Returning home and opening the gate, I found four little goblins scurrying around the yard. The eldest, five-year-old Ryu, was the first to notice me and, bowing, greeted me.
"Welcome, sir," he said. The others also bent into a bow and froze. "The master of the house is not here right now, but we will go get mom."
"You don't need to get her, I will go to her later," I said, stopping the youngest who was about to run into the house with a wave of my hand.
I walked closer and sat down on a bench near the small training area, right where the children were playing.
"Perhaps I shouldn't have hoped that your attributes would increase with age, Ryu. What a shame," I said quietly.
The children stirred, took a new look at the armor covering my entire body, and then all four squealed.
"Uncle Irchin, Uncle Irchin!" They ran closer and with undisguised interest began to examine the incredible suit.
"We're sorry, Uncle Irchin," the eldest said apologetically. "Mom warned us that you had become much taller and bigger, but we couldn't imagine that you would be promoted to Centurion."
Hearing the squealing, June ran out of the house. Surprise was written all over her wide-open eyes.
"Welcome home, sir, dinner is ready," she said with a bow.
"Set the table in my bedroom, and in the meantime, I'll check on your children's training results," I said. At these words, June's face twisted slightly, as it always did when she was reminded that these were children from another goblin.
"Yes, sir," she said coldly and went back into the house.
"Alright, Ryu, show me how your training is progressing."
He stood in front of me, ramrod straight.
"Begin," I commanded.
Ryu began to do push-ups, then squats. When he couldn't alternate sets anymore, I began to throw small, specially prepared pebbles at him. He was still bad at dodging. But the strength exercises were clearly becoming easier for him, which meant he wasn't slacking off on his training.
"Why aren't you practicing dodging blows? Is Mo refusing to help you?"
Mo, who had been sitting quietly nearby until now, jumped up and, huffing, began to explain.
"Uncle Irchin, I am helping, but as soon as I manage to hit him, he hits back very hard."
"I have explained to you more than once that you need to hit quickly, lightly. During strikes and dodges, the Agility attribute is trained; you can't train Strength that way. If you continue to slack off on your training, you can't even dream of getting Player status in the temple of Great Anteros. If you continue to hit your brother with force, it will not give you anything. Think about it, maybe your intelligence will still awaken, but if not, you'll live your whole life as a unit. And no unit has ever been reborn into a hobgoblin."
Leaving the children in the yard, I went into the house. I needed to eat and finally get some sleep; all this running around had been very exhausting. The basement was cleaned, and nothing reminded me of the bloody battle. Food was steaming on the table and smelled pleasant. June waited until I sat down and started eating, then was about to leave, but I stopped her.
"Sit down, I need to have a serious talk with you," I hissed quietly, raising the visor of my helmet at the same time.
June flinched and paled when she saw my face, or maybe she reacted that way to the upcoming conversation. She sat down opposite me, and I started eating without saying anything. Her patience ran out after five minutes and two bowls of hot porridge, after which, unable to withstand my silence, she spoke herself.
"Sir, please, allow me to stay with you. I understand that the problem with Shaor is solved, and you no longer need my help. That you lived perfectly well on your own before, unburdened by the extra expenses for five goblins. But I am ready to do anything," June fell silent and wiped away her tears with her hand. "If you cast me out, no one will take me in; they will simply be afraid of your wrath," she said resignedly.
June fell silent and only sobbed quietly.
Similar thoughts often came to my mind. There was no particular point in supporting a whole family of goblins who were frankly strangers to me. In these six months, I had not become that attached to them. My entire plan was to destroy the threat of Shaor's gang, well, and to seize his gold coins. Even after the unexpected appearance of the Minor Deceit skill, the only thing that changed was that I absorbed their SP, whereas before I had intended to kill them with non-system weapons. But those are just details. I could have eaten at a tavern during my rare leaves.
"I know I said too much, and there is no forgiveness for me. And that any family would want to give their daughter to such a rich Decurion, and of course, without other people's children," she quietly sobbed again.
But on the other hand, being alone had become tiresome over the long years, and I shouldn't forget that I now looked like an arachnid. And frankly, 1 SP would be enough to support such a crowd for a whole year. Not to mention the funds that the late Shaor had.
"It's wonderful that you understand everything," I hissed quietly. "You are not of any special value. Therefore, by the time I return from my next campaign, you must find me a young concubine. She must be beautiful, of course, you won't find one exactly like you, but she must be similar. I want to draw your special attention to the fact that you shouldn't even consider someone who is completely stupid. My future concubine must have at least a little bit of brains in her head."
