Chapter 7
*** Daimon's group***
When Era awoke, she looked around and wondered aloofly. The rest of last night was a blurry memory. She remembered only vaguely what had happened to her. Somehow there was no pain, and there was no sensation in her soul that she would have expected. It was as if she had been dreaming.
Daimon sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. His eyes were closed, his lips were compressed painfully, and sweat beaded on his pale face. Era examined herself and understood everything. She's covered in blood, but not a single scratch on her body.
He had an ability that they preferred not to talk about. An ability to take away any diseases and injuries, as long as the creature was still alive. This ability was not to be used unless it was critically necessary. Such as it is now.
Era couldn't hold back her tears and hugged him. She had no idea what he was going through. Gratitude for taking such a step, guilt for the pain he was going through because of her, compassion - it all came out in tears. And when Daimon smiled at her and patted her on the head, with his usual 'it'll be all right, don't worry,' the stream turned into a full-flowing river.
Finally, she more or less calmed down and gently pulled away.
"Where's Bryce?" He wasn't in the cabin, though his backpack is in the corner.
"He went to find out about the situation," Daimon said tiredly. "When he gets back, we can figure out what to do next. I'm not sure I'll be able to walk properly for the next couple of days, we don't have any more potions."
"I don't care about potions, we can buy more. But we won't be able to find a new you anywhere else."
"And there's no need to seek, I'm the one and only."
Era was piercingly sad that Daimon, in such a deplorable state, was trying to make a joke. She was just about to say what she thought of it when he raised his hand warningly.
"Era. Before you start pitying me and suffering the way we've all been treated, I'll remind you of one important thing. Yes, it was a very bad day, but it was not the last. We are professional adventurers. Our life is a constant risk and a struggle for life. I need your shoulder to lean on, not pity and guilt. Leave it to the commoners."
Of course, he was right, she understood that. The higher an adventurer's rank, the less space there is in his life for useless feelings like pity or fear. Those who cannot understand this simple truth have never risen above copper or iron, or perished.
But even knowing this, she couldn't accept the fact that they would just have to accept what had happened and go on living as if nothing had happened.
"Daimon, you're... You're right. Thank you for what you did. But I can't just accept what happened and your sacrifice. I'm gonna get back at those bastards, no matter what it takes."
Daimon snorted.
"That's a good mindset. And believe me, you're not the only one who wants revenge. But there's a problem. We're too weak against such an enemy, you know? Trying revenge now would only amuse him."
"So we're going to get stronger. Remember when I said we were taking too many risks and that I doubted we had a future? I take it back. I'm not going down that road, and I won't let you. We'll get stronger, we'll find this asshole and he'll pay for everything."
"Oh, that fire in your eyes, I've missed it for the last year. It's good to see you like that again." He wiggled his leg and grimaced. "Back to the point. There's blood all over the house, and while it's hot and we need to get it cleaned up before the flies and the heat do their work. I told you before, we're here for a couple of days at best."
Era helped him to lie down on the bed and began scraping the floor. It wasn't easy, the blood didn't wash off the chopped wood, and she had to go outside to the well several times. The well was literally ten paces from the house. The people she met avoided her, tried to disappear at her sight, and that was a good thing. Not that she blamed them for not intervening to help them yesterday. But she didn't want to see or talk to them at all.
Bryce came in at dinnertime when only a few dark stains on the floor and a door that had been torn off its hinges reminded of what had happened. Era was just changing Daimon's bandages and wiping him with a damp towel.
"Hearing those groans, I thought there was something more interesting going on..." He dodged a bloody rag. "My bad, that was a bad joke."
"What did you find out?" Era looked at him angrily.
"Quite a few things. First of all, those guys who gave us trouble. Turns out they've been at it for years. Slave hunters. Once every six months, they go through the villages and take one or two people they like, mostly girls, but sometimes young boys too. No one ever hears about them again. I guess things aren't going well for them. The locals aren't enthusiastic, and even seem to have tried to put up resistance. In that village where we were supposed to go out first. It ended sadly, good thing they got the kids out of there first."
"So we're even lucky." Era stated gloomily.
"Sort of. I don't have the guts to say it myself, though."
"Is that all?"
"Oh, no, that's the preface. The fun part is next. Anyway, this Akuro, or whatever his name is, drove on this morning. Picked up, by the way, that girl that woman was worried about. And about an hour ago, that girl returned to the village, in the company of almost two dozen other girls from other villages."
