Chapter 481: The Han Civil War VII

Chapter 481: The Han Civil War VII

Soldiering was boring. Mind-numbingly, absurdly boring.

March here.

March there.

March in the sun.

March in the rain.

March on the rocks.

March in the rain that turns frigid as a frost wyvern flies by.

I loved Iona but damnit Fenrir, people were down here! Stop practicing your new element!

March in a bog.

Set up camp.

Wait, nevermind! Strike the camp, get back to marching.

Drill. Drill. Drill.

March up the hill.

March back down the hill.

Nevermind, we want to march up the hill.

Cut down a tree. Smooth it out. Shape it. Tie ropes around it and help lift.

Liberally apply [Sunrise] to keep going.

A thousand small indignities. We were often marching off-road, or on ‘roads’ that were so filled with water and mud it was impossible to tell. The grain ration was generous, but it was always grain and every day, twice a day, our line had to grind it up and figure out how we were cooking it today. Rarely, we had everything needed to make bread, but when pushed it was usually gruel. There was no mercy on the weather - pouring rain or pounding sun, we had to move from A to B.

Always fucked, never surprised.

Fuck chainmail. Fuck it so hard. The tiny, fiddly repairs when it broke was insult added to the injury of cooking alive in it during the heat. Thank fuck for Lucius - the man was a savant when it came to fixing stuff, but I didn’t want to lean on him too hard, he did so much for all of us.

Week after week, month after month. It was almost my birthday again, and we hadn’t been in a single battle yet, although we’d geared up like we were about to fight three times now.

All while under the obvious pressure of being second-class citizens.

We were mercenaries. We were human. The dullahans viewed both with suspicion, and if there was ever a debate or argument between an ‘Ironside Brigade’ soldier and a dullahan attached to the main army?

Only the most egregious offenses were ever decided in our favor. Everything else had a convenient excuse why the dullahan should be favored.

Always fucked, never surprised.

I learned my lesson when I paid a camp follower to improve some of my clothing. They had some beautiful stitching and embroidery in a style that couldn’t be found in Exterreri, and I thought some style and flair on my tunic would both make me a little happier, and make a nice memento when I was done here. Naturally, someone else picked up my tunic ‘by mistake’.

Well, I must have been mistaken. It clearly wasn’t my tunic, why would I impugn the good dullahan’s honor by claiming it was mine? Was I a dirty thief? Entirely possible, since I was a mercenary.

Ooooh, that got me so pissed. But not surprised in the slightest.

Another boring part was guard duty.

Turned out I was good at it. Really, really good. Being able to instantly scan the entirety of everything a person carried made it easy to sniff out any problems, issues, or contraband. I was almost too good at it, to the point where the [Centurion] had to pull me aside and ask me to use some discretion in what I called out. I’d managed to impact morale to a noticeable amount, and small, discreet amounts of personal contraband were... to have me using my best judgment.

In other words, stop fucking the other soldiers, and let some things be a surprise. Hey, who was I to argue against a reversal of the Legion’s usual operations?

Just because I was good at it didn’t mean I enjoyed it. Standing around trying to look imposing when I was 5 foot nothing was a challenge. Standing still?

Impossible.

Even with my mind split apart and trying to wander off in thought to entertain myself, I was bored out of my gourd. Scanning the sky for Iona was one of the few things I could do while standing still and doing my job, and it always lit my heart aflame whenever I saw Fenrir winging overhead.

Did she see me down here? Could she pick me out of the crowd?

I stifled a yawn as I waved through a pair of soldiers, ignoring what the one on the left had at the bottom of his boots - a Mirage ring that would let him modify his appearance, harmless enough and I remember him leaving the camp with it - and sniffing after the one to the right.

Did my nose deceive me...?

No.

It couldn’t be.

I smelled a faint trace of mango on his shirt. Not close enough to have been in contact with it, but someone in the camp might have some... dried, sugar-coated mango? I think that’s what I was getting.

Bunny was friendly.

Bunny enthusiastically volunteered for everything, no matter how fucking stupid of an idea that was.

Bunny had quite a few favors that people owed her.

I was totally going to see about cashing a few in to get my evening free so I could go a-mangoing.

A nervous set of camp followers approached the gate next, looking for entry so they could entertain. It was convenient, and I’d attended a few plays myself. Anything to entertain myself during the long stretches of boredom.

I glanced at Boots, who was on duty with me. She sighed at my look.

“Who, where?” She asked.

“The lady with the pink ribbons, small of her back, knife.” I reported. Some contraband I let through, but there were rules for our troops and rules for camp followers. We didn’t allow weapons in, and after the first fight that turned into a murder - I hadn’t been involved in any way shape or form - I wasn’t inclined to show the slightest bit of leniency.

“No ma’am. Just the apples.”

Katerina nodded crisply.

“Then head on out, take care of the vorlers, have a few days to yourself, and sneak back in. Send me a message ‘vampire smiles’ so I know you’ve succeeded, and haven’t died to the Vorlers or gotten into some mess.”

The Legata flicked a sheet of paper at me, detailing everything she knew about the Vorler infestation.

I saluted and left, off to exterminate the scorpion-like menace down to the last egg.

It got me thinking about the various threats in the world as I snuck out of the camp - why hadn’t I heard anything about Pekari here?

First thing was getting my tunic back.