June's eyes widened, and the flames of the wall-mounted oil lamps were clearly visible in them. Tears streamed down her face.
"Sir, I will do everything," she said, resignedly weeping aloud.
"I'm not finished," I hissed menacingly, drawing her attention back to me. "Wipe away your tears and don't ruin my appetite."
June sobbed and fell silent, but her gaze became more conscious.
"I must like your choice; if you don't try hard, I will punish you. You can not be frugal with the gold coins for the ransom. Next is the most important part: I will leave you a sum significantly larger than what is needed to buy a concubine. You need to hire workers and build a corral. A large enough one to raise cattle meat, in a quantity sufficient to feed a large family. I am relying entirely on you for this. It won't be right away, but you will be provided with your own meat."
Thinking for a moment, looking at the changes on June's face, I continued.
"The most important thing is that when I eat or take off my armor at all, your children must not see me under any circumstances. I don't think I need to explain why," I paused for a moment and continued. "And to summarize the above, I forgive your harsh words toward me, and I hope not to hear them again in the future. In the future, I hope you will only please me, and now get out of here, I want to sleep."
As soon as June closed the door, I decided to check how the exosuit came off. I immediately placed two mana crystals into the receiving compartment. I thought that maybe it could somehow accumulate them, and I wouldn't have to carry a whole pouch of magic stones with me. A pulse went through the armor, the needles released my body, and the exosuit opened, allowing me to take it off. I checked the compartment for the mana crystals, and, naturally, I didn't find anything there. It turns out that to put it on again, I would have to spend another stone. I had hoped that after loading a large amount of energy, the external indicator on my left hand would give some kind of signal or, in an extreme case, a malfunction check would pass, as it should. But I think I am not the first to try to revive this techno-magical exosuit.
Having freed myself from the armor, I was unpleasantly surprised. There were fresh, deep marks all over the surface of the chitin, and lymph was oozing from them. Poking at the deepest wounds from the needles with my claw, I realized that the integrity of the hide was not violated, but of course, its former durability was gone too. I took a deep breath; it was difficult to even breathe under the weight of the armor. Especially considering that over time, the fatigue and tension would only accumulate. But I have no other choice right now. I will have to wear it for at least a couple of months.
Taking the gold I had inherited from Shaor from the safe, I counted out about a quarter. I think this should be enough. Of course, I understood prices, but I hadn't been interested in how much, for example, a single measure of cattle meat cost for a long time. For many years, I had only been interested in prices in SP. But that didn't mean I didn't know the price limits. I understood perfectly well that the same measure of meat could not cost a silver coin, but how much copper to pay for it was a big question. When you've been eating in taverns and army canteens for many years, this sometimes happens. And with these empty and meaningless thoughts, I fell asleep.
Chapter 11.1
The next morning on the parade ground of Zarem's Claw fortress.
Leur's worries.
Someone was milling about here since early morning before the formation. Mostly those who spent the night in the barracks and were still trying to save and accumulate gold coins. The majority, however, gathered closer to dawn.
The one thing you couldn't take away from our Miliurion was his love for discipline. For a simple tardiness, the punishment was very cruel, I would even say excessive, but that's just my opinion. After major missions, we were always given leave, and the rest of the time there were regular watches, and soldiers could go into the city in the evenings.
Today, all available companies were gathering for the formation. Miliurion Tarak the Bloody, as usual, would bellow, praising some and sticking others' noses in their failures. In essence, the general assembly was more a tribute to tradition than a necessity. Or maybe he just liked to look down from his rostrum at his personal army. After all, later, at the senior officers' meeting, general tasks would be assigned, and at the junior officers' meeting, each squad would be informed of its personal task.
But today, everything was clearly not going according to plan. When half of the soldiers, more than five hundred goblins, had gathered and, in the absence of senior officers, were telling tall tales about their great exploits during this leave, a new Centurion appeared on the parade ground, and an unpleasant silence immediately fell.
Hobgoblins are not the kind of creatures who will tolerate a commotion and inappropriate laughter in their presence. But this was someone new; I had never seen such armor before. There aren't so many Centurions that you could confuse or, even more so, not recognize one of them. Of course, this happens, and new officers are accepted into service, but in my memory, such a significant event had never happened. But the unpleasant thing was not that there would be personnel changes with the arrival of a new officer, but that he was heading straight for our seventh company, and to be more precise, to my exact squad. He came up, looked at everyone through the visor of his helmet, and loudly rumbled.
"What are you standing there like statues for? Do you want a lashing?" he said maliciously. "Leur, I thought better of your mental abilities. Did you all forget how to call up the system prompt?"
