The Devil's Warrior Queen-Chapter 284: Bandits

"Do you know who I am?" Dalen shot at the leader with an air of confidence.

"You’re in our territory, we don’t care who you are, pay the fine for trespassing or we’ll have to take compensation for no fine." The leader growled.

"Get out of my way, or you’ll have to pay instead...with your lives." Dalen warned.

The bandits laughed hysterically, obviously because they overpowered them by numbers. Unfortunately, it would be impossible for him to use his magic to even the odds against them, as the bandits were all closed in on them.

One mistake could lead to Rama getting hurt in the enclosed space, so he refrained from wielding magic at the moment.

"You made your choice pretty boy, get the girl!" The leader ordered with an outcry and before Rama could brace herself for what would transpire next, rough, large hands grabbed her by her arm and neck harshly, making her wince in pain as they dragged her toward the leader, pushing her viciously to him.

Before Dalen could react whatsoever, the sharp, glinting tips of swords, daggers and axes were positioned inches away from his throat, refraining his movement. Dalen’s eyes flared with rage when it narrowed to Rama in the bandit’s grip.

The leader wrapped his strong arm around her waist, squeezing while he leaned to her ear, sniffing her with a suggestive look in his eyes "You smell divine."

She could smell the alcohol in his breath as he whispered into her ear, she squirmed in his hold, trying with futile attempts to push him away, but the bulky man was sturdy.

"Get away from her! She’s not yours to keep you dirty pig!" Dalen roared angrily, his eyes burning red, but the weapons aimed at him abstained his movement.

"The girl is compensation for the fine and there’s nothing you can do, you’re both surrounded." The leader pointed out with a wicked laughter rolling off his chapped lips.

Dalen’s fists clenched, his eyes calculating for an opening, while Rama writhed vigorously, unable to stay another second trapped in the same air as them. The leader yanked her harshly as he leaned to her ear.

"If you’re being nice, you’ll be treated..." He could barely complete his words as Rama suddenly head butt him from behind, crashing the back of her skull against his forehead with brute force that sent him knocked out of his senses as he staggered back, freeing her in the process.

She watched him groan in pain between gritted teeth as he hissed, fortunately it left the other bandits distracted as they averted their attention to their boss.

Dalen’s hand quickly gripped the hilt of his finely crafted sword, his keen eyes scrutinizing the heavy numbers of the bandits enclosed on them.

His stance exuded a quiet confidence, the lines etched on his face mirrored years of honed expertise. With a swift motion, he positioned himself between Rama and the encroaching assailants, his eyes ablaze with determination.

The leader, regaining his composure despite the burning pain ordered them to get the girl.

The bandits, driven by greed and malice, charged towards Dalen with crude weapons in hand. They lunged at him with a cacophony of shouts, their intentions clear, to plunder and harm. Dalen’s movements were fluid, a masterful dance of skill and precision as he parried their strikes effortlessly, each movement calculated, each strike intentional.

His sword sliced through the air in a mesmerizing display of swordsmanship, deflecting the bandits’ attacks with remarkable ease. His feet glided across the floor, dodging strikes and retaliating with swift, controlled counterattacks. Every swing of his blade was purposeful, aiming to maim, also to disarm and deter.

Meanwhile, Rama, though terrified, stood her ground, her eyes fixed on Dalen with unwavering trust as she rushed to hide in an alcove. Her hands trembled slightly, but she found courage in the unwavering determination radiating from Dalen’s stance.

She remained poised in the safe corner, ready to aid Dalen in any way possible. As she watched with fear, she rubbed on the crystal drop necklace they had given her and inwardly called for Aurora, the crystal emitted a dim glow for a split second before it disappeared.

Hoping inwardly Aurora had gotten her message, she decided to wait as the fight continued. She would have helped, but she was unarmed, so she reasoned it was a safer idea to stay hidden in the alcove than put herself in danger and burden Dalen.

As she peeked out of her hiding place to watch Dalen with grave concern etched on her face, she failed to understand why he was refraining from using his magic. It would have helped, but she failed to realize that if he were to use his magic to get rid of the bandits, she might get hurt in the process as only a large amount would be able to help exterminate a large number of the bandits.

