The next morning, Rowan realized that it was time.

He had dragged his feet the past few days with the festival and everything. He was as ready as he would ever be. It was time for him to do his duty, to lead expeditions into the waste.

With Olivia, he slipped into the meeting room with the chamberlain and the baroness on the particularly chilly morning and shared the good news.

“The preparations are mostly complete. The old army is now entirely at the rare tier and several of the most promising new recruits are starting to bump up against that tier as well,” Rowan stated proudly.

Unfortunately, Rowan seemed to be the only one who was excited about that. The chamberlain was still doubtful of the effectiveness of putting so much experience into the hands of non-elites while Camilla had grudgingly accepted Rowan’s strategy. He still hoped that the results would win both of them over.

“I’ve also prepared enough potions to support an expedition too,” Olivia said, though the slight bags under her eyes showed she had pushed herself to accomplish that.

Of course, Rowan would have looked the same if it weren’t for his regeneration card. After all, he woke up with her and watched her work, keeping her company.

“And you think you’re ready?” Camilla asked. Rowan shook his head. “We only get one chance at this. We still have two weeks from when we need to make an expedition. You don’t want to use all that time?”

“This is the best time,” Rowan answered. “With the festival being a success, we need a show of might. If we wait and go out later, we risk new variables entering the equation.”

“Fine,” Camilla agreed surprisingly easily. “But we can’t do this quietly. Not when the whole kingdom is watching and waiting to see how you perform.”

“I can’t just slip out with the army without anyone knowing where we’re going?” Rowan sighed as he knew the answer to that. “Won’t a big announcement open us up to ambushes? We still don’t know who ordered the assassination, but that hardly matters when they can strike against us directly out in the wilderness. Especially if they know that we’re going to be gone from the town for a while.”

“Whoever they are, they’re clearly worried about getting caught. This implies they at least can’t risk publicly being seen as responsible,” Camilla dissected her learnings. “They won’t be able to act out of the ordinary either. We haven’t found them because they’ve entrenched themselves in the city. If they suddenly try to change their behavior, we’ll notice it.”

“That… makes sense,” Rowan allowed, then asked the same question that had been bothering him for days. “Any news on the insignia we discovered at that inn? Or the ring?”

The baroness looked like she’d bitten into something sour, and the expression made her face look far more severe than it usually did. “No. I reached out to some of my acquaintances, but the underground guild was clearly started and based in Rest’s Remorse. There’s still something bothering me about that eye motif. I’ll keep digging.”

Rowan nodded, pleased that there was some news for once, even if they weren’t exactly positive. “Then let’s make the announcement tomorrow, and handle things as they come.”

—

The announcement was a mess.

Some things were good. The town, still high on the embers of the festival, wholeheartedly approved the expedition even though failure would rob the town of its army. The army, still settling into their new classes, were thrilled at the chance to further prove themselves.

But the mercenaries, who had been standoffish the whole time, changed.

All of a sudden, every two bit mercenary in town was thrilled about the idea of applying to accompany the expedition. It was the most extreme change in attitude Rowan had ever seen. There were people who just a day or two earlier were sneering at him, now believed their chance for glory was in the expedition. It must have given them whiplash from how hard they’d pivoted.

Even two of the three largest mercenary companies had contacted them with offers of troops and supplies.

Rowan and the baroness rejected each and every one.

“You know, if this had happened when we just got here, I would have pushed for us to accept them all,” Rowan muttered, eyes narrowed as he glanced over the latest letter asking that a minor company be allowed to join the army for the duration of the expedition.

The baroness scoffed. “Yes, and I would have likely allowed it. I don’t know if this is going to work but our inspection yesterday showed that your troops are reliable. More than I can say for these mercenary companies.”

Rowan was inordinately pleased with that admission, even if he tried not to show it. Camilla Sutton wasn’t someone who gave out compliments lightly.

“Anyway, we’re rejecting all of them, right?” Rowan asked.

“Of course. The change in attitude alone is worrying. You know yourself that none of them were willing to support us before,” Camilla said.

“Do you think it has something to do with our accomplishments, the assassination attempt, or the celebration we put on?”

Rowan strongly suspected this had something to do with Tamara but after the mage blatantly admitting that she was against Camilla, Rowan held the information back. The woman had seemed eager to clear her name of the accusations against her, even if Rowan didn’t understand why. It wasn’t like he was in a position to take on an entire mercenary company at the moment.

