"... two nearby villages are marked on the map." Said Alec as Zane handed me over a small backpack "It will take you five hours top to reach the nearby one, so I suggest you don't slack on the road."
I checked the backpack, and sure enough, all the items Alec mentioned are in there; a map of the region, Two MRE ration packs, and the knife they confiscated after using it to hold Eric hostage.
That is rather nice of them.
I took out the map and looked at the places Alec just mentioned. Two places are marked with blue circles and a third is a bit far marked with a red circle.
"What is the red mark?" I asked, pointing at the map. After my strange conversation with Bell, I become slightly bolder in my approaches and put emphasis on slightly. As long as I don't inquire about something too obvious to not know. Fortunately, knowing places on a map isn't something everyone is familiar with.
"The Fort, Saint North."
Where the orders come from. So that is Saint North the place they answer to. And my next destination is. The reason for that is in his words... 'Fort'. Isn't that a word that screams security? At least does better than another village that will most likely end up like this one.
That may sound harsh but it is reality. What do these villages have to defend themselves against a monster of terror like that thing? Pitches and forks? Can it even pierce their hide where bullets almost failed? And that is assuming that they will not be gripped by terror and freeze in place. Which sadly was my case.
Wherever I think of that incident, I can't help but admit I was so fucking lucky. Lucky to activate the superpower, lucky that the rifle was loaded with enough cartridges, and lucky that it was equipped with a bayonet. Some would argue that it wasn't luck but misfortune that got me to face off against that thing.
Delusional.
Think of it this way.
If you believe or want a red sock to be green does that mean the red sock now is green? NO. A red sock is a red sock no matter what you believe or want it to be. Granted you can paint the red sock green but then you would be just covering something you don't like with something you want. And in doing that you would be way past the delusional stage, you would be welcomed into the realm of madness.
I think it is the same for encountering that monster. I did not want to come across that thing again. The experience was traumatizing. I do not want this world to be infested with monsters and I don't like it. But that changes nothing about the world. And guess what, the monsters will still be here wherever I want it or not, wherever I believe it or not, and wherever I like it or not.
Accordingly, I am glad I encounter that monstrosity and survived. It opened the door containing the fragmented picture of this world. It is not pretty but it is real. And knowing and accepting the real is what differentiates me and the dead village behind me or the hunter.
Reality will not change to suit my needs.
And the only way to survive in this reality is to be one with it. Something you can't do if you keep denying it, which is the first step. The second step is to learn its rules. Which is hard and easy to grasp. Fortunately, I have nearly thirty years of experience. The world sure is different but not so much in the human rules. I will just need a strategic place to start, a place where I could build my protective walls.
Saint North.
I don't know what place it is, but if they have an army that answers directly to them, then it has great potential for a starting place. The villages on the other hand if they are on the same tier as this destroyed one, then they would be a waste of time.
Even if it will take days I have to reach Sain North. The MRE Alec gave me probably wouldn't be enough, But I will just have to hunt another hare or two. I still have ten cartridges left after blowing away Eric's handgun. And he still hadn't stopped whining about it even now.
I looked at the grumpy man in question and asked for my rifle "Can I get my rifle back?"
After our confrontation, he sort of confiscated it for security reasons wherever that means. And he used it in all sorts of horrible ways especially the muddy kind just to vent his anger; dragging on the mud, measuring puddles of mud, using it as a cane on the mud, and so on. The fucking bastard was so imaginative that his pettiness can be viewed as a talent.
I wanted to interject and stand up for the rifle that saved my life, but I decided against it for grave justifications. One of them is that my nose still fucking hurts and can't even breath with it, hell even a twitch of a muscle send pain all over my face, and confronting him now would be no different than stirring up a hornet's nest. Which is not a wise thing to do.
The second cause is that I don't want to take its place. I do like the rifle and it did save my life, but liking isn't enough to confront the angry bastard. And if you think about saving my life can't be considered a viable reason if you take into account that it was it that put me in the danger in the first place. I would never risk my hide going after the injured hunter if I had no knowledge of the rifle. I know, I am being petty, but I am surely not the pettiest person in the room.
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"What? Didn't you fucking hear priest when he said civilians are prohibited the use of firearms?" He looked at me as if I killed his dog, packed it, and then send it to him as a gift for his birthday.
"No seriously man, I will need that rifle if I want to reach the village alive."
"What you don't fucking understand when I am saying it is against the fucking law for civilians to own firearms. You should consider yourself lucky we are on a mission, or else your destination isn't the village but the fucking jail."
This is quite a problematic situation.
Zane did say owning a firearm is illegal, but I thought of it as any normal country in my previous world. Besides, aren't there more pressing issues than controlling civilian firearms? Like the thing that decimated an entire village.
