Beyond Existence

Red Devil

"Third bro! Over here!" Buttface, a underling of the Zerith mountain bandits, called out as he opened a sack.

The Zerith mountain bandits were infamous for their dominance and vicious  rule over the dangerous terrain of the Zerith mountains, a lawless region that served as a border between the Arth Kingdom and the Yul Republic.

The massacre of a passing merchant caravan left a scene of devastation in its wake. Corpses littered the ground, blood pooling beneath them. Vultures circled above, eager for the bandits to leave so they could feast. The bandits looted the remains for anything of value.

Third-eye, the raid leader, glanced toward Buttface's call. He walked toward him, but not before pausing to kick over the body of a young woman. The corpse flopped to its back, lifeless eyes staring at the sky.

"What a waste," Third-eye grunted, frustration seeping into his voice. "Only woman in the whole lot."

He continued toward Buttface, who grinned as he wildly opened the sack.

"You won't believe what I found, Third bro. We hit the jackpot!" Buttface boasted, his excitement barely contained.

Third-eye peered into the bag. His eyes widened, and he couldn't stop a gleeful laugh from escaping his throat. Without hesitation, he dipped his fingers into the sack's contents, taking it to his tongue. It was sharp and dissolved like salt, leaving behind a dizzying sensation.

"It's real," he muttered before shouting out, "This small bag alone will keep us fed for months!"

The rest of the bandits, sensing the excitement, turned their attention toward the commotion.

"Is that white dust?" one of the bandits asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

"You bet it is," Buttface replied, his smirk growing wider.

"Damn, then all this trouble was worth it," another bandit said, visibly relieved.

"To think these bastards were hiding it for themselves," one spat, glancing at the dead bodies with disgust.

"Yeah, they got what they deserve," another added, as the rest of the bandits began to celebrate.

Third-eye silenced them with a single throat-clearing.

"Now that we've got the dust, only take what's useful and dump the rest. We leave in half an hour."

Suddenly, a voice caught the bandits attention.

"All this fuss over some sand."

Third-eye spun around. His eyes landed on a figure in a black hooded cloak, crouched over a corpse, calmly searching its pockets.

"Who the hell are you?" Third-eye demanded, his shock momentarily freezing him in place.

The man didn't bother to look up. Instead, a faint smile formed beneath his hood as he extracted a small object from the dead body's clothing.

"Found it," the man muttered to himself, holding the object up to the light. He kept the object in his cloak and stood up to leave completely ignoring the senior bandit.

Third-eye clenched his teeth, his jaw tight with fury. He raised his chin slightly, signaling to his brothers. The bandits immediately moved to block the man's path. The stranger stopped in his tracks, surveying the scene with a calm indifference. They had him surrounded.

"Where do you think you are going? You've got balls of steel to ignore Third bro like that." one of the bandits stepped forward, his voice full of bravado.

"The boss mutts haven't had a fresh meal for a while, you'll make a nice snack." another sneered, the disgusting smirk curling his lips.

"What did you just take? You know what, never mind... we'll take it off your dead body." Another bandit laughed, and soon the rest joined in, the sound of their amusement echoing through the blood-soaked air.