Within a dense canopy of trees, a group of men who reeked of sweat and mud lounged around a poorly constructed fire. The crackling of wood drowned out their rumbling stomachs.

A sudden rustling of leaves alerted the exhausted men, and a young boy covered in wounds and wearing tattered clothes shouted with a strained voice, "Goldtooth! An armoured convoy attacked us-" The boy stumbled forward and crashed next to the fire, passing out from fatigue.

Goldtooth was an older man with a black beard down to his belly and his distinctive grin of gold teeth. He glanced at the fallen boy, who looked like a skeleton, and sighed deeply, "We die either way! Starvation makes us so weak that even D-rank kids from the guild can make short work of us for little coin! How infuriating, I tell ya!"

The men surrounding the campfire grumbled in agreement; it had been days since they last ate, and the hope of food dwindled with every passing second while their stomachs grew louder and louder.

"Oh? What if I could help you?" A mysterious masculine voice said beside him.

Goldtooth absentmindedly scoffed and poked the campfire with a stick, "Help us? In this famine? Ha! I can't believe I'm hallucinating in my head now." He then looked up and saw all his men had frozen in place. Their faces were so shocked it scared even him!

"Hey!" Goldtooth exclaimed and pointed an accusing grubby finger at his fellow bandits, "I'm not that strange, aight? It's just da hunger getting to me old noggin, that's all!"

Nobody paid him any attention; they just kept staring to his left.

"Lads? What da matter with yers?" He looked to his left and came face to face with a grinning man. His skin was deathly pale like ice, his jawline ridged and defined, his nose thin, and his eyes- his eyes...

"Mister bandit, what if I could help." The man asks; his voice is oddly soft and enticing. His scarlet eyes seemed profound and glowed softly; as he spoke, they swirled and drew him in like quicksand, and he couldn't do anything except answer the question.

"Yes." The great Goldtooth replied monotonously, "That would be ideal."

The man grinned, his white fangs slipping past his lip.

"My name is Damien. You will listen to me now?" He says, yet Goldtooth does not hear; he can only respond as if he was born to answer this man's questions since the day he was born. Fangs? Red eyes? Suspicious? No. Just answer the man's questions, for it is your duty.

"Yes."

The man grins wider; it's inhuman, too wide; this man is no human. He is a monster. Goldtooth wrestled with his mind; he needed to run, flee, escape as far from this monster in human skin.

But he cannot.

He must obey.

"Help me, friends!" He screamed, yet it did not manifest into words and only echoed around his confused mind. The monster did not ask him to scream or shout even though he wanted to with all his being, "Run! Flee! Save yourselves!" His mouth opens, but no words flow out. The bandits sit there, stupidly looking on with the same shocked expressions.

The nobleman straightened up and seemed happy with himself. "Hypnosis has reached the C grade; it should be good enough for now."

Goldtooth watched his MaNiPulAtor in horror and respect, but why? Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey. Just obey.

"SHUT UP!" Goldtooth roared in his mind; a massive wave of pain assaulted him, but he felt free? He looked around, rolled his tongue and furrowed his brows. He could finally think, move, open his mouth, and shout, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YER BASTARD?"

Damien turned on his heel with bored movements, "Oh? A mundane dares to resist?"

"GET OUT OF MY HEAD, YOU MONSTER! FIEND OF DARNKESS UNHAND MER MEN-"

Damien leaned on his cane and laughed, "No, I don't think I shall adhere to your demands, barbarian! I respect your willpower, but you will obey."

Before Goldtooth could even resist, Damien's eyes glowed a deep scarlet like lakes of blood, and his mind cracked and crumbled under the mental assault.

***

Hypnosis [C -> C+] (New) - By maintaining eye contact with the target, the caster can influence the target's mind and implant suggestions and alter recent memories. The effect ends shortly after breaking eye contact. The spell can only affect those with weak mental defences or those susceptible to manipulation.

Damien looked at the mighty Goldtooth, who had become a mere docile man with disinterest. Goldtooth's merry band of fellows was the third bandit camp they had hit on the way to Staedbergh to raise his new spell to a usable grade as he required Hypnosis for his plans.

"Goldtooth?"

The massive bear of a man with a black beard, gold teeth and beady black eyes nodded like a golden retriever.

"You hate the guards on duty, right?"

