I stepped out of Tolany, through its westward gate, leaving behind the hum of the city as the quiet of the open road took over. With some distance covered, I withdrew my light armor and donned my cloak over my clothes, finishing my preparation for the journey.

  The air was fresh, carrying the scent of earth and greenery, but my thoughts lingered elsewhere. I’d be without a weapon for a while longer, not that it mattered. With my command over space, steel felt unnecessary for a handful of bandits.

  The mission itself would offer greater insight into how others wielded power, as my only frame of reference was still limited. While I had Silus, the Demon, and Tristan as my initial battle encounters, the hierarchy of the Tier’s appeared consistent, and the typical goblin strength didn’t catch me off guard. Still, subtle differences could exist in the power structure, and those gaps in knowledge could be dangerous.

  As I pressed onward to the west, the landscape opened into a broad path, revealing the distant mountain that served as the last known base for the Vultures. Well on my path, I reflected on the power structure I understood. In my former life, the pinnacle of power I had encountered was a Mystic. These individuals were formidable mages and warriors with abilities that could alter the very nature of battle, yet now I found myself at a new threshold. Prime. This stirred a wave of exhilaration within me.

  The tiers as I had known, spanned from Novice to Mystic, now clearly beyond that, as I had only just uncovered the existence of Prime, each tier indicating a person's mastery over their craft and power. Novices were inexperienced newcomers, whereas Apprentices displayed potential but lacked depth. Journeymen and Adepts exhibited skill, yet they were still refining their talents. Experts and Masters commanded admiration, recognized for their expertise and battlefield success, often earning monikers due to their renown.

  In Tolany, I encountered individuals representing these various tiers. Take Jack Singe, for example; he was an Adept, possibly a practitioner of melee, ranged, or magic; I couldn't discern which, before he settled into his role as an innkeeper. Then there was Bren, an Adept-tier mage in her own right, though I remained uncertain about the specific discipline of magic she practiced.

  Silus and Leon were the only two Experts I had met so far, while Tyus Lark stood as the sole Master-tier, a Master spearman based on the weapon I had seen strapped to his back. All these observations came from my mana sense detecting their respective mana signatures, which directly correlates to the skill tiers in their three primary Passive Skills. These formed the foundation of an individual's power and in turn reflected their prowess.

  Many from my world used [Identify] in power assessments. This skill focused on revealing an individual's level, even gauging that as a measurement of real-life combat experience. It provided a simplistic view, with higher evolutions of the legacy skill giving a more comprehensive insight.

  My current level, combined with my perceived mana signature, would likely suggest an average combat experience, while my previous level of 112 told an entirely different story. A Prime mastery over the Spatial element gave me abilities that even those in higher tiers would find difficult to grasp. This journey had evolved beyond mere missions or quests; it would be immensely beneficial for me to understand Eldon's standing, especially as this had become my new home.

  * * *

  The road spanned a fair distance, and I settled into a rhythm. During my trek, I greeted a large group of merchants seemingly protected by a guard retinue of Apprentice to Journeymen warriors. The warriors didn't hold adventurer badges but rather had another insignia upon their attire. I had yet to make my way to the Mercenary guild in Tolany but I assumed they belonged to them.

  As I approached the caravan, one of the Journeymen, a broad-shouldered man with a short beard and a worn sword at his hip, gave me a quick once-over. His gaze landed on the silver badge pinned to my jacket, and his expression shifted slightly, an acknowledgment of the rank and what it implied.

  “Silver, huh?” he said, adjusting his stance. “You handling the Black Vultures?”

  I nodded. “That’s the plan. Figured I’d deal with them before they make more trouble.”

  A few of the other Journeymen exchanged glances, their interest piqued. The bearded man let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think the Guild would send someone already. Makes sense, though. Those bastards have been laying low lately, picking their targets carefully. Probably know the Guild and the Mercs have been running escort jobs for anyone willing to pay.”

  “They’ve been avoiding these groups?” I asked.

  “For the most part. Haven’t hit anything with proper guards in weeks,” he confirmed. “But solo travelers? Stragglers? They’re still at it. Just enough to stay a problem without kicking a hornet’s nest.”

  “Clever,” I admitted. “Keeps them off the Guild’s priority list while still making coin.”

