"Split up."
Lavere, Avron, Amali, and Roy stared at Reoloy blankly as he sat atop a wooden stump. They had stopped moving about an hour ago and, until now, had been waiting for any semblance of orders from their fellow teen, but he had done nothing. Just sat there, staring into nothing.
"…I don't think that's a good idea," Amali said, concern creeping into her expression.
"She's right," Roy added, drawing looks from the other three Cardanians. "This forest's unpredictable. Sabre wolves are nothing compared to what else is out here."
Reoloy didn't react. His dismissive expression only made them more uneasy.
"I hear you," he said at last, letting out a slow breath. "But you misunderstood me. I'm saying we split into squads."
His gaze swept over the four of them.
"Specifically, three squads," he clarified, idly tracing lines into the dirt with his claw relic. "Amali and Lavere—each of you take twelve. The rest go with Avron."
The orange-haired boy grunted in acknowledgement and immediately moved off, already eyeing the warriors he wanted. Reoloy tracked him for a moment before shifting his attention to the last unassigned member.
"So, you and I are sticking together?" Roy asked, a grin breaking across his face. "Works for me."
Reoloy almost smiled.
Almost.
"No, you're with the tangerine over there."
Roy's expression fell. Avron, who had been walking away, froze—then spun around and marched back.
"I'm not going anywhere with him," he snapped.
Reoloy's blinked. 'That's what he's angry about?'
"Why?" he asked, glancing toward Lavere.
"Rivalry," she said simply.
Reoloy stared at them, unimpressed. At this rate, everyone he worked with in this world would be petty, strange, and dysfunctional.
He waved Avron over. When the boy didn't budge, he waved again—more insistently this time.
Still nothing.
Reoloy clicked his tongue, stood, and closed the distance himself. He slung an arm around Avron's shoulders and pulled him aside.
"What do you want?" Reoloy asked.
Avron frowned. "There's nothing you can give me."
He received a blank stare in response.
"Clearly not," the outsider replied. "Let me change my question..."
He inhaled.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
Avron said nothing, and for a moment, it looked like he might answer. Then he scoffed and looked away.
Reoloy almost pushed further, but decided against it. Instead, he released the boy and leaned silently against a tree, staring off into nothing.
"What are you doing?" Avron asked.
"I'm thinking."
"Don't bother," Lavere chimed, drawing all eyes to her. "Father and Captain Meyer left it up to us to decide who leads."
Amali nodded emphatically in agreement while Roy still stared off into space dejectedly.
"We all picked you," she continued coolly, pointing at Reoloy. "What he's doing right now counts as insubordination. The captain personally punishes such cases."
Avron shivered at the veiled threat.
"Hey!" he barked. "This doesn't count. He's not even a militia member—let alone a Cardanian!"
He glared at each of the four, trying to stand his ground.
"Unless the captain himself instructs otherwise, I refuse—!"
"Oi."
Everyone turned to Roy.
"Technically, I'm going to be your captain soon," the dark-haired teen said lazily. "I let him call the shots. That has to count for something."
He paused, palming the pommel of his sword.
"I'm going with you whether you like it or not. Of course..."
Roy looked Avron dead in the eye, his expression unreadable.
"You can always fight me about it."
That sealed the arrangement.
Any complaints Avron had died in his throat. He shot Reoloy a cold look.
'What did I do?' the reincarnator mused, opting to ignore the stare. 'There's no way he'd try to kill me... right?'
The memory of being violently assaulted and thrown off a ship flashed through his mind, and he sighed.
He shifted awkwardly, distracting himself by inspecting his new clothes. Days into his time here, he'd finally gotten a change of outfit. Surprisingly, it had been arranged by Leno. He hadn't expected the man to involve himself in anything that didn't directly interest him.
Reoloy now wore a plain, sleeveless, bright green shirt paired with dark red cargo pants that were baggier than he would've liked. On his feet were grey boots made from the specialised metal the Cardanians used in their combat gear—allowing for mobility while offering far more protection than standard footwear. The heels and toes were reinforced with denser plating, suited for both offence and defence.
He had also convinced them to add a chest plate and black detached arm sleeves, but even so, it all felt… off.
"I actually miss the prison jumpsuit..."
Amali perked up and turned. "What was that?"
Reoloy shook his head slowly, stepping closer to where he originally sat.
