The caravan was trapped between two hills. Though the path was wide, the trees were short and the terrain was mostly even. So to speak, there was barely any cover for the soldiers when the bandits launched their ambush.

A flurry of arrows was released as the avant-garde of the bandits’ ambush. Many soldiers instantly fell victim to the hail of arrows. Once they realised what was going on and sounded the alarm, the bandits already had the high ground, figuratively and literally.

The soldiers scrambled to their posts and stations but it was a mess. The bandits were ferocious and ruthless in their assault. They were well-prepared too. In fact, one could say they were attuned to the strength and size of the princess’ escort force.

Henry understood all of this the moment he climbed off of the carriage and stepped into the battlefield. While everyone was running for cover or hastily preparing for a sortie, Henry stood amidst the chaos with all his composure, knowing no attacks thrown by the bandit could harm him. If there was, his instincts would have warned him.

Henry was not luxuriously dressed like the princess but he was sporting garments that were better than the commoners of this kingdom. When some of the bandits saw Henry’s nonchalant composure, their faces expressed confusion.

Henry smirked at one of those confused bandits and that bandit took it as a personal slight. He snarled at Henry in a tone that was too gruff for Henry to make out and shot an arrow at Henry.

Instead of dodging, Henry walked towards the arrow. It struck him but not piercing into his flesh or his skin. The arrow simply bounced right off of him.

The bandit widened his eyes. He blinked a few times as if to make sure he hadn’t been seeing things. When Henry smirked at him again, the bandit grimaced and fired another arrow.

This arrow also bounced off from Henry harmlessly.

“Impossible!” the bandit growled.

Henry rolled his eyes. Do you people have nothing new to say?

Henry’s aloof reaction only made the bandit more furious. He lunged at Henry with an axe but his swing was easily sidestepped by Henry. He was then sent flying backwards by a kick to his belly.

The bandit went tumbling for a few feet before sliding to a stop. He was quick to climb back on his feet. He glared at Henry with a bloodshot gaze. He shouted to his fellow archers above the cliffs to concentrate their fire on Henry.

A hail of arrows descended upon Henry but with just a little bit of Gravity, the arrows lost their strength and dropped to the ground once they were within a few dozen feet of Henry.

The bandits were absolutely dumbstruck at such a sight.

“A mage!” one of the archer bandits shouted. “He’s a mage! Quick! Kill the mage first!”

Immediately, nearly all of the bandits’ attention was on Henry, though only less than half their total number rushed at Henry as the rest of them were engaged in their own battles with the soldiers.

The ones who turned their focus to Henry were no less than a dozen. They let out battle cries. Some shot arrows. Some threw their axes. Some threw themselves straight at Henry, though not in a romantic way.

None of the arrows pierced Henry's skin as he just stood on the spot without moving a muscle. The axes also bounced right off of him. The bandits that resorted to melee came to realise the futility of their courage when their own blades bore the same result as their peers who used range means.

Henry reached out and easily grabbed one bandit by the neck. With as much ease, he lifted the bandit off the ground. Henry mustered only a tenth of his strength and he was able to crush the bandit’s neck as easy as breaking a toothpick.

A bandit cried out in sorrow and anger, seemingly a close friend of the bandit Henry had just broken the neck off. The bandit rushed at Henry with a howl of courage but he didn’t rush far when the body of his fallen comrade crashed into him. Thrown with great force, the bones of the two bandits shattered quite audibly.

The sound of the entire skeleton shattering was quite unnerving. Many of the bandits began having second thoughts. Even though they had witnessed Henry’s strength, some of them were still adamant about being the one who would make Henry bleed but after hearing that sound, their will faltered.

Taking advantage of the bandits’ terror and confusion, Henry took out a few more bandits with just his physical strength. A single punch was all it took for Henry to send the bandits to meet their maker.

Despite the despairing scene before the bandits, there were still a few obstinate individuals amidst the lot who thought they would be the ones to take Henry down. They charged at Henry without thinking about failure or their demise.

They were given a huge dose of reality when their weapons laid not even a scratch on Henry. They didn’t even make Henry budge from where he stood.

They immediately dropped their weapons and ran for their lives. Unfortunately for them, Henry didn’t let them run far. They barely managed to get a few steps in before their bodies were turned into pieces by Henry’s Aura Blades.

I know they won’t be able to hurt me but… to think they couldn’t make me budge. If this is the extent of the average capability, no wonder they feared Ulrum so much. A Ruguth can easily tear through this measly bunch.

While Henry was in the midst of belittling the bandits in his head, a large bolt of flames suddenly blasted him from nowhere. Henry neither saw nor sensed the attack coming—

—since his instincts did not deem the attack as a threat.

The bandits cheered when they saw Henry consumed by the firebolt, none the wiser of Henry’s innate immunity towards fire or any form of heat in general.

Just as one could expect, the bandits’ cheers lasted a fleeting moment and died down quickly when they saw Henry walking out of the fire unharmed and unscathed.