Something is starting to become clear in my head. They truly do not care. Just like how Bell studied my reaction to the dead villagers, I also studied theirs. At first, I thought they are professionals, hardened veterans that won't let blood and death affect their mood and mission, But that is not it. I wouldn't say they are emotionless, It is more as if it is an everyday occurrence.
A village getting disseminated is an everyday occurrence.
How much fucked up this world is...?
I assumed before that the monsters may not be everybody's knowledge because they are few. But there is also the obnoxious possibility that they keep them a secret because there is a lot of them. It may sound illogical but it isn't.
"Let me see." Said Bell after putting back her backpack in the car's trunk, she walked to Eric and took out the rifle from his hands. "What a nice piece of history you got here." Turned it over, inspecting it on all sides, checking the sides, the barrel, the bolt action, and so on, not minding at all the mud and grime it was covered with. "Proud Karabiner 66, also known as PK66, chambering five rounds of 7.92×57mm caliber, beautifully lightweight, and the sound of the bolt is just so euphoric."
"Can I get it back?" I said not wanting to hear any more of her getting enthralled by a gun, her already a not-so-good image in my mind getting even more distorted.
Bell looked at me as if I waked her up five minutes before the morning alarm clock rang, then she looked at the rifle in her hand, then me before saying "Can't do Vic, that is against the empire's law."
I heard a snort from Eric, rejoicing at my misery I guess. At least now I know I am on the empire territory. It also explains the strict firearms law. Autocracy's number one enemy is uprisings after all. And having your people raise their guns against you is every ruler's nightmare. Naturally disarming them of anything they can use against the oppressing regime is first in their list of 'reforms', even if they had to die in the most brutal ways by the claws of monsters.
I looked at the others but all I got was a headshake. That cut the grass under my fucking boots. I thought it was just Eric playing his petty card but all of them think the same; I shouldn't own a gun. This may be more dangerous than the monster itself.
The rifle is indispensable if I want to reach Saint North without any complications. I still have the axe and bayonet they gave me back. But a two hundred millimeters blade and blunted axe aren't nearly as useful as the rifle. The possibility of me surviving another monster without it is so low that it becomes a probability.
Something that will kill you and someone that will take away anything you can use to protect yourself against the something. Isn't that tantamount to a death sentence?
I held back the sigh that threatened to escape me. And I thought of what I should do. I didn't activate my ability since there is no immediate threat and because I didn't want to become too reliant on it. There are also other issues that may arise due to emotional suppression. And since the rifle is essential to my survival, chances are I may start an attack or something more drastic.
So what option do I have?
The first one is the resigned pacifist choice. Accept things and start moving my legs. If I'm lucky, I'll make it to the nearest village before sundown. And with a bit more luck the village would be a welcoming one and would host me for one night before I start moving once again in the morning. And with much, much more luck I wouldn't have to face precipitation, snowstorm, bandit, and the winning horror award; the monster. And finally with an exorbitant amount of luck the fort will open its gates to me.
The second option is the sympathy choice. In other words, all I have to do is beg and wait. Going on my knee, hands in praying form, forcing some water out of my eyes socket, and then start begging. Soliciting their human leniency for my miserable situation. Imploring with snots, hiccups, and snobs how much that rifle meant to me and my dead grampa, and how they would be doing a great favor for me and the generations to come by giving the rifle back.
Both of these choices rely heavily on factors that are outside of my control. The former depends entirely on luck. Whether it's the villagers, the weather, my safety, and the fort's behavior are all situations that I have simply no control over. Granted luck is everywhere. There is no 100%, the maximum you can get in anything is 99%, and the core of the other 1% is luck. And you can do nothing about it, after all, nothing is absolute.
However, the only thing you can influence is your action to force the odds for working with you rather than against you. And you do that by accumulating enough stacks that favor your chances. And if you don't make any action or your actions are useless then you find yourself and your odds completely dependent on luck. And luck is the amalgamation of other people's actions and life. So depending on luck is foolish and brash.
But I digress, the latter choice is more dependent on human kindness but luck also plays a role in it. For instance, the level of kindness varies from one human to another. And if you are lucky you will end up meeting a kind person. Still, leaving your life hanging by the rope of others' kindness is no less worst than depending on luck.
Luck and kindness.
Those are my choices. Both choices are fruitless to me yet I am not against using any of them if the situation is unredeemable. However for now I still have a third choice. A choice that could aver to be dangerous but comes with its own fruits. A choice that has luck factored into it but my action won't be useless. A choice that will get me back my rifle back but will also put me in danger.
The choice is...
"I am a Blessed."
... to go along with them.