...

Puppies, youth, adults, and the old sat on fallen-over trees, rocks, and additional otherwise impropriated seating possibilities. They had the time of their lives, enjoying their newly acquired life, laughing and talking loudly around bonfires, eating a meal, and considering their joy, which seemed to have the taste of Knight's Game, a mystical chocolate described in a fairy tale, made for divine beings' most loyal servants.

'How poetic.'

For others, it was a place of their end—blood and devastation—a gruesome sight, indeed. It showed the deaths of those who were just at the wrong time at the wrong place and the beginning of those who were now occupying this area.

It was captivating, almost beautiful. The bodies were barely buried, and the blood was still seen, with all this happiness spitting at the souls of the fallen—a contrast too poetic to ignore.

'Such a fascinating sight.'

Narsiz, wearing a hooded cloak and a cliché wolf mask, was walking through the west side of the newly occupied land by those he still called refugees. But if they could hold this land, it would seem derogative to call them like that—even the young boy, while thinking of himself as better, knew of others' pride.

'What a difference—' He looked around, seeing the bustle and hustle of all kinds of beings, now suddenly becoming healthier by the second, overflowing with energy, '—too sad many needed to die for this sight.'

While the young man enjoyed it, there was also something in the back of his mind—guilt, an emotion he had never felt once when killing others by himself, but this was different.

They killed around three to four hundred soldiers while taking around double the number of prisoners. It was bizarre, as all those became not people but numbers, miniature figurines, and representations out of wood on maps, only to be defeated.

'I understand now what he meant.'

Alexander once told him that he was ready to swim through a river of blood, hunted down by souls, dragging him down into eternal doom—a powerful picture at the time, obviously perceived as exaggerated back then, but not now.

Every death was now dragging him down, but to create a better world, one his brother envisioned and he adored—it was a necessity, one which would make those vengeful souls hunt him for all eternity—a punishment he accepted, too.

'His plan is a little weird, though.'

In a letter exchange, Alexander forced him to let them stay first, wanting to do something with them, as he changed the plan slightly. Narsiz was curious if it would work, but it would become a grand experiment if it did.

"Narsiz, can you take off the damn mask?!"

His thoughts stopped when he heard his fiancé nagging, immediately turning to her, who had just a cloak thrown over her shoulders. However, he immediately shushed her, not wanting to stand out.

"We are here in secret, did you forget?!"

Sarah came from the other side, not wearing a cloak but donning her full plate armor with fist shields and a giant thorned shield on the back.

"Yeah, secret—" She nodded toward some mix of djinn and scavenger, who immediately bowed down while slowly walking past them, "—nobody would ever guess who we are—" She said sarcastically.

Only now did Narsiz notice something, which Linuel reinforced even more, "There are not many beast-kin who have dealings with them and a wolf-kin with his tail waddling joyfully around—" Narsiz quickly held his tail still, blushing, "—is quite obvious. They all know who you are."

'Hm, they are all bowing down—' He tried to think if this was a coincidence with the bowing person, which he said as such, "—this happened once, don't know about it, though."

Like clockwork, his [Luck] seemingly fell to zero. Some more puppies walked past them, looking at them with amazement in their eyes and bowing down to show their respect.

Narsiz looked at his sister and fiancé, his expression deadpanned, "It could be their culture; you never know."

Both rolled their eyes, but before they could say anything, someone with the same mindset pushed between them, holding her cloak and hood so that nobody could see her face, even trying to use make-up to the best of her abilities to disguise herself.

"Are you both insane?! Do you know how many wind-djinns are here?!—" She tapped her foot, sounding slightly hysterical and clearly frightened, having her voice become louder, "—you know they will eat your eyeball and your babies! BABIES!"

Helena, the fire-djinn clerk from the lower court, the copper house where Alexander practiced his noblesse oblige as judge, was also in disguise here. She was wearing an ape mask and was acting even more puppyish than him.

He looked at Linuel, "I am not acting like that, am I?"

Linuel chuckled, holding back her laughter, and Sarah sighed, not knowing what to say. However, Narsiz only adjusted his mask, thinking it was at least somewhat helpful—also, he was a stubborn bitch sometimes, not wanting to give in.

Behind them came the night-elven pair, moving through their shadows and appearing beside them, with Petra immediately answering, "Nobody cares about this stupid shit."

Before Helena could answer, Jorsh confirmed, "All of us are of mixed race. Nobody cares about this—" As she was about to say something, he repeated it, "—literally nobody, even Will, who was just kind to you for the sake of us getting along, never cared about race a little bit."

