“Dis is so salty,” Izabele says as she chews a bite of some dried meat, a staple food source for many travelers.

Rathos, smiling sadly next to her, extends his arm and pulls his daughter to him, his eyes looking towards the campfire in front of them both,” I know Iza, I know.” he says, turning to her, finding many of his late wife's features on her face,” it’s only until we can get to our new home.”

Iza frowns but takes another bite of the meat.

Rathos holds back his tears, remembering how Izabele had been forced to leave her friends at the kingdom, not even allowed to say goodbye or risk being tracked by [spies]. It was hard for him, but his daughter’s safety is of utmost importance.

At that moment, Henrietta comes by with a glass of water and sits behind Izabelle, her arms going around the young [Noble] girl, hugging her closely,” Iza, don’t just eat meat, you should get some veggies and dried fruits in your belly as well.”

Izabelle looks at her plate filled with fruits and vegetables. She frowns.

“She’s right Iza,” Rathos speaks up, his smile radiating strongly in the light of the fire.

Listening to her father, Iza slowly nods and grabs some fruit, nibbling on it slowly.

Rathos relaxes, watching his daughter as she accepts the glass of water from Henrietta, an old fox demihuman which had been his wife's most trusted servant… granted, every servant his wife had, though considered slaves, is extremely trustworthy.

Rathos looks around, watching the other demihuman slaves, those that had been helped by his wife, now follow them to a new home. They sit around fires, some chatting with the [mercenaries], other’s chatting with each other. But they all have high spirits.

As Rathos amuses himself watching his daughter eat, getting scolded by Henrietta for eating so much meat, a skill of his activates, a seemingly throbbing headache towards a direction.

The skill, [Imminent Threat], a skill which activates at the onset of an attack, which he had used specifically to counter attacks by enemy armies.

Rathos immediately gets up, activating his [Enhanced Voice] skill.

AMBUSH

Like a wave of force, his voice strikes the minds of the entire camp, immediately eliciting movement.

Unlike the [Loud Voice] skill which makes you louder, the [Enhanced Voice] skill allows one to utilize their aura to project intentions, usually to small groups. But a [General] can do so towards an entire army.

Immediately the [Mercenaries] mount their horses, eyes scanning the woods while the demihumans run towards the protection of the carriages. Two large bear demihumans, Rathos’s [Guards] immediately run towards Henrietta who has picked up a panicked Izabelle and carries her towards their carriage. Once inside, the two bear Demihumans, glinting in steel armor, unsheathe their swords and shields, blocking the entrance to the carriage.

Nodding towards them, Rathos watches as Gen comes closer on horseback, the young man looks ready, clearly having grown up in the years to come.

“Rathos, what's the situation? You called an ambush?”

Rathos nods, his eyes turning towards the location his skill is activating towards… and considering the strength,” large enemy force, I would guess a hundred strong.”

Gen turns towards the location Rathos is gazing,” Do you know how long?”

Rathos Shakes his head,” No, but not too long, especially considering they probably have a [scout]”

A smile forms on Gens' face,” What's the plan [General]?”

Rathos turns towards the [ Mercenaries], all of which are on horseback.

He activates his [Silent Analyze] skill, looking into their levels, and nods slowly.

“We will wait. Unless they have a high level [Archer], they will need to get out of the woods and into a closer position to strike at us, so I need you to hide about half your mercenaries behind the carts and carriages.”

Gen nods and immediately orders his mercenaries hidden.

About a couple minutes later, a large swarm of people exits the woods.

[Bandits], about a hundred of them, dirty and bedraggled, they walk forward, brandishing their unsheathed low-quality weapons.

At the front of the group is a [Bandit Leader], a rather dangerous class known for being very underhanded in a fight.

The leader walks forward, his frame seen in the firelight. A large man, his face scarred and hair messy, he walks confidently forward as he unsheathes a large battleax, glinting menacingly from the moonlight.

The [Bandit Leader] looks towards the group, noticing a rugged [trader] and about twenty mercenaries on horseback.

