"Look who we have, boys!"
As the three wise men finally left the forest into new terrain, they were stopped by five armed bandits. "You folks are far from home." The bandit leader in the middle took a closer look at them before throwing his head back and laughing boisterously. "How unfortunate for you to stumble into our territory." His lips curled into a sinister smile, showing his yellowish, crooked teeth.
Standing in front of his friends, the poet sweated nervously in realization of what's to come as he came to analyze the man leading this bunch of low lives. The dirty beard, along with the stained, red-cloaked armor, told Bruno how serious this encounter would be.
"We don't want any trouble," Bruno spoke in a calm, rational tone while glancing over his shoulder at the duo. "My friends and I are simple travelers," he said, turning his gaze back to the armed men. "We meant no offense in disturbing your place," he insisted diplomatically, hoping it would discourage them from doing anything irrational.
He has had his fair share of encounters with these scum; for most of his journey, he went through encounters with thieves and criminals, but fortunately, he always managed to be unharmed thanks to the hired mercenaries that occupied most of them, and it is never wise to stand in the path of men who have money and blades to dispose of any obstacle they encounter.
"Well, you should've thought twice before arriving here. In this godforsaken land, anything goes," the bandit leader smirked wickedly, stroking his beard in a conceited manner, "although, judging from your clothes," eyeing Bruno and then the two other men with great interest, "I suppose you boys got any valuable possession of yours, huh?"
Valuables? Bruno knows a fact that none of them have any coins or anything that is considered 'valuable' by these people, but then the problem lies in their lives as they can use them as hostages for ransom if it comes to that. "We don't have anything, sir," he responded with the most casual and honest way he can muster while keeping himself composed: "We are simple travelers on our pilgrimage journey across the land."
Laughter emitted from the bandits, their leader pointing at them with his finger while snickering in amusement. "Did you hear that, fellas? They got nothing!" The man chuckled heartily with a hand to his belly, "But it ain't going to work on us," as if on cue, his whole demeanor turned from a friendly one into that of a murderous savage. "You have no idea how much we love torturing travelers for entertainment before cutting their throats." taking a step forward with a sword in hand, his friends followed suit while brandishing their weapons.
Gulping nervously, the frightened poet frantically waved his hands in front of them defensively, "Hold on! Wait! Harming us won't do anything!" He called out, not wanting to anger these men in fear that they would kill him on the spot or worse, harm Genno and Seth, "Just let us be on our way, and we'll pay no attention to each other's existence!" Plead desperately, even though the bandit leader simply snickered at the poor fool's attempts at reasoning with them.
Ignoring the pitiful display of weakness and cowardice, the bearded man returned to his cruel demeanor once more: "You really think we have any mercy on travelers like yourselves? Who are you trying to kid?!" His rough, scratchy voice was laced with rage: "We are damn bandits that have no rules, and we will do anything we want to live!" Pointing his sword at Bruno's neck, he said, "And the only thing that's going to get us through this land is food and riches!" Proclaiming with malice clear on his face while tightening his grip around the hilt of his blade, ready to slit this poet's throat.
Genno clenched his fists, clearly prepared to kill all of them if it was necessary, as the moment he took a step forward, he was immediately stopped by a hand on his shoulder. "Seth?" Turning his attention to the young man, who gave a shake of his head.
He didn't want any kind of bloodshed or killing of those who can still be redeemed from their sins. "Stand down and let me handle this, brother," Seth smiled reassuringly at the other man, holding his own cross necklace with a tight grip. "This is my responsibility and no one else's but mine." The prophet spoke in a gentle tone with a firm resolve to his voice.
The monk wanted to argue, but knowing how stubborn Seth is, he couldn't prevent himself from letting out a sigh of defeat before stepping away from the conflict with arms crossed in displeasure at seeing those men being spared from the fates that they deserve.
Poor Bruno felt his skin crawling as the sword tip gently pressed against his neck. "Hey..." He whimpered quietly while beads of sweat dripped down from his forehead. The fear and anxiety he experienced now were unimaginable. "Spare us, just spare us! We mean no harm, I—"
Then the Son of God said, "Put your sword back into its place, for all those who take the sword will die by the sword!" He walked and stood on Bruno's side as Seth glared at them with a wrathful expression that made all the bravest men stop in their tracks.
The leader of the bandits was surprised for a moment before briefly returning to his arrogant nature: "Who the hell are you, huh?!" Lowering his sword, he took a step backward to give some space, as his attention was now focused on this priest.
"Or do you think that I couldn’t ask my Father, and he would even now send me more than twelve legions of angels?"
Confusion sprang among the bandits, causing him to raise an eyebrow with an unsure frown, "what's this fool going on about?" He whispered to the one on his left, who merely shrugged his shoulders at the question while observing this peculiar figure.
Gritting his teeth, righteous and controlled anger coursed through Seth's body. He knew exactly who they were, and he was not about to let these bandits harm his friends in any way possible. "You use the sword to hurt others for your own gain," the young man took a deep breath before continuing, "even though I am a holy man, I jest not when I say that I can smite all of you within a split second."
Seth raised his right hand up into the air. He pointed up in the blue sky, "I am the Son of God, where the Lord is made in the flesh so I can bring salvation to all who truly believe in me." Words dripped out of his mouth with soft intensity. "If you want to value for your souls, I demand repentance at this very instant, and you will lay your weapons and bow your heads to the ground in humility." As he spoke these words, a gentle breeze blew across the landscape that brushed against his black hair.
