The dining hall was a long wooden building, which served as a free communal buffet.

  It had eight large, long tables that each had 10 seats. When we arrived, most seats were still empty, but the village chief welcomed us, leading us to the northernmost table, where a few people, including the militia leader, were already present.

  We barely had time to exchange greetings before a small commotion erupted, as the children (who sat at a separate table) suddenly stood up, holding their plates, and bolted towards a smaller empty table near the kitchen.

  Just a moment later, two older women came out of a small door near that table, carrying large metal plates filled with steaming, freshly roasted meat, fried potatoes and baked vegetables. Shortly after, they brought new plates filled with fresh salad.

  A few village folk smiled, although such smiles were marred by bitterness. Today was not a joyful day, despite the hearty meal.

  Soon, we too filled our plates. It was a welcome change of pace after the last two days.

  Beyond a few formal greetings, and a couple of casual lines, there was no talk at our table. There were a few murmurs among the other ones, though, which were quickly filling up.

  Some talked about the future of the village, discussing, in whisper, the possibility of the goblins coming back.

  Some, often those whose tables had the most empty seats, ate in silence, with the occasional sobs and words of consolation.

  In the end, we thanked the chief for the meal. As I left, Thomas stayed behind with the chief to discuss something. I didn't pry, instead making my way to the guest house.

  Actually, the building had a small yard, one which I decided to occupy for tonight.

  My sword training has been going well. By now, I was certain I already surpassed the old Sebastian – however, I was obviously light years away from his father. Still, I diligently trained every day, even if I felt my improvement rate slow down.

  It was also my preferred time of the day – hours of tranquility, where my mind would lose itself in the movements of the blade, the balance of my stance, the strain on my muscles…

  Of course, I didn’t neglect my Skills, either. After all, they were still my main offensive options, despite swordsmanship being their foundation.

  I even tried experimenting with [Charge] to run on the wall of the building, but the result was me flying to the side, sliding a few meters on the ground and even scraping the skin on my left hand. I would likely try again, to make this work somehow, but right now, I couldn’t force my creative juices to start flowing.

  After a few hours, I went to take a bath (which I didn't take earlier for this very reason), and finally returned to my temporary room.

  I didn't notice Thomas returning, but perhaps he did, and was now quietly sleeping inside his room. I didn't know what his Path was, but it was definitely something that involved stealth.

  The two final hours of this day were spent recalling Sebastian's memories – I stopped at 26 (still fruitless) meditations sessions this time, as not to have pushed my mind to the same extreme as yesterday.

  I didn't know whether there could be long-term consequences.

  And what's more, I wanted my mind to be clear for what was about to come.

  ***

  “Good luck!”

  “Please, bring them back!”

  “Return Safely!”

  Despite the early hour, darkness still reigning over the gloomy village, there were quite a few people at the stables.

  Besides ‘Big’ Jimmy, who was coming with us, the messenger meant to depart for Pine Harbor, and the chief overseeing it all, there were also a few regular villagers, likely the captives’ relatives, and a few of the militiamen from yesterday.

  Each one had their own words to say – some begged us to return their loved ones, others hoped for the militia leader's safety, and a few simply came to see us off.

  “Let’s go. Hyaa!”

  With a light whip of his reins, he sent Gust into trot, with Cupcake and the gray village horse joining from behind.

  If we continued riding at our current pace, we would be able to reach the midpoint between the two villages in roughly 3 hours. However, there were a few things to consider.

  The main problem were the goblin sentries that would certainly be placed along the way.

  Thomas had excellent perception – as far as I knew, it was close to - or even on par with - mine. According to him, he'd be able to spot those sentries the moment they tried to escape towards the goblin camp, and as long as we were far enough, he'd be able to eliminate two or three escaping goblins before they could alert their brethren.

  Moreover, we would be able to gauge the general direction of the camp.

  This is why we would, hopefully, run into such goblins around 4 to 8 kilometers before the midpoint. Anything more would take too long to traverse, and anything less would risk our discovery by the main camp, something we could not afford.

  If this worked out, we'd follow the general direction of the camp. As much as possible would be covered on horseback, while the rest would be covered on foot. If not, we'd be forced to act upon assumptions, searching the most probable direction and hoping to at least discover tracks.

  Either way, if - or once - we found the camp, Thomas would scout it, return to us, and formulate a plan.

