"Commander, what are you…" Ward started, but Albert raised a hand to stop him.
"Oy, you should really ask for our consent first before you make decisions," Claes interjected with a frown, crossing his arms.
Albert glanced around. Villagers were still busy, some glancing in their direction but too occupied preparing for evacuation to listen closely. He motioned with a tilt of his head toward a quieter corner behind one of the storage barns.
"Both of you, come with me. Now."
The three slipped away from the square, their boots crunching over the dirt path until they reached the shaded side of the barn, out of earshot from the villagers. Albert folded his arms, his voice low but firm.
"Alright, listen up. I know what you're both thinking," he began. "Yes, this is risky, and yes, we don't even fully understand what we're up against. But this isn't just about playing hero for some backwater village."
Ward raised an eyebrow. "Then what's it about?"
Albert's gaze hardened. "It's a win-win situation. If we help them survive, we gain their trust, and with that trust, we get information. Right now, these people know far more about this world than we do. Geography, politics, economy. But they're cautious. They won't share everything with strangers unless we prove ourselves first."
Ward nodded slowly, understanding. "So, we protect them, build credibility, and they'll start opening up."
"Exactly," Albert said. "We need allies, not just in manpower but in knowledge. These villagers are our first step to building a map of how this world works. Without intel, we're blind."
Claes exhaled, shaking his head. "That's great and all, but you're missing one thing, we don't even know what the hell we're up against. These aren't humans with rifles or explosives. They're monsters. Goblins, for crying out loud. We don't know their biology, tactics, or even if they can be killed by bullets."
Albert's eyes narrowed slightly. "Which is why before we make any defensive plans, I'll ask Harvin for every bit of information they have on these things, their strengths, weaknesses, behavior, whatever they can tell us."
Claes still looked unconvinced. "You're talking about folklore creatures, not insurgents. What if they have resistance to metal rounds, or worse, magic? We're walking in blind."
Albert gave him a firm look. "Major, when have we not walked into the unknown? Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia, all of it started the same. We adapt fast or die trying. This isn't different. The rules of engagement might've changed, but the principle stays the same, find the threat, study it, neutralize it."
Claes grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still feels like a bad bet."
Ward gave a small shrug. "Could be. But if they're right about the goblin horde, it's coming tonight whether we act or not. We might as well control the fight instead of waiting for it to hit us."
Albert nodded. "Exactly. And there's another angle."
Both men looked at him curiously.
Albert smirked faintly. "Harvin said they posted a request to the Adventurer's Guild, right? That means there's a reward attached. Payment."
Claes blinked. "Wait, you're saying we're taking this like a contract?"
Albert's smirk widened slightly. "Why not? If we're stuck here, we'll need local currency. We don't know what they use for trade, gold, silver, whatever, but having some on hand gives us leverage. We can use it to buy supplies, hire guides, or exchange it for information."
Ward nodded, eyes lighting up with the idea. "That's actually smart. We'd basically be integrating into the system without raising suspicion."
Claes frowned but slowly came around. "So, you're saying we're about to become mercenaries again, just in another world."
Albert gave him a small grin. "Looks that way. Atlas always adapts."
Ward chuckled under his breath. "And technically, it's not charity work. We'll fight, get paid, and gain intel."
"Exactly," Albert said.
Claes sighed, rubbing his temples. "Fine. You've made your point, Commander. Just don't expect me to start believing in magic and goblin curses anytime soon."
Albert gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "You don't have to believe in it, Major. You just have to kill whatever walks toward us when the sun goes down."
Claes smirked slightly. "That part, I can do."
"Good," Albert said, straightening. "Now, I'm going to speak with the village elder and confirm the contract."
The three walked back to where Harvin was standing.
"So, just like I said now, we are going to take the contract. How much was it posted?"
Harvin blinked, visibly taken aback by Albert's words.
"You mean… you're truly accepting the request?" he asked, his voice carrying disbelief. "You would defend our village against the goblin horde?"
Albert nodded firmly. "That's right. You said earlier that you posted a request through the Adventurer's Guild. We'll take it."
"…Very well," the old man said at last, nodding slowly. "If you insist on accepting it, we should speak formally. Come to my hall. I'll tell you all about the monsters you are to exterminate."
Albert inclined his head. "Lead the way."
Harvin turned, hobbling forward toward a sturdy building near the center of the village.
As they walked, Albert turned briefly to his men. "Ward, have Atlas hold position around the square. Defensive stance, low profile. I don't want the villagers panicking."
"Copy that, Commander," Ward replied, already signaling the Atlas operators with precise hand motions. They fanned out methodically two near the well, one at the east entrance, another on overwatch from a hayloft. Their rifles remained slung, but eyes sharp.
Albert then glanced toward Claes. "Major, same deal. Keep your Marines outside."
Claes gave a curt nod. "Understood. Marines, perimeter lockdown. Two-man fire teams. Stay frosty."
"Aye, sir!" came the crisp reply from his men.
With both units moving smoothly into position, Albert followed Harvin into the hall. The door creaked open, revealing a modest but organized space, tables, shelves of parchment scrolls, and a map stretched across one wall.
"Please, have a seat," Harvin said, gesturing toward a heavy oak table near the hearth. "This is where we conduct all official business. I'll divulge every information necessary to help you defend our village."
Albert sat, resting his elbows on the table. "Alright then, Elder. Let's make it official. What's the posted bounty for this contract?"
Harvin flipped open a leather-bound ledger, its pages yellowed with age. "Let me see… ah, here." He traced a wrinkled finger along the entry. "The Aldo request: 'Defense against approaching goblin horde.' The reward posted was one gold crown."
"Okay, how much is that worth? We are unfamiliar with the currency system of this world."
"A gold crown could buy ten sacks of grain, a full-grown ox, or a set of armor forged by a blacksmith from the capital. A merchant could travel half a year on that coin alone if he spent wisely. It's the largest denomination in circulation, most trade is done with silver or copper. A gold crown is reserved for nobles, guild commissions, or kingdom contracts."
Ward whistled quietly behind Albert. "So it's like a brick of gold back home."
"Something like that," Albert murmured. He tapped the table lightly, thinking. "And that's the bounty for the whole defense? Just one gold crown?"
Harvin nodded grimly. "Aye. Even so, not a single adventurer has come to answer the request. It's been posted for a week already."
Albert frowned. "Why not? With a payout that valuable, you'd expect people to line up."
The old man sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Because gold is useless to the dead. Goblin hordes have destroyed entire villages before, some ten times our size. Adventurers may be greedy, but they're not suicidal."
"Even if that's the case, there'd be some who will take the quest. Just increase the bounty."
"We can't, because that's the largest we can come up with," Harvin replied. "Any more than that would be like squeezing our coffers dry."
Albert hummed in thought. "I understand, our decision will not change. We are going to take the job."