Rayder's eyes locked onto a flock of sheep being sold by a weathered father and his son. He didn't know a thing about market prices, nor did he care—his goal was simple: to feed his three dragons. As soon as the pair named their price, Rayder nodded without hesitation.Their eyes lit up at his lack of bargaining. They had expected a long haggle, but instead, this "noble" customer handed over five gold dragons without question. In their excitement, they practically worshipped him, bowing and scrambling to help. As a gesture of goodwill—or perhaps sheer gratitude—they gifted him two sturdy long whips, each with thick, well-woven handles and tips as tough as leather armor.Rayder felt the weight of the whip in his hand, gave it a few experimental flicks, and listened to the crisp snap echo through the air. Satisfied, he took control of the flock—over a hundred plump sheep—and herded them out of the bustling city.He moved toward the familiar dense forest where the dragons had previously descended. The plan was simple: bring food to the dragons and keep them satisfied for a while. For once, everything seemed to be going smoothly.As he entered the forest, the sounds of the city faded behind him. Birds chirped overhead, and the scent of pine resin filled the air. The tension in his shoulders began to ease. But the deeper he went, the quieter it became. The birds stopped singing. The wind stilled. Shadows stretched long across the forest floor as the canopy thickened, dimming the sunlight.Suddenly, everything shifted.Rayder's body slowed unnaturally, like moving through water. His senses dulled, the world grew blurry, and time itself seemed to drag. He stopped in his tracks, blinking hard.That's when he saw them.Dozens of burly men stepped out from behind trees and rocks, completely surrounding him and the nervous flock of sheep. Each one held a weapon—swords, axes, spears—and their eyes burned with violent intent. Their scarred faces and tattered gear revealed what they were: mercenaries or, more likely, bandits.Rayder's heart sank.They had been following him all along. From the market, through the city gates, and into the forest. He hadn't noticed a thing. The realization burned—how could he be so careless?His fingers tightened around the whip. He forced himself to stay calm, though cold sweat trickled down his spine. He scanned the faces of his ambushers, noting their stances, weapons, and the narrowing circle around him.He slowly unfastened the heavy shield from his back and drew the long sword at his side. His knuckles whitened as he gripped them tightly.No retreat. No surrender.The bandits hesitated for a moment. Despite his ragged clothing and youthful face, they remembered the scene at the tavern. One of them had watched as Rayder casually lifted a heavy backpack—an act requiring monstrous strength. Now, none of them dared to underestimate him.Their leader stepped forward. He was an older man, broad and grizzled, his beard tangled and streaked with gray. His eyes were cold and calculating."Young man!" he barked, his voice hoarse but strong. "Leave the sheep, the gold, and your weapons. Walk away, and we'll let you live."Rayder raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a faint smirk."You expect me to give up everything… and just trust you to let me go?" he replied coolly. "If I give up my weapons, how will I defend myself if you change your mind?"The old man's face darkened. His eyes narrowed, and a sneer twisted his lips."Cocky brat," he growled. "Don't test us. Obey—or we'll carve you up right here."The tension in the air thickened, almost suffocating.Rayder studied them again. Their eyes gleamed with greed and murder. There was no way they planned to let him leave alive. Their demand was just a distraction—a ploy to make him lower his guard.He noted how they had corralled the sheep to trap him in the center. Any movement would be hindered by the terrified animals. It was a clever tactic. The chaotic mass of panicked livestock would make it nearly impossible to dodge or break through.He glanced around for signs of archers or crossbows—none. That was something, at least. He wouldn't have to worry about being shot from afar.Internally, he activated the System's medical repair function, setting it to automatic mode. Any injuries sustained in the upcoming battle would be instantly treated. Still, he preferred not to get injured at all.His gaze locked on the old leader again.Take out the head, and the body falls.Rayder made his decision. He had no time to wait. Surprise and speed were his best weapons now.With a sudden roar, he lunged forward.The sheep bleated in panic, scattering in all directions. Rayder crashed through them, shoving aside the fat animals with his shoulder, forging a narrow path straight toward the bandit leader.His charge was fast—inhumanly fast.The old man barely had time to register the movement before Rayder was upon him.Rayder's sword arced through the air with deadly precision. The bandit leader raised his weapon in defense, but he was far too slow. The blade cut deep, and the old man screamed, staggering backward.Chaos exploded.The surrounding bandits shouted in alarm. Some turned to help their leader, others hesitated, confused by the sudden assault.Rayder didn't stop.He spun, shield raised, parrying a thrust from a nearby attacker and slamming the edge of his shield into the man's face. Blood sprayed as the bandit crumpled.Another came from the side. Rayder ducked the swing and drove his sword into the attacker's gut, twisting before yanking it free.Three down.Still, there were dozens.The forest erupted with the sounds of steel clashing, men shouting, sheep fleeing, and the crack of whips and weapons. Rayder moved like a phantom, weaving through the chaos, each movement deliberate, efficient, brutal.His shield blocked, his sword struck, and when needed, he used the whip to lash at distant enemies, forcing them to retreat.Despite his strength, the numbers were against him.One managed to stab him in the side.System Repair Activated.Pain flared for a moment, but the wound closed almost instantly, leaving only a faint burn. Rayder gritted his teeth and countered with a savage blow, cutting the attacker down.The enemy began to falter. Fear crept into their eyes. This wasn't a boy. This was a beast.Another charged with a battle axe. Rayder sidestepped and slammed his shield into the attacker's throat, crushing it.Blood soaked the forest floor. Sheep had scattered in all directions, some impaled in the chaos, others long gone.Rayder stood in the center of it all, his chest heaving, clothes torn, sword dripping with blood. Around him lay at least a dozen fallen men.The rest hesitated.He raised his sword, eyes blazing with fury. "Come on, then! Is that all?"The surviving bandits looked at each other. Their leader was dying, the ambush had failed, and their "easy target" had turned out to be a walking nightmare.They fled.Without a word, they vanished into the trees, their morale shattered.Rayder didn't chase them.He simply stood there, blood-splattered and silent, watching as they disappeared. The wind rustled through the trees again, and the chirping of birds slowly returned to the forest.His shoulders sagged. The adrenaline began to fade.The System pinged softly in his mind:[Threat eliminated. Medical recovery complete.]Rayder took a long breath.He had survived.Again.He sheathed his sword, wiped the blood from his face, and walked back toward the area where a few sheep remained. Most had run off, but a dozen or so stayed nearby, too panicked to go far.Enough to feed the dragons for a few more days.He gathered them again, the whip snapping through the air, and began herding them back toward the hidden clearing.His mind, though calm, remained wary. This ambush wouldn't be the last. .News of him—and the dragons—was spreading.And many more enemies would come.But for now, he had survived another battle.And he would be ready for the next.---
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