Chương 9: Chapter 8 – Dinner Debrief

The microwave dinged, and Kai greedily seized the large bowl inside: a hearty beef stew from the day before. It was one of the few things he truly missed after moving out. Tonight, the stew tasted better than it ever had. So, he went for seconds, then for thirds. His shoulder throbbed with every spoonful, but the hunger was worse. As the worst of it faded, he noticed that Lena across the kitchen table had barely touched her food.

Instead, she had laid out strange patterns with meat and vegetables, occasionally moving them around like chess pieces.

"Wha're you doin'?" he mumbled, mouth full of potato and beans.

"Review."

"Review?"

"Yes." Oh, for fuck's sake.

"What are you reviewing?" At that, she looked up, confused.

"The fight, of course?" Kai blinked. Indeed, with a bit of imagination, he recognized the forest battlefield in a heavily abstracted form.

"Why am I a piece of carrot?"

"Because the goblins are peas."

"…And why are you beef?"

"Because I like beef. Now shut up, I'm thinking." Kai took another mouthful, but it didn't taste quite as good as before. He set down the spoon and followed Lena's rapid adjustments. Some of the peas were arranged roughly where the hidden archers had been. One sat on a crust of bread that had to be the boulder. Another had been crushed flat. The Kai-carrot was facing the last one, and the Mom-potato was sitting in a bush drawn with broth. Then Lena crushed the hunter on the boulder.

"Wait," Kai interjected.

"That's not what happened."

"Yup. It's what should have happened," his sister murmured, pushing the crushed pea into the stew until it disappeared.

"It was suboptimal for me to attack the fighter. I should have gone for the archer up there, and left the fighter to you."

"Huh." Kai tried to feign nonchalance, but to no avail. He fished a pea out of his own stew and placed it approximately where the shaman had ambushed them, then crushed the one standing in front of his carrot double.

"So, I kill the fighter. What now? The shaman comes out and fucks me up." He winced.

"No way to see that coming, right?" Lena's eyes briefly flickered up, almost meeting his before settling on the table again.

"Probably not. Never really got past this point. How do we deal with something this unexpected?" Kai leaned back in his chair, thinking.

"Maybe…" He gingerly took a ring of onion out of his bowl and placed it around the carrot.

"We probably can't avoid me getting hit here. So–""–you need armor," Lena concluded.

"You take the hit–" she chopped a tiny piece out of the carrot, making Kai flinch, "–and then we pivot."

"But now we've got ranged enemies on two sides, and we can only see one of them."

"Right. That's why we get into cover!" she exclaimed, shoving carrot, beef and potato behind the crust-boulder.

"So we force the hidden archers to move, while dealing with the isolated shaman," Kai said, crushing the respective pea.

"Yes!" Lena beamed.

"And while we hunker down behind the rock, Mom can talk to the trees."

"Then she finds the archers. I run up to them," Kai moved the carrot from broth tree to broth tree, "while the two of you harass them with low-powered spells so they don't hit me too much."

"And then–" Lena began, but suddenly went quiet.

"What's wrong?"

"... We're assuming too much." Kai paused mid-movement, hesitated briefly, then reset the improvised board.

"Right. What if the shaman hits Mom instead?"

"We lose healing. Have to play it a lot safer."

"Mhm. So, we take him out and–" = = = = = Laura stared at her husband, who in turn stared out of the master bedroom window towards the dark forest.

"Do you see anything?" she inquired, mostly to get the conversation moving again.

"Yes," he replied to her surprise.

"Another group of goblins in the treeline."

"... How can you possibly see them in this darkness?"

"My Perception is at 18," he stated, as if that number meant anything to her.

"Will you send us out again?" Laura asked, making the edge in her voice so sharp that even Daniel would get it. And indeed, he did.

"Not for the time being," he said, turning around to face her.

"I'll clean them up myself before they cause any more trouble. You and the kids won't be fighting any goblins for the next few weeks, at least. I have other plans." Laura felt her frustration bubble up.

"Explain your plans to me."

"Okay. First of all, you need better equipment. Your starter set was the only one that had somewhat usable armor, the kids only have robes."

"Which makes me wonder why you considered it a good idea to send us out there in the first place, honey."

"Miscalculation," he grumbled.

"It's been a very long time since I was level seven. And much, much worse: I still worked with the assumption that in the worst case, I can just take you to a temple of Luna for healing and resurrection." Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

"… Resurrection?!"

"Yes. The temple takes an extortionate fee, but it works. Well, over there at least."

"Let me get this straight. You considered your children's death an acceptable risk?"

"Of course not," he replied, scandalized.

"I considered temporary death an acceptable risk. It is one every adventurer faces, no exceptions." Laura stared at him for a few seconds, trying to process that monstrosity of a sentence. Her husband's face turned multiple shades whiter as he realized what he just said.

"But we are not adventurers. And there is no 'temple of Luna' here." Daniel's eyes suddenly became distant again.

"Would you rather be powerless before those who will become adventurers? I've seen where that leads."

"Where does it lead?" Laura challenged.

"Our home is not the fucked up world you fought in."

"Laura, you know exactly where it leads. You know how people work. It is literally your job."

"It is still not your place to turn your family into soldiers," she seethed.

"These are our kids you're talking about!"

"Then tell me what you would do instead," Daniel replied flatly.

"How are you planning to keep them safe?"

"..." Laura desperately wanted to say, 'let someone else deal with it'. Anyone. Her first instinct was the police, or even the military. She was reasonably sure a gun would put a goblin down faster than a sword ever could. But if the goblins were not just in the Brandts' backyard, but everywhere, like Daniel said… There was no way everyone could be kept safe. It was a logistical impossibility. And that was before one considered communications.

