The air between them was heavy.
Kairo stood with his kobolts, facing down the group of rough-looking men dressed in patched leather and carrying rusted but bloodstained weapons. Their leader, a scarred man with a black eyepatch and a chipped longsword, smirked as if the boy before him were prey that had wandered into his path.
Kairo's breath caught in his throat.
(Humans.)
Not half-corpses, not beasts, not monsters, not mutated guardian. For the first time since he had arrived in this strange world, he was standing face-to-face with full humans. His mind wrestled with the weight of it. Could he really cut them down? Could he cross that final line?
The kobolts tensed, waiting. Their slit-pupiled eyes flicked to their master, reading his hesitation.
(I can't afford doubt right now,) Kairo told himself, clenching his jaw. (If I falter, we all die. Capture, not kill—that will be my answer.)
The bandits brandished their weapons, jeering. "Oi, boss," one said nervously, "why ain't those lizards tearin' the kid apart? They're…listening to him."
"Shut it, numskulls!" the eyepatch leader barked, spitting to the side. "They're just overgrown geckos! Cut them down, and the brat'll follow. Move!"
The bandits hesitated, glancing at one another. Their unease was clear. But when the leader raised his blade and threatened to report their cowardice to the main bandit leader, "Fight, you cowards! If you don't swing your blades, I'll tell the boss you all begged like dogs to run!"
Their faces twisted with resentment. Muttering curses, they obeyed.
The fight began.
Kairo's eyes sharpened. "Formation: Iron Wall!" he commanded, activating the Command Nexus. A pulse of golden-blue light ran across the kobolts' forms. Instantly, their ragged posture shifted into rigid discipline. Shields locked together, spears braced, they advanced in unison like a tide of scaled soldiers.
The first clash was brutal. A reckless bandit swung his axe overhead, but a kobolt shield slammed upward, deflecting the blow. Another kobolt's spear darted from the side, piercing into his thigh. The man screamed, collapsing as the kobolts trampled past.
The bandits snarled, trying to swarm, but the kobolts' coordination was suffocating. Where one blocked, another struck. Their scaled hides reflected glancing blows, their low growls timed with each thrust of their spears.
"They…they're fightin' like trained soldiers!" a bandit stammered, stumbling back as his arm was cut.
"Don't falter!" the eyepatch leader shouted, swinging his sword and forcing a kobolt back with raw strength. "They're just beasts! Hack them apart!"
But his words rang hollow.
Two kobolts moved as one, slamming their shields forward to break a bandit's guard before another swept his legs from under him. Another pair forced a swordsman back, their strikes perfectly synchronized—one high, one low, leaving no room to counter.
Kairo's heart pounded as he directed the flow. Every order, every flicker of intent through the Nexus turned the kobolts into extensions of his will. The fear in the bandits' eyes deepened.
A younger bandit panicked, slashing wildly. A kobolt ducked under, hooked his arm with a shield, and drove a spear into his side. He dropped, writhing.
"Damn it, fight, you dogs!" the scout leader roared, his bravado starting to crack.
Still, the kobolts pressed on, their unity overwhelming. Every time a bandit tried to break formation, two kobolts cornered him. Shields bashed into ribs, spears punched through gaps in armor, claws raked exposed flesh.
The battlefield was a storm of grit and growls. Metal clashed, men screamed, and kobolt snarls echoed like a war chant.
The scout leader grit his teeth, cutting down one kobolt with a desperate, brutal swing. For a moment, he tasted relief—only for two more to take the fallen one's place, their eyes cold and unflinching.
"This…this is insane," he muttered under his breath, panic gnawing at his chest. His gaze darted between the disciplined kobolts and the crumbling morale of his men. Each of these creatures was as strong as their own leader—maybe stronger when united.
For the first time, true fear gripped him.
I can't win this. We can't win this.
The scout leader's eyes hardened with selfish resolve. He made his choice.
"Hold the line, idiots!" he barked, retreating a step. "Prove yourselves to the boss! Don't let him down!"
"Wait, what?! Where the hell are you going?!" one of his men shouted, blood streaking his face.
But the eyepatched leader had already turned. He bolted, pushing past crumbling stone and tangled vines, his boots pounding against the dirt. His men's curses chased after him.
"You bastard!"
"Coward!"
"Don't leave us here!"
Their cries only fed his desperate run.
Back in the fray, the kobolts closed the net. The remaining bandits fought with panic instead of grit, slashing wildly, stumbling over rubble. One by one they were subdued, knocked to the ground with spear hafts and shield slams, pinned beneath scaled claws.
"Capture them," Kairo ordered firmly, breath ragged. His voice cut through the chaos. The kobolts obeyed, binding the bandits with crude ropes and hauling them to their feet.
The battlefield stilled, but Kairo's heart did not. His eyes flicked to the distant forest path where the eyepatch leader had vanished.
(He'll be back. And next time, not alone.)
The bound bandits cried out bitterly as the kobolts dragged them along.
"Let us go!"
"You can't do this!"
"Our leader'll skin you alive, brat!"
Kairo ignored them, his mind elsewhere. Already, he was planning. Reinforcements would come. He had to be ready.
By the time they reached the territory walls, sweat clung to Kairo's brow. Within, the settlement was stirring. Theo and Shiri stood in the training yard, wooden swords clashing, Onyx stood besides them, observing their training. Shiri's movements were smooth and sharp; Theo's were sloppy but full of determination.
"Big bro Kairo!" Theo called, dropping his sword as he saw the kobolts dragging their haul, he wasn't scared of them that much anymore. "You brought back so much meat!" His eyes gleamed. "Shiri, look! Roasted meat tonight, right?"
Shiri chuckled, his usual composure softening at the boy's excitement. But when his gaze shifted to the captured bandits, his smile vanished. His expression hardened into cold steel.
"Kairo," he said sharply, striding over. "Where did you get those?"
Kairo sighed. "Outside the walls. They stumbled across us. I fought them off—but one escaped."
Shiri's jaw tightened. "Foolish. Bandits never travel in groups this small. That was a scouting party." His eyes burned with anger. "And you let one get away."
Kairo's chest sank. He knew Shiri was right.
(This isn't over. It's only the beginning.)
Far away, deep within the forested ruins, the eyepatch leader stumbled into the sprawling bandit encampment. His chest heaved, sweat slick on his face. Ignoring the jeers and questions of other bandits, he staggered toward the largest tent.
"The leader," he gasped. "I need to see the leader. Now."
Moments later, he knelt inside, his forehead pressed against the dirt. Across from him, lounging on a crude throne of bones and scavenged wood, sat the bandit leader. His eyes glowed with cold cruelty as he leaned forward.
"What happened?" the leader asked, his voice calm, almost bored.
The eyepatch man swallowed hard. "Monsters…a boy…a lord…" His words tumbled out in panic.
The bandit leader's eyes narrowed, a cruel grin forming—war was coming, and Kairo had unknowingly sparked the fire.