The Primal Pack moved through Havenwood like a ghost, and its rider like a vengeful wraith. Reidar rode on its back, filled with the sa cold anger that made him snap at Lena.
The usual sounds of a settlent—the clang of a hamr, kids laughing sowhere, people talking low—felt wrong next to the rage building inside him.
He found Martin at the ranger station, bent over a large map spread across a table.
The man glanced up as Reidar stepped inside, his tired expression shifting to a welco, then dissolving the instant he saw Reidar’s glare. Martin wasn’t stupid; he figured out sothing was wrong.
"I’m leaving." Reidar didn’t wait for a response. "But before I go, you’re going to tell why nearly a hundred people tried to kill in that forest. And you’re going to stop lying."
Martin’s face hardened, the lines around his eyes deepening.
"You lied to . The monster hordes attacking this settlent, the constant state of siege, you let believe it was random, that there was a nest that needed food and happened here by chance at the beginning, a new feature of this broken world."
He paused. "But it’s not, is it? Soone is sending them. Jorik and Torren already told it’s people, and I got proof on my way here since we were ambushed, and I was the target." He took a step closer, the anger he’d suppressed for hours, finally boiling over.
"You sent on that quest with your best fighters to spy on at best, and to get invested in Havenwood at worse, so I’d turn my summons on your human enemies. You tried to manipulate into being your weapon."
Martin stayed silent for a long mont, just staring back at Reidar. The silence in that little room got so heavy it felt like it could crack.
Then he gave a slow nod. "It’s true," he said. "I did. I’m not going to lie about it."
He sighed. "But I had my reasons. Good reasons. This war, whatever it is, Havenwood didn’t start it. We’re just trying to survive it."
"I don’t care who started this, Martin. You had no right to lure to help you by using deception. You had no right to make beco a target."
Martin said nothing, but it was clear sothing was going on in his mind. If it was regret for having done what he did or having been found out, by not predicting the enemy would know about him, Reidar couldn’t know.
"Jorik and Torren told ," Reidar said. "They told about the Church of Unbinding. So tell , Martin, if they’re your enemy, why is Caleb still preaching his poison right in the middle of your settlent?"
Martin’s composure finally broke. He slamd a fist on the table. "Because we have no proof!" he said. He gave Reidar a look that said more than words could.
"You think I haven’t considered it? Of course I have! But Jorik and Torren’s words are just that, assumptions! The Church isn’t the only group out there. And almost half of my people attend Caleb’s sermons! Should I have torn this settlent apart with a witch hunt based on a gut feeling? Do I start a civil war inside these walls while we’re being attacked from the outside?"
He took a ragged breath; the anger drained away to reveal the desperation he was feeling. He actually never wanted to be the leader, but the people turned to him with that expectation, and he would for sure do what he could to ensure their needs were t.
He looked at Reidar with pleading eyes. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice dropping low. "For lying, for all of it. But you can’t bla . I needed to know if you were a spy, and I needed your help. I swear, if I had to, I’d do it again. I needed to check if you were a spy, because if you weren’t, you could have changed the tide!"
Martin leaned forward, his hands flat on the table. "You said you were attacked. Tell , what level were they? The ones who ambushed you?"
Reidar remained silent because he understood what Martin’s point was.
"Exactly," Martin said. "Levels in the high thirties. Ten levels higher than my average fighter. Now tell , what chance do we have against an army like that without you?"
"You have Lena," Reidar shot back. "You have her team. They’re level fifty, and we wiped those guys easily."
"And you think our enemy doesn’t have champions of their own?" Martin’s laugh was harsh and devoid of humor.
"They have leaders, Reidar. People who are coordinating these attacks, herding monsters like cattle. People who are probably stronger than Lena, stronger than her entire team combined." He t Reidar’s gaze, his own filled with a chilling certainty. "Maybe even stronger than you."
Reidar’s confidence, built up by his levels, and his army of summons, suddenly wavered.
Martin saw the opportunity and seized it. "Please," he implored, his voice dropping again, thick with the desperation of a man out of options.
"Just one more quest. Just one more help. The second quest I gave you, the Sunken Turbine. It’s not just about getting the power back on. It’s the last quest we need to complete in order for us to get the Settlent Creator Token."
Reidar’s breath caught. He knew that already.
"Help us get it. With that token, we can set up a permanent safe zone. The monster-repelling field will protect us from the hordes, from whatever they will send at us. It will give my people a shot. Ti to grow, to train, to stand a real chance." He nodded toward the door.
"After that, you’re free. Go find your family. I won’t hold you back. Just give us sothing to fight with."
Reidar stared at the map, at Havenwood’s small circle surrounded by threats. He rembered the kids, Mara’s tired smile, and Jorik’s grief. His anger faded. This wasn’t his fight, but at that point he was already part of it.
He finally looked up, his gaze hard and uncompromising. "This is the last ti," he said, the words sharp as flint. "I’ll help you get your token. But after it’s done, I don’t want to see your face or Lena’s again. We’re done."
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