"What?" Daimon and Era asked in chorus.
"I tell you, here's where it gets interesting. Anyway, Akuro and his men were attacked by a gang of goblin-like creatures, only as tall as a human, or even larger. The prisoners don't know the details. They did not see anything from the cages. But they remembered that first the carts stopped, and then there was fighting and shouting. When the tent was pulled down from their holdings, they saw our old friends tied up. These goblins dragged them out of their cages, piled them up, and then just left them alone. The poor girls expected anything, any kind of horror, but they simply dismantled the carts on a plank, the cages on a twig, and left. They took the captive soldiers and the horses."
"That sounds a bit fabulous." Era snorted a bit skeptical. "So a gang of overgrown goblins overpowered Akuro and his men, freed the slaves, and left without charging for their rescue."
"For what I bought, for what I sold. This is the version all the girls adhere to. Not word for word, but in general they all say the same thing. And that little brat they asked us to take away from here, she also talked to their ringleader. His name is Jay-Gul, something like that. When he tried to get her out of the cage, which, by the way, he broke with his bare hands, she bit him in fright. He did not seem to take offense. She said that Jay-Gul was a great man and a noble knight. And that he had a boss of his own."
"It doesn't even make sense." Daimon hummed thoughtfully.
Goblins are small, vicious creatures. In general, they can be considered intelligent, they even have their own primitive culture. Among other aspects, this culture includes ritual torture and the eating of other sentient beings. And assuming that these creatures have gathered enough strength to overpower Akuro and his soldiers, it is still possible. But... Released prisoners?
"They're definitely not goblins, I think the girl must be mistaken." Said Era. "Maybe some other kind of monster, I don't know. If goblins had the power to fight that bastard, they'd have killed all the people here a long time ago."
"That's what I thought, too." Said Bryce. "Anyway, monsters like that are a real threat. We don't know anything about them, except that they're strong enough to overpower the swordmaster and his underlings. Who's going to hold them back if they decide to be the bad guys?"
"I'd like to talk to that girl myself." Daimon stretched out thoughtfully. "I need more information. If there really are monsters out there, then the Guild must send a cleanup party to wipe them out before they become a real threat."
"Well, we promised to take her anyway, so I don't think there will be a problem with that. Mind you, the kid sees the situation differently than we do. If she understands that we're not going to be friends with suspicious monsters, she might not want to help."
"How did the locals take the news?"
"Differently... Some are glad that Akuro is gone but are afraid that he'll come back and it'll be worse. There are those who don't like the fact that new mouths have arrived, though no one is going to push them out. One old man blurted out that Akuro was defending these lands and everyone would be fucked without him, and he almost got beaten to death. I can tell that everyone is worried about the rise of a new unknown force."
All three of them were silent, pondering.
"It's all bullshit, leader." Bryce interrupted the silence. "I'll get the girl and you figure it out yourself. I'm thinking of going to the scene to see if I can find any clues. How are you?"
"I'll be fine. I just need a couple of days to rest."
"Era, what about you?"
"I'm fine, Bryce. It was a bad adventure, but I'm okay now. Now we have to patch up Daimon, get to the Guild, finish the job, and get a new one."
"You aren't going to retire already, huh."
"Not until I've gutted the bastard."
"Ha, I'll be holding him at that moment. Well, guys, then I'll go get Annika and run over to the 'battlefield'. It's not too far away."
"Okay." Daimon waved his hand.
***Talik***
When Talik heard the results of the fight, he was very pleased. The level system, though it looked strange in reality, to say the least, was similar to what he was used to from the game. The level 30 orcs that Warboss had sent had defeated the bandits without any problems (Talik no longer doubted their social affiliation).
Talik remembered how the head of the orcs had urged him personally to go on the mission, or at least to send the strongest of his subordinates. The idea of why Talik would insist on the weakest did not immediately make sense to him, if at all. Talik also didn't like the Warboss' attitude about the fact that he would have to interact with the elfess. The orc wrinkled and snorted as Talik explained to him how to get to the site.
At first, Talik thought to pretend he hadn't noticed, but then something in him burst out. He asked the orc directly.
"Warboss, I see that you are not happy. What's the problem?"
He thought about it for a long time, but then answered in an unexpectedly succinct manner.
