World’s Strongest Became the Game’s Weakest Villain

"Is that so? Must be me."

The crackling of the flames sounded from the distance as the two people clad in shawls and cloaks continued standing upright with their spears in hand. Spikes were embedded on the ground behind them with strings of rattle-ready bones hanging through them. A settlement deep in the forest of Ediab.

The two patrols yawned, yet again unamused by the lack of sound in this place. Not a single living breathing creature would come up to them throughout the day. Even adventurers and wagons had to be looted by their gang personally moving down the settlement and to the enemies.

If not for the words of their advisor, they would have long fallen asleep.

In recent months, a wave of change had hit one side of the Ediab forest. The people living in the villages that could barely grow a rotting stick of wheat were now erecting giant buildings and roads, their scope of activity reaching well into the outskirts of one of the most dangerous forests in the world.

"What danger though? We live deep in here and haven't been wiped out," One of the patrol lamented as he sighed into the sky.

"New guy, are you perchance, an idiot?"

"I am not the one saying perchance, sir."

"Tsk. Bastard," the other patrol clicked his tongue and sighed. "Listen well, the forest is not small. It stretches through the width of three countries! There's a place in between the forest that they call Dawn's Break. I've heard that's a forbidden zone which would make even dragons run with their tails tucked behind their ass."

"Is that so sir?"

"Yeah," the patrol sighed and said. "The monsters on the outskirts are just runaway feeds, and even these are considered strong for most people."

"I don't know about that..."

"Hah! This is why I hate kids. How old are you anyway? And you've only been here for a week, you'll see how big the world is tomorrow."

The young patrol lowered his shawl and turned to his partner, his eyes narrowed. "Tomorrow, are we doing something tomorrow sir?"

The older one widened his eyes and stuck out his tongue. As if he had said something he shouldn't have. The man scratched the back of his head and walked over to the young patrol. The spikes behind him revealing the small opening that they called the gate to their bandit hideout.

With the orange hue of the small fire casting his great shadow all over the ground and the lines of trees and huts behind, the man leaned low in front of the young patrol and whispered loud enough for the forest to hear.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you," he said. His feet landed strongly on the ground and a twig snapped under him. It was crushed, trampled under his feet. "Tomorrow, the bandits finally strike that damn village that's been growing wild."

"We are!?—"

"Shush!"

The older one hissed and the younger covered his mouth.

The flames swayed as the patrol's low laughter filled in for its crackles. In the distance, the shadow of the bandit grew further and further over the settlement, nigh touching the tip of the darkness.

"Some naive noble is funding the place. We'll plunder it all and gain back the name of the Dark Moon Bandits at nightfall tomorrow!"

The younger patrol's eyes widened and the older's screech grew louder.

"I even saw some pretty maids there. We'll be taking all the children and women, you can enjoy with one your age as well—Ugh."

A thud sounded.

The shadow in the distance distorted. Streaks of black soaring into the edges before falling back down.

Before the light could even sway, the shadow's head disappeared. In no time, its body shrunk and a thud sounded out in the air.

The young patrol removed his shawl and threw it away, revealing his locks of white hair and gleaming red eyes as he looked down at the body below.

With the shadow of the bandit gone, light fell on the huts behind. A gentle light brought by an all-swallowing flame.

The young patrol covered his mouth with his hands and called out like a bird.

Loud shuffles rang from the forest as dozens of knights in full armor stepped out of the tree and faced the settlements of the bandits.

The young patrol looked at them with a sweeping gaze as their armors and weapons gleamed menacingly. He tossed his spear down on the corpse and asked.

"Which one's Keith?"

"Here, young master."

"Alright. Keep quiet in there."

The young patrol, the young lord, Eugene Hall turned away from the knights and stepped ahead toward the village.

One knight came running next to him and knelt ahead, holding up a gladius in his hands.

The young lord didn't spare the knight as glance as he gripped his sword. His quiet yet determined footsteps encapturing all the ones behind him.

"Let's move."