Row upon row of tents greeted them outside. It was hard to see far as though the rain had finally stopped it was still quite foggy. The camp appeared extensive, he could not see an end to the tents in any direction. It had a worn feel to it, many of the tents were more patch than the original cloth and the ruts in the road were so deep that wood planks had been laid atop. The same went for the soldiers who occupied the camp. Scars were quite common and many had a distant look in their eyes. It made for quite a dismal picture.

As if I needed more reasons to leave. This is just depressing.

There was a barked word from behind him and Dante realized he was blocking the tent entrance. Muttering a quick, “sorry”, he hastened after the giant. He had to dodge around a few women as he did so, but he hurried over to where the giant was waiting.

I can’t keep just referring to this guy as ‘the giant’ and I can’t just ask for his name. From now on I will call him Jack, short for Jackass, on account of his winning personality.

‘Jack’ glowered at him while he approached, the picture of impatience. When Dante had reached his side, he was startled when Jack placed one large mitt over one of his shoulders. His fingers dig into Dante’s flesh like talons.

“The hell?”

Dante attempted to pull away, but It was no use. Jack’s hands might have well been made of steel for how little they budged. Any further attempts were put on hold as Jack began moving, tugging Dante along like he was an unruly toddler. Dante took a deep breath and tried to suppress a flare of anger.

What was it with people trying to touch me recently?

Dante suddenly realized that they were attracting a lot of curious looks, most of which seemed to be directed at him. He felt his face flush and he stopped fighting, instead focusing on trying to match his Jailors' much longer stride. However, the gazes did not abate. Even when they had moved far enough along that they were surrounded by entirely new people.

Do I stand out that badly? I mean, they look strange to me so it must work the other way around too huh? He thought eyeing one woman who had hair that was such a deep purple that it approached black. Red eyes gleamed at him through the slate in one soldier's helm and one woman had hair that looked like spun silver.

Something about the crowd's makeup bothered him. He did a quick head count, just to be sure. Yep, now I am certain. There are way more women here than. It’s something like a 3 to 1 ratio.

Dante wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it had to be important. Something cultural perhaps? Like some Amazonian thing? Though some of the men he had spotted had been in command positions, like that one grizzled veteran who had been with that terrifying woman. Maybe these people are matriarchal?

Everything here was so strange and different that Dante questioned every little thing he did. Should I be greeting people a certain way? Have I done anything rude? Am I expected to do things because I am a man? There was no way of knowing and he was probably going to step on some toes no matter how hard he tried. He should probably keep his eyes down and do his best to fall by the wayside until he had some idea of what was going on.

Dante had stopped paying attention to the road, trusting Jack to guide him. It came as a surprise then, when an armored gauntlet entered his field of view and shoved him. Hard. If it had not been for Jack's grip, he likely would have flown backward and landed flat on his back. As it was, he had all of his breath knocked out of him.

Wheezing for air, he sagged in Jack’s grip. When he regained his bearings, he looked up to see Jack and some unknown armored woman engaged in a furious argument. The woman, who seemed enraged, was currently jabbing a finger at Dante while Jack had his unburdened hand up in a placating gesture and was speaking in a soft tone.

Shit! What was that? Did I do something? Dante raked his memory for a reason but couldn’t think of anything that he had done that could have resulted in this. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to apologize anyway. I do not want to get on the bad side of anyone who can punch like that.

“I am sorry? I have no idea what I did, but I apologize for it.”

Surprisingly, that did seem to do the trick. The furious women fell silent and Jack seized the opportunity to explain something to her. She nodded along as he pointed first at Dante’s hair, then at his eyes. Ah, so those are what were what was standing out. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen anyone yet with blonde hair or green eyes.

The conversation between Jack and the soldier women seemed to be winding down. Jack seemed to finish a point and the woman sniffed, raised her chin high, and marched away. Leaving Dante still rather confused.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He realized that during that entire exchange, neither of them had so much as looked at him.

Not that he had much time to dwell on it for the moment, as Jack resumed their march but even faster now. Dante had to almost jog to keep up. Fortunately for his recovering lungs, their journey soon came to an end when they approached an open-sided cart that was burdened with many crates and bags. Balancing rather precariously on the cargo, were three women and one man.

They turned unfriendly looks towards Dante and Jack, which lingered on him. They were a motley bunch, with patched uniforms and unwashed hair. Every single one of them had a grievous injury of some kind. Missing limbs were common and one poor sop had a bandage over both their eyes.

