Level 30
Nathan munched on a piece of fruit. His stash of the damned thing must've been close to empty by now, but the Berserker didn't mind at all. Worst case scenario, he'd have to resort to eating monsters. It wasn't going to be ideal for him, but he'd rather have that option than nothing at all.
With a grimace, Nathan swallowed the chewed-up fruit—not because of the taste, but mostly because of how he'd been thinking about things the past three days. Apparently, the squad had opted to remain independent when it came to dungeon hunting, and while Nathan had initially celebrated the decision, right now it seemed like they were trying to phase him out.
Or prepare for life without me.
It might've just been his overthinking mind making up scenarios, but still, he had to admit that his assumptions held a little bit of weight to them. The last three days had him dropping back at Blood-Rock and having to catch up with the events of the day. Sure, Ruben blabbed on about what had transpired in their fights, but the rest seemed less inclined to chat with him. Unnaturally so, almost as if they'd been told to be careful of what they said around him.
Worse off was Ciara. The female mage had become somewhat cold towards him—not outright hostile, just less interested in having a conversation with him. She answered any direct questions he threw at her but evaded any questions about her personal life or what she'd been up to before the apocalypse happened. Nathan had no idea why the behavior bothered him at all, but it did.
He let his mind wander as he walked back to Blood-Rock, his feet trudging through the dirt as the purple sky lit up the forest, its glow illuminating his path. Somehow it seemed like the forest was quiet tonight, like the whole ecosystem held its breath in anticipation of something that Nathan had no idea about.
Maybe he was just tripping; the last dungeon had done a number on him, but Nathan didn't really mind. He'd hit level 30, and while that wasn't a significant number to most, to him it was worth having a mini celebration. He was growing and rising, getting better in every sense of the word. Hopefully within a month or so, he'd be able to relax and live like a hermit.
Who am I kidding? This freaking system would just throw some random monster to kill me.
Nathan huffed at the realization, but he couldn't fault the thought—it was a reasonable one, after all. The system seemed like it wanted to build a food chain, and it wasn't interested in which species ended up at the top. He didn't know about the rest of the squad, but he knew that he wouldn't settle for anything less than the top, if only to be able to keep his independence.
"The grind continues," Nathan sighed.
Blood-Rock was soon in his field of vision, and so Nathan sucked in a quick breath before heading to his stronghold. He heard their voices even as he made his way up the porch; heck, even Pirlo seemed to occasionally chip in with a word now and then. Nathan hesitated to step into the cabin as he already knew what would happen.
Isn't it crazy, being an outcast in my own stronghold?
He resisted the urge to chuckle at his predicament. Sure, he was the Lord, but he was having a firsthand experience of how even a lord could be isolated from his people—not that the squad were his people. The realization gave him pause. It felt like Nathan was missing something; he had to stay still and try to follow the train of thought. Like a caveman discovering fire, his eyes lit up when he figured out what he was missing.
Faction.
Congratulations Lord Nathan Orion.
Faction successfully Created - Blood Army.
KABOOM!
Nathan stared at the notification with a grin. Sure, he was a little surprised that the system hadn't notified him when the three days it had scheduled for the creation of his faction had elapsed, but he chalked it up to either dismissing the notification because he was probably in battle or not paying attention when the system had dropped the notification for him.
He didn't fully understand what the benefits of owning a faction were, but he was pretty much satisfied with the fact that he was making strides. Plus, the squad had initially wanted to gatekeep the information from him, but they'd let up once Ruben had slipped up. Pirlo had done his best to silence the Berserker, but he'd still found out about the feature. Warmth hit him in the face as he was still contemplating his thoughts; it was only then he realized that the door to the cabin had been opened, bright orange light spilling from the open door.
Speak of the devil.
"Are you planning to stand outside all night?" Pirlo said.
Nathan briefly wondered if his thoughts of the rogue had somehow alerted him to spring into action. Sure, it was a stupid and irrational thought, but Nathan still considered it for a moment before discarding it. The rogue looked at him pointedly before Nathan let out an audible sigh.
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"I was just about to step in, thanks," Nathan said.
Walking into the living room, Nathan could tell that it hadn't been long since they'd returned from their own dungeon runs for the day. Ciara had stuck to the safe route, and even after three days, the squad had stuck to completing F-ranked dungeons. Nathan wouldn't really judge the mage, as the lives of her squadmates were in her hands, and one wrong or selfish decision by her would see someone dead.
Pirlo and Ruben still let out the occasional grumble, but both young men had stayed back with the squad, and Nathan could tell their presence had been appreciated even if the rest of the squad hadn't noticed. Ciara had. The mage was perceptive like that, and that was one of the few things that he liked about her.
Click.
The rogue closed the door behind him, and the entire cabin seemed to have gone quiet at his arrival, which Nathan had totally been expecting. After all, it was a pattern that he'd connected and one he had no interest in disrupting, even if it felt a little bit awkward.
