"Hundreds… ha… hundreds…" His voice was both amused and horrifying, a predator savoring the fear it elicited.
Manny racked his brain frantically, desperate for a way to appease him.
"T-then… maybe… a-a thousand…?"
Teel's sharp smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. His eyes locked onto Manny with a fierce, unyielding intensity that made the young man's stomach churn.
"If I could create this bandit group by killing a thousand… this country would be crawling with bandits." His voice was low, but it cut through the underground chamber like a blade.
Manny swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat.
Teel leaned forward slightly, the candlelight glinting off the red scar beneath his eye.
"The reason we are the only bandit group in this country…"
He slammed his rocky fist onto the wooden table. Thud! The reverberation rattled the walls, and Manny flinched. Sweat ran down his forehead, cold and clammy.
"…is because the people of Hana were divided in two. Either they follow me… or the king."
The weight of Teel's gaze was unbearable. Manny bowed his head instinctively, voice quivering.
"Y-yes, Boss… whether we follow you… or the king… it's one or the other…"
Teel's presence filled the room like a storm.
"Then listen, Manny."
Slowly, Manny lifted his head. His eyes met Teel's, and it felt as if those piercing eyes could see straight through him, stripping him bare of pretense or weakness.
"Do you think I could abandon those who follow me?"
Fear in Manny's chest began to shift into something heavier—reverence.
His voice trembled, barely audible.
"N-no… that's impossible…"
Teel's mouth curled into a sharp, satisfied smile once more, a predator content with its prey's submission.
"Good. Then never again speak to me with weak words of running away."
The Queen and her warriors rode out of the village, the faint dust of their departure settling on the worn road behind them. The vast plain stretched endlessly ahead, a rolling sea of brown and gold under the midday sun. The wind whispered through the tall grasses, carrying the faint scent of earth and promise of distance yet to cover.
Danjin rode slightly ahead of the column, his gaze flicking back again and again to the Queen. Concern shadowed his features.
"Your Majesty… are you truly alright?" he asked, his voice low, almost swallowed by the wind.
Queen Genie's eyes followed the endless stretch of brown fields before them. She inhaled deeply, the motion slow, deliberate. "I'm fine," she said, her voice calm but tinged with something fragile, unspoken.
Danjin shifted uneasily, his gaze falling to Jade, riding just behind her. Leaning closer, he whispered, urgency edged with hesitation.
"Minister… Why did Her Majesty collapse?"
Jade's eyes remained fixed ahead, unwavering. His focus was not on the deputy commander but on the slender figure of the queen, framed against the horizon. His silence was a shield, a barrier the deputy commander could not breach.
A flicker of frustration crossed Danjin's face. He glanced at Jade, then quickly returned his gaze to the Queen, trying to read her expression. The sun glinted off the brown horse's neck, muscles rippling under smooth, taut skin. Danjin's throat tightened.
'Her Majesty does not wish to answer…'
He hesitated, then spoke again, quieter this time, as if speaking might shatter the fragile calm of the moment.
"Your Majesty… why did you collapse earlier…?"
The words lingered in the warm air, unanswered. Danjin's shoulders slumped slightly, his hands resting lightly on the reins. The silence stretched, weighted, broken only by the rhythmic pounding of hooves on the dry earth and the faint creak of leather and saddle.
Then, at last, the Queen's voice broke through, soft yet unmistakably commanding, carrying over the plain like a ripple through still water.
"It's just that I didn't manage my stamina well. Please don't worry about it."
"Ah… understood, Your Majesty."
Danjin lifted his head reluctantly, a faint trace of worry still etched across his sullen face. He dared not press further.
Jade, following behind the queen, felt a tumult of emotions swirl within him. Her calm, measured response—so ordinary in words—stirred something he could not name. Something subtle had shifted in her demeanor after the courtier had left. He could sense the suppressed emotions beneath her serene exterior, a weight she bore silently.
'Your Majesty… what has happened…'
He wanted desperately to ask, to pierce the veil she wore so gracefully. Yet, even in the grip of his concern, he knew.
'I don't have the right.'
