NOVPUB
Chapter 130: Bandits... Seriously?
The shopkeeper chuckled again and came out from behind the counter, leading Zayn outside.
He pointed down a long, winding road that dipped through the hills. "That’ll take you there. Just follow the road past the split rock and ignore the weird signs about goats."
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Ignore the signs... got it. Unless they’re magic goats. Then I’m fighting them."
The man patted his back. "Good luck, traveler."
Zayn made his way back to the stables, still chewing over the information.
Edgeville.
So they had lied to the guild to pay less, ended up taking a longer route, and now Zayn was chasing after them like an older brother who just wanted his siblings to check in more often.
He found Zayn-the-horse munching on some hay. "Alright, buddy. Found our next destination. You ready?"
The horse neighed softly, flicking its ears.
"I’ll take that as a yes."
As he saddled up and began riding toward the road out of town, he muttered, "I swear, when I find them, I’m gonna yell at Tobias for exactly five minutes. Then I’ll ask Elisse if she brought extra food. Then I’ll probably fall asleep."
...
The wind had grown colder the farther Zayn rode.
His horse snorted beneath him, huffing steam into the brisk air.
The cloak around his shoulders flapped in the wind as he held it tighter over his nose, squinting ahead at the nearly featureless terrain.
"Edgeville, my ass," he muttered, patting his horse’s neck. "If I don’t die from monsters, the frostbite’ll do it."
It had been hours of nothing but lake reflections and the occasional angry squirrel.
Then — finally — movement.
A girl.
She was sitting under a tree, arms wrapped around her knees, head bowed.
Her clothes were barely there, little more than a pair of shorts and a top that might’ve once been a shirt before someone shredded it for dramatic effect.
Zayn frowned and pulled the reins.
"That is suspicious," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Too suspicious."
He slowed the horse to a stop a safe distance away and dismounted, his boots crunching the frosted grass.
His soul energy simmered lightly under his skin, subtle, prepared.
As he approached, the girl looked up, revealing sharp emerald eyes that flashed unnaturally. Her lips parted, and Zayn’s instincts screamed — he didn’t think, just moved.
FSSSSHHHH
A stream of green venom exploded from her mouth, sizzling through the air where Zayn’s head had been moments earlier.
It hit the ground with a hiss, melting through dirt and stone like acid through butter.
"Yeah, nope," Zayn muttered, dodging another volley. "Definitely not lost. Definitely an ambush."
"Stay still!" the girl hissed, more venom spraying out, cutting through the air in erratic arcs.
Behind him, rustling.
Zayn spun.
From the bushes, bandits emerged — some laughing, some hollering, some cracking their knuckles like they were auditioning for villain roles in a cheap stage play.
There were five of them. One had an eye patch. One had no shirt. One was just... really tall.
"Yo," the shirtless one grinned. "Thanks for walking right into the trap."
Zayn cracked his knuckles. "Yo, thanks for making me feel like the main character."
Then they rushed him.
Zayn didn’t hesitate.
Soul energy ignited from within, flooding into his limbs.
His body moved before thought — ducking under a punch, grabbing the man’s arm and slamming him over his shoulder into the ground.
He backflipped to avoid a dagger slash, planting a foot in the air to pivot and land a kick to a second bandit’s chest.
The tall one came at him with a greatsword.
Zayn slid low, hands sweeping in a martial curve, creating golden wisps of soul energy in his wake.
The blade swung down, crashing into the ground — and Zayn surged upward, elbow slamming into the guy’s jaw.
CRACK!
The tall man staggered.
Zayn grinned. "Should’ve stretched."
More came.
He leapt into the air, spinning mid-kick, soul energy swirling around his leg like wind caught fire.
The kick struck three of them like bowling pins, knocking them back into a tree with a loud crash.
The venom girl shouted, jumping into the fray.
Her hands glowed green and poisonous claws extended from her fingers.
She moved fast — unnaturally so — her feet barely touching the ground.
She slashed.
Zayn narrowly dodged. Her claw grazed his cloak, hissing as the cloth sizzled and burned.
"OI! I liked this cloak!" Zayn snapped, jumping back and forming a thin thread of soul energy from his fingertips.
She lunged again.
Zayn flicked the thread forward.
It wrapped around her wrist and yanked, redirecting her strike into a fellow bandit who screeched as venom tore through his armor.
