As soon as he’d entered Glenwood Wolf met with the representative of the local militia.

“Greetings Lord Mage, have you come to help us with the band of brigands led by Chris Adams?” the solidly built middle aged man asked in a deep voice.

“That man is a real nasty piece of work, he is,” the militia leader continued. “If the Emperor wasn’t protecting villages, towns and such, he would’ve overrun us a long time ago. I heard people say the man’s a genuine Body Refiner.

“Him and his gang have been in these parts for some four years now. It took them a year to make a name for themselves. I heard they even dared to hit caravans escorted by real soldiers and even knights,” the man continued in a nervously helpful manner.

“After he attacked the tax collectors the Baron put a bounty on his head. However, every time someone came to hunt him down, well… They never returned and his bounty kept getting higher and higher. I think you’re the eight person. The last two were from the same place as you, Lord Mage.” The man wanted to say that those who came before were bigger and more competent, but reigned in his tongue before offending a Fourth Order Mage.

While listening to these random tidbits wasn’t exactly boring, they weren’t what Wolf needed to know.

“How do I find him?” he asked impatiently. “Do you know what the man looks like? Do you know how many men he has?”

“Chris is a big, bald fellow, or so I’ve heard,” the militia leader said, then quickly corrected himself. “I mean he ain’t got no hair, not that he has big balls, but he’s probably got those too. He’s only got six men in his gang, but they are all hardened veterans. Well, except one, he’s just a dumbass kid tagging along.”

“And where can I find them?” Wolf did his best to hide his emotions and not to roll his eyes in exasperation.

“Just keep going down the road tomorrow morning and wear something shiny, Chris will find you in a blink,” the middle aged man replied offhandedly.

Do you take me for an idiot? Who uses themselves as bait!? Wolf thought, forgetting that he’d used himself as bait all those years ago when traveling from the Great Yellow River towards Silver City.

“I think it’s a good plan,” Wolf said thoughtfully. “How about you wear something shiny and I watch you from a distance?”

“Lord Mage, that is–” the man faltered as he tried to voice a complaint, but there really was no reason why he couldn’t be the bait if a Lord Mage could.

“I have to maintain the order around these parts. Besides, they would recognize me!” Finally the pale-faced guard came up with a half baked excuse.

“In that case, do you maybe have a better idea on how I could find them?” Wolf asked with a frown.

“I really don’t know Lord Mage. If we did, this matter would’ve been settled a long time ago,” the militiaman said in an over-exaggerated manner.

“All right. I’ll figure something out. You may leave,” Wolf shooed away the nervous militiaman.

“Thank you Lord Mage,” the militia captain said and hurriedly went away.

He’s most likely in cahoots with the bandits. Wolf thought as he watched the man scuttle away. It had happened more than once in the novels. I don’t know what other reason he would have to suggest that I should stay here half a day today and to spend the night. And he seems to know too many details about those bandits for someone who hadn’t seen them. Still, unless I can prove it, killing him is a crime.

If they know that I’m coming, and that I’m a Mage, they will probably have some men armed with bows, while the rest will hide somewhere they can easily engage from and drag me into melee.

Wolf didn’t like the situation, but the bow attackers could be taken care of with Deflect Arrows, and as for people throwing themselves into melee with him, well, that was their funeral and had nothing to do with Wolf.

The only thing Wolf could do now was play along and pretend he was baited into the trap. Left without a choice, Wolf spent the evening in the local inn, waiting for the morning.

Wolf’s food and lodgings were covered by the town, which only caused the youth to be more vigilant. He checked his food, but found it wasn’t poisoned. He didn’t think the bandits’ accomplices had the guts to take him out like that, but better safe than sorry, as Archibald always used to say.

The next day Wolf waited about an hour after the sun rose. Then he had breakfast and slowly walked out of the town of Glenwood, following the militiaman’s instructions.

The road first cut through a cultivated clearing, then a pasture on which cows, sheep and goats were already grazing. He’d seen a couple of herders, who nodded while trying to keep the awkward expressions from their faces. The men hid their emotions admirably, but couldn’t do anything about the pity in their eyes.

About five kilometers away from the palisade the terrain changed and became a sparse forest. Wolf immediately knew this was it. An ideal spot for an ambush where people could hide in the trees, while Wolf was out in the open.

Unexpectedly, even after he’d covered another kilometer, nothing happened. Wolf kept walking and a quarter of an hour later he saw a tattered wagon pulled by a team of horses. The coachman was wounded, as was the guard who sat next to him. In front of the coach two well built, but tired and dirty men walked with droopy shoulders. The group looked like they’d just gone through a tough fight.

At least to a person who didn’t have Wolf’s perception. Wolf fully awakened his senses for a moment and he could tell from the smell that the blood belonged to some fowl rather than a human. The pattern of sweat on their foreheads and faces was all wrong and didn’t smell right either. It was just water haphazardly splashed on their heads to make it look like they’d sweated a river.

