024. Crucible - 1
As I walked closer to the camp, I received a better view of the workings of the operation. So details, like the mismatched pieces of armor and damaged weapons, I have already expected to see. So, like the constant verbal battles between different patrol groups, even more intense than I expected, were a surprise.
However, most of my attention was firmly fixed on the way they were fighting. It was unnatural. Even among the patrol teams, there was absolutely no coordination, each battling against a creature, even to the point of occasionally injuring each other.
Yet, that wasn't as interesting as the way they swung their weapons. Everywarrior I could see was for lack of a better word, stiff. So limited themselves to wide, sweeping slashes, while others limited themselves to stabbing movents. For so, it was reasonable, as a spear was rather limited in terms of attack options, but even the ones that were using other weapons, like halberds and great swords, were limited in their attacks.
And, every single one of them had the sa curious habit I had observed back when I had fought against the servants. Every single blow was delivered in ful, with no hesaitation, only to go back to their starting position.
Even at the cost of taking easily avoidable damage. Yes, their wounds healed quickly, but that shouldn't be a reason to take such wounds.
It's such an interesting way to fight.
Since everyone was fighting like that, I chose to limit myself to slashes, delivering full, wide strikes whenever a beast had drifted too close though I made exceptions whenever I would take damage. My Health was depleted enough.
It was hard to notice when the distance between and the camp was asured in miles, but the shorter the distance beca, the more likely for soone to notice the shorter the distance got, the easier for soone to notice that so of my attacks had been cut short.
Luckily, that wasn't the only change. The closer I got to the camp, the less the beasts targeted , attracted by the larger group instead.
"What an interesting world," I muttered as I continued to observe the people, this ti focusing on their physical attributes. On that, their feature of delivering full strikes was useful, giving a rather accurate sense of their Strength and Agility. It wasn't a trivial thing to achieve, especially at a distance, but my Perception, combined with a lifelong habit of asuring others another valuable talent in my old line of work made able to get a reasonable sense.
And, my asurents were enough to confirm that only a few had stats that surpassed , whether in Agility or Strength, and it wasn't hard to see that they lacked in other stats. The strong ones were clumsy, unable to fully recover from their own swings, while agile ones lacked the strength to deliver one-hit kills.
The only ones I couldn't exactly rival were the fast ones who dashed around with an alacrity I couldn't rival. Interestingly, so of them lack both Agility and Strength. From my training, I guessed Speed was the reason for their state.
"Agility is harder to hide than Strength," I decided as I closed in, adjusting my combat capabilities accordingly. I didn't want to hide my Strength forever as well, but until I could get a better feel for it, it was better to be conservative. As I killed the occasional beast that attacked I began to hold back, even if it ant that I had to hit several tis against so of the larger beasts.
No one told anything to or even looked my way for more than a few seconds, which encouraged about my strategy. I knew most wouldn't even call marching across an open field, in plain sight, a strategy.
But for , it was the best way to accomplish my goal. After all, only soone without any bad intentions would just walk into a camp filled with thousands and thousands of people, every single one of them ard.
I walked forward about half way; I was certainly close enough to get their attention. About fifty yards away from , I could see a group of twenty dragging one of the larger beasts larger than an elephant but they didn't even pay attention to .
What a sha.
For a mont, I hoped that it was going to be the extent of what I dealt with.
then I noticed a lone warrior walking towards , his gaze leaving no doubt that I was his target. He was wearing silver armor, the design of it similar to the ones the soldiers back in the flying castle had been wearing though simpler and cheaper, and carried no mark which distinguished him from the crowd that was walking around him.
Though I didn't need to recognize his armor for that, the way the others parted around him was enough.
I suppressed the temptation to start running like a new gang mber might do and instead looked at him. "Hey, you, follow ," he commanded right away, before he started to walk back, his tone brokering no argunt, expecting to be obeyed.
Following him was a good idea, especially since he was confident or reckless enough to turn his back. I had dealt with many kinds of enforcers, both lawful and lawless, and one thing was common. Not one of them was stupid enough to walk recklessly if they weren't confident in their security.
It wasn't the ti to test that.
I walked, fast enough to close the distance, doing my best to copy the slightly worried look of a civilian accosted by a sudden military checkpoint.
Just because his back was turned didn't an that others weren't observing my position.
The armored warrior brought toward the mobile butcher station where everyone had been carrying the carcasses of the beasts. Or more accurately, three hundred yards behind it, towards a smaller, but much fancier tent.