Helena stopped, letting her head hang as if misunderstood, but it was the truth in many ways. Nobody here cared about race, and after they saw the first success, many became much more honest with their allies about their opinions.

William clearly stated that he couldn't care less what happened with his ancestors and that everybody in the Camp thought, after seeing her for the first time, that she was some weird mix of a scavenger and wind-djinn because of her reddish skin.

'Interesting concept.'

For Narsiz, race was the same as for Alexander. He also knew fully well that it was most likely a canine-kin trait that he had such an acceptance of others—a trait of his blood. He was proud of how it could bring all those races together despite the extreme differences.

Behind those two lovebirds pushed a puppy through, or at least one who looked like one. Irisk was ~1.5m in height, and the spear on her back was at least 2/3 of her height, but she seemed to like it, always wearing it.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"What are we standing here around? Do you forget something or—" Her aura became serious, "—Mr. Narsiz, do I need to cut someone down? Just point toward them!"

After saving her brother and bringing him back, Irisk became incredibly loyal, especially since she was not forced to do anything she didn't want to. She could become a refugee and leave in some years as an adventurer for all he cared.

Now, though, she probably feared being thrown away and tried to show her worth, which Narsiz needed to talk her through. Instead, she should be honest.

Linuel rolled her eyes, "Can you not be like that? Even my personal guard, Honey, isn't that crazy."

From the side jumped another little fellow to the forefront, as on edge as Irisk, even with the same height, "Oh! I can, though?! Just point toward the direction!"

Honey was Linuel's personal guard, which would become Narsiz's after the wedding—a somewhat weird situation, but the small bee-kin was a fine girl, not really bad or good, something like Maurice, incredibly loyal.

"Ehm, Mr. Narsiz, do—" Trixie looked around, standing behind Sarah in fright, "—it feels weird."

"It's fine, Trixie, you do nothing but observe."

Last but not least, he brought her along with them as she needed to meet her new neighbors and learn about how they lived. She was clearly nervous, unable not to dart her eyes around, listening to weird dialects and flinching at rapid motions of joy.

'Hm, it feels lively—' A discussion started with Sarah and Linuel trying to calm down Irisk and Trixie. At the same time, Honey played around with some puppies, showing her personality, which he described as small animal energy.

Narsiz smiled at the scene and loved to join them, but something pushed him away. He found it increasingly sad that he was such an introvert with few friends, but not now—family, friends, love, and a goal—what could he wish for more?

Joining Alexander was the best choice he could've made. Looking at what they created with him being a significant part of it made him proud, and imagining the future made him almost cry, seeing how much influence one person could have.

'An ideal world—' He took a small step forward, '—a burden I love to carry.'

They stood in the middle of a former military outpost in the far west of the newly conquered territory. They were at a harbor, which they built quickly to receive resources and refugees.

'Well, I can't do everything—' He smiled slightly, '—what was it again? Emancipation? I will help, but they must develop and defend it mostly by themselves.'

As Narsiz strolled around, his entourage of all those diverse characters was behind him, still arguing about nonsensical things. However, he ignored them and enjoyed himself—observing how one small merchant ship after another docked with more of the Camp, mostly non-fighters, entering the island, breathing in the air for the first time.

"I... don't feel sick anymore..."

"Mommy, can we stay here?"

"I can't believe it... I feel my fingers again..."

Those who took their first step onto the island suddenly felt as if they could breathe after being suffocated since birth—a new beginning for them, gone the pain and suffering.

Miasma was still reaching the island but to a much lesser extent than even Wolfsteeth. As such, many taking their first step had tears in their eyes as the pain disappeared, all the voices who screamed at them went away, their mental fatigue went away, and many of them felt a sudden calm overwhelming them, with many wanting to go to sleep immediately.

"I need to thank the chief."

"What about Narsiz? Do we need to gift him something? It needs to be great!"

"I want to serve the saint!"

When Narsiz went closer, many bowed, others kneeled, but most of the time, it was praise about all of them—Aurum as the angry bird guy, Ocilia as the pissed spider girl, and so on. They saw them as saviors, emotions he couldn't describe but something that made his ego grow massively.

'I get it now, Alex.'

Something overwhelmed him. He remembered a private chat with his little brother, who warned him this would break him. It was joyful and sad simultaneously, with Alexander wanting to take all the responsibility—a sad thought that the younger brother wanted to protect the older one.

'I see—' A sudden dread overcame him, '—I may be too young for such overwhelming responsibility and naive at that.'

