There were rules to a group fight, patterns to follow and rhythms to obey. In movies on earth they made it seem simple. One actor would turn and move, head on a swivel, eyes darting about. In that, they weren’t very far off. Where they failed, however, was on the part of the assailants.

Nobody, alone or otherwise, was nice enough to give you the luxury of coming at you in turns. Most of the comics and manhwas—mostly the manhwas—Aiden had read did it best. A character would claim that he was busy and didn’t need his time wasted, then he would ask that the enemies come at him together.

In the real world, they most often always would.

On Nastild, in a world where skills were real and people grew strong enough to drop buildings when they put their mind to it, with the right skills and strength you could fight a group and get away with it.

Aiden couldn’t fight this group and get away with it, though. Not when they currently had the upper hand. He wasn’t fast enough and he wasn’t nearly strong enough.

The man with the spear, the only one without a hand-claw, jabbed his spear threateningly at Otid. “Don’t make me repeat myself. What did you do with Jazna?”

Otid frowned and Aiden could see the man considering their chances of taking all eight men. Nine, if they counted the man Aiden had thrown into a tree.

It wouldn’t have been Aiden’s choice but Otid was spoiling for a fight. The man didn’t like being threatened by men smaller than him.

The man with the spear settled its point squarely on Otid’s chest. “Silence will get you nowhere.”

Otid’s hands balled into fists and Taliner spoke immediately.

“We didn’t do anything.”

The man looked at her. “I see you all huddled over my friend and I’m supposed to believe you?”

Taliner pointed above them and the man looked up.

His jaw dropped, aghast. “Tiny! Temper!”

Aiden barely held back the chuckle that threatened to pass his lips. In the end, he succeeded in limiting it to a smile. Sometimes, Nastild threw curve balls at him.

Otid’s hand moved in the moments of the man’s despair and snatched the spear, grabbing it just beneath its blade. The man next to Taliner moved to intercept him and got a knife in his shoulder for his worries.

Aiden was already moving, taking advantage of the distraction. He swept the first man’s feet out from under him with a vicious kick, stepped past the second man’s forward stab to knock him down with a well placed blow to the jaw. A third man got a Spartan kick to the chest that sent him tumbling along the grass.

As the third man went tumbling, the man who had the spear crumpled to the ground. Two men were writhing on the ground, throwing knives embedded in painful but not vital parts of them.

Aiden drew his sword on the remaining two.

“We have the advantage!” Taliner declared. “We had the upper hand and spared you.”

“Despite you threatening our lives for no reason,” Otid growled.

“Stand down,” Taliner told him. “We’re not drawing blood. Not today.”

Otid looked like he was ready to disagree with that. The others kept their eyes ready, angry yet skittish, attention glancing between him and Aiden.

“Don’t do it,” Taliner warned. “I don’t want anyone to die here.”

One of them looked down at the corpse at their feet.

“That wasn’t us,” Taliner insisted.

The others were getting up now, even if a little groggy. Personally, Aiden hadn’t expected Taliner to be the one to keep them from killing.

But this was unnecessary stalling. Her hesitation would buy the others the time to regroup and come at them. Aiden wasn’t in support of that, so he made a move.

He stepped forward casually. Everyone watched him carefully until he stood over the man that had once held the spear.

On the ground, the man was out cold. Only his rising and falling chest was a sign of the breath of life still in him.

Aiden cocked a brow at Otid. “How hard did you hit him?”

A blade flew from Taliner's hand in Aiden's periphery and was followed by a grunt of pain as Otid grumbled out an answer. “Not hard enough.”

“Fair enough.” Aiden shrugged, returning his attention to the men around, still struggling on the ground or standing menacingly. Then he placed the point of his sword to the neck of the man who’d held the spear. “Now here’s what’s going to happen.”

He activated a skill.

[You have used skill Detect]

The men bristled only very slightly. Unlike monsters, humans knew when you used [Detect] on them. It was a terrible feeling of attempted intimidation. Like someone placing a hand on your shoulder, looking into your eyes, and challenging you.

For some, it made them cower, others only ended up being annoyed. There were some that described it as just having the weird feeling of a thousand eyes on you. Those with significantly higher levels and high [Resilience] were often immune to most of it. The magic of the system on Nastild wasn’t entirely clear and cut. It was a part of the world’s nature, ingrained into every facet of its being. Variables, often times annoying, existed.

