Chapitre 212: A Lesson of Modesty

Munifex Justus fidgeted anxiously. He tightly gripped his shield and examined his sword. It belonged to his father and was kept in excellent condition. It was gifted to him when he joined the Rhodok adventuring company. The last thing he wanted was to have a letter delivered to his family detailing his death.

"We're fleeing east into the forest?" Justus frowned in worry, "What if there's more enemies there?"

Zehr glanced past Justus, "Munifex Rena, explain to Justus what a sector of fire is."

The starry-eyed archer smirked arrogantly, "Because the kobolds are firing their crossbows from the west, they wouldn't station any troops east, or they'd get caught in the crossfire."

"Do you understand?" Zehr inquired.

"Yes, Decanus..." Justus considered running into the hail of crossbow fire, himself, to avoid the embarrassment of his stupid question.

"Good." Zehr nodded, a perfect picture of a calm, veteran Decanus, "You there, Archer. It looks like at least two tent groups that way are bunkered down. Send word to as many Decani as you can."

"At once, Decanus," The veteran archer dashed off, firing a chance shot at the kobolds as he went.

Zehr turned to the grey bearded veteran, "Do we all have throwing spears?"

The Munifices swapped their weapons, each holding their issued pilum.

"What are we waiting for?" Justus asked, impatience clear on his face.

The sound of clay pots breaking and shattering surrounded the tent group in droves.

"What the hells was that?!" Modestus yelled. The grey bearded veteran furrowed his brows in worry.

Gianna picked up a broken clay fragment and turned it over, revealing a yellowish, viscous liquid, "This is..."

Zehr peeked over to the wagons ahead, "It's pitch. Your moment will arrive shortly, Munifex Justus."

"Wait-wait-wait, hold on!" Rena whined, "Pitch burns! Wait! Pitch EXPLODES!!"

In a mix of men's desperate battlecries and furious kobold barking, a terrifically loud explosion boomed.

Justus felt a chill run down his spine. Coordinated crossbow fire. Traps. Pitch pots. He had underestimated the craftiness of the kobolds. Decanus Caelistis, too. The whole Flame-taken company had underestimated the beasts.

Why the hells did he think the kobolds were any less intelligent or ruthless than humans?

Zehr took a deep breath in, "READDYYYYY!!!! PILA!!!"

The Munifices of Justus' tent group turned while remaining in the kneeling position, a pilum in each of their right hands.

Explosions boomed throughout the trail, the flames' heat causing sweat to pour down Justus' face. Their own wagon lit in a blaze of flame.

Men were screaming, dying all around them. Justus didn't know when he had pissed himself, but he was not the only one in his tent group who had done so.

Zehr noticed Justus' staring and gave a solemn nod.

Justus gulped hard and nodded back.

"TARGETS!!" Zehr yelled.

As one, the Munifices of three tent groups stood up and threw their pila.

"MOVE!!" Zehr took off.

Justus sprinted after him, keeping sight of the Decanus' crest.

...

"I... I can't... I can't run... anymore," Rena spoke between her gasps for breath.

Justus glared at the lightly-armored archer. What she wore was far lighter than what he did. He, too, was gasping for precious air and couldn't bother to respond. The mad dash into the forest was the most terrified he'd ever been. Munifices around him hit snare traps, pit traps, or fell to crossbow bolts.

Zehr was the fastest man he'd ever seen, dashing ahead of them all and even disabling one of the snare traps with his sword... and the man was barely breathing hard. They had been rushing for nearly 20 minutes, bounding over brush and navigating through trees. And after that, they slowed their pace to a quick march for at least a bell.

"C... carry me, Justus," Rena squeaked.

"Not interested," he responded.

Decanus Zehr lifted up his helmet visor, revealing green hair, golden eyes, and a young face. He addressed the slightly taller, grey bearded veteran, "Brother-Munifex, what was your name, again?"

"You honor me, Decanus. My name is Modestus."

The old man had run nearly as fast as Justus and Rena but was still able to keep a semblance of his decorum in not gasping and choking.

"A fitting name," Zehr nodded.

"The Flame saw fit to make me immortal, Decanus."

"Very well, Brother-Immortal." Zehr chuckled, "Report."

Modestus frowned and averted his gaze, "We have about 6 tent groups, but including casualties, we have 4 groups and 3 Decani amongst them..."

"Does that number include myself?"

"Tch. Of course, Decanus," The old man scoffed and wiped his brow. Sweat continued to pour down his grizzled features.

"And our own group?" Zehr scanned the area.

The collective members of the Rhodok adventuring company had taken shelter underneath a rocky outcropping near a freshwater stream. Over a dozen men, including a 4th Decanus, were too injured to continue the march or dying.

Modestus continued his report, "Narcissus has a sprained ankle from a pit trap and Placidus took a bolt to his back, but they'll both live. Gianna is seeing to them now."

"9 out of 10." Zehr nodded, catching Justus' gaze, "We were lucky."

Modestus chuckled, "The fish is our good luck charm. Did you hear, earlier? That one's the Hero of Leopardon."

Justus felt his face heat up from the attention. He had done nothing to deserve his title as hero. And the one who did deserve the credit was staring at him with judgmental eyes.

Rena popped up, suddenly full of energy, "And they call me the Bitch of Leopardon!! Err... I mean Witch! Witch of Leopardon!"

Zehr narrowed his eyes as he approached. Was he angry? Justus immediately stood up straighter. His idiot childhood friend should know better than to address a Decanus so casually, even if Zehr was only recently promoted.

"I would prefer to call you Rena..." The Decanus rained an eyebrow, "If that's quite alright with you?"

"Ohhhhhh~♥ ...Catch me," Rena swayed back, falling into Justus' surprised arms.

As heavy as Rena was, Justus was too surprised by Zehr's nonchalance to dodge. Zehr was a veteran Munifex and knew how to act according to military protocol. By all means, he should have been as strict as Caelistis and... every Decanus he had met.

"I'm no hero, Decanus." Justus frowned, "I'm just a fish."

"Tss," Zehr scoffed, "You just survived the first half of a battle. You're not a fish, anymore."

"Haha, agreed." Modestus laughed. "He's a good kid, I'm telling you."

Zehr raised an eyebrow, "Perhaps you could learn a lesson of modesty from the young man, Brother-Immortal."

The older man revealed a crooked grin, "Nah. I know everything there is to know about being modest."

"Hm. Of course, you do."

"Decanus..." Something about what Zehr said didn't sit right with Justus, "What do you mean... by... the first half?"

L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS
CouchSurfingDragon

Mile: A Tyrion mile is equivalent to 0.9 imperial miles or 1.5 km

Bell: An hour

...

There is a difference between being strict and just being an arse to your juniors. Act with professionalism and courtesy. It costs you nothing and wins you the respect of your peers.

commentaire Commentaire 6

Voter

ENVOYER LE CADEAU

Load failed, please RETRY