Captain Angleton skillfully filled out the paperwork for his dismissal from the army, artfully stating his reasons and intentions to join Lord Walker’s growing house.

Meanwhile, he stood in front of his troops, giving them what could most likely be the final speech he would give as captain of Dorchester’s army.

“You’ve all joined the army for your own reasons. However, each of your paths has led you here, to today. Many of you were once part of the hunter squads, road crews, or scouts. You’ve seen firsthand how political interests have interfered with our duties to the citizenry of this great city.

When given the chance to join the elites, you took it. Here, you expected to fight on the frontlines against the dangers of the wilds, protecting and defending Dorchester from the terrors it will face. But, instead, your training was cut short, thrusting you into a war against the kobald threat.

While no one's fault, you were cheated out of your promised training. For that, I apologize.

Then, after having taken the field against the enemy, you were forced to fight a suicidal battle to close a portal to the kobald’s plane. Against all odds, you prevailed. While unbelievable, it’s true. A danger the likes of which generations of citizens had never imagined was stopped by you… true elites of Dorchester.

As a result of that victory, you were tasked with a greater responsibility. The kobalds, while pushed back, were not defeated. Replacing their lost troops with reserves from the mountain, they continued their push above ground. But, you were not deterred!

Alongside your brothers and sister, you fought hard to return to Dorchester. And after you succeeded, you rejoined the army’s main force and were ordered to reinforce the weakening lines, once more throwing yourself into danger to defend the city you call home.

But, instead of support, you were again given a suicide mission. This time, not due to the vagaries of fate, but by the will of the army you dedicated your lives to. Army command sent you all off to die, sacrificed so that the kobalds would over-commit to their offensive. And for that, I can only once again apologize.

As your captain, it was my responsibility to lead you to victory, and in that regard, I failed.

It was not me who led us out of that trap, but a humble young Lord who refused to stand by and watch us die.

Perhaps it was fate that led him to be watching our struggle, or maybe just chance. Either way, when the portal opened on the mountain… he was there. When the kobald horde overtook us… he was there. When the siege wyrms brought the ceiling down on top of us… HE WAS THERE!

I know following me into his service may not be the right choice for many of you. You all have families and responsibilities that you shouldn’t leave behind.

But, for me, this is something I feel I must do.

Lord Walker does not talk about his honor, integrity, or commitment to excellence… he demonstrates it everyday. He does not waste words proclaiming his virtues… he displays them proudly for all to see.

From the moment he arrived in our city, he rose up from his commoner beginnings to earn the title of Lord by defending the city from one of its traitorous nobles. He then earned his victory in the arena, trouncing an assassin sent to end his rise by more petty and vindictive nobles. Time and time again he stood against those who’d block his path, adamantly refusing to give in. He then joined us as an elite, setting aside the comfortable life he could have had as a noble and thereby earning our respect.

Then, on the mountain, after facing more assassins and defying more nobles, he took up his magic and decimated the kobalds by the hundreds, personally closing the portal that would have been our doom.

None of us would be here today if it weren’t for his personal intervention.”

Pausing his speech, he looked around at his assembled troops, his firm gaze locking eyes with every one of the elites under his command. He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding in his chest like a jackhammer, the subject and contents of his speech too much for him to handle. Never in his life had he meant what he said so much as this moment.

“I will follow Lord Walker along his path, hoping that I will find my own. I don’t know where he intends to go, or what he intends to face, but I’ll be standing alongside him, facing it with what I hope is conviction enough to carry us through. If any of you wish to join me, you’re welcome.

I’ve spoken with Grandmaster Lancel, and have been given his blessing. In his own words, ‘If we send off the pride of Dorchester into danger without supporting him, then what is left for our walls to defend? Go, protect him as he carves his legend into the world, and represent Dorchester as his faithful knight. Always remember your oaths of knighthood. While you may no longer be a knight of Dorchester, you will always remain a knight of Oglivarch!’

So, my companions, who will follow Lord Walker with me into the unknown?”

—--

He’d had much more experience reading pings than he had creating them, so Nero shouldn’t have been surprised when things didn’t progress as smoothly as he’d hoped they would.

