Moments later...
The rebels were broken, and the remnants chased off into the horizon.
Rainer found himself crouched, resting on a wagon's wheel as the dead were being loaded up behind to be taken back to camp.
To the side, officers were gathered and the loot was being sorted, but Rainer didn't seem interested. He didn't want armor, he already had enough weight to carry around, and as for jewelry—He didn't seem eager to demean himself, arguing over a dead man's coin pendant yet.
*Grunk!*
The wagon shook as another dead auxiliary soldier was loaded onto it, and he let out a sigh, pulling himself up to look into the wagon.
He was met with the eyes of the dead—most frozen in horror, some in pain, and many in disbelief... Disbelief that death had come for them.
'Death.'
Rainer silently mused, placing his chin on his arms, which lay folded, and resting on the wagon's side.
His expression was melancholic and his eyes were distant.
'Destined death... How does one prevent it?'
The soldiers around saw his aggrieved expression and misunderstood it for sadness at their losses. This unavoidably warmed their hearts and the opinion of many towards him became positive.
"Rainer."
He suddenly heard his name and glanced back to find Kotys, wiping some blood off his hands with a piece of cloth.
Rainer looked at the blood, raising a questioning brow in concern.
Kotys tucked away the cloth.
"I was helping with the injured. I am fine."
Kotys curtly answered Rainer's silent question.
"Good."
Rainer revealed the briefest of smiles and turned away.
Kotys glanced from him to the wagon, and his face softened.
"You care for our dead?"
He questioned with a hint of doubt in his tone before looking around.
"Regardless, it's a good look. Maybe the men will soften up to you."
"Maybe." Rainer idly echoed.
"Maybe," Kotys nodded, looking down with a hint of sadness. "Though, I would not stare at the dead for long..."
For the briefest of seconds, his face quirked up in a slight frown as if remembering something.
"The faces of the dead do something to a man..."
"Hm. To a man."
Rainer lightly grunted, echoing in agreement, but then he glanced back at him with an odd look.
"Are you here for something, Kotys?"
Kotys was briefly taken aback by the question, but then he sighed and reluctantly nodded.
"Lord Praefect wishes that you ride with him back to camp. He quickly needs to reconvene with the majority of the cohort. He will do this with Sabazios' turma as your escort."
He informed, gesturing away toward the group of grim, armored horsemen protectively congregating about the Prefect.
"He also mentioned that he would provide you a strong horse—assuming you know how to ride. The centuries here will arrive much later..."
Rainer scoffed and looked away.
"Tell him that I refuse, and that I do not need a strong horse because I can carry my burden just fine."
"Burden? What bur—"
Kotys froze when he spotted the spear and shield just to the side, leaning against the wagon, and his eyes turned to saucers.
"You march with that!?"
Rainer shrugged.
"Just barely. It's killing me though, not going to lie."
Kotys cast Rainer a stunned look.
"Th-those aren't weapons for fighting. We found them held up by a sculpted deity on an altar in that garrison fort. It wasn't easy prying them off. I thought it would be sent back for smelting and repurposing but I didn't know it was gifted to you?"
Rainer combed his fingers through his hair with a resentful, wry smile.
"Yes, I see now. Weapons befitting a godling."
Kotys seemed to consider something, and then, all at once, something clicked in his head.
"You are being bullied?!"
Rainer paused and then turned with a distasteful expression. Frowning at the term bullied, he pointed a finger toward him.
"Wording."
Rainer cautioned before glancing at the Prefect.
"Tell him this instead: The injured will better appreciate the company of a—godling! I will march with them!"
Kotys seemed to want to say something, but he stopped himself and simply nodded.
"Alright."
Seeing that Rainer had nothing more to add, he turned and went toward the Prefect.
Rainer's steady gaze followed him for a while before looking away. Then he took in a deep breath before letting out a tired sigh.
When he turned he found many onlookers, many of whom had been listening in. Most wore hard, weathered, and unreadable expressions; others seemed uncertain of what to think. However, a few seemed to look at him in a somewhat friendly light.
This was what Rainer wanted, more of the last. It was the reason why he drummed, why he bothered himself at all.
He considered that since he was going to be with the cohort for a year, he might as well make a good impression.
He felt that this would make things easier in the long run.
If he decided to alienate himself, keeping distance and only involving himself when the Prefect was in danger, that would only breed malice.
It was one of the reasons he hadn't attempted to ask for loot.
This was a sensitive period, one where he needed to make wise choices, lest he find himself backstabbed at night or in battle by some greedy, crazy, or simply paranoid bastard thinking he was a sort of demon... Which would be high praise to any demon who knew him, by the way.
While Rainer mulled over this, he was suddenly hit by an odd feeling, a wind to be specific. However, it was not the quality of the wind that piqued his interest, but what it carried. Something that shouldn't be in a normal Earth's atmosphere... mana.
It felt so alien, yet so nostalgic. Sending electric currents tingling across his spine.
'Did it come from over there?'
He looked toward the mountain range to the east and his brows gradually furrowed.
'Magic? Here? No, it can't be.'
Rainer shook his head in disbelief.