"Prophet, I feel humiliated. Orcs have always served you with all their heart. Always carry out your orders on their own. I never thought we would have to rely on the Elves and their magic. Your distrust of us is painful to me."
Talik was at first confused. He didn't immediately find the words that seemed right to him.
"Warboss, you've got it all wrong. I don't distrust you." It was a blatant lie; not only did he not trust him, he was openly afraid of his 'servants'. But he didn't say that out loud. "It's a matter of speed. I don't want to take too long to get to know the world, and it would take a long time for your boys to get there on their own. I don't want you to work together because you are unable to do something. It's just that working together will get you a much better result than if everyone is doing everything on their own. Also, the strongest of those people should definitely be taken alive. That's very important. And if your fighters cut him to pieces, the elves won't let him die too soon. Do you understand?"
"I will try to understand it, Prophet. Forgive my shortcomings."
Warboss didn't look convinced at that moment, but at least he stopped showing so much frustration on his face. Talik didn't pry further into his heart.
Here are the problems, Talik thought at the moment. Elves and Orcs are always fighting. It would be very nice to avoid that. How is that even possible, he wondered?
And now, when Talik was informed of the skirmish, he rejoiced wholeheartedly. So was Warboss, who was bowing in front of his office table. Talik had forbidden them to kneel, it was too embarrassing. Bowing was embarrassing, too, but not as much.
"Did you free those who had been held captive by these people? Were there no problems?"
Talik already knew that they got to the village without any problems - stalkers of Illadria had tracked it. But he wanted to know what the orc thought.
"The head of the warband says that one of them asked to escort them to the village and invited them to visit, but that was not part of the order."
"Wow, I thought they'd be scared."
"That's the way it was, Prophet. One kid quickly realized we weren't a threat at the moment and pestered the boys with questions."
"What does he think about it?"
"He's a little worried about the child's future. He says she has a brave heart."
Talik was pleased to hear that. If the child tried to talk, it means that contact without the use of force is quite possible. It would be necessary to build on this success.
"Okay. I'd like to talk to him on occasion. What about the people you captured?"
"Nineteen men, one of them a weak sorcerer, tried to hide among their own prisoners. We have dug several pits for them. There they await your sentence."
The word 'sentence' scratched Talik's heart. No one had appointed him a judge, no one had given him the right to do so. He didn't feel he had the right to decide anyone's fate. He was still haunted by doubts as to what to do. And his order to capture the prisoners he saw as an unreasonable arbitrariness. On the other hand, there were no police to whom this responsibility could be shifted. And with any possibility of doing something about it, he was unwilling to let a gang of murderers and rapists walk free. It was against everything he believed in.
"I heard there were more than twenty of them?"
"I have no excuses, Prophet." The orc bent under the weight of guilt. "Two did not survive the fight. The boys brought their bodies."
"Don't worry so much." Talik has already learned not to panic in such cases. "Everything is according to plan. You go to your quarters, I'll be there in a few hours to talk to the prisoners. The dead will be needed for the experiments."
"I'll have everything ready for your visit." The orc muttered and left the office.
Draga, who until now had remained silent, asked.
"Let me express my admiration for your plan. I only now understand the depth of your plan. You have tested the power of enemies and allies, captured prisoners, material for experiments, a native wizard, and discovered whether the natives are capable of seeing your servants as more than enemies. Now I understand why you would not let me personally destroy them all."
"Well, that's pretty much it, yeah..." Reluctantly, Talik agreed.
In fact, of all the above, he thought only of a test of force and didn't want to burden his conscience. The rest came out on its own. He looked back at Draga, who was still in a respectful bow.
Yesterday he found a way to get rid of this obsession with worship. More precisely, he found out one of the reasons why all the former NPCs of the guild reacted to him that way. It was a shame to realize it so late, but better so than never. It was all about auras with passive effects. Once he was at level 90, they began to consume such a minuscule amount of mana that he stopped turning off their effects altogether. Their consumption was not even partially covered by regeneration. [Aura of purity], [Zeal], [Holy patronage] - they gave a permanent positive effect, small but with a very wide range. In the game, nothing special for top-17 cluster support. But here his auras literally drove those around him crazy. When he turned off the effects, the 'vassals' began to behave much more appropriately. They could still follow his every word, but they didn't look like complete zealots.
[Message]
"Prophet, may I come in?"
"Oh, Illadria comes in of course."
