Chapter 423: ARC 6-Winter War-117

I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

The army is as dour as usual, not being privy to Alana’s plans. Her reasoning is she doesn’t want anyone becoming lax with the end of our journey approaching. I think it’s an unnecessary worry. This place is too harrowing to underestimate for a moment. Despite the bone-deep exhaustion showing on some of the faces as we march through the especially deep snow, none of them would ever dream of underestimating the north.

Despite being privy to the end, I’m not in a great mood either. My steps are a little lighter, knowing this is the last day we venture further into this monster-infested wasteland, but I’m weighed down by what’s happened so far. Particularly, the unexpected difficulty of this campaign.

I thought it would be easy. In one aspect, it is. My ability to survive is unquestioned. I could have sprinted away from all the creatures we encountered. Except for the reapers, but their little scythes are ineffective anyway.

What has been brought into question is my effectiveness. My ability to bring down the biggest threats in the kingdom. The first titan was bigger and stronger than me. Worse, its magic could affect my base form and I have no idea why. Worse, Geneva has no idea why. Theories aplenty but nothing that can be proven without facing titan magic once again.

In the face of the goliath, I had no idea how to bring it down. I would have never thought to climb inside the thing’s nose, like my crazy wife, and rip it apart from the inside. Even now, knowing it might be the only effective method, I don’t think I could do the same. I’ve never considered myself squeamish in the face of gore or death but swimming through a creature’s guts is too much.

The other threats weren’t too much for me to handle but they certainly would have been a challenge to defend the others against. It’s all a bit ridiculous. Given my physiology and affinities, there should be nothing beyond my abilities. Well, not nothing, but so little I shouldn’t be running into so many problems.

It’s…it’s bringing back bad memories. I’ve been useless for a long time. After being reborn, I’ve yet to feel that. Hopeless, sure. Silly, a few times. Never useless.

It’s been a while since someone’s looked at me like I’m useless too. Rather, the looks I’ve been giving are the exact opposite. I never thought too much about it but maybe it’s been affecting me more than I thought. It’s disgusting to think about, but I’m no different from the nobles I used to despise. It took no time at all for the power to go to my head.

I’ve been stalling with my training because I thought I had all the time in the world. I still do. All the things that have given me trouble are trapped in the north. As long as we don’t poke the beehive by investigating the Lords of Winter or putting up any structures past the Peaks, the titans stay where they are.

The knights…we may stir up a little chaos once we march them into Quest to confront the guilds but afterwards, they’ll be back in their fort and throwing themselves against impossible odds. Everything will be as it’s always been and I can pretend to be invincible.

That’s the problem. I’d be pretending because I know different. And I hate it. I haven’t been this sour since an ignorant summoner gutted me and left me to bleed out on a cold floor. However, unlike then, I have the power to do something about it. So, the only question is what I’m going to do about it.

Those thoughts run circles in my head throughout the day. A peaceful day. Nothing happens. Not even an accident, like a wheel spoke breaking or someone twisting an ankle. Camp is made as always and we settle on our bedrolls while Geneva feeds our soldiers. Except, despite saying nothing, the women I sleep with notice I am not in my usual mood.

“What’s wrong?” Alana asks while wiping down her sword despite not having used it in several days. I think she does it when she’s bored and there’s plenty of boredom in the north. Most of the campaign is fighting to stay focused through hours of boredom. There isn’t much else to do. Entertainment degrades focus, so anything fun is strictly prohibited. And it’s too cold for most people to consider doing anything but burrowing in their bedrolls.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’re too easy to read, Lou.”

Kierra hums in agreement while lounging on her stomach, playing with a limp Bell.

“Okay, tell me honestly. What exactly is giving me away? I have a good stoic face.” One my father paid tutors a lot of gold to develop. I refuse to believe that all those lessons were in vain.

“Your feet, dedia.”

“Your feet.”

Huh?

Alana chuckles. “You’re so focused on controlling your face but never the rest of your body. Your feet are always a giveaway but sometimes, your shoulders and hands give you away too.”

“It is simple to divine your moods,” Kierra continues, driving the nail Alana pushed into my heart deeper. “From there, it is easy to guess your thoughts.”

“And something’s obviously bothering you. You going to tell us?”

I sigh. “It’s nothing serious. Just feeling…a little…”

Alana looks up. “A little what?”

“…small?” Too hard to say weak and a bit stupid.

“…this isn’t a joke.” Alana’s voice is heavy with disbelief.

Bell lets out a squeak as Kierra throws the imp into the air, catching her and throwing her back up like she’s a living ball. “I think our conqueror is doubting herself after encountering a real challenge.”

“I’m not doubting myself,” I grumble.

“Good. Because that would be ridiculous. No one has an easy time against titans.”

“There is an entire order that specializes in raising knights who go against titans.”