To: Ms. Natalie Keening

From: Me

I’d first like to express a common phrase thanking you for your support. Think about that time we were in the same place together and you said a bunch of stuff about how your life sucked so you decided to follow me. Then there was that shared experience we had or something. Now you think that I care and have a personal connection with you. In the future, make sure to keep problems and issues that I don’t want to worry about away from me while doing your own thing. You’re the one in charge of personal relations and stuff, so don’t make me look bad. I’m giving you all the responsibility because I don’t want to do it. Remember that you think I care and that your job should be important to you. If you run into any problems, you should figure them out on your own.

As Nero had gotten better at ‘reading’ pings by letting them mingle with his mind, injecting their information directly into his consciousness, he’d instantly done the same thing when he opened up the reply function. Instead of coming out as a well-polished propaganda message, he accidentally created a P.R. nightmare just waiting to happen.

The message was composed so quickly, that he almost sent it off without reading it. Luckily, he managed to stop himself in time.

Easing back on the mental connection to his link, Nero’s face paled as he read what he’d just written. ‘OK. Mental note, don’t let the freaky mind computer interpret your intentions,’ he warned himself.

Quickly deleting the message, he tried again. This time, he carefully thought about what he wanted to specifically write down, rather than just letting the reply fill itself out based on what he was thinking.

To: Ms. Natalie Keening

From: Lord Nero Walker

Before anything else, I’d like to thank you for your unwavering dedication to The Walker Adventuring Company and all that it stands for. When I first heard your story at the Verena estate, I felt an immediate connection to your struggles. We all strive to break out of the lives we’ve been stuck in, but very few of us have the courage to go through with it. I knew from the moment I met you that you were destined for great things. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you will lead the wackos to glory, earning both achievements and wealth. Have no fear, the wackos will come to trust you, just as much as I do. That is, as long as you address their concerns promptly and with the wisdom you have shown time and time again. I may be the face of the W.A.C. but you are its heart. Be assertive, be confident, and be in charge. If you ever have questions or need my support, I’ll be there to back you up. However, I doubt someone of your talents will need much help, so instead I’ll just say thank you for all of your hard work and congratulate you for a job well done. Keep working hard, and I’m sure you’ll succeed in your quest for greatness.

Nero quickly looked over what he had written, his smile growing wider as he nodded along with each line of bullshit. He had to admit, while it wasn’t super inspiring like some of the crap he’d read back home, it should sufficiently get the job done.

It wasn’t like he didn’t like the woman or anything, but her story of wanting to find a sense of relevance in the world was so cliched that he couldn’t summon up the energy to give a shit. Everybody had a story, and when it came down to it, they were all basically the same. Life sucks, and they want something more.

Yet, she had stepped up to lead the wackos, and he was more than happy to let her do it. He’d read enough corporate encouragement emails to know how to inspire her to get the job done. Back when he’d first started out, he’d fallen for a few of them himself.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

He recalled the ill-fated promotional campaign he’d tried when he’d first ascended to the position of store manager. The memory of working for weeks to convince corporate to give him funding for his banners and signs still caused him stomach pains. Then there was that dumbass cell phone costume he’d made that poor kid Kyle wear. He could still remember the smell of sweaty plastic and shame.

Shaking off the memory, Nero reread what he’d written one more time before sending it off through the Battle Hub. Hopefully, it would encourage the woman and keep her focused on heading off any problems before he needed to deal with them.

Perhaps in the future, he’d give her a bonus or something to make up for dumping everything off on her. Maybe a pizza party meet-and-greet for all the wackos when they get back to Dorchester. Despite how pointless events like that are, they never fail to inspire team-building and cohesion amongst the staff. Plus, pizza was awesome. So, it was a win-win for everybody.

Moving on, Nero opened the next ping and carefully typed another few lines of encouragement. He made sure to reference what the person had written, giving the reply a sense of his personal attention. He knew it wasn’t much, but as the leader, it didn’t have to be. From what he could tell, any attention at all he paid to them was much more than they were expecting.

Nero knew that he needed to foster a sense of detachment while making sure that they knew he cared about them. After some time, he’d probably end up getting more involved with their lives, but this was a good first step. ‘Minimal involvement, maximum results,’ he said to himself with a grin.

