The sun vanished over the peaks, and they resumed their journey. Rowan was enthused, knowing he could hold his AoE buff active for more than the required running time. As he jogged shoulder to shoulder with Nottie, he asked: “What's your level?”

  “Eighty. How old are you?” the girl asked without turning her head.

  “I’m twenty-six, why?”

  “What?” Nottie tripped and almost fell. "I thought you were like fifty or something."

  “C’mon! I don't look fifty,” Rowan snorted.

  “Sorry… I’m used to elf ages. I’m thirty-one.”

  It was Rowan's turn to trip. “You’re kidding me! You look like sixteen. You age slower or something?"

  "We’re elves, duh."

  "And how long do you live?”

  “It depends on the tier. But at legendary, you could live nearly as long as an elf, so it’s not a significant difference in the long run. I plan to marry a human,” she whispered for the last part. “They are much more relaxed about getting drunk and having sex with multiple partners.”

  Rowan faked a cough and grew weary; from that moment on, they ran in silence. They walked for an hour at midnight before running again. As before, they avoided highways and resorts, opting for dirt roads or hiking trails. The enveloping darkness acted as a strong deterrent, keeping anyone away.

  Two miles from their destination, Rowan’s phone buzzed with a unique alarm signal reserved solely for him and his wives. He read the message and accelerated, drawing closer to the War Chief. “Can we have a word?”

  “Of course, Thane. Group, please wait for us at that sign.” The youngsters sprinted, eager for a break, and stopped thirty yards ahead while the two slowed to a brisk walking rhythm.

  “Grace, my wife, texted me: I feel impending danger. She’s a Seer. Maybe it’s wiser to turn back?”

  “It’s all right,” the elf nodded. “I know what she’s talking about, and I was going to let you in on the secret anyway. I paid a group of goblins to attack us," the elf made air quotes. "They'll pretend to be scared away by the kids, which will boost the youngsters' self-confidence, hopefully leading to good perks. Now that you know, maybe you can feign that Nottie saves your life. That would help a lot.”

  “Oh, shit!” Rowan exclaimed after his phone buzzed again.

  “Do you want to go behind that mound?” the elf pointed. “I have some spare toilet paper.”

  “It’s just an expression. This is worse than I thought. Another message, this time from Cora. She says: I'm in Africa. The Neek spies captured a Goblinoid merc group and learned about the Elves' journey. They recruited Vladivostokans and some rogue elements of the Canadian military. They plan to kill the kids as revenge to send you a message. They don't know you're there. I decided to negotiate with Harbin. In exchange for more cores, the Dictator’s army teleports to Harbin and attacks Vladivostok. The System has approved the Incursion. Break the northern encirclement using the in-between, hide in the mountains, and contact Viscardi for extraction.

  “She also sent me a satellite photo.” Rowan turned his phone so the elf could see the screen.

  The image showed their position and appeared to have been taken moments before. All the enemies were tagged neatly. Their group was clearly visible, but so were the troops surrounding them. At the upper part of the valley, they were about to enter a group of several hundred Neeks and military personnel dressed in white camouflage clothing. On the flanks, having the high ground, a few dozen Vladivostokan Awakened warriors in armor, all of max Level. Behind the Elves, on the plain, keeping their distance, were groups with snowmobiles, tagged as scouts.

  "Come here, we have to talk!" Iglotal yelled. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Rowan. "This is all my fault."

  Rowan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to overcome his panic. He was the only one around with a guaranteed Rezz. He knew the list by heart.

  "What's up?" Nottie asked, arriving near the two adults, followed by the rest of the teenagers.

  “We're about to be ambushed by superior forces," Rowan said deadpanned. "They got wind of the trek and want to get revenge on me through you. They already have eyes on us."

  "What's the plan?” a girl asked. Blonde and fair-skinned, she made a yin-yang contrast with Nottie's raven hair and darker complexion.

  “We each take a Mana Potion and run as fast as we can,” Inglital said.

  Rowan shook his head. "They'll hunt us down with their snowmobiles. We go on after pretending we just had a friendly chat. Once deep in the valley, I'll put us all in the in-between, and we run up to the ridge. We eliminate some of the hostiles along the way to create panic. The Neeks are cowards. After that, we lose ourselves in the forests and ask for an extraction. However, I first need to be aware of the enemy's position. Nottie and I will mix our AoEs and send them out in a very thin layer."

  “Oh, Nottie and the Thane are mixing things together,” a boy joked.

