Chương 13: Different choice

While I stayed behind at the cabin, practicing my sword forms with the newly acquired longsword and getting more used to the weight of the Ironcoal armor, Galer headed into town alone to gather information about the blue-horned creature and the route to Bassania. He was gone for most of the day. When he finally returned, his face was dark and clouded with a sour, painful expression I had never seen on him.

Without a word, he dropped onto the wooden bench outside the cabin, pulled out a jug of strong ale he had bought in town, and began drinking deeply. I watched him in silence for a while before I finally asked, "What happened? Why are you drowning yourself in ale instead of telling me what's going on?" In a sudden flare of anger, he slammed the jug down so hard that it cracked and ale spilled across the ground.

"I AM AN EXILE!" he shouted.

"That's why I can't currently go anywhere near Bassania!" He stared at the dirt between his boots, breathing heavily.

"I'm hiding here, right on the Moesia-Dacram borders, because they would never find me here. Even so, one of my family members is currently operating in that region... Illyria, where Bassania lies, fighting for glory under some Graf. My entire family is searching for me… to kill me. I am nothing but a disappointment to my father's bloodline. He is a vile, cold man who only values offspring that bring him prestige, either through academics or warfare. I am plain average in his eyes.

As the fifth youngest of seventeen children, I had to run for my life, after discovering that one of my older sisters and a brother had been ordered to remove me from the estate and make me disappear permanently. A kind maid risked everything to warn me just in time. I had always known my father scorned my existence, but that day it became real."

"I tried to argue back.

"That's bullshit. Not long ago we fought those Satyrs together. You were powerful… maybe not on the level of the strongest warriors I've seen, but definitely up there. You saved those children. You moved like you carried light itself."

"Enough," he cut me off sharply, though his voice cracked a little.

"I know exactly how plain and average I am compared to the rest of my family." He took a deep breath and continued more quietly.

"Well… the cat's out of the bag now. My real name is Galerius de Firius from Monaser, a powerful nation ruled by a Herzog, please still call me Galer. That's why I ran all the way here. I had read the old Nibelungen stories many times and knew of the gold cave, that would let me survive without drawing to much attention. With my average skills, I could live quietly as a mercenary. I did that for over a year… but I can't risk going near Bassania.

I would die a dog's death there, and I'm not ready to throw my life away yet. Still, it hurts. I want vengeance on that blue-horned bastard more than anything, but right now I can't do a damn thing about it. Sitting here procrastinating won't change anything either." After a long, heavy silence he stood up.

"I'll head out alone for a while. I need to fish and clear my head. Give me some space. Tomorrow we'll plan everything anew." I nodded begrudgingly and let him go. As he disappeared into the trees, I sat there thinking about how my own father would have handled the situation. With his strong presence and calm confidence, he probably could have overpowered Galer's doubts and forced him to believe in himself more. But that was my father… not me.

The next morning Galer returned looking noticeably calmer and in a better mood. He still insisted on being called simply Galer, and I accepted it without question. We both carried heavy family burdens... we had that much in common. He agreed with a small smile.

"I thought about it yesterday. It's time we do what I promised. We'll head to a Church of Michaelanius and get your Animo properly checked. While we're there, we can pick up some missions to keep growing stronger. We'll wait until my brother moves out of the Illyrian Mountains… again Bassania lies in that region and we strike the blue horned monster down!" It was a two-day walk to the larger city of Plew. The Church of Michaelanius there was far grander than anything I had seen in Lae or Mat.

The moment we stepped inside the high-vaulted hall, a deep spiritual weight pressed down on me and gave me goosebumps. Priests in white-and-gold robes moved about with quiet purpose, many deep in prayer. One of the priests noticed us and approached with a warm, welcoming smile.

"Ah, welcome in the name of Michaelanius. We hope your journey here was safe. What can I offer thee, travelers?" We explained that we wanted an Animo reading. For a donation of one gold coin, the priest, whose name was Muldov, led me to a simple stone bench. He stood directly in front of me, placed both hands gently on my face, and activated his ability. His eyes began to glow with a bright, piercing light that poured into me like I was a vessel being refilled.

