The path winds on, stretching through terrain that is becoming less barren. From time to time, a tree appears, and a few bushes are visible in areas a bit farther from the road. But even so, they’re still in a region mostly made up of rocky hills.
Since leaving the Path of Trials, they had stuck to this route leading them north, maintaining their original plan before this detour.
He’s still thinking about what happened, but without reaching any new conclusions—he’s stuck in a mental loop. But even knowing that, he can’t stop analyzing and re-analyzing the recent events. After all, it’s not like there’s anything in the scenery to distract him.
So he follows the trail, climbing up the current hill to its summit. A short distance ahead of him, Grumpy and Blondie lead the way, seemingly talking to each other. They were probably also trying to make sense of what they had seen. Not that he particularly cares about their opinions.
At the top of the hill, the two stop, their bodies showing a tension they hadn’t had before. Leaving him somewhat intrigued. Then, after exchanging a silent glance, Blondie turns back and exclaims with some alarm, “Nero! Quick, you’ll want to see this!”
Faced with such a lovely invitation, he can only think, “Wonderful, just wonderful. I highly doubt that whatever they want to show me is something I’ll actually want to see.”
Even so, he quickens his pace until he’s beside the two idiots. From this position, he can see the road continuing below. A fair distance ahead, it reaches a point where on one side there’s a steep hill apparently covered in rocks, making it hard or even impossible to cross. On the other side, there appears to be a ravine—or at least a sudden drop—though it’s hard to make out the details from here.
But the best way to describe the site: the perfect place for an ambush. Which is exactly what is happening right now.
By the look of it, some of the rocks from the hill have rolled down into the middle of the road, blocking the way. Just as a caravan was passing through. With the distraction and mobility cut off, a group—who must have been hiding—now attacks the caravan’s weakened rear.
Part of him can even admire the clever plan and its apparently perfect execution. On the other hand, they’re clearly witnessing a bandit attack.
“Nero, what do we do?” he hears Grumpy’s uneasy voice ask.
And isn’t that a beautiful question? What exactly should he do in the face of this?
Intervening could have unpredictable and potentially very unpleasant consequences. From where they are, nothing stops them from simply ignoring what’s happening, finding another route, and avoiding this whole mess.
On the other hand, even from here, he can hear the panicked screams of people under attack. And it’s not like he can pretend someone will call the police to deal with this, as might happen back home.
And perhaps even worse, he can’t really pretend he can’t do anything. Because Nero’s power is certainly more than enough to put an end to this—at least in theory. But, judging by the situation below, that seems almost certain.
A couple of fireballs should be enough to make anyone with a shred of sense lose their will to fight. Of course, if they run into a bunch of stupid people, he might have to escalate to more definitive solutions.
The caravan is in an exposed position, but so are the bandits. The problem would be in the close-combat area—hitting some without harming others will be impossible.
Of course, all this assumes that he acts. Which he doubts is in his best interest. After all, the last time he helped a caravan, he was driven away for being a necromancer.
And although he’s reasonably sure he won’t need to use any necromantic spells this time, the chance of being discovered will be much higher if he interferes. That could lead to far bigger headaches. He can only guess the reaction of those knights he met a few days ago, if they found out about recent necromancer activity on this plateau.
That, and he’s getting really frustrated with all the messes he keeps getting into. All he wants is a peaceful and quiet life!
The irritation makes him put his hands over his face, as if trying not to see what’s happening. But the sound is inescapable. The clash of weapons, the panic of people and animals, and the intimidating aggression of the bandits’ shouting. Leaving him with a decision to make.
For a moment, he’s furious with himself. When the thought occurs to him—that standing here doing nothing is itself a decision, even if it’s not the one he wants to make.
“Look!!” shouts Blondie, snapping him out of it. He removes his hands from his face just in time to see Blondie pointing into the distance.
At the rear of the skirmish, someone has tried to flee—apparently successfully. So, a series of figures are now running in their direction.
“Idiots,” he mutters. What else can he say in the face of such a foolish decision? Even he knows that, at least in the group, they had each other for support. Running off into the middle of nowhere with no proper protection is basically giving themselves over to the mercy of their attackers.
And judging by the group of bandits now giving chase, mercy is not what they’ll find. But the real problem is, judging by the size of the figures closest to them—the first to get away... he has no choice.
“Cover me. Usual tactic. Make sure no one gets close to me. But if it’s the kids, let them through. You two idiots, take care of them,” he instructs as he begins walking down from the top of the hill, hearing the hooves of the mule behind him as they head toward yet another mess.
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