I am the Messenger

Just outside the gate stood a group of rugged men, a dozen strong, clad in mismatched leathers and armor pieces painted in blood-red stripes. Each bore a jagged symbol burned into their chest plates — a twisted flame, the mark of the Scorchback Kin.

At the front stood a tall, broad-shouldered brute with a crooked nose, carrying a double-bladed axe casually over one shoulder. Next to him, tied up and bruised but alive, were Eren, Marna, Kel, and Donn, forced to kneel with ropes binding their arms.

The bandit leader sniffed the air with a smirk.

"…You smell that, boys?"

"Rice," one muttered.

"Wheat," another added, licking his lips.

"Wow, look at these villagers. They are not suffering from a famine," said a third, cracking his knuckles. "That's a full feast."

A crooked-nose brute spat on the ground. "This village's got more grain than the whole western stretch. Shall we help ourselves to it?"

The Bandit Leader silently observed, and then turned to the villagers now gathering behind the gates, wide-eyed and frightened.

"Well now," he sneered. "We'll be takin' your harvest, your healers, and your hospitality. You're welcome, peasants."

A few bandits chuckled.

"And if you're thinking of resisting—"

"—Don't."

Slowly, Chief Barou stepped forward, his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

His expression was firm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of nervousness.

"I am Chief Barou of Elowen," he began, voice loud and clear. "Please. Whatever quarrel you have with our hunters — let's settle it as men, not butchers."

The bandit leader — a wiry, hawk-nosed man with a chain-wrapped blade slung over his back — scoffed. He stood just behind the bound adventurers, still forced to their knees under torchlight.

"Settle?" he echoed. "Oh, I'm here to settle, alright."

He stepped closer, boots grinding against gravel.

"You have two choices, old man."

"One - You give us the harvest — every sack, every grain — and we let your little heroes live. Or… Two - we take the grain anyway and leave your young ones as fertilizer. Hahaha"

Barou clenched his fists. "Please. These young ones were only trying to bring food home. Show mercy."

"We've shown mercy," the bandit leader growled. "Five days we let them breathe."

Lila pushed through the gathering crowd. "Please, take the food. But let them live."

The leader turned, eyes gleaming.

"Oh, we'll take the food. But now that I see you up close…"

His gaze ran over her — slow, disgusting.

"…We might take you too. Our men could use some… entertainment."

The other bandits chuckled darkly.

Barou stepped in front of Lila. "That's enough!"

"Is it?" the bandit sneered, tilting his head. "You make a better offer, old man? Whatever it is, we are taking it all!"

The tension in the air thickened.

Then, a new voice cut through the murk like a knife through silk.

"No need for offers."

Riku stepped forward.

The bandit leader turned toward him, sneering with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. His blade gleamed in the firelight, still hovering far too close to Eren's restrained form.

"And who are you supposed to be?" he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Another villager come to beg?"

Riku's steps didn't falter. He came to a slow halt a few paces from the bandits, standing tall — not with the confidence of a warrior, but with the serenity of someone who knew the outcome long before it arrived.

"I am not from this village," Riku said, voice steady, his words rolling out like calm waves brushing against a cliff. "I come from far away — a land where the rivers once dried and the trees forgot how to bloom. I was sent on a mission. A purpose."

The villagers listened, enraptured.

"My path was shown not by man, but by the divine. And my mission was simple: to bring prosperity to the forgotten corners of the world, to reignite the light where only shadow remained. And so, my journey brought me here — to this humble village of Elowen, the first seed of change."

He lifted a hand and gestured toward the glowing well behind them, the fields brimming with crops, the quiet strength in the villagers' gazes.

"And now, the divine watches still — their blessing resting upon this land, its water, its soil… and its food."

The bandit leader raised a brow, half amused, half uncertain. "So what, you're saying your bread can bite?"

Riku's expression didn't change.

"No. I'm saying it can judge."

From within his cloth-wrapped basket, he drew forth a round, golden loaf of bread — its crust gently crackling in the night air, still warm from the hidden reheating enchantment he had cast upon it minutes earlier.

He held it up high for all to see.

"The divine leaves no sin unanswered," he continued, voice low but commanding. "And so, before we speak of peace or punishment, let us allow the will of the divine to speak first."

He placed the bread carefully on a clean wooden plate taken from his satchel.

"Here lies judgment," Riku said solemnly. "Two pieces shall be cut. One shall be given to a daughter of Elowen — a soul born of this soil, a heart shaped by kindness. The other, to one of you — an outsider whose intent the divine must weigh."

He drew a simple knife from his belt and began slicing the bread in half. But his eyes remained on the crowd, and his fingers moved with subtle precision — a flicker of runes tracing the underside of the blade as he secretly cast a delayed-effect spell into both halves of the loaf.

[Enchantment Applied: Digestive Misery – Tier 1 Effect]Causes acute stomach cramping, nausea, and temporary unconsciousness within 60 seconds of ingestion.

The spell glimmered faintly — invisible to all but him — and then sank beneath the crust of the right-side piece.

He held up both halves.

"Now, let the divine pass its judgment," Riku intoned, his voice carrying like an echo off the stones. "Step forward, and let your intent be weighed.

The bandits hesitated, some scoffing, some watching with squinted eyes. Eventually, a young bandit who stood behind the leader came forward with a sneer.

"I'll eat your 'blessed bread,' messenger," he said, snatching the right piece without hesitation.

Riku handed the other to Lila, silently removing the spell from this half.

Lila accepted the bread silently. She didn't fully understand what Riku was planning, but there was a quiet confidence in his eyes that told her: trust me. That was all she needed.

"Now eat," Riku said simply.

The bandit bit in first — tearing into the crust with theatrical bravado. "Tastes so good! Look here, lads, this thing is the best thing I have ever eaten in months. Today, we must take all of—"

Lila bit into her bread at the same time as well.

But after a few seconds, the bandit stopped mid-chew.

His face twitched.

He hunched slightly.

Then came the first groan.

"…agh… hhhhnnnn…"

His hand clutched his stomach as if something were twisting inside him, harder and harder.

He stumbled backward, eyes wide, frothing slightly at the corners of his mouth.

"Something's… wr—ngghh—!"

The other bandits began shouting in confusion, stepping back as the man collapsed, twitching violently before falling. By the time the bandit hit the ground, his eyes had rolled back. A second later, he stopped moving — not dead, but completely limp.

A ripple of panic shot through the ranks.

And yet…

Lila calmly finished her bread. She licked her fingers clean.

"I don't feel a thing," she said coolly.

Riku turned to the rest of the gang, his voice soft but unshakable.

"Do you understand now? This food — this harvest — is not yours to steal. It was given to Elowen by the divine, and it accepts only those who belong."

"You lie!" the leader barked, though the fear behind his words betrayed him.

"Then go ahead," Riku said, gesturing to the remaining bread that had fallen near the now-unconscious bandit with a faint smile. "Eat as much as you like."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Not one hand moved.

Not one boot stepped forward.