The first shot came from the Fighters.
Ben saw the whole thing; a dark window on the second floor of a building was the source of the first gunshot, which had done basically nothing. Well, it didn’t cause much damage to the mercenaries themselves because it missed. However, it put the mercs on high alert, beginning a frantic scramble and shootout.
The element of surprise was quickly lost, I noticed. It only took a moment for the mercenaries to re-orient themselves, using Abilities to regroup and create cover, like one guy who stomped on the ground and made small walls of earth. Gunshots began ringing out steadily, coming from both sides. Bullets struck several Fighters when they attempted to peek from the alleys, but their preparations didn’t go to waste. In urban warfare like this, the mercs would have a hard time gaining any sort of relevant advantage with the 3D layout of the enemy Fighters. For every Fighter that got injured or killed, a dozen mercenaries were wounded by the storm of bullets streaming from the second, third, and higher stories of nearby buildings.
Keywords: wounded, not killed. Between their more durable clothing, lightweight armor, heartier constitutions, more powerful Minds and the occasional defensive Ability, the losses of the mercenaries were somewhere between negligible and… well, there weren’t any, really.
“This isn’t looking great.”
“It is within expectations, Mother.”
Whose freaking expectations? Even though the Fighters had so many advantages, the mercenaries had turned shooting fish in a barrel into shooting monster fish in a fortress.
That was probably a saying, right?
“It seems that our allied mercenaries are beginning to make themselves known.”
As Beatrice said that, Ben saw a jet of water crash into the earthen walls, toppling a few. A merc in a nearby alleyway had been collecting water in a metal tub from a faucet and had launched said water at the enemy fortifications. I was actually learning a few things from this battle.
I had seen it before, but the people I’ve observed in this world use Mind in very particular ways. Rather than directly using it as a weapon, most people instead use it as an everyday tool. I had seen people carrying huge boxes without apparent effort, carting tubs of water like the one merc lady’s, and even doing some more delicate work in the Rotor building. But not so much for combat, or for casual usage like opening doors or picking things up.
Were they unable to? I doubted it. Harven had done some of those things, though I now knew that was mostly when he was in a bad or anxious mood. Rather, people used Mind mostly for Abilities when it came to fighting. Worse, people tended to have very few Abilities. Yelah only had one, as did her teammates.
From looking into a few Minds, I had determined that it was mostly cultural. But that still made little sense to me; in this situation where lives were on the line, the common people didn’t do much of anything with their Minds other than use their guns, which required Mind to lift, steady, and fire.
And the mercenaries weren’t much better. Why did they get Abilities for stuff like turning the ground into little walls or throwing water at people? I could totally do that sort of thing no problem, Ability be damned. But I could tell. That jet of water, for example, was pretty strong, but importantly, it was incredibly perfect. No wavering of the stream, perfectly angled paths, precise pressure and strength. That wasn’t the sort of control someone could handle, not without either ages of practice or something doing half the work for you.
And my money was on the second option being true.
“It just goes to show that unless we find true experts on Mind, we will remain mostly ignorant.”
No kidding. The battle I had been watching was progressing towards a stalemate, so I turned my full strategic array of views elsewhere. I did give Oyonshe one last ‘good luck bud’ to ease his nerves, which I felt only made things worse.
Gratitude is important!
Anyways, I looked towards the merchant hideouts. I had decided that their original plan to hide until the fighting ended was fine, considering how they would be less than useless on the battlefield. They hadn’t accounted for having to share their hiding spots, though.
There were still hundreds of people unprepared for battle. The mercenaries, though untrained, uncoordinated, and generally willful, had the experience and confidence to charge straight into the city, waving gun and sword in the air. Our full numerical advantage wasn’t being pressed because of all the poor saps still trying to figure out how to shoot something that wasn’t a friend. It did mean that the best civilians were the ones currently engaged in combat, but every bullet should count.
Each merchant had their own hidden location, so that was twelve ‘strongholds’ where people had been herded. Scores of mercenaries were already heading to the closest hiding spot; must’ve been some civilians that were followed by a stealthy merc. Graciously, I decided to warn them.