I felt my spirit aura being carefully measured and weighed. He started murmuring numbers rapidly: "10… 20… 30… 40…" The count accelerated until, with strong poise and certainty in his voice, he declared, " 339." I looked over at Galer, who gave an approving nod.

"Not bad at all. I suspected it was somewhere around there, but we needed to confirm it." Priest Muldov sat down beside us and offered a cool drink to all three of us. After we took a few sips, he smiled kindly at me.

"For a one-armed young man with so little formal experience, that is a respectable Animo. You should be proud of how far you've already come." He gave my back a gentle, encouraging pat. We thanked him warmly, promised we would visit again someday, and left the church feeling lighter. From there we headed straight to the Mercenary Station in Plew. Galer introduced me casually as "the one-armed hick mess" he had taken under his wing. Several mercenaries raised their eyebrows in surprise.

"Häää? You used to work alone all the time. Now you're bringing a young cripple into your party? What's this, some kind of nepotism?" jeered one Mercenary. One of the bigger men tried a sudden test punch aimed at my cheek. I dodged it cleanly thanks to months of training. The man's eyes widened in shock.

"Woah… okay." Embarrassed, he quickly threw an arm around my shoulders like we were old friends, trying to hide that a one-armed boy had just evaded his strong right hook. After some rough, playful banter and confirmation that I wasn't completely useless, they registered me as an official F-class mercenary. We then looked over the available jobs. In a city the size of Plew the rewards were noticeably better, but so was the danger level. Galer pointed at one listing.

"This one looks interesting." A Mantis Insect Swarm is attacking the village of Dresche, about 100 kilometers from north-west here. Should only take us roughly an hour to reach at a good pace." As we left the registry station he explained: "Mantises are large green insects, standing around 2. 30 meters tall.

They strike extremely fast, attacks reaching 300 to 400 km/h and they have powerful regeneration, which makes them very annoying to finish off, so try cutting off as much as you can, let them over absorb and then they are killable." We started running toward the mission site. After about twenty kilometers, Galer suddenly slowed and hissed, "We're being followed." We turned around. A C-rank mercenary stepped out from the treeline, a man named Husher, 1. 79 meters tall.

He had striking, messy black hair with prominent silver-white highlights and tips, especially visible at the front and sides. The hair was wild and windswept, with sharp, layered strands that fell dynamically across his forehead and around his face. His bangs were slightly spiky and tousled, giving him a maverick, intense, and somewhat roguish appearance. He carried a large shield and sword.

"Hey Galer, you fuck. Remember me?" With a bitter snarl, he pointed his sword directly at Galer. The blade reflected off Galer's shoulder-length, silver-white hair, which gleamed like polished moonstone. The soft, voluminous layers were caught in a powerful, windswept gust, sending a few loose strands over his forehead and adding a certain rebellious charm to his intense gaze. Galer's expression darkened.

"Youuuu… yes, I remember. That bastard scammed me on a job four months ago and screwed me over. I had to hunt him down, kill him, and take the reward that was supposed to be ours." Husher grinned with ugly anger.

"Yeah, thanks for the scar and the 'shitty endurance.' That's the only reason you nearly killed me that day. Should have checked my pulse, idiot. I trained hard and took dozens of jobs just to make sure I could beat your ass into the ground like you did to me. I still remember how you pummeled me with those knives. Well, now my shield is ready. Here I come!" The fight exploded between them instantly. It felt like too much for me, so I jumped back to observe.

Even after learning my Animo was 339, I still felt how far behind, as I watched their intense, high-level exchange. Both men used their attributes masterfully, Galer's bright Lighted Knives against Husher's Water attribute. Bubbles continuously formed across Husher's skin, protecting him and reducing the impact of Galer's strikes. In arrogance Husher shouted, "See? Now my bubbling even outshines your fancy lighting knives in usefulness!" Galer suddenly sheathed both knives.

