The situation at the caravan had been extremely deadly even though Jorik had been there to defend it. He alone was responsible for at least a third of the goblin’s death count, but even then, the damage to the caravan had been immense.

Half of the guards and Zelphar, a Frontalier, had died at the goblin’s hands. As for the merchants, they had been under cover most of the time, or had rear guard positions and their loss had been less severe. Still, a tenth of them had died, and in total roughly thirty people had been killed during the battle.

As for the material damage, four carts had been directly destroyed by the two-headed goblin fireballs, and five more had been lost to the resulting fire. More than another half-dozen carts had been severely damaged by the goblins when they attacked, and even though some of their load could be saved, they couldn’t repair the carts to transport them right now.

The aftermath of the battle left everyone speechless, and they started cleaning the camp and treating the injured automatically. It was only afterwards that the reality of what had happened struck them fully, and they started to discuss it among themselves with a low voice. More than one threw an admiring glance at Mahon or Jorik who were getting some well-deserved rest.

All the people who fought in the frontline had been given a privileged treatment, and they had been left alone to rest while the merchants dealt with everything else. Only Edwin seemed to refuse the opportunity, and he worked to coordinate the merchants’ actions. Together, they spent the whole morning organizing the survivors and listing the inventory of everything that had been destroyed during the attack.

Time passed quickly and soon the cooks had to prepare lunch where they could, away from the burning bonfire where the merchants tossed goblin’s corpse after goblin’s corpse. When the appetizing smell of their cooking finished replacing the stench of the dead, the guards exited their torpor and joined the tables dressed for lunch.

After expending so much energy to deal with the goblin’s fire magic, Mahon hadn’t been exempted from the wave of fatigue that had struck the warriors once their adrenaline had left their system. The call of food was too tempting to be ignored, however, and Mahon forced himself to push through his lethargy to walk to the buffet.

The merchants bowed their heads respectfully as soon as he moved near them, and they even stopped whatever they were doing to express their gratitude. As he approached the table, Edwin moved to the side and gestured that he sat on the bench next to him.

Mahon threw a look at the leader of the Frontaliers, and even though the man had clear signs of light injuries, he didn’t seem as tired as the others, as if it was far from his first time dealing with such a situation, and his body had grown accustomed to the burden.

When Mahon reached him, Edwin grabbed him by the forearm and shook it firmly. He then turned his head to the merchants who were observing them with attention and raised Mahon’s arm to the air.

“Our hero!” He yelled with enthusiasm.

A fervent clamor welcomed his words, and the merchants yelled their enthusiasm while clapping their hands and stomping their feet. Mahon took back his hand from Edwin’s grip, embarrassed at the situation, and Edwin seemed to notice it as well, as he stopped himself from continuing further and instead grabbed a plate to pass it to Mahon.

He then sat next to him and observed while Mahon ate slowly.

“Even though you killed the reaper-cat by yourself, I admit I didn’t believe how strong you claimed to be. You even told me upfront, but I refused to accept it. But with what you did before… There is no doubt, you’re definitely born to be a legend! Without you and Jorik, we would be food to the goblins by now… It was amazing! The way you fought and jumped into the fray, and then you…”

Mahon stopped eating and threw him an annoyed look. “Please stop.”

Edwin immediately snapped shut and apologized to him. “I’m sorry, sir Mahon. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Mahon sighed silently at the man’s answer. “Edwin. I’m still the same man as yesterday. You don’t need to call me sir nor to pamper me like I’m a high noble. Just treat me as another guard, like you hired me to be. No less, no more.”

The face of the leader of the Frontaliers was torn between conflicting feelings, and Mahon could guess it wouldn’t go as easy as he had planned.

“I will try my best not to disappoint you.” He finally said, but Mahon couldn’t help but raise his eyes to the sky.

Speak of an attempt to stay low… Their reactions are even worse than Tharn back at Barcombe.

Mahon didn’t try further, and he quickly finished his meal before going back to his tent to rest while Edwin organized the camp for their departure. Shortly after, Jorik tried to eat too, and he was welcomed the same way Mahon was. In fact, due to its visible injury at the left shoulder, people went even more out of their way to thank him or help him.

He came back to the tent as quickly as Mahon, and the two men spent the remainder of the day hidden in their tent until Edwin called for departure in the late afternoon so they could reach the next town by tomorrow and repair and refurbish their caravan.

It wasn’t a pleasant trip. Mahon and Jorik spent their time hiding in their respective tents, or walking at the back of the convoy, away from prying eyes and too considerate merchants. They thought they were like the others in this caravan that almost acted as a family, but their sudden feats had placed them on a pedestal they couldn’t avoid. People were almost worshiping them every time they saw them. Mahon had already almost cut all bridges with Reptar once he had saved his daughters from how the man’s behavior ridiculously changed, but now all the caravan was acting the same way, and Mahon couldn’t bear it.

Instead, Jorik and he took the time to rest properly. Jorik had a severe injury that would incapacitate him for a few more days, while Mahon had plunged so deeply within the Flow only to get tossed out at numerous occasions during his fight that he suffered from a serious mental backlash. But pushing himself to his limits and fighting against unknown powers was also the way of growing, and he took the time to reflect on the fight and what had happened.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

After two days on their own, resting and meditating, their isolation came to an end as they reached the next city on their journey. Edwin informed everyone they would stop there longer than what was previously planned to tend to the injured and repair what could be before they continued further. They also needed to recruit more guards to replace the ones they had lost during the battle.

The market they established that day was in poor shape regarding their previous occurrences, but once they explained what had happened, the city’s authority did their best to help them.