Goldtooth absentmindedly shook his head.

Damien looked at the man whose stomach was still rumbling and found his point of attack.

"Listen here. You are Goldtooth, the mighty bandit feared throughout the lands, right?"

The man furiously nodded.

"Those guards are mere TWIGS before your mighty hands; they eat and laugh at your name while you struggle and starve. Is that fair? How can someone so mighty be disgraced in such a manner?"

Goldtooth was furious, his face beet red.

"The night is young." Damien said, gesturing around, "The guards would never expect such a manly assault upon themselves at such an hour! Rally your men! Assault the gates! TAKE BACK WHAT IS YOURS!"

Damien's eyes practically shone with power through the darkness. Meanwhile, Goldtooth was unfocused and confused; it was as if he had downed the rum barrel all by himself on this cold night!

With new-found confidence, the half-starved bandit rallied his equally mind fucked fellows and charged through the darkness without weapons, armour or a single plan "CHARGEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!"

Damien whistled at their enthusiasm, "Best of luck, fellas!" He jokingly shouted and heard them cheer in return.

"Merry bunch, aren't they?" Vanity chuckled from the side; she had been hypnotising Goldtooth's subordinates while Damien focused on the big boss.

Fay followed in Vanity's footsteps. She wore a black robe and white mask, and her raven black hair flowed freely down her shoulders. Only her scarlet eyes peered through the mask's slits with amusement.

Damien shrugged at this sister's words, "They sure are cheerful for people with a few days of life left."

The trio followed in the bandits' path; vegetation had been trampled and pushed aside as the bandits blindly charged to reclaim their lost honour. Or at least that is what they wholeheartedly believed.

Damien whispered to Fay as they stalked their prey through the night, "Has Walter gone back to Blackthorn with the car?"

Fay nodded, and they continued to move in silence.

***

"CHARGEEEEEEEE!!!"

A man wearing thick furs stared in confusion at the wooden table covered with playing cards. His fellow officers also looked baffled. A massive man was hurtling toward them outside the window with drunken fury.

The officers of Staedbergh abruptly stood as more bandits appeared from the forest and charged down the hill towards the northern gate.

"It's an attack! Brandon! Arm the formations!"

Brandon scrambled off at the command, the door swung open, and the icy mist nipped at his hands and face. He ran across the frozen ground toward the gatehouse.

"Good sir, do I have green eyes?"

Brandon missed a step and stumbled from the sudden question. He swore as he whipped his head around, "You imbecile, we are under attack; your eyes aren't even green! They are red-" Brandon stopped and stood still like a puppet.

A man wearing a black robe questioned in a hushed tone. "Can we pass?"

Brandon shook his head.

The man gestured to the two beautiful women following him and said sadly, "We are weary travellers from afar; you wouldn't want us to be caught outside during an attack, good sir?"

Brandon shook his head once more. "I don't care about travellers..."

Vanity hissed in annoyance; her scarlet eyes shone like headlights and met Brandon's. He instantly kneeled as if meeting his Queen and trembled all over.

"Mortal, you shall let us past." Vanity grinned, "And then fight the bandits outside alone."

Brandon didn't waste a second; he opened the gate's side door. The trio walked past him as he charged out to face his death.

Since the defensive formations never activated, the Bandits reached the gate and began punching the metal. Their fists were bloody and mangled, yet they felt no pain; only the instilled order persisted. They didn't know why but they all had a deep hatred for these guardsmen, and only bathing in their blood would restore their lost honour.

Goldtooth looked at his mangled hand. Bones poked out, and his body shuddered from the pain; his clouded mind cleared. "Where am I?"

"DIE!" A man wearing a fur coat charged from the gate's side door; he held no weapon yet had no fear. The fur coat guardsman's fist connected with Goldtooths cheek, and as he fell to the ground, he saw a cloaked figure beyond the gate.

Scarlet eyes stared at him, and now he remembered.

He opened his mouth to spread a warning. He knew he was dead, but maybe... just maybe... he could save them. He hated them, but when one faces death, the humanity he had buried so deep rose to the surface. A monster has snuck into Staedbergh, and they needed to know!

But before he could offer his words of warning, the town's defences came to life, and a bolt of lightning illuminated the darkened sky; like a judgmental god, it descended upon him, and his world went black.