Chapter 5:

The Old Decurion's Status

Zhurek began the meeting as usual by counting the loot each Decurion had acquired. He made special mention of me but didn't forget to recall past missions where my successes were quite pitiful compared to the others. But this didn't provoke the same flash of anger in my soul as it used to. And for some reason, I no longer had such a strong desire to tear out his long tongue.

"And now I'd like to hear an explanation from Decurion Irchin himself as to how he managed to see the invisible, as silly as that may sound. And please, think carefully about your answer, because I won't hide my apprehension regarding this situation. While I'm glad that you alone acquired more loot on this mission than our entire company, I can't ignore the terrifying reports from the soldiers. All your warriors—and I'll specify, not only my spies sent with you but everyone without exception—have told horrific stories. Each one is more frightening than the last. And even our highly respected Mage Leur cannot understand how an invisible creature can be detected without a special skill," at Zhurek's words, Leur averted his eyes from his Decurion and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible; apparently, his report contained more than just this information.

"Esteemed Lurion Zhurek, honored Decurions, and noble Mages, you all know me well. I have served in our Lord's army for more than thirty years, which is twice as old as some of those sitting at this table," everyone turned their heads to the young goblin mage, 15 years old, from the second squad. A goblin of 15 was considered quite adult and experienced, as representatives of my race reached their maximum size at age 10 and, in principle, stopped growing both physically and intellectually.

"And you all know," I pointed my hand at Zhurek, "especially you, sir Lurion, that there are innate abilities that are not displayed by the System. This is precisely my case. I can sense a gaze directed at me. And if someone is staring at my back, drooling with bloodlust, and not just for a moment, but for a solid ten minutes, I can pinpoint the location of more than just an invisible creature. Skills from the System are all well and good, but you still have to know how to use them." After my words, everyone relaxed a bit; apparently, the soldiers had been spreading some truly incredible tales in the camp.

"Well, I think we've satisfied the curiosity surrounding our chief provider, so I propose we check the search zones one more time, and the squads can set out," Zhurek said.

"I beg your pardon," I interrupted the Lurion, "but I have bad news. We'll have to change our plans."

Everyone stared with a lack of understanding in their eyes, and Zhurek, in particular, with a hidden hatred, because my words sounded like an unambiguous order. But no one tried to interrupt.

"Yesterday, before its death, the Arachnid Defender clearly said that the spiders would return from the depths of the tunnels a couple of days early. Also, the presence of a Guardian so close to the surface tells us a lot," the young mage, whose snot-nosed age I had so ironically pointed out recently, couldn't hold back and interrupted me first.

"What's with all this cowardly talk? If you're afraid to poke your nose out of the camp after a minor skirmish, then don't invent fairy tales!" he shouted unrestrainedly, even jumping up from his chair.

Tatalem So had only recently been assigned to the 7th company and hadn't fully absorbed our traditions. For this reason, everyone froze, and the remaining four mages even paled when they heard the tone the young wizard used.

Tatalem So was a close relative of some aristocrat from the border city of the Northern Wastes and apparently considered himself a true, untouchable aristocrat, as he even had a second name from birth. But he was deeply mistaken.

A swift strike with a short sword and the unrestrained goblin's throat acquired an extra hole. Yes, his throat, but without hitting the artery. Filigree precision and speed. Only the Decurions and Zhurek managed to even notice the movement.

I slowly got up and walked over to the young mage writhing on the floor. He tried to cover the wound with his hands. Attempts to speak only resulted in raspy gasps tearing from his severed throat. Blood profusely soaked his hands, and his expensive traveling suit was ruined in just a few moments. He lacked the experience to even apply a healing spell to himself. His eyes were filled with primal fear and horror, and a lack of understanding of what was happening. No one was saving him, even though mages were the most valuable specialists in the army. Thousands of SP had been invested in their training. But when Tatalem So realized that the approaching old man Irchin the Malicious was going to finish him off, he fell into an insane panic, writhing like a dead snake with its head cut off. A swift swipe, and a piece of his right ear flew to the side.