Narsiz imagined wailing and crying families; their puppies would never see their parents or vice versa. Narsiz felt a certain pressure in his chest, a terrible emotion that only now made him see the reality—wholly, to understand the other side.

'Responsibility, huh?'

The world greyed out and came to a standstill. Narsiz heard his system ring multiple times, and suddenly, he saw not the world he was used to but something much more gruesome—a genuine representation of his actions.

All of those people he gave a new life were lightning up in a soft green, showing something he would describe as happiness and peace. Simultaneously, they sat on corpses, formed and broken into chairs and food, boiled into a reddish soup with a horrifying representation of meat swimming inside.

As he trembled slightly, his mind screamed at him to flee. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, only to feel how something held him in place. He looked down—a corpse, a water-djinn, growling, crying, and bloodied, with their family crying in an illusion behind them.

The number increased, slowly making his mind go insane until he heard a voice, which brought him back to reality.

"How could you kill us?!"

"I have a family! They will now hunger and die!"

"I will never see my fiancé!"

Narsiz became angry, not at those hallucinations as his guilt became too much, but at himself, even listening to them—laughing at the ridiculousness of how he stupidly guilt-tripped himself.

'Haha! You are sad?!'

Memories of his kin emerged enslaved, brutalized, and killed for the stupidest reasons, while he felt bad for soldiers, who were paid to fight and die—a ridiculous thought.

'How many of ours are worth of theirs?'

They never cared about his kin, as they still bought his people, so why should he feel bad about prioritizing his? He would kill ten times as much if he could save even one more kin or one of the Camp people.

'I am still too naive.'

Narsiz was responsible for making those decisions, and he could theoretically save everyone, but was it worth losing his people? The answer was apparent as he took the next step, with all those images disappearing one by one—no.

He had no responsibility toward the enemy, who would try to kill and enslave his people immediately. There was no need for sympathy or empathy but for his own and his allies.

'I have a duty to the families of my people.'

There was no need to be merciful if they wouldn't be. How many families of those fallen Camp people would cry because he was too soft, too naive—a much worse thought, making his heart clench as he almost listened to Alexander, who was still too soft.

'It's my fault.'

Narsiz had more experience and historical knowledge. He shouldn't have listened to ethical or philosophical approaches to actual conduct—he felt pathetic.

However, as the color slowly returned and the images disappeared, his mind became clearer; he only now noticed it, as before, it was normal.

'What happened?!'

Narsiz suddenly felt Linuel touch his shoulder. He quickly turned around to her, almost pulling out a hidden dagger. His heart raced, and the world he was inside was gone, with all kinds of sounds invading his mind again.

"Are you all right? You became a little different—" She crooked her head slightly, "—I think? Now you seem normal, though?"

Narsiz gulped and nodded toward her, smiling as he tried to calm down. "Yeah, sorry. I just had a lot of ideas about what to do next."

Linuel shrugged, "Great, but let's wait here, okay?"

Narsiz nodded as he saw that he was waiting at the harbor. Something had happened, and according to the multiple calls he heard, it had probably something with his skills to do.

'Did I get to Tier 3?! How...'

What happened felt like a [Mystic Skill], but before he could contemplate further, he already saw his guest from further away, as it was the only one with a distinctive sword on his hip.

Narsiz immediately approached him without fear, greeting him while removing his mask, "My friend! I hope you searched us goodly!" His djinnish was rough.

Thaldon nodded, pulling his hood back, "I see that we do it like this, Narsiz, I assume."

Sarah and Linuel stood beside him, and while they barely understood a word, they were eying his every move. According to Irisk, he was a dangerous person, ready to kill himself, just cut off the enemy's arm.

"Why not? It's not likely we will attract any weird people, right?

Thaldon looked around and sighed, accepting that it wouldn't be as secretive as he probably imagined, "I guess I understand what you mean, but I hope you will not..."

He was interrupted by a squeaky voice, trying to push through from behind the group, "Oh, hello there, dear brother—" She stood before him, proud, her nose high up, "—fancy seeing you here without any guards."

Thaldon looked down at her, smirking, "I see you didn't add to your [Intelligence] attributes while we were away. Guards would only alert others, and sadly, not many are loyal to me like some vermin I look at now."

Irisk stomped her foot, looking at him angrily. However, before she could say anything, Narsiz grabbed her shoulder slightly, pushing her back while opening his arms in a friendly manner.

"Oh my! Let's go to the meeting room, right? It's just a triangle, but I prepared some mouthwatering breads for us ~♪."