Those who had seen their comrades fall into the traps quickly learned from their mistakes and began moving more carefully, slowly making their way through the obstacles.
But soon even that stopped helping.
The moment they emerged from the forest into the open, a rain of arrows greeted them from the village fortifications.
Seeing what was happening, the leader ordered part of his forces to circle around the village and attempt to break in from the rear.
They were taking losses, while their enemy was merely growing tired from constant shooting.
Maintaining a mental link with his men through their shared skill, he quickly received updates about the progress of the operation. And the information he was getting did not please him at all.
So he decided they would need reinforcements and sent a message through the mental link to the other Reapers stationed in a nearby camp.
But even the ones who arrived later did not last long.
The first group was discovered just as they were about to begin a series of mass arsons. Soon after, they were dealt with just as quickly as the others.
But what worried him the most was something else.
That same little brat who had stepped forward earlier had managed to defeat his men using “Perception Manipulation.” Worse than that — he had even driven experienced warriors into hysteria.
It made no sense in his mind.
His men, who had never known fear, were now trembling before someone smaller than them.
Even so, he was still confident in victory — even if it came at the cost of heavy losses. After all, another group of his men was approaching the village, and no one knew about them.
But all of his expectations were shattered in an instant by what he saw next.
The night sky suddenly lit up with a bright glow, and for a moment the streets shone as if it were daytime.
He looked up — and froze in horror.
A familiar figure hovered in the air, large snow-white wings spread behind its back.
?This can’t be… that’s…?
An angel-like being floated high above the ground, calmly suspended in the night sky.
Something familiar was gathering in its palm.
That same dark sphere of fire he had seen before.
But now the power contained within it felt far more terrifying.
The Reaper leader stared, unable to tear his gaze away from the mesmerizing and horrifying sight.
A moment later, the figure merely leaned forward slightly and swung its arm.
With a loud whistle, the attack shot forward, flying straight toward where his last hope for victory stood.
The connection with his remaining men was severed almost instantly.
And in that moment, he finally realized his mistake.
They should never have come here.
And they certainly should not have provoked something they could not possibly understand.
Tearing his eyes away with effort, he forced himself back to his senses.
Fear still gripped his chest, but he quickly suppressed it and sprinted into the depths of the forest.
He needed to report what had happened tonight to his superiors as soon as possible.
And warn the others.
About what they had encountered.
.
.
.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
In the kingdom of Firsttail, everything was proceeding as usual.
Formally, the state was considered an independent kingdom. In reality, however, it had long since become a military province of the Southeastern Empire of Vi Grand. The king sat on the throne only because the emperor himself had once placed him there, and real power had long since passed into the hands of the military elite and the imperial governor.
All major decisions passed through him.
Firsttail served the Empire as a buffer state on the border with Elysium. Its task was to weaken its neighbor by gradually destabilizing the border regions.
For that purpose, so-called Reapers were used — squads that officially acted of their own will. They attacked villages, carried out massacres and arsons, seized new territory, and spread fear among the population.
Officially, the kingdom had nothing to do with it.
That was why Elysium had still not declared war. There was no direct proof of Firsttail’s involvement, and attacking it would automatically mean entering a war with the Empire itself. Moreover, Elysium itself was divided: part of the nobility demanded a harsh response, while the merchant houses insisted on diplomacy, fearing enormous losses from a potential war.
While the states balanced on the edge of open conflict, a quiet war continued along the borderlands.
At that very moment, the Reaper General sat in his office, sorting through reports about the progress of various operations.
Most groups had already sent their reports.
But one report was still missing.
And it was starting to irritate him.
One of his most experienced and trusted commanders had not made contact for several days.
He was beginning to suspect betrayal when suddenly someone knocked on the door.
— Come in.
The door opened, and a battered, exhausted Torsul stepped inside.
— Sir Sairat, permission to enter. I have extremely important information for you.
The general gestured toward an empty chair, allowing him to sit.
Limping slightly, Torsul slowly walked to the chair and heavily lowered himself onto it.
The general examined him carefully. Now he was curious what had happened. People usually returned in this condition only after clashing with knights.
But Torsul looked even worse than that.
— What happened to you? And why have you been out of contact for so long?
— Forgive me for that, but… — he paused, gathering his thoughts. — I’ve been traveling the entire time and couldn’t contact you. I hurried here to report everything in person.
The general frowned slightly.
— I see… — he said slowly. — So what exactly happened?
Torsul quickly told his general everything that had occurred. Their attack on the village had failed: their men had run into traps in the forest, then come under fire from the village fortifications, and the sabotage groups sent to start fires had been eliminated almost immediately.
