Omen: 11, 12

“Adam,” Jurot called, looking out towards the road.

“Are we in trouble?” Adam asked, staring at the large group marching down the road towards them.

Jurot remained silent for a short while, but as they approached, he shook his head. “We should not be.”

All the soldiers carried with them a spear, at least one blade, a bundle of javelins, and a shield. There were those who only wore thick clothing and a helmet, while a few wore chain over their thick clothes. Others wore more with their chain, and the soldier leading the entire group wore a breastplate. Their cloaks were dark, near black, but the sun revealed the hints of blue. A third of the group followed behind the four mules, two of which were pulling along carts. The soldiers themselves all carried at least three wooden stakes over a shoulder.

“We should meet them on the road,” Jurot said, untying the ropes around the logs within the ground, allowing the gate to fall forward like a bridge. He motioned a head to Kitool, who followed him out, and Adam stepped out after them.

The soldiers continued to march until they were no more than fifty paces away, with the leader and her four companions stepping forward. Her companions were those which wore full chain main. She noted the tattoos on Jurot and Kitool, and slowly bowed her head.

“Iyrmen,” the leader said.

“Jurot, son of Sonarot,” Jurot said.

“Kitool, daughter of Citool,” Kitool added.

Adam noted just how young the entire group was, with most of those wearing only helmets in their late teens. “Oh,” Adam said, noticing the woman was looking at him. “Adam.”

“Sergeant Zera Ironwood,” the young woman said, bowing her head slightly. “How many make your party?”

“Twenty people,” Adam replied, including Jaygak in the estimation, who had forced her way into the group. “Plus a couple of animals.”

Zera eyed up the man in puthral armour. She assumed he wasn’t an Iyrman, but with the puthral armour, he must have been close to them. “Are you here to quest?”

“That’s right.”

She eyed up the trio, before she noted the others on the walls, pretending to keep a lookout, but were actually listening on their conversation. “How long have you been here?”

“This is the third day, I think,” Adam replied.

“Any trouble?”

“Boars and hawkbears.”

“Hawkbears?” the woman asked, unable to control her surprise.

“About thirteen of them,” Adam said.

“Ill news.” She straightened up.

“We welcomed them eagerly,” Adam admitted. “Killed them all before they could do much.”

Zera saw his Bronze Rank token, and she nodded. “We will be making camp here for the night.”

Adam bowed his head. “Of course.”

“Can you pay war tax?”

“How much?”

“Twenty gold.”

Adam opened up his pouch, stacking up gold within Jurot’s hands, and the Iyrman stepped forward.

“May Lady Arya bless you in these times,” Zera said.

Adam smiled. “May the good goddess bless you too, Sergeant Ironwood.”

The woman turned and the soldiers began to make their camp, quickly forming a ditch before they set up their stakes and tents. They made their camp on the opposite side, across the river, which was not so deep here and was easily a fifty steps wide. Luckily for the soldiers, there were stone steps they could use to cross the river without getting too wet.

“Anything I should know?” Adam whispered to Jurot within their own camp.

“We should share some of the meat, but otherwise leave them be,” Jurot said.

Stolen story; please report.

“Fair point, we’ve got way too much,” Adam agreed. He allowed Jurot to take the meat to the soldiers, who thanked the Iyrman.

As evening approached, the group could hear the soldiers going about their business, some keeping watch, others relaxing by napping or playing games.

“Ironwood is such a cool name,” Adam whispered. “Fateson isn’t as cool.”

“I think Fateson is cool,” Jurot reassured.

“Cooler than Ironwood?”

“No.”

“I should think of a cooler name. My kids are going to be taking the name too, so it needs to be the best name. Fateson doesn’t make sense for my daughters.” Adam’s thoughts fell to his children. “Jurot, my kids are so cute. How can I have such cute children when my name isn’t cool?”

Jurot crossed his arms, closing his eyes as he fell into thought. “Okay.”

“Adam, do you always think about your children?” Jaygak asked.

Adam threw Jaygak a look, and she understood how silly her question was. The Devilkin sighed, rubbing her head. “Isn’t it alright? You’re already so strong, so it’s not like they won’t be happy with you.”

“It doesn’t matter how strong I am, they’ll all become stronger than me anyway,” Adam said. He found almost all of his companions looked over towards him.

“What?” Jaygak asked, unable to contain her surprise.

“What?” Adam replied.

“Your children are going to be stronger than you?”

“If they want to be,” Adam said. “If they don’t want to be, then that’s fine too.”

“Can they even become stronger than you?” Jaygak’s tone was serious for once, and a bead of sweat dropped down the side of her face.

“The student always surpasses the master.”

