[i][b]Still among the roads towards the Longfort[/b][/i]

The sun-baked earth crumbled to the feet of the combatants. The young man was at the ready with his broadsword clenched in hand challenging the eight bandits in front of him. The dead wind felt arid and the youngster's confidence began to raw sweat drops from the bandit's complexion as if nervous. It was ridiculous, there were eight of them and they felt as though they couldn't do jack against him. One of them shook their head. "There's eight of us and one of him! What are you waiting for? Slaughter'em!!"

The bandits charged at him with sloppy and an uncoordinated formation-- but their zeal sure toppled a bit of the youngster's confidence to see them running with axes at the ready. His voice softened, as if whispering to his side. "Fyra...! Hurry!" He expected her to suddenly appear and ambush the first few bandits with her magic.