Srsli
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26: Truth
🕑 Added 2025-08-09 14:05:23 +0000 UTCThe next couple of days passed without incident. There were no more sightings of the Shadow Cat, and we didn’t encounter any other incredibly dangerous threats—not that we weren’t attacked at all. On the second day after the Treant battle, a pack of Skywolves struck at dusk, but they were no match for the adventurers, who were especially excited about having Skywolf steaks back on the menu.
Liane never managed to catch any more Blood Owls, though I suspected that might have been intentional—to avoid drawing the Cat back to us. What she did bring back, however, was a spider at least five times the size of the others. Before long, she and the spider were promptly kicked out of camp by Jen, who absolutely refused to allow it to be cooked there. Jen even threatened to smash it to goo if she saw it anywhere near camp again.
I.. may have secretly put it into storage for later. Its name was slightly concerning, though—considering it was the size of my torso, it was still called a Juvenile Phase Spider.
If that was a younger one... how large did they grow? I didn’t want to find out.
We had been travelling harder and longer than usual over the last two days. We hadn’t stopped for lunch even once, instead just snacking on jerky in the wagon and pressing on. Even starting earlier than normal in the morning, and rode later into the evening. Troy claimed he was just trying to make up for lost time after having to turn back, but Milo suspected he was spooked by everything that had happened and just wanted to get this trip over with as soon as possible.
On the third day, I was sitting up front with Milo riding alongside me, playing with some magical ball. I decided to ask a couple of questions that had been on my mind for a while.
“Milo, I had a couple of friends back at the Academy. I was wondering if you knew what to expect and where they’d be. The first is my friend George—he got a soldier class?”
As I said this, I noticed Cee wince slightly. He didn’t say anything, but I was pretty sure I saw it.
Milo didn’t answer right away. “Hmm, I’m no expert, of course, but the soldie…” he started, but Cee gave him a hard look and shook his head, stopping Milo in his tracks.
“Well, that’s a tough one, Trev. I think it’s best we sit down somewhere safe and discuss it later,” Milo said instead.
“Wait, why can’t we talk here? What’s going on?” I asked, growing impatient and glaring at Cee for cutting the explanation short. Why was everyone so cagey about this?
For one of the first times, Cee spoke up. “Kid, it’s not an easy topic. I’m an ex-soldier myself. We’ll talk tonight, okay?”
I was stunned that Cee was talking at all—and confused about why it was such a difficult subject. I figured I’d find out tonight.. maybe.
“Right, so what’s the second one?” Milo said, steering the conversation back.
I was still looking at Cee, unsure how to respond. Part of me wanted to argue, to demand to know right now—was George in danger?
I forced myself back to Milo. “Uh, the second one is my friend.. or, I don’t know? Was a friend? I thought—sorry, it’s confusing. My last interaction left me with so many questions. He got an adventurer’s class, swordsman, and he was with a group but pretended I didn’t exist when I saw him. Anyway, what happens with new adventurers?”
Milo winced a little this time. “Ah, okay, well this one we can discuss. Normally, when we get someone fresh from a military academy like that, they’re assigned to one of the new, up-and-coming parties. What’s supposed to happen is they learn from the party and eventually become a full-fledged adventurer.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately, Trev, that’s rarely what happens. More often than not, those guys are treated like pack mules at best, and at worst—they’re decoys and shields. The guild system sticks them with other up-and-coming parties, but the issue is those parties aren’t experienced themselves, and often they’re driven by egos, trying to prove themselves.”
There was a long pause. I didn’t know what to say.
“In relation to your friend, honestly, there are two possible reasons he ignored you—both of which you probably won’t like,” Milo said. “Either he’s been wrapped up in the ego-driven ‘we’re better than the rest’ mindset, or he’s simply been told he’s not allowed to talk to anyone. Both are not uncommon for new adventurers coming from the academy or orphanages.”
“I don’t understand. They can just stop him from talking?” I asked, thoroughly confused.
“Yes, and no. Nothing is forcing him directly—he could speak if he really wanted to. But the party could make life very unpleasant, even dangerous, if he broke their rules. There are very few protections or avenues to support new adventurers with grievances. Technically, there are rules, but they’re judged by the guild masters. And when it’s a matter of the word of a brand-new recruit versus an up-and-coming powerhouse, rarely do they believe the recruit.”
I felt angry. If there were rules, why wouldn’t they be enforced?
“That’s stupid. Can’t you just leave the party? Ask for another one? Even change cities?” I asked, clearly upset.
“No, Trev. If they try to leave the party, that’s counted as abandonment. They’ll lose their adventurer status and won’t be eligible again. To leave the party, the party leader has to approve it,” Milo explained.
I was furious. It sounded like a broken system, an absolute injustice.
“Why can’t groups like yours take them instead?” I asked Milo, noticing a slight wince at the question.
“Well, to be honest, Trev, we had our fair share of new recruits back in the day—several years ago when we were around level 20 or 25,” Milo said, his voice heavy with regret. “But we weren’t any better than what I told you. We were young, and I’d like to say we treated new recruits well, but looking back… we didn’t prepare them nearly enough. We treated them like pack mules. I’m ashamed to admit it, but it’s the truth.”