“The next generation will surpass the old,” Kitool stated, reciting one of the wisdoms passed through the world. It was often true, and many times, untrue. Yet, the Iyr was stronger than it had ever been, so they could only believe in it.

“Is that even…” Jaygak stopped, realising what she was about to say. Of course it was possible, since it was Adam.

“I can’t wait for the business to be built,” Adam admitted. “They’ll be called young boss, so even if my last name isn’t the coolest, that will be cool anyhow.”

“Would our children also be called young boss?” Jaygak asked.

Adam winced. “Sorry, Jaygak, but you’re too horny for me.”

Jaygak’s brow pulsed. “How could you even think that I’d go for you!”

“Aren’t you Iyrmen trying to jump on anyone strong?” Adam retorted.

“Even if you are strong, you don’t have any horns, so why would I want to have children with you?”

“I’m five for five for cute children,” Adam said.

“Who of the Gak family isn’t cute?” Jaygak dared Adam to speak poorly of her adorable cousins.

“You.”

Jaygak winced, as though struck by his words. “I’m going to tell Taygak that you said I wasn’t cute.”

“I suppose I can admit the way you run away is cute,” Adam retorted.

Jaygak frowned, clenching her fist towards the Half Elf, but she said no more. She wasn’t in the mood to come to blows verbally with the Half Elf. ‘Fine, I’ll just steal your children away from you!’

‘He really is an idiot,’ Lucy thought, relaxing to one side. She stared at the sky, deep in thought. They had to take Adam’s words seriously, even if they sounded stupid. His children, stronger than him? Adam had no plans on stopping any time soon, and he had already made the plan to become a Paragon. However, if it was him, couldn’t he go much higher?

‘Idol,’ Lucy thought. It was the tier above Paragon, which was the pinnacle of most mortals. Some could reach the level with enough time, though they had already met beings at that level. She had died to one, the memory causing her to tense up.

Mara, noticing Lucy tense up, brought her a cup of water.

Lord Stokmar, too, was an Idol, but she was no doubt the strongest Idol they had met. The difference between her and someone who would have just reached an Idol would have been the difference between a Paragon and an Expert. No Expert could beat a Paragon. Though, perhaps with enough luck, it could come to pass.

Lucy’s eyes fell to Adam. When speaking of luck, she couldn’t help but think of him. He was an Expert and had beaten someone who was strong enough to be considered a Paragon.

‘I was lucky,’ the Half Elf had said back then.

‘Lucky? Isn’t that just another way to say chaotic?’

Korin bit into the smoked hawkbear meat, before looking to Dunes. Dunes returned his look with a smile on his face, the Aswadian Priest deciding to eat peacefully.

Omen: 16, 17

The soldiers awoke early in the morning, and didn’t take long to clean up their camp. They filled in the earth, pulled up their stakes, and once their leaders checked everything was in order, they made their way to East Port.

“Lots of young soldiers,” Adam said, watching them go.

“Yes,” Jurot replied.

“They’re from the north?”

“They are.”

“I expected them to be older and grizzled from how you speak of the north.”

“They are a new company,” Jurot explained. “The King has standardised the military. Equipment, ranks, they have all been taken into consideration. He wishes to form a military of at least fifty thousand strong, controlled directly by himself. The nobles are allowed to form their own orders for their own defence, and will be sent to lead armies, but cannot keep their own.”

“So most of the army is made of fodder, given thick clothes and a helmet, to appease the nobles?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s not great news,” Adam admitted.

“There are other companies which are more experienced, and hold greater ranks and equipment, so the army has not been reduced so low,” Jurot said. “They will find it difficult even though they outnumber their opponents in the south.”

“Yeah…”

Adam spent very little time thinking too deeply about the soldiers, for soon he had greater matters to think of.

“Jurot?”

“Yes?”

Adam stared up ahead. “Are those what I think they are?”

“Yes.”

“And there’s more than one?”

“Yes.”

“Three?”

“Yes.”

Adam slowly nodded his head, staring at the three creatures which were currently wading through the river towards them. Each was larger than any of them, larger than even the aurochs they had faced not long ago. Each also had several heads, long and almost snake like, with thick scales.

The fort was full of life as the groups each formed their defences, Adam staring at the three creatures as they approached them. Jaygak reached for a quiver, chanting a spell, before the arrows tingled with magic.

“Fire stops their regeneration?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Jaygak replied, as Ivy pulled up an arrow from the quiver, feeling it tingle. “Use them to assist the young Iyrmen.”

Ivy nodded her head slowly, readying her bow and arrow as the group prepared themselves.

“It just had to be hydras,” Adam muttered to himself. However, his lips formed a wry smile, and Wraith tingled within his hand.