  Nottie shook her fist at him. “Just you wait, Magnus. I’ll skin you alive.”

  Rowan ignored the exchange and prepared his Perk. "Nottie, go first, and I’ll push your AoE.”

  The girl shivered and started her Perk. Rowan could tell it was more intense now. He unleashed his ability at a higher strength, just as he had the first time he had used it. The cold and darkness merged into a dark fog, and then he sent an impulse that spread like the shockwave of an explosion. Soon, the ring of cold and darkness became invisible and weak, yet still progressing rapidly, for half a mile, a full mile, two, three... Every hostile target it touched, even with a snowflake or a speck of frost, was now tagged on Rowan's targeting sensor.

  “My Mana Sense has evolved into Mana Radar!” Nottie exclaimed. “Thank you so much.”

  “Keep your voice low,” Rowan blurted with a growl. “What weapons and armor do you have?”

  "Our fur coats are medium armor, and we each have spears," the blonde girl said. "I also have a sword, and I’m trained with firearms."

  “Welcome to America.” Rowan pulled two revolvers from his inventory, handing one to her and the other to Inglotal, along with a couple of speed loaders. “Point and shoot. Technoforge-made hollow points can penetrate Awakened armor and Toughness below Threshold three. Alright, everyone, let's move. Now, act as if you're cheering for me after a motivational speech, and let's go.”

  "Yay!" The youngsters raised their spears high into the air. Only one worried face was visible: Inglotal's. Either oblivious to the danger due to their youth or trusting him too much, the young elves' expressions showed nothing but determination.

  “I heard you can kill people from inside The Space. Is that true?” the girl with the gun asked as she walked.

  “Yep.”

  “Neat. However. I prefer fighting face to face, though.”

  “Have you fought for real before?”

  The girl sighed, puckering. “Nope. I guess this is a good place to start.”

  Rowan giggled, amused by her attitude. “What’s your name?”

  “Nerio.”

  “Like the Roman war goddess? There’s a statue in… never mind. May you gloriously follow in her footsteps."

  "Thank you," she bowed her head.

  "Everyone, take a Mana Potion. Keep Health Potions handy, and let me know if you need any," Rowan said. There was no response, so the potions were put away. Leading the way into the valley, Rowan examined his display. The enemies, though invisible to the naked eye, were still apparent. There was no movement now, but they were most likely preparing for an ambush.

  “We dash toward the ridge when I say go. Three… two… one… GO!”

  The group advanced as one, unfazed by The Space; after all, they had encountered it before when leaving the Shore dungeon. Twenty seconds later, they reached the enemy's first line but continued to press forward relentlessly.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  "Halt," Rowan yelled, stopping amidst a group of six Vladivostokan warriors hiding behind a large rock formation, an ambush on the most evident escape path. He pushed his threads into their heads and bellowed: "Stay hidden behind the rocks," before exiting The Space. All the warriors collapsed, dead, without a squeak. One of his stacks had been consumed; he had started with eight and was now down to seven.

  "Where did they go?" someone yelled in the valley.

  "Don't leave cover," he ordered. Rising, Rowan unleashed a flurry of Forest Fire, sweeping his hands in a circle. This was not the time to be squeamish. Canadian forests burned regularly; it was part of the natural cycle. He hoped the fire would remain contained within the valley, but he had to do what was necessary. Rowan followed with a maximum-strength Snowstorm in cone AoE form. It obliterated everything in its path, including incoming bullets and soldiers. Behind him, gunshots echoed—Inglotal and the girl.

  “Stay where you are; we're going into The Space again,” Rowan screamed. Scores of foes rushed up the slope, assaulting their position. Before they arrived, Rowan took the four claymore mines from his inventory and threw them in an arc toward the parked snowmobiles below. The explosions caused many casualties among the Neeks and regular soldiers; unfortunately, the Vladivostokans remained unscathed. Being a Classed with heavy armor had its advantages.

  The remaining enemies spread out, which was a good tactic. "Come," Rowan yelled, activating a third stack of the Trip and ascending the slope. Along the way, he glanced at the valley behind him. It was on fire. Most of the enemies tried to escape the raging flames, running westward. Raising his hand, Rowan halted the group, pointing at the rock formations and trees. "Take cover."

  Leaving The Space and running forward for twenty yards, he activated Snowstorm around him at a mild intensity and short range, adding Forest Fire to the mix. The blizzard extracted heat from the environment, redirecting it to the fire. He was now enveloped in an aura of both R?svelg’s aspects, disintegrating any projectiles thrown his way.