Raindrops fell suddenly on his head, cool and unexpected. Jade's eyes flicked up, and the queen, leading the column, felt the same chill against her forehead. She tilted her face upward, letting the rain touch her skin. The once-clear sky had darkened, clouds gathering like heavy silk draped across the horizon. The soft drizzle quickly became steady, each drop plucking at the quiet of the plain.
"Your Majesty… it's raining," Jade said, his voice carrying both concern and command.
Genie closed her eyes, letting the raindrops trace paths down her face. It was impossible to tell where rain ended and tears began.
"Your Majesty…?"
At Jade's second call, Genie finally pulled the reins. The warriors behind her stopped their horses.
Looking at the clouded sky, Genie said, "We must stop here for today."
As soon as she finished speaking, the gentle rain turned into a heavy downpour.
Whoosh!
"Your Majesty," Jade quickly pulled the reins and moved beside her. "We should take shelter somewhere quickly."
But seeing the queen's face, he stopped the horse.
"Yiaaaah!"
Teel's roar ripped through the forest, sharp and commanding. Before the eyes of countless subordinates, he swung his axe with brutal precision, the steel glinting as it sank into the thick bark of a massive tree. The impact reverberated through the air, echoing like a drumbeat, leaving a deep, jagged notch carved into the trunk.
"Yiaaaah!"
Again, the war cry tore from him. His muscles coiled, arms swinging the axe down in a deadly arc. Screeeech—the sound of splitting wood filled the clearing as the notch deepened, the tree shivering as if it sensed its doom.
Teel raised the axe high above his head, motion fluid and unstoppable, the sunlight glinting off the blade. Then—Screeeech—Thud!
The massive tree toppled, crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar that shook the earth. Dust and splinters flew into the air like smoke, and the bandits behind him collectively exhaled in awe, their mouths agape.
Teel turned, eyes blazing, jaw set. His voice, low and commanding, carried over the clearing, unyielding.
"No matter how mighty a tree may stand, it will fall after a few strikes of the axe," he said, letting each word strike like steel. "Mark my words—right here, right now. We will not run from the Queen. We will live as we always have—free, unbroken, unstoppable!"
He lifted the axe high, sunlight glinting off its edge like a beacon.
"In this same way," he continued, voice sharp and resolute, "we will stand against the Queen!"
The bandits' eyes flickered—fear, doubt, and awe mingling in the depths. Teel's gaze hardened, cold and merciless, piercing each of them in turn.
"Anyone unwilling to walk this path with me," he declared, voice like thunder, "anyone not ready to stake their life on this cause—leave this bandit group now! Step away, if you dare! For those who remain, know this—we live and die by the strength of our will alone!"
Teel's booming voice rolled across the plains, bouncing between the high, rugged mountains that cradled their hideout. The sheer force of it seemed to push the wind back, stirring dust and dry leaves in its wake.
The terrified subordinates exchanged uneasy glances, their courage faltering under the weight of his presence. One man, his body trembling with anxiety, finally turned away. Crunch—the brittle sound of fallen leaves underfoot broke the tense silence.
Slowly, reluctantly, others followed. Footsteps scattered like frightened birds, panic spreading through the ranks. Faces drained of color, eyes wide with fear, they fled the hideout, disappearing into the brush and mist of the mountains.
Teel's gaze remained fixed on the men who lingered. His expression, carved from stone, betrayed nothing—no fear, no doubt, no mercy. The ones who wavered had made their choice. Only those willing to stand would remain.
When the last of the deserters vanished into the distance, half the bandit group remained, their breaths shallow, their hands tight on their weapons. The air crackled with tension, electric and heavy.
Teel raised his arms, voice thundering once more.
"We will protect— to the very end— our territory! Our strength! And our freedom!"
For a moment, silence hung, thick as fog. Then, as if awakened by a shared pulse of loyalty, the remaining subordinates roared in unison, voices raw and fierce:
"Long live the boss!!!"
The mountains echoed back their cry, carrying it far across the plains, a declaration of defiance, unity, and the unbreakable will of Teel and his chosen few.