Aiden’s hold on his sword relaxed with the information he got from the skill. He turned his head and looked at the man rested against the tree. He looked like he’d broken something.

Finally, his eyes rested on the man on the ground and he shook his head in disappointment.

“Really?" he said in disappointment. "Level 26? That's the highest?”

Otid and Taliner shot him a look as if he’d just broken some common law. Which, if he was being honest, he had. Checking another person’s level or personal information without permission was one of the rudest things you could do on Nastild.

In my defense, they just tried to kill us.

He ignored the looks and returned his attention to the men around him. “I don’t need to explain, so I’ll make it short. First and most important is this; the next person that tries to attack us will be responsible for my blade going into your friend’s neck.”

Taliner made a surprised sound. It wasn’t really a gasp, but it was something.

“Second,” he continued. “You might want to claim rights under the laws of the adventurers but you are not, so please don’t attempt it. You are poachers of exotic creatures—at least exotic to the clients you sell to—so I will not be paying attention to whatever excuses you make about the plaques in your possession.”

Someone inched closer at those words and the tip of Aiden’s sword drew blood from the neck of the unconscious man. It was nothing more than a prick, but it sent the message he wanted it to send. The man that had moved froze in his steps, anger clouding his eyes but worry showed in how stiff he had become.

“Lord Lacheart,” Otid said with a slightly shaking voice.

Their assailants grew tenser than they already were at the sound of the title. They would not know what noble house carried the name of Lacheart because there was none, but they would understand ‘Lord’ perfectly well.

“I think they get the message,” Taliner said, worried.

They did not. Not yet.

Aiden had been a poacher once, and he knew the laws that governed poaching. You did not smuggle creatures that went through innocent civilians like hot knives through butter and expect to see the light of day after you’ve been captured.

Until death was a very present possibility, they would always consider killing at any cost. Why? Because they didn’t want to go to prison forever. And killing a fellow human gave a very significant boost to a person’s level. Even a weaker opponent—not too far from your level—could grant you an extra level. So killing the enemy in front of you to survive was always an acceptable option to a poacher. It was always better than going to prison.

“You can’t take us all,” one of them snarled. He had a throwing knife still embedded in his thigh.

Aiden sighed, putting on the full bravado of a bounty hunter. “You’re weak. Trust me, most of you will be dead before you land a strong enough blow. And the strongest of you is unconscious. I’ll just kill him and move through the rest of you.”

“He’s bluffing!” someone else hissed. “He doesn’t have the balls. It doesn't matter your rank, killing the defenseless is a crime punishable by death in Bandiv.”

That told Aiden that not all of them were native. In fact, there was a chance that none of them were. Regardless, he pushed his sword slightly deeper. It was enough to draw more blood but not become something fatal.

“Woah! Woah! Woah!” Taliner’s hands shot out in a placating motion. “We definitely all want to leave with our lives intact.” She looked from Aiden to the man that had tried to call his bluff. “Right?”

The man nodded slowly, still looking angry. Aiden wasn’t sure if Taliner was saving the poachers’ lives or hers and Otid's.

Taliner nodded. “Good. Then if we let you guys leave, you promise not to come back?”

The man’s eyes darted between the man at Aiden’s mercy and the corpse. His frown deepened, eyes narrowed on Aiden.

“We didn’t kill your friend,” Otid insisted. “We found him this way.”

Aiden didn’t like the idea of letting them go. Only fools let enemies with the very real intentions of killing them go. The others might’ve been capable of simply turning tails and running, but not the one staring daggers at him.

You always tied up loose ends. This wasn’t some morally right super hero movie. He wasn’t superman.

“And our friend?” the angry man asked.

Taliner looked down at Aiden’s sword, then back at Aiden. She was asking for permission. With a frown, Aiden took his blade away from the man’s neck.

“You can—” Taliner’s words died in her mouth when Aiden placed the point of the sword back. “Lord Lacheart?”

Her address of him using his title didn’t come out as naturally, not as Otid’s had.

“They can have him,” he said. “But I have a question.”

The man snarled, showing teeth. Two of them were filed, canines sharpened into small fangs. “Ask.”

“What were you hunting?”

The man pressed his lips into a thin line and broke eye contact.

