I tried to ignore the voices and go to sleep, but they wouldn't shut up, so I went closer. When I heard the voices more clearly, I saw several lights like those of a campfire. It looked like there was a camp here. I crept through the bushes, trying to cover my large body, until I finally found the people who were arguing.
"Idiot, the system told me first," said a bald man. "My little brother, the system told me first," said another bald man with red eyes, pointing at himself with his thumb. "You're not children anymore," said a man with a scar covering half his face. The argument calmed down a little. "And how do we divide the rewards?" said the man with the scar. "Who said we should divide the rewards?" said the red-eyed bald man, pulling out an axe. The man with the scar pulled out a dagger, and his brother pulled out a mace.
The members of each leader followed suit. When the members and leaders of each faction were about to fight each other, a voice calmed the situation. "First, we have to raze the village, then you can kill each other." A tall woman spoke. Her entire body was covered in thin armor, and at first glance, she appeared to be agile. The brothers lowered their weapons, as did the man with the scar. Everything calmed down, and each leader went to their camp while the members accompanied their respective leaders, unaware that someone was watching them.
{Bandits} I don't know how many there are, but I do not doubt that they outnumber us. I'm too nervous. I need to get out of here. My forehead began to sweat, my face, my hands, my feet, and my whole body were in extreme stress. I carefully moved away from that place.
As I moved through the wooded terrain with poor visibility due to the darkness of night, I kept bumping into trees, but apparently, I didn't alert anyone, or they were too far away. I ran to warn Idro and prepare the defenses, desperately quickening my pace. I was so worried that I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. "AAHH!" I tripped over a log on the ground and screamed at the sudden obstacle, then laughed a little and turned my head. I had left a big hole in the log. I sighed, and as I got up, a flock of birds chirped in chaotic song. I think I scared them with the noise I made. I relaxed and quickened my pace again. I had to get there. I didn't want those people to burn down the village. I didn't want to fail again.
The man, wearing a cape that almost reached his feet, ran as fast as he could, but his heavy body alerted the sharpest ears. Camus stopped for a moment, and in that spontaneous moment, a dagger was thrown at him. With his heightened senses, the man covered himself with his arms. Blood was going to run across the floor again.
Everything is silent. I don't know where he is. The dagger pierced my flesh a little. I removed the dagger from my arms and tried to wield it, but I couldn't. My hands were too big; they covered the entire blade of the dagger. Even so, I gripped it tightly.
I couldn't see much, and everything was covered in vegetation. Would my enemy be able to see anything in the darkness? I moved a little, but nothing happened. I advanced slowly toward the village, listening intently for any sound, any strange movement, getting closer and closer to the village.
The blood dripping from the tip of the dagger left a small trail that Camus would not notice.
A man with a mark covering half his face stalked Camus, his experienced eyes analyzing him carefully. {What would be the best move? Attack or continue observing?"} One could say that he had the advantage, but he believed they were on equal footing. The man he was facing was no match for him. He was like a rock; he could scratch, tear, and mark his body, but that wouldn't kill him. He would still be standing, so he decided to observe.
His beast-like body, which acted almost like armor, repelled his ranged attacks with daggers, so he resorted to his other resources. A longbow might immobilize him by aiming at the weakest parts of his legs: {knees}. With that quick thought, he prepared the bow. He had the advantage of the environment; he could see better thanks to one of his abilities, but every ability has its limits.
The arrow is prepared, the string is pulled taut, the biceps stretch as does the shoulder, the body prepares itself, and the environment falls silent. The arrow is shot with unimaginable speed, an iron tip with a small blue aura piercing the leaves and the air until it reaches its target: skin, muscle, fat, and finally bone, and the body cries out in pain.
He has hit his mark.