The battle for the village!

Days had passed since he bought his bow, and today marked his 27th day in the village. His skill with the bow had improved slightly compared to before; he was already proficient with a bow, and it would take much more time and effort to increase his proficiency.

Thanks to his skill in the bow, he was able to catch an abundance of animals. He sold most of the herbs and meat that he caught to the village, and after selling as much as he did, he was able to save 190 Aurums in total. The village was more prosperous than the fishing village in many ways. He had also bought another 2 sets of arrows, and it bolstered his hunting efficiency by a large margin.

***

Like any other day in the last month or so, Gresvin went hunting early in the morning. He was able to hunt a rather large Woodland elk, a large animal that would fetch quite a decent amount of Aurumns.

He had finished his hunt and was slowly making his way towards the village with a light hum that echoed from his lips. When he involuntarily looked up at the sky, he saw smoke rising. His pupils were constricted; the smoke that drifted in the air was far too dark and way too much to be a small fire for food. "The village!" He cried out of concern.

Gresvin dropped the elk and quickly rushed towards the smoke; the sound of terrified shouts became apparent the nearer he got to the village. 

One thought popped up in his mind, "Bandits!" He doubled his efforts into rushing to the village. Ever since he arrived in the Endless Plains, he had not faced any bandits; it was something he was rather grateful for, but this time, it seemed his luck had run out. 

In the distance, he could see a few of the village buildings had already caught on fire; the horrid screams of women and men alike sounded ear-piercing.

Gresvin did not run away when he saw this, but instead, he took out his bow and knocked an arrow. These people had taken him in and had given him a chance of livelihood, even if it were only for a short while. He felt grateful to them; he would not run away just because they were threatened by a few bandits. After all, even in exile, he was the son of a Marquis, Gresvin Oakfall!

Gresvin quickly found a few men dressed in leather. Their armor was not the best, but compared to the villagers, who had none, there was an enormous difference.

His eyes locked onto one man who was about to cut down a villager, "20 meters." he carefully gauged the distance, and with a steady release of breath, Gresvin let the arrow fly.

Whoosh!

The arrow flew and hit the bandit square in the neck. The woman who was kneeling on the floor was filled with despair when she heard a 'thump' and a body came crashing down before her with a loud thud. She saw it was her attacker, but her eyes widened in shock, the man was dead! She was frightened and quickly got up and fled once more.

The sound of arrows flying could be heard above the village's skies. The screams kept on going, but this time, it was not the villagers' screams that rang out. Gresvin had already taken out another five bandits with his arrows when he locked his gaze on another target.

The bandit seemed intent on running after the villagers when an arrow pierced his neck; with a thud, he fell down, his eyes wide open. The blood flowed out and dyed the ground red. This scene had already happened 5 times before, and Gresvin did not need to shoot twice at the same enemy. 

Gresvin had only just killed the bandit when he started to move; the other bandits were too far for him to reach with his bow, and he needed to get closer. He had gotten himself onto the roofs of the buildings that had not caught fire yet. With the advantage he had in height, he was able to swiftly help where needed.

"1, 2, 3, 4… 15 Bandits" he counted. Not including the ones he had already killed, Gresvin had only a handful of men to deal with. Luckily for him, the bandits were also preoccupied with a small group of villagers, in their hands tools of various kinds like pitchforks, shovels, and hammers were busy clattering down on the bandits. The small group consisted of only 7 men, but they held their own, mainly because the bandits did not give them the time of day.

Gresvin witnessed this scene and was astonished, to say the least. He would have never thought the usually frail men of the village would be able to wield weapons. The one he was not too surprised about was the village elder. He was at the forefront of the village group and was busy fighting two bandits at the same time.

'I knew he was a warrior!' Gresvin smiled as he gazed at the elder. Gresvin only briefly gazed at the group and continued to knock arrows into the string; he had his own set of problems to deal with. 

The sound of arrows whizzing through the air increased. Gresvin's skill with the bow had increased so dramatically compared to before. In the beginning, he had trouble shooting a tree that was a considerable distance away accurately. But now, he had no such problem; every arrow had met its mark, signaling the death of a bandit.

The screams of battle soon died down, and the agonizing cries disappeared like a whisper in the wind. Gresvin climbed down from the rooftops and quickly went to assist the people in extinguishing the fires. The battle was won thanks to the few who fought back, but it did come at a relatively significant cost. Since Grevin had returned from hunting in the forest, he was not able to join the battle in the beginning and was not able to lend a hand. Since he joined the battle, however, the tables slowly turned in the village's favor, and he kept on turning until victory was at hand, all thanks to Gresvin, who had killed most of the bandits in the village.