“This is probably a mix of wanting to get some of their people into your army so they can spy or try something more malicious,” Camilla said. “There’s probably also some good intentioned people. Now that people know you better, they feel safer following your lead. Still, not a good enough reason to just accept them.”

Rowan agreed with that sentiment. If he accepted mercenaries who wanted to join up simply because they felt safer now, there was every chance they would abandon him when they felt the opposite. It was much, much better to take only the people he could trust with him.

Of course, his army was still untested. But the hero felt that the time they spent together was enough to at least give them the benefit of the doubt.

—

There was one final thing Rowan had to do before his troops were fully ready to set off, and it wasn’t very pleasant. As he stalked in front of the rows of soldiers, he struggled to open his mouth.

He was a hero, though, and even more importantly, their leader.

“As you well know, we will be heading out on our very first expedition together soon. I would love to say it won’t be dangerous. That all of you are guaranteed to make it back. I can’t do that.”

Rowan took a deep breath, then looked at his soldiers, pausing to lock eyes with a couple of them. None of them seemed cowed by his words. If anything, they just looked more determined.

“This is why I want each and every one of you to write a will. You can find the paper and writing supplies at the administrative office attached to your barracks. You can also have one of the clerks pen a will for you, if you don’t know how to write yourself. In the will, you’ll need to designate a beneficiary, or beneficiaries, if that’s what you prefer.”

Once again, Rowan paused, letting them just absorb his words.

“Your designated beneficiary will receive all personal effects, wealth, and whatever we can recover and bring back to them should you fall. They will also receive monetary support from the mayor’s office.”

There wasn’t much he could do for those left behind if their loved one didn’t come back. Still, he could make sure they didn’t starve or immediately slip back into poverty. After all, his new recruits had just improved their own standings.

“That would be all. Prepare. Spend some time with the people you love. We will be setting off tomorrow, marching against the demons.”

—

That evening, Rowan found himself standing in front of the baroness’s study.

She had requested to see him, but the way she had phrased the message had him hesitating to before the door.

Odds were, she wanted to talk about Olivia.

While he was busy building up courage and dreaming up a thousand and one silly scenarios for how things might go wrong, he was suddenly embraced from behind.

“What’s got you worrying so much?” Olivia’s voice was low and teasing, and Rowan immediately relaxed. The idea of facing down her mother with her by his side was nowhere near as terrifying as doing it alone.

“Camilla asked you to come too?” Rowan asked, turning around and leaning against the door.

She let him pull off the maneuver, but kept sticking to him in a way that made him blush.

“Yeah. I was wondering what it was about. Want to make her keep waiting while we spend a bit of time together out here?” Olivia asked in her special voice that Rowan found very hard to say no to.

Before Rowan made the cardinal mistake of saying yes to Olivia, the baroness’ voice emanated from beyond the door and brought everything to order.

“I really don’t know whether you’re bold or stupid to flirt in front of an assassin’s door. Just come in, the both of you.”

At least she sounded more resigned than angry, Rowan thought to himself as he rearranged his clothes and pushed the door open. He ignored the way Olivia was pouting at him.

“How can we help you this fine evening, Lady Sutton?” Rowan noticed that he was picking up the same speech patterns as Camilla, resorting to formality when uncomfortable.

“I have a couple of things for you before you set off.” Camilla gestured at two packages on her desk. One was long and thin, all wrapped up in expensive leather. Next to it was a smaller package, something Rowan identified as a box wrapped in paper. “I was also going to leave you with a couple warnings, but I don’t really think that’s worth much at this point. I strongly suspect my daughter will be the danger, rather than vice versa.”

Rowan had just managed to improve his composure, but now it was in tatters once more and his cheeks were scarlet. Olivia managed to keep her reaction down to a very smug, cat-like grin. She didn’t even bother to reply to the accusation.

“Go on, then, take these,” Camilla said. “The smaller one’s yours, daughter.”

Olivia complied, and Rowan fought down his mortification for long enough to do the same.

The second he picked up his package, he knew exactly what was inside.

A spear.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Rowan’s eager fingers were surprisingly clumsy as he struggled to undo the leather straps holding the weapon hostage. In spite of that, he had to admire the overall quality of the packaging. The leather was dark, ridiculously soft, and oiled. The straps were distanced by about five inches from each other, and they kept the spear secure within its protective covering.

