Otherlife Nightmares: The Selfless Hero Trilogy (22 page)

“Completely,” muttered Isabelle.

“But, what did it do? That doesn-n’t answer my question.”

“Rabbit? Let it be? Please?” Runner tried to hit her with his best smile.

She floundered under his gaze, her eyes dropping to the ground. She nodded a little, her face coloring nearly the same shade as Isabelle’s.

“Thanks. Let’s head back to the gunners. Hopefully they’re figuring out their angles faster than I fear they will.”

Runner patted Nadine on the shoulder, then trooped off towards his artillery battery in training. There was a lot of paperwork to do, and the only one who could do it was him.

Tomorrow morning they would reach Highpass Crossing. The day after they finished the dungeon, they would be able to see the capital city of the Barbarians, Kastell. Things were moving in the right direction. Finally.

Wait, no, I take that back. Nothing is moving in the right direction, everything is horribly wrong. No such thing.

Runner thought furiously, hoping he hadn’t jinxed himself in that moment. Fate was a fickle bitch who treated him like an ex. Sometimes she hit him with a booty call, sometimes she smashed his windows.

Hours later Runner had accomplished a great deal of logistic work. He had managed to lock himself, Isabelle, and Thana away in a tent. Between the three of them they managed to hammer out the inventory, supply train, and needs of the troops for the upcoming battle in Highpass.

Miraculously, they had also finished the final group assignments for the entirety of the battalion. Broken into groups of five, they were all relatively balanced to survive encounters without the aid of other groups. Though that took quite a bit more work on the whole.

Anyone could be part of multiple raid groups. Utilizing this detail, Runner had moved them into groups, moving those groups into raid squads, those squads into platoons, the platoons to companies, and the companies to a battalion.

Katarina and Isabelle each sat at the top of a company
.

For the most part it had worked out beautifully.

Unfortunately, an example had to be made of someone. One noble in particular. She had refused all attempts to have her work with others and join the requisite groups.

Runner grew tired of it in the first hour and sent her back to the king with a letter explaining her failings. Runner had made it clear to her that a second letter would be reaching the king from his own hand about the situation as a whole. Said letter would, of course, reiterate her recalcitrance at accepting his orders.

At that point she had tried to backpedal and do as he had originally instructed. Which fell on deaf ears. He had no patience to spare for time wasters.

There were no further questions regarding their grouping after that.

Sunless nobles, men-at-arms, ranged attackers, support types, and even mercenaries they had hired along the way. They were all mixed together, jumbled up, and accepted it rather than face the same fate as the woman who was being sent back like a defective product.

Leaning back in his chair, Runner let his arms hang down at his sides. The back of his head rested on the top of the chair, and his face pointed to the ceiling of the tent.

“I hate logistics. I’m not made for it, never understood it. Never have, never will either. When I did officer training, I only ever managed slightly above average grades in organization.” Runner sighed. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he continued. “Strategy and planning? I’m pretty confident in my abilities. Making sure everyone is paid and fed? Rather fuck an angry porcupine.”

“Should I find some quills and glue them to Hannah, Master Runner? I’m sure it would rile her up to the point of murder. Angry for certain.”

Barking out a short laugh, Runner shook his head. Thana’s wit and tone were further and further afield. Far from the prim little noble girl he’d rescued from a cage.

“I think with that statement alone you’ve been spending too much time with Hanners. I’m surprised you’d want to watch me make a move on an angry Hanners porcupine. That or you’ve always been this way and hid it better.”

“Could be I want to see her carve you up like a goose. Or I enjoy teasing you more since our garden tea party.”

“That, too. Belle, is there anything I’m missing?” Runner asked, desperate to change the subject.

“No, my lord. Everything is in order for tomorrow. I cannot help but express my concern for being a co-commander in this. I don’t feel particularly ready. I appreciate your confidence, but I’m concerned.”

Standing from his seat, he did his best to hide his irritation at the title. Hopefully she would drop it eventually. If you took the way she spoke and put it on paper, you could tell it was her by the constant “my lords.”

“I’ll be too busy for much of the fight, I won’t be able to hold a steady hand over it all. I need hands to do my bidding. You and Kitten will be fine. Lady Death and I will run herd on our overarching strategy.”

Pushing his fists into his back, he stretched himself out. A part of him wished he could feel the pop of his joints. Cracking your knuckles held no meaning when they did not pop anymore.

“As you will, my lordly lord.”

“See? I’m not the only one who enjoys teasing you,” Thana said with a smile in her voice. She stood up daintily, easing the chair from the table.

Runner briefly considered Thana and Isabelle before emptying bits and pieces of short swords onto the table in front of him.

“I’m going to go find Nadine and help prepare dinner.”

“Cheater. You still owe me a cooked meal from your own hands. You’re using her as a teacher rather than helping her.”

“Indeed, and you secretly love being outplayed.” Thana came in close and kissed his cheek. Runner had no chance to react and stood there like a stunned sheep. Thana did not linger and stepped out of the tent without another word.

“Even were I able to bend a pantheon to my will, I would never get her to do what I wanted,” muttered Runner.

“What was that, my lord?”

“Nothing, Belle.”

