Lieutenant Ernest was in the middle of talking with a group whose leader looked an awful lot like their former companion. As soon as his name was mentioned, the figure turned to the side with eyes wide.

“Wha... Quentin? And Regis too? Bloody hell guys, I...”

Before Khan could finish what he was about to say, a glowing long sword was pointed at him as bright light burst out from beneath the paladin. The ‘truth-seeker’ domain covered a wide enough area to enshroud the youth and his companions along with the lieutenant and his men.

“Wha...”

“Are you the real Khan?” Quentin asked with an almost demanding yet shaky tone.

“Of course I am,” the Mongol youth replied. “Who the hell else I’d be?”

“Are you under anyone’s charm or control?”

“What? Come on man, you know that nobody can handle me.” Khan replied with an indignant tone.

“Are any of you under the Argents’ or someone else’s command or influence?” Quentin turned his question to the rest of his group.

“No.” The unified answer arrived before Quentin quickly sheathed his weapon and embraced Khan in a brotherly hug as his domain faded.

“You have no idea how worried I was about you, you bloody moron!” The paladin said as he patted the young warrior.

“I have an inkling now,” Khan responded as he managed to break free from the bear hung, his bones and joints creaking. “What the hell was that glowing light and the weird ass questions?”

“We had an impostor travelling with us for a while and after he got busted, Quentin went emo for a time.” Regis explained curtly.

“That son of a bitch,” Khan cursed. “He was boasting about his skill as a shapeshifter, but to think that he managed to fool you guys.”

“Who?”

“Olivier.” A gentle voice answered from the group behind Khan.

As Regis and Quentin looked over their friend’s shoulder, they noticed a young dark elf woman standing there with a slightly awkward expression.

“An Argent?” The paladin asked but Khan shut him down before he could say anything else.

“This is Celine and she’s the one who got me out of the Argents’ dungeon.”

“One of them helped you escape. Why?”

“Not everyone in the family came here willingly,” the woman stated. “Some of us side-branch members are pretty much treated like slaves or cheap workforce. I was stationed as a guard and saw how they treated Khan. It wasn’t right. We were told that things would be different here, but the main family is just as cruel and tyrannical as they were back home.”

“So you busted him out and defected?” Quentin eyed the young dark elf with suspicion as Khan held her hand.

“Come on man. She treated my wounds after I got beaten by that crazy bitch’s brother and she risked her life to get me out of here. She deserves a chance like everyone else.”

“I…”

“Nate?” Regis called out to one of the armoured people behind Khan.

“Regis.” The heavily armoured orc gave an awkward nod after hearing his name.

“You know him?” The paladin’s attention shifted towards Nate.

“He was a classmate of mine back on Earth. He used to beat the living shit out of me with another muscle head, but after I had a ‘talk’ with him, he seemed to have turned over a new leaf.”

“I took your advice from back then.” The orc muttered.

“And Richie?”

“He… wasn’t happy.”

“If you’re talking about the other orc,” Khan sighed. “I had to take him out when he tried to beat Nate to death with a hammer. After that, the big guy joined us along with Leland and Becca. He’s not a bad fella and he’s one hell of a tank.”

“I hate to ruin your reunion,” Lieutenant Ernest cleared his throat. “But I have an important business with this group.”

“What’s going on?” Quentin asked his friend, earning a shrug.

“The keep seems to have a serious bandit problem so we offered to help out. There’s a sizeable gang of lowlifes led by a few outlanders. They’ve been harassing the keep and the travellers heading to the Midlands.”

“How many of them are there?”

“About sixty,” Ernest claimed. “Our patrols had a few fights with them and managed to kill nearly a dozen, but they always get away and it seems like they have a tier two warrior as their leader.”

“Do you know where their hideout is?”

“Yes,” the soldier sighed. “They don’t intend to hide it from us. The bastards took over one of the small villages a day or so from here. Got the place fortified and everything.”

“Why don’t you inform the royal army or send a battalion or two to eradicate them?” Nina asked before realising that she might have stepped out of line.

