Experiencing the retreat of a defeated army firsthand was far from something Stas would have chosen to learn firsthand. Especially when battling an enemy like chaos.
The insane laughter behind, the agonized screams of those who couldn't escape, and the maddening whisper of the spreading chaos influence.
The sense of despair when the sky behind turned from blue to a putrid green, engulfing everything in sight. When the earth itself started covering with a strange taint that spread and grew like some mold or moss.
But worst of all was the realization that they had lost and screwed up. And now, others would pay for their mistakes.
For any defeat, especially one of this magnitude, had its consequences.
The blow from a chaos's fist, clad in cursed steel, shattered their defenses, opening an unobstructed path for monsters into the heart of the peaceful lands.
And it was a disaster of such magnitude that it was hard to grasp.
The recent mobilization had severely weakened all known countries, taking the best of the best and leaving the bare minimum in their place. Of course, rulers had left some reserves for the worst-case scenario, but it was clear they were scattered and unorganized. It would take a long time before they could mount any serious response.
Common folk, rural villagers, city artisans, and numerous others had faith in the strength of the allied forces. They continued to live on, rejoicing each new day and hoping to survive a little longer even in such an unpleasant world.
They believed they would be protected.
And now, in a single moment, all that faith plunged straight into hell as hordes of impermanence surged through the bloody breach where their defense once stood.
Cultists and mutants, their brains so rotten they seemed ready to fall out of their skulls, chaos spawn whose eternal hunger could never be satisfied, and finally, the champions of rot who genuinely reveled in the great slaughter. And let's not overlook the crazed yokai, spawned from the madness unfolding around.
In a single instant, the entire east and center of the continent blazed with conflagrations and sacrificial bonfires, where captives writhed, entertaining and nourishing the dark plane and its servants.
Any resistance that common folk could muster was utterly pointless. This world did not cultivate the strength of ordinary people. They lacked armor and blades, experience, and even resolve. Stone walls were rare, a privilege of large cities. Usually, wood sufficed because not even stone could stop warmasters, and wood was enough for bandits or forest creatures.
Meanwhile, those who did have all of that - cowardly fled, saving their own families. Yes, it didn't matter who, Mizuno or Sumada, samurai or onmyoji, they all rushed to save their own clans, utterly uncaring about some peasants or anyone else.
Under these circumstances, Stas could only feel shame.
The more cities the remnants of their army ran through, the more potential corpses the earthling saw. Their bewildered, frightened glances burned like searing iron, but Ordyntsev could only turn away.
There was nothing they could do now. Even if they tried to fight, it would only result in a final defeat.
While retreating, Stas and Jun joined a group of warmasters commanded by Katashi. He managed to organize a hodgepodge from members of various clans, including the Sumada, and then led them away from the battlefield.
Although warmasters weren't the only members of this group, there were representatives from other factions as well. Thus, they were joined by many samurai, onmyoji, and even a couple of dragons who hadn't managed to learn where everyone else of their kin had gone.
Their first destination was Higatsudo. The lands, which had long been home to the Mizuno, were about to suffer the worst devastation. That's why the warmasters and samurai planned to evacuate their families from there first.
The only good news was that the spread of chaos was slower than the people's movement, so they still had a little time.
Following the remnants of their army came panic, as locals learned that there was no one left to protect them.
For some time, Stas was very worried about what happened to Jishin and others. The turmoil and panic forced the hospital to retreat hastily, and Ordyntsev's people, as well as his snake, were lost.
Fortunately, he felt that his pet was still alive, albeit very far away.
After a couple of days, one of the dragons, sent to deliver a message, found them.
It turned out that Yamato had joined Jishin, and the second part of the survivors headed to the Citadel, gathering new forces for another major battle along the way.
Here arose another problem. The Daimyo of Higatsudo was adamant that his country be the new battleground. It was clear to everyone that while preparations were underway, the homeland of the water clan was swiftly turning into nothing.
The Mizuno obviously wished for the same. Losing their home, rushing elsewhere, forced to abandon everything they had built over centuries, was terrible.
Yet, any sensible person understood that they simply wouldn't have enough time to gather sufficient forces to fight chaos again. That's why many samurai were not in a hurry to heed the Daimyo's calls but intended to flee with the warmasters. In the conditions of an ongoing apocalypse, honor began to mean less and less.
By the way, along with various yokai, the only remaining great spirit, the Nine-Tailed Kitsune, went with Katashi. Her sister was transported nearby, in a guarded wagon. Over the past few days, she had not awakened, which made Stas quite nervous.
After all, the biology of yokai, despite general similarities, differed from human standards, so the earthling could give no guarantees.
The current situation considerably depressed the Fox, which in turn made everyone else tense.
