30

“Why did you bring those two along?” Anna leaned against a gray oak and looked down on Vanessa as she cared for Vander. “You know who she is, right? And that boy!”

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you so upset,” Dom grumbled as he picked meat out of his teeth with a thin bone. “The duke said she was the only one I could bring, aside from you two holy heads. The voyagers wouldn’t let us on without a fifth, and the Tamaranth boy stands out like a sore thumb when he’s not in the southern lands. But that’s not the only reason. He’s a good rival for the young master. Maybe if they become friends young, they won’t carry the bad blood of their families into the next generation.”

A subtle twitch of the eye and a tugging of the lip clued Domivick into the true feelings the woman felt. He let her have the time she needed to calm. When she did, she crossed her arms and licked her lips. “I don’t like it. The disgusting vial she’s carrying reeks of Blight. Whoever gave it to her really knew their business, but—”

“So you sensed it too?” Dom interrupted. He sent the young master a soft look before turning back to one of his oldest friends. “He’s incredible. I wonder if Duke Braxton knew how incredible his lovechild with Katya would be when he left behind the family to escape The Mad God and Maldus’ wrath.”

“Doubt that he’d have fled from Varoth if that were the case. More resources to back him and the young master’s growth in the family, even with that lost god’s rage. The Braxtons aren’t so simple to fall to one angry god,” she sneered. The thought of The Mad God forcing the duke to flee for Vander’s sake and so he didn’t draw attention to the Braxton house when Katya had been lost in childbirth always set her blood on fire. “They made land on Ainos, Domivick. The time comes where the young master will be forced to fight against the reaper that’s loomed over his shoulders his whole life.”

“He’ll be ready. With us here, there’s no way the cultists of the lost god would stand against us and win.” The sleeping figure of Vander drew his attention once more. “An incredible feat we’re witnessing, ey?”

“If he returns in one piece, I’ll give you that much,” she muttered, skepticism oozing from her words and showing her true nature.

“A truly jaded life you’ve lived, Anna. Can’t imagine what you’ve experienced to make you so negative and Fallon so positive all the time, but I imagine you’ve seen things I’m better off remaining ignorant about,” Dom said. He eyed the girl out of the corner of his vision. “You’ll be alright, you hear? Whatever it is that haunts you can’t reach you here.”

Truthfully, if Anna got her mind under control, she’d be one of the strongest people he knew, but she had a few snags that needed some ironing out in order to fully blossom into the responsibility she carried around with all that power. Were it not for that, she’d rank higher than even him in terms of raw power.

But he’d never known a fanatic to have their head screwed on proper.

“Aye.” The informal response cued him into the end of their sudden conversation.

Dom didn’t like to stew in his thoughts long and departed without another word. The scouting they’d done thus far had taken them to the edge of the fourth layer, of which The Snarl consisted of five with a central mountain that the so-called Monarchs called home.

Adrian’s hint hadn’t been lost on Dom, and with the help of the others, he’d begun to fulfill the obligatory request they’d taken as a guise to come to Ainos and get their clearance for Ainos’ colonization. He’d never fancied himself much of an artist, so rather than try to make the shittiest map anybody would ever see, he noted down paces in an enchanted notebook that created more pages while remaining the same size with just a bit of mana imbued.

Currently, his notes only scouted this side of the mountain. Detailed as could be, he made sure he took his time. To keep his permit for colonization valid, he’d require constant reports like the one he’d make after the boy woke up… and after they finally made their way to the central mountain.

There was something there Vander would need. Whatever it was, Dom didn’t know yet, but the thought of moving closer to the monarchs’ territories both excited him in ways he hadn’t experienced since he’d been a greenhorn and filled his stomach with a sinking dread.

Monarchs didn’t grow as strong as they did by pure virtue of resources. They were wise in a way most men weren’t and powerful enough to hold their territory and keep the title of monarch to themselves. But even if indirect, an order from his one and only lord was worth putting his life on the line for. He’d done it before, and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t until the day his duty claimed his life.

And from the feeling he got from that mountain peak cresting over even the tallest of the ancient oaks, that time would likely come sooner than later. He’d made peace with his life and had no regrets, so if his time came, then so be it. He’d do whatever he could for the successor of the great Braxton family.

So without further thought on the matter, Dom scribbled across the pages as his killing intent kept the third and fourth layers’ predators away from his measured paces and careful note-taking.

***

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Vander couldn’t help but notice how that last part was phrased, how it was delivered. Things had changed between them. The villagers eyed the wound on his shoulder and his sword as if he’d attack them at any second, distrust and fear clinging to their whole being like a cloud of bad vibes. It’s come to this, then. He turned his eyes over the damage to the village and beyond. Through the forest to the mountains that led beyond. If only they knew it’s not even a question. “I’ll go, but I’ve got to gather some things first.”

The villagers were tense and seemed uneasy in his presence. An unease he couldn’t contribute solely to the attack. Relieved faces could be seen all around, but he couldn’t figure out whether they were happy to see him go or if they were happy that he was leaving to save the other villagers.