So they’re not exploring, they’ve been commissioned.

But what kind of monster lurked in this part of the forest for some rich man to commission. It could easily be a noble or not. Nobles weren’t the only ones with the money and the liking for exotic monsters that could kill in one strike.

“My partner over here is a good person.” Aiden moved the tip of his sword to his victim’s stomach. “I am not. You’re doing something bad, something deadly. And in the territory of king Brandis. That is something I cannot let slide.”

Look at you, sounding like a loyal subject.

“It’s nothing deadly,” someone said from the corner.

Everyone was on their feet now, everyone that wasn’t knocked out, that is. Those that had tasted the steel of Taliner’s throwing knives had since removed them and discarded them to the grass.

If a fight broke out now, it would be bad for Taliner and Otid. Aiden didn’t doubt his ability to survive in this current situation. In fact, he would likely excel, seeing as some of them were already wounded.

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The level boost wouldn't be bad.

The thought crossed his mind only momentarily. He was good at fighting people, trained to be for that matter. But he wasn't a fan of killing those that he didn't have to kill. It always left him feeling... bad wasn't the word, maybe uncomfortable would suffice.

“You are poachers,” Aiden told the man easily, repeating what they already knew he was aware of. “Everything you have your hand in is deadly. Dangerous. And most often stupid.”

Aiden had clipped the words in mild annoyance and the boy had flinched away. And he was indeed a boy. Now that Aiden thought about it, while the others looked to be in their mid twenties to late twenties, he was barely twenty.

“What are you hunting?” Aiden repeated. “What are you trying to steal?”

“Not stealing,” the angry man snapped, unable to hold his tongue. “Repossessing.”

Repossessing only meant one of two things to a poacher. They’d either lost something in transit or they were stealing back a monster from a client for one poacher-justified reason or the other. Although there were some stupid poachers who sold you a monster just to come through the back and steal it from you. They were called stupid for a reason. If a person had enough money to pay for and care for such monsters, it was very likely that they had enough money to pay people to hunt you down.

“I don’t care about what noble owes you what?” Aiden's words were curt and annoyed, and he kicked the corpse lightly. “I care about what the monster is.”

With how messed up the corpse was, there was always the possibility that it actually belonged to some stray elite of the kingdom of Mba-chukwu and they weren’t actually dealing with a Dahnal.

Aiden almost laughed at the thought. Mba-chukwu was currently under who’s leadership? He turned thoughtful. In the eleven years of his stay on Nastild they had swapped two leaders before finally being annihilated by the combined might of Nel Quan and an insignificant kingdom name Telahi.

The answer came to Aiden. Onyedi Mbaku.

This time Aiden did laugh. Onyedi ruled with an iron fist. There was very little chance that the corpse would turn out to be a stray if it was from his kingdom.

He looked around just in case someone was pulling up on them with [Stealth] once more. Nobody was.

“You’re wasting my time,” he told them. “I don’t need some unnecessary details. Just the name of the beast, and you can be on your way with your friend. Back to whoever’s leading this bunch.”

“It’s a Fharanal,” the youngest blurted out.

“You fool!” the angry one hissed at him. “You just served us up to a noble.” His fists tightened, his handclaws gleamed under the rays of sunlight, ready and menacing. “Now we can’t let them live.”

“He promised to let us go if we told him,” the boy said. “And the thing’s dangerous. If we don’t catch it on time, a lot of people could die.”

He’s definitely new to this, Aiden thought. But he was right. The Fharanal was a greater monster than the Dahnal. They were native to the hot deserts of Naralagua, home to a few nomadic tribes.

The creature was a greater threat because they didn’t just kill the same way the Dahnal killed, they planted their eggs inside their dead victims as well. They were rarer than the Dhanal even though they were something of their female counterparts, and their eggs hatched to become Dahnals in any conditions and Fharanals in rare perfect conditions. In a sense, they were an endangered species, a true prize to possess.

That’s why the bodies were hidden among the trees. To buy the eggs time to hatch.

“We need to get the bodies down,” Aiden said to Otid suddenly. “All of them.” He turned to the poachers. “How long have your friends been missing? How long have you been looking for the Fharanal?”

“Three days,” the angry man bit out the words.

Fharanal eggs take a week or more to hatch. We still have time. The problem is the Fharanal.

