Chapter 102: Mundane

Chapter 102: Mundane

The atmosphere within the village was oppressive and dour. Men, women and children sat or stood in groups, some trying to move their stolen belongings back into their ransacked homes with others staring blankly into space. As the tension slowly broke many of the villagers broke down with it, outpourings of emotions were a common sight.

Of the nearly thirty bandits who had attacked the village, well over half had been killed. The survivors were tightly bound in makeshift ropes of wood within a building adjacent to the village square, their mouths were gagged and their weapons taken elsewhere. A different suite of emotions was radiating off them, defeat, anger, despair. The punishment for these men would be, according to common law, execution.

Leif wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It was obvious the moment he and his travelling companions had laid eyes on the village that these men were beyond redemption, at least he could comfort himself that he gave them a chance to surrender. Bodies were carried past, the corpses belonging to three villagers that had put up a struggle in one of the outer houses. Olav strode up to him, brow furrowed, fingers restlessly tapping the pommel of his sheathed sword.

“Not the battle you wanted?” Leif asked.

“There is nothing about victory to be ashamed of!” Olav replied, his frown being replaced by a grin. “But yes, there is no glory in putting down dogs.”

At least this village had people still in it. Leif mused, scanning his surroundings once again. His real face was hidden under the wooden mask he wore, it had been a suggestion given half jokingly by some of the children back at Far-Reach, and the scion appreciated the humour behind it. As it was, villagers gave him wary, but grateful glances. He had no doubt their reaction would have been considerably different if he had walked in undisguised.

Chatter came from nearby, Leif and Olav turned to see Liv and Samil walking towards them.

“I don’t think any of them escaped.” Liv said, stretching with arms over her head. The movement making the quiver and bow slung over her back almost slide free. “Samil got the big bad boss after he teleported away.”

The man in question rolled his eyes, neatly stepping away from a playful elbow to the ribs Liv tried to catch him with. “I don’t know what skill he used, but I doubt he would have teleported next to me if he had a choice.”

“You should have seen the battle.” Liv said, sighing dramatically. “Truly an expert display of skill and power, stories will be told of their duel for centuries to come.”

“He killed himself by attacking an illusion and not dodging the reflected damage.” The man said, expression flat. Samil looked around at the distraught and vacant villagers. “And I don’t think this place is in any condition to sell us supplies. We’ll have to go further south.”

Two weeks ago when Leif had left Far-Reach. He had intended to go alone. But the nomad clan needed several things if they were to settle down for an extended period of time, and they didn’t have the capability to craft what they needed. The scion was grateful for the company, doubly so now that he had found himself facing the worst of humanity.

Singing started up nearby, a group of haggard looking men and women sitting around a man dressed in strange looking robes. The robe wearing man looked just as rattled, if not more so than those around him, but nonetheless he led them in song. It was a slow, sombre melody, simple in its lyrics but resonant with its emotions.

“Catchy.” Olav said, humming along. The man’s left foot tapping along, completely out of sync with the song.

“We need to help these people however we can.” Leif said, feeling the grief and hopelessness swirling in the air all around him. “We’ll take the bandits off their hands too, take them to a larger settlement to see justice.”

The three demikin all nodded. “Want to come hunting with me?” Liv asked. “I think fresh meat will do these people well.” Olav nodded along happily, but Samil remained in place, eyes glued to the nearby serenade. “Oh come on.” Liv huffed, shaking her head as if in despair. “That was nice, I was being nice!”

A faint smile touched Samil’s face, but it was gone a moment later. “You’ll be faster without me, I can do more good here.” Olav just blinked guilelessly, and Liv pouted dramatically.

“Fine~ See you later.”

Leif turned to the last person in line, it was the man Leif had initially pegged as an outsider, or an official of some sort due to his robes. But he was a priest, a fact that had become immediately apparent the moment they had had a conversation earlier that day.

“System’s blessings.” The man, Nazan said as he dipped his head in a respectful nod.

“Priest.” Leif said, nodding back. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, no more than you already have. Any who use the powers that they have been gifted to do good have already done more than enough.”

Leif wasn’t sure ‘gifted’ was the correct term to use, but he chose to not comment. Samil’s advice had been to avoid the preacher as much as possible, but at no point had Leif detected ill intentions towards himself or any of the townsfolk from the man.

“Regardless, on behalf of the people of this village, I must profusely thank you and your companions.” Nazan said, taking a seat beside the disguised monster. “Times have been beyond difficult for the people of the frontier, it’s been like this ever since the war, but the undead and the monster migrations they caused were too much for many communities to handle.”

“Were the undead not the primary issue? I would have thought people would have fled further south to avoid them?”

“They were for the first few months, but the guilds working alongside the imperial contingent from Ahle-ho created outposts that lured the undead away from the settlements. The problem was that the crops withered, sources of water became tainted and livestock became sick. There were still the occasional attacks from small groups of undead, but they weren’t overly common”

“Well, the undead won’t be a problem going forward, that issue has been solved.”

The priest’s eyes went wide, the man mumbling a series of prayers under his breath. “That is... that is wonderful news. System and gods willing, maybe the people here will be able to lead better lives.”

Leif tilted his head. “So you’re not a local?”

“No, no, not at all. I’m from Jursa.”

“Jursa?”

“Ah- It’s an imperial province, east of Cerres and flanked by the Salt-ridge mountains. Are you not from the empire then?”

The question seemed innocent, but Leif winced internally. Better not stray far from the truth. “No... I’m from Varan.”

The priest seemed to let out a short sigh. “Oh, that's good, great, I mean it wouldn’t matter, doesn’t matter. Though they are kind of close... geographically speaking.” He clapped his hands together. “Anyway, I passed through the kingdom on my pilgrimage. I'm glad they sent soldiers and adventurers to help push back the western frontier, you do your kingdom proud by coming this far west. It may just be a part of life, but humanity has lost so much in recent history.”

“Yes.” Leif said. “So we have.”