She used [message] instead of knocking on the door. It was so usual for Talik that it even seemed strange. In real life, no one had knocked on doors in a long time, either. Everyone communicated through implants.
The elfess entered and bowed gracefully.
"I came to report on your assignment regarding the reconnaissance in the woods."
"That was fast." Talik smiled.
"I am so honored by your appraisal." She bowed.
***Orсs***
The orc camp, consisting of seven huge clusters of tents and hog pens. It was situated on a plain between the human farms outside the city walls and the mountain range. The smoke from the peaceful fires and hearths stretched into the sky, as it always had before.
But nothing else reminded me of the usually measured peacefulness of the camp. It hummed like a beehive, and from above it looked as if someone had stirred up a huge anthill with a stick.
Tents were moved "in line,'' the loose logs that formed paths were feverishly rearranged. The women hastily removed washed cloth from the ropes and scraped dishes to a mirror-like shine. Usually lazy tough guys shoulder-to-shoulder with the common boys were digging cesspools, tinkering with paddock fences, and renovating chicken coops. Eternal holes of chafing on leather canopies were patched. Outraged pigs, chickens, and geese were scurrying around the camp, chased with foul language by big green men.
There was a thousand-voices hubbub everywhere, in which it was difficult to separate orcish swearing from childish laughter and screeching. Occasionally there was an isolated shriek from the nobs.
"And, got it!"
"Why is there shit on the road again?! Clean it up!"
"Wai-Gol what the fuck is your tent stained! Turn it back clean! What? I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. I SAID TURN IT AROUND!"
"Whose boar is it?!"
"Calm the child!"
The orc tribes were putting things in order. Noisy, extremely traumatic, and always postponed events. The Boss said the Creator was coming. So everything must shine.
Jay-Gul, like everyone else, was imbued with the importance of the event. The Creator had been here exactly once when he'd given his creatures the right to live here. They should not have screwed up. He might step in poop or trip over a drunken body. Or the stench of unwashed feet with the foul breath from someone's tent would offend his holy person. There is no way to let that happen, and it's not even about ripping balls off afterward.
All the orcs wanted their father's praise. They wanted him to approve, to let them know that everything was right. To show that they lived by his laws and were happy.
And Jay-Gul also found out that he had drawn His attention to himself personally. That's what the Boss said, "the Creator asked for you, wants to talk to you".
Whether that was good or bad, Jay-Gul didn't know yet. It was unlikely that the most sacred being himself would call him under his very eyes to pat him on the shoulder, saying he'd done a fucking good job. More likely to give him a showy scolding. You're a fool, the raid a failure, hens shit in your tent, your wives are ugly, and you should die in shameful agony.
So as not to languish in obscurity, Jay-Gul, like everyone else, took part in fixing the probable problems. The tent was shining, the pit was covered, clothes urgently patched, feet washed, and fangs shined. Both wives had their faces painted up and received marital attention for joy in their eyes. The animals are securely penned in their pens.
Yesterday the sorceress elf had thrown them right into the camp. They didn't have to go through that creepy cemetery. They were right in front of the chief's tent. The chief bemoaned the fact that not all the prisoners were alive, estimated the loot, and praised them. They brought a lot of useful things for the farm, things that the Creator would not even look at. The chieftain had passed the responsibility for the prisoners on to someone else, and Jay-Gul sent the boys off to drink and brag with a clear conscience. After all, the first raid in the new world was on them. And it didn't matter that the enemy was weak.
He didn't think the Creator would come here in person. Indeed, what would he be doing here? The highest attention is flattering, of course, but where there's attention from superiors, there's always trouble. The bosses never bother where there are no problems. So even if there are no problems, there will be.
Finally, the bugle sounded, which could only be heard on major holidays. It was time to go. Chiefs and gods don't like to wait.
***master Akuro***
Akuro had never felt so terrible in his life. He didn't know where he was or how he got here, though, remembering the last fight, he was sure he was a prisoner. It was a deep damp pit circular one and a half meters in diameter and three meters high. On top of it was a rough grate.
He woke up from terrible aching pain in his arm and found himself without any clothes on. His whole body was bruised and his arm was wrapped tightly. His vision was doubled, he felt nauseous and dizzy. He touched his face and immediately jerked his hand away, pain piercing his face. There was nothing in the pit to look at the reflection, but there was a certainty that he would never be the handsome man he had been.
