Reborn From the Cosmos
ARC 6-Winter War-44

ARC 6-Winter War-44

Wenry isn’t happy being carried by me, much preferring Alana’s effortless care to my awkward empathy, but she doesn’t have much of a choice. For us to move at our quickest pace, I have to carry the small child with her small legs that have no hope of keeping up.

In that regard, I’m surprised by how quickly we’re moving. It’s not the speed of my “rampage” through Quest but it’s definitely faster than the average sprint. More impressively, Alana is maintaining the pace. I see her training with my wife has been going well, though I imagine most of her ability is a result of her previous years of effort. They haven’t been training together that long. This much growth would be impossible without an already strong foundation.

We lose a little time, what with Wenry being lost, but she’s able to remember enough to get us in the right area. Luckily, over two dozen men with no experience hiding their tracks leave an obvious trail. Once we replace the first hints, it’s a simple matter to run after them. Despite their lead, it only takes two hours to catch up. We slow down as we hear arguing ahead of us.

Wenry perks up in my arms, squirming once we are close enough for her to hear the voices as well. Once she realizes she’s not going to escape my hold, she finally whispers, “That’s daddy.”

Good, then we didn’t happen upon a completely unrelated group traipsing through the woods. I grin as Alana waves for me to let her take the lead. I watch with interest as her features set in a stern expression and she marches forward with tense shoulders.

The would-be raiders are in a sorrier state than I imagined. They look like average commoners, dressed in simple clothes that are well-worn and mended in several places. A few wear heavy coats and thick gloves. Those that don’t shiver intermittently in the chill. Each of them holds what I assume is meant to be a weapon. Plows, spades, and pitchforks make up the most of their arms. There are also many knives tied to their waists. One man has a whip, though I highly doubt he’s skilled enough to fend off armed combatants with it.

It doesn’t take long before the men notice us, ceasing their argument to stare. “Wenry?” a thin man with the girl’s brown hair shouts, stepping forward. The wiggling of the child in my arms gains strength. This time, I set her down and she wastes no time running toward him. It’s heartening to see that he drops his overly large fork in favor of scooping up his daughter.

“Wenry! What are you doing here? Your mother must be worried to death.”

“I had to come and replace you!” she retorts. “Mommy cried when you left and kept crying through the whole night. Come back, daddy.”

Her father’s face twists with his internal struggle. It is another man that answers, a younger one who is wearing a fairly nice coat and expensive-looking gloves. He is also the only one with actual weapons, a shortsword strapped across his chest and a spear in hand. I didn’t seem him before as the others obscured his rather short stature, but he steps forward at Wenry’s plea.

“I’m afraid your father can’t go home yet,” the well-armed man says. His dark eyes are full of repressed anger. “We have to get back what was taken from us. Isn’t that right?” The other men holler disjointed war cries at his question but it doesn’t make the apparent leader smile. It doesn’t seem he’s enjoying this business, despite spearheading it.

“We can’t just leave her alone,” the worried father protests.

“No. But perhaps the two women who brought her here would be good enough to take her home.” The leader turns to us, who stand at the edge of the crowd. “You two, do you know what’s happening here?”

“I do,” Alana says, and I let her take the lead. She takes several steps forward, holding the leader’s gaze as she shortens the distance between them to an armlength. “You are about to commit a violent act against the king’s law.”

“It may not be lawful but no one can say it isn’t right. Those bastards walked into our village, held our wives and children to the blade, and walked away with our food. If it was just humiliation, I could bear it. I would take it gracefully for our struggling neighbors. But if we don’t retrieve that food, none of us will see spring.”

“You’re doing this to save yourselves. The men who stole from you did so to save themselves. Neither side will be willing to back down so it will come to a fight. You’ll die anyway.”

The leader frowns. “Just because those bastards have good swords doesn’t mean they’re good fighters. We can take them, especially if we surprise them.”

“But can you pull off a flawless victory? You have no armor, no healers. Even if you win, some of you will die. How many of you are resolved to pay the price?”

She turns away from the leader to sweep her gaze over the crowd. “Who wants to be the one to disappear into the Abyss while your comrades return to their families? Can all of you keep your nerves when your hands are covered in blood and you see your friends fall?”

“Enough!” the leader shouts, sensing the hesitation invoked by her words. “We may not be soldiers but we will do what needs to be done.” He spears the men with a glare until they nod in agreement. “This has nothing to do with you, woman. Stay out of our business.”

“It became my business when a young, injured girl asked for my help and I agreed.” Wenry shrinks in her father’s arms, not understanding why a few piercing glares land on her. “Tell me this. What are your plans for the men of the other village? You can’t simply leave them or it’ll be their turn to march on you. And they won’t be merciful a second time.”

“We’ll teach them a lesson that’ll make them think twice.”

“They won’t have to think. Like you said, this is a matter of life and death. Even if you achieve an outstanding victory with no casualties, they’ll march on you.”

“What does that—"

“There’s only one way to make sure that you end this once and for all,” she says over them. “Kill them.”

Silence reigns as the leader gapes at her. “What are you saying?” he asks with wide eyes.

“You heard me. Kill every single man in that village. If you really want to be safe, you’d kill the wives and children too, else they will come back to trouble you in a few years.”

“You’re mad!”

“Why? Are you afraid of being punished? They stole from you first so you can make a decent argument. It’ll be much easier to do so without anyone to argue against you.”

“Be quiet!” the leader snaps. His hand rises and I have the feeling he wants to slap her, but he thinks better of it after his eyes flick to the sword at her waist. “We aren’t animals. I don’t want to know what kind of sick house produced you but we would never raise a blade against children, for saints’ sake.”

“Oh? You won’t cut them down but it’s perfectly alright leaving them to starve to death?”

The bluster leaves the man like a candle being blown out. “That’s…”

“It’s the same fate. If you would condemn them to death, then have the resolve to do it with your own hand, coward. Blaming your crime on the circumstances, saying things like it couldn’t be helped. There is nothing more despicable.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?” someone shouts while the leader stands with grit teeth.

“Are we meant to lay down and wait for death? Not even dogs could do it,” shouts another, agreement echoed by those around him.

“No. You do what you’re doing now. You pull together and you fight but you do so against the real enemy.”

“Real enemy?”

“The lack of food.”

“You!” The leader regains his confidence. “Do you think we didn’t already try to come up with a hundred ways to solve this without arms? There is no other way.”

“If that’s really true, why are you hesitating when you hear the consequences of your actions? If there is no room for other solutions, there should be no room for doubt.”

“I’m not listening to anymore of your nonsense.” The leader spits to the side as if tasting something foul. “Men, we’re wasting daylight. Fred, hand your daughter over. If the women know what’s good for them, they’ll take Wenry home and stay out of things that don’t concern them.”

“When reasoning fails, you turn to vague threats. If you put this little effort into thinking your way out of this situation, I’m not surprised you’re all shivering while plotting to skewer your neighbors on pitchforks.”

She brushes past him, knocking him aside with a shoulder. She holds out her hands for Wenry but her father hesitates to hand her over. “Do you want her to watch as you slaughter another village?” He flinches but slowly hands his daughter over. Wenry, cowled by the yelling, goes without a fuss. “She’ll be safer with us. Come on, Lou.”

The men watch us with heavy gazes as we walk away. Once we’re far enough, an argument starts, the leader trying to refocus the men whose motives have been questioned. “Are you going to leave it at that?” I ask.

“No,” Alana responds immediately. “We’ll circle around them and reach this mining village first.”