In the next moment Wolf dulled down his senses to twenty percent awakened. Even without superior perception there were signs of things being wrong. The wagon hit three bumps, but the “wounded” men riding it didn’t wince once, despite making pained faces.

The wounded riding the wagon were armed with long-swords, as was one of the guards walking in front of the wagon. As for the last man, he had a great-sword strapped across his back.

The three guards wore mail body armor splattered with fresh blood, while the driver wore a damaged studded leather jerkin which revealed a hastily bandaged wound.

“Turn back young man! We barely escaped from a dangerous bandit group just now,” the coachmen said loudly, yet with an overly hoarse voice.

“That’s great!” Wolf said with an excited smile. “I'm here to wipe out the bandits. You four should keep running. There’s a town down the road, you'll be safe there.”

With those words Wolf merrily continued on his way. Seemingly completely ignoring the wagon and the four armed men, but in reality Wolf had already awakened his senses more than enough. He focused on his silver-hilted long-sword inside his Ring of Holding and was ready for an explosion of violence at the drop of a hat.

Wolf slowly walked towards the wagon, but surprisingly didn’t open up as much distance as possible. This seemed to confuse the four men and the ones armed with long-swords tightened their holds on the hilts.

They seemed nervous and ready to defend as soon as Wolf attacked. However his attack never came. He and the wagon passed each other without incident.

*Twang! Twang!*

Then, just as Wolf had expected, a pair of arrows came flying out of the treetops from both sides of the road.

Wolf’s sword appeared in his hand. He ignored one arrow aimed at his chest, while parrying the one he found more suitable. The arrow heading for Wolf’s torso struck an invisible barrier and bounced off harmlessly. As for the second arrow, Wolf deflected it and changed its trajectory.

“Aaaargh!” the walking guard armed with a long-sword was struck by the arrow Wolf just deflected.

Wolf heard a commotion from behind his back and the batting of feet against the stone road. The three unwounded men were charging towards him, while the fourth one had an arrow stuck in his thigh.

“The bandits are attacking!” Wolf exclaimed, pretending he still didn’t know what was going on.

However, only an idiot would fall for it now, especially with those enraged faces staring murder at Wolf’s profile. The youth almost immediately regretted his immature joke.

These guys are fast. He suddenly realized. Faster than regular people ought to be.

In an instant a pair of long-swords stabbed towards Wolf’s side. The strikes were perfectly coordinated. If Wolf dodged to the front or to the back, one sword would bite into Wolf’s flesh. Sidestepping away from the pair was even dumber. A normal person would be out of balance and slower than the attackers and die for sure.

A regular soldier or a normal Fourth Order Mage would’ve been dead at this point. Unfortunately for the bandits, Wolf had all the time in the world even with his senses only twenty percent awake.

It had been ages since Wolf used awakened senses in combat, but the difference was huge. It was as if these guys were moving in slow motion, exposing all the flaws of their attacks. And the flaw really was obvious.

Wolf crouched, coiling his leg muscles and then cannonballed into the attackers under their strikes. Sometimes being short came with its own advantages. As did weighing almost a quarter of a ton.

*Crack*

Wolf cracked coachman’s ribs as he slammed his shoulder into the man and sent him flying like a rag doll. Wolf was about to kick the other man in the hip and shatter his pelvis when he suddenly heard the air scream as a great-sword slashed through it.

The big man had swung his blade in an attempt to cleave Wolf in half, but the youth wasn’t as accommodating. He once more relied on the strength of his physical body to jump back. A split second later the heavy blade smashed into the stone road.

*Boom!*

The man struck the ground so hard a small shockwave spread, sending the flagstones flying. He pulled on the weapon once, trying to yank it out of the ground, but the oversized sword was firmly stuck in place.

For a moment Wolf was surprised by the power of the burly man’s blow. He was definitely some sort of a Body Refiner.

Wolf was about to stab him, but the guard whose hip the muscle-brain had just saved returned the favor. The man executed Mighty Slash, the most basic First Order Sword-Sage maneuver surprising Wolf yet again.

One is a Body Refiner, while this guy is a Sword-Sage. Wolf thought as he took a step back and deflected the blow with his blade angled. No, the move was too sloppy for him to be a full-fledged Sword-Sage. But he’s close.

*Twang! Twang!*

Oh, come on. As if you don’t know how this is going to end…

One arrow struck Wolf in the back and bounced off, as for the other one with a flick of his sword Wolf sent it to the man he’d designated to be the pincushion.

“Aaaaa!” the man screamed again. The arrow was less than ten centimeters away from the other one.

“Get away from him! You’re not his match!” A heroic, gruff voice came from the underbrush.

Hearing this command the unwounded pair disengaged in different directions. They were obviously well practiced with this maneuver. Taking a split second to think, Wolf chose the Body Refiner and chased after him.