There was some noise and shouting from above but it didn't sound like anyone was fighting. He was thirsty and tried to shout upstairs in a weak voice, but no one seemed to hear.
How long is he going to suffer like this? Why was he brought here? What kind of monster was that? How to escape from here? What had happened to his men? Unanswered questions were swirling in his head, mixed with flashes of pain. All that was left was to wait.
He sat in the pit for several hours after he regained consciousness. He measured his time by the light in his pit. For a long time he hesitated, but then he had to go and urinate by the wall of the pit. At last, he heard a long high howl that turned into a wheeze. From the volume, it sounded like a wind instrument of some sort, not the voice of a living thing. At least he hoped it wasn't some beast he was going to be fed to.
The grating at the top pulled aside and two green fangy faces looked down.
Two. So there's more than one monster out there? Akuro shuddered inwardly. Such creatures shouldn't exist. Of course, they can't be as strong as the one that defeated him. But the very fact that half-humans are intelligent enough to speak, and there might be talented warriors among them... They must be exterminated. At all costs, to the root. Humanity already had enough problems with elves and godless men.
One of the creatures brought down a long stick and poked him. Akuro hissed and tried to swing away. A satisfied grunt was heard from above, and one of the freaks jumped down. Without thinking, Akuro tried to poke him in the groin with his fist, but his arm was immediately caught and snapped with a crunch. He hissed in pain but held back a scream.
The monster grabbed him by the leg with his other hand and threw him up like a doll. As he flew over the edge and fell to the ground Akuro fell into despair. There were dozens of green monsters around. With weapons of equal or better quality than Jay-Gul's. He did not get a good look at the details of the surroundings. A dusty leather sack was thrown over his head and he was dragged off at arm's length. When he tried to put his feet up to resist he received a severe blow to the liver, and they just dragged him on.
The journey was short. A minute later, he was forcefully brought to his knees and the bag was pulled off his head. Akuro quickly looked around. Apparently, he was inside a huge tent. The dressed leather over thick, sturdy supports was painted with rough but harmonious designs. A stone hearth stood in the center, and around the hearth sat several green-skinned men and two creatures that Akuro had never expected to see here.
A young boy in an incredibly expensive robe. A pathetic semblance of this cloth with printed embroidery was worn by the high priests of the Theocracy at the annual great prayer. A proper but utterly unrecognizable face - barely a glance aside, Akuro couldn't remember what it looked like.
A woman of absolutely astonishing beauty. Not the kind of beauty attributed to princesses, but rather the kind that would suit the Devil's daughter. A vicious, searing beauty, from a fleeting glance at which matures lust. She was protected by full armor, so black that the eyes watered - only her head was open. Akuro wanted her. For real. The desire to possess such a woman, to be her master, burned him.
The guy was drinking something from a rough cup and interrupted some conversation with one of the green-skinned men, not much different from the ones Akuro had seen before.
"And there's our guest." The voice suited that face very well. He was well-pitched, with an unmemorable intonation.
"I am not a guest, but a prisoner." Akuro wheezed.
'Yeah, that's true, too." The faceless man agreed. "How do I address you?"
"Akuro Bogun. And you?"
"I'm fine with 'you', no names."
"That's not very polite, You-san.' Akuro began to probe the situation.
'It doesn't matter." The faceless man gently interrupted. "You're here because I want to ask you a lot of questions."
"I will try to answer them, good sir."
Akuro knew such people well. Polite, sometimes even seemingly indecisive. Never doing anything with their own hands. And often they have great power behind them. Money, military, powerful friends. They do not accept vague answers and get easily irritated if they are pushed. It is very easy to make friends with such people if you are helpful, and very easy to quarrel with them if you disappoint them.
The way he acted he must be in charge. Akuro was relieved to see that he was probably some powerful wizard who had created dozens of monsters to be his servants. How a wizard, apparently not much inferior to the legendary Paradin, came to be here was a secondary question. How he was attracted to Akuro is a question of primary importance. You have to live up to his expectations, and then there's a chance to stay alive.
Or even make a good acquaintance. Powerful friends are always a good thing.
The faceless man asked questions, very general, that were difficult to answer briefly. There was the sensation that he was not from this continent. He knew nothing about the history of the countries, or the Church of Heroes, or the Kings of Greed, or even what countries existed here and what order they had. On the Kings and Heroes, he was especially pointed, asking very strange things. What they looked like, what servants they had. Akuro had no answer to these questions, he was a little afraid to say such things. It wasn't his fault that he didn't know the names of the Kings, but who cared? Definitely not this strange wizard.