"Now you can apply your healing spells, just once, only to stop the blood. What kind of a mage can't even heal himself?" I said, returning to my seat, carelessly clutching the piece of Tatalem So's ear.

Three consecutive flashes from spells, and the young mage stopped his senseless twitching on the floor.

"Guards!" Zhurek shouted in a raspy voice, and when two goblins looked into the tent, he added, "Take Mister Tatalem So to his tent; he suddenly took ill." The guards, burly fellows, with an Agility attribute of probably no less than 8 points each, easily lifted the unconscious mage and dragged him away from the officer's tent. As soon as they left, Zhurek the Slippery continued as if nothing had happened. As if the incident wasn't even worth mentioning. And this made the remaining people even more uncomfortable.

"This is not a sufficient reason to return from the search three days early. The Centurion, or even the Miliurion himself, may be displeased. Decurion Irchin, you must realize that this could cost us all dearly. They might even deprive us of all our earnings from this mission."

All the Decurions became serious, as each of them had plans for the SP from this assignment.

And only the remaining mages sat with pale faces and thought about something entirely different. Specifically, why this madman was being let off for attacking a mage, and how he dared to give them orders. An old Decurion who had achieved nothing in his wretched life. But judging by the reaction of the senior officer, Zhurek, he fully supported the malicious old man. And yet, such rumors had been circulating before. As if the old Decurion Irchin had never tolerated insolence directed at him. And even more so, words about his cowardice.

And he almost killed the young wizard, Leur thought. The weapon was from the System, after all. Was he not afraid that the Centurion would punish him? Or were the drunken tales in the taverns also true, and our Centurion Otsev valued this old man immensely? Or maybe the truth was something else entirely.

He had no family, no valuable property, no house that would bring him income. There was nothing to take from him. Killing an old, experienced warrior would only be more trouble than it was worth; it was unclear how many thugs you'd need to hire to be absolutely sure they could handle him. Ten, fifteen, or better yet, twenty. Yes, it turned out he had no weak spots. And even if you did kill him, Centurion Otsev was also a very cruel hobgoblin; he might not forgive the loss of a capable junior officer.

But what horrified Leur even more was the fact that he hadn't seen the strike. A blurry movement and blood began to gush from Tatalem So's throat. And yet, the Decurion's level was lower than mine, as were his attributes, of course. And the violation of these immutable truths was far more frightening than the sight of Tatalem So's fresh blood on the floor of the council room.

I waited for the officers to consider my words, as well as the prospects of punishment, and look at me again.

"Of course, losing our percentage would be unpleasant. But think a little about the other side of the issue. Understand what I'm telling you. And what I'm telling you is that an army of arachnids will emerge on the surface two days early. An army. Not these small F-rank bugs that our Centurion can mow down by the hundreds, or even thousands, with his technological weapon. I'm talking about an army led by monsters like the C-rank Swarm Queen. And we will be the first to be hit, and to be honest, probably only the Centurions and our Miliurion will survive."

"Wait, wait," Zhurek began, but I raised my hand and stopped him, not letting him speak.

"Now, think about this: we return to camp and report the information we've acquired. Whether they believe us or not will no longer matter. First, they won't send us back, as it would be a pointless waste of time; we won't have time to set up camp again. Second, our loot is one of the best in the entire regiment, so no one can fault us for a poorly executed job. And third, when it turns out I was right, Miliurion Tarak the Bloody will reward the officers for every saved warrior. After all, he is always generous, especially to the best providers."

Everyone thought again, but now their faces showed not only doubt but also looks of avarice. But Zhurek the Slippery was hesitant; it was clear he didn't want to lose the SP he already considered his by right. He clearly had some plans for it. Seeing his hesitation, I lazily, as if reluctantly, added:

"But the reward is not the main thing; your own hide is always more important, and right now I feel a great deal of anxiety. Lurion Zhurek, just like that time," I said, looking coldly into his eyes, "Remember when I was wrong."

Chapter 5.1

And Zhurek Remembered.

