Chapter 4 Chapter 4
Garrick Thorn pointed his sword at Kael and grinned as though the matter had already been decided.
The bandits surrounding him laughed.
Kael looked at them for a moment and almost laughed too.
Thirty-five years ago, Garrick had been the monster hiding beneath every nightmare. Kael still remembered trembling in a burning house while screams echoed outside and villagers died in the streets.
Now that same terrifying bandit looked like an overconfident drunk with bad posture.
The difference wasn’t Garrick.
The difference was Kael.
"Well?" Garrick demanded. "You got something to say, or did you suddenly go deaf?"
Kael tilted his head.
"How much food do you have left?"
Garrick blinked. "What?"
"Food," Kael said patiently. "You know. The thing people eat when they don't want to starve."
Several bandits exchanged confused looks.
Garrick’s expression darkened.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Kael studied him.
The man’s boots were worn down. His armor hadn’t been repaired properly. Two of his men looked noticeably thinner than the others.
“Not much food, then.”
One of the bandits looked offended.
“We have plenty of food.”
Kael nodded. “So not enough.”
The bandit froze, the others stared at him.
"You idiot," somebody muttered.
"What? I didn't say anything wrong."
"The fact that you think that is exactly the problem."
Kael smiled, this was easier than expected.
“How much money do you have?”
Garrick finally lost his patience.
"Why are you asking these stupid questions?"
Kael shrugged.
"I'm curious."
Garrick stared at him.
"Curious about what exactly?"
“How a group of failed bandits survives this long.”
The forest became silent.
One of the younger bandits covered his mouth, another looked away.
Someone laughed, then immediately stopped laughing when Garrick glared at him.
Kael folded his arms.
“You raid travelers, but your equipment is terrible. Your horses are underfed. Half your weapons haven’t been maintained properly.”
Several bandits instinctively looked at their weapons.
Kael pointed toward a broad-shouldered man.
“You have a shoulder injury.”
The man stiffened.
“How did you know?”
“The way you’re standing.”
Kael pointed at another bandit.
"Let me guess. You're the gambler."
The man's expression changed so quickly that everyone noticed.
“What?”
“What do you mean what?” another bandit snapped.
“You lost three months of loot last season.”
“I was going to win it back.”
“You said that last time.”
“I almost did.”
Kael pointed toward a third man.
The bandit frowned.
“What about me?”
Kael studied him for a moment.
"You know...... this might be none of my business, but I'd be more worried about your wife than I would be about me."
The bandit frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Kael shrugged.
"You've been away for weeks. That's all I'm saying."
The bandit’s face turned red.
“Marla would never do that.”
A second bandit winced. A third looked extremely interested in a nearby tree.
The first bandit’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you all acting weird?”
Nobody answered.
His breathing quickened.
“Why are you all acting weird?”
Then one unfortunate fool muttered, “Now that I think about it, the baker visits your house a lot.”
The man lost his mind.
“The baker?”
The argument started immediately.
People started shouting as accusations flew in every direction, one bandit shoved another, and before long someone was laughing while the rest argued so loudly that the entire group descended into chaos.
Within seconds, half the group was yelling at each other.
Kael watched the chaos unfold.
Amazing, some things never changed.
Garrick’s face turned purple.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”
The forest instantly became quiet again.
Garrick pointed his sword toward Kael.
“This is your last warning.”
Kael sighed.
“You know, Garrick, thirty-five years ago you were much scarier.”
The bandit frowned.
“What does that even mean?”
“Nothing important.”
Garrick stepped forward.
“Kill him.”
The bandits charged.
Kael immediately turned and ran.
Laughter erupted behind him. “He’s running!”
“Of course he’s running.”
“Get him!”
The chase began, branches whipped past as Kael sprinted through the forest.
The bandits followed without hesitation, exactly as he expected.
Idiots.
The moment he reached a narrow slope, he jumped sideways.
The first bandit followed. His foot landed on loose gravel and the ground vanished beneath him.
The man screamed as he tumbled downhill and crashed into two others. The entire group collapsed into a tangled pile of limbs.
Kael didn’t stop moving.
Years ago he had memorized every path around these mountains.
The bandits had not.
A second trap waited farther ahead.
The moment three men crossed a fallen log, the rotten wood snapped beneath their weight and dropped them directly into a shallow ravine.
More screaming followed.
Garrick’s face twisted with rage.
“Stop chasing him one at a time!”
Too late, the formation was already broken. The bandits were scattered across the mountain.
Kael picked up a stone and threw it.
It struck one man’s forehead and the bandit collapsed.
A second stone hit another, then another.
The battle became ridiculous.
Within minutes, the mountain looked less like a battlefield and more like a comedy performance.
One bandit ran directly into a tree. Another slipped into a stream. A third accidentally punched his own ally.
Kael almost felt bad for them.
The final confrontation came near the cave entrance.
Only Garrick remained standing.
The bandit leader panted heavily while glaring at Kael.
“This shouldn’t be possible.”
Kael slowly approached.
“No. It shouldn’t.”
Garrick raised his sword.
Kael moved first.
The fight lasted less than ten seconds.
A sharp strike knocked the weapon away. A second hit shattered Garrick’s balance.
The third dropped him to the ground.
Silence returned to the forest and Garrick stared upward in disbelief.
“Who the hell are you?”
For a brief moment, Kael considered telling him.
The Black Shogun.
The man who conquered half the continent.
The nightmare of kings.
Instead he smiled. “Just a village boy.”
Garrick looked personally offended by the answer.
As Kael searched the unconscious bandits, a groan suddenly came from nearby.
One of the survivors slowly raised his head, the man looked terrified.
“Please don’t kill me.”
Kael crouched beside him.
"Then answer a question."
The bandit's head bobbed so fast it looked painful.
"Anything. I'll answer anything."
"Why attack Oakridge?"
The bandit blinked.
"What?"
"Oakridge."
"We...... we weren't supposed to."
Kael frowned.
"What do you mean you weren't supposed to?"
"I mean exactly that. We weren't even heading here."
A cold feeling settled inside Kael’s chest.
“Then why come here?”
The man’s face turned pale. “Because somebody paid us.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?” The bandit shook his head. “I don’t know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“He wore expensive clothes.”
Kael remained silent.
The bandit’s voice trembled.
“He said he wanted a small village destroyed.”
Oakridge.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Kael’s pulse quickened.
This wasn’t how history happened. In his previous life, Garrick attacked because he wanted loot.
Now there was money involved, someone had pointed Garrick toward Oakridge.
Someone rich, powerful and for the first time since returning to the past, Kael realized the future might be changing much faster than he thought.
The question was no longer who would attack the village but who wanted it destroyed badly enough to pay for it.