“Knights who have to exhaust every bit of their mana to bring them down and it takes the cooperation of several other knights to restrain the titan and identify its weakness. For creatures like the goliath, that don’t have any weaknesses and do have incredibly durable bodies, it may take two or three knights.”

“Okay, fine. But if anyone should be able to bring a titan down alone, it’s me.”

Bells spins as Kierra tosses her with more force and a twist of her wrist. “Are you regretting your lax training, my love?”

“Is that what this is about? It is.”

I look down at my feet. What are they seeing?

“It was your hands that time.” Alana chuckles as she puts her sword away. “Good. It’s about time you started taking things a little more seriously.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Alana averts her eyes and grunts. “Lou, you’re wonderful.”

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Oh saints. She never compliments me. Or at least, not this directly. I have a bad feeling.

“But sometimes, you can be incredibly frustrating.” She shakes her head. “Anytime I watch you break rocks because you’re bored or walk around in the freezing weather in a thin shirt while the rest of us are fighting off blue fingers, knowing that you don’t have to do anything to maintain that strength while I and everyone whose strength I’ve ever admired have trained till we collapsed…” She sighs. “Yeah. A bit frustrating.”

I feel a little guilty and a little insulted. Do I apologize or defend myself?

“Especially knowing that you could be a dragon if you applied yourself. I know you’ll get there eventually—"

“Oh, really?”

She rolls her eyes at my tone. First time I’ve seen her do that. The immature gesture from someone normally so mature is a little cute. “Yes, because of the face you’re making right now. Your ego wouldn’t allow you to ignore your talent for long.”

“Or your wife,” Kierra adds while folding Bell into strange shapes. “I am surprised, Alana. Her slothful nature makes your goal easier, does it not?”

“My goal doesn’t change no matter how strong she is.”

“What goal?”

“Nothing.” She clears her throat. “I thought Robert would be the one who sparked your growth. And don’t pretend you don’t know who that is.”

“I know who that buffoon is.” I should check in on Arthur’s progress with that idiot. “Why would he spark anything but annoyance in me?”

“He has four affinities. And yes, he’s a bit full of himself now but he at least has a goal driving him. In five or ten years, he’ll be the next Dunwayne, for better or worse. Twenty years? With access to a good melder? He’ll be as much of a monster as you are now, I think. And knowing you, having him be on the same level as you would be intolerable.”

She has a point. That’d be completely intolerable.

“Either that or he tries to destroy you socially and you retaliate by utterly destroying his ego built around being the most talented human in history by showing off your own talent.”

Also a plausible scenario. Still upset she apparently thinks better of the wannabe hero than me. At least when it comes to…work ethic? Studiousness? Her thinking he’s better than me in any way is annoying.

“I thought my father would be the one to spark her growth.”

We both turn to the elf at that concerning statement. She smiles, showing an unsettling amount of teeth. “My father is uncommonly protective of me, his only child. He challenged my mother after my punishment was delivered.”

“Punishment? What punishment?”

I wince. “Oh. We never did tell you how we met.”

“She helped you out of the Enchanted Forest, right?”

“Yeah. I’m talking about the circumstances behind that meeting. It’s nothing important.”

“Yes, I was simply trapped in a spatial prison by my mother for twenty years. Hardly a matter of any consequence.”

“What?”

“The important part is…” I say quickly, gesturing for Kierra to continue.

“After losing, my father went on a journey to grow stronger. It is only a matter of time until he returns and learns that I have married. He will undoubtedly be interested in my partner.” She chuckles. “By that, I mean he will likely try to kill you to convince me to return to the Dusk province.”

Sigh. “Have I mentioned I love your family?”

“Just wait until you meet my siblings.”

“Wait. Are you telling me her father—" She points at Kierra. “Is eventually going to hunt you down and kill you?”

“Apparently.”

“Her father will try to murder you one day and you’re not concerned about it? Is he weak?” Her voice says she doesn’t believe that for a moment.

“We share a physical affinity. It is not pure but he is over four centuries old and is considered by many to be the best martial fighter in Dusk. Unlike many physical casters, he put aside the more popular disciplines of healing, melding, and shapeshifting to focus solely on physical enhancement. He is a master at using explosive bursts of speed and power to overwhelm opponents.”

“Wonderful,” Alana says.

“Don’t tell me the woman who fearlessly marches against titan’s is scared of one elf.”

“One elf? It’s Kierra’s father. No, I’m not thinking about this. Is dinner ready? I’m starving.”

“Let me—"

My words are interrupted by Bell’s sudden hiss. Kierra is the first to react, sitting up and launching the imp toward the opening of the shelter with the speed of a striking snake. I hear a muttered curse as I turn around and see a dark shape go down. A person. A person who managed to sneak into our shelter despite myself, Kierra, and Bell being present.

A moment before my wife leaps at the intruder to tear them apart, Alana stops us with a gasped, “Khan?”

 

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