Orrin paused for a heartbeat as he let the chilling power of [Mind Bastion] speed up his thoughts. He was in danger now but how much was up to what he did next. The man’s question wasn’t one of challenge but genuine curiosity. All of the elven scouts and the scouts of Dey failed to get close to the camp in their probing attacks, with some complaining the demons had an unnatural ability to detect them before they could gather useful information. Silas’s theory was the Horde had unique markers of some sort that identified friendlies from enemies. How Valerie had made it so close was anyone’s guess.

  The slightly bored look that was directed in his direction right now squashed that idea. They were looking right at him but not screaming out in alarm.

  Orrin’s heart dropped at the sudden realization. I’m still running [Camouflage]. How can he see me? Oh. Shit.

  The spell, along with most of his protection wards, were no longer active. His stats were still boosted and [Mind Bastion] seemed to be working as well but his protection and stealth spells were deactivated. When I passed through the barrier they made? I didn’t know that was a possibility.

  “Buddy?” the man cocked his head as he rested an arm against the big metal bowl the two of them were moving. “If you’re busy doing something else, it’s not a big deal. Which camp do you belong to? That last push to get here quicker created a lot of chaos. You’re in Support Squad C right now.”

  “I’m Casimir,” Orrin lied, using the name he’d gone by for a few weeks recently. “I’m… delivering messages. Where’s command?”

  Orrin was proud of himself. The off-the-cuff story would allow him to roam the camp as long as nobody looked too closely. The lie of being Casimir rolled off his tongue after all his practice.

  The second man sighed and slapped the talkative one. “Stop trying to get other people to do your job, Joss. If he’s Messenger Corps and you delay something important, the brass will double your taxes.”

  The man, Joss, rolled his eyes and continued to lazily lean against the cauldron. “Shut up, Deacon. Nice to meet you, Casimir. If you need Supp C’s command, that would be Janelle over that way. Dark green tent. You can’t miss her. Why anyone would waste a messenger on us though…”

  Orrin nodded his thanks and left Joss and Deacon to continue their task alone before he was asked to help again. He walked in the direction offered but ducked behind a row of full wagons as soon as he lost line of sight.

  “Come on,” Orrin muttered, trying to reactivate [Camouflage]. The spell triggered. It ate his mana. Then it disappeared. It was similar to the feeling of using [Teleport] when a teleport ward was on. He could use the spell but nothing worked.

  Don’t panic. You can’t stay invisible but you knew that was a possibility going in. The Demon Lord is around here. This isn’t a problem. Keep going.

  A smaller part of his brain considered what would happen if all his spells didn’t work in the camp. Without [Teleport], his plan would be to run, knocking people out as he got away. If [Gust] or his decrease stat spells were taken away as options as well…

  Orrin used a single mana point to push the wind at some tent support lines in the distance. The long leather straps spiked to the ground rippled in the air for a moment before going still.

  At least, I have that. My stats are still up so I’ll hope I can still debuff others. It’s not like there’s a good option to test that out.

  Orrin knew he could debuff himself and then bring his stats back up but he wasn’t going to mess with his own points right now. He could take someone out but without knowing who his random target was, he chanced letting the entire camp know that something was wrong.

  He rocked on his ankles and waited another minute, routing out his choices. They’d hoped he would find the Demon Lord here but enough time must have passed that he moved. With a sigh, Orrin crawled out from between the wagons and continued walking toward Janelle’s green tent. Leadership would mean information. He smiled and walked with purpose, trying to act like he belonged. If he put up the persona that he was part of the camp, maybe he could get in deeper.

  The support camp appeared to be mostly grunts. They ran around carrying heavy boxes and supplies or unloaded the same from different wagons. Most worked in groups of two or three. The deeper he walked toward command, the more it felt like a parking lot than a camp. Without warning, he was forced to turn left at a barricade and was in a clearing with twenty wagons in a circle. Three tents sat in the middle, the tallest the dark green he was looking for. A long line of people, including a few demons, stood in front of him.

  A short and stout woman with short bright red hair, pale white skin, and a long-forked tail waiving behind her, sat behind a desk. She barked orders to each person as they approached. The members of Support Camp C would snap to attention and run off to fulfill whatever task they’d received.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Orrin couldn’t help but be impressed with the order and precision. He stood in line behind a tall human man with blonde hair down to his ankles. He studied everything around him.

  Using [Identify] would be the quickest way to find the Demon Lord but if he used it on the wrong person, they might have a skill that let them know they were being investigated. He was hesitant to use the skill this early but curiosity got the better of him. He used [Identify] on the man in front of him.

  He froze and shook his head. That can’t be right.

  He tried again. It didn’t change.

  Orrin moved slack-jawed as the line continued to crawl forward. He could hear the orders better now. The orc didn’t complain as she was told to bring extra shovels to Waste Administration. He blinked and used [Identify] on her as well. Maybe it was an anomaly or something.

