"It is only those whose life are safe and prosperous who could spare a thought to all sorts of concepts like the moral high ground and correctness. For people who lived with their lives on the line, such things are beyond pointless. You simply do whatever it takes to survive instead. Who cares for the judgment of others if caring for it only gets your ass killed?" - Oleg Festain, famed Therian warlord of the western Isles, known for his ruthlessness.

Aideen weaved around the horses, which conveniently covered the sight from the other side. The well trained animals stood still even as fighting erupted around them, and even the injured ones stayed where they were, as their training overcame their instincts to flee.

She worked a bit of magic to tide off those injured horses as she passed by, though there was nothing she could do about the dead ones. The sound of fighting still echoed loudly from Zoya's side of the road, and as she came out, she saw a shortened line of eight people holding against twenty five bandits or so.

Three of the guards had fallen back, their injuries severe enough that they could fight no longer, while the bandits seemed unwilling to risk their lives to push too hard Seven corpses of their compatriots who did push hard served as an example, but neither could Zoya's side push out since they were still badly outnumbered.

Aideen quickly patched up the worst of the three severely injured guards' wounds, two of them unconscious and only alive as their fellow guards had forced them back. Aideen bid the third one to look over them after her patchjob while she herself rushed forward.

Her figure was hidden from the view of the bandits by the shield wall, so when she circled around the side and struck, they were taken by surprise. The spearhead on her right-hand staff took the surprised bandit in the throat, while her left hand held the middle staff and flailed the left one at the man behind that bandit. As the bandit reacted too late, the perpendicular blade struck the man on the side of his head, the sharpened adamant blade punched through his skull.

Aideen then held the right-hand staff near the blade in a reverse grip, before she swung it on its full length towards further bandits who harassed the next guard in line. The spearhead on the weapon's other end sliced past the necks of two bandits, and the perpendicular blade punched through the back of a third one's neck.

Two of the three bandits died instantly, while the third, a woman, desperately tried to stem the blood which flowed freely from the wound on her throat. Aideen ignored the dying woman as she rushed past, and descended on the other bandits with weapons bared.

As she cut her way from the left side, she saw that Zoya had engaged another bandit who wore fancier armor in a fight. They seemed evenly matched, as the bandit was clearly skilled enough to keep up with her. He expertly turned the heavy blows of her axe with his round metal shield, while his sword always posed itself, ready to exploit any openings.

The man was so focused on Zoya that he had not noticed Aideen behind him. She took one look at the situation, before she shrugged and lightly whacked the man on the back of his helmet. Not hard enough to kill, but plenty enough to knock the man out cold.

By now, the rest of the bandits had noticed how the tides had turned, and some fled like before. Once again Aideen made an example of those who fled, and rounded up the rest as they surrendered. Unlike the previous group she dealt with, who had looked a bit more disciplined, most of this group were lousier, though they wore the same outfit.

"Thanks for the help," said Zoya after they rounded up the bandits that surrendered and tied up the unconscious leader. She had some cuts on her body, a few of them somewhat serious, but none that were of immediate urgency. "I take it everything went fine on your side then?"

"Yeah, we got another one that looked like a leader there. We got him tied up in case you need to ask them questions," replied Aideen as she worked her magic on the guards who had the worst injuries. "I'll get to everyone else after I fix these guys."

The one who suffered the worst wound was coincidentally the one she asked to look after the two unconscious guards earlier, an old man who looked to be of mixed human and therian blood, who had lost his right arm in the battle.

He had looked horribly dejected by the injury, less about its severity but more about how it spelled the end of his fighting days. Healers in the current empire were rare and sought after, and the man did not have enough savings to afford one of the handful skilled enough to fix his injury.

At least, he was dejected until Aideen worked her magic on him. She had pressed his cut arm to the wound as she worked, while the old soldier felt it as her magic flowed through the limb. Moments later he stared at his arm where it had been cut off, baffled as he flexed his newly reattached arm. The only sign left of the injury was the pink, baby-like skin where the cut was.

Aideen then made her rounds, and healed those with more serious injuries first. The guards looked on in wonderment as she worked her magic freely, the more seriously injured ones thanked her with tears in their eyes.

Most healers in the Elmaiya Empire tended to be haughty and stuck up, and had demanded high prices for their services, which was no surprise as they primarily served nobles. People like the current emperor were very rare, and it was partly because he was so popular amongst the populace as an indiscriminate, wandering healer that the faction behind Khaer Ul had made him their figurehead, and later, Emperor.