Chapter 12: Bandits (Part 1)

Hilika sat naked in his private chamber.

The specially made chair was just large enough to accommodate his bear-like massive frame. His muscular body resembled a fortress made of iron, each muscle block tightly packed together. Scars crisscrossed his flesh—hundreds of them in all shapes and sizes—a testament to a life forged in blood and blade. Nothing about him was refined; his physique spoke purely of survival.

At forty-five, an age when most men begin to decline, Hilika showed no signs of aging. His energy was as boundless as ever, and his lust for wealth and women had only grown stronger. The proof of this was the throbbing organ between his legs.

His thick fingers toyed with a gold coin, savoring the smooth, cold texture that delighted him more than the softness of a woman's touch. He could even discern the purity of the coin's metal—an early Alrasian mint. The gold's hardness coupled with its intrinsic pliancy thrilled him in ways no flesh ever could. It seemed to touch the deepest layers of his being, buried under four decades of relentless ambition.

At the age of four, his mother sold him for three silver coins to a baron. Seven years later, he was sold again, this time for one gold coin, to an old viscount with a penchant for young boys. Hilika endured, plotted, and after three years, exacted his revenge. He brutally murdered his master, defiled his daughter and granddaughter, then fled with all the money he could carry. A bounty was placed on his head, and from that point forward, his life revolved around gold—earning it by any means, fighting for it, and evading those who hunted him. Gold became the currency of flesh and blood in his life, and through constant pursuit, he uncovered what he believed to be the ultimate truth of the world: everything could be converted into the gleaming promise of wealth. Gold was power, gold was life.

This realization turned him into an obsessed soul. His vision blurred, and he began to see the world as a composition of dancing coins, everything else mere illusion.

Ten years later, after killing his eleventh elite pursuer, Hilika declared himself strong enough to claim a place in Alrasia. He founded the Shamusi Bandit Gang, which quickly became the kingdom's most powerful criminal organization.

Strictly speaking, the Shamusi Gang wasn't much of a bandit gang. That label merely grouped them with other, far less malevolent groups. Under Hilika's ruthless leadership, they engaged in robbery, kidnapping, mercenary work, and assassinations—anything that promised gold.

Recently, Hilika's passion for gold had only intensified. A month earlier, he'd come into possession of 4,307 gold coins—a fortune that could buy a small city. This was detailed on a ledger sitting before him, written in the scrawled handwriting of Esis, the gang's crippled strategist. The meaning of those crooked letters stirred him more deeply than any woman ever had.

This was an astronomical fortune, enough to purchase a small city. Across the entire continent, no other group could possibly generate such immense wealth in such a short time. Five female elves had sold for hundreds of gold coins each, with the most beautiful one fetching over a thousand during a heated bidding war between a few debauched noblemen. Such valuable "merchandise" was exceedingly rare.

Owning an elven female slave was not merely a matter of physical beauty or the allure of novelty—it was a status symbol, a mark of prestige. Some nobles had become utterly obsessed with these elven women, to the point of madness. Several of them had already paid substantial deposits to the thieves' guild to reserve even more elves for future purchase.

As long as they pulled off another big job like this, the Shamusi Thieves' Guild could rise to the top of the continent in both power and reputation. Just imagining mountains of gold coins and a force strong enough to rival a kingdom's army made a fire blaze in Hilika's chest and his blood boil with excitement. For the past week, he had been in a constant state of extreme exhilaration, so intense that eight women had been crushed to death beneath him in bed, their bodies broken under his relentless fervor. Yet no matter how many women, no matter how beautiful or skilled they were, they could not cool or sate his insatiable desire, even for a moment. He was certain that if this ambition remained unfulfilled, he would go mad—he would explode.

The three prostitutes next door were already on the brink of death, yet his thing still stood firm, relentless and unyielding. The fire inside him continued to burn, growing ever more intense, ever more fervent. He was waiting—for the one person who could extinguish that raging inferno within him.

The door opened, and Esis hobbled in. Compared to Hilika's colossal form, the frail, one-handed, one-legged Esis looked like a mere twig. His face was grotesquely scarred, his hair sparse and patchy, making him resemble an oversized goblin.

If Hilika was the gang's soul, Esis was its brain. Once a promising mage at an Eastern Continent academy, Esis had been crippled after being caught using mind magic to violate a young girl. When he resisted arrest and killed someone with his magic, a high priest struck him down with a lightning spell. Miraculously, he survived, though half his body was rendered useless. He fled to Alrasia and eventually rose to become the gang's second-in-command.

Esis tossed a robe to the naked Hilika. "Put this on. The guest probably won't appreciate your current state."

The massive scar on Hilika's face twitched, reddening like an agitated centipede. He hesitated, then reluctantly donned the robe.

Satisfied, Esis left the room, only to return moments later. With awkward movements, he bowed at the door like a servant welcoming an esteemed guest. "Please come in. The leader has been eagerly awaiting you."

