Considering that they currently weren’t able to receive any updates through the command channels, Merrick didn’t find it surprising that he wasn’t the only one interested in listening in on what the people in command were talking about. What did surprise him was the fact that so many people were crowding around him, pressuring him to relay what he was hearing. He was surrounded by avid listeners who were relying on him to find out how long they had to wait for the army to arrive.
Merrick found it ridiculous how few mages here had mastered the ‘targeted-listening’ spell. During his time at the academy he’d gone to, it had been one of the first spells he’d learned. It had been an essential component to what limited success he’d had in his classes. The spell had even proven useful more recently during his job as a caravan guard. Merrick couldn’t remember how many times he’d eavesdropped on his bosses without them knowing about it. The fact that all these people hadn’t bothered to learn it was disturbing.
“Why isn’t Battle Leader Averett having the scouts sneak their way back into range of the Battle Hub? They could easily set up a relay system to make contact,” said one of the Wackos on his left.
Rolling his eyes at the interruption to his narration, Merrick was about to explain the utter stupidity of that statement before he was spared the effort by one of his fellow mages on his right. “They’re already in contact with the army and Dorchester through communication orbs. Getting in touch with them isn’t the problem, getting us back through the kobald encampments is the problem. You need to pay attention!”
Trying to ignore the argument happening in front of him, Merrick frowned at what he’d just heard over his spell. “Hold on, the scout team leader is saying that one of the tunnel guards ran into some soldiers from the army.”
Wackos all around him whispered some variations of ‘Really?’ and ‘That’s great!’.
Waving his good arm in an effort to calm them down, he said loudly, “It’s not the army! It’s just a forward team that got past the kobalds somehow.”
The idiot on his left who’d been testing Merrick’s patience asked a little too loudly, “What are they doing here? Why didn’t the rest of the army come with them?”
Turning to glare at the man, Merrick replied, “How in the hells below am I supposed to know? I’m just telling you what they said.”
Hearing Battle Leader Averett ordering Knight Angelton to get the reserves up and active, Merrick cursed, “Centaur crap on a biscuit, everyone scatter! Get back to your teams!”
Dropping his ‘targeted-listening’ spell, Merrick focused on the connection he and the rest of his team shared with their team leader. Not 20 seconds later, he heard her ordering them all to head to barricades and take up their support positions.
Ignoring the annoying questions he was being bombarded with by the people who, for some inexplicable reason, assumed he knew more than he was telling them, Merrick rushed toward the barricade at a run.
When he got there, he began awkwardly rubbing his good hand over the mangled remains of his left forearm. After nearly having lost everything below his wrist to a kobald’s bite, all the healers had done was stop the bleeding. He didn’t fault them for choosing to delay fully healing him, as their essence was better spent getting the melee fighters back up to full strength. However, it was annoying to have to wait until he got back to Dorchester for the damage to his arm to be completely restored. It also didn’t feel all that smart to go into battle without his condition being back up to 100%.
Looking around, he saw that like him, everyone was ready and waiting to see what would happen. ‘The soldiers better be coming to tell us the army is on its way. If I have to spend another night without my link, I’m going to end up killing someone,’ he thought to himself sarcastically.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Battle Leader Averett arriving at the barricade. Taking advantage of how close he was, he recast his ‘targeted-listening’ spell at her feet and waited to hear what the soldiers had to say.
Listening closely, he grimaced at the report of one of the kobald encampments breaking up and flooding the tunnels. That wasn’t what he’d hoped to hear.
A few moments later, he felt the aftereffects of a disturbance in the essence flows behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Archmage Jennings, currently the most powerful being in Dorchester, arriving through that magnificent teleport spell he had. Dropping his jaw in shock, he was utterly surprised to see that the archmage had brought along Lord Walker.
‘What is he doing back here?!? Shouldn’t he be working with the army to get us out of here? Does he not trust us to get ourselves back on our own? Is the army not coming?’ he wondered.
Lost in his thoughts, he missed the rest of the exchange Battle Leader Averett had with the soldiers. He did, however, hear Lord Walker mentioning something about… beer?
‘Why in the hells below and heavens above would he bring beer? Is he planning to drink while he evaluates us?’ Merrick wondered to himself, utterly baffled at what his lord was thinking.
—--
Being totally unaware of what exactly he’d done to piss her off, Nero tried to take advantage of the fact that he could sense what she was feeling through his essence field. It wasn’t easy, and he hadn’t had a lot of practice doing it, but if he could understand what she was broadcasting then he might be able to calm the scary woman down. If he wasn’t mistaken, it almost felt like he’d disappointed her somehow.
