Bandits

As Ethan walked through the quiet forest, with Greg's heavy footsteps keeping pace beside him, a thought crept into his mind. It was clear that Greg still followed his commands and understood him, responding without hesitation whenever Ethan gave him an order. But that raised a question—how was Greg still understanding him? Was it their connection through the Mind Element? Or something else entirely?

When he had upgraded Greg's mind with the Mind Element, the mental link between them had been strong and direct. Back then, Ethan had still been in his mana form, fully able to manipulate elements and feel their presence. Now, with his powers muted inside this human body, he couldn't exactly check if that link was still there.

He glanced over at Greg, the bronze and stone golem lumbering beside him, its expressionless face giving nothing away. Greg had always been quiet, following orders with a calm, reliable presence. Even now, without being able to sense the Mind Element, Greg seemed to understand every command Ethan gave him.

"Do you... still hear me the same way?" Ethan asked aloud, half expecting no response. Greg, of course, didn't speak, but the way he turned his head slightly toward Ethan suggested a sort of silent acknowledgment.

It was strange. Ethan couldn't feel that mental connection as he had before, but somehow it was still there, functioning despite his loss of control over his powers. Maybe the Mind Element had embedded itself so deeply into Greg that their bond no longer required Ethan to actively maintain it. Or perhaps the golem's mind had evolved enough on its own to understand and follow him without needing constant magical influence.

He sighed, knowing that without his ability to tap into mana, the answer would remain a mystery for now. "I guess you're just more capable than I thought," he muttered with a small smile. Greg's presence was comforting, even though Ethan didn't fully understand how the connection between them worked anymore.

Regardless of how it functioned, Greg was still there—reliable, loyal, and an ever-present companion on this journey to Greystone.

---

After hours of walking, with Greg by his side, Ethan had settled into a rhythm. The journey through the forest was long, but the path was mostly quiet. They'd taken breaks to rest, and once, they had carefully snuck around a large green bear, its massive form lumbering through the underbrush. Fortunately, the bear hadn't noticed them, and they had continued without incident.

But now, as they moved further along the path, the peace was broken by the unmistakable sound of movement up ahead. Ethan froze in his tracks, his senses sharpening. There was something wrong about the way the forest had suddenly grown quiet, the usual sounds of nature fading into the background.

Then he heard it—footsteps, too quiet to be animals, too deliberate to be travelers. The sound of leaves crunching and branches snapping came from the trees ahead, and Ethan's pulse quickened. He strained his ears, focusing on the movements. Several figures, no doubt, moving quietly but not quietly enough.

Bandits.

Ethan's eyes darted toward Greg, who had stopped as soon as Ethan did, standing motionless beside him. The golem would be a formidable deterrent, but bandits often relied on numbers or tricks. Ethan's hand instinctively moved to his steel sword, resting at his side. He didn't have the same connection to his mana anymore, but with Greg and his sword, he still had options.

Keeping his voice low, he whispered, "Stay ready, Greg."

The golem remained silent, but Ethan could feel the tension in the air. Slowly, he crouched down, trying to make out the figures hidden among the trees. He could see faint outlines—shadows moving behind the brush. They were likely lying in wait, watching him, preparing to strike when the moment seemed right.

Ethan had to make a decision. He could try to avoid them, slipping away before they had the chance to spring their trap, or he could confront them, hoping that Greg's intimidating presence would be enough to scare them off before things turned violent.

His mind raced, calculating the best move.

Ethan's heart raced as he realized the bandits had noticed him. He wasn't trained with a sword, and without his magic, he was far from confident in handling a fight. His mind raced with options, but the best plan for now seemed to be to keep moving—stay calm, act natural, and hope the bandits didn't make their move.

He glanced at Greg, the golem's heavy form looming beside him, a silent but imposing presence. If things went south, Greg would be his best chance. The golem's strength and resilience would easily overpower a group of bandits, especially if they were relying on stealth and ambush tactics.

Ethan tightened his grip on the steel sword at his side, not drawing it but keeping it ready. He began walking again, his pace steady but unhurried, trying not to show any sign of panic. His senses were on high alert, though, listening for any sudden movement or the sound of footsteps rushing forward. He knew if they decided to attack, he wouldn't have long to react.

He heard a rustle—faint but closer than before. His pulse quickened.

"Greg, stay ready," Ethan whispered under his breath, barely moving his lips.

They continued walking down the path, each step feeling heavier than the last. The presence of the bandits lingered just out of sight, their intentions unclear but far too close for comfort. Ethan felt the tension in the air tighten, and for a moment, it seemed like maybe—just maybe—they would make it past without confrontation.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw movement. One of the bandits stepped out from the cover of the trees, blocking the path. His dirty leather armor and crooked grin made his intentions clear. Two more figures emerged behind him, flanking either side of the road. The leader, the one who had stepped forward, raised a hand, signaling for them to stop.

"Well now, what do we have here?" the bandit sneered. "Travelers, eh? Looks like you've got some goods on you. Hand them over, and no one gets hurt."

Ethan swallowed hard, keeping his hand on his sword but not drawing it. His eyes flicked to Greg, who stood unmoving, waiting for Ethan's command. He knew that if this turned into a fight, the bandits wouldn't stand a chance against the golem.

But before he could decide what to do, the bandit leader took a step forward, clearly trying to intimidate. "I'm not asking twice, boy."