When Rowan finally unfurled it, he even discovered there were smaller straps attaching the spear directly to the roll of leather.

Of course, what caught his attention far more was the weapon itself. It was a work of art.

The body of the weapon looked like it was forged out of a single, solid piece of metal. The metal itself was dark as night, with flecks of color that resembled stars strewn throughout. Subtle grooves marked the spear’s length, making it easier to grip it more firmly.

What really made the weapon stand out was its front half. The head of the weapon was jagged and vicious. The spear tip was made to sink into flesh and savage its target. The blade was a little over a foot long, which was perhaps the best indication that this was a monster slaying tool instead of one meant to be used against other people.

Just before the sharp edges of the spear tip melted into the shaft, was a blood-red icosahedron crystal. Each edge promised misery, sharp and gleaming under the light. In fact, the crystal wasn’t forged into the spear. Instead, what looked like veins of scarlet emanated from the crystal and merged into the spear.

Frankly, Rowan was terrified of even touching the spear, not because he thought it was cursed, but because of the sheer value he imagined it had.

“Stop staring at it like that,” Camilla laughed, clear and clean and thoroughly amused. “I can’t tell you how much that cost. Actually can’t. My husband handled it and pulled on a ton of favors to get it done besides. Favors that were owed to him from when he was a duke. So, take it.”

Finally, Rowan did. And the second his fingers brushed against the spear, a status window popped out.

You have come in contact with an unbound soul artifact. Do you wish to bind to the item and reveal its properties?

Spear of The Blood Well

This spear was forged out of the remains of a vicious ancient artifact that once grew mighty enough to threaten even the gods. Its wielder was slain, its spirit crushed, and its body broken. All that was left behind was a mere spark. That spark was enough to birth the seed of a new legend.

This spear will feast on the blood its wielder spills and grow alongside them.

Oddly, when Rowan’s fingers firmed up on the weapon and the familiar chill descended on his thoughts, he felt complete. It felt like a piece of him was finally slotted back in. When the link took hold, it improved some innate quality he didn’t even know he possessed. His nose felt stuffy all of a sudden.

With a shuddering breath, Rowan raised his eyes to meet Camilla’s. “I can’t possibly do enough to repay you for this. Thank you.”

The woman seemed to think little of his thanks. “Don’t. It’s our duty as your patrons. However, if you must repay me somehow, use that to skewer anyone who goes after my daughter.”

“I was already planning on that.”

“Hey!” Ignoring the distraction of her own gift, Olivia felt the urge to intervene. “You know, it’s a bit weird to hear the two of you bonding over the idea of killing people.”

Rowan grinned. “Sorry, what did you get?”

Olivia held up a very odd, long arm guard, more of a vambrace, really, with slots in the leather.

“It’s neat,” Olivia gushed. “See here? I can slot in potions, and they’ll stay connected to my skin. This way, I can just keep copying potion effects for my attacks without having to grip one with my left hand.”

Rowan made some noises about how smart the item’s design was and watched as Camilla seemed to puff up out the corner of his eyes.

They spent the next few hours together talking about the expedition and what to expect. Even without getting a new spear, Rowan would have enjoyed spending that time bonding with Olivia and her scary mother.

It paid to have a good relationship with one’s potential in-laws, after all, and Rowan only freaked out a little when he realized that he now considered the baroness as a potential in-law.

—

It felt like the entire town had turned up to see them off on the day of their departure. Most of the mercenaries had slight scowls on their faces, on account of being turned down. The regular townsfolk, at least, had no such compunctions.

They cheered, they waved, and some would occasionally surge towards the marching soldiers to offer a bundle of food or trinkets.

Rowan saw more than one teary-eyed goodbye, but did his best to ignore those. A part of him wondered how many of his soldiers would never return from the expedition. He knew that it was a twisted way of looking at things, that these people were likely going to have a much worse life filled with poverty without him, but he still despised himself a little for recruiting new soldiers.

He was, knowingly and willingly, asking people to die for him in defense of a town that did very little for them.

Rowan gripped his spear, leaned into the cool confidence it instilled in him, and focused on the world passing him by instead.