But the main cause of their defeat, according to him, was a strange young guy who had appeared in the village. He dealt with the Reapers easily and even drove experienced warriors into panic. And when the final reinforcement arrived, an angel-like figure appeared in the sky and destroyed the remaining forces with a single attack. After that, Torsul realized the battle was lost and hurried back to report it personally.
The story impressed the general, and for a moment he considered Torsul’s words.
However, another explanation seemed far more likely to him.
They had simply lost to knights, and Torsul had invented some insane story to justify such a defeat. Perhaps he had even fled while his men were dying.
— Hmm… an angel named Rein, you say…
— Yes. At first we thought he was some kind of fool. He seemed far too bold… but now I understand why.
The general remained silent for a few seconds, then nodded.
— Very well. You may go and rest. I will contact the others and warn them.
— Thank you.
Torsul rose from the chair and headed for the exit.
When the door opened and he stepped outside, the general subtly waved a hand toward the guards standing nearby.
They immediately understood the gesture.
Without hesitation, they grabbed Torsul and restrained him.
— Hey! What are you doing?!
— Throw him into the dungeon, — the general ordered coldly. — Let him sit there and clear his head of these foolish thoughts.
— What?! Wait! I wasn’t lying! It’s all true! Listen to me!
But neither the general nor the guards paid him any attention.
After Torsul was taken away and the door slammed shut behind him, silence returned to the office.
The general sat quietly for a while, tapping his fingers on the table.
The story about an angel sounded like complete nonsense…
Yet something in Torsul’s words still bothered him.
With a sigh, he activated the mental link and contacted one of the female generals from another Reaper corps.
The reply came almost instantly.
The general paused for a moment, then added:
There was a short pause on the other end.
The general smirked slightly.
.
.
.
Five minutes later, the office door opened and Alisa walked in.
She looked about twenty — twenty-five at most.
A short red-haired girl with a pleasant appearance, dressed quite strangely for this world. She wore a light white summer blouse, short shorts, and simple sandals — clothes more suited for a warm beach day than a military headquarters.
But the reason was simple.
Alisa was an otherworlder who had come here from another world.
And in her hands was a strange device that had arrived here with her.
— What’s the emergency? And why do you need a phone?
— Sit first. Then you’ll find out.
Alisa snorted, but sat down anyway.
— So… — Sairat began, thinking for a moment about where to start. — Do you remember Torsul?
— You mean that idiot who tries to flirt with girls outside the tavern every evening?
Sairat chuckled quietly at how she remembered him, but nodded.
— Yes, that one.
— Then yeah, I remember.
Alisa rested her cheek on one hand while lazily spinning the phone in the other, looking at Sairat with mild boredom. She still didn’t understand what Torsul had to do with this meeting… or why she had needed to bring her phone.
— Get to the point.
For speaking to him like that, Sairat would have executed anyone else.
But the rules didn’t apply to Alisa.
He valued her too much.
They had met seven years ago. He had noticed a girl in strange clothes trying to speak to people on the street, looking confused. Most people simply brushed her off and walked away.
Sairat had approached to help.
That was how their friendship began.
— Alright, — he smiled slightly. — Let’s get to the point.
And he began telling the story.
When he finished, he looked at Alisa, waiting for her reaction.
— And you actually believe that idiot?
— Of course I do. Don’t forget — I have the ability to distinguish truth from lies.
Alisa paused for a moment.
She had completely forgotten about that.
— Then why did you throw him into a dungeon?
Sairat shrugged.
— You see, not everyone knows about my ability. If I start believing his “crazy stories” openly, I’ll be the next one thrown into a cell.
It was a reasonable argument. Revealing such an ability would be foolish.
Especially that one.
— I see. In that case, why did you need the phone?
— Haven’t you guessed yet?
— I have a guess… but I’d rather hear you confirm it.
Sairat briefly explained that he planned to contact the organization known as the “Volunteers” in Elysium and ask them to send a spy to the very village where the so-called “angel” had appeared.
They needed information.
The phone was necessary to keep the conversation completely confidential.
If they used mental communication, there was a risk it could be intercepted. And if that happened, it would reveal that the Volunteers were cooperating with Firsttail.
That could not be allowed.
So for such conversations they used phones and ordinary cellular communication. In this world, devices like that were almost nonexistent — perhaps ten people possessed them.
Maybe fewer.
— Fine, I’ll contact them. But not here. Your office barely gets a signal.
— That’s fine. I trust you. You may go.
Alisa nodded and left the room.
Sairat remained seated at the desk, fingers interlocked in front of his face as he watched the door slowly close.
When it finally shut, silence returned to the office.
?Well then…? — He thought. — ?Let’s see what kind of angel you really are, Rein.?