The next morning, Redfern Village did not wake to the crow of a rooster. It woke to screams of terror.
Just as Judas expected, the soldiers stationed at the nearby checkpoint arrived in the village. They marched in with heavy boots and annoyed expressions, expecting to break up a brawl or chase off a few drunkards.
Instead, they found a graveyard.
The bandits were already dead.
This discovery did not make the Military Commander happy. In fact, it made him furious.
He stood in the center of the village square, his face turning a shade of purple that matched his uniform's trim.
"Who killed them?" he roared at a trembling villager. "Who denied me the credit?"
The villager could only stammer and point toward the Village Head's house, where the massacre was even worse.
The Commander ground his teeth. He ordered his elite team to hunt in the Willow Mountains for any remaining bandits. He needed someone to blame. He needed someone to arrest to save his reputation.
