Chapter 177

Nick thought dispassionately. Levels were power, that was true; it would always be true. However, they weren’t the only way to gain strength.The gnolls had been powerful. A single gnoll had been unable to handle ten ex-soldiers, but Nick would bet that four or five would have been enough.

And yet, he alone had more at his disposal than the entire pack combined.

Knowledge was his true strength. Power was the means by which knowledge expressed itself.

was a relatively weak spell at its present level, yet its remarkable versatility inspired him to dream big. He envisioned it as the foundation for his future build, in conjunction with his elemental magic. Nevertheless, he was aware that he could accomplish even greater feats.

If he could finally grasp the magic lingering at the edges of his mind—close enough that he could almost feel it taking shape, yet fading away whenever he focused on it—he would gain much more power than a single level could provide.

“That was well done, mage. Gnolls are very quick to expand their territory, and they would have become a scourge on the southern grassland if they were allowed to breed.” One of the men grunted, clenching his hands to avoid trembling.

If Nick had been a kinder person, he would have softened his image by showing vulnerability to ease the man’s worries. However, his mind was already beyond this band of deserters, and so he didn’t.

“We found one of them stalking us a while ago. Tried to shake it by pulling north-west, but it never seemed to lose us. We ended up killing it, but that only brought more of them on our tracks.” Another spat, staring at the dead beastmen with more than the contempt reserved for an enemy.

Nick noticed, and if he did, Elia certainly did too. Her expression shuttered, and he knew she wouldn’t lift another finger to save them.

The gnolls had posed a danger, and their unwillingness to even consider peaceful talks meant they needed to be eliminated before they could become a greater threat. However, Nick didn’t take pleasure in their deaths, just as he didn’t find joy in the men’s gratitude.

It was a brittle thing anyway. They were frightened, thrown off balance by his youthful appearance and great power, and they kept stealing glances at Elia as if waiting for her to do something menacing.

“You left a pretty clear trail, to be fair,” Rhea suggested lightly, as if discussing the weather. Her eyes were as hard as flint, and she surveyed the men, as if trying to divine who had been the one to insult her family.

“Tsk. It didn’t seem worth the effort to clean up when we left anyone who’d care for us behind.” The youngest of the lot, who appeared to be in his early twenties, muttered. A bitterness lingered in his tone that revealed more than he probably intended.

Rhea zeroed in on it. “Oh? Are you not going somewhere, with all that merchandise you wear?”

The man sputtered, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to pull at the thread he’d left out. “No! I mean, no, we did mean to get to a city to sell our stuff. Got it fair and square for helping a caravan leave Ivonneburg, you know. It’s just… The north’s not in good shape at the moment.”

“Ludovic.” The oldest warned, and the young man fell silent.

Unfortunately, he had already said too much, and Rhea would not be deterred by a surly old man. She was accustomed to dealing with much worse. “Why would a caravan be leaving Ivonneburg in such haste? Isn’t the summer market about to start?”

The men appeared surprised that she knew so much. The eldest, evidently some sort of leader, scrutinized her with his keen eyes. “Not from here, are you, girly? Not many people know about the northern towns ‘round these parts.”

Rhea just smiled, innocent and soft like a knife wrapped in silk. “I have traveled some.” She didn’t add anything, but her unwavering gaze implied she wasn’t content with the non-answer she’d received.

The old man appeared ready to dismiss her, but his eyes darted to Nick’s, who held his gaze impassively. Rhea would get her answers, one way or another.

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If anything, the man seemed resigned, as if he were accustomed to being pushed around by more powerful people. The others looked around uneasily, sensing the shift in atmosphere but not knowing what had caused it.

“The north is not safe these days.” The man finally said, staring stonily ahead. “Something big happened around a month ago. We were never told what, but everyone from the highest nobles to the subterranean dwarves has been preparing for something. Monsters have begun descending from the mountains, but they don’t even bother assaulting cities. They go around, as if trying to flee. People are nervous.”

The timing didn’t escape Nick. He doubted that the dwarven clans had heard anything about the dungeon in the Green Ocean yet, much less of its destruction, but it fit too well to be a coincidence.

Also, while it was true that the forest’s monsters had become more active, they hadn’t fled the dungeon even after the Summer Court had taken residence within it. They had attacked Floria and would have continued to do so if Marthas hadn’t broken the core. The pattern was too different, but the timing…

“And so you left,” Rhea continued for him. Her tone was neutral, but it was clear she wasn’t impressed.

The men bristled, sensitive and prideful. “You don’t know what we went through, little girl,” one declared, defiant and angry.