“The army is already stretched as thin as it is with all the demon sightings and the territorial conflicts. My men also have their hands full. After being reorganised due to royal dispatches, we barely have fifty soldiers holding the keep.”

“Only fifty soldiers,” Quentin hummed. “That’s not nearly enough for a place this size.”

“I know, but we are supposed to receive reinforcements in... a few days.” The lieutenant finished his thoughts as the sound of a horn came from the western gate.

“The reinforcements?” Nina asked wistfully.

“They shouldn’t arrive for another two days.” The man stated as they headed over to the gates.

“Ernest you son of a bitch!” A gruff voice could be heard from the other side of the wall.

“Damn it!” Ernest cussed as they climbed the stairs.

Once they were on top of the wall a surprising sight greeted them. Several dozen armed men and women stood in front of the gates, shields at the ready in case someone wanted to shoot an arrow at them.

“Ernest,” the man at the small army’s head yelled. “Times up. Get your ass out of there!”

“The bandits?” Regis looked at Ernest, earning a slight nod.

“This doesn’t look good.” Quentin remarked as they looked at the armed mob.

“How long will it take for your man to gather?” Regis asked, earning a sigh from the soldier,

“At least 5 minutes, but we barely have any archers left after most of them got sent to aid Escroft with its wolf problem.

“It wouldn’t matter with all those shields.” Khan said.

“I guess we should find out what that guy wants.” The dark elf said with his friends nodding in agreement.

They walked back down the stairs and the soldiers opened the gates just wide enough for the small group to fit through. When they got close enough to be improper hearing distance, Ernest stopped with Regis on one side and Quentin on the other. Khan and his team stood close behind them, ready to attack at the first sign of trouble.

“What do you want, cur?” The Lieutenant asked as the bandit leader and a few of his better-armoured fellows walked closer, stopping only two or so meters in front of them.

“Cur,” the gruff-looking plate-armoured man repeated the word. “You sure have an outdated vocabulary. Anyway, stop playing stupid. I already told you what we want two days ago.”

“You won’t get Rust-well Keep.” Ernest stated almost growling.

“Are you sure about that? You have what, fifty people? Sixty? I have a hundred, not counting a dozen immortals. We both...”

“You’re not immortal.” A cocky voice cut into the bandit leader's speech.

“What?” The man asked, turning toward Khan.

“I said you’re not immortal, dipshit. That was only temporary and it wore out a while ago. Now you can die just like anyone else.”

As Khan was saying those words, Regis lowered his staff to hold it horizontally while his other hand began to form runes just in case.

“And just who the fuck are you to know that?”

“I am Khan, a descendant of the great Genghis Khan. I’m also a tier two Outlander like you are, so stop playing the tough guy in front of me.”

“Another tier two,” the man chuckled as he looked at the others behind himself. “That’s still three against one.”

“Try three against three.” Quentin spoke up as he stared at the man with a heavy glare.

“Okay,” another outlander spoke up from beside the bandit leader. “It looks like little Ernest managed to get some reinforcements.”

“You think this will give you the upper hand Ernest? I didn’t come here to negotiate and your newfound lackeys won’t help either. Get your man out of the fort before sundown or we’ll kill all of you, strip you of your equipment and throw you to the wolves.”

“Outlander or not,” the lieutenant growled as he drew his weapon. “You won’t set a foot inside the keep.”

“Looks like the negotiations have failed.” The man on the boss’ right said as the bandits also began to draw out their weapons.

“It doesn’t matter,” a woman on the left side shrugged. “That loudmouth doesn’t seem strong and Manny can deal with the tank. You get the... wizard.”

The marauders seemed to be far too carefree in discussing their plans in front of their enemies. Regis stabbed forward with his staff that grew out its blade along the way before anyone could even react, aiming at their leader. Manny proved to be just fast enough to raise his shield to block the incoming ‘phasing’ strike.

“Wizards suck at... aargh!” The man tried to mock Regis, but the dark elf grabbed the bladestaff with his other hand.

