As time passed, interest in the soldiers began to wane. While the children and some young adults remained on the edges of the village square, most of the rest had gone back to their everyday chores. Bread, fruit, water, and what little other provisions the villagers had were brought to the soldiers only to be grumbled and accepted with such disdain one would think the soldiers were doing the locals a favor.

Even the horse had initially ignored the hay given to it with a series of snorts. A quick glance from its owner, though, quickly changed its mind.

“Fill all flasks and water sacks,” the Dame ordered, as she splashed some water on her face. Unlike her troops, she didn’t seem in the mood for food, water, or even rest. A few steps away the cleric stood silently, like a shadow defying the sun.

Dallion—once he had revealed he was one of the awakened—had been placed a half a dozen steps away and told to remain quiet. Soon, he was joined by the remaining two village “volunteers.” It was no surprise that Veil, the village chief’s grandson, had been sent, but Dallion didn’t expect Gloria to have been as well.

“You’re all I got?” Dame Vesuvia asked. For once there didn’t seem to be annoyance in her voice, rather a hint of regret. “Names?”

“Gloria Luor,” the girl was first to reply. “The chief’s granddaughter.”

“Veil Luor.” Her brother puffed up his chest, in an effort to impress.

“Dallion Seene.” Dallion’s added in the end. “My grandfather’s one of the elders.”

“Hereditary ones.” The Dame nodded, then moved closer. “Skills and levels?”

There was a moment of silence. Veil and Gloria had been brought up knowing not to share details of their abilities with anyone outside the family, and certainly not in public. On his end, Dallion didn’t have any desire to have the village chief learn what he was capable of.

“Two threes and a four,” the cleric said a short distance away. His voice was dry and scratchy to the ear.

“Who’s the four?”

The cleric pointed to Gloria, earning her an impressed nod from the Dame and a face of utter disbelief from her brother.

“I’ve got attack skills and body at ten,” Veil quickly said.

As much as Dallion hated to admit it, that was outright impressive. Even with a single skill, that much power ensured he’d be able to fight nonstop for days. Back on Earth, he would have been an MMA champion at least.

“And you?” Dame Vesuvia asked Gloria.

“Attack and athletics at ten…” the girl hesitated. “Perception at five…”

“Seven,” the cleric corrected. His hood then turned to Dallion. “Attack and Guard. Reaction at eight.”

Thank you for letting me speak, Dallion grumbled internally.

“Single focus bumpkins.” The Dame sighed, then went to take a seat on the edge of the well. “I guess that’s all I could expect from a place like this.”

“Could have been worse. At least they’ve reached their cap.”

“Do any of you have experience fighting?”

Veil crossed his arms with a confident smirk. Even Dallion felt somewhat insulted by the question. Of course, they were experienced in fighting; the fact that each of them had increased their stats to such a level should have been enough. Dallion alone had defeated over a dozen guardians, not counting his experience in the well.

“Actual fighting?” The Dame clarified. “As in against other people?”

“I’ve been hunting many times.” Veil gave Dallion a quick glance, the glance screamed “I’m far better than you, scum” as if he’d said it out loud. “I’ve killed deer, boar, sometimes wolves.”

“And you two?”

Gloria shook her head.

“I caught a fish with my bare hands once?” Dallion cracked a joke. The lack of response told him that it had been the wrong move.

“So, none of you have actually fought,” the Dame said firmly. “Not even between yourselves?”

“Grandfather doesn’t allow fights between awakened,” Veil said with a semi grumble. “I could have, though. I can take on anyone here if you’d like?”

“I don’t have the time for games. We’ll be fighting for real stakes. If you mess up there, you’ll end up dead. If you don’t mess up, maybe you’ll be lucky enough to get away with a few scars and most of your body parts intact. You’ll be given an emblem and a dartbow. Guard both with your life, because if you lose it you might as well be dead. Now join the others.”

The speech wasn’t particularly invigorating, but it got its point across. If there had been any doubts that the three of them were in the “weakling” category, they were now gone. One glance at the soldier’s weapons was enough to show that their equipment had been improved multiple times and mended to perfection. The silvery gleam suggested that the level of each being well above seven, possibly more.

“What level do you think they are?” Veil whispered as they made their way to the non-chain-mailed group of soldiers on the other end of the square.

That was an unexpected shift in behavior on his part. For the first time Dallion could remember, the blond’s anger and arrogance had vanished. One would almost be tempted to say that he and Dallion had grown up together, if not outright friends. Being told there was a high chance of dying tended to do that to people. From this moment on, all three of them were members of the same village—nothing more, nothing less—and as such they had to stick together.

“Seven, maybe eight,” Dallion replied.

“Eight…” Veil whistled. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like to be eight.”

“Double digits,” Gloria said. “They’re all double digits.”

“Don’t be stupid,” her brother snorted. “There’s no such level.”

“That’s what they are.”

“Grandpa told us there’s no level beyond nine. Are you calling him a liar?”

“No!” The girl snapped back. “That’s what I see when looking at them. All of them are double digits…”

Just great. We’ve joined a group of monsters, Dallion thought. He too couldn’t fathom what someone of that level was capable of. If what Gloria said was true, it was no wonder that the Dame was so disappointed in their skills.

“We must stick together,” Dallion whispered. “During the hunt we watch each other’s backs.”

“Hey, Dallion!” Havoc waved to the trio. “Welcome to the volunteers. Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Keep your heads low and everything will be fine.” The large man smiled.

“So, this hunt isn’t as dangerous as the Dame made it out to be?”

“Oh, it’s dangerous alright, but we won’t be the ones on the front lines. As long as they don’t pick you as a scout or lure, you’ll be just fine."

“Yeah,” Dallion laughed, despite the sudden pain in his stomach. One stat was needed to make a good scout and Gloria had it at level seven…