The Dreamer's POV

[01 Months: 10 Days: 12 Hours]

After agreeing to give me the Quest, Benard ended up discussing with me about other affairs, and I also had to take care of a few other things in Terance before finally leaving for the Quest location

Quite a bit of time had passed, and it was already night. but I didn't consider myself late or behind schedule in the slightest.

As I stood at the edge of the dense forest, concealed by the shadows cast by the looming trees, my senses sharpened.

I peered through the veil of leaves, my gaze locked onto the campsite below. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over the clearing, where the enemy camp was set up.

My heart pounded in my chest, a rhythmic drumbeat echoing in the stillness of the night.

Each breath I took was measured, every movement deliberate. I wore a mask, a cold and unfeeling facade that concealed the storm of emotions swirling within me.

It was a mask I had become adept at donning, a shield against the darkness that surrounded me.

'This night… I feel like releasing so much stress.'

The enemy camp was a sight to behold, a testament to their strength and organization.

Tents were pitched in a precise formation, their banners fluttering in the breeze, bearing an insignia I didn't recognize. The men and women around the campfire appeared strong and confident, their armor gleaming in the firelight.

These were far beyond ordinary bandits; they were a formidable force.

I couldn't help but wonder why they had chosen to camp in the Lyma Region specifically.

'This place is farthest from the Royal Capital, and it seems they're terrorists, so they should be as close to their target as possible.'

It was as if they targeted this place specifically.

The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place in my mind. The turmoil in the Dungeon City, the pressure on the Lyma Family, and now this rogue force—everything was most definitely connected.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. I couldn't afford to hesitate, to second-guess my actions. I had a mission to accomplish, and the safety of the Lyma Region depended on it.

With a silent step, I descended from the shadows of the forest, my movements fluid and soundless. My mask concealed my face, but it also hid my emotions—the uncertainty, the anger, the determination that swirled within me.

I approached the camp, my presence masked by the night. The sentries stood guard, oblivious to the danger that lurked in their midst. I moved with the precision of a predator, each step taking me closer to my quarry.

As I drew near, my senses heightened, picking up on the hushed conversations of the enemy soldiers. They spoke of their intentions, their plans to wreak havoc on the land, and their allegiance to a shadowy figure I couldn't yet identify.

I crouched low, hidden in the cover of darkness, my hand poised on the hilt of a concealed dagger. The enemy camp was a beehive of activity, the tension in the air palpable.

And then, the moment arrived—a moment when the sentries shifted positions, leaving a gap in their vigilance. It was all I needed. With a swift and silent movement, I struck.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

~SWISH~

One by one, they fell, their cries muffled by my gloved hand, their bodies sinking into the shadows. I moved with a cold and calculated efficiency, my mind focused solely on the task at hand.

The enemy camp was thrown into chaos, confusion rippling through their ranks. But they were no match for the shadow that moved among them, striking with deadly precision.

In a matter of minutes, the first wave of the threat had been neutralized.

As I stood amidst the fallen, the mask that had concealed my emotions slipped away. I felt a mixture of relief and grim satisfaction.

The immediate danger had been averted, but the questions that lingered in my mind remained unanswered.

With the first wave of the enemies defeated, I slipped back into the shadows, my steps carrying me away from the camp and deeper into the night.

'The scouts aren't back yet, and it seems their leader is with them.'

They were the prime targets.

*****

The moon hung low on the horizon, casting an eerie silver glow over the clearing as the enemy scouts returned to their camp.

I crouched in the shadows, my senses heightened, my heart beating in tandem with the footsteps of my approaching adversaries.

Among them was their leader, a formidable figure with an aura of authority that marked him as the linchpin of their operation.

'I guess I could easily get rid of them, but…'

This was a god opportunity to see what these people were capable of.

They were Royal Knights, weren't they?

As the scouts entered the camp, I watched, my eyes narrowing as they exchanged hushed words with their comrades.

They spoke of their findings, their reconnaissance mission revealing the presence of hidden dangers and an enigmatic figure lurking in the shadows—a figure they didn't yet realize was me.

The leader of the scouts, a stocky and seasoned warrior, stepped forward, his eyes scanning the camp with an air of confidence.

They all seemed surprised to see their deserted camp, but much to my surprise, they remained calm.

'Impressive. They were trained well.'

They appeared to be starting their investigation, but it was at this point that I decided to stop spectating.

It was time for me to make my presence known, to confront this threat head-on.

I moved with a grace and precision that defied my enigmatic appearance. My hand grasped the hilt of my sword, the blade glinting ominously in the moonlight. The mask I wore concealed my emotions, but my resolve burned like a flame within me.

With a fluid motion, I emerged from the shadows, my cloak billowing around me like a wraith. The enemy scouts turned, their eyes widening in mild surprise as they registered my presence.

"Is he the one who did this?" I heard voices from them echo.

I wasted no time. My body moved with the speed and power of a seasoned warrior. My sword slashed through the air, and I engaged them in combat.

They were skilled practitioners of the [Imperial Martial Arts], their movements precise and deadly.

'It's why I wanted to fight them. However…'

In the end, they were no match for my base abilities.

My blade danced with lethal grace, parrying their strikes and delivering punishing counterattacks.

My footwork was a symphony of agility and precision, allowing me to evade their attacks with ease. The battle was a blur of flashing steel and whirling bodies, each move calculated for maximum efficiency.

One by one, the enemy scouts fell before my onslaught. Their ranks thinned, and panic rippled through their ranks.

A few among them tried using Magic, but I was too fast for them to complete their spells on time.

"Guark!"

"Uarrggh!"

"Puack!"

One after the other, they fell in death, and their previously composed demeanor shattered in time.

The only one who remained unshaken was their leader.

As the dust settled, it was only him and me that were left.

Surrounded by a sea of a few dozen bodies, we faced each other.

'I saved the best for last.' A smile formed on my face as I stared at him.

The moonlight cast long shadows that danced around us as we maintained silence.

His eyes bore into mine, a steely resolve etched upon his face.

He too was a practitioner of [Imperial Martial Arts], and his skill was evident in the way he held his stance.

A golden-like fiery energy danced all over his body, and his blade had flickers of golden flames on it.

He was definitely more skilled than the others.

But I could see the weariness in his eyes, the doubt that had crept in as he witnessed his comrades fall.

With a final battle cry, he rushed at me and we clashed in a flurry of blows and strikes.

Our swords clashed with a resounding clang, the sound echoing through the clearing like a thunderclap.

The battle was fierce and unrelenting. Each strike was a test of skill and endurance, and while I could not even feel the weight of our clash bearing down on me, it seemed like the opposite for him.

He struggled to parry, evade, or block my strikes. I could tell he was pushing himself past his limits.

It just wasn't enough.

'How about this one?' With a swift and calculated movement, I seized an opportunity and delivered a powerful strike that sent his sword flying from his grasp.

He stumbled backward, his chest heaving with exertion.

I stood before him, my sword at the ready, my mask concealing my emotions. The moonlight bathed us in its silvery embrace, casting long shadows that seemed to dance with anticipation.

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, there was a shared understanding—a recognition of the battle we had fought.

He and I both acknowledged I was stronger.

"It's over," I said, my voice low and steady.

He nodded, a hint of respect in his eyes. "You're a formidable opponent. Who are you?"

I considered his question for a moment, and then smiled at him.

"Dead men have no need for names."