"Gather! Quickly!" Alain shouted with all his might in the ear-splitting bells' storm. He grimaced, running to yet another house. Covering his ears meant losing time, potential deaths, less revenue. Unacceptable. He shouted again. "What are you doing?! Quicker, quicker, the administrator ordered it!"

  Villagers frantically slammed open doors, rushing oppositely with spears, forks, bows, and sticks. Their hands were shaking, like they were in the decade-day disaster. Who wouldn't be fearful when raided by enemies in number so high that general mobilization was decreed?

  Alain suddenly stopped and stepped backward at the glimpse of a man readying his horse.

  "Louis? What are you doing?"

  "I'm leaving." The village's administrator answered, checking the bag of food hung on the horse.

  "You're leaving?" he repeated dumbly. At this time?

  Louis rose one foot into the stirrups and leaped with difficulty his dancing belly on the horse. He adjusted his balance, then nodded, ready to strain the guiding ropes. As he did so, he felt a grip on his arm and turned, frowning. "What?"

  "Didn’t you order the mobilization?"

  "Seeing you followed my word, you should know the answer. And now, I need to go."

  "And the raid?"

  "Take the honor." He chuckled.

  "A lord should take part in the fight. If not, they might see you as weaker and rebel. "

  "Don’t play the innocent; you have much less to lose than I do. I can go to classic raid, but not this one – probabilities are against me. You, on the other hand, have proportionally much more to gain, you just have to take that opportunity, and, who knows? Maybe you’ll gain some riches and buy a servant or two. Will sure add to your life’s peacefulness."

  Alain watched him leave, then headed to the central place.

  Hundreds of villagers were gathered. Most had weapons made of fragile wood or farming tools with low levels of impure energy - The imperial demands for cultivation talents left terrible results on the village's average cultivation. Only thirty-some household heads and mercenaries - mostly men - had one or more good spears, multiple wood shields, and a chest multi-layered garment – a gambeson – for protection.

  The earth trembled as violet creatures charged toward the fortification.

  Alain hurriedly climbed the ladder, two support pieces of wood at a time. The wood slightly rusted his hand, awakening his body. His eyes darted into the distance.

  He gasped at the wave of demonic creatures rushing, their sizes varying from half a human to twice one - most seemed like beasts. They were before demons corrupted them. Their density made them look like water.

  He hurriedly switched to his right, where three fires burned in the distance - each representing a hundred demonic creatures.

  "In place! Now!" Alain yelled. Villagers aligned behind the fortification's slits and waved their hands, black, impure energy forming at the top of their fingers.

  "Fire!" Energy rays the size of a coin pierced through the demonic creatures' skin. They yelled in agony.

  "Switch!" Alain barked. Another line of adults positioned themselves and charged impure energy. "Fire!". Again, a dozen creatures fell to their massive knees, as big as those of an elephant, purple blood flowing from their body.

  "Focus on the fastest! Switch!" Another line shot. Demonic creatures were still rushing. Alain's brain was racing as he foolishly tried counting them. A switch meant a dozen deaths, and there had been 5 such switches, though their density made them easier targets. If an eighty had fallen… then they numbered two-hundred-fifty?

  "Back away!" Alain shouted, dropping to the bottom of the ladder. "With me!" He dashed towards the curved chalk line, a dozen feet from the fortifications. Elites joined him, shields covering their chest. Adults and teenagers circled them, height aligned, each line staying on grounds a step higher than the precedent.

  They were coming. Alain took deep breaths. Sudden agonizing cries resonated through the fortifications, disturbing his breathing. Dozens of demonic creatures must have fallen to the spiked ditches. They howled in horror agony as their kin trampled them, impaling them down into the ditches' fixed spears.

  The fortification shook as if it would fly around them at any moment. People around trembled. "Stay in formation!" Alain shouted. Demonic creatures pounded the hardwood, smashing it once, twice, and again.

  Violet-blooded wood split toward them. Parts of demonic creatures were seen, frantically wounding themselves on the blocking wood.

  Not yet. Their impure energy was limited. Nearby, villagers panicked, no longer spirited by his yelling. Those on his line - mostly elites - resisted well.

  Someone tightened his shaking hand holding a shield, his eyes numbing at them. "Now!" Alain shouted, hundreds of energy rays piercing through the remaining wood and demonic creatures alike. "Ready the other projectiles!" He reached for stones behind him, eyes fixed ahead. They were coming. The stone cold his hand in that last moment of rest.

  A wave of bloody demonic creatures broke through the scrapped wooden wall, sweeping at them.

  The close-range battle started.

  ***

  Red and violet blood covered the ground and broken fortifications.

  Alain split blood off his mouth and went to a kneeling woman dressed in white.

  "Heal."

  "I’m already healing someone." Emilie, the priest, answered.

  Alain glanced at the injured teenager laying on the ground, trembling in rhythm.

  "I don’t care. Habitual fighter firsts. That’s the rule."

  She looked at him. "I am not abided by your rules - I came here vowing to save lives, and he is in a much more dangerous condition than you."

