Chapter Fifty-Six: Hypotheticals

Chapter Fifty-Six: Hypotheticals

Tom and Val left the next day.

They shared one last breakfast with his mother in her cosy cottage kitchen. Both of them thanked her profusely, which she accepted gracefully. She seemed genuinely happy to have a purpose, to be making a difference, helping. She was animated, and Tom could barely remember the last time hed seen her like that. It was like night and day, comparing her now with the suffocated, subdued form his father had slowly crushed her into. He was glad for her. She was shining.

They made their way into the square to resupply before heading out. Most of the villagers knew Tom by now, even if just in passing, and due to him having the spatial storage skill, Val had him do most of the purchasing while she went and to have a last minute talk with Officer Dale.

The Lord General hadnt stayed long, the day before. He had lingered just long enough to get a full, in-person report, and to pass on orders, before heading off again. The word needed to be spread, and the other villages prepared. He was a man that looked like he could shatter a mountain with a hammer blow, which was lucky. He had a mountain of work ahead of him.

Tom spent the better part of an hour buying everything they needed. He enquired after honey with the baker, who gave him a raised eyebrow at the quantity he mentioned.

He wanted all of it. All of the honey in the village.

The baker was more than happy to supply him with his own stock, and sent his apprentice running to the town hall to see if they had more. He had a soft spot for Sesame. Most of the villagers did, by this point. They had learned he was not so fearsome as he looked, and now everywhere the bear went, he was dogged by a swarm of village children.

He bore it with great equanimity, even when they clambered up his sides using fistfulls of his thick fur. More than a few of them turned out to say goodbye to him. Sesame gave each a solid lick on the face, sending them screaming with mixed revulsion and glee.

When he had bought out the village of honey, and extricated Sesame from a pile of rambunctious children, Tom made his way to the barracks. He found Rosa just about to start her daily trips to the wall. They spoke some quiet words, uncharacteristically soft, for Rosa, and shared a kiss.

The stolen moment was interrupted by a wolf whistle.

They broke apart, both a little sheepish, in the way of young love, to find Val and Dale appraising them from the barrack hallway to his office. Vals smile was threatening to turn her face inside out. Dale looked mildly amused.

Bout time Tom! Finally found something nice for her, did you? she hollered at them, completely shameless.

Tom felt like hed been struck over the head. That was what all this nice talk had been about? He was an idiot. He thought it was a training exercise. Knowing Val it was most likely both. He felt his cheeks burning.

Sorry, sir, Rosa stammered. I

No need to worry, soldier. Cant say I blame you, if Im being honest. A silent, mysterious exile, returning from putting their life on the line? A hero? And a good looking one too? Im surprised it took you this long to snap him up, Dale said.

Rosas mouth worked silently, and red crept up her neck. She looked like she wanted to implode into a tiny little ball, and explode with righteous fury at the same time. She was speechless. It was a deeply satisfying expression on her.

She noticed Toms satisfaction, rounded on him, and jabbed her finger in his face. She opened her mouth again, but a sharp snort from Val snapped her attention. She cut her losses and whisked out the door, head high.

Hope you know what youre getting into, son. Theres no fury in the Deep like hers, I reckon.

If he stayed in the Deep, it would change. The orcs were an apex predator, and given another year, would have driven many other monsters further afield. He would have far more cause for a weapon that was good for fighting orcs, rather than creatures with supernaturally tough hide.

Promise me something, Tom. Something in her voice jolted him out of his thoughts, made him look up. Val held his gaze in an iron grip.

Okay, he said, hesitantly.

If things turn out bad, here. Dont stay. Theres a big world out there, places where they dont care what Ideals you have. Cities that would be glad to have you. She paused. If things go bad, get out. Promise me.

I won-

Tom. she said forcefully. Im trying to tell you something here. I know you wont leave me, or your mother, or young Miss Raventos. I know that. Im trying to say that if things go bad, you wont throw your life away. Promise me.

Okay. I promise, he said, even though the thought of things going that bad, of Val and his mother and Rosa dying, was utterly unbearable. He would ensure it didnt happen. It would not get to that point.

Good, she said, seeing he was serious. Good. Lets hope it doesnt come to that.

As Tom went to sleep that night, his head was filled with far less happy thoughts. His mind was a churning mess. Eventually, he took control. He would not allow any harm to come to his loved ones. If that meant he had to slaughter orcs wholesale, he would do it.

There must be some way to win. Humanity had done it before, after all. There were so many uncertainties, though.

They had leaders who were keeping them in line. Tom doubted the fragile cohesion of the orcs would survive their leadership being decapitated. Could that be an option? He wasnt sure. They would still have Goddess knows how many Idealist orcs to throw at them.

How strong were these Idealist orcs? The one hed fought had only shown two skills, and didnt seem much stronger than a human Idealist, though it had been silenced for most of their brief fight.

Was there any way to identify the Idealists? Tom supposed he could do it with Hunter-Gatherer, if he got close enough to them. He was no assassin though. Maybe the Watch could neutralise them? He had no idea how many watchmen there actually were in Wayrest, whether they would be enough to make a significant difference.

Maybe some of the orcs had similar skillsets to a watchman, too. That thought put a shiver down his spine. He followed that tangent. The great enchanted walls of Wayrest had never fallen. They had never been breached. But could the orcs potentially just circumvent them completely, just like the Lord was planning to do?

He thought of the Siege Sage, the Idealist with the outrageous surge skills that supposedly had the power to knock a hole in the walls. What if the orcs have surge skills? They likely do. There were still nowhere near as many orcs in this infestation as humans in Wayrest, but if they kept breeding at the rate they were going, one of them would manifest a surge skill strong enough.

Previously, Idealists had been able to kill orcs in swathes. Where the average orc was bigger and stronger than the average human, their Ideals had made up the difference. The orcs prodigious breeding rate was the concerning factor.

But now? A Flawless Idealist could mow down hundreds of orcs with peak tier skills, but what if they had healers? Defensive skills? Goddess, what if they had enchantments? An orcish version of Scriber was the last thing humanity needed.

There were too many unknowns. Too many ifs and buts. And the orcs were massing. Soon, they would be ready.

The only question was, how long did they have?