The soft, pale light of the moon shone down on the snowy world below. But occasionally, a cloud would obstruct even the little amount of light it provided. Yet even under these moments of nearly complete darkness, one group remained unimpeded.

A Necromancer and his undead marched across the landscape, the snow crunched under their feet with each step. The weapons each of them carried clinked lightly with every movement. As the undead walked, these were the only noises they made. They were organized into a pair of columns, four each. At the front, their leader rode tall on the back of his mount. Some distance ahead of them, columns of smoke rose into the sky.

Eventually, Emil had Ray stop walking as he saw something. It was still quite a bit far from them. He could make out the flickering glow of a fire, but not much else from where they currently were. The Necromancer slid off the back of his elk, and decided to approach closer on foot. He had a fair understanding of how the camp itself looked from what Theo had seen before. But now that it was night, he wanted to see for himself how prepared the bandits were for an attack.

Emil slowly advanced to the camp’s position. When the nearest tents were only about a hundred feet away, he decided that he was close enough. The Undead Human scanned the campsite, and noted a few of its features.

It was formed as a circle of tents, fourteen in total by his count. They were fully enclosed, with fabric covering the entrance of each one. Though the covers seemed loose, like one just need to pull it open to get in and out. The tents generally seemed only just big enough to fit one person. Perhaps two at most if they were squeezed together. So on that assumption, there were anywhere between fourteen and twenty-eight bandits.

It was an estimate that would match the two dozen or so bandits he saw prior in his visions. But for the size of the pitched shelters, there was a single exception. One tent on the opposite side of him was distinctly double the size of the rest.

In the campsite, it seemed two fires had been lit. One came from inside the larger tent, as smoke climbed out from it. But the main fire was located at the center of the circular formation. About half a dozen people sat around it. He assumed that they were the night watch, on guard against animals or the law as the rest of their group slept. The men and women were each engaged in different activities.

They ate and drank as they spoke with one another, though they were too far for Emil to make out what was being said. A couple of them were busy sharpening and cleaning their weapons. But amongst these bandits, there was one individual who stood out to him. From general appearance alone, the woman wore the same style of attire as the others.

But it wasn’t any difference in physical looks that drew the Necromancer’s attention. Rather, it was the ambient Mana in the air around her. There was a noticeable drop in its concentration in the space immediately around where she sat. And as he observed the bandits, Emil could see that the surrounding Mana steadily tried to fill in that empty space. But instead of doing so, it was slowly absorbed into the woman’s body.

Emil’s eyes narrowed as the implication was more than obvious to him. From the amount of Mana she actively took in, this woman had to be a spellcaster. Out of every Class provided by the System, it was those such as Mages that generally needed the most Mana for their abilities. In turn, they typically had the highest capacity for their Mana Level compared to other Classes.

This was someone who could pose a threat even to his undead. Normal weapons would only be able to do real damage if they struck either the soul or memory orb empowering an undead. But offensive spells had no need for such precision if sufficiently powerful. Soon Emil would launch the assault, and when he did, this woman would be a priority target to attack first.

But I can’t be certain enough to say she’s the only one. There might be other spellcasters currently asleep in the tents. However, in a group of a couple dozen, there can’t be that many amongst them. Maybe three or four at the very most, if I had to make a guess. Emil thought to himself.

If he was being honest though, even that was a stretch. The fact that even one person capable of casting spells would choose a bandit’s lifestyle was a surprise in of itself. Emil couldn't honestly say anything for Vermila. But in his home of the Kingdom of Mendac, being born with that capability would almost guarantee someone a comfortable life.

When approximately only one out of ten people could even sense Mana, the government had plenty of programs to cultivate and aid those that could. This was especially true for the even more uncommon cases of those who were born with that potential, without coming from an established bloodline of Mana users. Emil had always just assumed that it was the same way everywhere else, so he didn’t understand why someone with that ability would turn to a life of robbery and murder.