Henry scanned the area with his eyes. His scouring caught sight of a robed figure hiding above a cliff, some distance away from the ambush. The robed figure was even wielding a staff, enhancing Henry’s preconceived notion of a typical mage's appearance.

With his limbs glowing a vermilion radiance, Henry shot towards the cliff like a bullet. The shockwave he left behind pulverised those who stood too close and threw the feet off of those who stood just far away enough.

The mage couldn’t even express his shock when he saw how fast Henry sped towards him. In less than five seconds, Henry was now standing just a few feet away from him.

The mage threw some spells at Henry in haste. The spells were bolts of blue energy. As intimidating as the spells seemed, they were ineffective against Henry.

Huh. So this is human magic? Pleasing to the eyes but disappointing in practicality.

The mage was flabbergasted when he saw the ineffectiveness of his spell but he didn’t lose hope. He waved his staff around and magical chains shot out from the ground, coiling themselves around Henry.

The mage then began chanting in a language Henry didn’t comprehend, which surprised him. After the chant finished, a bolt of lightning descended from the sky and struck Henry.

A wide grin spread across the mage’s lips as he witnessed the thunder biting down on Henry. However, his grin fell when the lightning faded.

Henry walked out of the smoke without a scratch. “Ow,” he muttered. “That stings.”

“Preposterous. What are you!? How are you unscathed despite being hit by a seven-circle spell?!”

“Seven-circle? Is that the unit of measurement for a mage’s strength?” Henry mused.

“Curses! To think Ulrum is hiding a powerhouse of an unknown origin and wearing the skin of a human. I must let the marquis know.”

Though the mage was uttering to himself in a whisper, Henry caught every last word of it.

The marquis, eh? I will have to ask the princess about this.

The mage cast the same binding spell as before but this time with more chains. The mage immediately turned tail and ran before he could even see the result of his spell.

It was wise that he didn’t since Henry cut through the chains easily with his claws.

The mage had barely run for a few yards when he suddenly found himself falling to the ground.

The mage tried getting back up but it was extremely difficult. He could barely raise his head. His entire body felt like it was being pulled to the ground by an unseen force.

“You’re obviously no bandit but you stand with them,” Henry muttered as he sauntered towards the mage.

“Please… mercy,” the mage begged.

“Then answer me this, who sent you?”

“...N-no one.”

Henry sighed and increased the gravity.

The mage grunted and groaned as his face smacked right into the ground.

Henry then lessened the gravity, allowing the mage to breathe and talk. “Last chance, who sent you?”

“H-his Majesty! It was His Majesty, I swear!”

“Lies.” Henry put his feet on the mage’s calf, threatening to crush it.

The mage panicked even more and gave in. “The marquis! It’s the Marquis! The Marquis of Regan! It’s true! I swear.”

“Hmm, the Marquis of Regan. Duly noted.”

“Please, let me go. I—”

The mage didn’t get to finish his words as Henry decapitated him with an Aura Blade. Henry then ruffled through the mage’s pockets and took whatever he managed to find. The articles consisted of a pouch of coins, a rolled-up parchment, a pendant, and a compass.

As Henry turned around, a large shirtless man, wearing only a loincloth, dove at him after climbing up the ledge. Henry sidestepped the man and the man tumbled across the ground.

The man was quick to recover and rose to his feet. “My name is Grogon. Slayers of thousands. I have slain men and beasts alike and I have yet to encounter a loss. You are a worthy opponent. Our battle shall be—”

Like the mage, the half-naked man didn’t get to finish his sentences and collapsed to the ground, without his head.

Henry spared the headless man not another glance and hopped off the cliff. When he landed, he created the shockwave that swept quite a few individuals off their feet, friend and foe alike.

Despite witnessing Henry’s seemingly impenetrable defence, the bandits didn’t lose their spirits. They still charged at Henry as if thinking they would be the one to strike him down. Sadly, they were wrong.

The tips of their weapons broke and shattered against Henry’s skin. Their confidence and spirits were broken along with them. Before they could regret their courage, Henry unleashed a torrent of lightning at the bandits.

Screams and shrieks of agony resounded across the battlefield. The blinding flash of the lightning and the throes of the dying bandits caught the attention of everyone. All the gazes were drawn towards Henry.

The bandits bounced their gazes between their fallen comrades and Henry. Their expressions worsened with each bounce as the reality sank in. They looked towards the cliff and their faces paled when they found none of their ally archers remained.

They had either run away after seeing Henry’s prowess or they were already dead. The bandits did not know which one was worse.

Their choices were now clear as day and so was the outcome. Ultimately, most of the bandits threw down their arms and began their retreat. There were those that chose to fight until the end but they were quickly cut down by the soldiers.

Henry did not give chase to the bandits that ran away. He thought about it but he didn’t find any good reason to. It was best not to overstep his comprehension in a land where he knew little about.

He returned to the carriage, ambling his way through the battlefield. The soldiers made way for him. Some looked at him in reverence. Some looked at him in fear. There were also some who looked at him with hostility and Henry took note of these few.