A Kansas farm, on average, has more than eight hundred acres. Noah couldn’t remember where he had read that, but he had. The five farms, together, occupied an area slightly over two miles by two miles, with five houses and some huge sheds all clustered toward one end, near a fragment of asphalt road. People were wandering around or just sitting around the sheds, many in very light clothing, the choice likely made in response to the oppressive heat. A couple people had clustered multiple wooden picnic tables in the center, with a ton of random beach furniture around the side.

Others were wandering through the fields, trying to pick vegetables out. It was going to be hell, Noah knew. Not to get food for one day, but a harvest without any real tools would be near impossible, even with the numbers of people around. And Noah wasn’t sure how they would preserve the food.

The farms had been transported entire, and were on the ground a few hundred feet from the river’s edge, with only a couple-feet-tall drop-off where the pieces of the world had been stitched together. Still, it was incongruous seeing a river with Kansas fields on one side, and a thick, mystical forest on the other.

Noah chuckled darkly to himself. It’s not close to as weird as a ton of the other things I’ve seen, including the fact I’m running around with goblins and robot-golems.

He glanced upward. Or the fact the world I’m on has a ring around it.

Noah had caught glimpses of strange beasts in the thick foliage of the forest, and seen a large, freshwater crab with spines on its shell feeding at the river, jabbing its claws down at something in the water—fish, Noah presumed. The feeding tactic alone would have told Noah the crabs were at an eleven on the weird scale even without the porcupine spines and huge size.

“Here we are,” Greg said, waving his hand at the collection of farms.

“Thanks,” Noah said. “I really appreciate you bringing us here.”

“That’s a lot of humans,” Lika said and patted her jacket of vials absently. “About the same as all of Zorin Bog.”

Bloodstains marked the edge of the leather wrapped around her club foot, and her face was pinched. But she didn’t complain. Noah felt for her, but leaving Lika wasn’t an option, and neither was not rescuing Hope as quickly as possible. So Noah had kept quiet despite her distress.

Lika’s two companions chattered excitedly in what sounded like grunts to Noah behind them.

“A lot of experience is what I see,” RED muttered.

Noah glared at his companion.

Red held his mechanical hands out in a pseudo-shrug. “Or we could let them starve, wasting all the experience.”

“Shall we go find who’s in charge?” Noah asked. “I want to ask for help in taking the elves’ prize card from them.”

“Why the elves, anyway?” Greg asked, glancing over at Noah with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, obviously you’re allied with the goblins, but do you mind if I ask how it is you didn’t ally with the elves?”

Noah chuckled darkly. “Said elves are elitist, slaving douche canoes that have obviously decided to be on the side of evil. Seriously. I tried to stop them from murdering the goblins and they offered me the role of slave instead. When I refused, they tried to murder me as well. And that was one of their princes.”

“Good reasons,” Greg said, his eyes wide at Noah’s recitation. “Well, the guy you need to talk to about that, Kevin, should be up ahead, inside the right-most farmhouse.”

Greg limped forward, heading from the grass-and-bush occupied bank of the river to the asphalt road rather than continuing to walk the side of the river. The road was up a small ledge, but the ground had been recently broken to make a ramp, and the old man walked up it. Then he followed the old Kansas road toward the cluster of farm buildings and dwellings.

Noah trailed after him, glancing around as he went. Nothing seemed that different from beside the farm itself from what he had been dealing with—Kansas fields were past the farms in one direction, and what Noah now knew was the Copper River and Ashtae Forest in the other.

As they got closer to the farms, some people called and waved. Most just sat, however, staring at nothing, obviously suffering what Noah’s granddad had once called shell shock, and what Noah knew as PTSD. He got no stares of hostility, though.

Some part of Noah had been expecting everyone to be clannish and distrustful of outsiders, but barely anyone seemed to care that he was there. Although quite a few pointed at RED or the goblins, and he saw them whispering to one another.

It has been less than twenty-four hours. I suppose American hospitality is still alive and well for the moment, although I worry about our future.

Or maybe they’re all just coping with their own losses. Watching over four-fifths of your community die over a single night is beyond horrible.

Greg led Noah’s group to the farmhouse on the far right of the cluster of houses and equipment sheds. Noah briefly watched a ton of young men, appearing about age thirteen to thirty, pushing a tractor out of one of the sheds to join a bunch of other vehicles at the edge of a field.

Greg pointed to the house they were headed toward and spoke softly. “The family that lived here were on vacation, so this house has been converted to our temporary head of government. That’s where Kevin is set up.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“You guys got organized fast,” Noah muttered. “The apocalypse was what, fourteen hours ago?”

Greg answered, his voice distant. “Something like that. And yeah. Kevin was a police officer as well as ex-military. He knows what he’s about, I guess.”

Greg pulled the door open and headed in. The front room was a large living room with a half-foyer around the front entrance. A desk had been pushed up next to a huge bay window looking out the front. Two other desks were behind it, out of the direct sunlight. Three men sat behind the individual desks, glancing over books and maps.

The man at the largest desk, near the window, glanced up. He had a card floating in front of him, a single one, that matched the appearance of the one floating around Lika.

This has to be Kevin.

Kevin blinked at Greg, then wrinkled his forehead slightly. Then he took in RED and Lika. His eyes narrowed and his right hand dropped to his side behind the desk. Kevin placed his left hand against his chest, fingers splayed out.

Behind him, two other men rose from their desks, hands on police-issue Beretta pistols.

“They’re on our side,” Greg said quickly, waving his arm to Noah and his companions. “No threat.”