“Are you even listening?” Nick asked, annoyed that Nero wasn’t paying attention.

Blinking a few times while he mentally stepped back from the connection to his link, Nero asked, “Huh? What?”

Seeing Nick’s frowning face, Nero immediately went on the attack. “Oh, are you guys done emotionally dissecting me? Can we talk about magic now?”

Instead of continuing with what he was going to say, Nick began stuttering in offense at Nero’s accusation.

Academian Quincy smoothly stepped in to cover for him. “We were just discussing the idea of you seeing a qualified mind healer to study your mind/soul connection. While we don’t think there is an immediate danger of disassociation, we don’t want to prematurely rule out the possibility.”

Nero’s confusion was evident on his face, and all he could do was stare at them blankly as he tried to work through what they were saying. ‘These assholes think I need a shrink?’ he concluded angrily.

“Absolutely not!” he growled.

Nick held up his hands as if pleading for Nero to listen to him. “If you had been paying attention, you’d see that our concerns are not without reason. As a soul from -”

Standing up from the bench, Nero interrupted him before he could get going. “I get it, you’re worried about me, and that’s actually kinda nice. But you don’t have to be. I’m fine. I’ve already taken steps to start creating emotional ties with the wackos and I recognize that I’ve been a little too selfish. However, I don’t think it’s all that surprising that I’ve felt a little out of place since coming here. Everything about you people is weird to me, and I’m still getting my footing,” he said calmly, trying to sound like the reasonable one in the conversation.

When being confronted with someone who was advocating for him to seek mental help, he knew it was a bad idea to sound too defensive about it. He’d seen enough intervention shows to know that sounding like a lunatic wasn’t conducive to avoiding getting his head shrunk.

Academian Quincy and Nick shared one of their looks, probably speaking over a private mental connection they’d set up. Nero couldn’t help but narrow his eyes in annoyance at the feeling of being left out. ‘I wonder how many times people have been talking behind my back about me right in front of me without me noticing,’ he thought to himself.

With a calm voice, Academian Quincy reluctantly said, “I suppose you have a point. As we discussed, we also don’t have a frame of reference for how social interactions worked in your previous world. So, it’s feasible that your tendency to keep yourself emotionally distant isn’t as much of a warning sign as we thought it was.”

Nick put his hands on his hips and grunted disapprovingly. “If he doesn’t address this now, he’ll never develop the emotional stability to join a spell circle,” he declared emphatically.

Nero suddenly regretted not having paid attention to what they were talking about.

“What’s this about spell circles?” he asked excitedly.

Rolling his eyes, Nick replied, “We were just discussing this right in front of you!”

Academian Quincy’s smile looked a little strained as he took up the explanation. “Spell circles are made by mages working together to develop and manage a communal spell form.”

Nero nodded, understanding what the academian was getting at. “Like the shield spells that were protecting the army. I remember struggling to join my essence field to the people powering it.”

“Exactly,” replied Academian Quincy.

Nick still looked pissed but was unable to stop himself from starting his lecture. “That’s correct. From what I witnessed, I could see that you don’t have sufficient control of your essence field to sublimate it into a greater whole. Spell circles require you to manually resonate your emotional state and identity in order to achieve synchronization with the mages around you. Together, you can cast and maintain a level of magic that would be impossible on your own.”

Nero nodded in agreement, stating, “Yeah, I already figured all that out. It’s like choosing to join a monster mob, becoming one of the many. It felt too weird, and I didn’t like how it was messing with my mind.”

“It’s an important skill for a war mage,” Nick admonished quickly.

Waving his hand in dismissal, Nero replied, “I’m not saying it isn’t. I’m just not interested in it at the moment. There are much more important things we could be working on.”

Academian Quincy interrupted the burgeoning argument with his curiosity. “Like what?” he asked.

Nero smiled up at the man and said, “Like more complicated spell forms. Or different essence streams that I haven’t worked with yet. My repertoire is still pretty basic, and I need to see more examples of different spells if I hope to develop anything more complicated than simple stuff that I’ve already figured out. Also, stuff like teleportation and other things I can do with my collected essence. You know… the basics.”

Interested, Academian Quincy asked, “What do you mean by collected essence?”

