Boundless Evolution: The Summoning Beast
Chapter 34: Identity of the Bandit Leader

Chapter 34: Identity of the Bandit Leader

The ground beneath them cracked as an explosion of fire and concussive force erupted outward.

The sheer force lifted the veteran off his feet, sending him hurling backwards through the air as he flew out of the Tempest Circle.

He crashed into the dirt, rolling several times before skidding to a halt.

All the surrounding battles had stopped at this.

The wind had been knocked out of the veteran, his armour seared from the sudden heat.

The veteran gritted his teeth, planting his sword into the ground as he slowly stood up with difficulty.

’That move... only generals have access to that technique...’ he told himself as his vision swam for a moment but his focus sharpened when he saw the bandit leader approaching, fire still licking at the edges of his blade as the winds began to calm.

"What’s wrong? I thought you had me figured out?" the bandit leader taunted, his voice laced with amusement.

The realisation settled heavily in the veteran’s mind- this man wasn’t just a deserter. He had once been a warrior of a high ranking.

"You’re no mere bandit, are you?" the veteran said as he got to his feet, "Since we fought, you have been using military techniques."

The bandit leader’s smirk didn’t falter, but there was a glint in his eyes- something sharp as he spoke, "So you figured it out. Took you long enough."

"That technique that you just used," the veteran spoke, wanting to confirm something, "It is something only soldiers of General rank have access to."

"Hahahahahaha!" the bandit leader laughed loudly, "I am impressed that you know that technique. If you know that technique, then you must know my name too."

At this the veteran’s eyes widened in another revelation as he muttered, "High officer Gutta..."

"Bingo! Hahahah!" the bandit leader laughed immediately, affirming him, "I am surprised soldiers in Eldoria still remember my name."

"They remember you as a deserter..." the veteran said, his voice growing cold, "no, not as a deserter but as a traitor. A man who could not take the shock of not passing the General Promotion exam and stole a large C-rank sword arts under the fire affinity."

"I was robbed of the podium!" the bandit barked, the memory clearly still bitter and intense in his heart, "That exam was staged for someone else to win. But a traitor... you say..."

At this, the bandit laughed, "Haha! The way I see it, I left a sinking ship before it drowned me. There was no place for me in the military after that day despite me working since my teens for Eldoria. I realised something that day."

"The world does not reward loyalty. It rewards strength and cunning," the bandit spoke with a tone of seriousness, "And right now, old man, you’re looking weak. Men! Assemble!"

As he spoke this, the bandits let out a savage cheer as they had witnessed their leader overpowering the enemy’s strongest warrior. They did not care about honour or loyalty- strength was all that mattered to them.

And in their leader, they saw the strongest. Having their confidence return, one by one, they stepped forward, their bodies tensed, ready to follow him into battle.

"Soldiers!" the veteran shouted as all the soldiers straightened their postures, grabbing their weapons as they assembled next to the general.

They had fought with honor, and loyalty. They all knew the story of Gutta and it was often used as an example by their higher ups. To them, a deserter was worse than a bandit- it was a man who had abandoned his comrades. Rage flared in their eyes as they tightened their grips on their weapons.

Both sides braced. A single spark would set it off...

Behind the lines of the soldiers, Boy’s ears flicked at the sheer intensity of the battle about to unfold. Unlike the soldiers who had been drawn and fighting in the escalating tension, he had been occupied elsewhere.

While the others had taken position, Boy had still been moving through the ruins of the village, dragging out trapped survivors and leading them to safety.

He had lost count of how many homes that he had broken into, not that he counted, or how many people he had pulled from beneath the wreckage, coughing and covered in soot.

By the time that he had finished, the battlefield had shifted. He turned just in time to see the final moments of the veteran and bandit leader’s duel, their words barely reaching his ears.

The bandit leader’s words lingering in the air, seeping into Boy’s mind like a slow-moving toxin. The world doesn’t reward loyalty. It rewards strength.

