And in times of hardship we shall recall
That Humanity once had Great Warriors
And they shall come in the hour of need
And free Humanity from hellish oppression
"Book of Hope"
Verse XXI
"A deal," I answered confidently. "You take me with you and tell me everything you know about this world. In return, I handle the Raider problem."
The girl bit her lip and flicked her eyes toward the villagers again. I waited. There was no point in rushing Irma. I wanted her to decide on her own.
"Nox won't let you come with us, Achilles," she shook her head. I was pleased she didn't even question my capabilities. We'd settled that part completely. "He told everyone right away that you don't want to go and will stay in the village."
"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise, and the girl immediately clapped a hand over her mouth, alarmed.
"That's not what I meant!" Irma blurted hastily. "I mean, Nox—"
"Nox doesn't interest me right now," I said impassively. The elder and his son were already clear to me. This new info just filled in the picture. "He doesn't decide anything. You're the key here."
"Me?" Irma echoed, bewildered. Anxiety wrestled with surprise and disbelief in her eyes.
"You," I nodded firmly. "Whether the villagers reach the right place depends on you. How your kin will receive them depends on you. What did the elder promise you for your help?"
Irma suddenly flushed and dropped her gaze, as if I'd uncovered some grand secret. After the locals' brutish treatment—humiliation, rape, and who-knows-what-else—the elder must've had to sweeten the deal to convince her. Honestly, Irma could've just slipped off into the forest alone. She had no reason to drag a crowd along.
"Not him," she replied timidly. "Dog promised to take me as his wife and protect me from the Raiders. Later. When we get back…"
"So you didn't need protection before that?" I smirked. I remembered the elder's words about her assault vividly: "They'd have their fun and leave." Something like that?
"You don't understand!" she protested.
"I don't," I agreed. Cosmos almighty! How brainwashed was she to defend these cowardly bastards? "And I never will, but that's not important now. Trust me, Nox won't mind. The final call is yours. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes!" Irma replied, summoning her courage. "I'll take you… and tell you everything. And you'll kill as many Raiders as you can if they threaten me… us…"
Hesitations, slips… Irma was desperately trying to hide details about her real home. She even shifted the deal to focus on herself, which only piqued my interest more.
She was a lousy diplomat, but I wasn't about to exploit that. The key was her honesty with me. For now, that was enough.
"Then let's not waste time," I said, standing and heading toward the crowd.
I carried the sword openly, holding it slightly to the side as if inviting the only likely challenger to try again. Dog got the hint and quickly retreated to the back ranks.
My reserve sat at just fifty units, still in the red zone. Physically, I hadn't changed much since waking. But that didn't stop me from crushing an opponent's morale. I'd taken Dog down with a simple log. He knew with a sword in hand, I'd gut him like a rabid mutt.
"Why are you…" Unlike his son, the elder had to save face in front of the villagers. I could see Nox was terrified—downright petrified—but he couldn't just bolt. His already shaky authority would collapse entirely. He'd have to leave the village after that.
"Changed my mind. I want to come with you," I replied, smirking into the elder's eyes. My voice stayed low and calm. "That okay?"
I could dismantle the village's nominal leader with a couple of sentences. In this situation, it'd be effortless. Nox was powerless—unable to argue or stop me by force. His only leverage had scurried off and was now glaring at me hatefully from the rear.
My question left no room for alternatives. I was giving the old man a chance to save face—not because I liked him or wanted to help, but because I still knew too little about this world's realities to shoulder thirty helpless peasants right off the bat.
"Of course," Nox nodded eagerly. He grabbed the lifeline I'd tossed like a drowning man clutches a buoy. He'd quickly grasped the situation's gravity and didn't push back. "Glad you reconsidered. It's a long trek, and an extra pair of armed hands won't hurt. We're no good with weapons ourselves. Not our thing…"
"Nox," a man behind the elder piped up. "You said we'd leave the stranger here. That the Raiders would take him instead of blood money!"
The elder blanched instantly and swallowed hard. He didn't turn to the speaker. His full attention was locked on my face. And I was smiling.
"Situation's changed," I said curtly. The man's face was as plain as the axe tucked in his belt. I could've explained the full breakdown, but I wasn't sure he'd get it. "I'll pay the blood money later. If we run into Raiders on the way, I'll handle them myself."
That was enough. Nox realized he could breathe easy and promptly morphed into a doting grandpa.
"Doe, sweetheart," he flashed a fake smile. "Since we're all here, it's time to move. Stay in the middle. Masters forbid some beast attacks."
The villagers, already lined up along the edges, tensed and exchanged looks. Nox hadn't said it outright, but everyone knew they were being used as a human shield. Surprisingly, no one objected. I was genuinely shocked that this treatment was normal for them.