Like before, it was misleading to call the area beyond the frontier as wastes. There was plenty to see. In a strange way, Rowan was even starting to enjoy the odd coloring of the jungle. It was like a child had decided to paint everything without ever seeing the real thing.

He soon grew tired of it.

In their past outings, the army stuck to the relative outskirts of the wastes. The trees were large and overgrown, and things were out to kill them. Every so often, the two problems became one. Some trees had thorny roots that whipped out of the earth when someone passed too close to them. Why those roots also had thorns when they were buried underground most of the time was a biological mystery.

But these were threats that Rowan could understand.

As the army ventured deeper, the threats became more varied. For one, their surroundings grew brighter from glowing fungal growth on the ground and nearby trees. Their enchanting glow was genuinely pleasing to look at.

“Masks!” Olivia yelled. “Find a piece of cloth and breathe through it, take slow breaths. Only exceptions are if you have a rare class or above forty points in vitality.”

The army slowly compiled. Rowan looked back in confusion. Olivia answered by pointing at the root of a tree. There, Rowan saw the body of a small creature, fungi bursting out of every inch of bone or rotting skin. It was easy to understand Olivia’s panic now. Around them, masks were already looking a little stained blue.

“You sure I don’t need a mask?” Rowan asked.

“You’ll be fine. Just a few spores,” Olivia said lightly. Rowan didn’t think a few spores was something ignore, especially with the corpses of animals around them. His face must have left a clue because Olivia continued on, “These are a common tier creature. They can’t infect anything more than one tier higher than them. Even if everyone breathed it in, they’ll only feel more tired and lethargic.”

At least the fauna was less tricky to deal with.

Throughout their march, various uncommon monsters would leap into their ranks before being put down by the rare and uncommon soldiers. There were only two notable exceptions.

The first had been a bit of a scare, but ultimately little more than a nuisance.

A small hummingbird, wings moving so quickly they were invisible, was suddenly just there in the middle of the troops. When it charged into the nearest soldier and rebounded off his chest armor, everyone laughed.

It then stabbed its proboscises-like beak into the man’s neck and the laughter stopped.

The frightened soldier gurgled and batted at the bird, but couldn’t get it off. It was only when one of his party members stepped forward and kicked the bird with the grace of a professional footballer that he was finally freed.

A squirt of blood shoot into the air out of his wound, but his fellows descended upon him immediately, feeding him a healing potion.

The bird, meanwhile, was entirely unharmed. It just buzzed louder, wings fluttering more quickly in anger, and tried again with a blood-smeared beak.

Chaos broke out from there, with people striking at the bird using everything from someone’s pack to fists to proper weapons. The little bugger was stunning resilient and when someone actually tried to trigger a card effect, their strikes somehow went through it.

In the end, it took Milena working with Rowan to bring it down. Her curse slowed the bird’s erratic movements and Rowan got the chance to skewer it with his brand new spear. It was alive for a few moments before the spear went to work, feasting on the bird’s blood. With such a small body, it only had a few twitches before going limp.

Before Rowan checked his loot screen, Marcus was already yelling.

“I didn’t even know you could have something like this! Do you realize how many possibilities this opens up? It counts as a shielding effect.”

To be fair, Rowan understood the fuss once he saw the card.

Ethereal Reprieve (Rare, Active)

Shield yourself from harm by temporarily turning your body incorporeal. The duration of the effect depends on the amount of mana invested. The cost of upkeep increases based on the amount of enemy mana trying to interfere with the effect.

Essentially, it was a battle of mana. Against mages or incorrectly built alchemists, the card wouldn’t be of much use. But against Rowan who had a low three-digit mana pool? Marcus would be nearly invincible. The card went to him, replacing one of his class skills.

Their second battle of the day was much harder, and explained why people didn’t just head into the deep wastes every other day for experience and loot.

It had been a few hours since the hummingbird. Scouts were sent further out to secure the perimeter but everyone was in a pretty upbeat mood. Rowan could almost hear the soldiers thinking that the demonic wastes weren’t that bad.

And then one of the soldiers started screaming.

Near the front, a female soldier frantically swiped her weapon around her and hit absolutely nothing. The claw marks perilously close to her jugular were proof enough she wasn’t delusional. Before they could help her, a second wound opened up on her throat and she collapsed to the ground.

“Close rank. Form up,” Rowan yelled. “It’s an invisible enemy. Stay alert. Keep close to your party and form up on me.”

