Bandits (1)

"As expected, I guess," Elise mused, her eyes fixed on Gil's motionless body sprawled on the floor.

A heavy sigh escaped her lips, a dispirited expression crossing her face. She had witnessed something intriguing, but the one who had performed it, unfortunately, didn't survive. She had anticipated this outcome when Gil asked her to transfer her mana to him.

"Such a shame that you had to depart so quickly, boy. But in this world, only the Hero can perform mana transfer," she murmured with a hint of regret.

Elise shifted her gaze to the shooting wand Gil had dropped on the ground. "Well, at least you showed me something fascinating today. It's a shame you won't be able to amaze me further."

She then bent down to pick up the shooting wand with her hand. However, as her fingers touched the weapon, it disintegrated, forming a radiant pattern before seamlessly melding back into Gil's arm.

This startled Elise a bit but then she understood what had happened. "So the wand you desired is going with you... That's unfortunate," she mused, a sense of disappointment in her voice. 

"Well, I guess it wants to stay with its master till the end," she said, aware that certain rare weapons had a peculiar attachment to their owners, even after their demise.

Elise approached Gil intending to bring him back to the city, a gesture of respect she felt he deserved. However, she had not checked Gil's condition earlier, assuming he had succumbed to his injuries since he lay face down, motionless on the floor.

To her astonishment, when Elise lifted him, she noticed movement in Gil's chest, and he was still breathing through his nose.

"No way! You're still alive?" 

After the shock, a wide smile illuminated her face as she grasped the reality that the young man she held was what she said before.

"You must be kidding me," she exclaimed. "That explains all the strange things in this dungeon."

What she intended to convey were all the challenges they had faced in this quest. Two minotaurs and a troll should not exist in such an inactive dungeon, based on her experience as an adventurer.

"To think that I discover a hero candidate while going to be an adventurer on a whim. Is it luck or fate?"

She then encircled her arm around Gil's body and tapped her mage wand to the ground with her other hand, conjuring a magic circle.

The magic circle radiated with intensity, and in the blink of an eye, the two individuals vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind.

***

Meanwhile, a middle-aged man emerged from the dungeon, gasping for breath after a frantic run.

"Finally, I'm out of this godforsaken dungeon!"

The man was Anderson, who had managed to escape the Troll's wrath. While he was relieved to be alive, he now faced another pressing issue.

"Shit, what am I going to tell the guild?"

He knew he had to explain Gil's quest to the guild, especially now that a noble's son had perished. The guild would likely look for someone to blame, and Anderson would be the one who got it.

"It's all that damn brat's fault!" he grumbled in frustration.

Anderson racked his brain, contemplating how to navigate this predicament.

"I need to lay low for a while," he concluded, deciding to go into hiding to avoid being blamed for the unfortunate event.

With a plan in mind, Anderson immediately began to move away from the dungeon.

However, just as he was about to leave, an arrow shot through the air and pierced his leg.

"Gaaahhh!" Anderson stumbled and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He tried to remove the arrow from his leg to make a quick escape, but before he could react further, his unknown assailants revealed themselves.

About ten people emerged, all dressed in tattered clothing, unmistakably bandits.

Approaching Anderson, they disarmed him and pinned him down. One of them inquired, "Didn't that village old man say there were four of them, chief?"

A burly figure, the apparent leader, sporting a torn shirt and wielding a large sword, replied, "I guess they died inside... Well, let's just take him hostage then. We need to give Sir Thaddeus a new slave to sell soon."

Hearing that, Anderson was frantically in distress. "Wait, wait. Please, don't bring me to slaver! I-i can do something for you guys. L-like maybe I can join you? I'm a B-rank adventurer. I can be a great addition to your group, brother." He said, spouting everything so he wouldn't get sold to slavery.

Being captured by bandits and sold into slavery was an unfortunate fate that befell some adventurers, as society often treated them no differently than commoners. While there were laws against forcing free individuals into slavery, a black market for slaves existed, often exploited by bandits to sell their captives. And if one got unlucky, it's over for them.

The burly man from earlier replied, "Hmm... Considering your physique, what you say may be true, but you could also be perfect for hard labor. I think we can get a good price for you at the slave market, so it's unfortunate for you, buddy. Tie him up, boys."

The bandit boss, apparently satisfied with his decision, left Anderson to the rest of his gang. They swiftly bound Anderson's body. Despite his futile struggles and impassioned pleas, he was outnumbered and ignored.

With his limbs tightly bound, Anderson was hoisted onto the shoulders of the bandits and carried to their base. He would be sold at the slave market the following day. Anderson's fate was sealed, and the memory of the once B-rank adventurer would soon fade into obscurity.