Aiden wasn’t strong enough to fight a Fharanal. At least he didn't think he was.

“You guys weren’t reclaiming it from some rich fool, were you?” he said. To his side Otid was aiming with the spear. He doubted the man would find success as he had with the sword. “You were smuggling it through Naranoff’s territory.”

The boy nodded.

A loud thud erupted beside them. Aiden didn’t have to look to know that it was one of the bodies hanging in the trees. Otid grinned to himself, reveling in his victory over the trees.

“One more,” Otid muttered to himself.

All the tension in the space was currently focused on Aiden. So much so that it seemed like Otid couldn’t feel it anymore.

“Why are we bringing the bodies down?” Taliner asked.

“Because Fharanals are dangerous creatures, and they lay their eggs inside the bodies of their dead victims.”

Taliner looked down at the corpse that had just fallen from the tree. “All their dead victims?”

Aiden nodded, taking his sword away from the man at his feet. There was no further need for a hostage. “Their stinger serves to inject their venom into their victims and their venom also carries their eggs. If their eggs hatch, this whole place is in trouble.”

Otid paused. He had a spear in hand, aimed upwards. He looked back at them. “Shouldn’t we be more focused on the town. If that thing gets into town there could be problems.”

“We should focus on the corpses,” Aiden said. Fharanals didn’t like people, so they stayed in deserts and, at times like this, it would most likely be making a nest in the forest somewhere.

Otid’s brows furrowed. “You sure?”

“Yea.” Aiden moved to sheathe his sword out of habit and stopped himself. “Let’s get all the corpses.” He turned to the only boy in the group. “How many of your men are missing?”

“Shut up, Fjord!” the angry man hissed.

Aiden sighed, tired of having to listen to the angry man. “You know what?” He turned to the boy, Fjord. “For the duration of my time with you guys, I will speak only to you. I don’t care about the rest of you. Got it?”

Taliner gave him a look. It said he was being unnecessarily harsh. The look told him that Taliner wasn’t very versed in the underworld of Nastild. The underworld was established with power, and it was power not held with civility. You held it proudly and you held it cruelly.

“This one has survived for now,” he continued then pointed the sword at the angry man. “But it doesn’t mean that…” He paused and a body hit the ground with a thud, then he continued. “It doesn’t mean that you have to.”

The man kept his words but his anger did not change.

He’s going to be a problem, Aiden noted. Reasonably, it would be best to be rid of him to prevent further problems. The last thing he needed was to be stabbed in the back while looking for all the corpses, that was if he was even going to go looking for the corpses.

Now that he thought about it, the Naranoff territory had never had a case of some exotic beast stabbing its way through town in his past life. Aiden wondered how this problem had been resolved in his past life. They probably caught the thing before it became an issue.

“They’re all the same,” Otid said, looking down at the latest corpse. It had a massive stab wound in its gut and he was poking its metallic vertebrae with the point of the spear.

“Whatever this thing is,” Taliner said, “we can’t let its eggs hatch or let it get into town.”

Aiden agreed, but they also couldn’t fight it. With what they currently had, they were lacking the man power necessary. Should we still take it?

There would be a lot of casualties. His attention moved to the poachers. They could play the role of canon fodder.

He shook his head. You are not in the Order. You don’t sacrifice lives you don’t have to when there are alternatives--when you can simply retreat.

“Says the guy that was about to kill a hostage,” he muttered to himself under his breath.

“What was that?” Fjord asked timidly.

Aiden shook his head. “Nothing, kid.”

Fjord’s expression took on one of confusion. It was probably very confusing to have someone that looked probably only a year older than you call you ‘kid.’

“What do we do with the bodies?” Otid asked.

Aiden didn’t have to think about the answer. “Burn them.”

Otid paused before responding. “Oh.”

…

It turned out that Aiden was right. The nine men that had tried to ambush them had not been the only ones in the forest. They had a master that the angry man, Bora, claimed was up to level fifty.

Aiden didn’t doubt it. But chances were that the man was below fifty. Most poaching groups didn’t waste a level 50 poacher on even a level 50 monster. They preferred to send the lower levels in groups. As for the bodies, Fjord said that there were a total of eight missing members that they were looking for.

So far, they’d found two more.