"Oops," Zayn smirked. "Friendly fire."
She snarled and tried again —this time spraying venom in a wide arc.
Zayn dashed through it, soul energy bursting from his feet.
He twisted, flipped over her, and struck her in the back with a soul-empowered palm. She hit the ground, skidding, but rolled to her feet instantly.
"Who are you?" she gasped, panting, clearly shocked.
"I’m the guy you shouldn’t have tried to mug before brunch."
A bandit came from behind.
Zayn didn’t turn — he formed a soul blade from his palm, a small one, just enough to stab backward without breaking stride.
It hit the man in the gut and sent him reeling.
Another charged.
Zayn parried with his arm, slid into the man’s space, and delivered a lightning-quick series of blows — fist, elbow, knee, then a final uppercut that sent the man flying.
All that remained was Venom Girl.
She crouched, wild-eyed, claws ready.
Zayn adjusted his stance, breathing steady, soul energy flaring again.
"I don’t wanna hurt you," he said, voice calm now.
"You already have," she growled. "You’re stronger. You should’ve run. You could’ve lived."
"I still can," he said, and launched.
Their final exchange was quick, fluid, brutal — her claws slicing, his strikes parrying.
He finally locked her wrist, spun her body mid-air, and pinned her to the ground with his weight and a blade of soul energy glowing at her throat.
Her breath hitched. Her body trembled.
"I yield," she said finally, eyes glaring up at him with fire.
Zayn raised a brow. "So what now? You guys gonna keep robbing travelers?"
She didn’t answer.
One of the wounded bandits groaned behind them.
Zayn sighed. "Look, you’re decent. Fast. Poison girl powers. I’m sure there’s better work than highway mugging."
"You don’t know anything about us," she muttered.
"I know your aim’s kinda trash," he said, standing and brushing himself off.
She glared at him —but her lips twitched. Just a little.
Zayn looked at the rest of the groaning bandits.
"Alright, I’ll leave you guys alone, I’ll just be borrowing this girl for a bit."
Zayn grabbed the venom girl by the waist and lifted her like a sack of angry potatoes, casually waving to the groaning, scorched, soul-punched bandits behind them.
"Have a nice day!" he called out with a grin that probably annoyed them more than his fists did.
The venom girl squirmed. "Let me down!"
Zayn just shrugged and said "Nope" as he hopped back onto his horse.
The horse neighed, half annoyed and half excited, then took off down the road like it had a grudge against geography.
"You’re going to give me directions to Edgeville," Zayn said, voice loud over the wind. "Since you guys clearly know the area so well."
She twisted in his arms to look at him, probably ready to bite something, but then paused.
His eyes were still blazing.
Not just glowing — blazing — with golden soul energy with maybe a bit of pink that flickered like fire through cracked crystal.
The aura shimmered off his eyes like heat off asphalt.
He looked dangerous. Monstrous, even. The kind of guy who says "I could kill you" and means it.
And she definitely saw the part where he folded the crew of bandits into lawn furniture without breaking a sweat.
"If you don’t help," Zayn said, casually, "I could always kill you. And your friends. You know, the ones doing such a great job playing dead back there."
Her face twitched. "Alright, alright! Take the left path past the crooked tree. You’ll hit an icy ridge. After that, it’s a straight road to Edgeville."
Zayn relaxed and nodded. "See? That wasn’t hard. You’re actually kinda helpful when you’re not spewing acid at my face."
She grumbled something under her breath.
"What was that?"
"I said you smell like burnt soup."
"That’s fair," Zayn said, deadpan. "Your aim was a little off. So the soup’s on you."
They kept riding.
The path stretched out before them, all frost-covered trees and quiet lakes that reflected the pale sky.
The air bit at their cheeks, but the horse kept up the pace. Occasionally, Zayn would warm it with soul energy, keeping the steed going strong.
"So," Zayn said after a moment. "What’s a young girl like you doing with a bunch of sweaty, unwashed bandits who look like they belong in a bad stage play?"
She rolled her eyes. "You’re one to talk."
Zayn gave her a look. "You’re dodging the question."
She crossed her arms, still seated in front of him as they bounced along the path. "Not that it’s any of your business, but they found me a few years ago. I was just surviving, and they let me stay. Taught me stuff. I was small, but they didn’t kick me out."
"And in exchange you... melted people?"
"Sometimes," she muttered. "It’s what I’m good at."