Grunting, he picked two sets of hilts and pommels.

“May I watch, my lord?”

“If you must, though I won’t exactly be very conversational.”

“That’s fine. I…I want to watch you. Watch you work,” Isabelle clarified.

Runner looked up at her and quirked a brow. Green eyes watched him, daring him to say no.

Going to have that conversation about not having room for more women in my life soon. No Vacancy. Sorry for hitting you with a seduction spell hard enough you looked like you needed to change your panties. Even if you are beautiful and look like an elven supermodel and good God do I need to get laid.

Pushing his wandering and unfaithful mind aside, he concentrated on Isabelle.

“If that’s your will.”

Runner set about his work and bound the pommels and hilts with dexterity. There was no point in balancing her stats for anything other than damage. Her entire goal lay around the idea of exploding her enemies. Deleting them in a single exchange of blows if possible.

Picking up the crossguards, he set one with
Fireblast
and the other with
Stunner.
Damage was damage after all.

He set the completed hilts aside and picked up the three-piece sectional blades. Nadine had picked them up back in Shade’s Rest. There were three bars of Dark Iron left in his stock. Other than that, he had three bars of Silver that weren’t earmarked for other projects.

Much, if not all, of his other metals were already tied up in plans for a suit of armor for Katarina. She seemed fond of her black blade, so he had been buying metals and armor parts that would go well with it.

He laid the three bars of Dark Iron atop the two outer pieces of one sword and the middle section of the other. He did the same for the Silver, but in reverse. Should this work, they would end up looking like negatives of each other.

All six bars had been bound with dexterity. Each section of the short swords had also received dexterity as the attached stat.

The swift movements of his hands melted the individual sword parts into their respective bars and then deftly back into a rough approximation of their original shape in mere minutes. Skill and speed had come with repetition and practice.

Isabelle kept quiet for the most part. A gasp or two slipped from her lips as he worked the glowing hot metal into shape with only his fingers.

Fitting the six pieces into two separate blades, he welded them together with his
Arcane
Smithing
. The finished blades were striking in their simplicity.

The first was edged in white with a black center. The second edged in black with a white center. Fitting each blade into its prospective hilt, he heat welded them in place.

With a click, they firmed up and become solid. Next Runner set about with the finishing touches for the blades.

A quick cast of
Stonehands
gave him the strength to grind out the edges. And each received a keen edge that he ground out between his fingers.

Satisfied that they were razor sharp, he began inspecting the flat of the blade. Fingertips brushed back and forth over the fine welding lines to polish out any imperfections.

Finally, to him at least, it seemed the blades looked complete and ready. The last touch was his red hilt wrappings.

Runner pulled the cloth free from his inventory and began to wind the black-centered blade first. Pausing before he finished, he bound
Disarm
into the cloth.

Skillfully, he tied the cloth in place, yet he still gave it a quick dash of agility epoxy. As it began to mist over, he set it down to one side and took up the second short sword.

While he quietly worked at the wrapping, the dull sound of artifact creation registered in his ear. He glanced at the first blade to confirm its state, then returned his attention to the one in his hands.

Imprinting the cloth with
Fade,
he tied it up in place and sealed it with the epoxy. Almost immediately it began to mist over.

Runner set the blade down next to its mate and stood up, barely resisting the urge to stretch his back out, which would provide him no relief. He instead put one hand on his head and the other on his hip.

“I’ll need to find Hanners after this and hand them over. I wonder what she’ll name them. I hadn’t meant for them to turn out so damned artsy fartsy cliche. She’ll call me on it for sure,” Runner grumped.

Then there was a new blade sitting next to the black one, the successful creation sound ringing again.

“You’re amazing, my lord. Truly amazing.”

“Mm? Not really. Broken. Like I said, give it time, I’ll outfit you in the same. Now…”

Scooping up the blades, he inspected them. There were no blemishes—the rough edges and the minor misshapen bends were gone.

Gloriously perfect, beautifully deadly. Checking the black-core blade, he pulled up the item description.

Item:

Effects-

Fireblast:
Chance to deal burning damage on hit.

Functions-

Disarm:
Disarms your targeted opponent for five seconds, or upon recovery of weapon.

Cooldown:
30 seconds

Attributes-

Dexterity
: 30

Agility
: 3

Dismissing the window with a nod of his head
,
he inspected the white
-
core blade.

Item:

Effects-

Stunner:
Chance to stun opponent on hit.

Functions-

Fade:
Temporarily reduce your threat level.

Cooldown:
30 seconds

Attributes-

Dexterity
: 30

Agility
: 3

Grunting, he dropped them unceremoniously onto the table and stared at them. His mind began to wander on the possibilities of his crafting.

Weapons, armor, potions, and materials all were available to him.

What about buildings? Could I make a wall out of twenty different types of bricks? Or even…vehicles maybe? Could I make a tank?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he made a mental note to talk to Srit later.

Selecting the “Hannah” command he had set up in his hotbar, he activated it twice. His location was pinged on the minimap for Hannah alone.

After that little run-in with Bullard, he had demanded everyone create a series of commands, alarms, and pings. For each of them as individuals and as a group.

A single ping atop his location came back from Hannah. She was en route.