Nero paused for a moment to try and remember whether that was a term he’d come up with himself or if he’d heard it somewhere. After shrugging to himself when he decided it didn’t matter, Nero replied, “It’s what I call the essence that I pull in to fuel my mage armor. I figured out that it could also fuel my spells if I specifically tie them to it. It’s how I was able to carry my spell forms with me as I ran around the kobald encampment causing mischief.”

Academian Quincy sputtered a very out-of-character laugh. “Mischief? You call that mischief?”

Nick, however, didn’t let himself get distracted. “So, you managed to figure out how to tether spells to your essence shield on your own? That’s remarkable! Did you also manage to solve the assimilation and conservation problem? I’ve read that most novice war mages struggle with that.”

Nero didn’t exactly know what the ‘assimilation and conservation’ problem was, but he could take a guess. “It wasn’t too difficult, I just had to manually refill the essence bubble I was carrying around. It would be easier if I could figure out a way to have my collected essence automatically feed off the ether on its own, but I’m not sure how to make it do that.”

From the look on Academian Quincy’s face, Nero wondered if the man’s brain was overheating. If it weren’t for the translation magic of the world picking up the slack, Nero had no doubt that the man wouldn’t have any idea what Nero was talking about.

Nick, on the other hand, had long since grown used to Nero making up his own terms and kept up with the explanation without any problems.

Rubbing his chin in thought, Nick replied, “Well, I’m not sure if what you're suggesting is even possible. The entire point of an essence shield is to isolate the essence you’ve taken under your control from the ambient essence flows in the ether. Connecting your personal flows with the ether would result in a metaphysical contradiction.”

Nero frowned in thought, somewhat understanding what Nick was saying. Yet, he found himself unable to accept such an absolute when it came to something like magic. The entire point of magic was its potential achievement of the impossible. With a little thought and some effort, he was more than confident he’d figure it out.

Changing the subject, Nero said, “Well, it was just a thought. Instead of that, how about you guys show me some spells I’ve never seen? I was promised some magic training, and all you two have done since we got out here is ask me questions. I’m not the one who’s supposed to be leading these lessons, oh-great-mages-of-Oglivarch!”

While Academian Quincy looked somewhat offended, Nick laughed out loud at Nero’s ribbing.

With a smile on his face, Nick replied, “Well, if you didn’t keep doing things that were so outside of our abilities, we wouldn’t have to ask for any explanations. It’s rather difficult to teach a pupil who is both simultaneously more advanced than us and so uninformed.”

Nero chuckled along with him, unable to argue with the backhanded praise. “Yeah, I’m an idiot savant, sue me. Can we move it along now?”

Academian Quincy’s eyes danced in delight as he whispered to himself, “Idiot savant! A person who is both naturally skilled and clueless. What an interesting concept!”

Nero heard the academian’s muttered nonsense. While that was exactly what Nero had meant when he’d said it, he knew that wasn’t what an ‘idiot savant’ actually was. However, considering the developmental disorders usually associated with the phenomenon, and the frankly uncomfortable conversations needed to clarify what he’d meant, he decided to let the man’s interpretation stand. Besides, Nero doubted he’d ever use the term for anything other than that particular interpretation of the definition anyway.

Having a thought, Nero looked over at Academian Quincy and asked, “Hey, if I were to tell you that your hat looks ‘gay’, what do you think ‘gay’ means?”

Academian Quincy’s face scrunched in confusion before replying, “Well, doesn’t ‘gay’ in this context mean a social failure of fashion choice? Or in other words, ‘lame’?”

Glancing up at the floating light hovering over Academian Quincy’s hat, Nero couldn’t stop himself from chuckling. “Yeah, that’s what it means. Just checking to see how the world translated it. Don’t worry about it.”

Nero was once again amazed at how the world chose to translate what he meant to say, rather than what he actually said. The social context and history of the words he was using didn’t seem to be passed along unless he meant them to be. While it successfully eliminated a lot of the subjectively perceived insults that ended up causing friction in his old world, he couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful that he would never again get chewed out for poorly choosing his words.

Letting the subject drop, Nero returned to what he’d wanted to talk about since they’d arrived… magic.

“So, are you guys gonna show me some new spell forms, or am I going to go back to my tent and read?” he asked cheekily.