Chapter 303

Chapter 303

I scanned it through a pair of binoculars I'd bummed off a scout, lying prone at the ledge that led to a steep descent downward, scanning the structure. Wooden stakes carved from tree trunks formed high walls, thankfully not so high that they obscured our elevated view.

What was visible was grim regardless. Hobgoblins — the goblin's meaner, smarter cousin. Excepting a few loin-clothed, malnourished variants that seemed to be of a lower caste, they were all either fully or partially armored, and the weapons I could see were of decent quality. It was, by an order of magnitude, the largest group of monsters I'd ever seen in one place. Five hundred give or take, though the real headcount was difficult to establish as they appeared to be sleeping in shifts, numbers obscured by the large barrack tents. There was a considerable armory, a forge, even a mess hall.

Beyond the numbers, there were two massive problems. Separated from the rest of the camp was a small defended square that housed eight catapults. Their payloads were nothing special, judging from awkward mounds of "ammo" — they were using ordinary chunks of rock. Somehow — despite the considerable noise this many people made — the hobgoblins were still completely unaware of our presence, and the catapults weren't pointed at the mountain. But the artillery weapons were on wheels, and we were absolutely in range.

Not good.

The second, arguably bigger problem, were the prisoners housed in various cages scattered around the camp.

Nearby, Aaron and Tyler were arguing.

"Relax," Aaron insisted, dismissing some point Tyler brought up. "We have elevation, and enough firepower with all the mages to level a building. It'll be bloodless on our side. Just bomb the hell out of them and wash our hands of it."

"They have hostages," Tyler fired back.

"No one's been this high in the tower before. And even if someone has, look at them all. They're obviously system-created entities, strategically placed to stop us from taking the obvious solution."

"Hearing this?" I murmured to Miles, who was doing the same thing I was a few feet away with an expensive-looking rangefinder.

"Every word," Miles replied.

"Got info. But it's more likely to hurt us than help us."

Casually, Miles shimmied sideways until he was close enough to whisper, resting prone beside me. "What's up?"

I hesitated, not sure whether to share what I was about to. "I've seen this setup before."

"The hobgoblins?"

I shook my head. "The hostages. Found my way into a dungeon once with a small group, shortly after I got the class. Owlbears. Had a human hostage in a cage. We were the first ones in, according to the system notification, so I came to the same conclusion Aaron did."

"Fake human, generated by the system to create an additional obstacle. Reasonable conclusion to come to."

I hesitated.

"Aw, fuck." Miles stared down at the camp. "How'd you figure it out?"

"Vitiligo."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nick hold the crab up, peering at it intently before placing it down on the ground, where it blended perfectly with the grass.

My pulse spiked.

Now?!

"Much as I appreciate you bringing this to my attention," Tyler rubbed his head, "it changes things. We can't blindly fire into the camp without risking innocent lives. There's no approach with cover of any kind, and they have braziers scattered around the meadow, so stealth is out of the question. Even if we descend down the back of the mountain and circle around, they'll see us coming, and the catapults will do the rest."

"What about the people?"

Heads snapped around, the tone and authority in the voice immediately striking. As far as I could tell, Nick wasn't doing anything differently. He was standing casually, one foot slightly in front of the other, gauntlets resting on his belt.

"The situation is tragic..." Tyler said, scanning Nick up and down uncertainly. "But we can't help them without putting our own in serious peril."

Nick chuckled, running gloved fingers through his hair. "Guess I'm just confused. I'm not the brightest guy in the world. Or the dome. Sometimes things that should make sense to me, don't. So help me out a little. If we're right, and those people down there have been stuck in cages since this all started, they've probably suffered a lot. I've been held against my will before. It was a picnic compared to what the folks down there are going through, and I'll still never forget it. Guess I'm wondering, if the assembled force of two of the strongest guilds in the dome aren't going to save those people... who is?" The challenge in his voice rang, clear as day.

Tyler glared, swatting at his eyepatch. "You would understand better if you bothered to listen." Beside him, Aaron slowly began to smile.

Nick shrugged. "Happy to get my ears checked after, but I'm pretty sure I heard the catapults and elevated firing positions were the biggest problems, no?"

"Well... yes," Tyler admitted.

"And if they weren't a problem, you'd feel more comfortable swinging that sword around."

"There's a difference between comfort and knowing I'm not marching the people I'm directly responsible for to their deaths," Tyler countered, off-balance, starting to sense the powder keg but not fully grasping what it was yet.

"Then I've only got one thing left to say to you." Nick leaned forward.

Here it comes.

I dropped into a crouch, mimicking adjusting my boot.

There was a blur as Talia darted away, sprinting from Nick's side towards the twin mages.

"For Frodo," Nick said, letting it hang for maximal confusion.

Just as Tyler had recovered enough to speak, Nick turned and took off running at a dead sprint, directly towards the ledge.