After hours of silent pursuit, they watched from the shadows as the man stumbled past the wooden palisade that protected the camp, panting like a dog.
The base wasn't a massive fortress, instead it was a repurposed ruin…an old outpost with a few watchtowers and wooden fortifications hastily built atop crumbling stone. A band of men, twenty or thirty at most, gathered around small fires, their weapons leaning against logs and barrels.
The bandit leader's boots pounded against the dirt as he fled, his breath ragged. He didn't stop, not when his legs burned, not when his sides ached. Fleeing like a wounded animal, scrambling toward his base.
The wooden gates groaned as they opened, and the moment he stumbled inside, his knees buckled.
Dawn was breaking when he reached the main hideout. He had to warn Oleg.
"They... they're all dead!" he wheezed.
A hush fell over the room.
"My lord…" he coughed. "They… they came in the night… slaughtered us…"
Silence.
Then, a slow, deliberate set of footsteps.
Oleg emerged from the shadows, his hulking frame nearly blocking out the torchlight behind him. His skin was a patchwork of scar tissue and unnatural mutations…one arm twice the size of a normal man's, veins bulging with unnatural energy. His face, though human, bore inhuman eyes, glowing a sickly yellow.
He stopped a few feet away, staring down at the kneeling bandit.
"You ran?" Oleg's voice was calm. Too calm.
The leader swallowed hard. "M-My lord, they were demons in the dark! We didn't stand a chance…"
Oleg moved faster than a man his size should. One moment, he was standing.
Oleg's massive hand wrapped around the man's throat.
The bandit clawed at his grip, choking.
Oleg lifted him effortlessly off the ground, tilting his head. "The only reason I let you lead that camp… was because I thought you had a spine."
"But you led them here?"
The leader said. "I… I had no choice! They...."
Snap.
The leader's body hit the floor, lifeless.
Oleg turned to his men. "We might have some guest visiting us soon, be prepared men."
The Battle for the Ruins
The moon was a mere sliver in the sky, veiled by clouds as Kaavi and his group crouched near the ridgeline, peering down at the enemy encampment. The bandit leader unknowingly guiding them straight to his master's doorstep.
Now, they watched as the man stumbled into the base…watchtowers guarding its perimeter. Smoke rose from fires within, and men moved through the camp, some patrolling, others laughing over cheap drink.
Kaavi and his group watched the execution unfold.
"He's dead," Ilyas murmured.
Kaavi's gaze was locked on Oleg. "That man is no ordinary fighter."
"Mutant?" Danil asked.
"Something worse." Said Kaavi.
They didn't have time to wait. The enemy was rallying.
Kaavi turned to the three men beside him.
Ilyas, his old friend, gripped his sword, eyes sharp with a veteran's instinct.
Danil, had already picked out vantage points, his fingers resting lightly on the fletching of an arrow.
Ren was practically invisible, his dark clothing blending into the night.
Ilyas exhaled. "This is manageable."
Kaavi nodded. "Danil, take out the sentries. Ren, eliminate anyone patrolling the east wall…quietly. Once the chaos begins, Ilyas and I will lead the charge inside."
Danil smirked, already drawing his bow. "By the time they know what's happening, half of them will be dead."
Ren said nothing. He simply melted into the shadows.
Kaavi exhaled. "We strike now."
Ilyas and Danil nodded.
They descended upon the ruins like death itself.
Perfect.
The hunt began.
The first attack tore through the front gate…Danil's fire arrows setting barricades ablaze.
Ren slipped inside through the eastern gap, dispatching guards before they could even sound the alarm.
Kaavi and Ilyas charged through the smoke, blades singing through the air.
The battle was chaos.
Danil took the high ground, his arrows raining down death upon any bandit who tried to regroup.
Ren danced through the carnage, his daggers cutting down enemies before they could even register his presence.
Kaavi fought like a demon. His sword carved a brutal path, every movement precise, efficient, lethal.
Death in Silence
Danil's arrows whispered through the night, finding their marks with deadly precision. A sentry atop the watchtower fell, his body slumping over the wooden railing. Another guard barely had time to gasp before an arrow took him clean through the throat.
Ren moved unseen, a spectre in the dark. His dagger slid across throats, his victims barely registering their deaths before crumpling to the ground.
By the time the bandits realized something was wrong, nearly a third of their men were already dead.
Then Kaavi and Ilyas struck.
Kaavi's blade flashed, cutting down the first man before he could even draw his weapon. Ilyas followed close behind, his sword carving a brutal path through flesh and bone.
Panic spread.
Danil perched atop the ruins, loosing arrow after arrow, each shot perfect, cutting down bandits who tried to regroup.
Ren worked the chaos, moving unnoticed behind enemies, stabbing at the base of their skulls or slicing hamstrings to cripple them before finishing them off.
It was slaughter.
And then….