Chapter 54

A New Home

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Being introduced to so many people at once was quite overwhelming, and it became quickly apparent that I was not good with names. We had everyone introduce themselves in the order that they were lined up. It was the quickest way for us to become acquainted with their names, previous occupations, and find out what other potential skills or general information we could utilize.

Everyone was dressed raggedly in some way. Some had suits that were ripped into pieces—which unfortunately signaled their lack of personal possessions. I pitied all of them.

However, that was going to change now. Every single one of them held useful skills. Medical professionals from Harvard, Engineers from MIT, Botanists, Biologists, scientists, and others who simply had decades of quality experience in their fields. It wasn't just educated people either, there were quite a handful of skilled laborers too—truly skilled, not simply members of their professions. It was intimidating.

Prior to these newcomers, the Community had consisted of individuals who had simply banded together with the will to survive, to carve a home for themselves in a wasteland rife with destruction, chaos, and monsters.

Now, all of this was changing. Of course, I had no doubt that the individuals in front of me shared that same driving motivation. But their expertise would change the very nature of the Community.

We might even be able to bring back a sense of technological modernity to our lives. I knew I wasn't the only one who was craving even the simple return of heating a home or being able to use a shower.

The engineers could restore energy, innovate, and find new ways to utilize the boons of the system to allow us to prosper. The contractors could build new homes, develop stronger defenses, allow us to expand our influence, and prepare for the next phase of the invasion.

The possibilities were simply endless.

And this was only the first set of refugees. At least a dozen more groups would continue filling the ranks of the community.

However, despite my ability to see the big picture being presented, I still couldn't remember a single name.

I looked towards the blonde-haired man—currently wearing hole-covered jeans, a dirty plaid shirt, and a set of tools hanging from a belt—finishing introducing himself. Did he say, Trent or Brent? I thought with internal exasperation.

Well, shit. I was off to a great start. I glanced at Alex, who was currently nodding and listening attentively, whispering each person's name and previous occupations as they introduced themselves.

Welp, there you have it. I sucked at this.

To my credit, I was keeping a tally of each occupation. At least, generally.

Seven individuals who will be working construction with Alejandro and Antonio, if the man ever woke up, I grimaced. Which suddenly made the medical professionals that much more attractive to approach. There were four of them, and maybe one would be able to help Antonio wake from his coma.

A biologist... Who I'm pretty sure was completely ignoring the introductions and staring at Manes—unsurprising considering the absolute absurdity of a massive dog with crystals growing from its neck and body.

Two botanists, who were likely to be assigned to help my father with his farming project.

Then several engineers. An architectural engineer, a civil engineer, a mechanical engineer, an electrical engineer, and even a chemical engineer. The diversity in fields was quite eye-opening. I hadn't realized just how spread out the several engineers would be in their expertise. Their knowledge would be crucial.

Lastly, there were three other individuals. Their jobs weren't as reputable as those mentioned previously, minus the construction contractors, however, I'm sure would prove to be just as vital. Two metalworkers, and a mason. In this case, the metalworkers had years of experience and both held their careers as personal hobbies. They claimed that they could revolutionize our production of metal tools and replace what we've broken up to this point. I was sure that Jackson would appreciate the help—he's been quite overloaded after all.

Then there was the mason, whose eyes lit up as he mentioned his skills and his excitement for the tasks ahead of him.

In total, nineteen individuals. Nineteen people who we'd have to provide homes, food, water, and fulfill all their basic necessities. Yet, somehow, even that would be better than the conditions I heard about at Camp Edward. Food rationing and overcrowding to name a few. I sighed; Reality was not kind.

Luckily, the military convoy had brought a fair amount of supplies with them as well. At least an additional two weeks' worth of food and water. For a little over forty people? It would be enough.

Once introductions finished, Captain Sherman left to attend to whatever duties he seemed earnest to complete with Rick's men. With them gone, we took over managing the new refugees, one of the first things we ended up doing was introducing them into the system.

Some of them were skeptical, others, as it turned out, had already jumped headfirst into the benefits of the system. Even if the military was being cautious, it seemed others were a bit more adventurous.

However, none of them were of any decent level. The highest among them was only level four.

It made sense, after all, they didn’t have a lot of the same opportunities to kill monsters and gain experience as we had. Their only opportunities would have been to work on skills within Camp Edward. While it was an acceptable leveling path, it wasn’t nearly as quick. Killing monsters had a lot of risks but inversely held a lot of rewards. It's understandable that they wouldn't have been able to increase their levels substantially. Level four was still commendable.

