It was a perfect night for a midnight raid. It was a bit cold and windy, making the trees creak and groan, covering any sounds we might make before the attack. The sky was black, the stars and moon covered by clouds. Because it was cold, the elves kept their many campfires going through the night. Making them appear as perfect targeting silhouettes.

I was with 7th Platoon across the road from the elven camp, covering the south. 2nd and 5th Platoon were west of the camp, while 3rd was to the north, and 4th was to the east. 1st Platoon was mounted and stationed on the road. One squad to the west and one to the east. Their job was to catch any runners.

We had sent a stone mage to each of the four cardinal points, to make some quick and dirty fortifications. We were, after all, attacking a superior number of soldiers. The only things we had going for us were surprise and position.

I had three loaded rifles next to me. Hopefully, 5th and 7th Platoon would be able to take out the harpies before they got too far up. Otherwise, I would be the only capable of seeing them against the dark backdrop of the sky.

I watched the sixteen watchstanders they had. They were only patrolling once every ten minutes or so. Four elves would walk the perimeter of the camp, before returning to the campfire closest to the road, where all of them were sitting most of the time.

“Please inform Ethan that they can start now,” I told Shenerah. She nodded and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Unlike Yathanae, Ilmadia, and Siphanien, she had no compunction against killing other elves.

As she had explained it, lampads were trained in warfare from the time they could walk. Even more so for their priests. They learned a wide variety of martial arts and weapons. Furthermore, they believed that everyone they killed was a good thing, since the souls of those they killed were used to strengthen the weave, which kept the Destroyer imprisoned.

She was also extremely fascinated by our firearms. I had let her practice a few shots and she seemed to be a natural shot. Way better than me, unless I used my power. Even then, she was not that much worse than me.

With my cat eyes, I saw the first flight of arrows from the west. When it reached the peak, another flight of arrows joined it, also from the west. The elven guards stood up and looked around a bit confused. Then came the distinctive twangs of crossbows being released. The bolts from the crossbows were fired at the guards, while the flights of arrows started raining down on the sleeping elves.

As soon as the first flight of arrows hit, a flight of arrows rose from the north and one from the east. I saw half the guards go down, many of them hit by several bolts. How many of the sleepers that were killed, I could not see.

Screams of pain were followed by shouts of alarm. The camp became a hive of activity. Elves sprang to their feet, looking around for enemies, only to be struck down by arrows. Harpies started to take to the air, only to be shot by 7th Platoon before they could get more than a metre or two above ground.

We had staggered the fire. Meaning that two of us fired in turn on the harpies as they rose up. The first harpy to rise was targeted by the two troopers at the ends of our line. The next by the second to last on each end, and so on. I would be picking up targets that they did not hit.

There were a few of them, but most of them were picked off by the bolts from the crossbow, which tore through the air as well. So I only had to take down a handful of the forty harpies. After each shot, I handed off my rifle to Mina or Ainsley who were reloading my rifles for me.

In the span of a minute, a lot of elves had died, but there were still a lot still alive. They had sought refuge behind and underneath the carts. Even near the oxen, which my men had orders to try and spare.

Soon a group of elves broke towards the north but was quickly pelted with arrows from west, north, and east, breaking their advance and killing most of them. No longer pinned down by the constant flights of arrows, the majority of surviving elves used that moment to rush south towards us.

Over a dozen of them fell to our musket fire, and I could already hear the thundering of hooves from the approaching 1st Platoon. However, 7th Platoon was only equipped with sabres and daggers for melee combat. Firing the rifle that was loaded, I felled one of the approaching elves, before I jumped over the fortification.

Unfazed by the scores of elves rushing me, I casually drew my sabre with my right hand, and one of the dragons with my left. With only five metres separating me from the elves, I aimed low with the dragon and fired it.

The multiple balls loaded in the dragon tore through the legs of three elves, sending them tumbling to the ground, hindering the elves behind them. I had chosen to shoot low instead of at the body because many of the elves were wearing leather armour and helmets.

I holstered the dragon and drew my shortsword, just as the first elf came within melee distance. High parry, low stab, spin, slash. Two elves down. Fighting in melee had become easy and exhilarating. My many years of martial arts training lend its experience to picking up fighting with weapons easy.

With a stomp, I sent a ripple through the earth. A small wave of stone rushed out in a circle around me, unbalancing or directly tripping the elves. Swords flashing, taking the lives of another three elves.

Suddenly something grabbed my left ankle and yanked me off my foot. Instead of fighting the momentum, I pushed off with my right foot, spinning in the air. A foolish move normally, because it left you wide open. However, at the same time, I released a circle of fire at chest height. A couple of elves scored a lucky hit, lightly wounding me, but with healing magic, I was already closing the wounds.

I landed in a crouch, using the momentum of the spin to continue to spin around, with my swords stretched out. However, the elves used that time to close in around me. Spear stabbing out at me.