  The Journeyman grunted. “Yeah, but it also means they’re getting cautious, maybe even planning something bigger. They wouldn’t be holed up in those mountains if they weren’t up to something.”

  “Any idea how many of them there are?” I asked.

  One of the merchants, a wiry man with sharp eyes, spoke up. “Hard to say. They move around a lot, but we’ve heard reports of at least a dozen, maybe more. And their leader, some Adept-tier fighter, has a nasty reputation. The report had his most recent known level at 46.”

  I glanced toward the distant peaks. If they were being selective, then they weren’t desperate. That meant they had resources, their leader had sense, or both.

  The Journeyman studied me for a moment, then gave a nod. “If you’re heading up there, I’d say watch yourself, but something tells me you’ll be fine. Silver-ranks don’t get sent out for nothing.”

  I smirked. “I’ll handle it.”

  We talked a little longer, exchanging what little information they had before the caravan continued on its way. As I strode by the last few of the guard, I felt an [Identify] trigger on me, which was reasonable given that the bystanders likely wanted to gauge my odds of dealing with the issue. I moved on toward the mountains anyway, grateful for the bit of insight the group had provided. If the Black Vultures were choosing their targets carefully, I’d just have to make myself an exception.

  * * *

  The mountain loomed ahead, its jagged ridges casting long shadows as I veered off the main road. Sticking to open paths wasn’t an option. Not when I was tracking a group that preyed on easy targets. My best approach was to move unseen.

  I trekked around the mountain spotting a vantage point. With barely a thought, space folded around me, and I reappeared atop a rocky outcrop overlooking the terrain below. From here, I scanned the mountainside, stretching my Mana Sense outward. At a Prime skill tier, this was effortless for me, as it was usually Experts who started to harness this ability, though in a much diminished form.

  It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. Three distinct signatures, all Adept-tier, pulsing from the other side of the mountain. A solid lead.

  Teleporting between vantage points, I closed in, finally landing on a ridge overlooking a hidden base nestled in a hollow. The area was well-structured, with man-made outposts dotting the perimeter. More than just a gathering of common highwaymen. This was an operation.

  The setup suggested a larger force, but from what I could see, their numbers seemed thin. I could make out the Adept mana signatures, one manning the outpost off on the north side of the base, the other two gathered around the center of the base. I had enough information to strike, but rushing in without accounting for the full picture wasn’t an option. I also hadn't located the heirloom I needed to retrieve. Instead, I settled in to observe.

  An hour later, two figures emerged from a side path, passing beneath my vantage point. One had a scar running down his face, the other’s black hair hung in tangled disarray. Their voices carried in the still air.

  “Think the boss is gonna bring in more work from this noble?” The scarred one asked.

  “Doubt it,” the other scoffed. “This one was risky enough. We got what we came for, and the noble got his hands clean. Doesn’t mean he’ll wanna keep playing.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Scarface spat off to the side. “Tch. If we’re lucky, they’ll at least keep the coin coming.”

  I narrowed my eyes. A noble had orchestrated the theft. That complicated things, just not for me. My job was simple: eliminate the bandits, recover the heirloom. Whatever dealings the noble had with them weren’t my concern. I was done serving royalty, done with their ambitions and politics.

  Still, I made a note of it. Information had value, even if I didn’t plan to use it.

  “Boss and the others should be back this afternoon,” Disheveled Hair continued. “Once they return, we’ll split the spoils and figure out what’s next.”

  Good. That meant I had time. I wasn’t interested in picking them off one by one. I wanted all of them in one place. The duo continued passed, rejoining the collection gathered further in the base. I eased back, letting the shadows of the ridge conceal me. For now, I would wait.

  * * *

  Two hours crawled by, tension stretching thin as I remained perched on the ridge, watching the camp below. The steady hum of activity shifted the moment a shout rang out.

  “Boss is back!”

  I swept my Mana Sense through the area again, locking onto a new signature. It was slightly stronger than the Adepts I had previously marked. At the base’s entrance, the gates creaked open, revealing the returning group.

  The stronger signature belonged to the individual that strode in, flanked by several Adepts I had sensed along him. One of them carried an ornate spear, its polished surface catching the light even from this distance.

  The camp bustled with renewed energy, reports exchanged in hurried tones as the bandits regrouped. The leader raised a hand, silencing the chatter before addressing them.