The bandits, realizing Dalen’s prowess, adjusted their strategy, attacking relentlessly, attempting to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. However, Dalen remained composed, his focus unwavering, as he skillfully turned defense into offense. He exploited the openings in their chaotic assault, swiftly incapacitating one assailant after another with precise, calculated strikes.

With each fallen bandit, Dalen’s resolve only grew stronger, fueled by the need to protect Rama and overcome the odds stacked against them. His movements were almost poetic, a lethal symphony of steel cutting through the air, a testament to his mastery of the blade.

As the clash continued, the bandits began to falter, their initial confidence waning in the face of Dalen’s unyielding determination. Some almost retreated, recognizing the futility of their endeavor but fear of facing their master’s wrath drove them to stay, while others lay defeated at Dalen’s feet.

Dalen, with heaving breaths and a sense of enthusiasm, turned to Rama, ensuring her safety before averting his attention back on the bandits. Rama’s eyes shimmered with fear as she watched the relentless attack on him.

Fueled by sheer numbers and reckless abandon, they lunged at him with wild swings. Dalen countered their onslaught with fluid strokes, parrying blows and sidestepping attacks with the poise of a seasoned warrior. His strikes were calculated, each swing aimed with deadly accuracy.

However, the bandits’s sheer numerical advantage proved daunting. As more joined the onslaught, Dalen found himself increasingly surrounded. With an innate sense of protective instinct, he maneuvered skillfully, deflecting incoming strikes while maintaining a steadfast defense to shield Rama from their gaze. His determination was palpable, but the odds stacked against him were undeniable.

Amidst the chaotic skirmish, Dalen’s movements were a whirlwind of steel and grace. He fought with a singular goal, to buy time for Rama to escape the imminent danger. His blade, a silver blur in the dimming light, danced in arcs of lethal finesse, each swing aimed at keeping the encircling bandits at bay.

The struggle was intense, the clash of metal against metal resonating through the air. Despite his skill, the relentless assault of the bandits took its toll. A moment of miscalculation allowed a swift adversary to deliver a deep, searing slash across Dalen’s back. Pain surged through him as blood jetted out of the wound, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to yield, his determination unwavering.

Bloodied but undeterred, Dalen fought on. His movements became more strategic, every swing a calculated effort to protect Rama while fending off the relentless attackers. He staggered at times, weakened by the grievous wound, yet his resolve remained unshaken.

As the skirmish wore on, Dalen’s strength waned. The odds had become insurmountable, and with a heavy heart, he knew his efforts to fend off the bandits while protecting Rama were nearing their limits. His breaths came in ragged gasps, but his eyes held an unspoken promise, to ensure Rama’s escape at any cost.

Rama watched in pure horror as one of the bandits took an opening to deliver a deep slash across his back, blood streaming out of the wound to bathe the floor red, he should have been drained of energy or worse, fall unconscious but there he was, still standing and fighting off the bandits, despite the fact that his stance wavered and he was being overpowered.

Beads of sweat mixed with blood streamed down his face as they overpowered him with their numbers, sending hard blows to make him suffer.

He coughed out blood as the leader sent a heavy blow to his midriff making his legs wobble as he staggered back, she was undoubtedly certain she had heard his ribs break and she clutched on invisible pearls as she bit her bottom lip till the metallic tang of blood coated her tongue.

Trembling as she hid in the alcove, desperation mirrored her eyes as she waited every second for Aurora to materialize out of thin air and save them, as she ignored the pricking urge within her to come out of her hiding place and save him.

He was already losing a lot of blood from the laceration in his back, but the bandits leader, with wicked and malicious intent in his eyes, sliced him with his dagger, delivering small cuts to his shoulder blade and his legs, before shoving him down on his knees.

His bloodied face hung low with strands of his silvery grey hair concealing his face while he breathed out weakly, as he wheezed painfully.

Her eyes welled up with tears, unable to bear his suffering anymore, she emerged out of her hiding place as she yelled bitterly "Stop!"

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