I gave Noah the opportunity to introduce everyone to the concept of classes and basic information about the system and what to expect. While some had the wherewithal to already explore the help menus provided by the system, Noah presented a more detailed explanation.

I had Noah display some of his magical prowess, which, unsurprisingly, impressed the refugees. After all, magic was still rather... uncommon. But I imagined it would gain quite a bit of traction over the next few weeks and months. It was impossible to imagine it would take people much longer to embrace the system. It was only a matter of time before we met another group of survivors that had, similarly to us, began leveling rather early on.

Noah’s knowledge of the system and Holy Arc Online immediately became valuable. As the refugees started asking questions, Noah was consistently able to come up with an acceptable answer.

Questions such as the role of classes, how to level, how to gain and use skills, and why the need for the system in the first place. The refugees struggled to take advice from Noah. Their academic and skill-based background made it difficult to 'learn' from someone who was only eighteen. I sympathized though, If I was in their shoes, then having somebody who was significantly younger than me telling me what to do would be quite difficult.

Eventually, all the refugees seemed satisfied due to no small part from myself; and, surprisingly, Rick. I was still going to need to talk to the man later. If he was remaining here in the Community, then I would like to be aware of it. I knew that we would be having a detachment of soldiers living here, however, it hadn't crossed my mind that Rick would be staying with us.

As the refugees acquiesced to the realities of the system, I realized that Noah was rather at explaining the core elements of the system. It was something I’d keep in mind. After all, as of right now only Kevin, Noah, and I were familiar with Holy Arc Online. Surely there were others out there? While it wasn’t a popular game by any stretch, it wasn’t entirely unknown either.

Once everyone settled down, the caravan led by Captain Sherman finished unloading supplies they had brought along with the refugees. One of the trucks had been filled with rather copious amounts of food, water, and the supplies we had requested.

That meant there were ten military-grade water purification pumps. Eight of them were smaller, and portable, however, two larger filtration devices caught my eye. These two were entire freshwater purification systems, nearly four feet tall, and looked designed to handle a substantial load. As soon as I caught sight of them, I knew our water problems would be solved. They were enclosed in a sturdy camo-green color case. When we opened them up there were several cylindrical black containers, likely designed to hold the water.

We might even have enough to use on a much larger crop yield. While I grimaced slightly at the thought of using purified drinking water for crops, I knew that the contaminated water would ruin any yields we wanted to grow anyways. It didn't a high IQ to understand that.

The shipment also contained an additional surprise: A portable solar power station.

I brought that particular surprise up with Captain Sherman.

"You didn't explicitly state it, but the filtration system requires power, and... Well, frankly, there is no power around here, and before you ask, yes, some of the power can be siphoned for other uses, however, you won't be able to use it for anything extensive. Most of the power generated has to be used for the filtration systems and charging the batteries for overnight use. But, if some of those new refugees need some powered tools, we brought some of those along as well."

I smiled, "you're a godsend, Captain Sherman."

And I meant it. Electronic devices were like gold now. After all, only the military had machinery that was protected from the mana wave’s EMP-like effects.

* * *

-Several Hours Later-

"Rick!" I called out. I had finally finished helping the refugees settle in.

Most had some family left behind at Camp Edward that would be joining the community in a few weeks. Likely along with the third or fourth convoy. As such we decided on a policy of two per home—for now, that is. After all, while we could acquire undestroyed homes in the surrounding areas, it was only a matter of time before we ran out of space. At that point, it would be up to our laborers to build new homes. Fortunately, we had plenty of space between houses. They had all been built with fairly large yards, and no one would complain if we took advantage of the open spaces. Any land not used for farmland will be utilized for building more homes.

After all, I wasn’t one to think that spreading everyone out was a good idea. The more compact we were, the safer it would be. In a way, we were returning to the walled cities of the pre-industrial age.

Rick, who had just exited his “command tent” turned around to face me, a smile forming on his face. "I was wonderin' when you'd come calling."

I approached the man, and returned his smile, "you know, when you said that they'd leave some soldiers behind, I hadn't imagined they would have left you," I ventured, looking for some measure of confirmation over my suspicion.

He did not disappoint, "well, as soon as the order was given, it only made sense," Rick responded matter-of-factly.

I raised a brow at the man, "how so?"

"Think about it, over the past week we'd established a fair working relationship with one another. Why risk that by giving the command to someone else? The Colonel shared the same mindset. As of right now, the entire Platoon has been ordered to station themselves here, or at least, nearby, if your group isn't amiable to the situation."

The entire Platoon? My eyes narrowed, and suddenly I was a bit nervous. I hadn't kept track of how many soldiers were with Rick's Platoon, but there must have been at least thirty. That was nearly the size of our group—if we counted our new additions.