Anger, rage, and hatred occasionally flared from the figure of the red-haired woman so intensely that even the experienced warmasters' knees trembled. Her yokai retinue looked as if they were ready to pounce on anyone who cast a sidelong glance at them.
There were fewer of the Turtle's yokai than any others. After their mistress was wounded, they, losing control, threw themselves directly at the ranks of chaos, where nearly all of them fell.
Fortunately, the Nine-Tails did not take out her frustration on Stas, understanding that he was doing everything he could. There were a few other surviving healers who hadn't evacuated with the hospital, but their skills were clearly inferior.
Besides caring for the wounded great spirit, Stas had to spend much time and energy checking and controlling the captured warlock. The latter, by Katashi's order, was carried by several irritated Mizuno.
The chaos servant was tied to a stretcher with long handles so that he would be as far away from the carriers as possible, but even so, the warmasters complained of suspicious voices in their heads and headaches.
Carriers had to be switched, but the situation repeated itself time after time.
The situation was complicated by the constant stench of the warlock's perpetually decaying body. It was so strong that it somehow moved even against the wind.
Once, before the battle, Ordyntsev had thought that transporting a captured chaos servant was equivalent to suicide.
Fate had a cruel sense of humor because now that's exactly what he was doing.
And despite all precautions, Stas saw how the warlock tried to break free time after time, even in an unconscious state.
Fortunately, after they stopped for a while in the lands of Mizuno while gathering families of the warmasters, Stas managed to somewhat enhance the security of the confinement.
On the other hand, it was clear that as soon as they started moving, the risk would return. That's why, despite the terrible conditions, Stas stubbornly tried to work with what he had, here and now.
Unlike the last captured warlock, this time the chaos servant's connection to some unknown source of energy exceeded anything he had seen before.
If in the first case it was a pipe as thick as a hand, then in the second, it was something like a massive main pipeline.
Under these circumstances, the man was diligently trying to get to the source of the force used by warlocks.
Everything he knew told him that they shouldn't have so much power.
If they were somewhere in the realm of chaos, certainly, but not in a world that had excellent protection against the forces of impermanence.
So far, there had been no success, but Stas did not lose hope. Intuition told him that the answer to the question he had posed for himself was incredibly important.
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And Ordyntsev was accustomed to trusting his intuition, considering it an extension of his own thoughts.
Given such appalling news, it's no wonder many were disheartened. It was hard to see any good prospects when every passing day played into the hands of chaos encroaching from all sides.
However, in all this impenetrable darkness, there was one constant "ray of light," who would be very surprised if someone called him that.
Jun Sumada didn't give a damn about the possible end of the world or his own death.
The supreme warmaster had not changed his usual routine at all. He continued to drink, mock those around him, and kill any chaos creature or insane yokai unlucky enough to encounter them on their path.
And although Stas would never admit it, his sensei's unshakable "whatever" attitude[1] greatly helped him keep himself together.
In these difficult times, one wanted to find something immutable.
However, Jun's insatiable curiosity about Earth still greatly annoyed him.
And so it was now, as soon as Stas tiredly abandoned the mutilated body of the cultist and decided to rest a bit, his sensei appeared at once.
It was amusing to watch how Jun tried to be polite, starting a conversation as if about nothing, only to smoothly transition to questions about what really interested him.
Their meeting took place in the guardhouse of the dungeon allocated to Stas. The warlock was kept in the adjacent room.
"How are things going?" the sensei sipped a cup of hot tea, then grimaced. Under the unexpressive gaze of the Serpent, he pulled out a bottle of sake and poured some into his tea. After tasting it, Jun nodded in satisfaction.
"I've almost grasped that thread," Stas sighed, rolling the contents of his cup in his hands. "I feel like they're deliberately hindering me, making the task harder. Nevertheless, slowly but surely, I'm getting closer to the truth."
"Very well," Jun nodded thoughtfully, adopting a contemplative look. "Listen, student, I've got a question of incredible importance that's been keeping me up night after night. Won't you answer it?"
"Of course, ask away," Stas sipped his tea.
"Do your women also have two tits, or is it more?" Jun clarified with childlike curiosity, leaning forward.
Stas sputtered, freezing with the cup near his mouth, then very slowly moved it away from his face and swallowed what he had almost choked on.
Realizing something from the expression on the Serpent's face, the sensei hurriedly tried to explain.
"Hey, look, it's a very important question! First, I thought maybe your women have just one breast. Like, in the middle of the chest. But then I realized that would be kind of ugly."
"Sensei…"
"Two is kind of mundane, don't you agree? But three, now that's more interesting. But then again, how are they arranged? In a triangle or, how should I put it, in a row…"
"Sensei, for all the Kami's sake, let's change the subject!" Stas suddenly had a headache.