"This is dumb. You're a scammer and a cheat. Why should you get revenge when you're the bad guy in the first place? Let's go, Erumes." He turned to leave. Husher roared in fury, "Hey! Stay here and finish this fight!" In the end Husher decided to tag along anyway, still demanding his battle. Galer calmly told him they could settle it properly after the job was done and with no spectators around. Husher nodded.

"So you saw them too?" Galer confirmed.

"There were others watching from the shadows, like hyenas waiting for one of us to get seriously hurt. Most likely bandits or rival mercenaries. Who really cares? If we had kept fighting in the open like idiots, we would have just invited death." With that shared understanding, the three of us continued running together toward the Mantis swarm threatening the village of Dresche. We reached the village of Dresche as the sun dipped low on the horizon.

With that shared understanding, the three of us continued running together toward the Mantis swarm threatening the village of Dresche. We reached the village as the sun dipped low on the horizon. The guard who had posted the mission spotted us immediately and rushed over, exhaustion and hope mixing on his face.

"You took the job? Ten gold coins if you clear them out," he said quickly.

"They only attack at night, so it will be soon. Luckily we're on the main road, so they haven't done too much damage yet, but they're still a serious threat. They raid crops, ambush merchants, and harass our guards. We're down to twenty-one guards now... three are already dead. If you hadn't shown up today, we would've suffered even heavier casualties." We followed him to the elder's house. While waiting for nightfall, Husher casually scanned the Animo levels of the villagers and guards.

"260 to 292," he muttered.

"Not shabby for such a remote place. Living with bandits constantly roaming around here must sharpen everyone from a young age." The guard nodded grimly.

"We've counted six of the mantises so far. They come at night. We've tried fighting them, but they're fast and strong." I asked, "Have any of you actually fought them before?" Both Galer and Husher looked at me, then shook their heads.

"No," Galer admitted.

"But we've heard stories from other villages. Can't be that much worse than bandits or other monsters we deal with… right?" We decided to stake out the fields near the edge of the woods. As true darkness settled, the mantises finally emerged, six sleek, dark-green insects gliding silently out of the treeline into view. Each stood roughly 2. 30 meters tall, their serrated forelegs gleaming like scythes. Their mandibles clicked hungrily as they hissed and drooled at the sight of the ripe crops.

We moved into a wide intercepting line. The battle erupted in an instant. The first mantis lunged at me with terrifying speed, its foreleg slashing in a blur of 200 to 400 km/h. I twisted sideways, the blade of its arm whistling past my Ironcoal armor and dealing intermediate damage. Another mantis reacted immediately, forcing me into a brutal 1v2 situation. Husher laughed wildly somewhere to my left.

"Ohhh, better for me!" Galer remained deathly silent, his glowing light knives flashing as he deflected strikes with perfect timing. I could see frustration flicker across his face when he realized his shorter reach was a disadvantage against the mantises' long limbs. I focused everything on the mantis directly in front of me. Its attacks came in rapid, whipping combinations, slash, thrust, overhead chop. I dodged two out of every five, the Ironcoal armor absorbing some of the glancing blows that connected.

My longsword met its foreleg with a harsh clang, sparks flying in the darkness. For two grueling minutes we exchanged blows. Sweat stung my eyes. My left arm burned from the constant effort. Finally, I found an opening. I stepped inside its reach and drove my sword deep into the soft joint of its thorax with all my strength. The mantis let out a piercing hiss and collapsed. I spun triumphantly toward the second one, only to remember too late about their powerful regeneration.

The first mantis, which I thought I had killed, suddenly surged back to life. Its slashed foreleg whipped across my back before I could fully turn. Pain exploded along my spine. Thanks to months of training, I instinctively twisted and rolled with the blow, reducing the damage, but blood still soaked the inside of my armor. The wound burned fiercely. Gritting my teeth, I turned back to the regenerating mantis and hammered it again, this time severing one of its forelegs completely.