  He stooped to her height.

  "And how much concentration will you lose healing that boy? He seems dead to me."

  "How can you know? There was no healer here before." Her tone wasn't as confident.

  A hole pierced the boy's abdomen. That was probably a misfire. Impure energy was hard to control.

  "It’s not the moment," he said, exasperated from exhaustion. "Even if you save him, more people will die because you won’t have enough sacred energy to save them."

  "You aren’t even much injured!"

  "I. Fucking. Don’t. Care. Now, either you heal me, or I just kill this boy. If I’m not too much injured, it won’t cause you much concentration and energy."

  She looked at him, glanced sideways in fright then put carefully put aside the boy before pressing her hand on him, eyes closed.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Alain, too, closed his eyes. He felt his body numbing in some areas before pleasure filled them. Ah... that was what being alive was.

  The healing eventually subsided as Emilie looked at him with upset eyes. He forced her hand open and threw three denarii - coins. His life was worth far more, but this was already way beyond a classic healing's earning.

  He glanced at the crowd whispering. He seemed to talk about the fortifications.

  There didn't seem to be members of his house needing healing.

  "Good. Now heal the others."

  Some elites accepted, while others refused or took members of their families to get healing.

  Quite a few villagers glared at them. One did open his mouth, but he was punched in the face by Alain and slept. It didn't feel good, but that was something he had to do. Their expression of fear was a manipulation, he was sure. So that others would fight for them so that they never had to train as much as he did. Morale was with him - he was worthier and privileged his own.

  Yet stress never left him. It was the embodiment of action. It told him to change, no matter how. Trying to cover stress was useless. If he continued to remain unprotected, he might die. It was the wiser wisdom of people preceding him, shrunk to the simplest stage possible, truer than logic.

  Emilie healed fifty or so people, most slightly injured. Had she not, she would have healed less than half that number. Alain remained watching the whole process before horsing to cleppé.

  He dismounted, showed some insignia to the guard, and made his way to the castle on foot. There were too many a crow for a horse. Many local dialects were being spoken as he navigated through the narrow roads.

  There was a distinguished smell of excrement. Alain glanced at a first-floor woman dropping a bucket of shit. That was supposed to be illegal. Someone yelled at him, fist raised in the air. The woman nearly touched him.

  He escaped the crowd, left his horse to a well-equipped guard, and dived into the castle made of a ditch, wood walls, and two stone towers accessible from behind by a removable ladder. Behind it stood a kind of mansion he entered.

  As Alain stood before the door, he found himself cursing his stupidity. From the moment the massacre occurred, he had only thought about the present and not the future. How would he face the governor?

  Alain heaved a breath of courage, trying to calm his exhaustion as he knocked on the door. This was a level he needed to reach.

  As he entered the room, a wave of coldness hit his whole body as he felt countless pieces of information making their way up to his brain. He heard the room to its micro resonation, felt the near-weightless mass of his shirt, and focused so much on the man in front of him he could see his every movement.

  "Alain...Is the demonic creature matter bringing you there?"

  "Yes, sir, that is exact. We counted fifty-seven dead, over thirty heavily injured, and a dozen crippled. Most of the remaining are only lightly injured or fine."

  "How much do you think the revenue will drop?"

  "… I don't know, sir."

  He raised an eyebrow

  ''This is why an administrator should be doing his job properly instead of sending some of his people."

  Alain remained silent.

  ''So" he said like a father reprimanding a bad son. "Fifty-seven… Nearly five to six percent..." he noisily tapped his finger on the desk. They had a kind of assurance - he would lose some resources.

  "That will need some fixing. Tell your administrator to come and make me a detailed report of the situation: I need to discuss the relocation of a few families with him and resolve the rest with a favored implementation rate of families in Nirl after marriage."

  There were always too many people in Cleppé, anyways.

  "Understood, sir."

  "Oh, and, the royal instructors did not fight, I hope?"

  "They did not."

  "Good. Then, you know how to return, I presume, or should I have expected you don't know how to?"

  "Goodbye, sir."

  Alain left with the urge to hit something. He had such a good opportunity but made no use of it. He only thought now about inviting the man to copy his lifestyle and maybe learn something.

  He passed through the guards and saw his face reflecting on the muddy-looking water - they dumped their feces here. His skin looked in the forties, bellow his eyes crawled two crescents of dark circles, his mouth missing teeth, his face showing a depressed expression that had become static from the lack of smile, and his growing baldness taunted him.

  How long could he continue to live?

  He went to his horse, paused, and looked back. He stared aimlessly for a moment. Then he moved forward. In the opposite direction from that of his horse.

  He stood on the road of the companies linked to the demonic creature business. This part of the road belonged to those who fought raid back by heading to the demonic creature's territory, getting riches in the process.

  The demonic's creature production facilities weren't far, and the smell of tattered skin replaced the crap odor. It wasn't better.

  The building facing him had two wooden signs. One was written in the global language of the empire, and translated into the six locales ones, while the other was a picture showing a huge demonic creature flanked and killed by several spears and dark, impure energy rays.