It was a world of cold and cursed Frost Monkeys. All that could be said about that place was snow, cold, and despair. We were assaulting the villages of these savages. But these beasts were all about one and a half times larger than goblins.

But the problem was not in the strength of these monkeys, but in the endless cold that chilled you to the bone. Neither fires nor warm hides could warm us. Only the 5th, 6th, and our 7th company were sent to this world.

The Miliurion decided that the task was too simple, and we could easily handle it, even with such a small number. At first, it was. We burned the first and second villages without a hitch, but to be honest, each one had at most a hundred low-level Frost Monkeys. But in the very next settlement, we encountered a full-fledged, battle-hardened band and suffered our first serious losses. And this was only halfway there, as our Miliurion Tarak the Bloody intended to open a portal at a pre-arranged place and time.

Before the assault on a small stockade, near the fourth village, Irchin the Malicious also spoke at the general meeting and warned that he felt a great deal of anxiety. The two Centurions and almost all the Decurions laughed out loud. They called him all sorts of names; of course, only the Centurions could afford such a thing. The Decurions were simply too afraid to make such a fatal mistake. Junior officer Irchin already had a very specific and even frightening reputation and a fairly large collection of ears and fingers from his enemies.

But our Centurion Otsev still drew some conclusions for himself personally. And later, for his company, he chose a more inconvenient direction for the assault on the stockade, but as it turned out, he was not wrong. Because after that assault, the fifth and sixth companies had to be re-formed from scratch.

When they broke through the main walls, a shaman of the Frost Monkeys used a System artifact that came from who-knows-where. And for a moment, the temperature inside the stockade dropped by several orders of magnitude. Perhaps in any other world, this artifact would not have had such combat potential. But in a world where water, in principle, did not want to remain in a liquid state, it turned into an ultimate weapon of mass destruction and destroyed two companies of goblins in a single instant. They simply froze; all the liquid in their bodies instantly turned to ice. Surely some could have been saved with healing magic, but only two Centurions survived the strike, and they didn't escape without damage to their health.

But the Frost Monkeys endured the strike quite well and overwhelmed both commanders with sheer numbers. At that moment, our company was having a difficult time climbing the walls protecting the stockade, and most of the soldiers were still outside the artifact's radius of effect. Including Centurion Otsev. Decurion Irchin and I were already on the wall, and at the moment when the ripple of the spell began, he seemed to feel it and jumped off the wall. And he did one more small thing at that very moment. Irchin pulled me by the collar, and I flew off the wall with him; almost twenty of my goblins remained on the wall as ice statues. And yet he could have not done that and possibly would have taken my place. He definitely would have. There was no older and more experienced officer in our company, except for Mister Otsev, of course.

Decurion Irchin never reminded me of my debt for my life; it's not customary among goblins. But it's also not customary to save people. But he saved me and did it with such ease, so casually, as if he knew everything in advance.

He looked at the wave of cold—there was no fear on his face, no emotions at all. We fell from a wall ten cubits high—at that moment, his face seemed to even show boredom. This was probably what had irritated me about him all these years.

Old Irchin was not proud that he had saved me. He wasn't even proud that he had saved almost eighty of his brothers-in-arms and Centurion Otsev himself. And his facial expression was like he was just sweeping crumbs off a table.

This hidden arrogance of his did not allow me to be grateful to him, somewhere deep in my soul. And yet, he was already old back then. Mister Otsev rewarded him with a new level for that incident and gifted him a System weapon for his eternal use. And he changed his attitude towards him, forever. He respected Irchin the Malicious, and he still respects this old man for saving his life, unlike me.

I was never able to overcome a certain deep-seated fear of him. As soon as our gazes met. He never meddled with advice, never undermined my authority, but on some instincts, I always tried to needle him about his mistakes. I guess I was just trying to justify myself for not believing him back then.

Zhurek shook his head, driving away the memories, and commanded:

"You have half an hour to get ready, and then we set off. Decurion Irchin's squad will head to Centurion Otsev's main camp. You'll explain everything to him yourself and tell him I gave my permission. But leave my four fighters behind; you've had enough of dragging them around with you."