Before leaving, he’d split the poachers, taking three of the nine with them. Fjord, Bora, and Maxi, a skinny man who looked like he didn’t have any food. Ever. The others, they’d instructed to head in another direction in search of the creature to cover more grounds, though he doubted they would.

As for their classes, while Aiden’s [Detect] was strong enough to get him the levels of human opponents, it was still a good way away from getting him their class.

So he didn’t ask and they didn’t tell. It was not necessary.

They walked through the forest, eyes constantly paying attention to the trees and the leaves and everything that moved. They had been attacked by another group of mantises earlier, seven in total, and had survived in wiping them out. One of the poachers, however, Maxi, had not made it. He'd died as he'd probably lived, looking malnourished.

Taliner led the group as they walked now, standing at the front. Otid walked in the middle with Bora grumbling his annoyance every now and again, while Aiden took the rear with Fjord.

From what he'd learnt of the boy, he was almost nineteen and had gotten his class a few months ago. He was unsurprisingly new to the poaching industry, barely three months into it. He’d run from his village with delusions of grandeur, plans of being one of the greatest mercenaries known.

Life hadn’t been so fair to him, though. Luckily, he’d run into a group of poachers who had been happy to take him under their wings. He’d been running with them ever since.

“And you’re sure you’re okay with this?” Aiden asked him.

Fjord kept his eyes on the road and shrugged. “It works for me.”

“So it’s poacher or mercenary.” Aiden was sure that he was missing something. “Why not adventurer or something else? You could be a soldier.”

Fjord shook his head.

“It doesn’t have to be a combat position, though,” Aiden said. “Domestic positions are also achieving. Worthy.”

“Satisfactory,” Fjord said in a low, underwhelming voice.

Aiden didn’t like satisfactory either. He’d liked it before Nastild, but he couldn’t imagine himself doing satisfactory now. “What’s wrong with satisfactory?”

“I don’t want satisfactory.” Fjord frowned. “All my life I’ve wanted fame and glory. To be somebody.”

Doesn’t every kid?

Even on earth children were not inspired by the accountants in the movies or the mayors of the towns. What moved them were the super heroes giving the bad guys a beat down. The wrestlers getting up covered in sweat—sometimes blood—when the referee hit that three count. The Seals. The Marines. The victory at the end of all the violence and blood.

Nobody wanted satisfactory.

Even Aiden, despite the quiet and satisfactory life he had wanted, had been inspired by wrestlers. There was always that thrill at the victory. He cared nothing for the three count victory. No, he liked to watch a man submit, tap out under the strength of a submission lock.

“I want to ask your class,” Aiden said to Fjord after a moment's thought. “Will you be willing to tell me?”

Fjord gave him a surprised look.

Taliner led them around a massive tree, picking out a mark on the tree. It belonged to a mantis not a Fharanal. It wasn’t surprising since Aiden doubted she would know what to look for when tracking one.

So he left the tracking to Bora and himself. And whatever little Fjord knew enough of to help.

“I’ve met a few nobles,” Fjord said suddenly. “They’re not nice to people like me.”

“Poachers or commoners?” Aiden asked.

“Both. But mainly poachers.”

Aiden shrugged. “Nobody likes poachers. Nobody’s nice to them.”

“But they use our services.” Fjord frowned. “They buy from us.”

“And that is their sin. They know it as clearly as you know the sun is bright. That they love their sin does not mean they would love those who aid it. In their sin, someone has to be less than them. Those who peddle in it are the chosen victims. So no, nobody’s nice to poachers.”

“You’re nice to me,” Fjord said, voice small. He talked like he was ashamed of something. It had been that way since the beginning. “And I’m a poacher.”

Aiden had been a poacher once, but poachers were neither here nor there to him.

“I’m nice to you,” he said. “I’m nice to Fjord. Not a poacher.”

“Why?”

Taliner raised a hand, and everyone came to a stop. She bent to the ground and moved her hand about. Aiden doubted it was a skill. He doubted she or Otid had a scouting skill.

“I’m more interested in why you say I’m nice to you,” Aiden said, voice almost too low to even be called a whisper. “All I’ve done is make you speak instead of Bora.”

“You also asked if I was willing to share my class,” Fjord pointed out in a whisper. “You’re strong enough to simply ask for it. I won’t hesitate to tell you.”