A smile blazes on his lip,” Well, look wat we has here,” the [Bandit Leader] exclaims, his teeth yellow and disfigured due to lack of care.

The leader scratches his beard, eyes staring hungrily at the sacks of supplies on the wagons.

He flicks his hand, [Bandits] trained in archery come forward, unsheathing their bows.” It be a wee bit unsettlin, with you knowing were I be. I was pretty sure me man was nat seen.”

The [Bandit Leader] looks towards his men,” Gessan,” he calls, immediately having a young mouse demihuman come forward, fear evident on his face as he looks up to his leader,” I swear on me mum's grave, I’s not seen.

The bandit leader shakes his head.

With a burst of speed, the [Bandit Leader] yells “[Axe Throw]”, which causes his ax to fly through the air and impale the [Bandits] chest with impressive speed.

Rathos just watches calmly, finding the threat of violence not demoralizing at all.

A pathetic display to cause fear, to make us panic. On top of that, that skill probably has a long reuse time, probably longer than this battle will last.

The leader walks towards the corpse and rips his ax out, his eyes turning towards Rathos. A bloodthirsty smile on his face. And then the level 76 [Bandit Leader] activates a skill called [Killers Smile], an aura skill whose intents and purpose is to cause fear and uncertainty towards the enemy, but requires a fresh kill to activate.

The aura, invisible to the naked eye, travels the thirty meters between them and then the aura strikes Rathos, a feeling of fear takes him and the [Mercenaries] on horseback.

But that only lasts for a moment, at which point Rathos’s own aura, a [Generals] aura, expands out from him, easily eliminating the [Bandit Leaders] skill, ripping it apart like wet paper.

Immediately the [Mercenaries] relax, their eyes focusing as a sense of power and courage emanates into them from Rathos. A few of the mercenaries look at [Rathos] confusedly, a man they had expected to be but a wealthy [Trader].

The [Bandit Leaders] face takes on a frown as he notices that his skill did absolutely nothing. A skill which he had used several times with great effect against even a large force.

Rathos just folds his arms, eyes glazing past the pathetic [Bandits]. Other than the leader, the bandits are barely level twenty, maybe one or two of them are in their thirties, but overall, the enemy force is extremely weak.

“Pathetic” Rathos says tauntingly, his words carrying the distance with seeming ease.

Snarling angrily, the [Bandit Leader] screams and runs towards the caravan, arrows quickly leave the strings of those [bandits] with bows while all of the others run forwards with their leader, a crazed glint in their eyes.

Do not engage.

Rathos says with his aura, focusing it only on the [Mercenaries]

“[Steel Skin]” Rathos says, activating a defensive skill, one which extends to those protected by his aura.

The thing that makes [Generals] so feared and powerful is a unique ability prevalent to them. They are one of the very few classes that can utilize single target skills on a mass scale. So something like [Steel Skin], which for a moment strengthens the skin of an individual, can have the effect activate on others, even entire armies if the [General] is good enough.

The arrows strike the [Mercenaries], bouncing off harmlessly while Rathos side steps, easily avoiding the arrows with an expert movement of someone who has a massive amount of experience in combat, the arrows moving slowly against his trained eyes.

Rathos waits, holding his hand up, waiting as the [Bandits] get far enough from the forest.

Twenty-five meters.

Twenty meters

Fifteen meters

Attack the [Bandits], Leave the leader alone.

The order comes in like a wave, and Gen, hiding behind with his [Mercenaries], activates several skills in quick succession.

“[Riders Calm], [Riders Sprint], [Riders Footing], [Charging Sprint]”

Like a gunshot, all of the horses charge forwards at incredible speeds, the wind whipping at their faces as the [mercenaries] blaze forward, ramming into the charging [Bandits] from all sides, completely breaking whatever little organization they have had.

Rathos just watches, slightly amazed at the sheer organization of Gen’s men, but even more so with Gen himself. As a [General] who has had several [Cavalry Captain’s] under his command. The officers would usually have about a hundred mounted [Soldiers] at their command with at least one or two skills that assist in making the mounted soldier more effective.