"Yes, sir, Lurion Zhurek."

Chapter 5.2

Obstacle Course.

Just 10 minutes later, my squad was running toward the main camp. Such important figures as Centurions and our Miliurion almost never leave the fortified camp. Over the years, such powerful figures only become more cautious.

We had to run no less than 20 versts. For half an hour, we moved at a medium pace without any particular problems. Every warrior's Stamina attribute was at a different level. Therefore, for some, it was an easy stroll, but for others, it was a run at the limit of their strength. Running alongside a heavily breathing Leur, I quietly said to him:

"Listen to me carefully and only look straight ahead, understand?" He started to turn his head toward me, and I had to lightly elbow him in the ribs.

"Understood, Decurion, sir," the mage winced but didn't turn his head anymore.

"There have been at least a couple of invisible creatures following us for ten minutes now," another elbow to the ribs, "Don't turn your head, or you won't be carrying it for long."

"Understood, Decurion, sir," he repeated again.

"Up ahead, near the entrance to the manor, you'll pretend you have no strength left to run and stop. You'll loudly demand a break and some rest. I'll refuse, you'll get rude, and in return, you'll get a punch in the gut. You'll fall to the ground and pretend to lose consciousness. After that, pay close attention and wait for my commands."

Leur played his part magnificently. Heavy breathing, stumbling feet, and he spoke the insults with real heart. My warriors, for a moment, thought I would kill him; it was all so believable. And when I ordered them to lift our mage's limp body from the ground and carry him into the nearest manor, they did so in a flash. As soon as we were settled, and the mage was laid on the ground in a more or less suitable room in the ruined building, I whispered:

"Everyone prepare your spears and take cover. Uler and Moresh, stand with your shields a couple of steps away from Leur. Chikir and Raum, go to the center of the room and loudly argue about who had the prettier girl. And may Great Anteros help anyone who moves without my command."

My warriors quickly took their positions. Half hid behind the ruined furniture and were completely invisible from the entrance. Only the scouts standing in the middle of the room were unnaturally holding their conversation.

"If you don't start arguing believably, I'll kill you with my own hands," I hissed maliciously.

Beams of light penetrated through the broken walls, partially illuminating our room. The soldiers stirred up ancient dust, and it was swirling strangely in the air. And on top of the stone floor was a decent layer of caked-on mud, in which our tracks were clearly visible.

Meanwhile, Chikir became so worked up from the fear of being killed twice that he even started to shove the larger Raum in the chest with his fist. This lasted at most five minutes, and then small tracks from an arachnid's paws appeared on the floor in the doorway, all without a single sound. It shifted its weight from one paw to another a couple of times, not daring to enter.

I sat by the wall and was applying bandages to my right forearm, as if checking an old wound. My spear lay across my lap. I felt a fixed gaze on me, and in a moment, paw prints began to appear on the floor. One set was heading toward me, while the second was moving toward Leur.

A step, a second, and they were now fully in the room. For just a moment, the arachnids turned away from me, and the feeling of being watched disappeared. With a movement of my spear practiced thousands of times, simultaneously straightening my body and standing up, I struck upward, slightly at an angle. The spider shrieked, blood spurted, and one leg fell to the ground. The arachnid was still invisible, but from nowhere, pale blood gushed in pulses.

"Attack my target!" I shouted, shifting to the side.

The goblins burst from cover; their spears plunged into the arachnid's body wherever they could, but all four of them, with their combined mass, pushed it against the wall, impaling it even deeper on their spears.

At that moment, the second invisible creature struck the hesitant Raum in the chest, and the goblin didn't even realize how he had died. A precise blow to the heart. On instinct, Chikir, that damned gods' favorite, jumped toward the mage, and Uler took the next hit on his shield. This gave me enough time to strike the second spider in the back, and for Leur to hit the spot where my spear tip had stopped with a lightning bolt. After the magical attack, the invisibility disappeared, and my next swing at the frozen E-rank Arachnid Scout landed squarely on the back of its head, crunching through its skull.

