Graten thought about one of his new Feats: [The Fallen Gave Me Strength]. For every one that dies under his command, his strength will increase for a time. He gained this after most of his men and women were killed by the [Bounty Hunters] in the mountains, so he kept it secret. They assumed that cutting dozens of Goblins with each swing of his sword is part of his Feats and experience. However, he didn’t tell them of that specific Feat, because of the potential implications, despite the other Feats they know he has.
He felt guilty about it. His power, his Feats, reminded him of the people he lost. And he both loathe and had been grateful for the brown book and the brothers that gave him this power. His train of thought disappeared when Cultrost told him they were paid to assist the militia.
The Severed Swords joined the militia’s assembly on the town’s outskirts. They were a bunch of townsfolk: [Smiths], [Leatherworkers], [Farmers], and many other Roles in civil society. They never held a weapon, nor shed and bled blood in defense of their town until the goblins attacked. Many of them gained [Warrior] and other such combat Roles during the five days they were being raided.
Graten saw how green they were. They are so green that it hurts to look at them. To an extent, he and his men—Cultrost too—were veterans staring down at rookies. They heard the prattling of the [Militia Leader], who was a [Smith] before he gained the Role after he valiantly led the people against the Goblins in the absence of [Soldiers] and their ruling [Lord].
“We will march towards the cave. We will give them no quarter when we enter their lair-”
However valiant, he has no notion of tactics.
The Severed Swords and Graten approached the [Militia Leader], startling him. The peasants and craftsmen with spears, bows, pitchforks, and various farming and crafting implements repurposed for battle stared incredulously at the [Mercenaries].
“That’s stupid,” Graten stated, practically shouting it for everyone in the militia could hear. He did not shout, but his voice was loud and clear nevertheless.
“What did you say?” The [Militia Leader] gripped his hammer, offended by the interloper.
“I said, marching into a cave is stupid.”
“We have numbers!”
“So? Do you know how many Goblins are there?”
“N-no.”
They stared at each other, until the [Militia Leader] faltered, lips quivering under pressure.
“We are the Severed Swords! Cultrost, here,” Graten pointed at him. “And his brother are our employers. We saw more battles than you in your entire lives! The [Mayor] has paid us to help you worthless lot. You!”
Graten turned to the greenhorn [Militia Leader].
“What is your name?”
“Mardor.”
“You are a [Militia Leader]. That is something. However, I am a [Sword Captain] with a dozen battles in my belt. From now on, you are under my and my employer’s command.”
“Why?”
Someone in the crowd foolishly asked.
“Only our [King], the nobility, and our authorities can order us! It is sacrilege to serve any other master! It’s in the Decree!” Mardor protested.
“Blast that decree, whatever it is. Are you going to be sitting ducks waiting to be slaughtered and ravaged by Goblins? You think defending your town against Goblin bands is the same as a war?”
“We aren’t going to take orders from foreigners!” A woman among the crowd objected. The crowd jeered. Graten, irritated, looked at one of his men, and he knew what to do.
“Boo!”
The crowd yelped, startled by Tarast’s intimidating shout.
“See? Rookies.”
Graten and the Severed Swords chuckled at Tarast, who used this to scare new [Mercenaries] that they trained. Who they think have the nerve to fight on the battlefield. Cultrost grinned too.
“You want to die from Goblins, be my guest. I’ll watch from the sidelines while you march towards your deaths. However, if you want to live, if you want to avenge your families, fight under me. I will not have any disobedience during this mission.”
The militia looked at each other nervously.
“We’ll accept.” The [Militia Leader] grudgingly agreed.
"First, we must scout ahead. Then, we'll form a perimeter outside of the cave and possible passages where the goblins will come out. Assuming that they are all in one place, we will set up camp around it. We will watch for any foraging bands that may come behind our encampment."
"I got a suggestion." Cultrost voiced. "What if we can smoke them out with fire? Put a pyre at the cave entrance. Block the entrance and watch them suffocate or burn.”
Graten was surprised at Cultrost’s ingenuity.
“We’ll do that. Now…”
The Severed Swords and the militia marched towards the cave, guided by the [Militia Leader]; his knowledge was based on the [Scouts] that he sent a day before. They had seen goblins emerging from the mineshaft. This mine was an iron mine of the town before it was abandoned, hence why it is nearby the settlement. They trudged through the forests, the [Sword Captain] vigilant against sudden ambushes. A small hill loomed over the forest, partially enveloping the trees under its shadow.
