“Well, that’s not good.” Alex sighed from a nearby hilltop as he and the other members of the staff watched the armies begin to clash. While it was pretty profitable to merely run around sacking random villages and baiting the enemy to do the dirty work, a set piece battle is unavoidable.

  Though calling them armies would be somewhat overstating things, as neither formations really numbered more than a few scores of hapless fools. Yet that’s normal for this world. It’s not as if numbers mean much in a world where the gulf between greatness and mundane was such that there’s nothing one can do unless one’s truly blessed. And so most don’t, and the few who do tend to end up dying at the hands of the truly great ones. Great not in the sense of their moral virtues, which most had little to none in the way of, but simply in the sense of raw power.

  Perhaps raw power is the arbiter of morality of this world.

  The battle had started off somewhat promising. They managed to scrounge enough xp to ship out a couple of falconets, which were doing their job of blasting through the enemy archers like bowling balls knocking down pins, a mostly meaningless task only good for harvesting more xp for better shipments down the line. Meanwhile the pikes and a shipment of Rodeleros Alex managed to send in at the last minute are holding the line against the enemy knights…

  … or they had been, until a figure in white armor slammed into them. Now they’re just chunks of meat and ragdolls strewn about. The fate of any little people when in the path of someone who matters to the plot.

  “It’s to be expected, for a hero will always be summoned to save the day.” Minaev spat out, flinching reflexively at the mere presence of a hero, and the implications for the rest of them: Certainly nothing good, and definitely not pleasant, probably very likely to be bloody in some form or fashion.

  “Well, he’ll certainly end up becoming a villain and executed by the state as a traitor, as is tradition.” Омич pointed out in his usual deadpanned tone while looking at the general direction of their own warlord. Alex merely snorted at the implied jab.

  “That would be great if we are still alive to witness it, and not dead at his hands.” Minaev pointed out, while throwing worrying glances around, as if trying to find an escape route of some sort. They might all had plans, but somehow the obvious notion that the loyalists would summon another hero in short order managed to slip through everyone’s minds, despite being the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Shit. Guess it’s unavoidable.” Alex muttered to himself as he shifted through his deck, after a moment seemingly found what he’s looking for. “Oof, that’s a bit stiff, but what’s the point of coins if not meant to be spent?” he noted as he clicked on that card. As the card lost its glow and faded away a group of musket trotting brigands walked up to him, almost as if they’re summoned from out of the smoke of battle. “Follow me.” He said while gesturing to Омич.

  “You know that I can’t heal you in the middle of combat?” Омич noted. Alex merely shrugged.

  “There’ll be plenty of time for that.” He simply replied.

  ……

  It was not even a contest. In a world full of betrayals and falls of corruption the only way to ensure victory was to summon an ever escalating series of powerful heroes, and the latest schmuck was no different. Within moments of coming into contact, the fighting was all but over, with the bodies of brigands sprawling about and Alex himself within a hair’s breadth of death, the white knight standing over him- but not that of an imminent triumph, as even without seeing the face behind the helmet there’s something off about his aura.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Any last words you vile traitor?” The white knight asked, the words came out in fits, as if read in a script without confidence.

  “Is it too late to ask for mercy?” Alex asked, in between spitting out gobs of blood. “I’ll promise to leave this place as long as justice prevails in this land.” It’s hard to gauge his sincerity given his obvious physical state, but the phrasing of the words themselves would set off the alarm bells of any normal person.

  But Alex has guessed well, and it was guesswork as the sudden appearance of the white knight had caught him off guard as well.

  “What worth is your promise, you who have already broken your word before?” The white knight pointed out, not unreasonably, though also missing the trees for the forest.

  “Well, he got you there.” Омич noted sardonically, all the while still standing to the side, unharmed and unbothered by the fighting still raging around.

  “Damn.” Alex sighed. “Well, if I break my word this time you can always beat my ass again.” He offered. It was a long shot, but then if the world and those now within it are just stupid enough…

  “Fair enough.” The white knight said surprisingly as he watched Alex get back up as the latter’s hp reached back up to the threathold. “Now take your hordes of scoundrels and get the hell out of these lands!”

  “Will do, will do.” Alex muttered as he started to turn around, stopping in mid action as if something came up to his mind. “By the way, simping for the princess isn’t gonna get you laid.”

  “How dare you-” Whatever the rest of the suitable long rant in defense of his lady was cut off as Alex and Омич beat their hastily retreat, soon followed by the rest of the rabble not befitting to be called an army.

  The war is over.

  Good has once again triumphed over evil at the last minute.

  All is right with the world…

  ------

  “So that’s it? We’re going back?” Minaev asked as the gaggle trudged through the sea of mud. The rain had stopped a bit prior, but the miseries of the world and the soul remains.

  “For the moment, yes.” Alex replied, looking little worse for wear. For though Омич’s weirdass magic had stitched him up pretty well, some things cannot be erased even by outworldly powers.

  “And what if they chase us all the way back?” Minaev pointed out, not unreasonably.

  “Like they didn’t with what’s left of the demonic hordes?” Alex quipped, with more than a tinge of bitterness baked into those words, unfinished business and all that. Not that it was really his business in the first place, he who not of this world to begin with, but old habits die hard.

  “As if their existence is all that envious.” Омич said in a half whisper.

  “Well never mind them.” Alex suddenly said, turning towards the other two. “I would like you two to head back to the capital, and pretend to repent.”

  “What?!? As if they would let blatant traitors back in just like that!” Minaev scoffed at the sheer outrageousness of the suggestion.

  “Well, obviously not for free, but we have enough coins to spare.” Alex belatedly replied.

  “That’s true.” Minaev admitted. The past few shipments Alex pulled have netted a sizable amount of coins each, not to mention his own accounting skills have also amassed a healthy nestegg of resources. “But to what end? To pervert justice?”

  “No, quite the opposite.” Alex said, narrowing his eyes. “I want that money to see the justice of the land through.”

  Minaev quickly took the hint. A handful of months back he would have thought the whole line of thought to be completely preposterous, but now? Now that’s just par for the course.

  Yes, of course justice will prevail, as is tradition.