  Our main objectives would be as follows: Assassinate all greater goblins, and free the captives if possible. Thomas would be responsible for the most of the work, while me and Jimmy would act as a distraction.

  Of course, this was the initial plan. With things like this, it was imperative to keep in mind that things could go wrong at every turn.

  “Where did you serve?”

  About two hours in, we finally slowed our horses to a walk, as even on the dirt road, the sound of hooves would reach too far otherwise.

  This allowed the three horses to walk side by side, which, in turn allowed for a hushed conversation to take place under the early morning sunrays.

  “I- how did you know I served in the military, sir? I could have been a retired adventurer, or a city guard.”

  “Ha! City guards tend to be a territorial bunch. For someone around thirty, with a Path, and even a 2nd level – you'd likely be a squad leader, or a senior guard, at least. And at that point, simply retiring at a young age and in good health would not only deprive you of half your pension, but also feel like betraying the boys. You don’t seem like someone who would do that.”

  “You speak like adventuring isn't even an option.”

  “Of course not. Your manner of speech, the intonations in your voice, your subtle mannerisms... The only place outside the military where you can pick that up is the city watch. And most of us served in the military, anyway.”

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  The big man chuckled, and shook his head.

  “You got me. Iron Fist corps, Restless Valor division. 89th company. Lasted for five years.”

  “Iron Fist – you guys were mostly responsible for monster subjugations.”

  “Aye. I've usually been doing patrols for the first two years, but over time, they began sending me on more and more missions. Still surprised I survived all of that.”

  “If you don't mind me asking, when were you discharged?”

  “1027 AC. Seven years ago. It was actually late summer, too. Celebrated it last week with a few drinks.”

  “I see. I take it you were part of the Lionheart Campaign?”

  I could hear a modicum of respect in the deputy’s voice.

  “You sure know a lot about our corps.”

  “I knew quite a bit about different corps back in the day. Part of my job.”

  The deputy awkwardly smiled, and the big man averted his eyes, then chuckled.

  “I suppose you were in the Silent Moon corps… anyway, you guessed correctly. Lost most of my squad on a mission there. That campaign was my last.”

  “...My condolences.”

  For a moment, the shade of sorrow fell over Jim’s eyes, yet it departed even faster than it appeared.

  “Thanks. Anyway, it's fine. It all happened a long time ago.”

  “What made you come to this small village, though? You could definitely get a good position in the city watch, where you might have progressed your Path, or even a smaller town watch, like ours, where you could live comfortably… Far less danger than ‘round these parts.”

  “Actually, I was born in this village.”

  “Oh?”

  The deputy looked genuinely surprised.

  “Yeah.. to be honest, I came here because of the woman who's now my wife. Back then, we were already in love, but I was young and hot-bloodied, resolved to make a name for myself. Still, I made her a promise that I would come back, and she promised she’d wait for me for five years. In the end, I decided to return, and now I have two amazing children, and a loving wife.”

  “I see. That's quite a story.”

  “Ha ha! Not as exciting as yours, I’m sure.”

  “My story.. My story hasn't ended yet. But if both of our stories were to end today, I think your ending would be better.”

  “Ha… let's not talk about endings just yet. How about you get us through this mission in one piece?”

  “Heh. Don't worry, I-”

  Suddenly, the short man stopped talking. I picked up the reason for it – a faint rustle in the forest bushes, a few dozen meters west of the road.

  “Hyaa!”

  The black horse sprinted towards the woods, and our horses followed near-instantly.

  Of course, moving too fast through the woods on horseback was impossible, and held a high risk of one of the horses tripping and hurting their leg, which would be catastrophic on such a journey.

  “Oi!”

  Once Gust reached the forest outline, Thomas slowed it down, using the momentum to leap a few meters forward over its head, right from the saddle, and burst into a sprint of his own – an acrobatic feat that would be completely unthinkable on Earth.

  His movement was irregular, too; His figure became slightly blurry, the sound of his steps became muffled, and even I could barely detect his presence with my senses, all while his speed actually increased.

  Sure, it was still much slower than my [Charge], but that was a burst-type ability, while this seemed to be more sustainable.

  We simply stopped our horses near Gust, who was seemingly used to such antics, and patiently waited for his return.

  Whether our plan would proceed as we hoped, became more complicated, or died in its infancy, was now completely dependent on the deputy’s success.