Everyone remained silent, unable to comprehend the meaning of it until it clicked in him as the bandit leader's eyes widened in shock at the realization of who was standing before him: "You...you must be him!" Fear dripped off his voice before slipping just to fall on his butt. "The holy man that everyone is talking about!" The sword that was held tightly in his grasp moments ago fell out of his hands and onto the grassy field.
Slowly, all his men spoke whispers to one another; some of them were still skeptical about the rumors of Seth's miracles, while others became uneasy at the sight of their leader cowering in fear before this newcomer. All their conversations were abruptly brought to a halt the moment Seth snapped his fingers.
"Do you realize what you have done to all the innocent people you hurt?" Seth questioned them in a demanding tone, "Do you understand how much pain and misery you have caused yourselves and others?" Glaring daggers at each and every one of them, he began to sweat heavily due to his presence alone.
Averting their gaze elsewhere while looking ashamed, the bandits seemed uncomfortable; they can't understand why, but there is something about this man's aura that they can't figure out. "Fuck..." The leader of the bandits swallowed a hard lump before shaking his head in denial, grabbing his sword to slowly stand up in bravely facing him once more.
"Your...your full of shit!"
Pointing the weapon directly at Seth's throat, "Yeah!" Another bandit chimed in agreement: "If you really are this God's Son, then prove it!" The leader demanded as others cheered on, "This new religion movement bullshit we are hearing about is just nonsense, and you're probably an idiot pretending to be something he is not!" Accusing him while more voices joined the argument.
"Con man!"
"Cultist!"
"Faker!"
But Seth remained firm in his stance. "Whether there is God or not, it doesn't imply his existence depends on what you or I have to say." The holy man spoke with a voice full of wisdom and authority, "so it no longer surprises me why there is many people who rarely believe in anything." He stepped forward, brushing away the blade that was inches away from piercing him.
The bandits watched with shock written on their faces as he did not waver in the slightest, landing himself face-to-face with the sinful man who tried to rob them of their lives. As he spoke again, Seth's words resonated within the hearts of all present in that area: "Will you strike me down? Are you going to risk the possibility of destroying your only chance of gaining redemption through grace?"
He shook fumblingly as the Son of God stared deep into his eyes, seeing past his mortal shell into his very soul. Those pitch-black pools burned into him, seeing all the terrible things he does to his victims. Every single ounce of his dark deeds was reflected within those bottomless irises.
This religious man in a white robe was unlike anyone he had ever encountered before. The leader of his men didn't understand it himself, but somehow he knew this man would be the one to grant salvation to all people, regardless of their backgrounds. Perhaps it's because of the aura that he radiates around him, or maybe it's simply because of how profound those words he spoke were.
It just made him feel things he never thought were possible for a person like him, and he couldn't help himself in the self-reflection happening just by this mere interaction. Anxious, afraid, confused, frustrated, and shameful of what he has become over the years of committing countless acts of brutal cruelty, he has become the person he is.
Born in a poor place, he never knew what his parents looked like since they abandoned him on the streets, and due to a lack of education, he couldn't afford much. Only surviving on scraps of whatever before turning to crime and thus leading him into a life of banditry.
"I..." Dropping his sword and turning around, "We are leaving," the bandit ordered with his head hanging low, and the others reluctantly followed suit while murmuring quietly among themselves. "They're not worth our time anyway," their leader said to his comrades under his breath. "Let's go and find another place to settle for a while." The answer greatly surprised them.
One of them, wearing a blue cloak and holding a bow, had to point it out: "Are you serious, boss? Did you just show a sign of surrendering to them?!" He motioned at Seth, Genno, and Bruno, who were staring at the bandits in surprise, "How can you suggest something like that?! This is insane, and it isn't like you!"
"Shut up!" Boss snarled with a harsh glare as he gave a quick glance over his men. "All of you, just shut up!" The leader growled angrily, "Today's not a good day, okay?" He shouted at his friends while sounding very upset at his decision to spare Seth and his companions.
Not having expected to be spared, Bruno's jaw dropped with eyes bulging wide in utter astonishment. "T-t-that is impossible," he stammered in low volume. "How in the world is this not a dream?" The poet didn't quite know what else to say after everything he just witnessed.
One thing Bruno had never seen in his life was an enemy showing mercy to another, but in this case, it seemed as if it were some kind of miracle. This is a good thing, right? Why did it bother him so much that he cannot explain why, and that disturbed him?
"That's final, and no one is questioning my leadership anymore! You hear me?!" He yelled, waving his arm in the air as some of the bandits cringed in pain. They've never seen their leader so...generous at sparing other people before; it's like he has completely changed into someone else.
It's odd for them. They knew that something was wrong, but none of them wished to confront their leader about what was currently occurring. "Okay," one of them finally responded with a nod, "alright, boss, you have my vote on that. Whatever you say, I just want to go home and sleep for the night," the member added, mentally exhausted from dealing with today's events.
Genno's eyebrows twitched at their attitudes. "I'm glad you fools have come to your senses, but don't think for a moment that karma won't come and get you later for what you have done to many innocent people." His scowl intensified. "Mark my words that I will make sure of it."
The bandits glared at the monk but chose to remain silent and walk away, leaving them alone as Bruno sighed relief at finally being free from a near-death experience. "That's amazing, Seth," he said as he walked up to his friend with a bright smile on his face, "thank goodness that they finally listen to you."
Their group leader stopped in motion, his expression becoming curious: "A brat?" He wondered, seeing an approaching child of all places heading in their direction, "How in the world is there a brat out here?" Angered, he took out his sword once more while eyeing the boy carefully.
"Hey, who the hell is that?!" One of his men asked, pointing at this kid as more of them turned to face him, "And what do you think you're doing out here, boy?!"