  "I’d like to register," Alain said to the woman at the desk. They helped their husband control the monopoly. Like a merchant’s wife, they knew the arrangements of their husband, legal or not, were not to be paid and were considered more loyal. They often were executives of their husband’s testaments.

  "Do you have some proof of your strength?"

  "I am Jean’s contractor." He showed a metal plate from his clothes. "And work at Nirl in that business."

  "Understood. I, unfortunately, can’t tell you the contract. The first run is always one of test, and if you have heard of our reputation for safety…"

  "I am well aware the first run is at charge. How much?"

  "Oh, that would be the case, but you are Jean’s squire. The first one is free, and then they will evaluate how much you need to pay or be paid. Those conditions then won’t change before the tenth raid, but the more you pay, the more you’ll get protected. Only after the tenth raid will you be able to become a member of our company."

  "Okay, when is the next raid? How can I tell you if I want to participate?"

  "The decision shall be voted by the masters in two days. You may tell whether you participate within three days. If you accept then refuse, you won’t be able to participate before paying a fee of fifteen bigs."

  ***

  He returned to his house, eating with all his family – from his wife, three children, and those depending on his power. He ate silently, drinking water that felt tasteless. They all did, but Eloise.

  "Some mercenaries and people died without having heirs, " his wife said. "Their possession shall be held in an auction. Will you participate?"

  "… I don’t know."

  "Did Louis tell you something about the orphans? Nathan lost both his parents, and no longer has grandparents."

  She continued to talk as he ate distractedly, sometimes remaining silent, sometimes nodding.

  Alain finished eating and left his house, watching the sky. Eloise followed, and Harry, their son, hid near a tree, spying on their conversation.

  "Cloe died… couldn’t you talk to Louis about strengthening the palisades? He doesn’t listen to me." Eloise said.

  "Raids of that magnitude aren’t that frequent." That happened, what? One or two times a decade? Plus the decade-day.

  "But look at the result! How many people died? And, we will need it for the decade-day in 6 years."

  "Fifty-seven died, and Louis is right for that. We can’t waste resources. If they fear for their lives, let them pay for it. But I can’t."

  "Alain, please, I beg you, it's not fair."

  Alain remained silent.

  "You weren’t like this, younger." There were some tears in her voice. He heard the sound of steps leaving on the gravel.

  "Eloise… " Alain said with a sigh, and she turned. "I am already thirty-five. What... do you expect me to do? Running away like your cowardly brother? I have only so many opportunities..."

  "Why do you want to make money till this point?! We're doing just fine. What our children need is a present father, not a hardworking one. The time you will pass with a seven years old is different than from a teenager - take more care of Harry."

  "You see, this is the problem."

  "What?"

  "You think like we should live happily, in joy. But that is just not possible. We live in pain because it makes us evolve. Because there is a lone goal that nobody had ever succeeded in... that is to live. Having family and power is only for that goal. Now, look at my hair. It seemed a malfunction. Why would I fucking care about Harry - a tool to serve me old - when I'm not sure I'd live that long."

  Harry nearly bit his lips. His heart hurt.

  "How can you talk like this about your family?"

  "And how can you not care that much about your body, your everything?!" he roared. "I got paid 3 times for fighting first lane against the demonic creature, half for participating half for being a man, half for each level of strength, and half more for each piece of equipment. Why do you think I take so much risk? Because I need pure energy. Only it can't delay the aging process, and the impure energy's consequences."

  There was silence. He added with difficulty:

  "That is why I engaged in the opposite raids."

  "You did what?!"

  "I cannot wait anymore." There was some madness in his voice. "I cannot care anymore about that. Each second is risky. Each day I woke up fearing I could die. Eloise. All people take risks, but they don’t want to be responsible for it. Not taking additional risks only meant you won't gain everything! It only means you don't decide your own life! Without pure energy, how long can I live?!"

  His voice was to become tearful anytime as he supported his head with his hands.

  "I’m tired of this! Living without meaning… Fearing what I know is the best path! All lives only seek to live, but humans, angels, and demons! They are so corrupted... just behind demonic creatures and their suicidal tendencies. We fooled ourselves because our moral came from people who had no energy and could only wait to die."

  Harry heard him back after a few seconds.

  "Don't look at me like this. I am not mad, I am just… someone who wishes to live, but what did you do? You saw all your siblings but Louis die! You saw two of our children dying! Who will be the third?! Harry?! I only wish to live… I’m not the strange one. Even flies struggled while eaten alive, but humanity gave up."

  He glanced above, at the island in the sky. He remembered as a child hearing Paladins could live a hundred years or more. He had wished for that. He had to get it. No matter what. That path wasn’t wrong – one had to seek to produce enough, to have enough friends and family, and to control his body, and follow happiness. One had to live in society to maximize his life. That could go so well together.

  "Alain, what if you're corrupted by demons?! Alain! Please! I'm talking to you!"

  Harry hurriedly left.