Oh well, whatever reasons she or any others might have had, it doesn’t really matter. It wouldn’t excuse the fact that they chose to make a living out of taking the lives of innocent people. What happens next is just the natural consequence of that choice.

If Emil used a couple of memory orbs, he could unleash a cloud of death large enough to envelop all of them. And while that would be the most efficient thing to do, it wouldn’t be the justice he had promised to the dead guards. No, he would let the undead take their rightful retribution against those who ended their lives.

The order he would give as the one who controlled them would be a simple one. Kill all those who were amongst the group that attacked them, or who otherwise wore the same style of attire. He would form a strategy for them to follow, but aside from that, he wanted to limit his involvement in their individual actions. Also, the Necromancer himself would only personally step in as he deemed necessary.

With the bandit camp’s current state now known, Emil silently returned to his group. They were still in their prior positions, ready and waiting for his next order. He grabbed two memory orbs from the bag. One he planned to use now during the opening attack. And the other was something to already have on hand, just in case he needed it. As he grabbed them, he had a thought.

Perhaps once the battle was over, he could rummage through the bandits’ ill-gotten goods for potentially useful supplies. It would be nice to have a convenient way to keep a storage of all the memory orbs on his person. Rather than only currently being able to carry a couple at a time with just a small pouch or clothing pockets. The problem with those options was both the limited capacity and the lack of any real protection against attacks.

But with the two memory orbs now prepared, Emil turned to his undead. The plan for each of them was simple. He would have Ray stay at a distance with his possessions. Theo would move around to the woods at the opposite end of the camp. Its purpose would be to stay on guard and watch for any stragglers who tried to escape.

If anyone did try to flee, its job would be to incapacitate them, and only go for the kill if necessary. Ideally, one of the undead guards would be able to finish them off after the main battle was over. Speaking of which, they would be the ones to do the main fighting and killing. While Emil would be at the back of their group, and watch to see if he needed to intervene. As of right now, he only intended to kill a single target before letting them have justice against the rest.

The Necromancer and his undead encroached on the perimeter of the bandit camp. Any closer, and someone would potentially be able to hear their movements. They would hold there for just a few moments and wait for his signal. Of the ghosts, two of them had been adeptly trained in archery while alive. This meant that of the eight undead guards, four were equipped with bows and arrows.

Emil went a little farther ahead on his own, and held out a memory orb between his fingers. Before anything else, he decided to repeat what he did before with the giant spiders. Just in case, he wanted to make a habit of willing for his Sheet to stay up before potential battles.

Once that was out of the way, Emil could focus on the task at hand. He stared at his target, the spellcaster who still sat by the fire next to her companions. The Undead Human concentrated as he tightly grasped the orb, and channeled a flow of Mana to cast Death Magic.

-50 Mana

Mana Level: 250/300

The memory orb collapsed in his grip, its energy concentrated down into a compact shard of pure, potent death. It shot out from his hand, and flew through the air like a silent arrow. The tiny fragment pierced straight through the woman’s fur clothing, and dug itself into her back. The woman jolted, and quickly stood up. But before anything else could be done, she suddenly clutched at her chest. She then went limp and fell sideways into the snowy ground, already dead.

The other bandits quickly stood up and moved to her. One of them shouted out as he knelt down beside the deceased woman. In their panic over her condition, all of them were fully focused on their companion. So as the undead immediately acted on Emil’s signal, none of them noticed until it was far too late. The moment the woman had fallen, they had already moved into place and drew back their bows.

A small volley of arrows was unleashed upon the bandits. Tightly grouped up around the fallen woman, they collectively made for easy targets. Connected to one another through Emil, the undead archers acted together in almost perfect unison. There was little to no wind to factor into their aim. Four arrows whistled through the air, and arced down into their targets.

The arrows pierced through the backs and sides of the distracted bandits. As soon as they were loosed, the archers grabbed from their quivers and readied for another round. Three waited for more targets, while the fourth shot a second arrow at the last member of the bandit night watch.