The crowd shifted slightly, reminding me of a herd of large animals. Men took the outer ring, while women and a few kids of varying ages moved to the center—under the protection of the elder and his son, the only two men in that section.
"Well, Masters aid us," Nox creaked out. "Lead on, sweetheart. Where to?"
I stood a bit to the side the whole time, not bothering to blend into the neat peasant ranks. If danger hit, they'd be no help—and could cause plenty of trouble. I just noted two Raider spear tips poking up from the crowd, one on each side.
Irma closed her eyes for a moment, and I froze in surprise. From my angle, I clearly saw a greenish interface flicker briefly in front of her face. I'd be damned if that wasn't a navigation system! The effect lasted less than a second before she opened her eyes and pointed toward a copse on the right.
"That way," she said confidently. "The trail starts there."
The group lurched forward, but I stayed put. Dog noticed immediately, nudging his father and nodding in my direction.
"Join us, Achilles," Nox called. "Or pick a spot you like among the folks."
"Already picked," I replied, not budging. The elder shrugged, feigning regret—as if he'd done all he could.
Weighing the data, I decided I couldn't pull off a scout role right now. My energy reserve was too low for even basic cloaking, and my combat options were limited. I didn't even have enough for local regeneration!
So I opted to trail behind the main group. It'd give me time to assess the situation and choose the best countermeasure. I ignored the villagers' reproachful glances entirely. Many saw my choice as a way to bolt if things got hairy, but I didn't care. I knew damn well they couldn't survive without me. Holding a weapon doesn't make you a warrior.
Even if you handed these locals a solid plasma cannon, the Raiders with their crude swords would mop the floor with them in seconds. Because the Raiders were scavengers—not predators, but far from sacrificial lambs.
I let the group get ten meters ahead before following. A hum of voices rose from the crowd. None of them bothered to lower their voices or mask their presence. It grated on me. I had to remind myself I wasn't dealing with professional soldiers, but scared civilians. That helped.
During the war, we'd evacuated entire planets before lyrdagi landings. It was pure chaos back then. People are always people—not heroes. Facing death head-on takes guts. I'd known plenty of career soldiers who cracked under pressure, and a few civilians who fought like demons. My favorite saying was: "Everything depends on everything." Fear is human, but back then, they had us—the Ideals. We'd show up in the darkest moments, and then our enemies would start fearing. Right up until they died.
Now, this felt more like a bizarre guided tour with a very quiet guide.
Irma played that role. Every ten minutes, she'd pause briefly to check her map. My last doubts vanished when the group suddenly veered mid-field, skirting an invisible obstacle.
We'd used that tactic in combat to bypass minefields—ours and the enemy's. For extra stealth, all systems ran on pulse mode. This wasn't a battle, but Irma's bare-bones interface couldn't function any other way.
I lingered at the turn, searching for signs of the unseen barrier. My own systems were silent—no juice even for a basic energy scan.
Visual inspection turned up nothing. Except maybe a faint greenish haze at the edge of my vision—an unknown field. But the moment I tried to focus on it, the anomaly dissolved without a trace.
Two hours later, we reached the target copse. A merciless countdown ticked in my head. Minimum time until Raider scouts showed up: three and a half hours.
The group's pace was pitiful. At least no one suggested a break. At this rate, we'd cover another five to seven kilometers.
The Raiders would travel light. Checking the village and tracking us would take some time. Then the chase would begin. Best case, we'd reach the edge of the distant forest on the horizon without issue. That'd be a solid spot to greet our guests.
A forest is like home to a seasoned fighter. And at home, even the walls help. In my case, the trees.
"We need to pick up the pace," I said, catching up to the main group and addressing Nox—though the message was for Irma. "If they catch us in the open field, getting away clean will be tough."
"You said you'd talk to the Raiders yourself, stranger," Dog couldn't resist. "Here's your chance."
"See something?" Nox asked, more practically.
"Calculated," I replied, ignoring Dog and pointing ahead. "At this pace, they'll spot us when we hit that grove over there."
"So they see us, big deal," Nox shrugged. Clearly, he didn't believe we could escape.
"If they see us, they won't need to search," I countered. "They'll send a runner to the main squad and follow us. Then they'll hit us all at once."
"They won't attack," Irma interjected. "We'll take the trail. They'll have to wait for their Guider. The trails don't like outsiders."
"They don't like anyone," a man from the outer ring grumbled, spitting to the side. "All sorts of filth prowls around. Look at us—heading to the Wilds by choice!"
The crowd shushed him instantly, and he clammed up. I glanced at Irma with interest, but she pretended not to hear. Another tidbit for the BAS. My bioimplant chewed through the data diligently—eventually, it'd spit out something coherent.
