After dealing with several groups of bandits near Gaines, we prepared to head to the town of Dunglanis to sell our loot and rest. However, the closer we got to that direction, the more bandits we encountered. After a few more skirmishes, we successfully reached Dunglanis. The unusually high number of bandits in the area caught my attention, and I suspected their hideout must be nearby.
So, I sent two of my most capable subordinates to scout for information about their lair. My goals were twofold: to rid the land of this menace and, of course, to secure a hefty reward by raiding their base.
From the battles we'd fought since entering Battanian territory until now, we'd earned a decent sum of denars. After upgrading my soldiers' equipment, I still had over 4,000 denars left. With daily wages costing around 100 denars, I could sustain my forces for a while longer.
But the profits from these small-scale skirmishes were no longer enough to meet my growing needs, especially since I planned to expand my forces. So, I decided to focus on locating bandit hideouts while taking down smaller groups of outlaws along the way.
Two days later, my scouts returned with news.
"Master, we've gathered information. We questioned passing merchant caravans and villagers from nearby settlements. The bandits are based on the hills behind the town of Ca-Banseth, preying on travelers and locals. We even scouted their hideout—there are only about twenty of them, spread across several outposts. The innermost camp is likely where their leader resides."
"Excellent work! Go rest up. At dawn, we'll move out and wipe them out in one strike."
The next morning, I led my troops toward the bandit hideout. By now, I had twelve elite soldiers (Battanian Fian Champions) and others who were just one tier below the top rank. Even if the enemy outnumbered us twofold, I had no fear.
We arrived at the hideout by afternoon. I laid out the plan:
"We'll strike at night to avoid alerting reinforcements. We won't attack with our full force—I'll take the two scouts and five Fian Champions. The rest of you will set up an ambush at the mountain pass entrance. If any bandits try to flee or return, cut them down without mercy."
"Yes!" my soldiers replied in unison.
We hid in the woods for hours, waiting until deep into the night—when the bandits would be sound asleep.
With my seven chosen men, we crept toward the bandit camp. Just as the scouts had reported, they had set up several watch posts along the path, each manned by two or three guards. In the pitch-black night, their torches served as beacons—not just lighting our way, but also guiding them straight to the afterlife.
I whispered my command:
"Move in. Leave none alive."
My men advanced swiftly, crouching low. I followed at the rear—not because I was unwilling to lead the charge, but because the darkness made navigation tricky, and my soldiers knew the mountainous terrain better. (Also, I'll admit, I was a little wary after my last run-in with bandits. Ha!)
We cut through each outpost one by one until we finally reached a lakeside camp—the leader's stronghold. Despite our stealth, the sounds of combat must have alerted him and his remaining men.
By the time we arrived, they were already armed and ready to fight. But the sheer momentum of our assault seemed to shake their resolve. Their leader stepped forward and shouted:
"Who dares attack us here?"
"Your executioner," I replied. "Surrender now, and I might spare your worthless life."
Seeing that we wouldn't back down, he snarled:
"If you've made it this far, my men are already dead. You only win because you outnumber us. Fight me one-on-one. Let a duel decide the outcome."
I considered it. I hadn't done much in the earlier fights, and this was a chance to prove myself as a leader. With my skills, I should be able to handle a bandit chief. It'd also boost my men's respect for me.
"Fine. Come at me."
With a roar, he charged. His first strike was a downward slash—I blocked it. Then a thrust—I parried. His relentless attacks forced me on the defensive, and I started regretting my decision. Both sides cheered for their leaders, but my men didn't intervene, even as I struggled.
*Did medieval Europeans really take dueling this seriously?*
After a dozen exchanges, his movements slowed—he was tiring. Seizing the moment when he pulled back his blade, I slashed his shoulder. He dropped his sword, grabbed a nearby warhammer, and swung with all his might.
I raised my weapon to block—
***CLANG!***
Everything went black. The last things I heard were the bandit's mocking laughter and my men's shouts.
---
When I woke, I was lying on a wooden bed in an unfamiliar room. My head throbbed, but there was no pain. *Was this still part of the dream?*
"Anyone here?" I called out.
Footsteps rushed in—my men.
"Master, you're awake! You've been unconscious for a day. The physician said you'll recover with rest."
"Where are we? What happened? Weren't we raiding the bandit hideout?"
"This is an inn in Ca-Banseth. We did attack the hideout. You dueled their leader… and lost. We carried you back."
"What about the remaining bandits? Their leader—did you kill or capture him?"
"Neither. After you lost the duel, we withdrew."
"Why?! They were just a handful by then. We could've slaughtered them easily!"
"It's tradition. When leaders duel, the victor's side must spare the loser's life that day—no matter the odds. It's our code."
"*What* code? The only code with enemies is to crush them harder than they'd crush you! These are murderous bandits preying on the innocent. From now on, *my* orders override tradition. Forget who pays your wages? Rules, rules—*my* rules are the rules. You think your traditions are complex? Try five thousand years of Chinese warfare—we've got *The Art of War*!"
"Master… aren't you Vlandian? What's 'Chinese'? Some eastern kingdom?"
"Never mind. Just remember: We move out again in two days. I *will* have my revenge."
"Yes, Master. I'll fetch you some food—you must be hungry."
After he left, I muttered to myself, "Honor codes with *bandits*? What nonsense. Letting the enemy go after I got knocked out? Next time, no mercy."
---
After two days of rest, we marched back to the bandit lair. This time, I'd make sure they regretted crossing me.
I adjusted the plan slightly—this time, I took ten men for absolute certainty.
Night fell. We struck.
The fools must've thought I wouldn't return, because their defenses were unchanged. Once again, we cut through their outposts like a scythe through wheat. When their leader saw me leading the charge again, his voice dripped with contempt.
"You're back. Still hungry for defeat, eh? Maybe you *let* me win last time. Come on, then—give me your best."
My men tensed, ready to rush in the moment I fell. Good—they'd listened. Money talks louder than tradition.
"I'm not dueling a bandit. *Kill them all.*"
Both sides froze for a split second—but my men recovered faster. With a battle cry, they surged forward. The bandit leader didn't even have time to spit another taunt before my soldiers cut him down. His corpse hit the ground, eyes wide in disbelief.
*Not so tough now, are you?*
"Search the camp. Call the others up here. Take everything valuable—burn the rest. I won't have this place sheltering vermin again."
As my men carried out the orders, I leaned back on a rock, admiring the night's beauty.
*That's how you deal with bandits.*