The coordinated attack was swift and efficient. In the span of mere seconds, the group was incapacitated. Even those that didn’t die within moments were still no longer worth Emil’s concern. With their lungs pierced, they were unable to yell out and wake their sleeping companions.

As the Necromancer looked upon the camp, the other four undead made their way toward it. With their weapons drawn, they were prepared for an up close and personal battle. Emil kept an eye on the tents as the undead approached. One of the dead bandits had shouted out for the spellcaster as she collapsed.

They were drinking and talking, so ideally anyone who heard it would dismiss it as just part of a drunk conversation and go back to sleep. But if anyone was concerned enough to come out and investigate, then the archers would immediately react. The moment anyone even peeked their head out, an arrow would just as quickly end them. As long as none of the bandits had the chance to fully alarm the rest, all would go smoothly.

But Emil was just as ready for any sudden complications. For an unexpected development to make that plan go awry. He still had the second memory orb on him. And if need be, Negative Magic was in itself silent by nature. So as long as nobody was looking, a spell such as Negative Void wouldn’t draw attention until it was too late for whomever it hits. He prepared himself to act at a moment’s notice to whatever the situation demanded.

The four melee undead reached the nearest tents. If only one or two people were in a tent, then each one didn’t need all four. So by the Necromancer’s will, they separated into pairs. One pair would take the tents to the left, while the other took the ones to the right. They walked around to the entrances of their respective tents and made their way inside.

For the next few seconds, Emil stood there and watched. He didn’t hear anything, nor did he see any sudden movements from the structure of the tent itself. Then after a little time passed, the undead exited. He only saw them as they walked across the gap between tents to get to the next one. The blades of their weapons were painted red. Fresh blood dripped down onto the snow as they walked.

Two at a time, the reanimated guards repeated themselves in each tent. With each one, whoever slept inside would never have the chance to see the morning sun. Emil had expected that this attack would eventually turn into a real battle. But so far, it was more like a one-sided execution by assassins against their helpless quarry.

Four tents worth of bandits were put down in their sleep, then six, then eight. By this point, the majority were already dead. Nobody had suddenly barged out with their weapons and armor ready. Nobody ever screamed out and alerted everyone else that was still alive. Nobody ever knew what was happening, until the moment a blade was driven through their body.

Emil watched as the pairs of undead then moved on to tents nine and ten. As they went inside, he glanced over to the archers. Since the initial volley, none of them had needed to shoot more arrows. Yet even so, their bows and arrows were still ready to be drawn and fired again at a moment’s notice. From his mental connection with Theo, he had yet to feel any changes over from its side.

Things are going smoothly, almost too smoothly. It can’t actually just be this easy, right? Emil asked himself. He had been so ready for something to go wrong, that everything being perfect so far was actually concerning. The undead in the camp once again exited the tents, and moved on to the next pair. After that, there would just be the largest tent and one other left to go.

The Necromancer watched as a little while later, the second to last pair of tents were cleared. The first pair of undead went into the last of the standard tents. But it was the other pair that went to the larger one that kept his full attention. If there was any time for something to happen, it would be now at the eleventh hour.

Emil continued to stare across the encampment, his fingers tense around the memory orb. The first pair of undead then stepped out of their tent, finished with their bloody work. But now that their part was complete, they simply stood still outside. Until he willed for them to act, they would remain idle. Up until this point, the undead had finished with their killing at an even pace. But this time, however, the other pair in the larger tent had yet to come back out.

He raised a hand in its direction and began to preemptively focus on the memory orb. In response, the archers drew back their bows and also took aim. Though Emil still felt his connection to the undead still inside, he still remained tense. A few more seconds passed, before he saw movement. The two undead eventually stepped out of the tent, their job too now completed. As Emil’s hand dropped back down to his side, the archers relaxed the pull on their bowstrings.

With every tent cleared, it was now over. In what still felt like too smoothly executed of an operation, every bandit in the camp was now dead.