“You fucking imbecile!” Orland Shieldford bellowed. His frantic brown eyes glared at one of his men, who was sprawling on the ground with a giant ant on top of him.

The whimpering of that man was loud and clear as he frantically defended himself. Those mandibles clamped at the empty air as again and again, they reached out for the whimpering man’s flesh. But a second later, its head rolled. The giant ant limped on top of the whimpering man as the lad finally felt relieved.

“Get your ass off the ground!” Orland shouted. Grabbing the whimpering man by the collar and pulling him back up to his feet. He slathered the ooze of the giant ant on his sword to the whimpering man’s tunic and blatantly shouted at him right in the face. “Raise your shield and close that fucking gap!”

Orland gave a kick in the ass, hastening the whimpering man’s steps. But before the shield could close the gap of formation, something went through. All eyes were alarmed, and Orland was quick to change into his battle stance.

“Stay in formation!” Orland said. Reminding the rest to not waiver upon the appearance of this new anomaly. “I’ll take care of the new guest.” He didn’t forget to glare at the whimpering man, reminding him he still needed to clog up the gap in the formation and a glare did its job.

The modified phalanx formation was completed once more as the cacophony of ants knocking on their shields reverberated under the dome. It sounded like hail falling from the sky, but much worse.

Orland eyed the stranger from top to bottom. Seeing firsthand the result of someone fighting against the swarm alone without any support from any allies, and those cut-off horns embedded in his body were proof of it. Despite that, Orland had his suspicion. Many things ran inside his mind as he conjured a few possibilities that explained why this man stood before him in this state.

He could be abandoned by his mates or he could be the only one living at this point. But the devil’s advocate led him to believe that this man might be a scout or a spy. He was wary of this stranger, and he had all the right to believe so. A man covered in blood with clothes torn to shred and that sword covered in viscous goo which he assumed was from the ants. But truth to be told, if this man was really alone out there, then Orland was highly impressed by the strength of this man. He knew what would happen if a man went against the swarm out there, and survival was impossible. Not unless they had a brain like him who create this modified phalanx formation of course.

But then again, he wore that cold-stone face. Showing not a shred of emotion that might tell what he felt inside.

“Drop the blade, stranger,” Orland said.

There was silence for a few seconds as their eyes gazed at one another. Orland waited. Preparing for every possible outcome, and he wouldn’t run from a fight, especially within his own ground.

“I’m afraid I cannot, Lord Shieldford,” Zach said.

The moment his family name was called out, the cold-stone face gave a slight frown before vanishing. “Knowing this lord’s name isn’t going to curry favor,” Orland said. “Now do as you told, and I might not stab you with my sword.”

“Is there a healer in your midst?” Zach asked. His gray eyes roamed over the men holding on to their shields. Gaining the ire of the lord in command.

“For a stranger without allies, your mouth is doing a worse job in making sure you stay alive,” Orland said.

“Well perhaps the next thing I say might be the thing that will keep me alive,” Zach replied.

“And what can a man covered in his own blood, riddled with injuries, and running for his life, can offer to the Lord of the Iron Hill?” Orland asked.

He was a man in his late thirties and the reigning lord of the House of Shieldford. A man who was known for his combat prowess, especially in formation tactics. Back during the war against the Sun’s Flesh, Orland was one of the rookies that gained prominence through his achievement on the battlefield. Taking the head of one of the major cult’s officials at the ripe age of fifteen, even younger than Zach’s current age. So yes, a man of his caliber deserved to question what the bloody Zach could offer.

Stolen novel; please report.

“There’s a place called Land of Safe. Where the air heals your injuries and vitalizes your inner self. It is the best location for a temporary base until we wade through this strange wave off, and I, can lead you there, Lord Shieldford,” Zach said.

The response was lackluster, especially for a group of people in a constant barrage of attacks. They kept their silence, including the leading man of this group.

“An interesting tale. Claiming a place called safe is preposterous in itself. Nowhere in the world is safe, not even under the roof of my Iron Hill,” Orland said. Taking a jab at the event that just happened. A worldwide event that brought him here to a strange world with giant insects. “And perhaps this Land of ‘Safe’ might be a trap, don’t you think?”

