Shoot for the nuts of the unsuspected

The carriage had journeyed halfway to its destination, and the surprising lack of disturbances was putting a dent in Crim's plan. The captain remained composed, refusing to speak, while the driver wore a grimace as he did his duty.

Observing the passengers in the rear, the young man appeared dissatisfied. In any other setting, this might have sparked outrage, especially in the eyes of the media, which loved to stir up controversies.

Then came the unexpected. A loud noise erupted from the carriage's rear, startling the horses and freezing them in their tracks. Both Crim and the impatient man rushed to investigate, much to the latter's annoyance and the former's satisfaction.

'Finally,' Crim smiled.

There, they discovered five individuals pilfering rations, with the largest among them seemingly acting as their leader. 

Crim put his hands together, out of reflex.

He attempted to weave a spell, only to be reminded of the void of magic. His ill-fated display rendered him an easy target for the lankiest of the group, who lunged toward him with a dagger. 

"Hmm, too slow," Crim muttered.

The bandits' attack was clumsy. He charged recklessly, unable to stop his forward with full throttle momentum. Crim effortlessly sidestepped, shifting a step to the right.

As he contemplated a countermove, the captain swiftly hurled a knife, preventing Crim from catching him off guard. "Useless," the captain taunted.

Crim's mind raced with countless ways to exact revenge on the man before him, but for now, the effort required exceeded his current capabilities. 

He unsheathed his gleaming metal sword, lunging toward the apparent leader. Swift as lightning, Crim vaulted into the air, driving his blade deep into the massive man's skull.

The other henchmen panicked, swinging their swords at both Crim and the Captain. They closed in from three sides, and Crim found himself hard-pressed to fend off their relentless assault. Meanwhile, the Captain, ever the strategist, concealed his intentions and meticulously studied their attackers' movements.

"Now," the Captain commanded, and the trembling Driver hurled a shield their way. Captain snatched it from the air, and with a swift motion, slammed it into the ground. The resulting shockwave sent the bandits tumbling into the earth, although they quickly scrambled to their feet.

Crim soon realized his initial assessment was flawed. The obese man, while issuing orders, was not the true leader. The remaining trio appeared to be seasoned mercenaries.

They launched a coordinated attack, coming at Crim from different angles. Two of them focused on him, underestimating him as the weaker adversary, while the third wielded a chain, aiming to divert the Captain's attention and eliminate the perceived weak link.

Mercenary 1 clashed swords with Crim, exerting tremendous force.

 Then, with a clever feint, he made an amateurish swing, creating a distraction before delivering a powerful low blow to the rushing enemy's nuts. For a fleeting moment, the mercenaries's life flashed before his eyes, while he coughed blood.

"Rookie mistake, sucker!" Crim screamed in his mind, stabbing him a few times to be sure.

Meanwhile,

Captain faced off against the deftly wielded chain, his body marked with painful cuts as he fought to keep his weapon from being entangled and snatched. The skilled opponent denied him the chance to close in, launching a relentless barrage of whip strikes.

Meanwhile, the Knight bided their time, searching for the perfect moment to strike.

The mercenary expertly manipulated his sturdy chain, landing several hits as he targeted the Knight's sword. As time passed, fatigue crept in, slowing his movements. He took a step back, trying to regain control of the fight, and resorted to throwing daggers from a pouch with his left hand.

Captain's demeanor suddenly shifted, his expression growing calmer. Though sweat streamed down his face, a sly smirk formed as he noticed the slowing pace, allowing him to evade with greater ease. Yet, he remained vigilant, knowing that oncoming attacks could still catch him off guard.

"Frustrating!" the mercenary cried out, hurling a barrage of needles at Crim. 

The young man narrowly dodged, but his left arm was grazed in the process. He lunged forward, sword at the ready, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to the mercenary. However, as he moved, he realized that his arm was not responding as it should, prompting him to step back cautiously.

"Poison?" Crim inquired, his expression poised.

The man wore a smirk, his tone taunting, "The finest the black market has, my friend! What's your plan now, young man? Face death with just one arm?"

Crim swapped the sword to his other hand with a casual flick. "I've heard that line countless times, usually in movies."

The mercenary looked bewildered, not quite grasping what a 'movie' was. But he stayed focused on the fight, drawing a gleaming silver short sword from his pouch.

Then, in a burst of action, both sides charged at each other. But suddenly, Crim halted, hurling his sword at full force towards the unsuspecting mercenary.

"They do this in movies too," Crim chuckled outwardly, masking his inner panic. With his adrenaline plummeting, he knew he'd lose if the battle continued.

 He collapsed to the ground, miraculously avoiding serious injury, though his arm had been rendered useless.

If only he could use magic, this situation wouldn't be a problem. Desperation gripped him. Glancing to his right, he spotted Captain, battered and bloodied, approaching. Crim quickly severed one of the mercenary's hands and stashed it away for later use.

As the captain entered the carriage, he shouted with all his might, drawing the attention of all the slaves.

 While their eyes were fixed on the irritated captain, Crim skillfully slipped the fallen men's hand inside the clothing of one of the bound slaves, and one finger inside the captain's pocket.

 To the onlookers, it appeared to be nothing more than a reassuring pat, but it concealed Crim's cunning plan as a simple act to stifle his screams.

Before he retreated, he kicked one of the youngsters, prompting his mother to scream. Even for Crim, this act seemed unusually cruel.

 "I believe it's time to make camp for the day," the young man proposed, and nobody could argue after that encounter.