But four is extremely rare and impressive. Any [general] would be proud to have such an individual with such a skill set.

What Gen is doing is splitting his forces, striking with speed and precision from several sides, each time taking several lives and leaving before a counterattack can be done.

The [Bandit Leader] is no exception as he runs towards a [Mercenary], only to find them moving away from him, circling around and striking at the backs.

Three of the [Mercenaries] can be seen far towards the treeline, quickly killing off the [Bandits] with bows.

Rathos walks forward confidently, his aura blazing forth from him, applying a mental pressure on the [Bandits], making them panic while also slowing their movements.

At this point, the [Bandit Leader] finally notices Rathos, calmly walking forward, a contemplative look on his face.

Angered, the [Bandit Leader] immediately charges out of the dwindling bandit group and runs straight for Rathos.

Gen, noticing this, attempts to intercept, but stops as Rathos shakes his head.

Rathos stops, watching as the leader gets closer and closer.

At ten feet between the [Bandit Leader] and himself, Rathos activates two skills at once, whispering them beneath his breath.

“[Accelerated Strike], [Accelerated Mind],”

The world slows around Rathos as his body accelerates forward.

He activates two magical items on his person. An enchanted ring with the effect [Blink Step], allowing him to teleport a very short distance in a direction. A very useful skill to survive [Assassins]. The other item is actually the sheath to his sword with the effect [Instant iaido], a rather weird name for an amazing skill which allows him to unsheath and strike faster than when his sword is already out.

Thus, his form disappears and reappears in front of the [Bandit Leader], whose eyes widen as he attempts to activate a defensive skill, unfortunately, Rathos arm blurs, creating a sonic boom as his enchanted sword flicks out and removes the [Bandit Leaders] head in an instant.

Re-sheathing his sword, Rathos looks towards the battle, finding that the panicked [Bandits] are on the run and in full retreat… unfortunately, Rathos aura is still slowing them down, making the already fast [Mercenaries] catch up and finish them off with ease.

Overall, no death was reported through a few cuts and bruises can be seen on the mercenaries, one of which has a relatively large gash on his side, but he is already using a healing potion on the wound, something that is exceptionally expensive to buy as it requires rare ingredients and a high level [Alchemist] class just to produce.

Gen walks forward, his smile bordering on ripping his face open.

“So [General], how did we do?”

Rathos takes a look at Gen who is covered in sweat while his horse isn't even out of breath, a testament to the impressive breed of battlemare.

“Pathetic,”

Gens smile widens further, something Rathos believed wasn’t possible.

Rolling his eyes, Rathos points behind him,” You completely left the caravan alone, not even leaving any of your men to defend it. If there was even a small force coming from another direction, I fear many innocence would have died because of your carelessness.”

Gens face immediately takes a complete one-eighty, realizing the error of his ways. In truth, Gen had wanted to impress Rathos, to show how powerful his group really is, how effective they truly are. His pride and joy [Mercenary] band.

Gens' shoulders sag as he looks towards the caravan, finding that in truth, he could have cost many lives.

*Sigh*,” Other than that, your offensive was expertly done.” Rathos continues, his head looking towards the [Mercenaries] as they kill off wounded [Bandits] and strip them of their possessions.

At his words, Gens smile returns, only to immediately be replied by a scowl from Rathos.

“Your aura is shit,” Rathos quickly adds, having noticed the huge weakness to the mercenary group.

Half smiling, Gen places his hand on the back of his head, a goofy smile on his face.

“Well… yea, but I have the skill [Riders Calm]-”

“Which is no excuse to have a pathetic aura.” Rathos interrupts.

“Your skill is temporary, and the moment it's gone, your [Mercenaries] will panic, making your entire tactic useless.”

Nervous, Gen looks away to Rathos, finding that his men have started looting,” I’ll uhh, go help my men.”

And with those last words, Gen’s horse moves towards the dead bodies, Rathos eyes staring at the young man as he escapes his former mentors gaze, a gaze accompanied by a now proud smile.