A few seconds later, another soldier collapsed with half of his side missing. Then, a soldier lost a chunk of his arm. The invisible attacker was somehow everywhere. A spurt of blood erupted from a soldier whose lost a chunk of his thigh. Somewhat fortuitously, the spray of blood also left a few flecks of the liquid on the attacker, and a keen-eyed ranged fighter pointed out where it was.

“Melee stay back. Ranged, attack.”

A whole barrage of strikes hit the area, but instead of bringing it down, they made the monster angry.

The army suddenly found themselves staring at a short, vaguely humanoid weasel with a crazed look in its eye.

It smirked, shoved its bloody claws into its mouth, and its eyes started to glow red. The downed soldiers started screaming. Their veins bulged and squirmed like there was something wiggling inside.

To Rowan’s mounting horror, Marcus’ aura shielding was helpless. It didn’t save the soldiers from the attacks earlier and couldn’t bring an end to whatever the weasel was doing now.

Rowan tried to push forward but found his earlier orders working against him. Everyone was clumped together and he couldn’t get to the front quick enough. In his desperation, Rowan threw caution to the wind. He filled his weapon with as much mana and life-force as he could afford, and launched it.

With his dexterity and strength stats? His throw more than rivaled any ballista from his old world.

He didn’t quite manage to nail the monster head on, its instincts and dexterity helping it jerk to the side, but when the spear buried itself into the tree behind, the wood exploded in a shower of plant bits.

Luckily, that was enough to break the monster’s concentration and its ability’s effect.

It also provided the time needed for four rare tier soldiers to step forward and attack. The first of them led with a sword, edge shining and aimed straight for the monster’s heart. The dazed monster managed to dodge, slip between the man’s legs, and savage his ankles on the way out.

The second soldier wielded a spear and was one of the few solo users of the weapon in the army. His strike buried deep in the forest floor when the monster made a little hop, landing on the shaft of his weapon and scurrying up it. Before it could do damage, the third soldier launched some kind of close-range mana attack that launched the monster away.

The final soldier was the best of the group. She drove her dagger at the thing, weapon shining black. However, when the monster hopped to the side, face lit up in malicious glee, the soldier accelerated and drove the dagger into the monster’s shadow.

When the monster moved to strike against her, it suddenly found itself incapable of moving even a single muscle.

The third soldier returned to finish the job with a single heavy strike that would have been impossible without the others’ teamwork. It worked. The monster lost its head and the screaming subsided.

“What in the world was that?” Rowan asked, half paying attention to the trees around them for more attackers and half watching Olivia heal the wounded.

“That was probably a fully maxed out rare. And…” Milena trailed off, sounding distracted. Rowan didn’t have to guess what she was doing, since he knew exactly what could stop a conversation like that. “And my new card.”

A couple minutes later, the card that had caught her eye was in her deck and the rest of her party were admiring it. The delay mostly came down to the fact that they needed to calm down the wounded soldiers, and Rowan personally commended and rewarded the four soldiers who stepped forward first.

Blood Boiling (Rare, Active)

Draw on malice and anger towards your target to cause their blood to boil within their veins. You can designate up to four different targets for this spell effect. The spell effect will fail if the targets are behind wards or other magic defenses. However, once the effect is in place, it will only stop if you lose concentration or run out of mana. If you have drawn or tasted the target’s blood, the curse can bypass all magical defenses and its power is strengthened. The curse is also more effective when performed through an appropriate ritual.

It was, hands down, one of the most complicated cards Rowan had ever laid his eyes on. It was also one of the most exciting ones, since it was basically a checkmate as long as they got the target’s blood and more mana than an opponent.

Pulling himself up, Rowan scanned his army. After a day of basically hiking and fighting only, the men were getting tired. He ordered a quick march to create some distance from the last battlefield before they would set up camp for the day. For the first time, Rowan got to see the value of having so many followers.

Tents were set up in record time, neatly and to exact specifications. A group of soldiers broke off, building a cooking area from scratch and settling in for cooking a simplistic meal. Meanwhile, other soldiers formed a perimeter, went scouting, or even tried to chop down a tree or two for firewood.

In contrast, if the four of them were they alone, even just setting up sleeping shifts would have exhausted them.

As Rowan settled into a tent with Olivia that night, he was still patting himself on the back for his recruitment initiative.