But the second mantis was already pressing me hard, its claws slashing in a frenzy. I dodged, parried, and counter-attacked, bleeding from multiple shallow cuts. The cycle repeated: I would down one, only for it to begin regenerating moments later and strike again from behind or the side. My breathing grew ragged. My legs felt heavy. Every time I thought I had finished one, the other would force me to switch targets.

The Ironcoal armor saved me from fatal blows several times, but the constant regeneration made the fight feel endless and demoralizing. After what felt like an eternity of brutal exchanges, dodging, slashing, and tanking hits I couldn't avoid, I finally overpowered both. With a roar of effort thanks mostly to my still small inner heart burning, I severed the head of the last regenerating mantis. Green ichor sprayed across the crops.

I stood there panting, covered in sweat, blood, and mantis fluid, but a fierce grin split my face. When I looked over, both Galer and Husher had already finished their own mantises in less than a third of the time it had taken me. Still, pride swelled in my chest. I had held my own. We turned back toward the village to collect our reward when fresh screams tore through the night. A smaller mantis, only 1.

30 meters tall but strikingly light-green, was already slaughtering four village guards near the edge of the settlement. This one looked different... almost elegant and vile in its design. It had four arms instead of two, and its movements were visibly faster and more powerful than the others, easily double the speed and strength. It immediately targeted Husher, landing a devastating strike that sent him crashing to the ground.

"Galer! Nooo… the scammer!" I shouted. Husher grunted from the dirt.

"Oi, I'm alive! I used my bubbling burst to switch spots, but that thing is dangerous. It's at least twice as strong as one of the mantises we fought and far more cunning. It actually figured out how to graze me despite the bubbling way technique." Galer's face hardened with fury.

"Switch positions! We attack it together!" I knew I was already badly weakened, blood dripping down my back and legs, but the small flame inside my chest suddenly flared again hot and bright, like a lone candle burning defiantly in total darkness. I refused to stay on the sidelines again. When Galer and Husher launched their coordinated combo, glowing light knives flashing from Galer and powerful bubble implosions from Husher, I pushed forward with renewed ferocity, ignoring the screaming pain in my legs.

My longsword struck the light-green mantis's side with surprising force. Husher whistled in shock.

"344… 356! Woah, the kid is bursting hot!" The mantis dismissed me at first, then tried to pounce on me, but my strike had done real damage. It lost one limb in a spray of green blood and began bleeding heavily from the wound. As it attempted to flee, the remaining village guards, who had been watching the fight in stunned awe, blocked its escape route and joined the fray with spears and axes.

My own strength was fading fast from blood loss and exhaustion, but I watched with fierce satisfaction as Galer and Husher, supported by the guards, pressed the advantage. Their combined assault light blades and bubbling implosions... finally overwhelmed the creature. With a final, coordinated strike, they ripped its head clean off. Thick green blood poured from the severed neck and soaked the ground. Galer turned to me, breathing hard, and said, "It's not over yet.

Take the young one back to the village for recovery." He gave me his usual light punch on the top of my head. Husher grinned tiredly and said, "Mes, was it? That was your name in the registry, right? I liked your fire back there. That passion was real." Galer quickly pulled Husher aside before he could say more.

"Let's check where these mantises came from." They returned two hours later carrying the heads of four more ordinary dark-green mantises, but found no clear clue about the origin of the anomalous light-green one.

"We should inform the Graf in Plew," Galer said seriously.

"Request reinforcements and keep the board active in case more appear." Our long, brutal day and night finally came to an end. We rode back toward the cabin on a simple carriage provided by the grateful villagers. Even though I was wounded and exhausted, a quiet, warm pride filled me. For the first time in a long while, I hadn't been completely sidelined. I had shown my passion, ignited the flame my father left me, and fought with everything I had.

The carriage rolled through the night as I leaned back, the small fire in my chest burning brighter than ever.