"I was just thinking about these new clothes," he said calmly. "You're the one who picked them out, right?"
The black-haired girl's chest puffed as she egotistically flipped her short hair back. Her face blatantly beamed with pride.
"Yeah, I did," she replied, practically strutting. "I know. My taste's amazing. Don't be shy—say it."
The other three leered with exaggerated disgust at her shameless attempt to farm compliments.
"It's alright," Reoloy said. "I don't think it suits me, though."
"Eh?"
"Maybe it would look good on someone else, but on me, it's pretty shit."
Amali stared dryly at him, slightly trembling. Lavere placed a hand on her shoulder, prompting her to turn slowly toward her. She silently looked for any hint of rebuttal to what Reoloy had just said, but only received a sigh.
"The neon green is pretty questionable," Lavere said plainly, causing her face to tighten.
A series of restrained snickers came from Amali's right, her gaze shifting to find Roy and Avron fighting for their lives to hold themselves together.
She flushed a bright red, sniffling to keep tears from freely falling as they formed in her eyes.
"Um, are you—"
Reoloy approached the two girls carefully, but one weak glare was enough for him to alter his course for his trusty tree stump.
It would probably be best for him to remain quiet for now.
He found it odd that he wasn't completely exhausted dealing with people these days. Back on Earth, he was always absolutely drained after a day of socialising, whether it was at school or at work. The only exception had been his sisters—well, when they still wanted to talk to him.
He winced slightly. He had been trying his best not to remember the circumstances he had left behind.
'Speaking of sisters...' Reoloy thought. 'I wonder how Lohan's thing is going.'
She still had two days left before she'd move ahead of him. Though now that he thought about it, he wondered how he was going to get to the meeting site.
Lohan had mobility arts.
He didn't.
Reoloy's line of sight drifted onto his "subordinates."
Lavere was now fully embracing Amali as she vented—rather colourfully—about her frustrations toward him. His ear twitched at a particularly scathing cascade of insults that were pointed his way.
'She knows full well I can hear her...'
Roy and Avron, meanwhile, were butting heads. But it was more accurate to say that Avron was making challenges while Roy absently dismissed him. It was actually getting sad to watch.
"Anyway," he said loudly, interrupting the interactions. "We need to sort out our strategy."
They all instantly settled, turning their full attention on him.
"There are eight dens spread out across the entire area. They seem like they're separate packs, but they're not. They're all under the same alpha."
"How do you—?" Roy began.
"I can feel it," Reoloy cut him off. "I may not be as good as a traditional sensor, but you can trust my ability to pinpoint general populations."
He looked between them.
"If monsters with a strict hierarchical structure are purposefully separating, that means..." he continued.
"Their leader is smart," Avron finished.
Reoloy nodded.
"So it's a race," Roy added drowsily. "Our goal is to find the target before they can start exercising their cunning."
"Exactly. Tangerine," Reoloy called. "You can command your unit however you want for the rest of the mission."
Avron's brow rose, but he nodded after a beat of hesitation.
"...Okay."
The reincarnator relaxed—then seemingly remembered something.
"I don't care how you form your squads," he added seriously. "You have more experience with monster hunting campaigns than I do, after all. Just make sure you have stable team compositions."
He narrowed in on Avron, wanting to emphasise the point, but glanced at Roy and decided they would be fine either way.
They all gave their varying signs of acknowledgement to the orders.
"Then it's settled," he continued, pointing to his drawing in the dirt. "Memorise this map carefully. We're heading out in... about an hour."
"You assigned squads to each of us, but what about you?" Amali asked. "What will you do?"
Reoloy smiled reassuringly.
"Don't worry about me," he said lightly. "I have to look into something, but afterwards I'll take my time heading for the nearest den."
A faint pause.
"It'll help me unwind."
---
~ An hour later ~
Back with the much larger group, Reoloy watched as each squad leader consolidated their forces. He had to admit—the future of Cardana was bright. These guys would probably go on to be respectable generals.
He glanced over to Avron's unit, which kept checking with Roy before acting on any of his orders.
"...Scratch the respectable part."
"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Lavere's voice approached from behind.
And then there was her.
Reoloy carefully observed the blonde. He hadn't forgotten—not even for a moment. Something was going to happen to her in the future. It was bothersome, but he couldn't just sit there and let whatever it was unfold.