A lord isolated in his own stronghold. It's an apocalypse, and I'm still...
"Yo, Nate! You wouldn't believe the monsters we fought today, bro!" Ruben said excitedly.
At least some things haven't changed.
Even if the rest of the squad wanted to act distant yet courteous, Ruben had no interest in picking sides. As usual, the Berserker liked to defy social norms, and this was one of such times. Nathan took a seat on the floor, nodding to the others in the cabin before preparing himself for the verbal onslaught the Berserker was about to release at him.
"Bro, I'll skip all the jibber-jabber and tell you about the coolest monster we fought today," Ruben said animatedly. "Any guesses?"
Oh golly, now I have to participate in this re-enactment.
When it came to the guessing game, Nathan wasn't so good, and Ruben was asking him to guess which monster was the coolest one they'd slayed today. Considering the fact that Nathan didn't even know all the kinds of monsters on the island, it was as though the Berserker had asked Nathan to figure out the exact word in his mind—something that was a very stupid ask to make.
"I don't know, a cockroach?" Nathan asked in a dry tone.
Like the fire burning up in the Berserker's body had just received more logs, Ruben's face lit up like a bonfire, the Berserker turning to face Ciara in an 'I told you so' manner, to which the mage rolled her eyes. Sure, Nathan wasn't privy to any discussion on what they'd assumed he would say, but the reaction from the mage made it seem like he was close to the mark.
Surely not!
"Told y'all he'd get it," Ruben said triumphantly. "It was this huge roach, almost as big as the cabin!"
Loud groans left the lips of the members of the squad. Sure, Nathan hadn't been there, but he was pretty sure that the Berserker had been exaggerating by the reaction of his squadmates. Ruben didn't seem to be deterred, as the Berserker launched into a tirade, painting a very vivid and disturbing image of what the fight with the roach had been like.
Somewhere during the Berserker's animated reenactment, Nathan stole a glance at the mage. He had to keep his cool when he realized that the squad leader had also been looking at him. Their eyes met for a second, and in those eyes, he saw uncertainty, but just as quickly as he'd seen it, the emotion was phased out as she became stoic, her eyes becoming hard and guarded. Nathan wasn't interested in stressing over what that meant, so he faced Ruben and actually listened to the blabbering Berserker.
Maybe this isn't so bad.
---
Camp Commander Sarion seethed at the order before him. He resisted the urge to use his hammer to smash the barbil wood table the missive was resting on. It was a test of his self-control; he very badly wanted to smash something. With a dissatisfied rumble, Sarion did a quick once-over of the information contained within the missive.
These cheeky bastards.
Every second he spent looking at the words felt like a second that he would go crazy. The higher-ups in the Mining Enterprise he worked for—Relas Touch—had seen it fit for some reason to form a partnership with demons that'd see them use his portal to get into this world. To the seven hells and back, it wasn't a new thing for Relas Touch to partner up with demons to solidify their hold on a baby world.
After all, people like Sarion were only miners at heart, and even though they'd bay for blood and kill hapless native inhabitants of baby worlds, when it came to holding up against those of the same native inhabitants that would rise up in power, Sarion and the rest would fall. At least that was what he'd been told was the reason before the new additional pact.
Sure, Relas Touch and demons did business with each other—unofficially. To anyone who paid attention to the inner workings of the big shots Ra'hal, it was a poorly kept secret, if it was ever intended to be a secret at all. Relas Touch would send low-level miners to invade a baby world, get a foothold on it, and establish a portal in it, just like the one he had built in the camp. Then when things started to get hot, they'd partner up with a desperate race—usually to the disadvantage of said race—and they'd give them a faster way to get on the baby world.
Time is coin, after all.
Sarion pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn't the timing of a standard alliance transportation. It was way too early, which meant that someone was moving the pieces on a board that he couldn't comprehend. Not like he had enough brain power left to actually think about things like that. Right there on his desk sat his own little problem. Sure, letting the demons through wouldn't be a problem, but he'd been told he'd have to accommodate them for a week as they built their own settlement, which was annoying to say the least.
If there was any race Sarion would rather not deal with, it'd be the demons. The cunning and scheming bastards always made his skin crawl whenever he encountered them on any world. He let out a sigh; today was the D-day for the arrival of the demons. The missive had said so the first time he read it—which was three days ago. Every day after that had left him looking at the missive, hoping that he'd misread some important details, but he hadn't.
...And now I'm stuck here about to play host to a bunch of slimy creatures.
Sarion heard someone knock at his door, and he pretended not to have heard the sound, hoping the person would leave, but they didn't. The knocking continued until he called for the person to enter, dreading the message that was about to be delivered to him.
"Camp Commander, there's incoming from the portal!"