“Will there be anybody else coming with me?” he called, eyeing each of them.

The villagers looked at each other, then away, but nobody immediately stepped forward. He waited a whole minute for a volunteer, but all he received in return was averted gazes and guilty looks. Before any of them had time to come up with excuses, he waved his hands. He figured he’d offer, but he didn’t want any of them with him. This just got rid of the chances of having a straggler follow after him in some righteous attempt to be a hero.

“So be it. I’ll take care of things by myself.”

“You d-d-don’t know h-how much this m-means…” Tobias stuttered, but he refused to meet Vander’s eyes. “But I’ll be honest with you, I don’t know what you can do. The talismans still work and keep the beasts out, and if you kill them—we should’ve just done what they asked! Everything would’ve been fine, even if we had to sacrifice—”

“Stop talking if you want to keep your tongue,” Vander growled, his stare sharper than his sword.

Tobias seemed to collect himself, nodding several times as he fiddled with his hands. “Without the talismans, I’m afraid we won’t be able to defend ourselves from the monsters that come down from the mountains or roam the forest. I’ve asked a lot of you already, but—”

“I’ve already hunted the monsters in the forest. Did that before I came here.” He’d even sensed the magic in the talismans a while back, but he’d been unable to identify the subtle magic within. To find out it was Miasma made him wonder just how many people had died from their presence alone. “Get rid of all the talismans and then seek shelter until I return.”

One last thing before he went. Vander pointed toward where he’d lived during his stay. “Will you take care of Stubborn?”

Even if the beast was just a part of the scenario at play, which he didn’t think that to be the case after meeting all the people and seeing Archmage Findelson, the Witch and Madison, or the deities, he’d grown fond of the old ox. He wouldn’t make a trip into the waiting dangers of the lands beyond the village, nor would he likely survive the excitement of battle. That left only one option, and Vander had to hope that the villagers would take care of the old ox and be kind to him.

If the villagers wouldn’t care for his trusty ox…

“We will,” Tobias responded, nodding before turning to the other villagers who caught the cue and started to nod as well. “It’s the least we can do.”

Vander pursed his lips and rolled his shoulder. It still ached, but not so much he couldn’t deal. The biggest worry was the potential to aggravate the injury and maybe tear open the wound or give away his scent with the thick smell of blood that lingered. But if that gave him away, he doubted he’d be able to hide himself at all. The hounds the orcs rode had keen senses of smell and would alert whoever waited, one way or another.

Thinking about the days of plowing with the ox, he smiled. He’d miss the beast. That’s one problem solved at least. He felt a bit of tension ease off of his shoulders. The trusty ox had been his companion since the day he arrived. He was happy the villagers would take care of him, but Vander knew he was going to miss the beast. A good companion, that he was. A friend when I didn’t have anyone else.

“When will you leave?” Tobias asked, eyeing Vander’s family sword coated in blood.

Vander couldn’t help but notice the lack of warmth in the village chief’s words. Is he really so quick to distrust me? Even after fighting off all the raiders and Blighted snake? Does he even care for those who were taken?

Sympathetic glances shot his way, but he couldn’t help eyeing all of them with pity. Their lives were pitiful. If he hadn’t been reborn with Artemis’ body and Adrian as a father, then he might’ve ended up the same way.

Who am I kidding? A world of magic where I still had access to the lightning element? Not likely I’d settle down anytime soon, he thought. Then the thought of his last two lives, passing near-instantly at the hands of the Zealots, reminded him of what he’d paid for this third life of his, the third reincarnation and his last chance.

Pulled from his thoughts, Vander took stock once more, trying to buy time and ease the weariness of his body. There was distrust brewing underneath the surface, in the way they stood far from him and positioned away as if they’d need to run in a split second. As much as he wanted to, Vander couldn’t blame any of the villagers for their behavior. Simple people in a simple place, unfamiliar with the ways of self-defense and power.

“I’ll miss life here,” he muttered, then his eyes hardened. “I appreciate all of you at Crossroads for the time of peace and quiet. It was good while it lasted and a small reprieve from using this thing,” he joked, waving the sword playfully. They flinched away, some even bolting a few steps before realizing he’d been joking and not intending to strike them down. “I’ve got some things to gather before I make my leave. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll bring Stubborn over as well. I’ll be gone shortly after.”

Tobias held out a hand to stop Vander and looked like he wanted to say something, like he wanted to stop Vander from leaving. But he pulled the hand back. Vander ignored the man entirely and passed without another word.

Vander held his head high and turned his thoughts towards the near future as he made his way back to his small, temporary home. The quaint cabin had given him a peace he’d thought he wanted for a long time. He’d forever cherish the memory of what could’ve been had he stayed, but the knowledge he’d gained, the knowledge that a life of luxuriating wasn’t for him. His power needed to be used, and he wouldn’t remain in the class assessment any longer.