The interrogation took hours. During that time, Akuro spilled everything he knew, even remembered things he had long forgotten. Finally, the faceless man chewed his lips thoughtfully and said.
"I guess that's all for now. Send him back." Akuro's heart fluttered with joy. "Into the pit, or wherever it was."
"Sir," pleaded Akuro. "What have I done to offend you? Tell me, I will fix it. I have satisfied your interest, do I deserve to die in the pit from festering wounds!"
"Oh," the faceless man said dryly. "You deserve so much more. But you're right about one thing."
The faceless man stood up and approached Akuro. His presence was not felt at all, as if the man simply did not exist. He whispered something, and Akuro was surprised to note that all the pain was gone at once. A moment later his body tingled pleasantly, especially in his face and at the area of his mangled arm.
"Take off the bandage," the faceless one ordered.
The green-skinned men who held his hands immediately obeyed the command. Akuro looked at his arm with some fear and was astonished. Bone was growing back literally on sight, and soft, pink-skinned flesh was rising along with it. Moments later, the hand was literally good as new. Without a blister, the skin pale pink, the nails perfectly smooth, like a well-groomed woman.
Akuro was shocked. He had heard of such magic, that the high priests of the Church of Heroes were supposedly capable of it, but he had always thought it mere speculation. He touched his face. It was perfectly intact. Even the scar on his chin from the enchanted sword years ago was gone.
The faceless man turned away and waved his hand lazily. At the same moment, a bag was thrown over Akuro's head again, and a short time later he found himself back in the pit. But now Akuro believed he would be all right. Because he knew how to be useful, and the man who interrogated him obviously likes useful people. A very, very powerful man. Akura was beginning to think he was actually lucky to be in such a jam. Such patrons were worth more than sitting in a pit.
***Talik***
Talik sat in the Warboss' tent, processing the information. The prisoner turned out to be quite knowledgeable about the local world order. He didn't cause any problems and understood at once what was wanted from him. Talik had expected that things would be much worse, that he would have to resort to torture and other abusive methods.
He was disgusted at first to listen to this man. A stubborn racist, driven by religion and the superiority of his nation over all others. It wasn't just about other races, it was about people who didn't share his faith and background. There were people with such views on life in 'real' life as well, but it led to huge wars several times. On Earth, one could easily go to prison for such views.
But there was one thing that made him different from the habitual Nazis. This in every way a bad man followed certain rules and believed in what he was doing. He was not, how to describe it, a hypocrite. Nor was he a coward, and was firm in his convictions, in his intention to defend his truth. He didn't try to deceive or pressure, to evade answers. Talik had literally been burning with a thirst for 'justice' before this conversation, and now, after talking to him, he didn't know what to do.
Well, let him sit in the pit for a while. I'll think of something later. Am I doing a bad thing? Honestly, yes. Honestly, I don't care.
This Akuro told quite a lot about the world around, but several things interested Talik the most. First, the local legendary figures. God-like and omnipotent, who reshaped the world at will. The Kings of Greed.
Talik knew them well. They were rather arrogant snobs, well versed in the game. I was a very strong guild, Talik had been hired for their raids several times, and they had even tried to recruit him for good. Their massive ego in the game was completely justified. And now they seem to have ended up here. By the local calendar, quite a long time ago, about eight hundred years ago. Not all of them, just the top ones, but this world had enough of the top eight nerds. These generally not bad guys simply destroyed civilization when they got here. Crazy from permissiveness? I guess so. From what Talik has learned from the prisoner, level 30 here is beyond the power of the vast majority. What's 30 by Yggdrasil standards? Nothing.
Talik did not know the heroes who founded this Theocracy of Slaine, nor could he remember anyone similar. Surely there must have been others, just who had left less of a mark on local history. Or maybe they were still there now, just didn't stand out. Or they would show up again.
And it's good if it's guys like Stairway to Heaven. What if they're psychopaths like AOG? What are they going to do when they come here? Redesign the world to fit their vision of how things should be? Realize ambitions from their lives? It's scary to think what such people are capable of. Who just happens to have a very specific divine power.
What could he himself become?
