The crimson hand

The last remaining bandit, witnessing the gruesome fate of his comrades, felt all his bravado drain away.

His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the ground with a thud, landing on his backside.

His face was pale, and his eyes were wide with terror as he stared at Oasis, who was now walking towards him.

Among the recruits, the girls huddled together, trembling with fear.

Toren remained unconscious, while Ronan, though scared, tried to maintain his composure.

He mustered the courage to move closer to Oasis, though his legs shook with each step.

Oasis stopped just in front of the terrified bandit and crouched down to meet his eye level.

The bandit's face was a mixture of sheer terror and disbelief, as if he couldn't comprehend whether the person before him was a normal child or a monster in disguise.

"You have only one painless choice," Oasis began, his voice cold and menacing.

"Tell me everything about your businesses in Dawnhail—your organization, its power hierarchy. Or, you can leave it to me."

"But I promise you this: if you choose not to talk, your death will be an endless torment, one you'll remember in your next life."

The bandit's face contorted in horror as the weight of Oasis's words sank in.

His mind raced as he considered his options, but the fear of the unknown, of the torture Oasis promised, was too overwhelming.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and began to speak, his voice trembling.

"Our organization... it's called the 'Crimson Hand'. We operate across the Dawnhail region, controlling various shady businesses."

"Smuggling, human trafficking, extortion—anything that can bring in gold."

"We... we smuggle people—mostly women and children—from small towns, especially those on the outskirts, like this one," the bandit stammered.

Oasis listened intently, his eyes never leaving the man's face.

"The girls... we sell them to certain parts of the Kingdom of Ironclad," the bandit continued, his voice growing weaker as he divulged the gruesome details.

"They're raised as cultivation furnaces, used by powerful cultivators to increase their own power."

"Some are sold as servants, forced into slavery, while others... others are sent to satisfy the twisted desires of old men with too much power and wealth."

The bandit paused, struggling to continue, but the fear of Oasis pushed him forward.

"The boys... the boys are either trained as assassins or used for hard labor."

"Those who show potential are taken and raised as killers, while the rest are worked to death in mines or construction."

"The Crimson Hand has ties to powerful figures in Dawnhail... even some within the Blackboar Mercenary Guild, though not everyone there is aware."

Oasis's expression remained unreadable as he absorbed the information. The bandit, desperate to save himself, continued.

"We operate out of the seven towns in the Dawnhail region. The most important of these are Mistvalley and Ironpeak."

"The Crimson Hand is backed by influential people... in the Ironclad Kingdom. They pay us well to keep the flow of 'merchandise' steady."

The man's voice quivered with fear as he spoke of the hierarchy.

"The Crimson Hand is led by a council of three. They answer to no one but themselves, and each one controls a different part of the region."

"They're ruthless... they wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone who gets in their way."

"The leader in Mistvalley, a man named Karn, he's the most dangerous... he's the one who handles most of the smuggling operations."

"He has connections, powerful ones, who protect him."

As the bandit finished speaking, his eyes pleaded with Oasis.

"Please... I've told you everything I know. Just... let me go."

Oasis remained silent for a moment, processing the information.

The recruits behind him looked on, their fear mingling with a sense of dread at the horrors they had just heard.

The Crimson Hand was a monstrous organization, and they had only just begun to grasp the extent of its reach and cruelty.

"Tell me everything you know about the council their locations...names " Oasis demanded.

The remaining bandit, trembling in fear, quickly responded to Oasis's demand for more information about the council, though his knowledge was based on rumors rather than confirmed facts.

"The council... there are three of them," the bandit stammered, his voice shaky.

"I've heard they rarely stay in one place for too long. Karn, the one I mentioned in Mistvalley, is the most well-known."

"He's cruel and ruthless, but... I've only ever heard whispers of the others. There's a woman, they say she operates near Ironpeak."

"They call her 'The Widow.' She's as deadly as she is beautiful, and she handles the... darker side of their operations—assassinations, blackmail, that sort of thing."

He swallowed hard before continuing.

"The third one... I don't know his name. No one does. He's like a ghost, they say. He deals with the Crimson Hand's most secretive operations."

"He could be anywhere, but it's rumored he has a stronghold deep within the Ironclad Kingdom, far from prying eyes."

"They say he's the one who has ties to the royalty... the one who ensures the Crimson Hand operates without interference."

The bandit's eyes were wide with fear as he finished speaking, uncertain if the information he had given would be enough to spare his life.

Oasis studied him for a moment before speaking.

"You can take your leave. Tell whoever you report to that 'Oasis of Lunaris is in the valleys'."

The bandit nodded frantically, too terrified to argue.

He dragged his body away, his head bobbing up and down in a constant nod as he retreated, eager to put as much distance between himself and Oasis as possible.

Oasis then turned his attention to Ronan, who was still trying to maintain a semblance of composure.

But Oasis could see through him—the boy was still afraid.

"Thank you, Oasis," Ronan managed to say, though his voice was barely audible.

Oasis's expression softened slightly as Ronan continued.

"The Crimson Hand... I think they were the ones who killed my parents and took my sister five years ago in our village."

This revelation hit Oasis hard.

He realized why Ronan wasn't as shaken by the sight of death as the others.

Ronan had already lived through the horrors of loss and violence, witnessing the murder of his parents and the abduction of his sister.