  Nope. What is going on? Orrin used [Identify] three more times. The lowest level he found was in the sixties. The man in front of him was at level eighty-five.

  If this is their third-string support squad, what level is the Demon Lord at? Orrin worried that the entire camp was at a higher level than most of the Dragoon squad.

  With that worrying thought, he risked using [Identify] on the demon Janelle.

  Even with [Mind Bastion] running, Orrin’s brain short-circuited. The cap for leveling was one hundred. That was what he’d been told. That was common knowledge.

  Knowledge that was now proven wrong.

  Orrin had hoped to walk up and ask Janelle for directions but at seeing her level, fear slipped in, bypassing [Mind Bastion]. She was such a higher level than him that his version of [Identify] couldn’t grasp her stats, but the pit in his stomach told him her stats would be higher than he’d expected as well.

  He was getting closer to the front and needed to get away. Orrin slapped his forehead like he’d forgotten something and ran off, back to his secluded spot between wagons. Nobody paid him any attention.

  Think. Calm down. This changes nothing. I can still reduce their stats… I hope.

  He needed to know for sure that he could use [Decrease Strength] or [Decrease Dexterity]. With the level disparity of that demon, he had to assume the Demon Lord would be at a higher level as well. That also meant that his constitution was going to be stronger than normal.

  Orrin didn’t use strength in his fighting and decided to take the chance. He selected level one [Decrease Strength] and cast it on himself. A sigh of relief escaped before he could help it. It worked.

  Now for the real test, Orrin selected the opposite spell and buffed himself. The single missing point reappeared on his status screen. So my buffs and debuffs still work. I can do this.

  Orrin hoped he was right as he squeezed out the back of the clump of wagons and made his way back to Janelle. He wasn’t going to talk to her but instead just listen. If she gave a directive to one of her underlings that sounded important, Orrin could follow. It was always a long shot that the Demon Lord would stand around in one place. If he went where the action was, he might get lucky.

  Not that lucky! Orrin thought as he pushed his way back between the two open truck bed wagons. Several red-skinned demons were walking down the path he’d almost escaped to. Several had bowls of food and were eating as they strolled. Orrin counted twenty demons. The majority had red skin and horns but three or four could pass as human if not for a tail or horns randomly dispersed.

  “—telling you it’s true. I heard from Grappor that these walls weren’t here a few weeks ago. The damn scum pushed out beyond the border and cut down trees to build it too. It might be the biggest excursion of them ever recorded,” a demon with horns that curled down like a ram said, speaking to another demon. The second demon was taller than the others, with a robe that had runes and script along the sleeves, hem, and neckline. His horns were small and pointed back along his bald head.

  “If they have united together enough to build in the Pass, perhaps we should push for a full extermination. The topic has been broached in the past but this is not one or two of them exploring out into the world. This may give them ideas of expansion,” the tall demon answered. They were moving quickly down the road and Orrin stood still as they passed.

  “The Accords say that if—” the ram-horned demon started.

  “Damn the Accords,” one of the smaller demons cut in. He’d finished slurping up noodles from his bowl and tossed it into the back of the wagon nearby. It clattered against the wood side next to Orrin’s head. “If the Accursed don’t follow the rules, then we have no reason to keep to it. You know, it’s like my da always said. If someone hits you, don’t hesitate to put them down. They broke the peace. If they’d stayed on their side, we could keep ignoring them. Look how close they are. The bastards could make it to Tasmus in a few hours. I’ll vote for extermination.”

  Orrin didn’t breathe.

  “We have a meeting at noon to discuss the new challenges. Find any of the Pure that you can find. He wants everyone there,” the ram demon ordered. “Do not bring up extermination at first. We must see if the votes are on our side before we make any moves.”

  “Votes won’t matter if Mr. High-and-Mighty decides against it,” the bowl-thrower complained. “Don’t call them Pure around him either. He hates that term.”

  A few chuckles escaped from the red-skinned demons while the ones with white and darker skin tones dragged their feet. One of them almost spoke but another grabbed her arm and shook his head.

  Internal strife between the different ones, Orrin noted. That could come in handy.

  “It will not matter what he decides if the new [Hero] comes out to fight,” the ram demon laughed. “He will only be in charge as long as that child is alive. If we can get him to attempt a parley with this [Hero], we could end both threats at once.”

  “We can’t attack the Dem—”

  “Shut your mouth before I do it for you,” the demon’s robes swirled as he descended on the smaller demon. “None of us would or could hurt the Demon Lord. That is the law. However, we can target enemies with any spells or weapons we have. Accidents can happen.”

  The group silently moved on as they digested the demon’s words, leaving Orrin shaking in fear, rage, and confusion.

  What was that all about?

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