Chapter 2: First Blood

Dikun's chest heaved, his breaths ragged as the echoes of the bandit's fall faded into the ravine. Sweat slicked his brow, mingling with the dirt smeared across his face. His trembling hands gripped the chipped arming sword, the rusted blade still warm from the friction of his desperate escape.

One down.

But the remaining three bandits would not be so easily dealt with. He could hear their curses in the distance, the heavy stomps of their horses circling beyond the trees. The leader's voice barked orders, his frustration clear.

"Find the bastard! Spread out!"

Dikun's pulse quickened. They wouldn't leave without blood. He slipped behind the cover of a large tree, his back pressed against the rough bark. Each breath he took was shallow and deliberate. His eyes scanned the forest — dry leaves littered the ground, every step threatening to betray his position.

Think. What's the next move?

In the game, battles had always been predictable. Bandits followed patterns, charging recklessly or retreating when the odds turned. But now? Now they were thinking. Feeling. And so was he.

A distant memory stirred. Ambush tactics. A cavalryman stripped of his mobility was as good as dead. The forest was his advantage.

Dikun's knuckles tightened around the hilt of his sword. He crouched low, his breathing steadying. Step one — divide. Step two — eliminate.

---

The First Encounter

A lone rider approached, the snap of twigs beneath the horse's hooves breaking the uneasy silence. The man's silhouette passed between the trees, his eyes scanning for movement. Leather armor hugged his wiry frame, the curved sword in his hand gleaming with cruel intent.

"Come out, little rat," the bandit sneered. "I'll make it quick."

Dikun remained motionless, the shadow of the foliage cloaking him. He could feel the ache in his legs, the tension in his muscles begging for release. But he waited. Patient. Calculating.

As the rider passed, Dikun moved. With a burst of speed, he lunged from the shadows, his sword slashing low. The blade bit into the horse's hind leg. The animal reared in agony, the bandit barely managing to cling to the saddle.

"You bastard!"

The rider's shout was laced with fury, but Dikun gave no chance for retaliation. He slammed his shield upward, catching the man's sword arm mid-swing. The impact sent the weapon tumbling to the ground.

With desperation etched across his face, the bandit scrambled to regain control of his mount, but Dikun struck again — a vicious slash across the chest. The rusted blade tore through leather, drawing blood. The man gasped, his body slumping forward.

The horse, panicked and riderless, bolted into the forest. Dikun staggered back, his chest rising and falling as he watched the body crumple. Blood pooled beneath the fallen bandit, staining the earth.

It wasn't like the game. There was no triumphant music. No experience points flashing across his vision. Just the sickening reality of death.

But there was no time to dwell.

---

The Leader's Fury

"Over here!"

The shout rang out, followed by the thundering hooves of the two remaining bandits. Dikun cursed under his breath, knowing they would find their fallen comrade soon enough. He needed to move. Fast.

Grabbing the dead man's sword, Dikun quickly inspected it. A Khuzait-style saber — sharper and lighter than his own. It was stained, but the edge gleamed. He discarded his rusted arming sword, the weight of the curved blade feeling more familiar.

He sprinted deeper into the woods, weaving through the trees. The rhythmic pounding of the horses followed close behind.

"Coward!" one of the bandits roared. "You think you can run forever?"

Dikun ignored the taunts. Running wasn't the plan. He reached a small clearing where a fallen tree created a natural barrier. His mind raced. Positioning. High ground. Cover. Every advantage mattered.

He scaled the tree, perching atop its twisted limbs. From this vantage point, he could see the approaching bandits. The leader rode at the front, his face twisted with anger. A heavy axe rested in his hands — a brutal weapon designed to cleave through flesh and bone.

"Come out and face me, dog!" the leader bellowed.

Dikun steadied his breathing. Let them come.

The first rider charged into the clearing, his eyes scanning wildly. But as his horse drew near, Dikun struck. He dropped from the tree with the force of his own momentum, driving the saber deep into the man's back. The bandit's scream echoed as he collapsed, his body limp before it hit the ground.

The leader's horse skidded to a halt. "You're dead!"

But Dikun had no intention of standing his ground. He darted away, the leader in furious pursuit. The axe swung wildly, cleaving through branches as the man roared with each missed strike.

"Fight me, coward!"

"I am," Dikun growled.

He spun sharply, the saber flashing. The leader's horse veered, the man struggling to control it. Dikun seized the opportunity. With a powerful slash, he cut through the horse's legs. The beast crumpled, throwing its rider violently to the ground.

The leader groaned, blood trickling from his temple. But before he could rise, Dikun was upon him. He pressed the tip of his saber to the man's throat, the trembling resolve in his eyes hidden beneath hardened determination.

"Yield," Dikun ordered, his voice cold.

The leader spat, his eyes burning with defiance. "You think this ends here?"

Dikun's gaze never wavered. "It ends when I say it does."

The bandit snarled, but his body went limp. He knew defeat.

---

Reflection

The forest fell silent. Dikun's heart pounded as he stepped away, his grip on the saber tightening. Three bodies lay scattered, their blood mingling with the dirt. His hands shook, the weight of what he had done pressing down upon him.

No victory screen. No reward. Just survival.

He knelt, his breathing uneven. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows through the trees. There was no time to waste. Supplies. Weapons. Anything of value.

But as he searched the fallen bandits, another thought gnawed at him. The bandit leader's words echoed in his mind.

"You think this ends here?"

Calradia was a land ruled by blood and steel. And Dikun had just spilled both.

This was only the beginning.