In just a moment, almost our entire company shouted at the same time.
"Decurion!" the soldiers shouted and stood at attention.
"At ease," he hissed, walking through the ranks of the soldiers and sitting down on a bench at the edge of the parade ground.
A whisper went through the formation; not everyone understood which Decurion had arrived. In principle, this could not have happened; not even all Centurions had armor of this level. Moresh and Uler were talking quietly, but I could hear them clearly.
"See, Uler, and you said the Miliurion would hold back the reward for saving so many soldiers."
"Who could have even imagined such a thing? Where have you ever seen a Decurion be given magical armor? I once heard that their price starts at 1000 SP. With that kind of money, you could level up from 12 to almost 19. And that's a whole 7 attribute points," Uler said with a hidden reverence.
"If you put in 7 attribute points, can you even imagine what a powerful warrior you could turn into?" Moresh whispered dreamily.
"But he's still wearing armor, and his level is still 12. Maybe he'll even be promoted to Lurion," said Uler. "And we'll be assigned a new Decurion."
I didn't listen to their slobbering over other people's achievements anymore. Everyone was looking at Decurion Irchin with interest, and if it had been any other junior officer, they would have tormented him with questions. But only Mr. Otsev and Zhurek from our company could have asked the Malicious one about the origin of his high-tech armor. But even they showed this old warrior an excessive respect that I didn't understand.
However, the thought of his promotion was a pleasant one. If he were transferred away from me, I could build a normal relationship with the next Decurion, as is currently the case in other squads. It's not normal that he keeps the battle mages in fear. I even had a nightmare about him cutting off the head of the young Tatalem So. Just remembering how much blood gushed from his throat, a chill immediately runs down my spine. And no one even moved or used a healing spell before his command. Everyone was stunned and in a kind of daze.
Shaking my head, I chased away these thoughts and turned toward Mister Irchin. He was sitting on the bench like a stone statue. And he was pretending that he had no business with us. I suppose that was the case. How many soldiers and mages had changed under his command during his long service? I don't think he remembers their names at all.
As I was having these sad thoughts, the late soldiers and junior officers showed up. All this time, the goblins were looking at the Decurion sitting off to the side with suspicion. And the quiet whispers only added to the tension of the situation.
Half an hour later, when the senior officers arrived, the inspection began. Miliurion Tarak the Bloody came out onto the rostrum and looked down at us as if we were beetles. And it seemed that he didn't miss anyone; everyone was honored with his fleeting attention.
"You have worked gloriously, my warriors. In the world of Pakkot, the loot was worthy. Everyone who distinguished himself was rewarded," he boomed. Being a level 40 Blood Orc, his thunderous voice was not surprising.
He spent another ten minutes glorifying our lord and Great Anteros himself, and then he summoned the senior officers to the headquarters.
Chapter 11.2
The main headquarters of Zarem's Claw fortress.
Otsev was as gloomy as ever. In recent years, his position in the city had begun to deteriorate rapidly. Nothing serious, just minor things. One minute, some thugs would set fire to a warehouse; of course, they were found and punished, but the goods, of course, were not returned. The next minute, his own supply caravan would disappear after a sudden attack. All this was not so important, but it damaged his reputation, and people were increasingly reluctant to make deals with him. And then there was this last mission in the world of the arachnids. If it hadn't been for the persistence of old Irchin, it's still unknown whether the Miliurion would have allowed the lost squads to be restored.
With these unhappy thoughts, the meeting was coming to an end. Each Centurion received a pre-prepared folder with documents, quickly studied it, and if he had no questions about his task, he left to carry it out. Of course, it was difficult to call it a meeting; it was more like a distribution of missions, but it had become a tradition that the Miliurion did not need advice.
Over the years he had lived, he knew the situation around him much better than anyone else. But after the officer of the 6th company, Miliurion Tarak immediately summoned the Centurion of the eighth. And I tensed up; it meant that he already had some questions for me. When everyone had left the office and we were alone, he naturally tried to get on my nerves, maintaining a long pause. Expecting that I would start making excuses myself. But we had known each other for a very long time, and this was more a tribute to the tradition of how a superior speaks to a subordinate, rather than an effective method of pressure.
"So," the Miliurion said slowly. "Why is a junior officer being awarded such an expensive exosuit without my knowledge? Is this your way of rebuking me for the cut bonuses of your officer?" he asked, looking into my eyes.
"Miliurion, I apologize, I don't want to seem insufficiently informed, but I don't understand who or what you are talking about at all. If you would name him, the guilty party will be punished immediately," I said, bowing.
