The Bond's Call
'No…' Ashen caught himself, 'I can't just blindly believe anyone simply because they're strong and intimidating.'
He mentally chastised himself before asking the general, "Sir, what if the empire is just confusing us with lies? I don't remember us being on friendly terms… not enough to trust them, at least."
He added with more conviction, "In fact, what are the chances that they are the true culprits behind this Veiled Moon cult, and this is just a charade to sow discord among us?"
The general bitterly shook his head. "It would have been a hundred times better if that were actually the case. Maybe then we'd unite for once."
His eyes drifted upwards, trying to imagine a scene that could only exist in fantasy.
"The Veiled Moon operated within the human race before the empire even formed. They worship unknown gods that have nothing to do with any race, and wreak havoc even amongst demi-humans."
With a practiced motion, he reached into his coat pocket and drew out a slim silver case.
He plucked a cigarette from it, turning it between his fingers as if it were a relic rather than a vice. A soft click followed, the flare of his lighter painting brief gold lines across the creases of his face.
"When the system blessed us with its presence once again…" He drew in. "The cult's activities suddenly massively expanded." Then exhaled with a sigh that carried more history than breath.
"The problem wasn't their sudden increase in power; it was the fact that they even gained power. That was irrefutable proof of their human identities, since only humanity had access to the system..."
"Where was I... ah, yes." He murmured, smoke curling upward. "About the possibility of this being outside sabotage—we believe the demi-humans aren't behind it simply because if we humans die, they'll follow right after."
Ashen was confused for a second before it clicked. 'The Narkals.'
The general shot him a sardonic smile. "From the look on your face, I can guess you figured it out."
He reached for the bottle at the corner of the table and poured a measure into a tin cup.
"The Narkal threat isn't ours alone—it's also theirs, we share the burden, even if unwillingly. In fact, I'd bet it's far more threatening to them than us right now."
"Why is that, Sir?" Ashen asked, dubious. He'd seen their power firsthand; those three elves could wipe out their whole division if they tried.
The general took a sip. "That's, of course, once again, thanks to humanity's greatest creation and most precious miracle: the System."
He tapped the cigarette against the ashtray. "Even though its sudden comeback plunged the human race into chaos and hedonism,"
"...Even though it allowed the Veiled Moon to sink its teeth into our flesh during that chaos, we can never deny that the power it gives is… real."
A gust tugged at the tent's canvas, making the lamp flicker.
"Not only is it real, but also necessary to our continued survival. We wouldn't have held on for a hundred years more without it."
Ashen remained skeptical, but didn't say anything since it wasn't his place to compare racial power when he was just at the bottom.
The general still picked up on the skepticism, however, and lightly chuckled. "Otherwise, why would you think those three relics didn't dare come here, even though no one was strong enough to scare them?"
Now that he thought about it... Ashen widened his eyes. "You mean...?"
The older man nodded. "The system gave birth to the Sin Lords—Transcendents of absolute power. One such entity presides over the Wrath Domain. They would never be completely brazen, no matter how powerful they are."
He smirked. "Because our supreme commander, Mrs. Arde, is one such person."
'Her.' Ashen found it was somehow obvious with all the clues now that he thought about it. 'I always thought she was a big shot, but never this big.'
"Alright, you can go back now. Keep everything you heard to yourself, is that clear?" The general clapped his hands.
Ashen stood. "Yes, sir."
But as he reached the flap of the tent, he turned around, hesitated, then asked, "General, sir, about the Astrologer..."
The moment the word 'Astrologer' left Ashen's mouth, the old man's face turned instantly rigid, his aged eyes showing deep fear that he tried, and failed, to hide.
Ashen regretted asking the moment he saw his reaction. 'Who would have known that a simple word would cause such a reaction...'
"Forget about that. Even I don't know anything about it." The moment he found his voice again, the general spoke plainly, his fingers absentmindedly brushing an old scar near his collarbone.
"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir." Ashen didn't waste time leaving under that oppressive atmosphere.
⛧
As Ashen headed back to his tent with a mind full of thoughts, he was suddenly 'kidnapped' by Paul.
Their destination was surprisingly a large tent capable of housing at least ten men at once, probably bought from one of the merchants at the permanent camp.
Warm light spilled from the seams, and even from outside, Ashen could hear the muffled sounds of laughter and conversation.
As they entered, a wave of warmth hit him, both literal and figurative.
The temperature inside was noticeably higher than the cold night air outside, maintained by a small heating magic circle in the corner that someone must have splurged on.
The scent of cheap alcohol mingled with sweat and leather, overlaid with something far more precious: the smell of camaraderie.
They were met with smiling faces and chuckles here and there, which surprised Ashen more than he would have liked to admit. Six people were already gathered inside, lounging on bedrolls and camp chairs arranged in a rough circle.
'I guess I really got used to the constant gloomy faces here.' He thought in self-deprecation.
The moment he and Paul entered, everyone's attention turned to them, enthusiastically welcoming Ashen.
"Aha! If it isn't the lucky guy who survived a whole two days as a scout? What an honor!"
Jake, also a close comrade and friend to Ashen and Paul, greeted first.
"Shut up, man. I'm starting to suspect that you actually want me to kick the bucket." Ashen fired back. "Did I make you lose a bet by surviving or what?"