Rick caught the shift in my visage though, as he continued, "look, don't worry about the Camp attempting to subvert your authority over the area, we are well aware of our distinction as a military body and don’t intend to do anything but perform our duty for as long as we possibly can. The Colonel is an honorable man, you don’t need to worry. But… the thing is... Some issues have arisen recently that have led to the decision to station more soldiers in the area. Elements that, admittedly, we hadn’t anticipated."

"Rick," I began, "your platoon and Camp Edward have been easy to work with, and I doubt any Community member would be averse to continuing our partnership in the area, however, if there's one thing that's going to need to change, it would be the level of communication going on here. The Community needs to be aware of decisions that will impact our group. Especially if it relates to some type of military operation in the area."

Rick nodded, his eyes looked into mine, sympathy overtaking his face. "Your concerns are warranted, Thomas. I’ll speak with the Colonel."

Satisfied, I continued, "now, what exactly is going on that's motivated Camp Edward to position a portion of its finite resources in the area?"

Rick sighed and turned around slightly facing towards the setting sun. He raised his arm and wiped a glade of sweat from his forehead. I moved forward, positioning myself in front of him once again. "Rick?" I pressed.

The Lieutenant breathed out, then, with exasperation said a word that made me tremble, "bandits."

“Bandits? Out here? I thought you had said there weren't any groups that were as well off as we were... If there are groups that are performing banditry... Then that has to be on an entirely different scale."

"We only encountered them the other day. They’d probably been watching our scouting parties closely and had only more recently made a move. There really isn’t any other explanation for it—it was way too coordinated.”

“This particular operation was supposed to be an isolated scouting mission. A squad was sent out, and an IED went off. The Humvee was disabled, and only a few of the men were able to flee the ensuing gunfire.”

I scowled, if the demons weren’t enough, it looked like the worse of humanity was beginning to raise its ugly head. “That’s terrible Rick,” I attempted to empathize.

He acknowledged me only with a slight nod, and continued, “we sent out some air reconnaissance, and that’s when we discovered the scale of the encampment. There were at least a hundred individuals North of Worcester within the woodlands. From what we’ve seen, the camp encompasses groups of escaped convicts and local gangs that had fled Worcester.”

The color drained from my face, and I replied, “Rick, that’s not something we’re prepared to handle.”

His only response was to look down, a grimace apparent. “Now you should understand why we had made the decision so quickly. We need to secure the area. Shrewsbury presents a significant strategic position. It’s along the Turnpike and has access to the main thoroughfare towards Boston. When the Demon’s resume their advance… It will be a critical juncture for their containment and deploying forces.”

I remained silent, contemplating.

Rick wasn’t exaggerating, that’s for sure. Even I had become aware of the imminent issue of a Demon advance. Luckily, we had time that we could prepare. Information that I had yet to share with the military. Yet… the presence of bandits complicated things considerably, especially considering that they must be close enough to warrant direct military action.

“Just how close are these bandits, Rick?” I asked the man, clearly agitated over the mere idea that we could have fallen prey to thieves and criminals so easily had Rick not found us.

“They’re along the Southern Bay of the Wachusett Reservoir. There’s a small fish hatchery that they have commandeered.”

“That close?” I panicked slightly before composing myself. “That’s only five or so miles away!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice lowered. I’d rather inform everyone else on my own terms, not because I accidentally panicked in front of everyone.

Rick nodded, “hence our deployment. We’ve already lost contact with several smaller groups of survivors west of Worcester, so it seems they have yet to range into Shrewsbury—likely thinking the area wiped out by the fires… But… I’m sure you realize that won’t last forever.”

Rick’s revelation shook me to my core. Heck, it’s always one problem after another, isn’t it?

I looked the man in his eyes. “Rick, we’ll do whatever we can to help. We can’t let them find us first.”

Rick’s visage transformed into a smile. “I knew we could count on you, Thomas.”

I sighed, frankly, there really wasn’t any other option. It was only a matter of time before they would find us. It was an inevitable possibility. And I don’t think we’d be so lucky this time. Fighting against criminals with guns is a completely different matter compared to fighting lower-tiered monsters. “Well, after all, we’re under a more direct threat than Camp Edward is Rick. I should be thanking you instead.”

He nodded, “you’ll probably want to talk with Captain Sherman as soon as possible then. He’ll be temporarily assuming control over military operations in the area until the problem is resolved.”

Nodding, I resolved to do just as he said.

I couldn't help but be disturbed though. Demons, taming the mana zone, a dungeon that needs to be culled, and now bandits? It never ends.