The follower’s camp was a disorganized mess with people setting up anywhere they could. Some small semblance of local order prevailed as troops being unable to navigate through meant nobody would visit, but any organization was on a local level, not a broad level. There just wasn’t a single ruling authority or anything like that. Camp followers were just an entrepreneurial bunch - or families following their soldier around.

In Exterreri or any human-dominated area, I’d just walk right in and blend in with the crowds. The dullahan ratio meant that was entirely unfeasible, and I had to be much sneakier about it.

At the same time, there were barely any guards around. Small blessings. The huge crush of crowds made it difficult to sneak through though, unless I wanted to run on people’s heads.

Which... was a valid option thinking about it. I had the speed and dexterity to just run over people like that, stepping from shoulder to head. They’d barely notice I was there, and I could whip through the crowds in a moment.

Huh.

I felt like I was relying a little too much on my invisibility these days, but I just didn’t have a team backing me up. We couldn’t make elaborate schemes where I hid in a barrel inside a wagon, or anything like that.

The idea made me want to facepalm.

I didn’t have to hide in a barrel... I could just hide under a wagon instead.

Hmmmm.

Between the two ideas, I wanted to run on people. I’d never done it before, and my stats were finally at a point where I might be able to get away with it. I didn’t have anything against working on becoming sneakier, but this was my first chance to do something really cool and new.

I activated the anti-friction runes on my skin, making it so I’d slip through the air and not make a breeze. With glowing confirmation that they were working, I cloaked myself with a drawn rune, then approached the camp at a dead run.

I ducked and weaved through the crowd, the press of people not yet thick enough that I needed to do something about it. Then, when three soldiers, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, blocked the path with their drunken stumbling, I leapt almost straight up. One foot delicately landed on an arm as I scanned the crowd in an instant.

Wow. Being able to see over a crowd was great! Was this what it was like being tall?

I rapidly [Identified] a dozen potential landing spots, then delicately pushed off, half-floating to my next perch. From person after person, stand to head, shoulder to ground, I bounded like a nimble bunny hopping over a field, barely a whisper left in my wake.

It was thrilling. It was terrifying.

I was ‘only’ level 580, without a Sound or Mirage class, and I could move utterly unnoticed? How many powerful Classers were watching me now, giggling at my antics? How far up did the layers extend?

Could the dragon see me through the two eyes bright in the sky? Did the baleful crimson glare reveal all to the stygian deceiver? If I wanted to keep something truly secret from her, would I need to wait for a night with no moons?

The apples weren’t quite isolated, and it almost felt like good practice. Each step I took, each move I made, I needed to quickly evaluate the people around me, see if I could tell if anyone had recently eaten an apple or not, and shift my path appropriately.

I had felt like I was stagnating. Soldiering wasn’t exactly pushing my abilities to their limit. This outing was a solid stretch of my skills, a strong refresher. A good way to stretch my legs.

I dropped by my destination.

Not the mangos. Those were for later. A treat, a reward for a job well done.

I stopped by the seamstress and sniffed the air, my nose wrinkling at all the smells.

I had super senses, but it didn’t mean I was an expert at using them. There were so many harsh smells in the air in the first place, and so many people moving through, that teasing out exactly the right scent was difficult, to say the least.

I managed it, but following the trail and jumping on shoulders and stalls while following the scent was beyond my skillset.

I growled with frustration. Fine! I wasn’t so proud that I couldn’t accept a small loss like that, weighed against everything else.

I removed my invisibility in a huff. I didn’t need to be all sneaky to try and... legally purchase mangos from someone selling them, unlike Operation: Tunic Retrieval.

I’d get that bastard another time. With interest.Usurious interest.

I followed my nose and was devastated to find that the mango stall WAS CLOSED FOR THE NIGHT!

NO!

My mangos! My precious, life-giving mangos! Cruelly trapped behind a sign saying ‘Closed’! Who would do such a thing!? What devious thoughts went through such a twisted mind!?

The inhumanity!

[Rapid Reshelving] to the rescue!! A generous portion of coins placed in exchange for a few slices of dried mango would make the sadist’s morning, and I had the most holy of treats, the nectar of life, the raison d'etre.

I was no [Greedy Guts Mango Merchant That Unreasonably Closes Their Stall At Night], no. I was a kind and generous soul, one willing to share my bounty with others!

I got out of the camp as quickly as reasonably possible without running into any more apple problems, nor moving so quickly that I was obviously a Classer of some sort.

Signaling Auri was hard. The Sixth built their walls high and didn’t allow nearby structures to peer into our camp. Great for stopping spies, scouts, and rogue mages throwing rocks at people, less great for me sending a message to Auri.

I managed it, and the two of us slipped away to the woods to enjoy the bounty together. The timing was fortuitous in many ways.

“Happy Birthday, Auri.” I told my friend as I hand-fed her mango slices. We were up in a tree together, like a bird and a demented mango-squirrel.

“Brrrrrrrpt!!” Auri ignored the mango, taking the time to fly all over me, pecking at me, running her beak through my hair, and giving me a full body inspection to make sure everything was okay.

I sniffed and hugged my tiny friend.

“You’re going to make me cry.” I lied - the tears were already rolling. “I missed you too.”

In a tree together, beneath the light of the Dragoneye Moons, we shared a mango.