The emotions were still fresh, so their desertion couldn’t have occurred too long ago. They’d likely been fleeing without rest and had only stopped upon reaching the central grassland. That a pack of gnolls had tracked them was unfortunate, but Nick could understand why they hadn’t bothered to sneak around. They believed themselves far enough from danger, not realizing that everywhere had its own predators.

Still, he didn’t appreciate the man’s tone and made it clear by applying just a little pressure. This wasn’t something he’d ever attempted before, given how quickly he’d dispatched most enemies, but intimidation was its own art. Changing the air pressure just enough to mimic a rolling storm without any visual or auditory effects was sufficient for the men to shiver.

*Slap.* The sound echoed, but no one reacted. The older man pulled back his hand from where he had struck his companion, bowing his head in apology. “Sorry about that. The boys are still tense from the fight. We thought we were done for.”

Nick inclined his head but didn’t add anything. This wasn’t his show.

“There is something I’m curious about, though.” Rhea continued as if she hadn’t been interrupted, slowly inserting her hand into her pouch and grabbing something. “If you guys are intending on selling your goods, why leave this behind?”

Her question was innocent enough, but the way she held the broken dagger gave it a more sinister feel. Rhea gripped the hilt as if ready to plunge it into someone’s neck, despite it having only a sliver of metal as a blade.

All twelve men stiffened, staring at the wrought steel as if it were a living snake. No one answered for a moment, and Nick slightly increased the air pressure once more, earning a collective shiver.

“That… Where did you find that?” the youngest, Ludovic, asked. He had gone bone white in the face, and it was clear he didn’t expect the conversation to lead to this.

Nick, however, noted the way the eldest’s eyes widened with realization as he looked between the dagger and Rhea. He remained silent for the moment, but it was clear he had made some connection.

Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs NoveI-Fire.ɴet

“Answer the question,” Rhea growled, baring her teeth.

Once more, no one spoke up. Several men shifted around, but Nick didn’t notice anyone reaching for their weapons. They were just uneasy, and things hadn’t devolved that far yet.

Eventually, the old man sighed. “That dagger broke during the skirmish that led us to desert our post.”

Gasps of surprise escaped from the others, clearly not expecting the truth to be revealed. Rhea kept her eyes firmly on the old man, waiting for more.

“It was owned by our commander. He was a man of noble birth who had dedicated himself to defending the realm.” His eyes were distant, and his voice was heavy with emotion. “A brave man, in the eyes of many. Heroic, even. Always ready to throw himself into danger, to volunteer for the next fight. When the order to patrol the Spearhorn’s routes came, he quickly offered to defend the trade caravans meant for Ivonneburg. We went, of course. We respected him too much not to. But when we got there, the road had already been claimed by a contingent of dark dwarves. They claimed the land was theirs and that they’d just been allowing the kingdom to use it for a while.”

A few men spat with disdain. Although they had abandoned their post, they clearly still regarded the claim as ludicrous.

Nick had only heard snippets about this specific variant of dwarves, but he vaguely remembered them being even more surly and inflexible than regular dwarves. He doubted they would have been particularly reasonable about a territorial dispute.

“And so your commander ordered you to fight.” Rhea continued.

The old man nodded, “He did, and we fought. A quick skirmish at first, but then the damn dwarves kept chasing us. They knew exactly where we were going because more kept popping up, and no matter what we did, they were herding us. And so the commander ordered us to fight. We did, for a while. A squadron of a hundred trained soldiers can fight damn hard if it wants to. We suffered some losses, but we gave as good as we got.”

“Hear, hear.” Another man murmured, while the others nodded.

“But they kept pushing. More kept coming, and they started adapting to our strategies. We got fewer hits in, while they started not just wounding us, but taking kills left and right.”

A picture began forming in Nick’s mind. Although he didn’t know the significance of this particular route, the fact that the dwarves felt confident enough not only to harass a royal patrol but also to fight it to total destruction indicated that they did not expect any retaliation.

That meant either a weak kingdom, which Nick doubted, or a kingdom that could not afford to redirect its attention to deal with issues like this.

“The commander’s sword got lost, and he was reduced to using that dagger to kill any dwarf that got too close. He managed to slip it into their armor, despite it resisting our weapons. And so he caught the attention of one of their champions.” The old man appeared haunted then, as if the mere memory was enough to harm him.

“It was covered in bronze tattoos. Took a look at the commander and laughed so hard that the mountain shook. One swipe of its warhammer was all it needed. The commander died on the spot, and the dagger broke with him. The other dwarves began to swarm us then, and we started running away. It was all we could do to take the civilians with us, and after a point, we had to leave them behind too.”

It was a fascinating story, but Rhea didn’t seem particularly moved. She raised the dagger once more and asked, “What was your commander’s name?”

“Jonathan Ultimer.”