Ethan made his decision. He didn't have time to deal with this. If they attacked, Greg would handle it. "Greg, go all out," Ethan ordered sharply, his voice low but firm.

Without hesitation, Greg sprang into action, his heavy bronze and stone limbs moving with surprising speed. The golem charged toward the bandits, and the leader's sneer turned to a look of shock as Greg barreled toward him, a massive fist already raised.

Ethan didn't wait to see the outcome. He turned and ran, heart pounding, knowing that the bandits would either be too focused on Greg to chase him—or would decide to pursue. The moment he heard footsteps behind him, he knew it was the latter.

One of the bandits had decided to chase.

Ethan didn't look back, but with his heart racing, he pulled the spear from his back as he ran. He felt the footsteps getting closer, the bandit gaining ground. With a quick twist, he turned and threw the spear. The projectile flew through the air, not aiming for a kill but to slow the attacker down. The bandit dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the spear, but it bought Ethan a few precious seconds.

He reached for his steel sword, unsheathing it as he kept running, knowing that if the bandit caught up, he would have to stand and fight.

Ethan kept running, his breath growing ragged as he pushed his body to its limits. His human form wasn't built for this kind of endurance, and he could feel his legs starting to weaken. The bandit was still chasing, his footsteps thudding against the forest floor, but Ethan knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Eventually, the burning in his legs became too much, and he skidded to a stop, turning around to face his pursuer. His heart pounded in his chest as he raised the steel sword, though his hands were shaking uncontrollably. He hadn't had any real training with a weapon, and the weight of the blade felt unfamiliar and heavy in his grasp.

The bandit slowed as he approached, a grin spreading across his face as he saw Ethan standing there, clearly struggling to hold the sword steady.

"You should've kept running, boy," the bandit sneered, pulling out a short blade of his own. "Now you'll have to pay for it."

Ethan's mind raced, but he knew what he had to do. There was one hope—Greg. The golem was still back with the other bandits, but if the mental link they shared was still intact, Greg would come when called. He had to believe in that connection, even though he couldn't feel the Mind Element the way he used to.

"Greg, come to me," Ethan mentally commanded, hoping the link was still there.

The bandit moved toward him, his blade glinting in the fading light. Ethan held his ground, the sword still shaking in his hand, trying to keep his breathing steady. He felt the bandit getting closer, and doubt crept into his mind—what if Greg couldn't hear him? What if he had lost that connection after all?

But then, just as the bandit was about to lunge, a loud crash echoed from behind them. The bandit froze, glancing over his shoulder with a look of confusion. Ethan's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the sound of Greg—the familiar, heavy footsteps crashing through the underbrush, getting closer with each second.

The bandit's eyes widened in horror as Greg emerged from the trees, barreling toward them with his bronze and stone body moving like an unstoppable force. Ethan could feel a surge of relief wash over him, the mental connection to Greg still alive, still strong.

"Too late for you," Ethan muttered under his breath, gripping his sword a little tighter, though now he knew he wouldn't need to use it.

Greg reached them in a matter of moments, his towering form casting a shadow over the bandit. Without a word, the golem raised one massive arm and swung it at the bandit, sending him flying backward with the sheer force of the blow. The bandit hit the ground hard, groaning as he tried to scramble away, his confidence shattered.

Ethan exhaled sharply, lowering his sword as Greg moved to stand by his side. The bandit, now realizing he was outmatched, clutched his side and began to crawl backward, fear etched across his face.

"You might want to leave," Ethan said quietly, the tension easing from his body as he spoke. The bandit didn't need to be told twice—he stumbled to his feet and ran, disappearing into the forest without a second glance.

Ethan's legs wobbled as the adrenaline began to fade, but Greg stood there, unmoving, waiting for his next command. The mental connection had worked—Greg had come to him when he needed it most.

"Thanks, Greg," Ethan said softly, letting out a long breath of relief. Magic or not, Greg was the one constant in this world.

Ethan wasted no time. With the bandit gone, he turned to Greg, giving him a quick nod. "Let's get out of here before they figure out I'm not the one doing the fighting."

He sheathed his steel sword, his hands still trembling slightly from the encounter. The weight of what had just happened pressed down on him. He knew he couldn't rely on bluffing his way out of every situation—sooner or later, someone would call him out, and Greg wouldn't always be there to save him.

He started moving quickly down the path, Greg falling into step beside him, his heavy bronze and stone footsteps a steady reminder of the golem's strength. They needed to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the bandits before they regrouped or realized that Ethan's combat skills were practically non-existent.

The forest around them grew darker as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the path. Ethan quickened his pace, hoping to get clear of the bandit territory before night fully set in. Every rustle of leaves or crack of a twig put him on edge, but Greg's towering presence was enough to keep him from panicking completely.

He kept his senses sharp, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement. But after several minutes of fast walking, there was no sign of pursuit. It seemed the bandit who had chased him off wasn't eager to come back for a second round with Greg.

As the adrenaline finally began to ebb, Ethan felt a wave of exhaustion settle in. His legs ached from running, his lungs still burning from the effort, but he pressed on. They couldn't afford to stop yet—not until he felt confident they were out of danger.

"Let's just keep moving until we're far enough from that mess," Ethan muttered to Greg, knowing the golem would understand.

They continued down the path, moving through the thickening shadows of the forest as the night settled in.