I watched closely. I didn’t want to assume the worst, but with a massive, living tree standing in front of us, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It was deathly silent, save for a rustle of leaves as it bent forward, bringing Lady Sage closer to Elf.

  A swell of pressure erupted from her hand, and the veins beneath her skin glowed bright orange. The cut on Elf’s forehead sealed almost instantaneously. I couldn’t even see the skin knitting back together. It was more like closing a zip-lock bag.

  I whispered to Shave, “Does she have enough Presence for us all? Do druids even use Presence like we do?” Of everyone in the squad, Shave knew the most about magic. Elf had a better knowledge of history, though.

  Shave chuckled. “Somewhat. Their advancement is along similar lines, but it’s not as rigid. And they cannot assess their physical attributes with numbers, not like we can.”

  “Any idea what tier she—”

  “Iron,” she snapped. Her tree creature walked over to me, and from the way its wooden face-plate shifted, I got the sense that it was angry with me as well. “Do not talk about me behind my back, Duplicate.”

  I swallowed. “Sorry.”

  She held out a hand toward my shoulder, and without even pulling off the bandage or my chainmail, I knew the flesh was sealing up again. The pain faded instantly, and although it took a few seconds longer, any sign of the fox bite was gone. There wasn’t even an itch, not like with Hild’s healing. At the same time, she winced, then rubbed her own shoulder. Had she been absorbing my pain?

  “Thank you,” I said, even if I wasn’t sure if I meant it. Really, what had she been doing hiding in the wagon this whole time. She had to know that there’d been a fight and someone had to have gotten hurt.

  She tilted her head in confusion, as if I was speaking an entirely foreign language, then whistled, and her tree creature moved on, carrying her over to Romance.

  I supposed she wasn’t actually in the army yet. I didn’t know how any of this worked. But it wasn’t common decency to heal people if you could? I tried to shut it out of my mind. We were just Dupes, and she was a noblewoman. Perhaps it hadn’t even crossed her mind—I couldn’t just assume this world worked the exact same as Earth.

  I glanced at Shave again and asked, “What’s that creature called?”

  “A forest golem,” Shave replied. “Rare sight, those. They’re fiercely loyal, and they’ll only ever bond to druids.”

  “Duplicate,” Sage said, her head whipping back toward me. “What did I tell you about talking about me behind my back?”

  “Well…I was kinda talking about your forest golem, not you.”

  “His name is Morph.”

  After checking us all for injuries, she whistled to Morph and he carried her back aboard the wagon, then pulled the back flap shut with an aggressive tug.

  “Well,” I complained. “She has a bit of an attitude.”

  “And a lot of Presence,” Ticks added. “She must be near the peak of Iron.”

  “How much Presence do you need to advance to Steel?” I asked. Steel, being the next rank after Iron.

  “For us, ten full points of Presence gets you to Steel tier,” Shave replied. “For druids, I can’t say how it works. But she is close to becoming an equivalent of Steel.”

  There was a frustrated huff from within the wagon, probably because we hadn’t stopped talking behind the Lady’s back at all. The two sappers pulled their spears up, allowing the wagon through, and the coachman and the remaining mercenary passed through the gap in the fence and entered the castle estate.

  “That’s our duty done,” Shave said. “Let’s get moving. Commander Galliard will expect us back soon.”

  “The sappers’ training grounds seem awfully close to the front lines,” I remarked as we turned away.

  “It didn’t used to be that way,” Elf replied. “But with the orcs pushing south, we’re going to have more problems going forward.”

  “All the signs are there,” Shave grumbled. “Soon, the war will begin in earnest.”

  “Are we…ready?” I asked.

  Ticks snorted, Romance shook his head, and Shave said, “Don’t ask those kinds of questions. You don’t want anyone to think you’re doubting the Warlord’s judgement. He’ll send us what resources he can.”

  “Right. Sorry.”

  “Still fantasizing about joining the SAP?” Elf asked.

  I winced. “Uh, perhaps more than ever.”

  Ticks shook his head and scoffed. “Ninety percent of them die before they finish their term. Most of them are such zealots that they stay for another term of employment, and then they get themselves killed anyway.”

  “And? Are the rates for us that much better?”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Down here, yes,” Shave said.

  “Shouldn’t that apply to sappers too, then?” I shook my head. "I don't want to live the rest of my life as nothing!"

  Romance pointed back over his shoulder with his thumb, aiming at the speck in the distance—Luiger’s dead body. "That's nothing. Sticking your neck out, that'll get you killed. Just accept it. Accept your name."

  “Accept my name?” I tightened my grip on my spear. “I’m Levi. I’ve always been.”

  “You’re not a sir, not a lord,” said Shave.

  “Certainly not a king,” Elf added.

  “What if that didn’t matter?”

  “You’ll be sorely disappointed, Levi,” said Romance.

  I refused to acknowledge that. I just kept walking.

  We made good time as we retraced our route across the countryside. Without a wagon, we could take shortcuts along less-trodden roads, which improved our pace. It also meant we could pass through villages and towns, because we didn’t have to avoid the crowded streets and worry about the wagon getting stuck. We could just worm our way through the crowds.

  There were plenty of settlements, and most of them didn’t have defensive walls—just houses with thatched or sod roofs. We passed another Dupe camp with its palisade, and it was the closest thing to a defensive outpost there was. We absolutely weren’t ready, but if it was impolite to say, no one would be ready until it was too late.

