The air in the village was thick with the copper tang of blood and the suffocating stench of burning grain. As Noah and his small troop crested the final hill, the devastation lay bare before them. The thirty bandits weren't just looting; they were reveling in the destruction. They had gathered a group of terrified villagers in the center of the square, forcing them to watch as their winter survival was tossed into the flames.
However, as Noah drew closer, he noticed something his initial panic had obscured. These weren't the invincible warriors of legend. Their leather armor was cracked and caked with old mud, and their faces were sunken, their eyes shadowed by the dark circles of prolonged malnutrition. They moved with the desperate, jerky energy of men who hadn't seen a full meal in weeks—deserters driven to madness by a kingdom that had forgotten to feed them. Even their leader, Iron-Neck Kael, had a tremor in his hand as he gripped his torch.
"Lance, take the men and flank them from the stables!" Noah commanded. His voice had lost its youthful tremor, replaced by a crystalline coldness that made Lance shiver. "Do not let a single one of them escape into the woods. I'm taking the leader."
"But my lord, that's suicide!" Lance protested. Despite the bandits' haggard appearance, they were still seasoned killers. "Even if they are starving, Kael was a mercenary sergeant. Without mana, you can't possibly—"
"I didn't ask for your opinion, Captain. I gave an order." Noah didn't wait for a reply. He spurred his horse into a gallop, his old, chipped sword held low.
The thundering of hooves drew Kael's attention. The brute turned, tossing the torch aside and gripping his massive claymore with both hands. A jagged scar ran from his ear to his throat, pulsing red, but his breath was labored even before the fight began.
"A noble? Coming to me?" Kael roared, though a coughing fit briefly interrupted his bravado. "I'll split you and your horse in half, little kid!"
The collision was brutal. Noah leaped from his saddle just as Kael swung the massive blade. The claymore whistled through the air, narrowly missing Noah's chest but shattering a wooden cart behind him into splinters. Noah hit the mud, rolling and coming up quickly. He could feel the sheer pressure of the brute's strength, yet he also saw Kael stumble, his legs weak from hunger.
Noah charged, his heart hammering. He swung his dull sword, and Kael parried with a heavy grunt. The impact sent a vibration through Noah's arm, but he noticed Kael was slow to recover. The bandit was breathing like a bellows, his stamina depleted by the weight of his own armor.
"You're fast, little rat," Kael sneered, trying to deliver a heavy kick, but his movement was sluggish.
Noah saw his opening. As Kael overextended with a desperate, heavy overhead strike, Noah didn't retreat. He lunged forward, sliding through the mud beneath the arc of the claymore. The heavy blade slammed into the earth, and in that split second of recovery where Kael's malnourished muscles failed him, Noah drove his chipped sword upward.
The blade sank deep into the brute's throat.
Kael's eyes bulged. A choked, gurgling sound escaped his lips as blood erupted from the wound, drenching Noah's face and hands. Noah didn't pull away. He stood up, maintaining his grip on the hilt, looking directly into the dying man's eyes.
[TARGET NEUTRALIZED.][INITIATING ECHO THEFT...]
Noah felt it then—a violent, searing heat flowing from Kael's body through the sword and into his own arms. It wasn't a gentle process. It felt like his muscles were being torn apart and rewoven with iron wire. He was absorbing the experience and the raw power Kael had spent a lifetime accumulating, even as the man's physical form had withered.
[STEALING ECHO: BASIC SWORDMANSHIP (RANK E)][STEALING WEAPON: THE BONE-CRACKER CLAYMORE (RANK E)]
Noah let go of his old, broken sword and gripped the hilt of Kael's massive claymore while the man was still falling.
[SKILL ACQUIRED: CYCLONE SLASH]
Noah turned toward the other twenty-nine bandits. They were struggling against Noah's guards, their tactical experience hampered by their exhaustion and old, festering wounds from previous skirmishes. Lance was bleeding from a cut on his brow, but he was holding his own against three bandits who were panting for breath.
"Hey! Look at the Baron!" one of the bandits shouted, his voice cracking. "He killed Kael! Get him!"
Five bandits broke away and charged toward Noah. He planted his feet in the blood-soaked soil and felt the BASIC SWORDMANSHIP Echo thrumming in his chest, giving him more confidence.
As they reached him, Noah swung.
"Cyclone Slash!"
The move was a blur of silver and red. The sheer momentum of the heavy blade, backed by stolen power, created a lethal arc. The first two bandits, too weak to dodge, were torn in half. The third tried to block with a rusted shield, but the claymore shattered the metal and the brittle bone behind it.
The remaining two stopped, their faces splattered with the gore of their companions.
"What... what are you?" one of them stammered, dropping his axe. He was too tired to fight, too tired to even run.
Noah didn't answer. He stepped over the mangled corpses, his eyes glowing with the blue light of the System. He realized then that the world was full of "Echos" waiting to be claimed—wasted power trapped in dying bodies.
'If the Kingdom won't protect my people, I will build a world where no one has to fear these rats ever again.' Noah thought
"I am the one who will bring order to this ruin," Noah said, his voice echoing in the square. "And you are merely the first step."
He lunged again. With every swing of the stolen claymore, heads rolled. The guards stopped fighting, watching in awe as their Baron transformed into a whirlwind of slaughter. By the time the last bandit fell, Noah stood in the center of the square, surrounded by thirty corpses.
[COMBAT ENDED.]
Noah looked down at the pile of discarded, rusted bandit weapons. They were garbage, but in his hands, they were the start of an empire.
"Collect the weapons," Noah ordered, looking at the wounded Lance. "Even the rusted ones. We have a world to take back, and I need every scrap of steel."