At first, it was chaotic.
The three bandits were unused to the incredible power flowing through them, which made them uncoordinated, often tripping over themselves or each other. Silas would swing too hard and stumble forward, leaving himself exposed.
Regin's heavy-handed sword strikes were easy for Borag to parry, and Markin's quick movements made him a blur, but his lack of strength meant Borag barely flinched when he managed to land a hit.
At this point, Borag was laughing, clearly enjoying the one-sided fight. He ducked under another wild swing from Silas, then countered with a quick elbow to the man's ribs. Silas grunted, stumbling back, his vest absorbing most of the damage but leaving him dazed.
"Come on!" Borag taunted, stepping forward to land a solid punch on Regin's vest, sending the bandit sprawling backward. "All the power our sire gave you, and yet you remain weak?"
But as the minutes passed, something began to change.