Jake froze for a second before he took a big gulp from his booze cup. "What are you talking about? I'd never do that to a dear comrade!"
All he got was a deadpan stare from everyone present. He was known as the most compulsive gambler among their circle of friends, but no one took real offense to his antics since they knew it was mostly for embodying his Greed pathway.
A tall woman with long dark hair and a scar running across her chin moved toward Ashen, draping a hand across his shoulder and handing him a big mug of booze.
"C'mon, sweetie, today we're celebrating your survival from almost impossible odds! Even though this has become more of a common occurrence at this point..." She mumbled at the end, but Ashen still heard her.
His deadpan look turned to her. "Just say that you were looking for an excuse to get drunk and have sex without shame."
But then he let out a smirk and took the mug, downing it in one gulp. "Well, whatever. Everyone has their vices, I guess."
The woman, Donna, let out a sheepish laugh and raised both hands as if she'd been caught. "Hey! At least I can still be considered harmless compared to that damn gambling addict! That guy can make bets on anything, I tell you, even his own mother isn't spared."
Everyone in the room laughed at Jake's expense. He had a sour face, remembering some of his past questionable actions.
Ashen laughed along, letting go of his worries for once.
"But, Donna, Jake is at least right on one point. Our dear leader's luck is exceptional. Being able to survive at every turn where most of us thought he was already done for, with just a couple of wounds and scratches."
Kalista, the woman with bob-cut hair who'd been silent until now, interjected.
"I still remember how he got himself surrounded by more than fifty Narkals to save Paul's sorry ass and still managed to get out of that seemingly dead situation with just minor injuries." She added, her tone thick with envy.
Ashen, though, only had a smug grin as a response to her words. If you removed the envious tone, all that remained would be praise. As for her envy, he took it in stride since she was from that pathway.
"True, true..." Everyone started nodding and agreeing, even Ashen nodding along to not be the odd one out—before Paul interrupted the synchronized mood.
"C'mon, ladies, everyone's had his ass saved by Ashen at least once at some point, so no need to single me out." He yawned, then grabbed his own mug and took a seat.
Jake grinned. "Well, yeah, we call him leader for a reason after all."
Ashen shook his head. "Guys, no need to exaggerate. All I did was spar with you a little and give some pointers on how to deal with those monsters. It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal, he says..."
"What a humblebragger..."
"Ashen, just shut up, please."
His friends couldn't stand his irritating attitude and shut him down, while he grinned—most likely doing it on purpose, just to rile them up.
He knew best how valuable his advice was, based solely on how much sweat and blood he'd shed in the dreamscape. This was the fruit of his suffering, and even giving a fraction of it away wouldn't be so willy-nilly.
These individuals gathered here were people that Ashen had judged to be morally upright and loyal enough to associate with.
The months they'd spent together fighting against death and despair made them friends, then eventually turned them into this tight, close-knit group.
Ashen sometimes wondered if he was simply wasting his time with these interactions. They'll eventually die or keep rotting here. Stop caring.
But those thoughts were only his obsessive training side speaking, and his rational mind soon threw these notions out of his head in favor of a more logical view.
If he were alone, he'd never be able to save everyone. He had to look for allies. So the only available path was to forge connections, learn how to interact with others effectively, and grasp people's true nature.
All these things would never have been realized if he'd locked himself up and trained until he turned autistic. The key was balance.
Paul, who sat beside him, nudged him. "C'mon, man, this is your celebration. Why are you spacing out?"
"Just thinking how glad I am to have met such decent people even in this hell." Ashen smiled.
"Ah, shit, that was corny as hell." Paul brushed him off, but he couldn't hide his own smile.
"Haha, well said! I'm also very happy with our little group! C'mon, let's cheer!" Donna raised her mug. "To our bonds!"
Kalista soon followed. "To our survival."
Jake was next. "To our fortune!"
Ashen also lifted his cup. "To our future."
Lastly, it was Paul who raised his. "Well, to our eventual and eternal rest, I guess."
"Way to destroy the mood, Paul." Donna pouted.
Jake still shouted, "Well, who cares! Cheers!"
"CHEERS!"
Everyone gulped their mugs, and the night continued among the jokes and teasings.
Ashen drank with a faint smile as he watched the antics of this budding little family.
But while he watched Donna tease Jake with her backside, egging him on… him getting flustered despite it not being the first or second time she'd done that… he felt something.
"What the fuck—Kh—!"
All eyes turned to him, only to find him suddenly flushed red, with a hand on his crotch area and a flustered expression.
Donna, who was from the Lust pathway, instantly picked up the signs.
"Oh, is our dear leader actually aroused? Do you want me to help?" Her expression instantly turned sultry, thinking she'd finally have the chance to 'prey' on her 'dear' leader.
The others instantly understood what was happening. "Is that your doing, Donna? C'mon, if you're using any skills, stop it. You know Ashen has a very loving girlfriend at home."
"Hey! That's slander! It's not me…."
Ashen, however, had no mind to hear the chatter around him. All his attention was on the bond that linked him to Seraphine, since that link was the source of his sudden arousal.
'Is this minx actually masturbating?'
That was Ashen's first thought since the current sensation wasn't unlike the times when Alice used her hands to get him off.