To further amplify the effect of my unexpected appearance, I cast "Manifestation of Light," wrapping my head in a soft glow. Not a halo, of course, but it still must have looked very impressive from the outside. However, I immediately regretted this improvisation. Thanks to the narrow windows, the main hall of the old tavern was dimly lit, and the light around my head made everything else even darker, so now I could only make out the silhouettes of the people around me. But my appearance certainly made a strong impression. The packed hall, which barely contained, as far as I could tell, all the adult inhabitants of the village, froze as if in a still frame from a movie. After a brief pause, just as I was about to deliver a prepared pompous phrase, a man rose from behind the counter and said with incredible surprise:
"Raven?!"
His voice seemed familiar, and, turning off the glow around my head, I quickly blinked, adjusting to the surrounding semi-darkness, and then just as surprised, I said:
"Vidar?!"
Indeed, it was him. Yes, he was dressed differently than when we met during the first group trial, but I recognized him without a problem. And this immediately shattered all the plans I had prepared. This man, in front of my eyes, had refused to take a life rod because his choice would deprive someone else of life, demonstrating iron willpower. Not everyone would put their principles above life, and as the first group trial showed, he was exactly this rare type of person. So, all my assumptions that some group wanted to gain power over this village for their base desires or self-affirmation just crumbled like a house of cards. A man like Vidar would not seek power just to satisfy his ego. Of course, Ain changes people, but I don't think Vidar's character changed so radically in just under two months.
While we silently studied each other, everyone else in the hall couldn't take their eyes off me. Some were frightened, some hid behind others, as many had recognized my Wootz Sign. The baron's sheriff was the quickest to react. Adjusting his badge, he took two quick steps towards me, hand on the hilt of his sword. Like me, this stern-looking, approximately forty-year-old man was at the Wootz Step of the Spiral.
"I am Peter Brenton, sheriff of the Collonet barony and this land! Who are you, and what do you want?" he said, stopping just a meter away from me, ready to draw his sword and strike in an instant.
A new strategy of behavior, fundamentally different from the original one, came to mind. There was no time left to contemplate backup plans, so without yielding to the pressure, I illuminated my Guild Sign and spoke with gravity and confidence:
"Raven Alexandrite, Sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild. I'm investigating a rumor about a certain group of tunnellers violating the Guild's Code." The fact that this rumor existed only in my imagination and that I had concocted it, I naturally didn't clarify. "Now I see that this rumor does not concern this group of tunnellers, and I formally apologize for such an impolite intrusion."
While I was speaking, the local sheriff seemed not to hear me. All his attention was absorbed by the Guild Sign on my chest. When I finished my short speech, he looked up in utter astonishment and asked:
"Sheriff of the Book?!"
This man had clearly experienced and seen a lot in life, but, as they say, he was not prepared for an encounter like this, and now he was somewhat lost, not knowing what to do or how to behave.
"I didn't ask for this position, but I couldn't refuse it either," I replied in the calmest and most indifferent tone I could muster.
"I see..." Peter Brenton said lostly, though, by his voice, he seemed far from understanding anything at the moment.
"Do you mind if I stay and listen to those new rules you were talking about, which will now govern this settlement?" I added, more addressing the earthlings, though not looking at them. "I will also check these rules for compliance with the Guild's Code."
The fact that the Guild's Code only abstractly and vaguely considered such situations didn't bother me.
"Of course, of course!" Hearing a direct question, the sheriff perked up and, nodding, invited me to follow him.
The people in the hall obediently parted, letting us through. We reached the edge of the counter and stood there like two statues. The local sheriff apparently hadn't yet recovered from recognizing my Sign, and I simply didn't know what to say. So, when the silence stretched on, I cleared my throat and, with a wave of my hand, suggested that Vidar or someone else from the group of five earthlings speak.
Besides Vidar, who remained standing, four more earthlings were sitting behind the counter. I "remembered" two of them, but the other pair was completely unfamiliar to me, as I hadn't met them in the Last Cycle or in any of the group trials.