And there's no honest way to say that he doesn't want to change the world. The prisoner voiced things that Talik would not accept on principle. Things like the interracial war of extermination. Things like slavery. Things that in Talik's world have faded into the distant past, becoming simply lines of dry text incompatible with logic.
There are no police, no firearms, no unified law, and no means of communication in the world. In a world where the law is just a condition for violence. With power close to absolute, what will he do?
It was hard to accept. He was fine with it now, but would it continue. The slight tension between the Warboss and Illadria could well be the cause of real conflict. And this might just be the first swallow. Who knows what kind of bugs are running around in the others' heads.
And one cannot ignore the possibility that somewhere here in the world there are other powerful ones present. Local, or other players. Neither the Kings, nor the Heroes, nor any of the other 'deities' mentioned died their own deaths, one way or another. So it doesn't matter how powerful Talik is by local standards. He won't just make people live the way he wants them to. There's no law in the usual sense of the word, but he has his own views on life. And these views are strongly opposed to the attitudes that the Kings have adopted.
There was much to think about. Talik noticed that he wasn't tired at all during the interrogation, though he should have been for several hours.
"Warboss, you said there was a sorcerer. Let them bring him here, but don't take the sack off his head. Better yet, have him blindfolded."
Who knows, what if he can [message].
***Daimon's party***
"Anyway, that's all I found."
Bryce carefully laid out a rag roll on the rough wooden table. Inside was bloody flesh. It was hard to tell at first what it was.
"I suppose it must have been worth it since you brought it here? What is it?' Era clarified it doubtfully.
She hadn't had that rookie fear of blood and dismemberment for a long time. But she never learned to like it all, or even to be indifferent.
"This is a piece of the hand. You see, the fingers, and here is half a hand. There is reason to believe that this is our dear Mr. Akuro. More precisely, his hand."
Era's eyes felt like ice at the mention of that name.
"I assume this from the nails. The hand is male, but very well-groomed, especially the nails."
"I'm glad to hear that asshole is now seriously injured," Daimon informed grimly from his bed. "But I'm guessing you didn't just bring his scrap here?"
"Right. Mostly to share an observation, and perhaps to confirm it."
"What kind of observation?" Era asked tensely.
"This injury is inflicted with two exceptional factors. The first is the weapon. I know a few things about the sharpness of blades. Believe me, not every blade is capable of cutting through bone so perfectly. In one fell swoop, without crumbling or crumpling, just snapping."
"And the second one?"
"And the second is an equally exceptional skill. The cut is perfect not only in terms of the sharpness of the weapon. It went completely straight... How shall I phrase it? When you make a slashing blow, your hand somehow tucks the blade, and it goes a bit at an angle. But not in this case. To make a long story short, our mutual acquaintance was in a bind with a far more skilled fighter."
"So, what do we have here?" Daimon summed it up. "Mighty goblins, taller than a man. Armed with fabulously sharp weapons. At least one of them is tough enough to defeat a swordmaster in hand-to-hand combat."
"Yeah. And there's not a single predator or scavenger within a mile. That arm's been there most of the day. Did you talk to the girl?"
"Yes." Era grudgingly stretched out. "She told me exactly what you told me, only with a little more detail. She really does believe those monsters are friends. She refuses to go, despite her mother's insistence. She says she promised this 'Uncle Jay-Gul' that she'd be expecting him to visit. She doesn't seem crazy she sincerely believes in the goodness of monsters, and her sanity is beyond question. But the only way to get her out of here is by force, and I don't think that's a good idea. One thing I can say is that I've had enough adventures in this damned forest, and I don't want to get involved in another story. Let the Guild deal with it."
"I know what you mean," Bryce agreed. "I talked to the locals, and they're willing to sell us a wagon and a horse. If you're willing to spend five coins on the transport, we can get out of here today.
"Isn't that a lot, five coins?" Era raised an eyebrow.
"Well, they didn't come to that number right away. At first, they did not agree at all, because there are three horses in the village, and the money can only be spent very far away from here."
"Fair enough. All right, I'm in. Daimon, what do you say?"
"I'll tell you, I don't really want to sit here and wait for an invasion of unknown monsters. We didn't get paid for it, especially since if someone defeated Akuro then we certainly don't stand a chance. Leave a coin on top for the headman's kindness."
"As you say, leader."