  “Listen up! Progress has been slow with our noble friend,” his voice was firm, commanding. “He wants more assurances before he continues this partnership.”

  That was all I needed to hear. No more waiting.

  In a blink, I shifted space and materialized just feet from their leader, hands resting casually at my sides as I glanced at the ornate spear.

  “So, this what you stole?” My tone was conversational, though the weight of my presence crashed into them like a hammer.

  The reaction was instant. The Adepts surrounding me jolted back, eyes widening in shock. Hands scrambled for weapons, steel clearing scabbards in a disorganized clatter. A few instinctively widened their stance, trying to form a rough perimeter, but the suddenness of my arrival threw off their cohesion.

  The leader’s expression darkened as he took a slow step forward, studying me. His suspicion was on display. Someone appearing in their midst without warning was no small feat.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, voice edged with caution. “How did you get in here?”

  I didn’t answer immediately, shifting my gaze between the gathered bandits. Their movements were steady now, controlled. They weren’t panicked fools. They were falling into formation, tightening their encirclement with every second I let pass.

  My gaze flicked back to the spear. The carvings along its shaft hinted at its craftsmanship and significance.

  A slow smirk tugged at my lips. They were treating this like a battle. Good. That made things simple.

  "Koa Destus. Adventurer's Guild." I answered. "I came from up there. "I pointed at the ridge I had teleported from. To no surprise at all, the bandits kept at ready, focused on my position. A grade above typical misfits.

  I felt an [Identify] trigger with me as the mark. The nearest Adept to the leader, positioned on his right shoulder, was the one responsible. He spoke his evaluation, having measured my Mana Signature as well.

  "Boss. The fool is a level 27. Adept tier, magic practitioner of some sort."

  A small smirk drew on the leader's face. "27 huh? Looks like you've got some minor combat experience under you. A Silver Rank to boot. But kid… this isn't going to end how you think."

  The formation continued to tighten on my position. Weapons flaring as skills began to channel mana. "And if you're supposed to be the bait for the rest of your party, whatever luck got you into my base just ran out." He kept his gaze on me raising his voice. "Because like you said, the heirloom is right here and now we've even got a hostage to add to the ransom! Fellas don't be gentle!"

  The first bandit, an Adept, surged forward, faster than the rest, his blade wreathed in flickering mana. He swung in a brutal arc, the energy crackling off the edge like a blade of its own. I shifted, letting the attack graze past as I reached out, fingers brushing against the charged steel. A pulse of my own mana disrupted his flow. His enhancement flickered and died just as I wrenched his arm downward, slamming his own weapon into the dirt.

  He barely had time to register the counter before I vanished.

  I reappeared behind a Journeyman mage in the midst of casting, his fingers tracing the final runes of a [Fireball]. Before he could complete the incantation, I struck. My hand clamped onto the back of his skull, my mana surging in a targeted pulse. His own magic turned against him and the [Fireball] imploded in his hands with a concussive blast, sending him sprawling into two others nearby.

  Another teleport carried me to the opposite side of the camp, forcing them to scramble. They struggled to track me, their movements sluggish against the precision of my own.

  "That’s a [Teleport]!" One of the bandits shouted in panic. "He's an Expert! Why would they send an Expert after us?!"

  The leader’s voice cut through the chaos. “He’s only level 27, and he’s a mage. Circle in, get your hands on him, and he’ll break!”

  Wrong.

  A blade lunged for my back. I twisted, stepping into a spatial fold, reemerging just above my attacker. I drove my foot onto the back of his head, my weight slamming him head-first into the ground, his legs lifting out from under him.

  An archer drew and released a [Triple Shot], each arrow crackling with magic as they tore through the air toward me. I opened a rift in front of me, space bending sharply as the arrows disappeared into the seam. A moment later, they burst free in reverse, redirected toward the archer who had fired them. Cries of pain followed as their own projectiles found their marks.

  The leader’s eyes narrowed. “Enough,” he growled, stepping forward at last.

  I turned to face him, rolling my shoulders. “Took you long enough.”

  His grip tightened around the ornate spear, the stolen heirloom. Power thrummed along its length, the engravings pulsing with latent energy. This was the real fight.