Boy had heard words like these before- on the battlefield, during his first summon, in the way summons were discarded, in how the weak were left behind.

The idea gnawed at him, unsettling yet familiar. He had seen firsthand that those who carve their own paths towards power would dominate while those who didn’t were left to suffer.

Was this how the world truly worked? He knew that the world had truly rewarded those who took the strength path and that was the path he took too and all he could see were benefits.

Yet, when he saw all the people who had idolised strength, he found that they were all people he did not like.

So to that question, something inside him resisted the idea, something unshaken by the chaos surrounding him.

His golden eyes flickered between the two warriors, locking in a deadly staring contest with their subordinates and allies ready to clash.

Then realisation struck, during such a clash like this, both sides would suffer heavy losses. He had to act.

Immediately, from behind the soldiers, he turned to the veteran soldier, his golden eyes locking onto him with urgent intensity as he said, ’Nod if you can hear me.’

Hearing this, the veteran stiffened, his grip on his sword tightening as he suddenly heard a voice clearly speaking to him.

He could not understand where the voice had come from but Boy recognised this and he hurriedly tried to calm him down.

’I am the hyena,’ Boy spoke again, his voice steady but urgent, ’there is no time to explain, but I need you to listen. If you understand me, show one finger for yes, two for no.’

The veteran hesitated, his mind racing with disbelief, but the sheer intensity in Boy’s voice forced him to react. Slowly, he put out one finger behind his back.

Boy nodded, ’Good. Now, listen to me. If we let this charge happen, both sides are going to suffer heavy casualties. Your men will also take losses, I have a plan to stop that but I need you to listen. Is that okay?"

The veteran’s brows furrowed, skepticism flickering across his feature as he stared at the line of bandits in front of him, ’the hyena has a plan? What could it possibly do?’

But nevertheless, he decided to hear Boy out as he showed one finger again.

"I have an ability to stop them in their tracks. I just need your soldiers to make it look like they’re preparing to take charge- do not attack yet, brace yourself . I need them to charge at you guys with full confidence. That’s when I’ll strike."

The veteran studied the plan, doubt flickering in his eyes. Trusting a summon to dictate the battlefield strategy was unheard of. This would undoubtedly cause a lot of confusion in the soldiers and if the plan didn’t work, it could mess up the morale of the soldiers too.

But there he remembered that he had seen Boy act on his own, making decisions that had saved a lot of lives. And if there was even a chance that this could work...

"Officer Raegan, we await your orders," one of the soldiers next to him called out, bringing him out of his trance.

Gritting his teeth, the veteran pulled out one finger again behind his back as he decided to trust Boy and his plan.

Making a snap decision, one built on instinct and trust, he raised his arm in a sharp motion and called out, "Hold like line! Prepare your counter-strikes! Their leader is dangerous, we will have to prepare extra to take care of him!"

The soldiers obeyed without hesitation. Their swords drawn as they took a defensive position, their bodies bracing themselves to absorb the full force of the bandits’ charge.

On the other side, the bandits saw this as weakness. They charged with their voices roaring loudly as they had thought that their enemies had resigned themselves to a desperate defense. Their leader grinned wickedly, his flames surging as he led the charge.

The ground trembled beneath the stampede of feet as the bandits closed the distance. Their wild cries filled the air, weapons raised high, their bloodlust growing with every step.

The gap between them and the soldiers rapidly shrank—fifty meters, forty, thirty.

The air was thick with anticipation, and in that moment, it seemed inevitable that the two forces would collide in a brutal melee.

The soldiers remained firm, their shields locked, their expressions unreadable. Not a single man faltered, though tension rippled through the ranks.

The veteran, standing at the forefront, could feel the heat of their opponent’s advance. He remained still, waiting, his trust placed in the strange summon.

The bandits reached twenty meters. Then ten.

And that was when a new figure appeared right behind Officer Raegan.