Regarding those I "recognized," the first was a young man named Gotlake. Of average height and build, he was memorable for his unruly hair, stiff as a brush, and his strong fingers, as if woven from ropes. My "past self" had encountered him several times in Deytran, and he seemed to have made a name for himself as a good trader. As far as I "remember," he didn't live to see the Invasion, vanishing without a trace in the Tower of Sino.
The second "acquaintance" was a girl whose name I couldn't recall, only the nickname others gave her: Edi, like the artificial intelligence in Mass Effect, or Calculator. She was so nicknamed because of her talent for mental arithmetic. She easily multiplied six-digit numbers and extracted cube roots of three-digit numbers. As far as I had heard, she died in the second month of the Invasion, staying behind with a small group to cover the evacuation of some city, whose name I didn't know, in the north of the continent. The girl was short and very slender, with a figure more reminiscent of a youth than a woman. If I'm not mistaken, she was from Shanghai.
I couldn't say much about their characters, as I had never spoken with them at length, just a few phrases here and there, nothing more.
The other two – a stocky man with dark hair tied in a long ponytail and a Scandinavian-type girl with bright blue eyes and a short haircut – I was seeing for the first time. That they were not locals but earthlings was clear at first glance. The stocky man had a light scarf tied around his neck with a scout's knot, not used in Ain, and the girl wore a handmade bracelet on her wrist, its central element being a peace sign, the kind hippies used to adorn themselves with.
Catching Vidar's gaze, I spread my arms and nodded, suggesting him to speak. The young man briskly nodded in response, leaned on the counter with his arms, and turned his gaze to the crowd of people packed in the hall like sardines in a can. Clearing his throat, he attracted attention and said:
"You have heard the decree read by the respected Sheriff Brenton from Baron Collonet stating that I have been appointed as the new reeve of your village for a year." Straightening up to his considerable height, the young man pointed his thumb at his chest. "I am Vidar Xiphos, a Steel-ranked tunneller. And this is my team." He gestured towards the other four earthlings sitting behind the counter. "I want to reassure everyone right away that there will be no new taxes or mandatory labor beyond what is stipulated in your residency contract on this land." These words elicited a noticeably relieved murmur among the gathered peasants. "But!" Raising his hand up, Vidar sharply slammed it down on the counter, causing many to flinch at the loud noise. "The time you are obliged to work for the benefit of the barony, we will demand in full. And forget about dodging mandatory work as was possible with the former reeve. Giving the reeve a chicken to free yourself from work for a week, that's over now." Taking a brief pause, Vidar surveyed the people in the hall with a stern gaze, but no one dared to object, especially under the watchful eye of the local sheriff. "However, I am a fair man and will pay a bonus for good work. Additional money will also be paid to those who wish to work for me beyond the mandatory requirements."
"And how much will you pay?" As soon as the topic turned to money, some of the shock wore off the peasants, and a question came from the hall.
"Five copper coins per hour for good work." Vidar seemed to anticipate this question and answered promptly. "But I will be strict in my inspection."
By the standards of Pentapolis and even the more affluent settlements of the Rur region, this wasn't a lot of money. But from what I saw as I walked through the village, such earnings would be far from insignificant for many peasants.
"Where will you be staying?" asked a young girl with a widow's ribbon draped over her right shoulder, her interest in Vidar seemingly more than casual.
"For now, here, at the inn," Vidar replied, completely missing the hint.
Turning to the owner of the establishment, who clearly was displeased by this news, he added:
"We'll pay for our stay," which immediately brought a smile to the innkeeper's face. Then he continued, "And we'll see about the future." With another loud slap of his open hand on the counter, he said, "Well, you've heard the baron's decree, Sheriff Brenton has read it to you. You've seen me. The main thing is you've heard me. We're ending this general gathering now. Tomorrow, an hour after dawn, I expect five representatives that you choose, and I'll discuss all the details with them." Someone in the hall raised a hand, but Vidar interrupted him. "Ask all your questions through those people you choose. For now, this gathering is over."
Despite his words and his rather stern demeanor, the peasants didn't budge but began to glance and whisper among themselves. This show of defiance and disrespect to the baron-appointed reeve clearly displeased the local sheriff. His eyes narrowed like arrow slits, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, and stepping forward, he bellowed:
"What are you, deaf? It was said, disperse! All questions tomorrow! Or do I need to whip someone to get the message across?!"
