The farther I ran away from the town, the more stressed I started to get, which had nothing to do with the beasts I had to cleave through in order to reach my destination. A part of it was the fear that, somehow, my absence would spell disaster for everything I had built. That, I knew to be an inaccurate feeling.
I tried to convince myself that it was just my desire to be always in control. I was aware that I could be somewhat of a control freak in most circumstances.
It was the other source of fear that I couldn't dismiss as a personal failure … my connection with the dungeon, getting more and more feeble as the distance grew, making me tenser. But, at this point, I learned to trust the feedback I was getting from the dungeon, and I could sense I was not at the limit of the connection. It had long become useless in terms of mana transfer in either direction, but the connection persisted.
Then, there was a chance that my enemies, or some opportunistic third party, would notice my travel and ambush me.
Altogether, I felt a sigh of relief when I finally took a step into the swamp I had been targeting, even though, from all rational perspectives, it was supposed to be a cloying, suffocating location. The air was thick with humidity, every breath sticky with a rotting smell, my cloak soaking into the swamp water.
Yet, I felt comforted by the way the soil squelched beneath my boots, a soft percussion to mark each of my steps. After living in the dungeon for such a long time, I realized that I started to find swamps as a source of comfort and security.
Like a childhood blanket protecting me from monsters … though, in this case, the monsters were literal.
Though, there were actual, practical reasons to be happy. One was the presence of a thick fog, which, combined with the thick vegetation of mangroves and stubborn willow trees, was enough to block the view of any possible errant scout that might stumble upon me and turn my solo expedition into a battle.
The other was the reason I had picked it as a prime target. The existence of a mana cloud. Thin as it might be, it was enough to reassure my sense of security. Actually, relative thinness played a role in my sense of safety, as it was just enough to give me an edge against the other fighters, but not enough to enhance mages' combat ability significantly.
None of those factors were enough to make me put down my spear, of course, but every bit helped. I moved deeper into the swamp, the density of the monsters suggesting there hadn't been a lot of people that approached it from the direction of our town.
My aim was to find a nice, concealed spot near the center of the valley. I had no illusion that it would stay hidden forever, but every day it went unnoticed would give us a day to fortify the area further. It was a good plan. Sound, safe, nifty…
Too bad it died a quick death when the sounds of skirmish reached my ears; beast roars, intersected by desperate calls for action. The smart thing was to ignore the roars and move on. It was not my problem.
"It was why I didn't want to be the leader," I growled, disappointed in myself, and changed direction. Toward the battle. It was hard to distinguish, but even a low-balling guess indicated the presence of hundreds of people, likely putting a desperate battle against a dangerous beast wave.
One that could easily win against the defenders.
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The closer I got, I started to stumble upon some beasts, made up of some of the most dangerous bunch of frogs I had ever seen, their sizes ranging between dogs and elephants, their erratic movement enough to be threatening. I was able to cut them down before they could even react to my presence properly, but that didn't prevent me from noticing that some of the frogs were able to use magic.
They were more like raw blasts of mana, heavily water with a hint of poison, but they were still dangerous. Their strength confirmed that my decision to help was a good one.
Once I moved over a small hill, I came across the source of the battle, pausing with a small shock. A small settlement, a mixture between tents and half-finished wooden buildings, protected by a shockingly sturdy palisade.
One that was actively growing to refill the gaps whenever one of the beasts managed to deliver substantial damage. The source, about a dozen people, their hands pressing against the palisade as mana cycled around them, desperately using a combination of mana and nurture to keep the semi-living palisade in place. Help us continue by reading at the source: MV2LEMPYR.
However, a giant, hulking figure of a frog at a distance, barely visible through the fog, made that significantly harder. The frog didn't approach them, just stood at a distance away, easily shrugging a few attacks that were thrown their way as it attacked with the enlarged version of the mana blasts, carrying a far stronger poison impact.
Then, I noticed something surprising at the center. A wooden device, one that I almost ignored at first before I distinguished the cloud it was spewing out was different than the ambient fog.
A steam engine, made entirely of wood.
Once I noticed that, the rest of the details were easier to piece through. A workbench, piling uniform chunks of wood that the workers desperately tried to shape before passing it to another caster who imbued them with a quick burst of mana; a half-completed smooth wooden cylinder connected to some pipes; all surrounded ditches and half-assembled palisades.
They were building something. Not just shelters, but a defensive structure with overlapping walls, sluices to redirect water, and platforms that were likely meant for siege weapons with shockingly familiar designs despite unfamiliar material.
The pieces came together. About a thousand refugees, in the middle of the nowhere, led by a group of novice casters, which I could identify with ease. It seemed that my secret guides were having an impact.
I didn't know if I should feel guilty or proud.
On one hand, what I had created was clearly having an impact, allowing people to take a chance on their lives. I could see from the way they fought that the defenders were exclusively production classes — though I could only distinguish the farmers among their numbers due to their obvious environmental usage.
The fact that they had ignored the subtle brainwashing of the System and decided to strike alone was something beautiful.
But, on the other hand, guilt rose just as easily. They were here, trying to defend their nascent community against a beast that they had no chance against. I could see the signs of exhaustion among them, not to mention the number of wounded at the center compared to the armed defenders at the wall.
Some looked desperate to fight, only to be kept back by their limited number of weapons. More than a thousand occupants, but the number with metal weapons was less than a hundred. The others were desperately trying to fashion weapons out of mana-imbued wood, which didn't last long against the frog swarm.
Without me stumbling on them, I didn't want to imagine what would happen, which fueled my guilt. I was here to save them from the desperate situation, but what about the others that encouraged by the same.
How many people I killed by the technical guides I created, and asked Rosie to spread through sympathetic merchants, and other contacts? Was it my fault for not making it comprehensive enough…
But then, even if that action killed them, should I be feeling guilty. How many towns had been obliterated by an errant monster wave because people were unable to defend themselves? How many people have been by growing new nobility just because they were afraid to venture alone, dependent on the security they provided.
Those were just a bunch of tough bunch of questions that flashed through my mind, but even though I had been thinking about those, I had been moving toward the boss monster, ready to slay it.
Just because I wanted to avoid attention didn't mean I would turn my gaze away from a massacre. As for whether I would reveal myself or disappear into the mist…
Well, that was a question for the future. For now, I had a frog to take down…