My group, or at least, most of my group, had quickly accepted the reality that we were barely a few degree removed from slaves.
Oh, there had been complaints aplenty about it, sure, but we'd seen two of our number reduced to a dark pink mist, just before landing in a field to get beaten by an angry man with a spear- who then handed us all off to another angry man... also with a spear.
We'd adapted, quickly.
This was just the new reality.
Add that all together with being sick, almost starving, and receiving a healthy amount of verbal abuse: by the time a majority of us were murdered in a fight we all would have much rather not been a part of, I truly think we understood our place in the world.
Sure, we were "Heroes" alright.
[Summoned Heroes]
There was some acknowledgement that we had worth, that because of this title we had advantages, but we weren't "chosen ones." Our story was not going to be anything like the tale of “King Arthur” or whatever else is close to that.
We were to be survivors, at best. Dispensable labor and meat-shields, at worst.
Mars, Jones, myself... we knew beyond any reasonable doubt: fighting the Demon Lord and saving the world was absolutely, 100%, not why we were brought here.
I guess that was a hard pill for the newbies to swallow.
Somehow, the new arrivals were still holding out some sort of hope. That, those reasons, were really what had brought them here. That they really were “chosen” and not just ordinary people, snatched from their lives by some fucked up ritual. I think, after our group, maybe the King cracked down a bit, or just gave a little-tiny-itty-bitty-bit more of a shit, for these guys.
Because they had significant trouble comprehending the facts.
"Why are were heroes, then? The status says that we're heroes!"
"That's just a title. It's branded on us, the moment we land here." Mars answered.
"But, doesn't that mean we're important?" They insisted. "The King-"
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Oh, fuck the King!" Mars shouted. "He's probably done this a thousand fucking times!"
It was all downhill from there.
They didn’t take the news all that well, though it was Mars delivering it to them. On top of having a bit of hard-edge, she didn't have much patience.
Plus, Jones and her... they were still particular about the bunks.
Luckily, there were plenty of those to go around.
Eventually, though: with bellies full, everyone did settle down for the night. Relocating their possessions to different bunks (farther away from Mars, Jones, and myself) seemed to bring conversation back to lighter subjects. With the miracle of warm food, most people even stopped crying, and Mars stopped punching people.
It was a calm.
In the absence of violence and emotional outbursts, I took the time to try explain the basics, as I understood them. Though I wasn't much for public speaking, or conversations in general, I did my best to tell them how they would get paid, and how wandering around the camp aimlessly was a VERY bad idea. I also told them why the "Hero" title we had was valuable, if only with some seriously heavy strings attached.
I did my best, with what I had.
I mean, they were owed that much. As their seniors, relatively speaking, they were in the same boat. Hiding anything important from them would only lead to more hardship, potentially coming back to bite us.
Mars, however begrudginly, helped me answer some of their questions, and Jones... well, he stared at people in a way that might have made Kepler proud. That was, saying the Squad Leader of Mud Tent had been there to see it.
I felt confident Kepler might have been off getting drunk, though, as he was nowhere to be found.
"What about the others?" A girl, one of the youngest newcomers, who went by the nickname of Jay, asked. "You said there were people with the [Swordsman] and [Archer] class for your group."
It was a good question.
I didn't have an answer to it. Neither did Mars, apparently, as she looked at me, then Jones, then shrugged.
Go figure, right before bed, they had finally asked a question that stumped us.
Stumped me.
I lay awake for a long while, trying to come up with an answer.
During the battle... well, I hadn't seen them...
But, that didn't mean they weren't there. Really, it just meant I hadn't seen them. As none of us were keen on walking around camp much, and adding to that: the fact that the camp was massive, with separate divisions and other allied companies stationed everywhere...
I was sure they had to be relatively close, even if t wasn't confident enough to go and find them.
Unless... maybe they had been given the all clear to leave?
If we improved enough, as heroes, wouldn't that also make sense?
Why would the Empire waste such a valuable resource on some pointless battlefield, if there was some better place for them to be?
As I lay on my top bunk, spinning the dagger as [Identify] rang out the same information, again and again... I had to wonder.