"Otsev, if you've decided to play a joke on me, believe me, it's not the best idea," Tarak the Bloody growled.
"Miliurion, I beg your forgiveness, but I really don't know about any exosuit, and I haven't heard anything about reduced bonuses. If my warriors have hidden this information from me, they will greatly regret it," I repeated the bow. But this was starting to get tiring.
"So, you didn't notice a Decurion in new armor in the ranks of your company?" the orc asked ironically.
"I have confidence in my soldiers and Decurions, including. And I do not monitor their equipment; that is their personal business. But yes, I have not conducted a personal inspection and have not yet spoken with the junior officers. I was going to do that after receiving your orders. I apologize if I have unknowingly caused your wrath," this time I bowed even lower. "Please, name him, and all those involved will be severely punished."
"Decurion Irchin," Tarak hissed maliciously. "Do you at least remember that name?"
"Yes, sir," I said, and then I turned toward the exit and bellowed, "Lurion Zhurek, here, at the double."
We fell silent, waiting for the officer from my company. Not a minute passed before Zhurek the Slippery was standing before the Miliurion's angry eyes.
"Zhurek, where did old Decurion Irchin get that expensive exosuit? Did you acquire it for him?" I asked. "And what have you heard about a reduction in his bonuses for this mission? Answer quickly."
The Lurion took a moment to collect his thoughts and then blurted out.
"He bought the suit himself, and according to him, it costs about 5 SP. Appraisal shows 9% integrity for this suit. I heard about this junk a long time ago; you can't wear it. When you activate it, it badly damages your skin every time. Decurion Irchin learned the Chitinous Hide skill just to wear this garbage. As for the bonuses, in my calculations, he certainly has no reason to complain. He should have gotten no less than 140 SP. Such results are very rare. I was even surprised that he didn't raise his level, since he has gotten quite old over the last couple of years, and he refuses to put points into his Vitality attribute. During this leave, he raised his Strength attribute to 7 points. He hasn't distributed 2 bonus points for many years. So, the topic of bonuses wasn't brought up," Zhurek reported briskly.
Tarak the Bloody furrowed his brows, and his eyes seemed to fill with blood. Then he said thoughtfully.
"What a wrong-headed goblin, he wasn't afraid to learn such a skill. Now he'll be like a scarecrow for the rest of his life. Although, how much longer does he have?" Tarak shifted his gaze to the Lurion. "Get out of here," he roared, and Zhurek bolted from the office faster than lightning.
"I'm afraid to imagine how much his bonus was reduced," I said quietly.
But the Miliurion continued to think intensely and did not pay any attention to my words.
"Since he's such a good Decurion, put him on the cutting edge, on the assault positions," Tarak said more cheerfully.
"Miliurion, you appointed him to that position in my company many years ago. And until you give a special order, he cannot be transferred to ordinary watch duty," I reported clearly.
"Well, well, well," Tarak tapped his fingers on the table. "I remember something like that. Then assign him the youngest warriors. Let him pass on his vast combat experience to the youth," he said with a malicious grin.
"Miliurion, you also gave that order before, and only the fighters whom he himself has trained are under this Decurion's command. And until you give a special order, all freed up positions, including mages, are replaced by recruits without the slightest experience, from that time until this very day," I reported clearly.
"And he's still alive," Tarak growled quietly, clenching his fists furiously. "What a wrong-headed goblin."
"Miliurion, the only thing left is to tie his hands behind his back," I couldn't help but joke.
The Miliurion's eyes suddenly flew open, as if he had just had a brilliant idea.
"You're right, Otsev, that's what we'll do," Tarak said, now laughing aloud. "Assign a second mage to his squad, that annoying Tatalem So. And add more warriors, reinforce him as much as possible. After all, such a worthy junior officer must be encouraged and given the opportunity to unleash his full potential."
Of course, I wanted to reply that inexperienced soldiers would definitely not be able to protect two mages. And if one of the wizards died, the entire squad would be executed as a lesson. I also wanted to know how much the old Decurion's bonus had been reduced and about his role in the earlier withdrawal of troops from the world of Pakkot. But it wouldn't change anything. The Miliurion had already decided everything. Through old Decurion Irchin, he would make not only his life difficult, but mine as well. Apparently, he was afraid that after I reached level 50, I would risk undergoing rebirth, and I would have enough SP reserves to quickly raise my levels at D rank. But these are just my speculations. Our relationship with the Miliurion has never been particularly trusting, and it became especially strained after that incident in the world of eternal ice.
"Miliurion, everything will be carried out," I said with a bow.