Rebirth System: Blood and Ash

At first, it was chaotic.

The three bandits were unused to the incredible power flowing through them, which made them uncoordinated, often tripping over themselves or each other. Silas would swing too hard and stumble forward, leaving himself exposed.

Regin’s heavy-handed sword strikes were easy for Borag to parry, and Markin’s quick movements made him a blur, but his lack of strength meant Borag barely flinched when he managed to land a hit.

At this point, Borag was laughing, clearly enjoying the one-sided fight. He ducked under another wild swing from Silas, then countered with a quick elbow to the man’s ribs. Silas grunted, stumbling back, his vest absorbing most of the damage but leaving him dazed.

"Come on!" Borag taunted, stepping forward to land a solid punch on Regin’s vest, sending the bandit sprawling backward. "All the power our sire gave you, and yet you remain weak?"

But as the minutes passed, something began to change.

The three bandits, though still clumsy, were starting to adapt. Silas, regaining his footing, stopped relying solely on brute force. His strikes became more controlled, his movements more deliberate.

Regin, too, began to fight smarter, using the strength in his glove to counter Borag’s attacks instead of just swinging wildly. And Markin, the fastest of them, began to use his speed strategically, drawing Borag’s attention with quick jabs while the others pressed him from the sides.

Borag, who had been toying with them, started to realize—slowly but surely—they were becoming a real threat.

Silas came at him again, but this time, instead of a direct punch, he feinted left and caught Borag off-guard with a right hook, enhanced by the glove’s power. The blow connected with Borag’s jaw, and for the first time, the cultivator grunted in pain, staggering back.

"Is that still weak, huh?" Silas muttered, his confidence returning.

Regin followed up with a powerful overhead strike. Borag barely managed to block it, but the sheer force of the blow sent him reeling. Markin, seizing the opportunity, dashed in from behind, his glove’s arrow-shooter activating with a soft whirr before a small, high-speed arrow shot out, aimed directly at Borag’s leg.

The arrow hit its mark, piercing through his pants and making him stumble.

The cultivator cursed under his breath, his smirk fading. He could feel the tide of the battle turning.

The bandits pressed their advantage. Silas came in hard, landing another heavy blow on Borag’s side, the impact of his glove making the air ripple. Regin slashed at Borag’s arm, and though the cultivator managed to block it, the force of the strike sent him skidding across the ground.

Markin fired another arrow, this time grazing Borag’s shoulder.

Borag growled, his composure starting to slip. He swung out in desperation, managing to catch Silas with a wild punch to the gut, sending the bandit crashing into the ground. But before he could capitalize on the opening, Regin was already on him, landing a solid blow to his back. Borag staggered forward, blood now trickling from a cut on his lip.

Panting, Borag tried to regain his balance, but the three bandits had finally found their rhythm.

They moved in sync now—Silas using his strength to force Borag onto the defensive, Regin delivering heavy blows with his sword, and Markin darting around, harassing him with arrows and quick strikes.

Borag, for all his skill, was starting to falter.

Then it happened.

Silas lunged forward with a powerful strike, his glove crackling with energy. Borag tried to dodge, but Regin was already there, cutting off his escape with a vicious slash to his leg. Borag stumbled, and before he could react, Markin was behind him, his gloved hand raised high, ready to deliver the final blow to Borag’s exposed neck.

Time seemed to slow as the blade hovered inches from Borag’s throat. The bandits were panting, adrenaline surging through their veins. They had done it. They had brought Borag, the mighty cultivator—ruler of bandits—to his knees.

But just as Markin’s blade began its descent, a hand shot out, catching the blade mid-swing.

"That’s enough," Aric’s voice rang out, calm yet commanding.

Markin froze, his blade trapped between Aric’s fingers. The prince stood there, his grip like iron. He had appeared in a blur, effortlessly stopping the fatal blow. Borag gasped for air, sweat dripping down his face, while the three bandits looked at Aric in shock.

The prince’s cold eyes met Borag’s.

"I didn’t bring you here to die."

He released the blade and turned to Markin and the other two. "Back up."

The entire crowd of bandits was left in utter and complete shock, even Twicher, who had been completely confident in Borag’s ability to swiftly dispatch the group of three, now stood silent, left without words—a rarity for him.

"Do you see?" the prince began, his voice loud. "I told you I shall not just make you wealthy…but I shall give you the power to oppose mages and cultivators."

The bandits began to murmur among themselves as excitement raged among them.

"There are currently not enough of these devices for everyone, so they will be given out based on potential and worth," Aric announced. "The more useful you are, the better you’ll be paid, and you will be given this power as well."

"Heil sire!" the bandits began to exclaim as they raised their weapons.

"Heil sire!"

"Heil sire!"

Aric raised his hand, stopping their chants.

’Open party: Human bandits only…list by low loyalty.’

[Showing party member details.]

[Filter: Human Bandits, Loyalty]

———

House of Arkhan /

/ Bandits / Humans

Arteez Manaya | Human

STR: 2 | STM: 2 | SPD: 3

Loyalty: 3

Emotion: Greed

Potential: 8

Current worth: 0

...

———

"Arteez Manaya, step forward," Aric called out.

A short man with a scruffy beard immediately made his way out of the crowd with excitement on his face, while the rest of the bandits watched with slight envy.

Aric saw Borag shake his head slightly, perhaps in an attempt to warn him not to select that bandit in particular, but the prince simply smiled back.

Lerai clad the bandit in the devices, giving him instructions on how to use them. As soon as Lerai finished speaking, the bandit sent his gloved hand crashing into Lerai’s gut while raising the arrow glove and pointing it at Aric.

"Hahaha!" the bandit laughed hysterically. "Why work for you when I can sell this for millions?"

Aric watched as the bandit slowly began to back away, a terrifyingly long smile on the face of the prince.

"Now…watch closely what happens if you decide betrayal a choice," the prince said, almost excitedly.

"This is for punching me, bastard," Lerai muttered.

Lerai’s eyes narrowed as the bandit laughed maniacally, backing further away, greed blinding him to the danger he was in.

The young mages hand twitched, and in that moment, the tense silence erupted into a deafening screech. The devices strapped to Arteez’s body began to glow, pulsing with a dark hue. His eyes widened, and he tried to rip the glove off, frantically pulling at it.

He knew something was wrong.

"W-wait! What is this?!" Arteez screamed, his voice cracking with terror as the devices on his body began to spark wildly.

With a surge of energy, the devices detonated in a blinding flash of light.

The explosion tore through the air, shaking the ground beneath their feet. A torrent of fire and shrapnel erupted from Arteez’s body, turning him into nothing more than a cloud of blood and smoke.

The bandits watching recoiled in shock, gasps filling the air as bits of flesh and blood rained down on them.

For several seconds, it rained crimson as his remains were scattered across the clearing.

Aric stood unmoved, his expression cold and calculating, while Lerai dusted off his hands, a look of satisfaction on his face. "That’s what you get for punching me, bastard," he muttered again, louder this time, as he wiped a drop of blood off his cheek.

The bandits, now covered in the remains of their former comrade, stood in stunned silence, their earlier envy replaced with fear. No one dared to speak, their eyes wide and filled with terror.

Aric let the moment hang in the air before his voice finally broke the silence. "Loyalty is rewarded. Betrayal is punished." He gestured toward the blood-stained ground where Arteez had once stood. "I would tell you to remember this, but I know you will."

After all, fear does not forget.