____

An hour later and the sun set’s lower, the caravan recreates their camp at another clearing. The reason is that of the blood. The smell of blood is so prevalent that it will attract both monsters and beasts. And normally, for their group, it would not be a problem considering how close they are towards the borderlands, a place known for lacking any good resources and having the average level to be within the single digits. Even the monsters and beast’s are extremely weak with levels averaging at around 13 or 14. Regardless, it is better to be cautious.

Remaking the camp was a quick affair and Rathos finds himself in the same situation before the attack, sitting with his daughter. Except for this time, a barrel of beer was opened and many of the [Mercenaries] are indulging with gusto, including his people as well.

“Do you know if they were after you?” Henrietta asks, her arms carefully around Izabelle who is doing her best to stay awake, constantly wiping her sleepy eyes.

Rathos shakes his head,” No, such a force is too weak to be sent to stop me. We were merely at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Henrietta goes silent, her eyes watching one of the drunk mercenaries as he attempts to flirt with one of her maids. The maid in question, Anessa, a young looking cat demihuman, acts uninterested even though her tail swishes in excitement.

“Coooo”

A soft sound interrupts Henrietta’s musings as she notices that Izabelle, Nafisa’s daughter, has fallen asleep in her lap.

Silently nodding towards her master, the fox demihuman lifts up the child with ease and takes her to the carriage, opening the door with one hand and entering. She slowly places the child on the seat, laying her down, admiring the looks so similar to her mistress… and former lover.

Utilizing her skill [Delicate Touch], the head [Maid] strips the young mistress of her clothing and immediately puts on sleeping clothes. All of this was done extremely quickly, accurately, and without waking Isabelle up.

Once done, she extends a compartment of the seat, doubling its size, and allowing her to get in next to Izabelle. Her arms wrap around the young girl as she takes a relaxed whiff of Izabelle’s hair, enjoying the same aroma that her mother has had.

_____

Rathos watches as Henrietta carries his daughter into the carriage, happy to have such a trustworthy and capable servant to take care of his daughter.

As she disappears into the carriage, Rathos takes a long deep breath and stands up, quickly eyeing the mercenaries until he finds Gen, sitting alone, watching his men get drunk.

Gen, noticing Rathos approach, smiles sadly.

“Yah know, you were right Roth. I made a mistake and now I am paying for it,” Gen says, eyeing the barrel of alcohol longingly.

Rathos mouth twitches, wanting to comfort the man… but there are better ways.

“Oh really, so you are punishing yourself by not taking a drink?” Rathos asks, getting a nervous nod from Gen who immediately notices the unhappy tone in Rathos’ voice.

“Really now, and I was almost under the impression you just wanted to have a clear mind for the training?”

Gen, confused, finally looks at his former mentor.

“Training?” Gen asks confused.

Before Gen can react, a massive weight slams into his psyche, forcing his breathing quicken. Realizing what the training is all about, Gen attempts to call up his aura, weakening the effect Rathos has over him.

Gen forces a smile, impressed that even though he called up his aura to defend himself, he can still feel Rathos’ aura impeding his body.

“Pathetic.”

Gen loses control of his body as he falls on the ground, his aura utterly shattered as he starts to puke excessively, his body shaking in shock.

“It seems, this will be a long night,” the [General] exclaims.

Gen shivers in fear as he realizes that the training has only but begun.

*********************

With a twist, Franky lifts up his shield, allowing the opposing [soldiers] sword to glide down its length, allowing him to pivot his hips and strike out towards [Soldiers] exposed side, but unfortunately, the [Soldier] jumps back, avoiding the wooden sword.

But Franky was waiting for that as he jumps forward, placing all of his weight into his right arm as he bashes the [Soldier], forcing the man on the ground.

With a quick movement, Franky places his sword next to the man's neck.

“I yield,” the [Soldier] yells.

“Admirable job [Hero]. It has only been a few days and already you are improving exponentially.”

Franky ignored the voice and instead drops his sword, grabbing the downed [Soldiers] hand and lifting the man to his feet.

“That was a truly fantastic fight. You almost had me throughout that fight.”