By mid-afternoon, they found the entrance of the cave after two hours. It was an old mineshaft at the side of the hill. The rubble was partially cleared off the entrance by its new inhabitants. Graten’s sharp eyes saw specks of blood in some of the stones.
"Josaif, tell the militia to encircle the shaft," Graten ordered. “Grab a portion of them to chop wood for the pyre. Assign sentries to watch for ambushes.”
Cultrost observed how Graten ordered the militia around, with his men delivering his orders to do. They did the tasks reluctantly, but they followed the [Mercenary]’s orders nevertheless. Some of them loudly grumbled, especially how non-Humans carried Graten’s orders, but they all knew the necessity of having an actual leader with experience in combat. Bushes and small trees were chopped down for the pyre. Branches and some logs were carried to the maw of the cave, with people watching its subterranean darkness for goblins that may emerge. Cultrost and the others knew that most goblins are inactive in the morning, with the attack earlier being an outlier.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
The [Militia Leader] and Graten conversed, with Graten offering Mardor advice about leading people to battle in their downtime. The pile of wood was blocking three-fourths of the mineshaft. The scouts did not find any other passageways around the hill or errant goblins. An impromptu abatis was erected around the mineshaft where the militia waited.
“Burn it.” Cultrost gave the order to Graten. Two men set the pyre alight with an already burning branch. The flames burned the wood, and the smoke wafted down the mineshaft. Cultrost wasn’t truly sure if it will work or not. There’s a possibility that the mineshaft is large enough that the smoke wouldn’t reach them.
However, the nape of his neck tingled. His [Dangersense] was telling him something. He saw small green bodies frantically climbing the pyre, but they burned in the dozens. By now, some of the monsters were choking on fumes.
The pyre suddenly burst into cinders as a large shape emerged from the flames. Three burning figures were wildly swatting the flames on their bodies. The flames winked out. Three burnt Hobgoblins lumbered forwards.
A lone goblin with a staff of wood and animal skulls and armed goblins surrounding it emerged from the mineshaft. Goblins charged, trampling on the burnt corpses of the other goblins who burnt on the pyre, casting their malicious red eyes to
“Arrows!”
The militia let loose arrows. A few of the charging goblins fell. The arrows went around the Goblin Shaman instead of impaling him. A dome of air spun around the goblin.
"Shaman under arrowguard!" Graten warned, forming the Severed Swords in the vanguard. The three larger Hobgoblins raised their pilfered weapons.
Cultrost thought about how they can eliminate the shaman. Like what they did with that [Negociator], he needed to get close. One raised his club, threatening to smash Graten, but with a flick of his sword, the [Sword Captain] bisected the Hobgoblin, cutting through the wooden club. Cultrost saw an opening among the green crowd of goblins.
“Graten. I’ll kill the shaman.”
Before Graten could object, Cultrost ran to the gap in the disorganized mass of goblins. He had smashed a skull in as he tried to close the distance. Someone had nicked a cut on his shoulder, however, the adrenaline made him numb to the shallow wound. He ducked a whirling halberd, held by a mocking Goblin who chased him down in the tumultuous clash of Humans and Goblins before getting killed by a stray arrow.
Graten cleared two dozen Goblins with the same combination of Feats yesterday. The Goblin numbers were already dwindling with the militiamen's arrows. Those who managed to climb the row of trees were cut down by the militia. However, some goblins had armor and new weapons. They managed to overwhelm the weaker left side of the fortification, with newly stolen weapons, even some with low-grade enchantments. They had mail, plate, and gambeson armor pilfered from an earlier battlefield. [Militia Leader] Mardor led his men and women against the offending goblins. However, balls of fire and bolts of lightning killed many men and women, even the elderly who had volunteered for this battle. Mardor raged as he saw his fellow townsfolk getting slain, imbuing his sword and hammer with fervor.
Those surrounding the Shaman were nervous. Their red eyes watched a red Satyr charging toward them. Growling, one raised their shield, receiving a mace strike, but Cultrost leaped from the shield as the shield-bearing Goblin staggered from his strong blow.
The Shaman looked up in fear as he realized his mistake. He was too slow to cast another spell. What lies within his last fickle feral thought is how the monster regretted not being able to slaughter more people. Cultrost’s mace cracked the skull of the goblin shaman from above. Seeing many of their brethren dead, the goblins ran for it, but they were mercilessly impaled by arrows.
“Sorry-”
Graten slapped Cultrost with the force of a punch. Cultrost staggered, reeling from the irritated blow of a veteran. The [Sword Captain] glared softened as he pulled Cultrost up.