  Once, when we entered a village, I tried dropping hints to the guards outside, mentioning how we’d encountered orc raiders, but they shrugged. Either they didn’t believe me or they just couldn’t do anything about it. Small towns had tight budgets, and the reeves—who were like mayors—couldn’t really spare anything to build a wall.

  On the fourth day after departing from Castle Urcia, we passed through a village that had a few burnt houses at its edge. Shave and the others kept their heads down as we passed through, but we stopped at a Dupe supply post to refill our kit bags with rations.

  As we refilled our supplies, I asked a non-Dupe clerk, “What happened here?” He was the only person in the building, and he was still an employee of the military, even if he wasn’t directly in a combat role.

  “Orc scouts,” he replied. “Attacked at night.”

  I winced. “What about the battalion? I thought the 386th was guarding this area.”

  The clerk chuckled. “What can they do, hm? They didn’t know about it until it was too late, and though there were a few guards around the city, it wasn’t enough. They’re an hour's trek out, still, and this isn’t easy country to cross.”

  My wince grew worse as I learned more. “Were there city guards?”

  “A squad of Dupes were posted here, and they did their best to fend off the orcs. They lost four men in the process. We’ve doubled the guard now, but…the orcs took a few prisoners.”

  I shut my eyes. “Did they go after them?”

  “They didn’t have enough, and the 386th can’t spare the men to go after them. Especially not after they’ve doubled the guard.”

  “Levi, come on,” Romance said. “We don’t have all day. Stop chatting up the clerk.”

  “That’s not what chatting up means,” I replied, chasing after the rest of my squad. We’d filled our kit bags with new rations, and we were ready to keep moving. “You need to get some better sayings.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Romance said. “You were talking to him.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You know, for a guy who got his name because he got caught with a romance novel, you don’t seem too well-versed in the slang.”

  “Or maybe I was distracting you.”

  “Maybe you’re just trying to save face,” I countered. “Wait, distracting me from what?”

  “Nothing,” Shave said.

  “The orc raid?” I replied. “I didn’t need to be distracted from it…I mean, I was gonna ask you where they would’ve taken the prisoners, but…”

  “Exactly,” Elf said. “You wanted to go after them, didn’t you.”

  “Well…” I chewed the inside of my lip. “How can we just leave them? We’re soldiers of Gate, aren’t we? Sworn to its service.”

  “In a twist of irony, you’re the only one who hasn’t sworn an oath to the kingdom,” Romance replied. “Well, your body has, I suppose, but I doubt you remember that.”

  “Yeah, but…I mean, come on, we have to do something. We’ve caught up and been going fast. Galliard won’t expect us back for a little while.”

  “They would’ve taken them to a Labyrinth entrance,” Shave said.

  “Sarge, you’re not seriously thinking about going after them…” Elf groaned.

  “Levi’s right. We’re soldiers of Gate.”

  “We didn’t have much of a choice in the matter…” Ticks grumbled. “And if another one of my brothers dies on this mission, I’m going to wring the neck of whoever’s responsible.”

  “But you all would’ve let Luiger go free if I hadn’t said anything, and he was directly responsible,” I said. I stopped, then refocused on something Shave had said. “What’s a Labyrinth?”

  “There’s a network of ancient tunnels beneath the world,” Shave replied. “Filled with all sorts of beasts—and I say beasts, because not all of them are fallen. They’re not creatures of vorghul, not like the orcs. They’ll kill orcs and men alike.” He crossed his arm. “Very few Path-walkers can venture deep into them, and neither can the orcs—thank the Pillar for that.”

  “But they’ll sometimes set up temporary raiding bases in the Labyrinth,” Elf said. “In the shallow rooms, of course, after clearing out the beasts.”

  “Most importantly, spending time inside the Labyrinth will greatly improve the speed that you condense a Skill, and killing a monster in the Labyrinth is guaranteed to drop a Presence,” Shave said. “We’ve skipped out on plenty of training with this jaunt. It would be a good opportunity to at least maintain ourselves.”

  Elf, Romance, and Ticks all groaned. I grinned. Extra training? I couldn’t say no to that.

  “It won’t be long,” Shave said. “We get in, we rescue the prisoners, and we get out.”

  He turned to the east slightly, adjusting his course and stepping off the rugged trail. “There should be a Labyrinth entrance nearby. If my memory serves me right, we should reach it by sundown.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It took us a little longer than expected to find the Labyrinth, and we had to ask around with the locals a little bit—so when we arrived, by some cruel joke, it was already dark out.

  The entrance to the Labyrinth was unassuming, nestled in amongst a patch of trees in a shallow valley. I wouldn’t have seen it even during the daytime unless I’d practically crashed into it.

  It was a horizontal doorway, laying flush with the ground like a trapdoor. Leaf litter and fallen pine needles were scattered over the rectangular stone frame, and it had pillar-shaped carvings. If I had to guess, it looked like something ripped straight out of Ancient Rome. A stairway led into the depths, delving into pitch-black tunnels.

  “No fires,” Shave said. “We camp outside for the night—there’s no sense going in there while we’re tired. But we’d best hide in the woods in case more orcs come out.”

  “Will any beasts leave the Labyrinth?” I asked.

  “Only rarely,” Shave replied. “Now, no questions. Get some sleep. In the morning, we delve.”