  "Now, that spear doesn’t belong to you." I began, "and I’m going to need that back. Preferrab—"

  The Bandit Leader lunged mid-sentence, cutting off my words with a vicious spear thrust. A pulse of mana erupted from the weapon’s tip, blasting toward me in a crackling wave. I was already moving. A rift barrier shimmered into place at an angle, catching the attack and bending space itself to redirect the energy. The blast veered into the charging bandits on my right, their bodies flung back like ragdolls as they crumpled against the rocky ground.

  The leader took another step, his spear pulsing brighter. He wrenched back his arm, channeling more power. The weapon hummed, its engravings igniting in golden light before he drove it forward again. This time, the mana burst was wider, a concussive force meant to overwhelm my defense entirely.

  I held my ground. My barrier absorbed the blast, but before I could react, movement flickered at my feet.

  An Adept emerged from my shadow, blade poised to strike my exposed side. I activated [Distort] and space folded inward, twisting violently around him. He barely had time to scream before his body imploded, limbs scattering in a mist of gore. As the blast from the Bandit Leader’s thrust dissipated, the smoke cleared between us. His eyes widened in stunned disbelief as his attack had been completely stopped, and I stood there, unscathed.

  A second Adept, dual-wielding short swords, lunged at me, his strikes a frenzied storm. His movements were quick, but I read his patterns, each wild arc, every desperate thrust. Another Adept, the one whose sword I had driven into the ground earlier, recovered and joined the assault. He timed his attacks to match the dual-wielder, their strikes alternating to press me from both sides.

  Then a third Adept entered the fray.

  His hands burned red with gathered mana, his stance shifting into a casting motion. The moment his fingers curled into a finishing sigil, the other two split away, disengaging from their attacks. Fire bloomed at his fingertips, a wide cone of searing flames hurtling toward my back.

  I didn’t even turn.

  A rift snapped open behind me, mirroring another in front of the dual-wielding Adept. The [Fireblast] funneled straight through, erupting point-blank against its unintended target. The explosion hurled him backward, his body slamming into one of the man-made outposts with a sickening crunch.

  I moved to capitalize on the moment, but my mana sense flared in warning. My eyes darted toward the Bandit Leader, now preparing another spear thrust. Unlike before, there was no pulsing thrum, only a steady, ominous glow as golden light enshrouded the entire spear. The sheer density of mana coiling around it signaled his intent. This attack was an execution.

  The remaining Adepts seized the opportunity. One came in high, both hands gripping his sword as he brought it down in a powerful, cleaving arc meant to split me in two.

  I sidestepped cleanly, feeling the force of the swing pass just inches from my shoulder. The ground cracked where his blade struck, sending a jagged tremor through the dirt.

  The second Adept lunged, a thrust aimed at my ribs, his palms glowing red with mana. Instead of pulling away, I turned into him, spinning with the momentum of his strike. My body curved against the trajectory of his attack, dragging his thrust just past my position. His own force pulled him forward, throwing him off-balance. Before he could recover, I hooked my leg behind his and swept it out from under him.

  His body lifted off the ground, momentum flipping him sideways. As he fell, I pressed a palm against his back and let space collapse inward. The implosion struck point-blank, slamming him into the ground with brutal force, his body caving into the dirt like a shattered pillar.

  The swordsman recovered, pivoting with another horizontal slash. I answered with a rift blade, needle-thin and honed to a razor’s edge. I met his attack mid-motion, space itself slicing through metal and flesh. His sword, cut in half at the blade, clattered to the ground in two pieces, his severed head following a breath later as the third.

  I turned my attention back to the Bandit Leader. The spear in his grasp now glowed with blinding radiance, its charge reaching a crescendo. I teleported.

  Anticipating my move, he whirled toward his back, spear thrusting with all the stored energy unleashed in a massive mana wave. The blast tore through the clearing, obliterating everything in its wake. Trees splintered, the earth itself gouged out in a massive trench.

  Unfortunately, for him… I hadn’t appeared at his back.

  I had positioned myself exactly where he had originally been facing. The very counter he had attempted played into my hands and his mistake was fatal.

  "Guess I had more luck than you thought." I said.

  Without hesitation, I enshrouded my hand in space-attuned mana and sent a precise, concentrated wave at his skull. The distortion hit him instantly, his head crumpled in on itself, disintegrating into nothing. His body slumped, lifeless, as the stolen spear clattered beside him. I absorbed the last of the essence and silence followed.

  The battle was over.