An interesting position for a high-ranking commander to take, I decided. The thick sll of blood and smoke from the bonfire was hardly the most comfortable location. Maybe he was there to make sure there was no theft.
Or maybe not, I corrected myself as I raised my eyes to the skies, and looked at the sky, taking note of the density of the flying beasts. They were densest right on top of the tent, attracted by the butchering operation.
Though, despite the constant killing, I was yet to see anyone leveling up in my imdiate surroundings.
Interesting.
I wondered if I could use this detail to my advantage if things had turned got too dangerous. Maybe I could trigger the level-up and disappear from the confusion. Not to retreat, but to slip into the camp, already trying to find the best path in the camp area..
This was only a last resort, of course. I had no intention to risk myself unless things reached a dangerous point. I continued to follow the group until we stood in front of the tent, where four armored figures were waiting for us. Three more warriors, wearing identical silver armor
And a teenager, barely fifteen by my estimation, wearing an armor that was fancier than Captain had worn back in the flying castle.
It was the teenager who spoke. "Who are you?" he asked, trying to sound serious, though with his age, that only ca across as petulant. Not that it mattered much when that feeling was accompanied by the pressure of Charisma, ordering to obey.
With my current Resilience, ignoring that was trivial. I only paused a mont to take note of the intensity and the shape, to fake a perfect answer.
The first rule of lying; always act how they expect. It was a lesson I had used many tis during my career, especially the tis I was still working as a freelance problem-handler, the permanent kind. A statent to the police about an assassination I 'saw' was much more effective while faking a panic attack.
The pressure he radiated was more similar to Falael's direct orders rather than Toross' weird aura of likable obedience before his weird transformation but the intensity was significantly lower than Falael's iron orders.
Interestingly, the pressure was still stronger than the naless captain could generate.
So, rather than the frustrated yet helpless expression of the soldiers, I wore the slack-jawed expression of the servants whenever they were ordered by Falael.
"My na is Euon, my lord, a retired resident," I said, putting a dazed cadence in my tone as I used the na of the unlucky servant that I had robbed back then.
Since neither the warriors nor the young man looked alard, it seed that my ploy was sufficiently convincing. "And why are you here, alone?" he asked, the pressure lessening as he asked.
"My group had decided to ignore the orders and raid the abandoned settlents until the carts are full, of greedy traitors," I explained. "So I left the group to join the bigger caravans." It seed like the best explanation, as whatever the danger was, it was clearly important enough to trigger widespread evacuation, and the morons that decided to prioritize furniture over safety made a convenient excuse.
"They are ignoring their orders, traitors!" he gasped in shock, the intensity could only be generated by a sheltered youth with little experience. Warriors around him just grunted, but none of them bothered to say anything. "We should go and teach them a lesson! How dare they ignore the orders!"
Just like my questions, that order ca with the weight of Charisma.
The warriors reacted imdiately, each standing straight, their weapons drawn, like they were about to charge forward. "If you wish, my lord," one of them through squeezed teeth after several seconds, pushing himself to the limit to say his words. "But what about our order to defend the camp against stronger beasts," he managed to say.
I didn't say anything, just waiting obediently in front of him, looking at the ground. The pressure was not targeting . Yet, the warrior showed that, it was possible to ignore orders backed by Charisma, at least indirectly.
"You're right," the teenager muttered, and the pressure disappeared. "My father won't like it if I don't complete my mission perfectly," he said as he turned and disappeared into the tent.
I continued to look at the ground, faking a tremble. "What's your class and level," the soldier asked.
"Farr, and level twenty-eight, sir," I answered, just as quickly, but without the hypnotized tone I used earlier. It was a dangerous lie, especially about a class I didn't have, but unless I wanted to admit I was a Hero, my option was to spout one of the classes I heard from the soldiers back when I was gambling.
And since they despised farrs as particularly pathetic, I expected that to bring the least questioning.
"At this age?" muttered one from behind. "Pathetic!"
"Any useful skills," he asked.
I said nothing, as I didn't know the nas of the skills, and didn't want to risk spewing. Instead, I took that as an invitation to display, and pulled my dagger, showing a few slashes, all repeating the sa pattern of fully completed hits.
"Just a slash, sowhere in the interdiate area," the soldier growled dismissively. I nodded.
"Useless, go into the camp and try to find sothing to do," they said, the ntion of my class enough for them to fully dismiss .
Enough to ignore the fact that I had sohow walked from one camp to another without dying
Interesting bias
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