"What's going on with the internet and the phone line?" she asked, her rage replaced by something steely. Daniel blinked, briefly surprised by the change in topic. But as usual, he quickly caught up with her.

"I could explain the processes behind it–""Please don't."

"–but I figured you'd say that. It's ambient mana interfering with subatomic particles and– Sorry. Mana makes line go 'crshshshsh'," he grimaced. Despite herself, Laura felt the corners of her lips twitch up when she saw his pained expression.

"So, no wire communication. Radio?"

"No radio. Probably. Not that I ever actually tested it."

"Fuck."

"Indeed."

"Do you know when it will fail completely?"

"From the rate I'm seeing, a week at most."

"We should warn– No. There will already be monster videos circulating wherever the internet still works. No point in drawing attention," she sighed. Daniel just nodded. She paced up and down the large bedroom.

"Basically, we can't do anything about the world at large. So, we start small."

"Yes. I could secure Lindenfeld, and turn it into a fortress," her husband mused.

"And–""Hold on," Laura interrupted, horrified.

"What?" He shrugged.

"It would be the easiest way to keep everyone here safe for the time being. I could raise walls, centralize command, coordinate–""You're not 'securing' our village," she demanded, her mind still reeling from the implications of her husband's actual power. Not that I could actually keep him from doing whatever he wants. I don't think anyone could. Daniel gave her a blank look.

"Should we just let our neighbors die? The only people I can reasonably protect right now, other than you three?"

"Of course not. But think what will happen if you take over. You'll be… a warlord," she sighed. Another blank look.

"Well, yes. That's how it goes." Ah.

"Wait, we're talking past each other. I don't think we disagree in principle."

"What do you mean?"

"It's obvious that you are the most qualified person to deal with all this, on a tactical level," she explained.

"You should raise walls. You should centralize command. But it's all about framing." She gave him a few moments to respond, but he remained quiet. Confused, even.

"Let's take the walls, for example. How would you have gone about that?"

"The main wall along the old field road, facing the forest. Then along the river, to the old quarry, and looping around the village from there. Three gates. Wards once I have the materials."

"And I'm sure that is a very sound plan, not that I could actually evaluate it. But what about the people inside the walls?"

"They'll be safe."

"Sure. They'll also be your prisoners."

"They can come and go as they please."

"Through checkpoints at the gates, I assume?"

"Of course. We can't allow redcaps in."

"So, you would effectively be controlling access to their homes, as a tremendously powerful, universally disliked overlord. You said it yourself – you only have five to ten years."

"I get the point, Laura, but what else am I supposed to do? We are out of time."

"Let me help."

"... How?"

"I'll come up with something tomorrow. Just… give me until noon, I'll figure it out," she promised. Daniel easily accepted.

"Sure. I'll be busy anyway. Goblin cleanup, then I'll take the kids to the city, and see if I can find something that qualifies as armor. Motorcycle wear, sports protection, hunting gear. Ah, can you give me some jewelry?"

"What for?"

"Improvising something for spell defense. I need rings or necklaces with gems." Laura opened her drawer, pulling out her personal treasures.

"They're not going to… break, right?"

"If anything, they'll be shinier than ever." Oh well. She handed him one of the rings she inherited from her grandmother, an ancient, beautiful gold signet with a large white topaz. Daniel cleared some space on the night table and set it down. Then, he formed a triangle with his thumbs and index fingers and looked through it as if they were a magnifying glass. A halo of blue light appeared around the ring. It contracted more and more, until it sank into the gold.

The topaz briefly lit up like a lightbulb, then dimmed down to a soft glimmer.

"Here," he said, handing the ring back to her. She immediately inspected it. ~ Improvised Ring of Magic Defense ~ MD+1"MD?"

"The equivalent of armor against magical elements," he explained.

"Since this ring is mundane by nature, it does not give magic defense by itself, like most jewelry in the other world did. So, I forced an enchantment on it. It's… not optimal, and I'll have to recharge it every few days, but it should do the job for now."

"So, I wear this, and fireballs hurt less?"

"Exactly." Laura gave up rummaging through her hoard, pulled out the entire drawer, and dumped its contents on the bed.

"Here. All yours." He looked up.

"Thanks, but I only need eight rings and four necklaces. The system accepts one ring per hand and one amulet in total. More than that won't have any effect other than looking fancy."

"Then pick the ones you think are best," she shrugged.

"And make sure the ones for Kai don't look too feminine or he won't wear them." While Daniel worked, she sat down on the bed next to him, then slowly slumped back.

"So, you were actually gone for forty-eight years."

"Unfortunately yes."

"But for us, only a week passed."

"I don't think even a second passed," he mumbled.

"When I got back, the first thing I saw was the sidewalk where I collapsed. Then came the coma. Soul trauma, probably."

"You barely remembered anything other than our names. The doctors thought it was brain damage."

"Do you think anyone would have believed me?" Laura desperately wanted to say 'yes', but she couldn't. Her silence was answer enough for her husband.

"I'd have ended up in a mental hospital. Even more time without my family. Not happening," he said quietly. For a while, neither of them spoke. Then, Laura gathered her courage for a question.

"How many people did you kill over there?" Daniel froze.

"... Do you really want to know?"

"Yes." He turned to look at her, and she instantly regretted asking. In his eyes was a hint of the coldness and distance he had shown earlier, but they paled next to the crushing emptiness in his expression.

"I can only give you approximations. Face to face? Hundreds. As a war mage, killing indiscriminately with large-scale rituals?" he laughed bitterly.

"Thousands. Tens of thousands." And still, Laura felt like he wasn't telling her everything. She sat up and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you for coming back."