The runic spell he held back travelled along the bladestaff, using it as a focus. A burst of dark orange flames spewed out from the tip of the blade that previously pierced through the shield. It washed over the bandit leader, making him scream in agony as his uncovered face got charred while his iron armour quickly turned red hot. All hell broke loose as the fiery attack washed over the leader and onto the ones behind him.

Quentin used his shield to bash the man beside the bandit boss, preventing him from attacking Regis while Khan swung both of his swords at the woman who previously belittled him. The spell weaver yanked his glowing tipped bladestaff out of the scorched shield as his opponent collapsed on the floor, forming another ‘runic ray of fire’ which he aimed at the incoming bandit reinforcements.

As the concentrated torrent of flames burst forward, the wooden shields it reached had little chance of taking it head-on. Several arrows were aimed at the dark elf, only to get blocked by the magic shield that sprung from his vambrace.

“I want one of those too!” Khan yelled over while finishing off the overconfident woman.

“Now’s not the time.” Quentin remarked as he fended off his opponent, using a glowing strike to slash apart the leather armour the man was wearing.

The soldiers atop the Keep’s wall began to rain arrows on the ordinary bandits, catching many of the panicked ones by surprise. Regis hurled spell after spell at the incoming enemies before he had to dodge a dual-axe-wielding man.

“You bloody traitor,” the man growled as he hacked at the spell weaver. “You’re choosing these royal dogs over your people? Us outlanders should stick together and claim what’s rightfully ours!”

“And become a brigand in the process? No thanks.” The dark elf retorted while using his ‘reaper’s strike” skill to cut his opponent’s left side.

The injured outlander screamed in pain as a bit of his life force got torn away to heal the small cuts Regis suffered during the fight. A sudden searing pain forced the spell weaver to look down, seeing an arrow sticking out of his leg inches above his knee. He had no time to even react before the axeman swung at him again, cracking the arcana shield on his arm before the second axe hacked at him.

It lodged itself into the spell weaver’s armour, its lower edge hooking into his right shoulder. Liquid quartz formed on Regis’ left hand as he punched forward, a crystal blade stabbing his surprised opponent in the side of his throat. The bandit dropped his axe, trying to staunch the bleeding gash, but a moment later his eyes dulled as the glowing bladestaff pierced his chest and heart.

“Regis?” Quentin asked while defeating yet another bandit.

“I’m alright!” The short answer arrived as he tore out the axe from his shoulder, healing it with a quick spell.

The bandit army seemed to have lost its confidence as more and more of their people fell along with their trusted leader and his fellow outlanders. The soldiers of Rust-well Keep kept firing arrows to pick down anyone who didn’t have a proper shield, allowing some breathing room for the dark elf to yank out the arrow from his leg before healing it.

“They’re trying to make a run for it.” One of Khan’s companions said while Nate swatted away a bandit with his tower shield.

“We can’t let any of them escape,” Ernest yelled, swinging his sword like a madman. “If they get away, they’ll just regroup elsewhere to terrorise the common folk.”

“You heard the man,” Khan said with a vicious grin. “No quarters!”

“Looks like some things never change.” Quentin sighed as he followed the swirling death machine of a youth.

Regis kept on stabbing and swinging with his bladestaff, deflecting an attack from time to time. After a couple of minutes, it felt less like a battle and more like a one-sided slaughter. When the last of the running bandits took an arrow to the back, Ernest raised his sword victoriously, the soldiers of the keep cheering along with him.

“There’s nothing to cheer for here.” The spell weaver sighed while Quentin just nodded with a morose expression.

“They chose their path just like the rest of us.”

“They tried to kill us and failed,” Khan joined into the conversation. “Now they’re dead and we get to loot them. Celine even showed us how to recycle the corpses properly. Can you believe that some other dimension creature is willing to give you power-ups for them?”

“Yeah.” The paladin nodded nonchalantly.

“You already knew that, didn’t you?”

“We’ve been doing it since we left Hunor.”

“Damn. How far ahead of us are you?”

“Half of the team is tier two and the rest of it is at its doorstep.” Regis noted as he unceremoniously began to strip everything of value.