With a frown I took in the situation, I knew I had to get out of the encirclement or it would be bad. Behind me, I could hear the continuous fire of the muskets, and through the bodies of the elves, I could see 1st Platoon skewering elves with their spear from horseback.

With a mighty burst of stone magic, which used up forty percent of my total mana, I created a column of stone that shot out of the ground with enough force to launch me into the air, and above the elves.

Calculating where I would land, I created a burst of flames for a short second, but it was enough to send the elves scrambling away, lest they wanted to be scorched to death. The spot clear, I landed without incident and immediately sprang forward, attacking the elves towards the back of their group.

Lunge forward, an elf dead, receive a deep slash on the left shoulder, start healing it, parry a thrust towards heart, riposte with a thrust to the sternum of the shortsword. Carry the body two steps forward, spin around, use the body as a meatshield. Successfully broken free of encirclement. Turn around.

It had all become pure reactions for me, no thinking, just doing things instinctually. It was an awesome feeling. I lightly stabbed the sabre into the ground and pulled the other dragon, aiming at head height this time. The dragon roared and heads suddenly sported extra holes, dropping several elves at the same time.

A push sent the body off my shortsword and pushed the two elves approaching me back. Before I could even grab the hilt of my sabre, a horse and rider rode in front of me, impaling one of the elves on the spear.

When the horse and rider cleared my field of vision, I was surprised to see a spear whistling towards my face. I managed to lean to the right, evading the spear. However, it was only after I had dodged that I saw it was the commander of the elves who had stabbed the spear at me. Unable to react in time, I felt the spear hook my neck, and I was sent sprawling on my face.

As I hit the ground I released most of my remaining mana into the ground. A ripple just as before went out from underneath me, tripping and unbalancing the elves around me. At the same time, a small stone protrusion rose at my feet and started travelling backwards quickly. Hooking the protrusion with the top of my feet I was dragged away, narrowly missing the badly aimed stabs that had been aimed my way.

“Stay down, Milord!” I heard someone shout. I did as was suggested and heard the twangs of a bunch of crossbows being released at the same time. It was followed by the whizz of the bolts passing through the air above me, which was followed by meaty thunks and screams of pain as the bolts hit the elves.

Pushing off the ground, I was quickly back on my feet, drawing a hatchet to go along with my shortsword. However, it would seem that the arrival of the 1st, 2nd and 5th Platoon had broken the remaining elves’ will to fight and they were surrendering. The fact that their commander had been hit by no less than five bolts in the chest might have something to do with it as well.

“Are you alright, Milord?” a trooper asked.

“Sure,” I said and took a look at him. It was Leoval from 5th Platoon, also known as subject number 3. “Thanks for the save. It got a bit hairy there.”

“You’re welcome, Milord,” he said and went to join the other troopers who were in progress of disarming and securing the prisoners.

“Justine, Shenerah,” I shouted. “Find out if there's a priest among them. If that person is alive or not.”

I got something that could sound like an acknowledgement, so I turned my attention to the camp behind me. I saw 3rd and 4th Platoon guarding a smaller number of elves, and were in the progress of ensuring that the dead were really dead.

“That went fairly well, Milord,” Hrothgar said as he came up to me.

“Casualties?” I asked.

“Some are heavily wounded, but they are stabilized,” he replied. “We lost eleven troopers. Including Alrik.”

I frowned at that. “Which platoon sustained most casualties?”

“First Platoon, Milord. They’ve not had enough time to learn to fight on horseback, nor do we have the right weaponry,” he answered with a glum expression. “My apologies, I thought they were ready. I should not have suggested we use cavalry in this battle.”

I shook my head. “Not entirely your fault, I bear a responsibility as well. I was the one who accepted your suggestion without asking any question. Ultimately it was my decision. We’ll learn from it, adapt, and move on.”

“Yes, Milord.” With the reports done, he made his way back to the spot where Nathalie and Astrid were healing the wounded.

Shenerah came up to me. Almost a spring in her step. “The two priests were killed in the fighting. One of the harpies that were shot down, and a dryad who was hit by one of the initial flights of arrows.”

“Good. Could you help Justine find out if there are any surviving mancers?”

“Sure,” she replied. She turned around and took a step away, but then hesitated and turned back. “The power of the muskets are incredible. It scares me. It requires so little training compared to the bow, spear, or sword. Yet it’s capable of so much destruction.”

“I know,” I said with a sad shake of my head. “My world was changed with the advent of firearms. We’ve firearms much more powerful than the musket. In my world, any coward who can get his hand on a firearm, suddenly becomes a tyrant.”

“You don’t really like firearms?” she asked.

