Zhaire leisurely strolled through the ruins that had once been Minneapolis. It had been another successful supply run. Not only had they found more supplies, such as food and camping gear, but they had also hit the jackpot. The outdoor store also had many firearms, primarily hunting rifles and shotguns. At first, he had been concerned that firearms wouldn’t be a thing anymore, but he had been pleasantly surprised to find a small armory worth of functioning weapons. He wondered why the system all encouraged them to fight using swords and sorcery instead of just giving them guns. Imri would probably know, but it was guns over swords until he had a compelling reason not to use them.

On the topic of Imri, Zhaire had also secured the items he requested. Teresa was carrying a small backpack full of the most expensive-looking jewelry he could find. It was likely millions of dollars worth of diamonds, silver, and several other precious stones and metals; hopefully, that would be enough to keep the enchanter busy for a while.

In addition to the supplies, they had a few cores among their loot, an Azala patrol foolish enough to attack their group without reinforcements. Zhaire had made short work of them while the rest of the group had distracted them. He had even gained a level, bringing his current level to 10. Zhaire was now confident he was in better shape than he had been as an aspiring pro athlete. He had stayed in good condition after his injury, but that was relative to the general population. Whatever steps he had lost, he had regained thanks to the system.

They were nearing the city's edge, only a half kilometer from the boundary between urban and forest, when a figure burst through the tree line, racing towards them. A moment later, a half-dozen Chixel came into view, pursuing the lone human. Zhaire sprinted towards the man, soon realizing the man in question was Imri. The Chixel in hot pursuit were not the so-called defectors; at least, Zhaire didn’t think they were. He had to admit he struggled to tell them apart.

Zhaire wasn’t sure if Imri would make it to them in time. He watched in horror as Chixel overtook Imri, the lead Chixel jabbing a spear that seemed destined to skewer the mage through the back. Instead, the spear hit nothing but air as Imri vanished. It took a moment for Zhaire to realize where he was. The mage had teleported twenty or so meters closer to Zhaire and his party, now easily capable of reaching him before his pursuers caught him. It also took the surprised Chixel a moment to regather themselves as they scanned for the mage. They also came to the same conclusion, noticing Zhaire approaching.

The Chixel, to their credit, didn’t flee. Instead, they braced themselves for a charge. However, they were ill-prepared for the type of fight they now found themselves in. Zhaire pulled up, took out one of his newly acquired weapons, a bolt action hunting rifle of some variety, and fired. Zhaire was far from a sharpshooter, having only fired a gun several times in his life. However, the Chixel stood stationary, only twenty meters away. An easy shot, even for an amateur shooter like himself. The lead Chixel fell, shot through the chest. His companions stopped, staring at their comrade in shock before another shot rang out. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, and Zhaire laughed in glee. The remaining Chixel turned and ran, and Zhaire picked off a third before they reached the forest cover.

The victory felt hollow to Zhaire as if he hadn’t earned it. The system seemed to agree with him, he hadn’t gained much experience for the kills and his quest hadn’t progressed. Still, he would gladly trade bullets for cores any day of the week.

Zhaire walked up to the mage, who was breathing hard from the brief chase. He signaled for the others to harvest the cores while he figured out what the hell was going on.

“The camp… It was attacked,” Imri stammered as he managed to catch his breath. How low was his stamina if that short run got him that winded? Despite clearly not being in shape, the man knew to stand up straight, hands on head.

“How bad was it?” Zhaire asked.

“Not good. There were too many to fight, but a few people died trying,” Imri explained.

“I see; well, that’s unfortunate,” Zhaire said, knowing they couldn't do anything.

“It was just an hour ago; if we hurry after them, we can catch them whenever they decide to camp for the night,” Imri said.

Zhaire felt for the man. He was clearly besotted with the busty nurse and even seemed to care about those other Chixel. Sadly, Zhaire had to shake his head. “Sorry, Imri. I know you care for those people, but there’s nothing we can do for them,” Zhaire said.

“The hell there isn’t,” Imri said loudly, the rest of the group stopping their harvesting to look at them.

“What do you want us to do? If there were too many for the rest of the camp, then I don’t see what half a dozen people can do,” Zhaire pointed out. He knew Imri was smart; if he were acting like his normal rational self, he would have conceded the point instantly. However, he wasn’t his normal self; he was a love-struck puppy who would do anything to get his girlfriend back. He even dared to get right up into Zhaire’s face.

“I never took you for a coward,” Imri challenged. Before Zhaire could even think, his fist moved, striking Imri in the jaw, not hard enough to break anything but hard enough that the stunned mage crumpled to the ground.

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“Don’t you dare call me a fucking coward,” Zhaire shouted over the prone man. Imri rubbed at his jaw, looking up at Zhaire. Zhaire noticed his eyes weren’t defiant or angry but contained tears from frustration and helplessness. Zhaire started muttering to himself, “I am not my father. Keep it together, Zhaire.”