“Good job. But don’t risk yourself like that again. I can’t imagine what your brother will do to me if I got you killed.”
“Uh–thanks.”
Cultrost understood Graten’s concern. They both remember how [Bloodbound Contract] can dispose of those bound to it.
Graten looked at the dozen and a half casualties and it reminded him of burnt towns; the corpses of men who defended their homes scattered in the streets, children abandoned and estranged, as invaders took and ravaged their mothers and sisters. These townsfolk had volunteered to fight, without any training or experience, and he sent them to die.
Fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, and even grandparents in the militia held the hands of dead family members who fought with them. They knew tonight, they will gain a Feat or Role. They would be given Feats from this battle, at the cost of hardship, suffering, and loss. Such was the Law of this world.
Graten approached Mardor, grimly standing among the dead.
“This is the weight of leading in battle,” Graten spoke. Mardor glared at him, but he understood what the [Mercenary] meant.
“From every Feat or Role you get, be smarter, stronger, wiser, and faster. That’s what you have to do to atone for the dead.”
Graten left these words to the [Militia Leader]. Within Mardor, he felt regret and rage, coalescing into the ink that etched the powers in his soul.
[Role Played, Militia Leader]
[Feat - Furious Charge] developed!
[Feat –
He kept them to heart. If he wanted his hometown of Ascogres to be safe, he will do everything to be stronger. He oversaw the retrieval of the corpses, seeing the people carrying them on their backs. Graten and the Severed Swords cut the goblin corpse’s ears off and some of their weapons and armor.
Soon, they marched to the town. As they entered its gates two hours later, those who remained in the town cheered in the late afternoon, both in pride for their people, and relief that there will be no more deaths. The local convent of [Priests] offered small Miracles and prayers, reassurances that they had done well for the greater good of the Decree.
On that night, Numisley was invited by the [Mayor] to dinner as a sign of gratitude. Numisley insisted that Cultrost can come with Graten, and she acceded to the request. They were allowed entry into the [Mayor]’s home, which is not that lone beige keep that stood guard on the hill, but rather a spacious house within the town, within the vicinity of the keep’s vigil.
The [Mayor] of Ascogres handed the eighty silver coins on the table in a pouch. Graten passed it on the Numisley sitting at the other end of the table. Cultrost sat beside Numisley, stabbing the slice of glazed meat with a fork.
“Thank you for helping us quell the Goblin threat. You had killed them all?” Maryra asked.
“Yes.” Cultrost spoke. The [Mayor] still stared at him, not in disgust, but as if he was a strange foreign man. “I proposed the idea of smoking them out with a pyre burnt in the entrance of the mineshaft. Graten led the assault against goblins who survived it. He erected a wall of wooden spikes surrounding the mineshaft where the militia loosed arrows. They have a Shaman, which I killed.”
“As brave as the tribesmen of the Wild Continent.”
Cultrost glared at her but decided not to comment on her speciesism, despite the praise that she gave, albeit ignorantly worded. The Satyr belongs to no tribe after all.
“I do not take all the credit. Captain Graten’s leadership in the first place was more important than the risk I took.”
Graten gave Cultrost an approving look, and Numisley wondered what had happened.
“I would like to hire your [Mercenary Captain] to train the militia. If ever something like this happens again. To supplement the security of the town when our [Lord] arrives.” Mayor Mayra turned to Numisley and Cultrost. Numisley straightened his back, adjusting his position on the chair.
“If I accept, he will only be available during my stay in the town, and nothing more. I sell fish on behalf of Toreeso Commerro, after all.”
“Contiearl Toreeso Rahmeiros Commerro.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Numisley dismissed his correction. “How much can you pay us this time? My [Mercenaries] risked their lives after all.”
“Three gold. As long as you train them properly.”
“Graten, can I reveal your Roles?” Numisley turned to his [Sword Captain].
“Sure.” Graten gave his consent to reveal his private information.
“Graten Haovel is a [Sword Captain] and a [Watchman]. Anti-stealth, combat leader specialist. I won't accept any price lower than five gold coins for this small task. It would be a waste of his talent, am I right, Graten?”
“Of course.” Graten smiled.
“Four–five gold it is then.”
They had concluded the deal over the table on that night. Tomorrow, Graten and the Severed Swords had trained the militia, overseen by the Ascogres [Mayor]. Cultrost had participated with the Severed Swords too, as Numisley and Palden checked their finances. Numisley wrote notes and studied both books for three days.
On the third day, Çienten had achieved a breakthrough with Gildin Trading’s new fish sauce.