The [Soldier], just one of the men who protect the city Aesir, smiles happily.” Nonsense lad, you defended against me splendidly. That move you did with your shield was exceptionally timed.

Franky shakes his head,” It was a gamble. If you had dodged, then I would be the on the ground.”

“Master Franky,” the voice calls out behind him.

Rolling his eyes in view of the Soldier,” Franky turns around, finding a lanky man in a robe who is clearly forcing smile on his face.

The older [soldier] taps Frankie's shoulder,” I will put the weapons away. If you need any advice, feel free to ask and we will be more than happy to assist you.” The [soldier] explains, talking about himself and the others which have been watching the fight. All of which have found Frankie's rise in power amazing, but even more so at how respectful the man has been.

Franky turns his head and smiles towards the soldier, nodding gratefully.

And then a frown forms on his face as he looks back towards the lanky man, barely holding a smile on his face.

“What is it Bernard,” Franky exclaims, removing the padding from his body.

Bernard, a [Archpriest] of Aesir, continues his smile even though his eyes exclaim anything but,” You really should get tutoring from a [general] instead of these, ”Bernard extends his hand, pointing at the older experienced [Soldiers] Franky had asked to train him, ”veterans. They clearly can't possibly be that good considering that they are only [soldiers], a very low-quality common class.”

Franky forces down the anger rising in him as he remembers the words of his friend Quasi… doing his best to remember the man's advice about summonings.

I really should have believed him. But how was I supposed to know that when he said he was a professional summoned hero, that he wasn't joking with me. Damnit. Regardless, I do remember him telling me to never trust those who summon me, that they will always attempt to control me. He also said to stay respectful and milk the summoners resources.

“Skills, I have gained a few, but they are still no excuse for proper training. The soldiers which you dislike so much have seen battle, have fought and survived, something I find lacking in your [General’s] who attempt to teach me battle tactics without even showing me the basics. They clearly only have the class and not the levels.” Franky explains, removing the last of his padded armor.

Without waiting for a reply, Franky walks towards the courtyards exit.

The lanky man immediately runs next to him, his body far smaller than Frankies who is sporting six and a half feet of height, blond hair, and a weight of two hundred fifty pounds, all of which is due to the sheer size in musculature.

At one time in his life, Franky used to be a typical Jock, respected, loved, and the star of the football team. But then he met Quasi and found his life-changing dramatically to the better. So much so that when he was offered to play professional football, Franky had declined, preferring to get a job less likely to result in brain injury.

“May I ask where master Franky is going because the usual sermons will begin soon and your acquaintances are there too.”

The acquaintances Bernard is talking about are the other three [Heroes], all of which seem to be more than happy to do whatever is told to them.

And that's why they have leveled so poorly. Barely getting any level in any class.

With a mental command, Frankie's interface appears on his screen, revealing his classes, skills, and stats.

 

The others have barely one class over level ten while I already have two, one of which has exceeded level twenty. Granted, gaining more than one level in a day is almost unheard of by the residents of this world unless it’s a huge battle or gifted by the gods.

The Gods. The words put a bad taste in my mouth when I remember what Quasi warned me about. ‘Unless you make the Gods sign a contract, never ever fucking trust them. They will rip open your anus the first chance they get’

Franky chuckles softly, breaking the silence.

“Master Franky?”

“Bernard, I will be training with Matilda tonight, do go in my place,”

A dark look falls upon Bernard as he remembers Matilda, an old retired dungeon diver.

“I find it very wrong for a [Hero] to be learning from a [Witch]. Would it not be better to learn from an [Archmage]?”

In truth, Franky had tried to learn from these men and women who had gained over a hundred levels in the mage class but was unable to suffer the sheer pompous ignorance of such men and women who think themselves so superior.

“Bernard, when one of the other three [Heroes] starts gaining more levels than me in a magic class, then please inform me. Otherwise, Matilda will be fine for my purposes.”

Bernard stops walking, watching as the [Hero] strolls through the halls, heading towards the bath before he leaves towards the Diver guild.