As soon as Dante laid eyes on the cart and its occupants all tension drained out of him and he sighed in relief. With how I was being treated I thought I might be going to a prison or … to an execution. He swallowed dryly at the thought. I still might end up in a cell, but at least it won’t be here. With luck, we are going to a hospital.

His mood much improved, he barely minded when Jack lifted him into the cart and onto a crate like a mother cat with its kitten. It was a close fit and he was squashed right up against the blind woman on one side and a person-sized sack of grain on the other. Jack climbed into a seat directly opposite him and finally released his grip on Dante's shoulder. This was immediately followed by a pins and needle sensation and he began to massage blood back into the area.

Did he really have to grab on so tight? I think it might bruise.

Jack called something to the driver and there was a lurch as the wagon began moving. It was much more intense than Dante expected and he had to grab at the wagon’s rail to avoid falling off. They soon accelerated to an uncomfortable speed, especially given that the wagon seemed to transmit every bump in the road directly to his rear. Wincing, he craned his neck to gaze around the luggage and see what was pulling this thing.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but a massive six-legged lizard the size of a minivan was not it. It didn’t look quite like any lizard he was familiar with as it had tufts of brilliantly colored feathers at its joints and a large fan across its spine. As if sensing his gaze, the creature twisted its head on a long sinuous neck and looked directly into his eyes. It had flat irises and had a vacuous gaze much like a cow. A large tongue snaked out of its mouth and wiped one eyeball the size of a soccer ball.

It had on a saddle and bridle from which reins extended to a woman at the front of the wagon. Her attire mirrored her charge, incorporating armor made from a scaled hide and feathers for decoration. She held a many-tongued whip in her hand which she used to lash the side of the beast. It didn’t seem to bother the lizard and, after a moment, it turned in the same direction as the lash. Dante slowly leaned back around to his original position and resolved to stay near the back of the cart.

Everything in this land is bizarre. Nothing seems to make sense.

Dante felt unmoored. So many extraordinary things had happened that he was having difficulty processing it all. In the short time he had been here he had been thrust into what was basically magic World War I, nearly died, then had witnessed a healing miracle. He desperately needed some time to absorb all that had happened.

I hope we are going to a city. While he would still be a stranger in a strange land in such a place, at least he wouldn’t have to fear indiscriminate death. Besides, Dante was sure that there was something in his modern knowledge that he could leverage to make a living.

Feeling a little reassured, he settled against the crate and resolved himself for a long trip. The others in the cart seemed to have no desire to make conversation and he was content in the silence. Jack was dangling his feet over the back of the cart and had taken to sharpening his sword. It was a massive slab of iron, easily longer than Dante was tall, and it made him more than a little nervous to be within a few feet of it. Nevertheless, eventually exhaustion had caught up to him and Dante began to drowse off. Through half-lidded eyes, he spotted something in the sky. He reluctantly opened his eyes and squinted, trying to bring it into focus There was something up there. Something big, iridescent, and glowing.

The barrier.

Once again he marveled at the size of the thing, though the intricacy was also astounding. It seemed like every time he looked at it he noticed another detail. Now that he was on the inside, he was able there see a detailed tapestry of threads that stretched from runic diagram to diagram. While it was beautiful, he couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling in his gut.

Something is off.

Dante tried to find the source of that sensation as the barrier grew clearer, emerging from the fog. Why does seeing this make me so uneasy? Maybe because it is connected to the same battlefield where I nearly died? That could be it, such an experience would probably forever taint his experience of magic.

But why can I smell that awful stench of rot and death again? He frowned, wrinkling his nose. It was significantly more intense than he expected. Almost as if …

He bolted upright and stared hard at the road before them. Slowly emerging from the mist was a row of trenches, much more complete than the ones he remembered. They teamed with soldiers and, even as he watched, injured shuffled out of the trench to a group that was waiting for them.

Nonono, this can’t be happening! Why would they ever send maimed soldiers back to the front? Dante shook his head violently. It doesn’t matter, I have to leave. Now.

He turned, preparing to jump off the cart and make a break for it when he caught Jack's eye. For the first time since they met, the man was staring straight at him. It was the type of look you would give a disobedient dog when it pissed on the carpet. He noticed that the giant had one hand on his sword’s hilt. A ray of light caught the razor-sharp edge as the pair considered each other.

Ah, so that’s how it is.