At best guess, Cathleen was likely blaming him for having left her here to handle everything on her own. Considering what type of person she was, he could see her blaming him for ‘fleeing the field of battle’ or something… regardless of whether or not he’d had a choice in the matter. And judging by the current look on her face, it didn’t seem like she’d be accepting his peace offering of beer and snacks.
Deciding to focus more on what she was saying rather than what he was sensing, Nero asked, “Why are you looking at me like that? This is the first I’m hearing about it. Nobody told me you guys were in trouble or I’d have come back sooner.”
Seeing as she was still glaring at him, he added, “I’m not responsible for what the little bastards get up to. Besides, if there really are kobalds coming, then why would you want to abandon the defenses you just spent all day setting up? Wouldn’t it be smarter just to wait here for them, wipe them out, then leave after?”
If anything, Nero could tell that whatever he’d just said had simply made her even angrier.
It was also pretty clear that she wasn’t the only one unhappy to see him. Everywhere he looked, he could see Wackos staring at him with somewhat sad expressions on their faces. What was even weirder was what he was sensing through their essence fields. He could tell that what they were feeling wasn’t exactly anger or frustration, it was more like they were just disappointed that he’d come back.
‘Maybe they really have lost all faith in me. I did get a bunch of them killed before running off to go recover in my comfy-ass mansion like a dickhead. I’d be pissed at me too,’ he thought to himself.
Her voice was disturbingly calm when she replied in a professional but somewhat clipped tone, “The army dispatched a scouting team to lead us through the tunnels. One of the kobald encampments was broken up by the dwarves on their way here. The remaining kobalds have spread out through the tunnels below us. If we leave now, we’ll hopefully be able to sneak back out of the upper city before they have a chance to regroup.”
Nero listened closely, trying to get his brain box back into the right state of mind. He’d expected to come back to a more festive mood, not another impending battle. After all the time spent with these people, he’d figured they would have ignored their losses and been congratulating themselves for their success. He’d assumed that he would have been the only one who cared that people had died.
Also, he still hadn’t figured out what they were all still doing here. They should have already started back down the mountain by now. Jennings had said that their losses hadn’t been all that bad. Even Vera had barely seemed to have cared that they’d lost people. And the Wackos here should have had more than enough troops to fight their way back through the encampments. So, what were they waiting for?
Without waiting for him to respond, Cathleen turned around and began walking away. Having apparently decided to completely ignore him, she began gesturing left and right with her spear while angrily pointing at things and barking orders at anyone and everyone within shouting distance.
Standing there, feeling like an unwanted houseguest, Nero didn’t know what to do other than watch as the Wackos began running around like ants serving their new queen. Faster than he thought possible, what few tents the Wackos had set up were being broken down while teams began arranging themselves into formation getting ready to head out.
“Forgive me for asking, my lord. But why have you returned? Hadn’t the archmage evacuated you to Dorchester? We were told you were safe,” asked a voice from his left.
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Surprised to hear someone actually talking to him, Nero turned to see his old combat buddy looking at him in confusion.
“Merrick!” Nero shouted while holding his arms out wide as if he were readying himself for a hug.
When the man didn’t visibly respond, Nero dropped his arms and said, “I’m so glad you made it. But, what’s going on? Why are you all still here? And why is everyone looking at me like I slept with their sister? I think it’s a little unfair to blame me for not being there to rez everyone. I died too you know. I mean, I have the right to feel guilty about what happened, but it’s kind of unfair for you all to be blaming me for it. I warned you all this would be dangerous. But never mind that. There are never any winners in the blame game. Tell me, how many did we lose? And what the hell happened to your arm? It looks like you spent the afternoon jacking off a woodchipper.”
Rather than wait for Merrick to explain the current morale problem, Nero walked up to the man and began casting one of his more familiar regeneration spells. Gripping Merrick by the shoulder, he reached out through his spell form into the man’s body, funneling as much essence as he could along the way. By this point, he’d practically mastered the art of rebuilding a human body from the ground up, so it wasn’t all that difficult for him to heal a few scars. It took less than 30 seconds before Nero saw the flesh beginning to fill back out, restoring Merrick’s arm to full functionality.
Chuckling to himself, Nero ignored the sound of Merrick hissing in pain while he magicked away the man’s deformity.