  You have unlocked Elemental Shield, a facet of both The Cold Wind and Fire Wind.

  Profiting from his momentary invulnerability, he shot a few bursts of Snowstorm and Forest Fire again.

  "We move!" Rowan shouted, rejoining the group. The fourth stack of the Trip managed to carry them over the ridge. They had broken the encirclement- or so they believed. The youngsters relaxed and spread out. Nottie stepped out of the area covered by his Perk, right into the midst of another group of enemies: six Neeks armed with guns and as many Russians wielding spears and swords.

  Nottie was shot. Magnus dashed outside, shielding her with his body, and was shot as well. Rowan charged forward, projecting his filaments into the Neeks to divert the ranged attacks from their backs, then exited The Space, launching himself at the Russians, flourishing his weapon in a whirl of steel. The Russians’ armor blocked the threads, and they were skilled fighters, regrouping as expected.

  "Catch their weapons!" Nerio, the blonde girl, yelled, joining Rowan, a sword in her right hand and the revolver in her left.

  It made sense. In a blink, instead of aiming his threads toward the bodies, Rowan caught the enemies' spears and sabers in his threads' grip, pushing or pulling whatever was necessary to keep them out of balance. Nerio shot three Russians in the head, twice, while running forward and beheading a fourth, then a fifth with a reverse swing, and jumping at the sixth, throwing him down, and crushing his head under her heel. All while roaring with laughter.

  Rowan sprinted back toward Nottie. A few youngsters and Inglotal were casting heals, and he also contributed his Combat Heal. The girl was barely breathing while the boy was gone; his body had been consumed by the Mana.

  “Fuck…” Rowan choked. As Nottie gasped, regaining consciousness, he yelled. “Hide in the forest. I’m going back to assess the situation.”

  “I'll come with you; we'll kill them all!” Nerio yelled, her eyes on fire.

  “No! I'm the only one who can Rezz.”

  The girl growled. The Shadow Elves rushed down the slope as he climbed back up the ridge to take a peek. The fire had extinguished more quickly than anticipated. He could see Neek Elemental Wizards attempting to tame the flames or counter them with summoned rain. Many enemies remained unharmed, and several vehicles were still operational. About fifty foes on snowmobiles were entering the valley from the southwest- those scouts who had been at the back at the beginning.

  On top of that, a dozen Russians were coming up the slope, running. "You don't know when to quit, don't you?" he roared, rushing to meet them.

  His Trip stacks were precious and better used at protecting the youngsters, but he had half of his Mana. The Svartálfar’s Stare he threw at the first Russian was a crit. The individual—man or woman, Rowan couldn't know—collapsed to their knees, screaming and grabbing their face. Then the empty armor fell on the ground, specks of blue light coming out of it.

  Catching the next enemy's legs with two threads, Rowan impaled him through the armpit gaps and the visor with the other four filaments. Throwing a cone of Snowstorm to throw the Russians off the cliff didn't work. One of their Tanks had a Perk offering Stability, or so the brief notification said. The next Stare also failed.

  The good part was that the trail was narrow, and he could face them in groups of two. Transforming his weapon into a rifle, Rowan made a Russian's head explode with a Mana Bullet. He changed weaponry to a Barong machete and a shield and started retreating up the slope. The combination was good, but the Vladivostokans were not dumb. The ones in the front started to use short swords as well, while those in the back poked at him with spears.

  He summoned the Elemental Shield. It held well; the hits that got through and touched his armor felt weak and did next to no damage. Changing his weapon to threads again, he managed to skewer another Russian. Still, he attracted a few stronger hits from the rest. The threads were good at attacking and CC, but not so much at parrying.

  A couple of enemies were coming to the front, and Rowan's senses read what would happen like an open book. An off-tank was going to Charge or Bash at him, and while at that, the Rogue would go behind to stab him, while the rest would attack with spears. A good tactic, he conceded, grinding his teeth. It looked like going into The Space was the only option. The question was whether to run or try to deal with all the Russians within one stack somehow.

  Before he decided, the Tank charged, but his assault was met in the air by someone else's Dash, and the man literally exploded into pieces. Cutting the Rogue in two with an oblique strike, Nerio shoved the next Russian off the hill with her shoulder and shot the next one through the visor space with Rowan's revolver. A bear of a man with a beard so big it spread out of the helmet raised his hand in a signal gesture, and in seconds, the four surviving Russians fled down the valley with tremendous speed.