The thundering knocks of the giant horn-ants echoed within the small chamber of their turtle formation as Zach and Orland traded glances.

“I guess this is enough pleasantries, Lord Shieldford. I know you have a healer in your midst, and I’ll get to the point,” Zach said. Getting more direct as things were not going to get better with how the shields were being rammed. “Heal me, and I’ll pave a path for your group to the Land of Safe.”

“Your mouth is clearly being an enemy to yourself, I suggest—”

“She’s a beautiful maiden, isn’t she?” Zach cut Orland off. His words finally drew a response on Orland’s face. “Golden brown hair flowing beyond her shoulders, with eyes reminding me of the glint of the emerald sea. A pity though. For such rosy slender fingers to hold a shield in a place like this is—”

“Enough!” Orland roared. His face was like an enraged demon, fuming with rising anger. “You spout one more thing about my daughter and I’ll rip that tongue off your face.”

Zach’s eyes did not betray him. Out of all the people under this dome of shield, the one who drew his gaze was none other than the dainty flower among the wild grasses. She was the only one who had no weapon in hand, trying her best to support the others by holding to their shields. Well, she could have a wand hiding within her dress, but the flail nested between Orland’s belt meant one of two things. It was either Orland was the healer or the father being too protective of his own daughter. And for someone who knew well about the Shieldford house, he would be an idiot if he could not recognize the daughter of Orland Shieldford.

“For someone who cares about his daughter, you’re doing a pretty bad job, don’t you think?” Again, Zach eyed in the direction of Orland’s daughter as he traded glances with her before falling back to the fuming Orland.

“You’re being attacked at all sides, and you barely move an inch,” Zach said. “With how things are going, I don’t think you can last through the night.”

Orland knew that well. He had realized that their situation was grave, and perhaps it was true that Zach was the light of their hope out of all of this. But he could not trust a stranger in a place like this as he believed betrayal could happen at any time. Even the men that held their shields around him were mostly strangers to him and if it wasn’t for his status as the Lord of Iron Hill, he wouldn’t have been able to rally their support.

“So what will it be Orland Shieldford? We do this the easy way or the unwarranted hard way,” Zach said. There was a meaning behind his words as if telling Orland that he wouldn’t mind pushing the limit of what was necessary as that meant kidnapping was an option.

Orland glanced at his daughter. Her eyes were scared, and she wanted nothing more but to return back to the comfort of her home. Yet it wasn’t possible. Not right now. Her fear made Orland think twice about the situation.

“Fine,” Orland said. He beckoned her daughter to come over as they stood side by side. His hand signaled Zach to come over, and there they stood just a foot from each other.

“Mark my words, stranger. If there’s a shred of betrayal in you, I won’t hesitate to chase you down to the pit of hell if I have to,” Orland said. Giving his last warning, showing he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.

“Noted,” Zach replied. Slightly grinning after all the debacle as he thought it was kind of funny he got the upper hand over the eternally prideful Orland Shieldford, and thankfully Orland didn’t see that grin since they were all under a bad light. Barely with any moonlight sieving through the gaps of the shields.

“Jeyne, heal him,” Orland said.

Jeyne Shieldford did as she was told, and the light of her healing bathed over the bloody Zach. His health replenished, and vigor returned back to his body. Zach felt like a new man and he was readied for another skirmish.

“Open a gap, and follow my lead,” Zach said.

Out of reluctance, Orland had to follow another man’s lead, and it sort of bruised his pride a bit. Yet he did it anyway, for the sake of his daughter. He ordered a slight gap to be made towards the direction of the Safe Zone, and Zach was readied to go out again.

Seconds before Zach departed, he heard Orland saying wait.

“I’m trusting my life, my daughter, and my comrades to you. It would be discourteous not to know your name,” Orland said.

Zach paused for a while, thinking. Then he answered.

“I am Zach. Zach Reacher,” Zach said.

He gave a fake name and it wasn’t without a reason. Well to say it simply, the Gardwin and the Shieldford were not in the best of relationship.