"You just don't get it, student," Jun shook his head instructively. "That's what I was talking about; you're too far from all things human. Always holed up with your experiments, never seeing the light of day. Yet my question would be the first thing asked, given the chance!"
Stas snorted, disagreeing. But Jun didn't care.
"Alright, as I've understood before, your world is complete crap. No warmasters, yokai, dragons, onmyoji, and no unusual techniques. Frankly, it's incredibly depressing. When you hear words like 'another world,' you expect something, well, unusual."
"In that regard, for me personally, it worked out flawlessly," Stas chuckled ironically, involuntarily remembering his arrival in this world.
"Show people of your world a stone moved by thought, and they'd wet their pants with excitement," the sensei lamented, leaning back. "But what I don't understand is why, in all these years, you haven't come up with anything here? Your world is full of bizarre things; you could've built something simple here, too."
"Rookie mistake," Ordyntsev shook his head. "Yes, in my world, many people delude themselves that if they end up in another world, they'll flourish. 'He who was a nobody will become everything.'[2] But in fact, all their knowledge, even assuming they know something, is worthless. Because there's a world of difference between knowing and being able to. Besides, there are other reasons like society's negative reaction to novelties…"
"In short, you're inept," Jun concluded under Ordyntsev's outraged look. "Don't flash those eyes at me, don't flash. We are men of war. We don't sow or plow; we kill. And that is our calling. Creating something is not our way. We destroy and take pride in it!"
"Speak for yourself, sensei," Stas was offended. "I'm a healer and won't give up my calling. As I've healed people, so I will continue to heal. I'll leave all those deadly battles to someone else. To you, for instance."
"Ah, such naivety," the burly man grinned wickedly, scratching his hairy chest. "And yet you believe it, look how puffed up you are. You know, we were all once chubby and innocent infants, who surely didn't think about who they would become. But the years go by, and here we are."
"I don't see your point." Stas demonstratively poured himself more tea while, with a look of disgust, set his cup aside and chugged from his sake bottle.
"Oh, you see it perfectly," the sensei chuckled. "You already can't live without all this," he glanced around their room, though he meant something entirely different. Unexpectedly, he changed the subject. "You do want to go back, right?"
Stas's silence was his answer. Jun nodded in satisfaction.
"But there's a problem. If I believe everything you've told me about your world, you'll be an outsider there. These earthlings of yours will fear you and not trust you. Because you'll be capable of things they can't even imagine! What more can be said, even the same samurai fear us, though they also know a thing or two. Yes, if you somehow ditch everything you've achieved here, maybe you'll get by. But you won't do that, will you? You've tasted true power, and you won't be lured back to the bland chowder of an ordinary person."
"Sensei, what do you want from me?" Stas grumbled irritably, gulping down his entire cup. His mood was deteriorating. "My mood is already in the gutter."
"You're so impatient," Jun grinned. "I see perfectly well that you're looking for a way to leave our hospitable little world. And the Kami see, I don't blame you at all. Our world is indeed a dung heap. But yours will be even worse in some ways! A boring and mean place where not the strongest survives, but rather, the most adapted…" Jun was still talking, but Stas was no longer listening.
"Hold on," Ordyntsev narrowed his eyes suspiciously. If anyone, he couldn't be called inattentive. And Jun's strange behavior was alarming. "Why such concern about whether I'll return home or not? This isn't like you."
"As if I can't worry about the future of my best student," began Jun, but Stanislav's suspicions only intensified.
The sensei was clearly evasive. And if one summarizes everything said and makes some conclusions...
"That's why you care so much," a guess shot through his mind like lightning. "You also want to bail. That's why you care where I'm headed because you don't want to go to my world!"
"I taught you too well," the sensei grimaced, whose intrigue had been so quickly uncovered. "Yes, I also want to bail and hope you'll take me with you. I'm bored with this world, and I want new experiences. And about your world, I spoke the pure truth. It's no place for you there. What's good about your world that we don't even have here..."
Jun froze, his mouth open as if he'd seen a ghost or something scarier. Stas set his bowl aside.
He had a bad feeling.
"Mead." Jun exhaled, slowly looking down at Stas. A thick vein bulged on his forehead. "It's not you who invented mead, is it? Mead is an invention of your world?!"
Stas began to stand up unnoticed.
"Why, you little scoundrel, you made just one drink? Why did you keep the others to yourself?!"
The sensei's lunging hand grabbed only air, as Stas, having boosted his prana to the max, literally teleported away. The angry scream only spurred him on, making him run faster.
Jun Sumada's alcoholism sometimes took truly frightening proportions.
[1] Translator's note: there's no suitable term in english, but the closest should be "I-don't-give-a-damn-ism."
[2] Translator's note: the correct translation here should be "We are nothing, let us be all." since it's a quote from "The Internationale," but the literal translation makes more sense in the story's context.