“Now, though, we’re too high level to be assigned new adventurers. It’s incredibly dangerous for a fresh level 1 to be teamed up with level 40-plus veterans. You’ve seen what we face. If we ran into that cat and it was hostile, we’d be lucky to get out alive — and still might not. But a sub-level 10 adventurer? They’d be a sapling standing in front of a mountain. They’d die in a heartbeat.”
Milo looked me in the eye, sadness weighing down his expression. “Look, Trev, I’ll be honest. Most adventurers from academies or orphanages are lucky to survive their first year.”
Cee turned sharply, giving Milo a hard look, but Milo pressed on anyway.
“No, Cee, he should know at least this much. They teach you to fight and not to back down. But the most important lesson for an adventurer is knowing when to run — when to avoid the fight and live to fight another day. Remember that.”
The conversation ended there. Those words—and even Cee’s reaction to what Milo was about to say—hung heavy in the air. Was Jordan telling the truth? Were we really just trained to die pointlessly?
The afternoon passed without much happening. For the first time, I saw a caravan of three wagons heading the opposite way. They were guarded by six men, and after a brief exchange between Hari and someone on their side, both groups continued on their paths.
As evening slipped in, I was preparing some Skywolf steaks for the group, seasoning them simply with Fire Salt. The meal was straightforward—just steaks and some vegetables—but satisfying. I sat down to eat when Cee took a seat beside me. For a while, no words were spoken, but the tension between us was palpable.
The silence dragged on, thick and heavy, until finally Cee broke it.
“Alright, Trev. I said I’d explain some of it, and I will. But there are things I can’t say. When you find out later.. well, I’m sorry.” His voice was low, serious.
“Soldiers from the academy don’t have a pleasant time,” he continued, his tone heavy with pain, as if speaking the truth cost him something. “Most don’t see their sixteenth winter.”
I nearly jumped to my feet, disbelief cracking my voice. “What?!”
“Keep it down and listen,” Cee growled softly, warning me. “The war to the south is brutal. Thousands die every year. New soldiers aren’t ready for it—but the war doesn’t wait for them to grow up.”
“But what about my friend? Will he die?” I asked, though I knew Cee probably couldn’t give me a straight answer. Still, I worried about George.
“He’s got the odds stacked against him,” Cee said quietly. “His only saving grace is the couple of months’ travel from Dunhearth to Southport. If he’s smart, he’ll do a lot of growing up and training during that time. But beyond that... I couldn’t say. Sorry.”
Silence fell again between us.
“How did you survive? You said you were a soldier, right?” I pressed, hoping for some reassurance.
“That’s not something I’m willing to talk about,” Cee said, his voice heavy. “I’m sorry about your friend. I hope they make it.”
And with that, he got up and walked outside.
I sat there stunned, anxiety twisting in my gut. What could I do? Why hadn’t I known any of this before? My thoughts kept circling back to Jordan’s words: we’re trained to die. But why? Surely, properly trained troops could do better against the demon forces.
That night, sleep eluded me. My mind raced with helplessness and fear. What horrors awaited them out there? Even if they survived, would they still be the same people? I couldn’t imagine the George I knew lasting long with that kind of weight on his shoulders. How could anyone keep their joy in the face of such disaster?
It had been a hard day. Part of me wished I hadn’t asked. But I knew deep down it was important that I did.
Another two days passed before we saw the forest begin to thin. There had been no more attacks, and much to everyone’s relief, no sign of the Shadow Cat. I was told we’d be reaching a new village today, which struck me as a bit crazy given its proximity to the forest. But Milo explained it was an important logging town supplying most of the lumber to Boltron—and also a hub for adventurers heading to the forest’s outskirts for various tasks and training.
Over the last four days of travel, I’d gained quite a few levels as well.
Notifications:
…
You have reached Level 14 in Arcane Chef
You have +2 unspent stat points
I was also 48/50 on my perfect cuts. I wasn’t entirely sure what triggered them; I tried to be as precise as possible or minimise wastage when butchering the wolves, but the system’s judgement seemed inconsistent.
On top of that, I was very close to levelling up in Butchery and Infuse Flavour. I placed those two points into Endurance, bringing it up to 19 total.
As the sun crested the horizon, we crested a hill, and the village sprawled out before us.
“Wow,” was all I could manage. It wasn’t what I expected from a village—it felt more like the size of Dunhearth, with imposing gates towering ahead.
“That’s huge!” I couldn’t help but say aloud.
Milo chuckled softly. “The only difference between this place and Dunhearth is the lack of a temple. To be officially recognised as a town, it would need an official temple. But thanks to the logging trade and all the adventurers, this has grown into a very large settlement.”
“And the gates... do they really need to be this large? Who would attack a logging town?” I asked in awe, noticing how the gates seemed to grow even bigger as we drew closer.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Milo replied. “They’re often necessary to protect the village. Being this close to the forest means it only takes one careless logger to wander into a monster’s territory—and that monster will follow them back here or lash out at the nearest group of humans.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence. I stayed in awe, watching the village unfold as we descended the hill toward those massive gates.