That much was true. Power worked that way among criminals.

“I’ve met nobles not old enough to have levels who have looked down on poachers.” Fjord shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal. “In this line of work, you learn a few things.”

The boy still hadn’t told Aiden his class, though.

“How about this?” Aiden asked when Taliner gave them the signal that things were clear. “How about you tell me if it’s a combat class or not?”

Fjord’s face became thoughtful. “It isn’t, but I think it can be,” he said in the end.

That wasn’t very much to go on.

Why are you even asking? Aiden asked himself. Why do you care?

It wasn’t as if the boy reminded him of himself when he’d been younger or anything. And it wasn’t like he’d been the underdog when he’d become a poacher. He’d led a team during his own time. At some point he’d even had his own crew, each member hand picked by him.

So why the questions? Small talk? Humanity?

Aiden didn’t have the answer. So he opted for silence to himself.

“I see,” he said, and that was where he let the argument die.

The walk continued in relative silence. Aiden kept his eyes on Bora, having kept him in front of him so that he could keep an eye on the man. He could’ve sent him with the second group but Bora was clearly the kind of man to go for petty vengeance no matter the cost to himself or those around him.

Aiden needed such a person within his reach until he couldn’t keep them within his reach. As for their new quarry, he was not in support of fighting it if they did run into it. Instead, his plan was to find a way to report it to the Naranoffs so that it could be taken care of.

Unless the poachers actually had someone with a high combat level waiting somewhere, there was no way they could get the creature out in record time and be on their way.

“May I ask a question?” Fjord said as they walked.

Aiden didn’t mind. “Go for it.”

Fjord shot Baro a careful glance, made sure the man was not paying attention, then reduced his voice to a whisper. “Can you employ me?”

Aiden paused at that. “I’m confused.”

Fjord shot Baro another glance. “I really don’t like doing what I’m doing. It’s risky without the sense of achievement. It doesn’t have to be a fighting position. I can learn basic things and do them. I’m a quick study, not system level good, but good enough. I can help in the kitchen or the stables or even in a smithy.”

I thought he didn’t want a life that was just satisfactory?

“I thought you didn’t want satisfactory?” Aiden asked.

Fjord shook his head vehemently. He looked like he was going to cry. “I’ve been out here for almost a year, and I’ve got nothing to show for it but almost dying and not leveling up. I’m not risking my life, my lord, I’m wasting it. I’ll die one day with nothing to show for it.”

Aiden frowned. Everybody died one day.

But the boy was right. There was a difference between risking your life and wasting it. The former had a reasonable possibility of reward while the latter had so unreasonable low a possibility of reward that it could be categorized as none.

Sadly, Aiden had no reason to help the boy. Reality was sad, truly so.

Still… if the boy was useful, then he could find a use for him. And the boy was putting in the effort. As Aiden’s father had often said: You have no obligation to help anyone, but someone who’s tried and failed by themselves before asking for help earned the right to some level of opportunity.

So Aiden was willing to give the boy some attention.

“What’s your class?” he asked once more.

Fjord hesitated.

In front of them Taliner pulled them to a stop again with a raised fist. “I think I see something.”

Otid and Bora snuck forward. Aiden and Fjord followed, but slowly. Fjord worried his bottom lip between his teeth. He seemed unwilling to answer.

It was the issue with kindness, it gave people a choice. If Aiden had continued to wield his power cruelly, he would’ve gotten the answer to the question without a waste of time.

But Aiden wasn’t that man. He was often apathetic, but cruelty had never been one of his preference. Not when it wasn’t necessary. Not when it didn’t serve a necessary purpose.

“Fjord,” Aiden whispered. “I’m not so free that I can figure out how to help you with no information.”

“I think we’ve found it,” Taliner muttered, then pointed.

Bora and Otid were crouched beside her now, peering forward. The sun was descending, and while the forest wasn’t as bright as it had been in the afternoon, it wasn’t so dark that they couldn’t see. They still had a few hours before nightfall.

Aiden turned and met Fjord’s gaze. When he spoke again, it was in a commanding tone. “Your class, boy.”

Fjord stiffened and his response poured out from his lips. “I’m a... [Gambler], my Lord.”

Aiden paused. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. The [Gambler] class was far from just a tricky class.

In the end, his brain produced only one sound.

“Oh.”