This sharp shout had the effect of a grenade thrown into a pond. The peasants first froze, then rushed en masse to the exit, elbowing each other out of the way. When the last peasant practically crawled out the door, the sheriff turned to the counter and, spreading his arms, said:
"Rabble... They only understand shouts and a stick. Master Vidar, be firmer with them, or they'll walk all over you."
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
It seemed to me that these words didn't sit well with the earthling, but before he could say anything, Gotlake stood up and, nudging Vidar aside with his shoulder, bowed shortly to the sheriff:
"Thank you for the lesson. And I agree that the reeve needs a firm hand."
Hearing this, the sheriff straightened up and nodded approvingly. Next, the lawkeeper turned towards me as though he had a question but abruptly appeared to think better of it, and, fiddling with his outfit, he swiftly started talking:
"I've read the baron's decree. I've gathered the people and conveyed the essence of the decree to them. You," he nodded at Vidar, "I've entered into the stewardship scroll. Please understand, sunset is near, and I still need to be at the castle today. So, I'll leave you with my best wishes. I'll visit you again in a week. And if something goes wrong, or if the peasants start causing trouble and whips don't help, then call for me."
When he mentioned whips, I noticed a displeased shadow pass over the faces of Vidar and Edi. Apparently sensing the same, Gotlake quietly nudged Vidar's leg to prevent him from reacting, then the commerce-savvy earthling gave a formal but clear and respectful bow and said:
"Esteemed sheriff, we understand and will definitely inform you if necessary. We will also be happy to see you not only in a week but on any other day."
Constantly glancing at me, Peter Brenton listened, exchanged bows, and after saying goodbye to everyone, crossed the empty hall of the inn sideways, as if afraid of being struck from behind, and went out onto the street. I felt that he was very uncomfortable in my presence. Or, more precisely, in the presence of the Sheriff of the Book. As if he was constantly weighing how I would react to each of his words. Formally, we were equal in status, but the fact that I was appointed by a divine artifact, not a council or a lord, made a difference. Brenton probably felt uncomfortable thinking that I could contradict him. It could cast doubt on everything he does, as from the locals' perspective, I was chosen by a god for this position! Consequently, for many, my word, despite the formal equality of status with the local sheriff, would carry more weight. Any disagreement with me could severely damage his authority, and perhaps even his self-esteem. To avoid such a hypothetical scenario, he likely left the hall so quickly. A smart and cautious man, who intuitively sensed my irritation at his suggestion to use whips and his general preference for harsh measures to maintain order. Of course, I wouldn't have lectured him, but he didn't know that, so he left as quickly as possible, having formally completed his duties and said his quick goodbyes. Or maybe all these thoughts are just a figment of my imagination, and he really was in a hurry to the castle or somewhere else, perhaps to a young wife, if he has one, of course.
After waiting for the door to close behind the sheriff, Gotlake turned to the innkeeper standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen and snapped his fingers to catch his attention:
"Garçon, bring out that lamb which, as I sense," the young man demonstratively sniffed the air, "has long been ready. And also, bring that barrel I left there."
Having said that, he moved out from behind the counter and, with gestures asking for assistance, moved the largest table to the center of the room, after which we all settled around. This was done in complete silence, as Gotlake had gestured for silence, probably not wanting any locals, particularly the innkeeper, to overhear our conversation. In no time, a huge dish with charcoal-grilled lamb and stewed cabbage was brought to us, along with a small, about seven-liter, wooden barrel. After another trip to the kitchen, the innkeeper brought wooden plates and placed six roughly made ceramic beer mugs on the table. Then, the middle-aged man with small, constantly darting bead-like eyes stood obsequiously by the table.
"Dear host," I addressed him, "you've set the table, right? Now, do us a favor and take a walk."
The innkeeper stared at me bewilderedly, but after I unmistakably gestured towards the door, he looked around and then, bowing, shuffled towards the exit.
"Hey," I called out to him. "What's your name?"
"Borchuk, master," the innkeeper replied, halting halfway to the door.
"Do you know why I asked your name?"
"No," he replied quietly, swallowing hard.