  A minute passed. Then another. Neither of us uttered a sound. Even the horses were quiet, perhaps sensing the heavy atmosphere.

  Finally, after 8 minutes and 35 seconds (which I couldn't help but count in my head) the deputy returned.

  “Two sentries. Both down. They made no sound before dying, and I didn’t see or hear anything else nearby. Given their direction, the camp is more or less where we thought it would be. Maybe a little bit farther into the forest.”

  “Did you find any trails for the horses?”

  “I did, actually. We are anywhere between six to ten kilometers from the goblin camp, though, and we can't exactly triangulate their location. It might be best we go on foot, and lead the horses as close as we can.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I nodded as well. I had no experience with this type of mission, so it was best to leave it to someone who did.

  We got off our horses, holding them by the reins, and followed our leader.

  ***

  “It is as we expected.”

  After marching for nearly an hour without hearing a single sound that resembled a goblin screech, we found a nice small cave to leave our horses in, tying them to a boulder inside.

  We even took a few minutes to cover the entrance with branches and pine needles, as well as ‘transplanting’ a few bushes (cutting them at their base with Thomas's slashing Skill, and planting the uprooted stems near the entrance).

  After less than thirty minutes of a quick yet silent march, me and the deputy heard the distant screeches almost simultaneously.

  He went ahead to scout, while we hid in the nearby bushes.

  For a while, we stood in silence.

  “Sure’s a lot of those bastards out there.”

  Perhaps to relieve the tension in the air, the Warrior spoke in a hushed voice.

  I simply nodded. I wasn’t really in the mood for words.

  “This is your first mission of this scale, is it not?”

  I nodded once more.

  “Hmm… you don’t seem afraid…”

  I didn’t even glance at him, ignoring his analyzing tone.

  “But… forgive me for prying, but could it be you lost someone recently?”

  This time, I turned my head to look into his eyes. At first, I was annoyed by his question, but seeing the genuine concern in his eyes, accompanied by the faint aftertones of sadness, I couldn’t bring myself to get angry.

  “Is it really that obvious?”

  The man shook his head, as his left lip rose in a faint smile. His eyes, however, reflected even more bitterness.

  “Not really. It’s just… I’ve seen many of my brothers wear this look.”

  He sighed.

  “Wore it myself more times than I would care to admit.”

  We both stood in silence for over a minute.

  “I know you don’t want to.. no, can’t bring yourself to fully focus on those goblins right now.”

  I opened my mouth to refute him, but he raised his hand.

  “It’s fine. I’m sure that when it’s time to do battle, your instincts will kick in, and you’ll probably do just fine.”

  I simply looked at him with a questioning gaze.

  “Just.. sometimes, a moment of hesitation is enough to change the tide of a battle – for better or worse.”

  His eyes met mine with a solemn gaze.

  “I’ve lost more than one brother on the battlefield to such hesitation. The morning of the mission, they said they’d be fine, and then, a untypically slow reaction, or a slight misstep, would end up with a leaper’s beak piercing their skull, or a harpy’s talon finding its path to their throat.”

  “...”

  I wanted to answer, but when forced to retrospect, I had to admit there might have been a speck of truth to his worries.

  “Just remember. Whoever has died, they would not want your memories of them to be the cause of your untimely demise.”

  “I… I’m fine. But thank you for your words.”

  ‘Big’ Jimmy nodded, seemingly content, and I turned my head towards the faint rustle in the nearby bushes.

  Of course, it’s not like any of the goblins could come this close without my senses detecting it.

  Twenty minutes have already passed, and the deputy returned with new information.

  “There are nearly a hundred of them, maybe a dozen less. A few guards around the camp, but no patrols. Three greater goblins - one missing an arm. Except for the guards, everyone is asleep.”

  The short man sighed.

  “However, there are over a dozen guards, each in view of a single overseer at the center. The shaman himself must have devised their stations beforehand – getting rid of them one by one won't work.”

  “And the captives?”

  “Kept in a large wooden cage in the back. There are eleven in total – they must have captured seven in Westville.”

  “Do you.. do you think we can save them?”

  Jimmy's voice turned grim. The deputy's expression turned solemn, but he did not outright deny the possibility.

  “I will try. However, this depends on you, as well.”

  He unfastened a case from his belt, similar to my potion case, but slightly larger, and removed its cover.

  “Here's what we'll do…”