He would have to take action.
"Yeah, it's me," he said dryly. "I don't think I can die even if I tried."
He paused.
"At least, not yet."
Lavere's head tilted, regarding him with confusion, but then she shook it off and smiled. She was used to him by now. His awkward, cryptic behaviour had simply become part of who he was in her eyes.
"Remember to signal if you get in trouble," she said, lightly punching his shoulder. "You made such a bold declaration earlier. It would be a shame if you died quietly before even attempting to make it come true."
Reoloy smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Get back to your people."
She walked away, giving a small wave without turning back.
"Lavere," he called, stopping her in her tracks. "You need to be there when I do it, okay?"
Her smile deepened, though he couldn't see it with their backs to each other. He only heard her footsteps resume as she returned to her unit.
"Okay then," Reoloy's voice rang across the open field. "I don't have much to say."
He clapped his hands together.
"Don't die."
A thunderous roar consumed the field.
"Yes, sir!"
Each squad broke off in their chosen directions, calling out farewells as they went.
"Reollie!" Amali yelled from the treeline. "I'll curse you if you die without letting me dress you up again!"
"He'd be a disappointment if he died just like that!" Roy added from the front of Avron's group.
"It wouldn't matter," Avron said flatly. "We'll succeed either way."
Lavere silently shook her head as she ran.
"What idiots," Reoloy muttered, the corners of his lips twitching.
Soon, he was left alone in the dark, open field, shadowed by the tall trees encircling it. He extended his senses just to make sure he was alone. He found himself appreciating the one supernatural ability he currently possessed—while also recognising how far he still had to go.
Interference was unlikely now. The others would be too occupied with their own battles to come back here looking for him.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his mirror, clutching it tight—so much so that the edges dug into his skin.
"Oi, asshole," he called, glaring at the item. "Things have been quiet this whole time, so I was wondering when you'd start acting up..."
His grip tightened enough to draw blood.
"...But you're doing too much for your first prank."
A while ago, he had sensed something abnormal. It was why he had made the group take a break in the first place. He needed to be still to get a good grasp of it, so he sat on that stump and focused on finding whatever it was that had drawn his attention.
An hour into that search, he realised the source was in his own pocket. A trail of mana so faint, anyone could be excused for missing it.
He immediately knew what it was.
Reoloy stared at the mirror, the fact that he wasn't receiving a response only serving to annoy him further.
"You can't pretend you're not there," he snapped. "I already know about yo—"
Howl
It started as one, but quickly became a symphony of beastly noises ringing out from all directions.
"What's happening...?" he muttered, feeling monster presences spring up around his immediate area. He wasn't like Cisco, but he couldn't have missed out on such a large number.
His jaw tightened. "What did you do?!"
Reoloy poised himself to smash the relic into the ground.
"Gaiskas!"
Out of thin air, a glassy smile cracked open. A shrill laughter followed not long after.
"You're noisy!" a disembodied voice exclaimed. "I've helped you a lot, haven't I? Everything comes at a price!"
It cackled again.
"Bullshit," Reoloy said coldly. "Even if I didn't use the mirror, you would've pulled something like this."
His eyes narrowed.
"Sage of Mischief—Jester Gaiskas."
"Hoh?" Gaiskas hummed, its vague, smoky form circling the boy. "You know that, too? I can overlook the other things, but how do you possess knowledge of the long-forgotten past?"
Despite its jovial tone, Reoloy could sense the subtle edge in its voice.
It thought it had the upper hand on him and could throw its weight around with threats.
That pissed him off.
He opened his mouth, and distorted, unintelligible words came out while he fed his attention to the relic in his hand.
"Hm?" Gaiskas muttered before screaming in absolute agony as even the unstable form he held started to wisp apart, breaking and reforming again.
"What iiiss th— th— thiiissss?!"
"Ancient script," Reoloy replied simply. "Didn't know how it would work, but this is fine."
Howl
He glanced up at the swaying treeline, frowning at the approaching mana signals.
'Did the others make it past this encirclement?'
"Ugh..."
The spirit shifted uncontrollably, its mind clearly as scattered as its form.
"Right... you," he said blankly. "Explain. Now. Or we can go for another round of pain."
Reoloy swung the mirror in its face.
"Understood?"