“Before I came to this world, I had only killed one person before. I had hurt some, sure. Made people scared for their lives and loved ones, but only ever took one life,” I said. “I don’t mind the killing. Somehow, I find it exhilarating fighting with magic and melee weapons. And while the firearms are effective, and I’ll use them, it feels impersonal—inconsequential when I kill with a gun. It somehow feels hollow. I don’t know why.”

“You’ve got the soul of a lampad,” she said with a laugh. “We long for battle, we revel in it. We train long and hard for years to master ourselves and the weapons we use. Yet, all that is for nothing when faced with firearms. Sure, it requires a bit of training to become really good, but nothing like that of the sword for example.”

“I guess,” I said. “Now go check if there are any mancers. They get to choose between servitude or a quick death.”

“I understand,” she said and walked away. I turned my attention towards the camp again and made my way over. Along the way I had motioned for Ainsley, my metal mage, to follow along. Since most of the cargo should be iron bars she could verify it for me.

We checked the filled wagons, nineteen of them to be exact. Eighteen of them were filled with the same amount of iron bars, while the last one carried only half that amount of bars. They were different from the iron bars as well. They had the same form, but the colour was more whitish.

“This is titanium!” Ainsley squealed excitedly, after touching one of the bars for a second. “I’ve only ever seen a small piece the size of a thumbnail, but I would recognize it anywhere.”

“Titanium is pretty damn strong, isn’t it?” I asked. I knew that titanium was a strong metal, and fairly lightweight. However, the exact properties I was not sure of.

“Yes, it’s half again as hard as iron,” she replied. “And it weighs just a bit over half that of iron. It’s extremely precious. Some of the knights that still use armour, use some made from titanium. Though they need to be made from more material than steel, it’ll still be lighter, and harder to deform. It’s a form of prestige.”

“What about weapons?” I asked.

“Maybe some throwing knives or other weapons that don’t need a lot of weight,” she replied with a frown. “Much of the power of a weapon comes from the density. By lowering the density you make a slightly less powerful weapon. It’ll weigh less, but if you want the same power, you need to make them bulkier, to the point they become unhandy.”

“I see,” I mumbled. “What would you use them for?”

“Jewellery, tools, vaults,” came the immediate answer.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think we can take it with us,” I said. “We’ll have to sell it to the dwarves.”

She looked forlornly at the bars, before nodding. “Yes, it would be a problem dragging that much metal around behind enemy lines.”

“Well, you can always grab a few bars. I think we got an extra horse you can load up with some,” I said.

Her face transformed with her beautiful smile. “Thank you, Milord.”

I gave her a small smile. “You’re welcome. I’m heading into the tent to check out the chests I saw in there.”

She nodded and headed back towards where we kept the packhorses. I set my course towards the commander’s tent. When I got there, I found Ethan, Linus, and Yathanae waiting. Ethan had an almost sickly worshipful smile. “Congratulations on your victory, Milord.”

“Thanks, your training over the last month has been helpful. Being able to have four connections at the same time, saved my life today,” I replied. Just a bit creeped out. The change in him over the past month was scary. He had gone from hating me to worshipping me. Nevertheless, he had been extremely useful and helpful, so I could live with a bit of creepiness. His exercises for increasing the number of connections I could have to other people’s mana and magic were priceless.

Yathanae said in elvish, “If he was able to have your children, he would.”

“Let’s not go there,” I replied, suppressing the grimace that was threatening to show itself. I entered the tent first. There was a small cot immediately to the right, but the rest of the tent was taken up by chests stacked upon each other. A quick count revealed twenty-four of them.

Each chest was around a metre long, half a metre wide, and half a metre tall. The lids were just a flat board, with iron bands and large rivets on it, and there was a big iron lock on each keeping the lock sealed. On top of one of the stacks, there was a keyring with a lot of keys on it, as well as a cylindric case for a scroll or a map.

Yathanae grabbed the keyring and looked over the keys for a moment. “These keys are fake, there’ll be only one key. The commander probably has it.”

“Oh?” was my clever response.

“Yeah, the lock is a fake as well, the locking mechanism is actually in the lid,” she said and poked around on the rivets, before finally finding one. When she pressed it, it sprang up a bit, and she pushed it to the side, revealing another keyhole. “I’ll go look for it.”

“Use Justine to question people if you need to,” I said. To pass time and out of curiosity, I turned my attention to the cylinder. Opening I found a couple of pages of parchment. Looking it over, I saw it was a ledger confirming a trade deal.

This caravan seemed to be the twentieth and final caravan delivering food to the dwarven outpost. In exchange for the eight hundred wagons of grain, vegetables, and fruits, the elves would receive eighteen wagons of iron bars, a half wagonful of titanium bars and twenty-four chests with over 900 kg of gold each.

“How many marks would you be able to make out of this amount of gold?” I asked with a slight tremble in my voice.

