He heard the approaching footsteps of the servants coming down the hill. He turned around to see them carrying pastries, dried fruits, small bags full of nuts probably stolen, or as they’d argue “borrowed”, from the pantry, and most importantly of all, Lydia had brought the helmets.

“Why was Becket all the way up here?” Lydia panted. “I thought you wanted to split them up while in camp.”

“We also wanted them to turn up at midday,” Stick explained, while he placed everything they brought inside his [Inventory]. “There were some complications with the knights today, but it’s taken care of.”

“Is that why you started the fire ahead of time?”

“I don’t know, something’s wrong,” Stick responded.

The smokescreen was way too big. Much bigger than they had planned for. The servants all exchanged worried looks.

It was Lydia who ran ahead first. “No use in standing around. Come on! Chop, chop!”

Stick and the other servants lost no time and quickly followed her to the shanty town. The first row of shanties had already caught fire from the outside and when passing directly between, the furthest distance away from both, Stick felt a heatwave assaulting him from either side. These fires are way too hot!

image [https://i.imgur.com/HXVPpT0.jpeg]

“Everybody! To the well!” Lydia yelled. “Make a bucket brigade!”

They ran towards the safe end of the shanty town where the smoke and heat didn’t reach yet, and the servants immediately got to work, forming a line from the last row where the well was located up to the two in the first row. Why is only one row burning?

Stick didn’t get a good look into the shanties in the second row, but he’d swear they were empty inside. Where’s all the fuel?

“Gods, damn it!” someone yelled. “What is happening?”

Stick didn’t have time to dwell on the implications, as he spotted the twins, Shadis, the stolen horse and a few miners in the space between the shanty town and the slave camp. Cadmun was hunched over the tied-up Becket, who was now awake.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I told you it won’t work!” Becket yelled.

“Shut up!” Cadmun screamed.

Cadmun reached down to grab Reacher’s sword and pulled it out of the scabbard. The moment the sword was unsheathed, it disappeared out of Cadmun’s hand. He was furious. What the fuck?

“You can’t steal from a Player Inventory, you thick head!” Becket cried out.

When Stick approached, Cadmun turned his anger towards him. “Stick, what is the meaning of this?”

“What’s going on?” Stick asked.

“Why can I not get a hold of it?” Cadmun shouted, as the sword disappeared from his hand once again. “Is it true that you can’t steal from Players?”

Becket butted in: “Just surrender now and your punishment will be less severe than if you go through with whatever you’re up to.”

“I said shut up!” Cadmun yelled.

“Stick, did you know about this? Did you set us up?” Jacoby inquired.

Becket laughed, “Maybe he did.”

The men all turned towards Stick, their animosity was palpable.

“If you knew about this…” Sir Moore muttered as he brandished the rust axe.

He was cut short by Varyan holding him back. “Let him talk.”

Stick tried to defend himself: “No, I’ve received plenty of things from other Players before.”

“But have you stolen directly from them?” Varyan asked.

Stick’s breath fell short and it was all the answer they needed. In the blink of an eye, chaos broke out in the group.

“This was a mistake!” Michael bit his fingernails, nervously looking around, his eyes darting from one direction to the other. “Reacher will be back any minute now. There’s no way we can defend ourselves against him, let alone Stamos. They’ll be onto us like rabid dogs.”

I fucked up.

“You imbecile!” one of the miners shouted. “How could you not think of that?”

I fucked up.

“You idiotic piece of shit!” another added. “Everything’s fucked!”

“No, I-” Stick wanted to say.

I fucked up.

Over the panicked and confused yelling, Stick made out Becket’s voice: “You’ve turned everyone against you! No Initiation can save you now. That’s what you deserve for joining the NPCs. You’ve given the Baron a convenient excuse to have those lords killed!”

He looked to Varyan for help or any kind of support, but for the first time since he met him, Varyan looked terrified. His chest rapidly swelled up and down with panicked breaths. Jacoby tried to put a reassuring hand on his twin brother’s shoulder, but at the same time, he had to hide his blank stare with his other trembling hand to save face. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.

Stick felt nauseous and desperate and angry all at the same time. In front of him, the people he wanted to help stood in terror, the fear of death written all over their faces. Behind him, people who trusted him fought to save their homes from a raging fire he told them to set up. All because of his stupidity. It all felt so unreal. He wanted to rip his hair out. Maybe if he did, he’d trigger some part of his brain that would wake him up from this nightmare. PP was right. I am no hero.

The noises distorted and he lost the feeling in his fingers. He was about to pass out. What have I done?

Suddenly, a loud violent thump brought him back to reality. Cadmun had punched Becket square across the face.