The group pressed on. Nearly everyone had overheard us, and their steps quickened unconsciously. No one wanted to face pissed-off Raiders. But we had to.
I kept tabs on our surroundings as usual. From snippets of chatter, this area seemed free of major threats. Large mice darted through the tall grass. Occasionally, some animal bolted from its hideout in the distance. The peaceful scene was marred only by the villagers' weary panting and the aura of fear hanging over them. I'd learned to sense that kind of thing in war, no system prompts needed.
Two hours later, a pair of pursuers appeared behind us. They were cocky, closing the gap fast. I knew the standard small Raider group was three. That meant a third was already hightailing it back. They'd scouted the village quicker than I'd figured.
All in all, not bad. I sped up and drew level with Irma. Nox shot me a nervous glance but stayed quiet.
"How far to the trail?" I asked calmly.
"About a verst," she replied.
"Wait for me at the entrance," I ordered tersely. "If I'm not back in two hours, lead them on."
"Where are you going?" she tensed instantly.
"Just a little stroll," I smiled. "Don't worry about me. I'll find you by your tracks."
I dropped back immediately. Her next question never came. The villagers hadn't spotted the pursuers yet, and I didn't want to spark panic. I wasn't lying about the tracks either. You didn't need to be a tracker to spot the swath thirty people left in an open field. They might as well have drawn arrows like in a kid's game.
The Raiders followed that path like it was a Confederation boulevard—confident and fast, nearly running.
I veered a couple meters off the trail, crouched, and doubled back slowly. Along the way, I found a big bird's nest with three large eggs. I took one. Then grabbed a couple of stones.
Soon, I heard heavy panting and irritated cursing. I wasn't sure what these guys were banking on, but they clearly weren't here to fight the villagers. What could simple peasants even do against them? Still, I had a surprise for our guests. I hit the dirt and laid out my arsenal: one egg, two stones, and the sword. I'd headed for this spot on purpose—a small rise I'd spotted earlier, perfect for overlooking the trail the group left.
"That bastard Nox!" one of the panting men hissed venomously. After a long run in leather armor, both reeked so bad you could hit them blindfolded. "And Boar's a moron! How do you even die in that shithole? We don't even take novices from there."
"Watch your mouth about the Seniors," his partner replied, half-hearted. The conversation had clearly looped a dozen times, and both bandits were sick of it. "Sizyy said our guys were carved up clean. The village couldn't do that. And you're wrong about novices—there was someone."
"You buy that?" the first snorted. I peeked up to size them up. He was a bald, wiry guy with a ratty, cunning face—the type to betray you without blinking. "Filin" glowed over his head. "Where'd they find an idiot dumb enough to cross our boss?"
"Dunno," the second shrugged. Tall and lanky—his name, "Dlinnyy," fit perfectly. Arms, legs, torso, even his nose were absurdly long and awkward.
"And that novice keeps gearing up but never shows," Filin went on. "Doesn't count. We'll catch 'em now and give 'em all a good thrashing. Nox, the men—I'll find the biggest one and kick him square in the nuts!"
Showtime. I rose slightly and lobbed the egg. A loud crack—bullseye on Filin's boot, splattering yolk up his shin. Dlinnyy's jaw dropped, and he burst into loud laughter. Perfect.
"Nothing funny about it!" Filin roared, but his buddy wasn't listening.
They stopped—excellent. My second throw was just as precise. The stone smashed into Dlinnyy's mouth, breaking teeth and lodging in his throat. He choked on his own laughter and crumpled.
Only then did Filin realize something was off. He yanked his sword from its sheath, looked up, and caught my next gift. The stone took out his eye. I'd need to think about better throwing weapons—maybe a sling?
I grabbed my sword, stood, and jogged down to the trail. Dlinnyy was spitting blood, trying to roll over. Filin lay still.
I circled them and drove the blade into Filin's temple. His body twitched faintly—he'd been faking.
Energy reserve: 65/1000
Dlinnyy grabbed my leg. A knife flashed in his hand. I stomped on his armed hand, snapping fingers, and dropped my knee onto his chest.
"How many in the squad? How many in your group?" I asked coldly.
"Go to hell!" he gurgled, and I nodded silently. The sword slid under his chin. He jerked twice and went limp.
Energy reserve increased.
Energy reserve: 72/1000
Say what you will, their mental conditioning was solid. That's the second one to brush off my questions in the face of death. Credit to their leader—I'd need to keep that in mind. Or was it just stupidity? Everyone wants to live, I know that. What pumped them up so much? Promised immortality? Idiots…
I stood easily and glanced toward the group ahead.
"Son of a bitch!" I muttered, spotting a faint greenish glow of a tunnel transition a couple kilometers away.