Bryce left to make arrangements. Era was tending to Daimon, and doubts crept into her soul. Against all reason, she wanted at least to see those who had unwittingly avenged them. Even if they were monsters. And also, there was something of rebellion in this desire. Against the Theocracy's dogma of human supremacy, and against the dogma of the Baharuth Empire and the Kingdom of Re-Estis. Could it be that monsters with which one could find common ground existed? They'll get to the Guild and file the evidence, and a really strong clean-up team could very well be headed here. Kill all the 'goblins' without figuring out what the truth is, just because they might be dangerous. Is it wise, is it dignified to attack those who might just be a threat in the future?
She wasn't sure.
***Talik***
The interrogation of the second man, who called himself a healer, stumped Talik. Unlike the last one, this one had no sense of dignity at all, and most of the time he whined for mercy. Only the direct threat of execution forced him to take things more responsibly.
Guild of Adventurers. Tanks, mages, healers, roughs. Quests and rewards.
God, what idiocy is this? Talik was in some kind of shock. These are attributes of the game, they cannot exist outside of the game. The adventurer's guild is a tool for game designers to easily manage the game. A way to bring players' interests together in a more or less predictable way. A way to quickly get information to new players about the events. A way to reduce and simplify the least interesting elements of quests.
This is not something that could exist in reality. Even though levels and combat skills may well have existed here, but still.
The Guild of Adventurers is an independent organization of people without obligation to the government. Strong men with weapons who are not vassals. What idiot would allow such an organization to exist under his side? It turns out that there were such idiots, and there were many of them.
Of all the countries he had learned of today, only the policies of the Baharuth Empire seemed reasonable to him. The Emperor, who had recently come to power, had not abolished the traditional guild. Simply reassigned to the professional military the tasks the guild normally performed. Started recruiting prominent members of the guild.
He's an uncommonly rational man, Talik noted to himself. We should have a chat one day.
But on the whole, the existence of such a guild made everything much easier, from passive information gathering to concrete espionage and more. Indeed, it was enough to have an adventurer's badge to be allowed into any city without any problems. You don't have to report to anyone, you do what you want. It's perfect. You can deploy a network of any orientation.
Wilhelm would surely be happy to provide candidates for the 'adventurers'. And Talik himself would need to get to know the local elites. High-ranking adventurers were considered some of the most powerful people in the world.
It is interesting, what keeps them from taking all the power? Clearly, everything was not so simple.
Talik's soul became light and pleasant. This was the way to look at the world without creating problems for himself or others. Silly and naive as it may be, but if it's okay here, why not?
The guy being interrogated even evoked some sympathy. A little younger than Talik, guided by fairy tales, he was in a difficult position and got a very shitty choice. What to do? In a good way, he could have been let go, but now he 'knew too much', as it was said. Talik thought and spoke.
"You helped me, and you didn't do anything wrong in general. I don't want to make trouble for you. But I can't let you go either. Tell me, what would you want, besides freedom?'
The guy winced.
"Sir, I... I wanted to become strong, important, and useful, but I didn't get any of it... Have mercy on me, please, I will do anything you say..."
"You don't understand the question. I'm asking, what do you want, assuming you don't go home anytime soon?"
"I... Sir, can I learn from you? You are very strong, I understand that, and such mighty monsters serve you. You would never be in my situation. I want to learn from you."
The question stumped Talik. Well, what can he, just a spell user, teach someone? Here's an idea, though.
" I will not teach you myself. But I know a powerful mage who might be willing to do it. Mind you, if you agree, you will have to overstep some of your principles... If you have any."
"I am ready, sir! Whatever you say!'
"Good. I don't want to hear any whining later. Draga, I want you to take the other prisoners and this guy to Marius."
"I will do everything, Prophet." She bowed respectfully.
[message]
"Marius, are you busy right now?"
"I'm trying to teach these stupid vampires not to play chess so predictably."
"And how's that going?"
"It's miserable and humiliating, Prophet."
"Draga will come to you soon, and she'll bring men from the locals. Your task is to teach one of them something. I know it's a vague definition, but try to find talent in him for at least some of what you know."
"I would be honored, Prophet. What about the others?" The lich inquired predatorily.
"Anything you can think of. Anything that might require live or not-so-live test subjects."
These men were outlaws, and for many of them, there was a state bounty. Technically, by killing them (or rather, by entrusting it to someone else), Talik was not breaking the law. In fact, despite the fact that they were outright criminals, it was hard for Talik to decide that they should die. Well, Talik, here's your first deal with your conscience...