“Stop complaining,” Nero muttered before adding, “This can’t hurt worse than what it felt like to get your arm all fucked up in the first place. Pain is the mind-killer… wait, no that's not it… it’s weakness leaving the body. Yeah, pain is weakness leaving the body.”
When Nero finished, Merrick stepped back and began rubbing his newly healed arm. The expression on his face didn’t look nearly as grateful as Nero expected it to be.
“Thank you, my lord. You didn’t have to see to it yourself. I could have waited until the healers attended to it,” Merrick said softly.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Nero before waving his hand as if it didn’t matter.
Trying to redirect the conversation back to what they’d been talking about before Nero noticed the man had been injured, he asked, “Merrick, seriously what’s going on? Why isn’t anyone happy to see me? From the moment I got here, everyone’s been looking at me like they just found out I’ve been stealing their WiFi, or accidentally let the dog out or something. What has everyone been saying while I’ve been gone?”
Looking somewhat confused, Merrick replied, “I don’t think you understand, my lord. They’re not blaming you for the few deaths our forces have suffered. You led us to an impossible victory. You’re a hero. You closed the portal and defeated the kobalds almost all on your own. If anything, we failed you! We’re just all a little confused as to what you’re doing here. You should have remained in Dorchester, where you’re supposed to be.”
Nero grimaced at the tone Merrick was using. The few times they’d spoken throughout their trip through the tunnels, Nero had noticed the man struggling to sound as proper as possible. But, he’d thought the man had gotten used to treating him a little less like a noble by now. Why was he trying to sound all overly respectful again?
“Why wouldn’t I come back?” Nero asked. “I fought my way up here with you all. So why would you assume I wouldn’t want to fight my way back down alongside you?”
Nero could tell by Merrick’s twitching eyes that the man was having trouble stopping himself from running off to join the formation, but Nero’s proximity and attention were keeping him rooted in place.
“My lord, it’s not that simple. Yes, you fought with us, as any good lord should. However, the archmage himself removed you from the field of battle after your victory. Battleborns and Populators were there to see you… come back. You earned your respite. Having you return here after you were recalled makes it seem as if you don’t trust us to make it back to Dorchester on our own,” Merrick replied sadly, sounding somewhat ashamed to admit it.
Not understanding, Nero replied, “Well, first of all… Stop talking like that. You sound like you’re applying for a job at a bed and breakfast. And, if you’re worried about fighting your way back down through the mountain, why don’t I just get Jennings to teleport us all back to Dorchester directly? Now that the portal is closed, he can clearly teleport anyone he wants around here now. Vera’s making him keep an eye out on me, so I could probably just give him a shout.”
Just as Nero was about to yell into the air, summoning Jennings back here to collect everyone, Merrick shouted, “No! I mean, please don’t do that, my lord.”
Placing his hands on his hips, Nero glared at the man. “Why not? Is this another social convention thing that I’m misunderstanding? Like the way you all end your conversations by just walking off like assholes? Or how you don’t shake hands?”
Nero noticed that Merrick was again glancing uncomfortably toward the formation which was almost ready to move out.
Running his newly healed hand through his hair, Merrick replied, “I’m not sure what you mean by that, my lord. But, the archmage has no right to interfere in our battles. He is drastically over-leveled for this conflict. It is up to us to handle this ourselves. It’s our responsibility and our duty. How can we find our path if we don’t walk it?”
Nero didn’t respond aside from increasing the intensity of his glare.
Deciding to further explain, Merrick added, “My lord, after the power you displayed, the archmage likely removed you from the battle to allow us to grow. Your coming back here may be considered an insult to our abilities. Do you truly not believe we can successfully represent House Walker without embarrassing you? A lord should protect his troops, only leading them into conflicts that they can reasonably challenge. But, to have so little faith in our abilities… it’s… Well, it makes us feel as if we’ve failed you. I’m sure Battle Leader Averett is eager to prove you wrong.”
Nero replied, “Well, that’s just idiotic. Of course you can handle yourselves. You guys are awesome. We just won a major battle. Closed an interdimensional portal. Saved the day. We’re heroes. You should be proud of yourselves. But what does that have to do with forcing yourselves to fight your way back through the mountain? There is no reason to put yourselves through that. At least not for some silly matter of pride or whatever. Now, if you just wanted the opportunity to kill a few more kobalds without me taking care of everything myself, I can get behind that. Those little bastards suck. But not wanting me to fight alongside you because I’m too good at it or whatever is kinda stupid… kinda really stupid. Isn’t your whole society built on the concept of working together in harmony and stuff? Like, isn’t that your whole ‘thing’?”
