Chapter 13: I am the Messenger
Just outside the gate stood a group of rugged men, a dozen strong, clad in mismatched leathers and armor pieces painted in blood-red stripes. Each bore a jagged symbol burned into their chest plates — a twisted flame, the mark of the Scorchback Kin.
At the front stood a tall, broad-shouldered brute with a crooked nose, carrying a double-bladed axe casually over one shoulder. Next to him, tied up and bruised but alive, were Eren, Marna, Kel, and Donn, forced to kneel with ropes binding their arms.
The bandit leader sniffed the air with a smirk.
"...You smell that, boys?"
"Rice," one muttered.
"Wheat," another added, licking his lips.
"Wow, look at these villagers. They are not suffering from a famine," said a third, cracking his knuckles. "That's a full feast."
A crooked-nose brute spat on the ground. "This village's got more grain than the whole western stretch. Shall we help ourselves to it?"
The Bandit Leader silently observed, and then turned to the villagers now gathering behind the gates, wide-eyed and frightened.
"Well now," he sneered. "We'll be takin' your harvest, your healers, and your hospitality. You're welcome, peasants."
A few bandits chuckled.