"So I know what name to write on the tombstone if I catch your curious ears eavesdropping on us!"
The innkeeper's eyes darted even faster, and he turned pale, then nodded like a bobblehead and stammered:
"But I… I'd never…"
"Go on, off you go," I urged him with a hand gesture. "If we need you, we'll call."
As the innkeeper scurried out the door like a frightened rabbit, I turned to the earthlings:
"You've heard my name, but just in case, I'll repeat it. Raven. For the locals, Raven Alexandrite or Raven from Seattle. I'm already acquainted with Vidar."
"Hjerta Christ," the Scandinavian-looking girl introduced herself first, and the name seemed familiar to me. Definitely a pseudonym chosen for Ain, but I couldn't recall whom she named herself after.
"Gotlake Lucky," nodded the one I remembered from the Past Cycle.
Introducing himself, he uncorked the small barrel and began pouring young red wine into mugs.
"Wong Kan," said the stocky man curtly, not taking his curious yet cautious eyes off me.
"And this is Edi!" Before the Chinese girl could open her mouth, Gotlake spoke for her, his face breaking into a sly smile.
"Catherine," she jerked her shoulder, then sighed as if resigning herself, and looking down, added, "but I'm often called Edi, after a character from some game I never even played, so I've come to accept it."
"But you really are like Edi! That name suits you way better than Catherine! After all, Catherine isn't your real name either," Lucky laughed, finishing pouring the wine, handing out the mugs, and raising his own for a toast: "To new acquaintances!"
After gulping down half his mug, he wiped his lips with his sleeve and, jokingly bowing to me, said:
"And thank you for not letting this stubborn blockhead perish," nodding towards Vidar.
"What?" Wong Kan didn't understand.
"Haven't you realized yet?" Gotlake smirked, turning to the stocky guy, "This is Raven, the very one who gave a life rod to our leader in the first group trial. If not for him, our stubborn commander would never have passed it, given his principles!"
"Really?" Wong looked at me in surprise.
"That's right," Vidar sighed heavily, apparently not too fond of recalling that incident. "Raven and I really met during the first group trial."
"So, this means..." Hjerta slowly sipped her wine, "that this Lan Lin, who refused to take a rod and even gave hers to someone else, isn't just a figment of Vidar's imagination? There really are such fools?"
"There are."
"Pity she gave her rod away and died, as Vidar told us," Edi chuckled, "I'd like to talk to her and find out what goes on in such people's heads."
"Maybe you'll meet her yet," I smiled, "then you can ask her."
"How would they meet?" Vidar wondered, "I saw her giving her rod to that guy begging for his life, thinking you didn't see."
"She did," I nodded, "but while she was busy with that, I slipped mine into her bag, then took the rod from that guy for myself. By the way, that lad was hiding lies behind his tears. He secretly stole a rod himself but then lost it, hence his tantrum."
"So, she survived?!" Vidar's eyes grew as big as the plates on the table.
"Yes, we crossed paths in the second group trial, which she also passed," I continued, enjoying the surprise on Vidar's face. "But what happened to her afterward, I don't know. I haven't met her in Ain yet, but I hope she's alive. She seemed talented, so if she managed to tone down her nature, she could have handled everything that came our way."
"There, see!" Gotlake triumphantly raised his mug, staring at Wong, "I told you our commander simply can't lie."
"Lie or not," the stocky guy looked away, "but everyone likes to exaggerate and embellish their stories."
Vidar watched their argument as if they were talking about someone else, not him.
Sipping the wine, which I found excessively sour - I'm not a fan of young wines, preferring semi-sweet ones - I decided to change the subject:
"You guys did well. Few of ours have managed to avoid losses in their teams until now."
"We didn't manage either," shrugged Lucky. "From the first day in Ain, only the commander and Edi were together. I joined them third, and then Wong and Hjerta came along."
"Oh, I see." That was all I could say.
"In my original team, there were only obnoxious jerks," the girl shrugged, "so when I met you, I was glad to send them packing."
"I was drawn to the commander's straightforwardness," Wong said, crossing his arms. "In my start-up team, everyone thought they were the smartest and were just looking for ways to get more than the others."