Nero felt a connection reach directly into his head and activate itself. The sensation was both painful and unavoidable. It felt like someone had busted open his mind with a battering ram before throwing in a flash grenade. In no way did it resemble a reasonable request for communication.
‘Nero! Why do you never listen to me? I’ve been trying to explain this to you for the past few hours! Everyone has their own path. You’ve demonstrated that you are too powerful for this type of conflict. Your level has been low enough to allow you more leeway than you probably should have had from the beginning. But now, everyone knows what you are capable of. You shouldn’t be there! You have other concerns you should be attending to. This is beneath you! How would you feel if I had just ended the conflict with the kobalds with a wave of my hand and ruined your little adventure before it even began?’ Jennings’ voice echoed across Nero’s skull before the connection closed with a snap.
After wincing in pain at the unwelcome intrusion, Nero looked up into the sky and screamed, “I don’t know… Grateful?!? The fact that you haven’t is kind of bullshit. It doesn’t prove anything other than that you couldn’t give a shit about these people. And I swear to god, if you force your way into my mind again like that, I’m going to wipe my ass on your pillow and give you pink eye!”
Apparently shouting into the air like a madman freaked Merrick out something fierce, because the man fled to join the formation the moment Nero broke eye contact with him. Sagging his shoulders a bit, Nero was disappointed to see someone whom he thought might become a good friend running away from him.
Sparing a moment to glare up at the cavernous ceiling above his head, Nero wondered if Jennings could tell how pissed he was at the moment. The man was likely still bitching to anyone who would listen about how he never paid attention to him.
‘Narcissist,’ Nero thought to himself.
Now that he was alone, he took a moment to think over what Merrick had said. The man’s argument was logical… kind of. At least as long as Nero looked at it through the lens of how things were around here. But, it was hard for Nero to do so, because he couldn’t bring himself to agree with the core concept that powerful people should just sit back and let the weak deal with their problems on their own.
Back on Earth, humanity progressed because the people who’d come before had shared their wisdom and knowledge with the subsequent generations that came after them. That was an irrefutable fact. It was just how it was.
But, there was also a lot of history repeating itself and people having to learn from their own mistakes. So, Nero couldn’t help but wonder if there were elements that both societies shared that he’d just never noticed.
Sure, taking into account leveling and growth and stuff, he could see how the society here had developed the way it had. But, he also couldn’t get past the fact that the dividing line between who was allowed to participate in conflicts like the one Dorchester was having with the kobalds and who wasn’t was so arbitrary. Granted, there were probably specific level gradients that might quantify who is ‘too powerful for the area’, but based on the fact that Jennings was saying that Nero was too powerful meant that it also partly had to do with levels of ability. So, if a person was strong enough to single-handedly affect the outcome of a fight, were they just supposed to sit back and watch people struggle? If that were true, then the only people who could fight were people who had a reasonable chance of dying in the attempt. That’s a policy doomed to failure… or at least incredibly slow progress on a societal level.
“It’s no wonder humanity hasn’t taken over the entire world. The death rates here must be ridiculous,” he muttered to himself.
Glancing over at the formation, he could see they were already beginning to move out.
Sighing to himself, he turned to look over his shoulder at the former throne room. The piles of kobald bodies were still there, apparently having been left to decompose without anyone bothering to take the time to deal with them. He also couldn’t help but note that the few essence lights that remained in the chamber were filling the room with heavy shadows, making the sight wholly unwelcoming to look at. Seeing the throne room now, it didn’t resemble what anyone would expect from the site of an epic battle, it looked more like the site of a horror film.
Turning away, Nero decided that he better chase down the formation before they got too far away. Whether his Wackos believed they needed him or not, he didn’t want to leave them to fight their way back on their own. Just because they’d probably be fine, didn’t mean he wouldn’t take the time to ensure it. He’d gone off on his own before, and people had died. This time, he’d make sure they all got back home safe.
‘If Jennings or whoever else wants to bitch about it, I’ll just tell them that it is MY path, and they shouldn’t interfere with it. Stupid arguments can only be overcome by even stupider ones. Kindergarten logic for the win,’ Nero reminded himself.
Chuckling in amusement at how clever he was, he hopped over the little earthen barriers the Wackos had set up and began jogging after the formation at a comfortable pace. He knew he’d likely feel better after he got to kill a few lizard clones or possibly heal some people. Nero recognized that he selfishly just wanted to contribute.