Chapter 49: 4.3
Some four months after I arrived.
Location: Nameless village.
I feel better armed. Safer.
While I can't throw around tons like I could, a flying knife from out of nowhere should solve most problems. My range still seems the same, if not larger and my magnetic senses unchanged… perhaps finer. There is very, very little to obstruct them in this place. Radiation, radio… all the emissions of modern life are gone. It has improved my sense of the weather, the coming lightning and static build up being absolutely clear indications of storms and clouds.
Finally my master, the Smith asked when I would be leaving.
"A week." I admitted. "I am gathering some goods and intend to repay the indignities of the bandits but after this I will leave. I miss my home."
"Foolish boy! Intending to throw yer life away in battle. I have seen ye perform miracles in the forge." He rumbled. "Come with me!"
He marched out the forge, into his personal area it adjoined.
I followed, to find it filled with trinkets and weapons that he must have created on his own time. As I inspected some magnificent spears he threw something my way. Metal and heavy. I caught it, cushioning the weight slightly. Ringmail? Finer than anything I had seen him make before.
"Use it. Take the helmet and greaves too. They serve no purpose, except to waste my time in polishing." He gruffly ordered. "When ye return I wish to have one final day alone with ye in the forge."
Tsundere smith? Heh.
The greaves and helmet were similar to those of a hoplite, a shin guard and the helmet a very familiar shape. No ornamentation, simple but a refined design and flawless even to my senses. The chainmail had to be partially taken apart to be refitted, but simple enough work. It had some weaker links and these were replaced as well.
Wearing it was not as tiresome as it should be, since I added my magnetism to the task. Effectively rendering it weightless. Besides some very slow hovering, flight was a no go. My barriers too were brittle, like glass. A distraction or umbrella at best.
Preparing for my hunt, I asked for a packed lunch from Gertrude.
The villagers were somewhat surprised by my appearance in their village in armour. Several of the children followed me around, creeping up to stare as I walked back the way I had come. Down the road.
The walk wasn't as harsh as I remembered, but that may be the sandals I'm wearing now. Or the fact I'm not freezing to death.
I sense them long before I see them, one has a knife and quiver full of iron arrowheads, which means a bow, since I don't sense any mechanisms. The second has a broad blade, double-edged. The third… and I didn't realise there were three last time… has a hatchet. Wait a moment. Four. The last is watching the road up ahead as a lookout at the very edge of my range. Unarmed, it seems.
Welp… lets get this party started.
Floating slowly closer, to avoid those nasty, noisy twigs I gain a good view of the archer. He's wearing my gloves. MY GLOVES. From my costume. Lying back against a log daydreaming, probably as he waits for his next victim on the road.
The archer finds my knife at his throat, it's razor edge all the warning he needs to keep his mouth shut.
As his eyes bulge at the surprise I pull his own dagger away from it's sheath and then the bow and quiver of arrows by hand.
"Silence or you will be in the underworld in a matter of moments." I hiss.
He holds still, eyes bulging again as I draw an arrow without using my hands.
I notice his growing horror of the fact the knife at his throat is held by thin air. My reference to the underworld probably has him thinking about ghosts… which amuses me.
I loose the arrow, then string and launch the next and so on. Guided by line of sight and curving between trees at my lightest touch I reach the pair that must have beaten and stripped me naked.
The four arrows strike around them, by mere centimetres. They dive for cover and look around for the source of the arrows.
"Come out, little thieves. Otherwise I'll pin you to the trees and leave you hanging there as a warning to other robbers!" I shouted.
Which prompted them to try to circle me, relying on the fact a normal archer can only fire on one target effectively. Even if Green Arrow breaks this regularly with his trick shooting. I wonder how many master archers there are these days… probably too many.
So I don't hesitate to show them why they just made a mistake.
With two pulls I launch an arrow at each, one striking a boot and punching into the ground and the other nailing a hand to a tree. This is a fairly powerful bow, I realise. Good thing I'm not drawing it purely with my physical strength.
Oh and here comes the unarmed man, rushing through the underbrush. When I finally see him, several metres away I find he is armed. A solid looking club in hand, waving as he charges me. With a contemptuous flick of my head I turn to face him fully, launching a spread of three arrows simultaneously. They strike the club and send it flying into the woods as he losses his grip from the impact.
"Down, or I send the next into your eye socket." I order, the next arrow rising from the quiver like magic to draw the bow.
He takes a moment to process the inherently supernatural and then falls to his knees begging for mercy.
"Great spirit, please forgive us!" He wails.
I motion to the archer held by my knife. "Join him. On your knees." The knife pulling back a few centimetres from his neck.
The swordsman is next to come into view, cradling his injured hand as he walked very slowly. "I surrender." He gritted out, tossing his sword to the leaves and falling to a crouch.
I look at the archer. "Go bring the last one here, his foot is injured." I ordered, which made the man jump to do my bidding.
Sitting down on a nearby fallen tree I waited until the pair came close, hobbling.
They fall at my feet, but not before the wounded man hurls the axe at my chest.
It comes to a stop a foot away from me, mid air. I smile and push it aside with a finger, the man going pale and falling to push his face in the dirt to beg for his life.
"Hello again, perhaps you don't recall me? The strange boy in unusual clothes you left with not even a stitch of clothing?" I asked, as the faces of the swordsman and his hatchet wielding buddy showed panic. "I want my stuff back."
"We don't have it, noble spirit!" The swordsman admitted. "We gifted it to the Bear Lord to join his band."
"'Bear Lord'? A bandit chief? Hmm. Very well. Bring me to this man and return all that you still possess of mine. In return I will be merciful." I ordered.
"Of course, Spirit!" The men chorused.
With a gesture I recalled the arrows I had launched, making the men cower in fear as they swept overhead in formation to enter the quiver. I stood, brushing myself off.
"Well, jump to it. I don't have all day." I snapped.
"Yes, Spirit!"
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone