the circumstances, but whatever happened led the village to anger and excommunicate Gaarth. He left, but unfortunately, he didn't leave it at that. He returned, seizing the position of "protector" that he now boasted.

  The disappointment in the old man's eyes was that of a father towards someone he once considered family, a second son that had ended up being the killer of his true son, the one who made Lily his granddaughter an orphan.

  For a moment, an uncomfortable silence settled over us, the bandits included. While Gaarth's expression remained stoic from atop his horse, I could easily tell it was a mask hiding whatever emotions he may have been feeling. I cast a quick glance towards Madeline, who shared the same feeling of disappointment as the elder. It was in that that I noticed him cast a heavily apprehensive glance towards me—me, who very well awaited his next move.

  While our policy toward "revenge" or anything that might come across as revenge bound me to not kill bandits on sight, if a bandit were to try, I would be free to do what must be done. That's what I was doing here, I was waiting for him or any of his men to give me a reason to paint this small village’s streets red. And perhaps he felt that. Perhaps that's why he, after exchanging a nod with the two people I could tell were his captains, said, "I was about to take my leave anyway."

  Turning to the bandits, he commanded, "You heard me, all of you!"

  The bandits all seemed annoyed by the development but left without a comment, dispersing into the night without further confrontation.

  With the bandits gone, a heavy silence descended upon us, leaving only the sound of their fading hoofbeats echoing in the distance. The village elder stood there, his shoulders slumped with the weight of countless possible emotions. Madeline, too, wore a somber expression, her eyes betraying a mix of sadness, anger, and frustration.

  Gathering himself, the village elder turned around and walked up toward us. "Are you both alright?" he asked softly.

  I nodded, and Madeline sighed heavily before also nodding.

  "Indeed. I'm sorry you two had to go through this," he said truthfully apologetic.

  As we stood there, I noticed light coming from other villagers, seemingly approaching to check on us. Not wanting anything to do with it, I declared, "I should go to bed. I'll be leaving tomorrow; a long day awaits me."

  Neither of the two protested. "I'll help you with your bed," Madeline offered.

  "Thanks," I simply replied.