The two men in the back relaxed, but Kevin stood tall. The man was such a vision of a military recruiting poster that Noah expected Uncle Sam to appear and tell Noah his country needed him.

Close-cropped blond hair. Intense brown eyes that stared at Noah with focused determination. A t-shirt that struggled to contain Kevin’s muscled, six-foot-four frame.

Kevin pushed his hand out from his chest.

A notification appeared in Noah’s view. Deckbearer Kevin has pulled his deck.

Four glowing white cards appeared, and Kevin touched one. An angel with a flaming sword appeared at his side.

Roidae, Dispenser of Fiery Justice

Unique, Rare Equivalent, Tier-6 equivalent Divine companion

0 Power

Health: 18

Attack: 4

Defense: 7

Magical Attack: 9[Fire]

Magical Defense: 7

Special: Purifying Flame: +100% Magical Attack against Elder, Corrupt, Undead, and Infernal

Special: Burning Fall: When reduced to 0 Health, Roidae makes a Magical Attack at 10 against whomever slew him before returning to the deck. This is modified by all modifiers that would modify his normal Magical Attack.

“Roidae serves one purpose—to dispense the justice of Michael to the worst of those that have offended against the will of the Divine. Even in death he removes the enemies of the Divine from Arena.”

Noah touched his own hand to his chest, and he was gratified to see that Lika grabbed a potion and pressed her hand to her chest. But Greg shook his head as he reached out and pushed Noah’s hand down.

Greg hissed, “This guy just saved the last of us, but he and we watched most of our people die. This is just being cautious.”

“A necessary caution,” Kevin said, his flinty voice hard as stone, not the inspiring baritone Noah had expected.

Greg nodded. “I know, sir. I lost my daughter and son-in-law. But these guys aren’t a threat. I’m Greg. You sent me out to scout up the river, and I met these guys headed my way. This is Noah, and his friend Lika. The robot is just one of his magic cards, like you have.”

“I can see that,” Kevin replied.

Greg smiled at Noah but motioned to the huge man. “This is Kevin, current leader of the people of Emporia.”

No one moved for a moment, then Kevin let go of his sidearm and reached across the desk, his hand held out.

Noah took it and shook. Kevin had a strong, no-nonsense grip.

“I can spare some room in the shed, easily,” Kevin said. “But you’ll need to work, and you’ll be sleeping on the ground until, well, a lot gets better. You’ll have to pick your own food from the fields”—Kevin’s eyes flickered to the edge of the rifle visible over the backpack edge—“or hunt it. I’m sorry, but I can’t do more.”

“I’m trying to rescue Hope, my pregnant girlfriend. I can’t stay.”

Kevin frowned. “Then why are you here taking my valuable time?”

Noah was about to make a snide remark about these healthy men just sitting at desks, but his eyes fell on the books on the table. The first title read Agricultural Techniques and Organization of Medieval England after the Normans, and the second one he saw was a commercial fishing guide.

Maybe he really is busy. “I was going to ask for help. The Zorin Bog goblins, of which Lika here”—Noah motioned to his new ally—“is a princess, are being exterminated by the Ashtae elves. I’d like to lend the goblins a hand, and perhaps take the Realm prize card from the elves as well. The elves are bad business—they’re seeking to kill or enslave everyone else in the area, humans included. Aggressively seeking it.”

Kevin grimaced. “I know. We already had a run-in with them this morning, while you were out, Greg. We lost two more men.”

No one is sitting on their ass in this apocalypse, that’s for sure, Noah thought to himself, surprised the patrol groups had already met each other, a mere half-day after being transported to Arena. Although they did attack the goblins, so I shouldn’t be that surprised. In a way, though, this is welcome news.

“So, you’ll help, then?” Noah asked.

Kevin glanced again at Lika. “I see that your companion has one of the realm card prizes. What do you intend to do with the elves’ card if you get it?”

Noah could sense this was going to be trouble, and took a deep breath before answering. “I’m going to let Lika, here, have it.”

Kevin’s face went completely still, and his hand dropped back to his side. “Why would you do that? My people are dying—hell, they’re your people that are dying.”

“I made a promise to her,” Noah responded, his hand itching to reach for his own weapon in the tense atmosphere. “I was clear, however, that I wouldn’t help her kill my own people. I just want to get this issue solved so that I can move to the next zone.”

“So, you promised some alien the card?” Kevin asked, disdain in his voice.

“That word didn’t translate,” Lika muttered, her eyes flickering around the room nervously.

Noah didn’t answer Kevin. The question seemed rhetorical.

Kevin’s eyes flickered to Lika. “If you won’t fight your people for her, shouldn’t I just kill the alien now and take her card? A realm, whatever that is, might save us all.”

Noah’s skin prickled. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not?” Kevin asked, his voice hard and cold. “People have died. More will go to the grave as well, and we could mitigate that with this prize. Would you stand against America, against even humanity?”

“I would stand with my friend and ally, who I gave my word to.” Noah slowly moved his right hand to his Beretta and placed his hand over his own chest.

Kevin had his gun out in a flash. Everyone pulled weapons, even the two idiot goblins.

But no one fired.

Everyone stared at each other.

“You don’t understand,” Kevin said, this tiniest hint of pleading in his otherwise hard voice. “We need this. Don’t make me shoot a fellow American.”

Noah grit his teeth. “Would you truly murder a thinking being that came to you in peace? That’s a terrible precedent to set for whatever you’re building here. Even if you must kill her, it should be honorably, on the field of battle. Killing emissaries is a terrible, terrible idea. Don’t take the card like this.”

Kevin’s face hardened further, and his finger twitched on his gun.