Adrian observed the scene below, the young knight's defiant stand against the hulking bandit leader. The decision was made. He couldn't risk revealing his human identity too broadly, nor could he unleash Nyxal's true, overwhelming power. He needed a cover, something to explain his sudden, impossible efficiency. His eyes fell upon a peculiar, dark shadow at the base of the mighty oak.
With a thought, Adrian focused a minute amount of Nyxal's primordial energy. Not to attack, but to manipulate the environment. He pulled on the raw essence of shadows, twisting them, drawing them around him. From the deeper recesses of his consciousness, a memory surfaced – the imposing, fear-inducing image of a Shadow Fiend, a creature of nightmare from Aethelgard's deepest dungeons. He wove the shadows into a tangible form, shaping them into a black, eerie cloak that billowed silently around him, and a dark, featureless mask resembling a demonic visage.
His own presence, usually a beacon of hidden power, now seemed to deepen, to become cold and foreboding. He was no longer Adrian, nor fully Nyxal; he was an anonymous, terrifying force. A perfect cover.
Below, the Bandit Leader let out a guttural roar, raising his greataxe for the killing blow on the young knight. Just as the axe began its descent, a silent, dark blur dropped from the ancient oak. Adrian landed soundlessly behind a bandit, his form a wraith-like silhouette.
"What was that?!" a bandit shrieked, as his comrade simply slumped to the ground, a silent, dark wound appearing in his back.
Adrian didn't answer. He moved like a dark phantom. Two more bandits, distracted by the sudden death, turned. Before they could react, his longsword, now imbued with a faint, chilling aura that seemed to drain the very color from the air around it, flashed. One bandit's head lolled unnaturally, the other clutched his chest before falling. No cries of pain, just the sickening thud of bodies. He was a dark reaper, appearing and disappearing in the chaos, each strike terrifyingly precise, impossibly swift.
"What in the blazes?!" the Bandit Leader bellowed, his eyes darting wildly. "Where are they coming from?! What is this sorcery?!"
The knights, stunned by the sudden, brutal efficiency, momentarily froze.
"Lady Seraphina, stay close!" the younger knight managed, his voice trembling as much from awe as fear. "What... what is that?"
Lady Seraphina, her eyes wide, could only stare at the shadowy figure that moved like a ghost. "I... I don't know. But it's helping us!"
Adrian continued his devastating advance. He engaged two bandits at once, his sword a dark arc, parrying one's clumsy swing with his left hand, and with his right, striking the other through the heart. He spun, his eerie cloak billowing, and then moved towards a cluster of archers attempting to gain an advantage. He was among them before they could nock an arrow, their surprised gasps turning into gurgles as his blade found its mark. The terror was palpable among the bandits now. Their numbers, once overwhelming, seemed to shrink before this silent, lethal force.
One bandit, a burly brute with a scarred face, turned to face Adrian. Their eyes met through the dark, featureless mask. The bandit's bravado evaporated, replaced by raw, visceral fear. He saw nothing but a terrifying, cold void in Adrian's masked gaze, a sense of infinite, ancient power.
He screamed, dropping his weapon and trying to flee, but Adrian was already there, a silent shadow. His blade, almost casually, severed the bandit's Achilles tendons, sending him sprawling, before a quick, merciful strike ended his terror.
"Hold your ground, you cowards!" the Bandit Leader roared, trying to rally his crumbling forces. He lunged at the young knight, desperate to seize a hostage. "Don't let this... thing... scare you!"
Adrian moved with impossible speed, appearing between the Bandit Leader and the knight. The greataxe, mid-swing, was met by Adrian's longsword. The clang echoed through the clearing, the sheer force of the blow rattling Adrian's disguised form, but he held firm. The Bandit Leader recoiled, his eyes wide.
"Who are you?! What are you?!" the Bandit Leader snarled, his voice a mix of fury and dawning dread. "You're no ordinary adventurer! No man moves like that! Show yourself, demon!"
Adrian tilted his masked head, the movement unnervingly silent. "I am merely a shadow seeking to set things right." His voice, though still human in cadence, was deeper, imbued with a cold authority that seemed to drain the very warmth from the air. "And you, 'bandit,' are meddling with forces far beyond your comprehension."
"Meddling?!" the Bandit Leader scoffed, though he kept his distance now. "We're taking what's ours! Lady Seraphina here carries documents of immense value! The nobles of Eldoria are ripe for the taking! A kingdom divided is easy prey!" He gestured wildly. "You fight for these pampered fools? For a kingdom that's crumbling from within?"
"I fight for order," Adrian replied, his sword humming faintly. "And for those who cannot fight for themselves." He gestured subtly to the dwindling number of bandits, many now fleeing in blind panic, others lying lifeless. "Your numbers dwindle. Your cause is lost."
"Lost?!" the Bandit Leader roared, desperation entering his voice. "I am Kaelen 'The Butcher'! No one defeats me! This is merely a setback! Why interfere? What is your gain in protecting these… these weaklings?" He gestured contemptuously at Lady Seraphina and the remaining, stunned knights. "Someone of your obvious power could take this woman and her secrets for yourself! Rule this forest! Why pledge yourself to their doomed kingdom?"
Lady Seraphina, though still pale, gathered her courage. "My secrets are the kingdom's safety! Kaelen, you seek to plunge Eldoria into civil war for coin!"
Adrian's masked gaze fixed on Kaelen. "I fight for more than coin. I fight to prevent the kind of chaos you sow." He thought of the cult, of Aerthos, of the Elder Gods. Kaelen was a symptom of the larger rot. "Your actions here are but a single drop in an ocean of instability. You provide the very conditions that allow true darkness to flourish."
Kaelen roared, a final, desperate surge of fury. "Then face me, ghost! Show me what true darkness you are!" He charged, his greataxe swinging in a wide, desperate arc, aiming for Adrian's masked head.
Adrian met the charge. He didn't dodge. Instead, he raised his longsword, blocking the greataxe with a thunderous clang. The impact should have shattered his arm, but Nyxal's latent strength held firm. With a powerful twist, Adrian disarmed Kaelen, sending the greataxe spinning away to embed itself in a tree. Before Kaelen could even react, Adrian's sword was at his throat.
"Tell me," Adrian's voice was a low growl, "who hired you? Who wants Lady Seraphina and her documents so badly?"
Kaelen's eyes, now devoid of bravado, widened in terror. "I... I don't know their names! Only a go-between! A cloaked figure, always met at the Crossroads Tavern, whispered of a lord... Lord Valerius's man... he wanted the documents! To destabilize... to create chaos... for a new order..." He choked, fear overriding his defiance.
"Lord Valerius," Adrian repeated, the name echoing in his mind. Jana had mentioned fractious lords. This was a significant piece of information. "Very well."
With a final, swift movement, Adrian ended Kaelen's life. The Bandit Leader fell, silent and still. Adrian turned to face the remaining bandits. They had stopped fighting the knights, their faces contorted in pure, unadulterated fear at the sight of their leader's swift demise. They dropped their weapons, falling to their knees, begging for mercy.
Adrian surveyed the clearing. All the bandits lay dead, save for these terrified few. The royal knights, though battered and bruised, were still standing, staring at him, their faces a mixture of gratitude and utter bewilderment. He had dealt with the immediate threat. He had his information. Now, to make his exit.