Chapter 109: Strings
Within a matter of seconds, the battlefield underwent a dramatic transformation, becoming an unrecognizable landscape. Swaths of Sun Magic rained down upon the hollow, devastating groups of bandits and turning the evening into noon. Soltair swung his sword with immense force, forcing the Bandit Leader onto the defensive, reversing their positions from moments earlier.
"I must say," Soltair began casually. "I was wondering how we’d track you down. But to think you’d deliver yourself to our feet..."
"Shut it," the bandit roared, smashing his axe down in fury.
Soltair gracefully sidestepped the blow before striking at the haft. The bandit’s eyes widened, a curse forming on his lips, but he had invested too much power into the attack to retract it. The sword passed through cleanly, severing the enchanted wood like butter. He stumbled back, staring at his sundered weapon before Soltair’s next attack forced him to one knee, panting.
"To think you’ve pushed me this far," he growled, stuffing a hand inside his leather jacket. "You heroes are no joke."
Soltair frowned, warily raising his blade. "Surrender now, and I can promise a fair trial for you and your men."
"I’m not looking for pity," the bandit spat.
As he withdrew his hand from his jacket, he revealed a silver-handled mirror. I blinked, temporarily blinded by the overwhelming magical aura emanating from the mirror. It surpassed even Soltair’s essence, possessing a strength closer to that of the Pope’s.
Soltair stared at it in confusion. "A mirror?"