[Notice] You have gained 72 SP. (72/150)

I turned around and saw that Sotop, one of the few veterans in my squad, was lying in a pool of blood with a crushed head. The remaining three goblins, unable to keep the enemy at a distance, threw their spears into the spider's body and jumped back.

The E-rank Arachnid Scout, Level 2. A spider that was too large for its level and overly confident in its abilities stood with a spear pointed in our direction. And even the wounds it had received didn't seem to bother it, although the blood from the stump of its leg had already stopped gushing, which meant its regeneration was simply excellent.

Before I could even think about it, a wave of fire struck from the spider scout's raised palm. I caught a glimpse of my entire squad throwing themselves to the ground, trying to let the attack pass over their heads. I hoped the shield bearers had the sense to cover the mage.

On pure reflex, I lunged toward the wounded creature, covering my face with my right hand and gripping the shaft of my spear more tightly with my left. I don't know why, but I was just sure that an E-rank area spell couldn't, by definition, possess immense power capable of melting stone in an instant.

The first step toward the spider, and my body was engulfed in unbearable heat, but my eyes were closed. I took a second step, and a surprised arachnid head with wide-open eyes appeared right in front of me. The spear continued its movement with my body, and the blow crunched through the creature's eye socket.

[Notice] You have gained 104 SP. (176/150)

[Notice] You have gained Level 16. (26/160)

You have an additional 4 free attribute points available.

I turned around, and everyone was lying on the ground. Chikir was rolling on the floor, trying to put out the flames on his cheap light armor. It's fine, he won't burn up; it'll be a lesson for him not to skimp on gear in the future. After all, everyone spends their hard-earned gold coins to buy decent equipment for a reason.

I leaned down to the dead Sotop and realized that he had died from a random blow from a spider's sharp leg. Just bad luck. It was an incredibly precise blow, landing right at the seam of the steel plates on his helmet. A light poke with my sword into his open palm, as if I were leaning on a cane to get up from my comrade's body.

[Notice] You have gained 20 SP. (46/160)

He couldn't get past Level 10. I couldn't repeat this trick with Raum; his arachnid had drained him with a System weapon. My conscience didn't bother me about collecting SP from my own subordinates; it was already impossible to save him, and I had already saved those I could today. I was only concerned with preserving my secret, and the additional SP would certainly help me with that.

Chapter 5.3

After the Wall of Fire.

When Moresh and Uler stood up and helped me off the floor, I saw him. At first, for a moment, it seemed that a demon from the lowest realms stood before us, but after a moment, my vision cleared a little, and it became clear to me that it was Irchin the Malicious standing with his back to us, and his right hand was engulfed in flames. And he didn't even try to put out the fire.

His voice in the quiet room sounded as if from beyond, dead and cold.

"Leur, check the wounded. Don't be stingy with your mana."

Only after that did he brush the burning bandages from his right hand and exit the room. After recovering a little from what had happened and treating the wounds of everyone in the squad, we tried to process what had happened in our heads. The young Chikir was the first to give in and whispered:

"Mister Leur, is this even normal? Our Decurion throws us around like bait against incredibly dangerous spiders. Two of our men are dead. It's like he's deliberately leading us into traps with the arachnids..."

Moresh, unable to endure this tirade, gave the young scout a good, heartfelt blow to the ribs, and he fell and gasped, unable to breathe.

"Shut your trap, you stunted runt! You're alive, and so are we, only thanks to Mister Irchin. Besides him, no one in our squad could have stood up to the invisible creatures. They would have easily killed us one by one, and you wouldn't have even had time to squeak. The arachnids were just waiting for us to get more tired. And then we definitely wouldn't have been able to oppose them."

The warriors were still whispering about something among themselves, but my head was occupied with only one thought: could old Irchin be right and the arachnids would return early? He's not a prophet, is he? What is even happening?

This world was considered one of the safest among goblins. All the strong arachnid individuals, every single one of them, descend into the depths every year during their breeding season, and these time frames have not changed, as far as I know, since the fall of their race.

What could have happened to make these creatures start returning earlier than scheduled?