“We have to do something. There has to be something,” the grief-stricken mage started muttering.

“I know you're upset and genuinely sorry for your loss, but I’m not throwing my life away for people I barely know. That doesn’t make me a coward, and you know that,” Zhaire said as he stood over Imri, offering him a hand to help him up.

“I can feel her fear, feel how scared she is. I won’t leave her to die, no matter what,” Imri said, tears welling up. He rubbed at his face to hide the tears, slowly getting back to his feet with Zhaire’s assistance.

“I can tell you really care for her,” Teresa said as she injected herself into the conversation. “But wouldn’t she want you to live, to not throw your life away pointlessly?”

“Could you let someone you care for be slaughtered like livestock? Worse even, have their immortal soul torn apart to be used as a battery,” Imri said.

“Honestly, I’d probably be doing the same thing you're doing now,” Zhaire empathized. “But it would be just as foolish.”

“What about the guns? Surely half a dozen people armed with modern weapons can take some lizards with spears and short swords?” Imri pointed out.

“There are exactly two of us who have ever used a gun, and that’s counting me, who had fired a gun only a few times before today. I was only able to gun them down because we were in the middle of an interstate. In the forest, where they would be up close or behind cover, I’m probably better off with my sword,” Zhaire explained.

“If you’re not going to help, then I’ll just have to go after them myself,” Imri said as he turned to leave. Zhaire debated physically restraining the man, but he knew that would be pointless when the man could teleport. He just had to hope that Imri would come to his senses before it was too late. As he was leaving, a notification entered Zhaire’s mind.

New Quest Progress Reward Rescue Captives Rescue the humans captured by the Chixel before they are sacrificed to Ulzo. 0/34 XP, Achievement with rank dependent on the number of people saved and contribution to saving them.

Even the damned system was trying to help Imri, tempting Zhaire with additional stats gained for rendering aid. It made Zhaire consider helping but still didn’t tip the balance. Stats wouldn’t be useful to a dead man, which was still the most likely outcome.

“Hold up,” Zhaire said, regretting it as soon as he spoke. Imri looked at him expectantly while everyone else looked at him like he was crazy. He probably was a little bit crazy. “I’ll help if you can devise a better plan than fighting an army. I’m the brawn; you’re supposed to be the brain.”

Zhaire could tell Imri was deep in thought, his brows furrowed. Finally, he seemed to come to some conclusion as he excitedly spoke. “Rhesk, we have to get them away from the group,” Imri said.

“Rhesk…Isn’t that one of those Chixel?” Zhaire asked, vaguely recognizing the name though not knowing anything about the strange Chixel. In truth he didn’t know much about any of them, he hadn’t paid them much mind except for the pair that had gone with him on the hunting expedition.

“Exactly. They were the leader, not Ettes,” Imri said excitedly.

“So what?”

“So, that was the reason the Chixel raid was conducted. They were there to get Rhesk, not to capture us. If we can rescue them, the raiders would likely abandon our people to get Rhesk back or, at the very least, divide their forces,” Imri explained.

“And how do you know that?” Zhaire asked.

“From what I know of Chixel society, Exalted is a title for nobility, like lord or lady. The commander is taking our people to be sacrificed as a sort of secondary objective, and even that seemed to be to teach Rhesk a lesson.”

“Suppose all this is true; that still doesn’t make it any easier to free this Rhesk. We’ll still need a way to save them,” Zhaire pointed out.

“I should be able to manage that once my mana recovers,” Imri said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t confident.

Zhaire just shrugged. If Imri’s plan to save the Exalted Chixel failed, it would be no loss to him. If it worked, he could potentially get a new achievement while having the mage owe him a debt. It seemed like a gamble worth taking, as long as he wasn’t the one making the suicidal rescue attempt.

“If we help you with this, you will owe me,” Zhaire said, vocalizing his thoughts.

“Of course,” Imri replied without hesitation.

“Lead the way,” Zhaire said, not bothering to check with the others. He knew they would follow his lead. Imri pointed in the direction he had come from, and they all took off at a light jog. They continued at this pace for an hour, though their speed decreased once they entered the stone forest. Imri ran out of stamina first, while Zhaire’s own was still nearly full. The pace slowed to a slow walk as they allowed the mage to recover his stamina. Despite his low stamina, Zhaire noticed he chugged down a blue vial to recover his mana. Whatever his plan involved, it would certainly require a near-full mana pool.

Despite moving at a snail's pace, Imri informed them they were still closing the distance; the Chixel were herding the prisoners after all. So, they continued at the current pace, as Imri reassured them they would intercept well before the Chixel reached their destination, which Imri said was the strange black temple that he had first discovered. Eventually, it grew dark, and Imri declared that the Chixel were only a few hundred meters ahead of them, camping for the night.

“Why are we stopping then?” Zhaire asked as the mage suggested they camp for the night.

“I’m going to need all the mana I can get,” Imri pointed out. Zhaire nodded, and his group made camp for the night.