Linus and Ethan looked at the paper and just stared at it for a long time. Linus gulped, before finally whispering, “Close to three quarters of a million.”

I whistled at that. “I guess we’ll have to haggle a bit with the dwarves. Good thing that we’re only a day’s travel from their outpost.”

Around 30 hours later, I was making my way into the outpost. As far as I could tell, it looked exactly like the one I had in my backyard. Even with my cat eyes, I could not see anything in the total darkness after the door had closed. A low voice drifted out to greet me, as well as the sounds of crossbows being loaded, “You’re a long way from home, human.”

“Greetings, the name is Karth, we’re here to trade,” I replied in dwarven, even though he had spoken human. “We also bring greetings from Outpost Nine of the Holy Lands Under the Great Thagh Darom. Three moons ago, Overseer Two Three Eight from there facilitated a deal with regards to making a hidden staircase through the overhang over the Final Bastion.”

There was a silent gasp of surprise, followed by a shushing motion. The voice tried to sound nonchalant when it spoke again, “It’s not often that we meet anyone who has learned our language. We’re aware of the deal, merely surprised to see you so far from the Bastion. What do you want to trade?”

“As you said, we’re far from home and friendly faces. We’re currently at war with the elves—”

“We know that,” the voice said irritatedly.

I continued without any indication that I had been interrupted, “—and we’ve managed to get some spoils of war. I’ll admit they’re rather cumbersome, so we’re looking to offload them if we can come to a sensible arrangement.”

“We don’t care about provenance, as long as it was not taken from dwarven hands and lands,” the voice said gruffly.

“Perfect,” I said with a big smile. “You gave a shipment to some elves a few days ago, as payment for eight hundred—”

“We’re aware of the shipment. We take it that you’ve captured said shipment?”

“Indeed.”

The voice chuckled. “And you wish to sell it back to us?”

“In a manner of speaking. I was hoping you could transfer assets, for a fee of course. I also have a bit over a thousand leather armour to sell you.”

“What transfer?” the voice asked suspiciously.

“While I’m very much interested in gold, I can’t really carry it with me,” I explained.

“Not our problem.”

I shook my head. “I did not say it was. I’m merely presenting my problem, which can be your chance to make a bit of profit.”

“Okay, we’re listening.”

“I’m sure that all the dwarven kingdoms trade with each other, but it’ll take a long time to transport from here to Thagh Darom,” I said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The denial came too quickly for me to believe him.

“Let’s just say there is. I need the gold as soon as possible, not in five or next cycle,” I continued, ignoring his denial. “I want you guys to facilitate a payout by the Thagh Darom to an emissary of mine.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Because I would pay you for it.”

There was silence for a while. “How much?”

“Let’s talk about how much you would give for the goods I have. Then we’ll discuss a percentage of that sum as a transfer fee,” I countered. “Oh, and I’ll include forty-seven wagons and one hundred and eighty-eight oxen. Also, we have kept twenty bars of titanium.”

“Very well, how do you want payment?”

“Golden marks preferably,” I said.

“That can be arranged,” the voice in the dark said. “Five hundred thousand marks.”

“You must be kidding,” I scoffed. “In gold alone, there are nearly three quarters of a million. With everything else on top of it, one million marks.”

“You’re delusional if you think we’ll pay that much for stolen goods,” was the counter.

I laughed a bit loudly on purpose, before continuing in the normal low voice I used with dwarves, “You said provenance did not matter.”

From there, it settled into a long discussion. In the end, after paying the transfer fee and everything, it was agreed that in ten days, my emissary could come and get 700,000 golden marks at Outpost 9.

When I finally left the outpost, I had to close my eyes, because of the sun. It was almost noon, we had arrived just a bit before dawn. When I could finally see, I saw that my men looked nervous. Hrothgar was standing right in front of me, a worried look on his face. “Finally, they wouldn’t open the gate no matter how we entreated them.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He pointed to the road, far in the horizon and handed me a spyglass. Looking through it I could see a huge number of cavalry advancing in our direction. They were still far away. There had to be at least a thousand.

“Shit, get all the wagons inside at once,” I shouted. I turned to stare at all the elven prisoners and said in elvish, “I know you want to fuck this up for us. I’ll kill you if you make any trouble, this is your one chance to live. Get those wagons inside, now.”

One of the elves spat in my direction, and I immediately answered his insolence by pulling a dragon and shooting him point-blank in the face. The back of his head exploded, showering another elf in blood and brain matter. “I was merciful when I did not enslave or kill you. Don’t test me.”

The soldiers around me all drew their weapons and pointed them at the elves who were driving the majority of the wagons we had captured. Five seconds passed, and no one moved, so I pulled the other dragon. Before I had even aimed at anyone in particular, all the wagons were moving.

“Mount up,” I ordered my soldiers as I kept an eye on the frantic elves trying to get into the dwarven outpost.