The visitor entered without acknowledging the greeting. His steps were steady and firm, though tinged with the hesitancy of age. Everything about him seemed ordinary, save for the silver skull mask covering his face.

Hilika's predatory instincts told him he could snap this old man's thin neck as easily as a chicken's. Yet the sight of the skull mask quelled any such thoughts.

"Please, sit," Hilika rasped, his voice hoarse from excitement. He couldn't recall the last time he'd spoken so respectfully to anyone.

The masked man's eyes swept over Hilika before he nodded slightly. His voice, equally raspy and unsettling, said, "No need for pleasantries. I'm busy. Speak quickly."

Hilika took a deep breath to steady himself. "The scroll and map you gave us were extremely useful. They allowed us to infiltrate the elven settlement in the Turaleone Forest."

"And?" the man asked coldly. "Did you find what I asked for?"

"No. We were unprepared and underestimated the elves. We didn't see the object you described."

"But I hear you captured five elves and made quite a profit." The masked man's tone turned icy.

"There are many mages among those elves. We lost four men," Hilika growled, a deep, animalistic sound reverberating from his throat and nose.

"I already told you. The elves you can capture will serve as your reward for this mission. But don't forget the task I assigned you," the skeletal elder said slowly. "Use the money you earned this time to find more helpers. No matter what, you must finish this within two months. I have neither the patience nor the time to wait any longer."

Hilika's growl grew tenfold, echoing through the chamber. The scar on his face twitched as though it might leap off and attack someone. Esis's face twitched nervously, and he quickly chimed in, "But, sir, you know, there are thousands of elves in the Turaleone Forest. They've lived there for hundreds of years and even built teleportation arrays. It's the largest elven settlement on the continent. Every single one of them is a natural-born archer, and there are even several grand mages among them..."

"I know," the elder interrupted, his tone calm but cold. "That's why I'm not asking you to conquer Turaleone. I just want you to retrieve an item for me. As support, I'm giving you these this time." From his robes, the elder produced three scrolls and placed them on the table. Each scroll was distinct in appearance, emanating faint magical energy, but all bore a small purple skull at the top.

Seeing the scrolls and the tiny purple skulls, Esis let out a trembling moan, like a lecher glimpsing a naked goddess. As a specialist in identifying and crafting magical artifacts during his time at the Academy, he immediately recognized the value of the items before him.

"One is still the kind that can break through the elves' barriers, and the other two are large-scale spells that will help you deal with the elven mages. I believe these two will be very useful to you," the elder said, pausing briefly, his tone dropping to an icy chill. "In other words, this is your final chance. Do not disappoint me." After finishing, the elder retrieved a teleportation scroll.

"Yes, yes, of course," Esis nodded vigorously, his hunched and twisted frame resembling a bizarre arthropod. It took great effort for him to muster the courage to speak cautiously to the elder, who was unfurling the teleportation scroll. "Sir, I am honored to serve you. I seek no reward and wouldn't dare to speculate about your origins or identity... But, if I help you accomplish this, might you allow me to join your ranks? Or... no, no, what am I thinking? Even if I could just be a servant to you and your companions, I would be eternally grateful..."

The elder turned his head, his gaze cold and piercing beneath the skeletal mask.

Esis's entire body trembled as his remaining muscles spasmed uncontrollably, a mix of excitement and terror causing him to stammer, "No, no, I would never dare to have such thoughts. I merely admire your unmatched magical artistry and hope you might guide me, even a little. Though your powers are boundless, I could still assist with many mundane tasks. All I ask is... is..."

"Finish this task first, and then we'll see," the elder replied indifferently, unfurling the scroll and vanishing in a burst of blue light.

Esis's grotesque face twisted further in his elation. After standing frozen for a long moment, he finally came to his senses and approached the table, staring reverently at the four scrolls as though beholding a divine miracle.

"Is this old man really from the Necromancers' Guild you mentioned?" Hilika suddenly asked.

"Of course he is," Esis responded instinctively, glancing around nervously and lowering his voice as if afraid the elder might overhear even now. "Didn't you see the mask? It's made of the finest secret silver, permanently enchanted with magic. And these scrolls..." His skeletal fingers caressed the scrolls, his hand and voice trembling like a youth touching his first lover. "Two of these scrolls seal grand spells. Just like the barrier-breaking scroll he gave us last time, they are works of magical art. And the materials needed to craft such scrolls... Oh, my heavens, there's even stardust in them... That kind of thing isn't something gold can buy," Esis sighed, his tone reverent as he concluded, "In this world, who else but the Necromancers' Guild in Dehya Valley could have such resources and such exquisite magical craftsmanship?"

Hilika stood abruptly, the chair beneath him instantly collapsing into a pile of splinters. He stared at the spot where the elder had stood, the scar on his face twitching violently as though it wanted to leap off and attack. He growled, his voice rough and deliberate, "If it weren't for the money, I would have torn that old man to pieces just now. I hate it when people talk to me like that, whether they're human or ghost."

