Chapter 12 – The Bait
The morning mist clung to the forest road, shrouding the wagons in a veil of silver. Wooden wheels creaked, horses snorted, and guards in patched cloaks walked beside the caravan as though they were nothing more than weary merchant escorts.
To any watching eyes, it was a tempting sight.
Two wagons laden with crates, a handful of guards, and a banner bearing the Goldbear family crest fluttering weakly in the wind. A small caravan, ripe for plunder.
Which was exactly the point.
Hidden beneath the tarps of the wagons were not bolts of cloth or barrels of wine, but enchanted crossbows, shields, and spears, all disguised with glamour charms. And within the silver ring on Glic's hand, a chorus of spell-infused frogs croaked impatiently, eager for release.
Seated at the front of the lead wagon, Glic wore the simple robes of a merchant, his golden hair tied back, his expression that of a nervous noble dabbling in trade. But beneath the disguise, his eyes scanned the treeline with sharp intent.
The System's pulse echoed in his mind.
> [Quest Active: Eliminate the Crimson Blade Bandits.]
Objective: Survive ambush. Neutralize leader Dika.
Condition: Preserve secrecy of Host's true identity.
Glic smirked faintly. Ambush, is it? Let them come. I have a surprise of my own.
The Goldbear guards played their parts well. Armor that shimmered with Blade Ward enchantments was concealed beneath rough traveling cloaks. Crossbows loaded with fire and acid bolts rested under wagon seats, their glow hidden.
To an untrained eye, they were nothing but weary men-at-arms.
But Glic had drilled them mercilessly the past week. Every man knew the signal, every man knew his place. When the bandits struck, the caravan would transform from prey into predator.
And the frogs… oh, the frogs would feast.
The forest thickened as they traveled deeper into Fae Wood. The road narrowed, roots cracking through the cobblestones. Mist clung heavier here, muffling sound.
Glic kept his posture calm, though his senses strained. He could feel it—the prickle of eyes in the dark, the faint scrape of metal against leather.
The Crimson Blade Bandits were near.
His steward, riding beside him, leaned closer. "My lord, are you certain of this plan? If they see through the ruse—"
"They won't," Glic interrupted softly. His lips curved faintly. "Bandits see what they wish to see: coin, prey, blood. They will not look deeper until it is too late."
The steward swallowed but said no more.
From the cover of the trees, a dozen figures crouched, their armor patched with crimson streaks. Eyes gleamed with hunger as they studied the wagons rolling below.
"Goldbear crest," one whispered. "Merchants, lightly guarded. Easy pickings."
Another grinned, licking his lips. "And the boss wanted a message. Hanging their corpses will do nicely."
From behind them, a deep voice growled.
"Wait."
The men stiffened as Dika stepped forward, towering above them, his crimson blade slung across his back. His yellow eyes narrowed as he studied the caravan.
Something about it itched at him. Too neat. Too calm.
But then again… arrogance was common among minor nobles. Perhaps this Viscount truly thought his banner alone would protect him.
Dika's tusked grin spread.
"Doesn't matter. Kill them. Burn the wagons. Leave one survivor to crawl back and spread the tale."
The bandits grinned savagely, tightening their grips on weapons.
The caravan rolled into a natural choke point: a narrow stretch of road hemmed by steep embankments and looming trees.
The perfect place for an ambush.
Glic's heart thudded, but his expression remained calm as he guided the reins. His fingers brushed against the Divine Ring Holding of Beasts, feeling the croaking presence within.
Come, Dika. Take the bait.
The forest grew silent. No birdsong. No rustle of beasts. Only the creak of wheels and the faint breath of mist.
Then—
"NOW!"
Bandits erupted from the treeline, crimson-painted blades flashing, crossbows raised. Arrows rained down from above, while a dozen more surged from the undergrowth with bloodthirsty cries.
The caravan guards feigned panic, stumbling back, raising their cloaks in false terror.
Glic's lips curled into a predator's smile.
The System chimed.
> [Enemy Hostiles Detected: Crimson Blade Bandits.]
Ambush Initiated.
Host advantage: Prepared counterstrike.
The trap was set.
And soon, the hunters would learn what it meant to become prey.