"You fell for Edi, that's why you stuck with us, not because of the commander's straightforwardness!" Gotlake laughed slyly, and the mentioned girl blushed slightly.
"No comment," Wong sharply responded to these words.
Noticing how he looked at the Chinese girl, I understood that Lucky was probably right. Sensing some awkwardness at the table, Edi got up from her chair and said:
"I saw a nice piece of smoked fish under the counter. I'll go slice it," she finished her sentence near the counter.
"So, you all came together from different starting groups," I clarified, "that's even more surprising."
"Our group was thrown far south from here," Vidar shrugged. "Nearby was an Ishid monastery. The monks took in our group without any questions, offering to host us as long as we wanted in exchange for some help with their chores. Three of our group didn't want to stay put, but I decided to stay, and... Edi did, too."
"And it was a good decision," Edi added from behind the counter. "The monks willingly answered our naive questions about the world of Ain and taught us a lot, as well as helped establish connections with local tunnellers and taught us many basic skills and some spells."
"Edi won them over when she immediately figured out some complex ritual the monastery's abbot had been struggling with for months," Vidar chuckled softly. "She also helped other monks with their calculations. So, when we decided to move on after two weeks, they tried hard to convince her to stay, even offering to send her to study in Pentapolis so she could dedicate herself to the god of rituals."
"It was a tempting offer, by the way," Edi's voice carried a hint of longing. "If it weren't for those creatures that brought us here and their tasks, I probably would have accepted."
"Many of ours call these creatures questers, from the gaming concept of 'quest'," I couldn't help adding.
"It fits," Lucky snorted, "though it sounds too neutral for my taste. I prefer to call them what they are – powerful jerks!"
Just a short while ago, I would have agreed with him, but now I wasn't so sure about such a simplified interpretation. Of course, I didn't voice my doubt aloud, preferring to remain silent and simply nod in agreement.
"As I said earlier," Wong spoke up, "I joined the group because I liked the commander's philosophy."
"Philosophy?" I asked, turning fully towards Vidar.
"What philosophy," Vidar tried to dismiss it, but realizing that such a simple phrase wouldn't suffice to convince me, he continued. "It's actually quite simple and hardly counts as philosophy. When I passed the first group trial, thanks to you, I felt I owed a life debt. So, I decided to 'repay' this debt by helping others wherever possible."
"And how is this help manifested?" I inquired.
"In everything," Vidar shrugged, "I just decided to help anyone fate brings my way. Edi adjusted this decision by adding one condition before agreeing to join me."
"We help, but only if it doesn't harm us," the girl said when I looked at her.
"Altruism with a healthy dose of egoism," Lucky laughed, "I actually liked that approach."
Just as I was about to ask more probing questions, a quiet yet insistent tinkling of bells echoed in my head. The "Clasp of Pure Mind" had been activated! Quickly scanning the faces around the table, I realized none of them were responsible. That left only one option, and turning sharply, I threw my empty mug towards Edi, who had finished slicing the smoked fish and was now watching me intently. My throw was gentle, so she easily caught the mug, and at that moment, the tinkling of the bells ceased.
"Don't even think about it," I warned angrily, standing up from my chair and placing my hand on the shaft of my spear.
"Tatiana, I asked you!" Vidar immediately jumped up and waved his hands, turning to me. "She didn't mean any harm!"
"There's no simpler way to make an enemy out of someone than to try to get into their head without their permission," I said, not moving my hand from the spear.
"I wasn't trying to get into your head," Edi said, looking embarrassed and pretending to scrutinize my mug. "I simply can't do that. I only wanted to read your emotions and mood, nothing more."
"I asked you..." Vidar whispered very quietly.
"You asked!" the girl nodded sharply, "but this is a special case. This Raven came out of nowhere - we know nothing about him. And besides, he's Wootz," she pointed her mug at me. "Notice, not just Wootz, but a lone Wootz! We, as a cohesive group, reached Steel, and in all this time, we haven't met a single earthling who outpaced us in leveling. And here's a loner at Wootz." Her gaze bore into my forehead. "Incredible rate of growth! And what's the fastest way to level up? Silence? Then I'll answer for all of you... By killing people!"