"Thank God you didn't do that, or we'd all be ghosts now..." Esis muttered, bowing his head. Dealing with his boss's temper had always been a headache. "You don't understand. The necromancers of Dehya Valley stand at the very pinnacle of this world. Their vision and understanding are far beyond ours. Otherwise, why would they ignore the priceless elves and let us profit instead? There must be something they fear or some plan that keeps them from acting directly, giving us this rare opportunity..."

"I don't care what kind of vision they have or what they're planning. I only care about what I can gain," Hilika said, staring intently at Esis and the three scrolls, his voice burning with heat. "Tell me, what can these three scrolls bring me?"

Esis thought for a moment and then answered, "Even with these three scrolls, it would still be very difficult to engage the elves in a head-on battle. But we should be able to retrieve what that gentleman wants and capture ten or so elves along the way."

"Ten or so…" Hilika smacked his lips and squinted, carefully mulling over this number. After a pause, he asked Esis again, "What kind of magic is stored in those two scrolls? What effects do they have? How long do they last?"

"Er… these shouldn't be directly destructive spells…" Esis hastily picked up the scrolls to examine them closely, using his considerable expertise in magical artifacts. Before long, he came to a conclusion, his face lighting up with surprise and joy as he reported back to his leader. "Although I can't be entirely certain, these two scrolls should be…"

After hearing Esis's explanation, Hilika showed an unusual lack of reaction. He became unnaturally quiet, sitting cross-legged on the spot and closing his eyes.

Esis stood silently, not daring to disturb him. He knew his boss well—though Hilika was brutal, ruthless, and capable of tearing opponents to shreds without hesitation, he could also calm himself when necessary, analyze situations with a sharp mind, and patiently await the right moment to strike. Beneath his outward savagery lay the cold calculation of a snake, the cunning of a fox, and the endurance of a scorpion. It was this hidden depth that had enabled the Shamusi Thieves' Guild to rise as the dominant force in Alrasia's underworld—it wasn't sheer brutality but something far more profound.

This was also why Esis was willing to serve under a man who seemed crude and reckless. Intelligence was important, yes, but true strength lay in the soul.

After a long while, Hilika opened his eyes and asked, "I remember you mentioned that those elves are quite wealthy."

Esis hesitated, then replied, "I was referring to the magical artifacts they've accumulated. Since they've managed to establish a long-term teleportation array, their magical resources and capabilities are probably on par with those of a major nation like Alrasia. But as for gold… they don't seem to have much of that."

Hilika grunted in acknowledgment, pondering for a moment before saying, "We'll need to hire help. Those people we considered bringing on last time."

"But… their fees are extremely high," Esis said hesitantly.

The truth was, after receiving the mysterious elder's scrolls and commission last time, Hilika hadn't immediately launched a large-scale operation. Though Esis had been confident in the effectiveness of the magical scroll, the Turaleone Forest was not a place one could casually venture into. The beauty of elven women was renowned throughout the world, and countless nobles had long coveted them, yet very few had managed to capture one in the past decade. This spoke volumes about the elves' vigilance. Thus, instead of acting rashly, Hilika had hired others to "test the waters."

Alrasia had no shortage of criminals—men who would do anything for money, even if they weren't part of the Shamusi Thieves' Guild. Many of them operated alone, possessing exceptional skills that made them formidable in their own right. Naturally, their fees were proportionate to their abilities. For this initial probe, Hilika had been unwilling to spend heavily on top-tier talent, but now that the trial had proven fruitful, the stakes were different.

"Whatever they ask for, agree to it. Even if we need to pay deposits upfront, we'll do it," Hilika commanded Esis firmly, his tone slow and deliberate. "Remember, hire every expert in Alrasia we can. No matter the cost. Use all of our funds if necessary—not a single coin should be left unspent."

Hilika's voice was calm, not just steady but imbued with a detachment, as if the money that had always driven him meant nothing now.

Esis listened carefully, surprised but without question or doubt. He understood—only one thing could make a man who cherished money above all else spend it so recklessly: an unwavering resolve. Hilika's calm tone only underscored the magnitude of his determination. The strongest emotions were those hidden deep within. Nodding, Esis turned to leave. "Understood. I'll get to it right away."

"Wait," Hilika called after him, exhaling deeply. The faint tremor in his voice echoed through the chamber, like a volcano on the verge of eruption. "When you go out, have someone bring me three women…" He paused, his breathing growing heavier. "And also a noble boy. Thirteen years old, with golden hair. Make sure he's a noble—a viscount's son would be best."

"Yes, I understand," Esis nodded and walked out. Perhaps influenced by Hilika's resolve, he too felt a surge of excitement and restlessness. He could tell that something unprecedented was about to unfold. Maybe he should also find a way to relax a little, he thought.

Though his unfortunate injury from that lightning bolt had rendered certain activities impossible, he still had other methods. Watching the agony and despair of beautiful women was now his sole remaining pleasure.