  Of course, a teenager won't obey orders! Rowan groaned, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder to halt her pursuit. "Where did you learn to fight like this?" he asked, recalling the girl’s performance on the ridge.

  "I'm a champion at HEMA, short for Historical Elven Martial Arts," she explained, nonplussed.

  “OK, let’s scram. There’s still a lot of them.”

  You are pinged with a private parley offer from Flame, Griffinoid Intergalactic Mercenary (she/her). The Intergalactic Mercenary has taken a System Oath not to harm you. If you accept the Parley, Flame will approach: select Y/N. A copy of this message has been sent to Nerio Fern to prevent her from engaging in hostility.

  This is a crazy day. What the heck does a Merc want?

  He pressed Yes. A few moments later, a shooting star approached at a very fast speed, landing near them. The Merc's helmet had an unusual oblong shape toward the back.

  "It's a Griffinoid. Make sure you reply with a rhyme for the last word they say, or they get offended," Nerio whispered in Rowan's ear.

  “You want to talk, talk? Please be brief,” Rowan addressed the Merc

  “Of course, chief,” the Merc said. “The Neeks betrayeth us, and now revenge is due."

  "Here's my cue," Nerio interjected. "You want to help us in this brawl?"

  "But it's your call," the Merc bowed toward Rowan. "If you accept, I'll do my best."

  What the fuck, really? Rhymes? "Be my guest," Rowan gestured toward the valley. Down there, the Russians had arrived and were gesturing vividly. From what he could guess, it was about getting out of the gorge on snowmobiles and going around, trying to catch up with the Night Elves’ group. Persistent bastards!

  The Merc produced a short-barreled shoulder rocket launcher and fired it. Seconds later, a bright explosion engulfed the mountain. Rowan instinctively entered The Space, taking Nerio and the Merc with him. Clouds of dust, debris, and heat erupted out, fortunately without reaching them.

  "What the fuck, a nuke?" he yelled.

  "Nothing serious, you'll just puke," the Merc replied.

  "Radiation is nothing for Awakened; you can let go," Nerio told Rowan.

  As soon as he dismissed the Joint Trip, the Mercenary addressed him again: "Our Boss, The Smuggler, offers you a deal. Give us the Sensor and ten cores of the highest quality. She pardons Blackswarm and opens a line of smuggling with Earth. No one else will dareth approach your planet with the Warlord roaming free.”

  “I see…” Rowan nodded. “A question first. Your kind attacked our allies multiple times. How can I trust you?”

  “Your words ring true. However, it is not this Merc's team that did it. The Apian group has vanished; they must be the guilty party. Now, do you consider our proposition proper?”

  “Counteroffer. Six cores of any kind, and you work for us until we finish our business with the cores. The Sensor was stolen, but it will be yours after we recover it.”

  “Hahaha…” the Merc roared in laughter. “You have no wit? In a weaker position than thought are you, yet you asketh for more?”

  “Yeah, Shakespeare, I asketh for more because this is war!" Rowan sneered. "Think: What do you need that only I can provide? Do you have a base, perchance? A safe haven?”

  “Your offer is acknowledged, raven. Give us access to your County, attuneth us to your Town’s Rezz, and we’ll do your bidding.”

  “Fitting. Very well,” Rowan said.

  “Farewell,” the Merc said, taking flight.

  "Rhymes, of all things… This is so crazy…" Rowan sighed, inspecting his notifications.

  You have been deemed the third major contributor to the killing of a force of nine hundred soldiers, sixty Vladivostokan warriors, and fifty Neeks. Second contributor: Nerio. First contributor: Intergalactic Mercenary Flame. You have cleared the Quest: Complete the hike. +1 AP. You have completed the Quest: Survive Ambush. Secret subquest: You have led your fledgling warriors in battle and won, saving 10/12 of the Raid members. +10 AP.

  XP gains have been postponed.

  Rowan’s heart skipped a beat. “Who else died?” he screamed, fearing his Healing had been sloppy, and Nottie succumbed to her wounds.

  “Inglotal shot himself,” Nerio sighed. "It was on our private chat. Losing Magnus broke him."

  “Oh my God… Was he related to that kid?"

  "No… but he did love each of us like his own."

  "May he rest in peace…”

  There was one more notification, and he chose Yes as soon as he read it.

  I, the Warlord, have witnessed your performance in an almost hopeless battle and graded it at 90%: Great. Reward: Altruistic choice. Accept to divert all the XP you gained in this battle to the young Elves: Y/N