“Sir Mahon? Sir Mahon?” Edwin went to check on him as Mahon stood isolated in his tent.

Suppressing a sigh, Mahon opened his tent and looked at the Frontalier.

“I’m sorry to disturb your rest, but the city of Fayfell offers nice places to rest and get rid of the journey’s fatigue. If you want, I can have someone show you around and guide you through the different possibilities.”

Mahon was about to refuse the proposition, but the fact they would spend a few days in the city meant he would quickly grow bored if he stayed cloistered in his tent for so long. At some point, he would have to leave anyway and face the rest of the caravan even though he didn’t like it.

“Don’t worry, I don’t need a guide. Just tell me the name of the best tavern, and I’m gonna take a look around myself.” Mahon finally answered.

“Ah, sure!”

Edwin took a few minutes to explain where Mahon could find the best tavern in town. He also handed a purse to Mahon which was part of the money he had earned with his killing counts according to a guard’s caravan contract. Edwin apologized that he couldn’t bring the full sum right now because he needed some funds to finance the repairs of the caravan, but Mahon couldn’t care less. They were so poor with Jorik that even what Edwin gave him was more than enough for anything he would fancy.

A short time later, Mahon sneaked out of the camp and picking Jorik on the way, he led them towards the city where no one knew of them. Yet.

“Finally free…” Jorik heaved a sigh of satisfaction as soon as they started walking through the streets, away from the venerating merchants.

“I still don’t understand how they could change their behavior so drastically.” Mahon answered as he felt a slight tension disappear the further away he moved from the camp.

“This part of the world has felt weird since we first stepped on it. People act irrationally, most seem indecisive and prompt to be blinded by their emotions.” Jorik analyzed. “They react disproportionately to everything, so I guess we should have seen it coming when you suddenly save their life against all odds.”

Mahon sighed. “Speaking of, the more I learn about this new world, the more I doubt it will be useful to free Ratho from the Amentiae.”

“You forget the fire magic. If we can learn to wield that, we would instantly turn the odds in our favor.”

The duo turned silent, lost in their own thoughts, as they walked through the city of Fayfell. Calling it a city was a bit too much though, as it was barely more than a big village. As they reached the center of the city, however, it became more alive and with many shops and businesses. It was the first time they saw something that looked like the city they knew best, Ratho.

Mahon had no trouble locating the tavern Edwin told him about, and soon Jorik and him were seated inside with a beer each. The place was simple but cozy, with about three quarters of the table full of people and nicely dressed waitresses attending to all the customers.

The beer didn’t taste bad, and Mahon allowed himself to relax for the first time since he came to Finem. Zac wasn’t at his side, and he would never be again, but in this world Jorik was the closest to a friend he could have, and in that moment it was enough for Mahon. After he enjoyed half of his drink, he focused back on the present and continued their previous conversation.

“Elas mentioned people who could use fire magic in his stories, but never to an extent they could launch fireballs that could blow a whole cart in the air. It was more like lighting a campfire without a flint. It didn’t even look like magic when he talked about it. I think even he didn’t think firing such a thing was possible.”

Jorik nodded before he leant closer to Mahon. “But you remember what Tharn said, right? About the Ill Immortals.”

“Yeah. He said they were powerful fire mages. You think he was right?”

“Think about it. The Ill Immortals are feared by a lot of people. But those same people are also very ignorant about them. It’s a secret organization that is supposed to have incredible knowledge and fighting capabilities. We both saw what that goblin was capable of. I refuse to believe that if such a stupid monster learned it, a human can’t. And I refuse to believe a strong, hidden organization doesn’t know this secret either.”

Mahon acquiesced slowly while leaning back in his seat.

“You’re probably right. But what then? If it’s a secret organization, we don’t ha…”

He shut up as he noticed a woman approaching their table. She was dressed provocatively, with a short green dress barely hiding her extensive assets. She was walking slowly, exaggerating her every move while rolling her hips in a seductive way. And it was working as almost every man around had their eyes glued to her silhouette as she moved through the tables.

But the woman had only eyes for Mahon, and when he glanced in her direction, she locked her eyes into his and bit her lips. In three more strides, she was at their side, and she elegantly picked up a chair and sat with them.

“Hello, gentlemen. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m known as Nixie, but you can call me Nix. I heard wonderful rumors about you two while I paced through the market today. Would these two handsome young men have some free time to… chat with this lady?”

The way she said chat while leaning forward to show them her deep cleavage made it more than clear she intended to do much more than just talk with them. Jorik glanced curiously at Mahon and raised his eyebrows in an interrogative gesture. Coupled with the disinterest in his eyes, Mahon quickly figured Jorik wasn’t in the least interested, but he hadn’t said anything because he didn’t know if Mahon would be.

“We’re not int...” Mahon started to answer, but Nixie was quicker, and she put her finger over Mahon’s mouth.

“Shhh. Don’t say no to a woman. We’ve barely met. Let’s get to know each other first!”

She pulled her seat closer to Mahon while ignoring Jorik, maybe sensing he wasn’t as an easy target as Mahon. She rubbed her foot against Mahon’s leg before she leaned even closer and spoke with as much charm as she could muster.

“You’re so young and yet already capable of so much. You only deserve the best.” She flashed a teasing smile. “Say, wouldn’t we make a great couple? We’re both young and beautiful…” She passed a finger through her hair while looking straight at Mahon. “I’m feeling playful today. Let’s do a game! If you manage to guess my age right the first time, I’ll let you take off one of my clothes right here right now. But if you miss, you have to tell me your name and offer me a drink.” She hid her face behind her hand, as if she was flushing after saying such a bold sentence, but her naughty smile told a whole other story. “So, do you dare?”