“Heyo. Uh, bunch of mercenaries headed your way. Might want to speed up the arming, maybe set up some better fortifications.”
“What?! Th-“ I didn’t bother listening to the rest of what the fat merchant said. He would figure it out. I did notice Beatrice send the man a B-mail, one with information about the enemy forces marching towards his location, as well as some suggestions for defending his position.
Wow, how nice of her!
“Do not worry, Mother. I will ensure that these humans protect the Linker. Er, and the strategic positioning, and such… things.”
Well, it was nice in some way. If one stronghold was under threat, then the rest weren’t totally safe, either. I instructed the rest of the merchants to speed up the arming across the board, just in case. One especially was far behind, the stronghold under the care of the one woman who had killed the Linker when Toh had tried to control the merchants. Was she being belligerent?
“Miss, please, we need-“
“Keep it down. I mean, I think that you hold it like this? Hey, what are you doing? That’s NOT food! Oh, Person…”
Ah. Nope, just incompetence. Huh. I kinda expected more from the only merchant who had noticed the Linker and managed to kill it.
“Ahem. You’re very behind schedule, Mesne. Got an explanation for me? Need help or something?”
“Ah!” the woman yelped, spinning around and drawing the stares of various people. “My Queen, I… er, I apologize. I just, well, I’ve never… Uh.”
“How the hell did you become a successful merchant? Where’s that skill I saw when you killed one of my Linkers?”
Mesne’s face paled considerably, even though I didn’t threaten her or anything. What was her deal? She took a few deep breaths, then stared glassy eyed into a wall.
“I apologize. I have never done this sort of thing before, and my position as a merchant is because I inherited a small business from my parents. It was never my desire to become a merchant, but I have chosen to take this path because it affords me various opportunities. My only true experience is in martial thoughts, a common practice among southern Somuians, which is why I was capable of destroying one of your vessels in mere-“
“Alright, alright I get it. You’ve gotta remember that only one of the merchants is actually used to commanding people, so you can’t really use that as an excuse. Get better. Also, martial thoughts? That’s pretty funny. Maybe you’d prefer to be out there, fighting among the Fighters? ”
“No! I mean, no, please. I will do my best here.”
Mesne was terrified, but she put on a shaky smile and turned back to the civilians, most of whom seemed highly confused. Well, that would have to be good enough. She was so scared, though, which was weird. I mean, she was safe in her stronghold, so if she defended it properly, she should be able to weather the storm all the way through.
“Oh my, what could possibly be the problem? Of course she’s afraid, you moron. You just threatened to throw her in front of a firing squad for doing nothing more than being inexperienced. I dislike her lack of progress, but at least give her a chance, you tyrant.”
Oh what the fuck. Get outta here, Queen, that is… probably exactly the case. But you could give me a bit of a break. Well, Mesne was being motivated, so I guess there was no reason to clear up the misunderstanding. I left her to it and continued my surveillance.
There were a few key players in this game. The City Lord’s personal guard was moving efficiently, acting as a mobile task force who occasionally stopped to help their allies. As of this moment, I hadn’t seen Yelah or any of her friends, despite the fact that they should be important figures amongst the enemy. Jill Yemonto was also still missing, nowhere to be seen. I did see various powerful mercenaries familiar to Toh and Harven. I still had Yelah’s knowledge up until their un-Linking, and they also knew about several powerful mercs. Most of them were team leaders or loners, no in between as far we knew. And they were smartly positioned, moving through the city at an alarming pace.
Dangerous. Only through their knowledge did I know that Yelah was considered an above-average mercenary, due only in part to her actual power. But she was still an up-and-comer. She was by no means among the upper echelon of Yiwi mercenaries, at least in terms of combat ability. Her track record was what gave her a stellar reputation, that and having a well-rounded, competent team.
But compared to some of the mercenaries I was watching rampage through the street, she was a chump.
Maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But even so. A team of six people wielding only broadswords and dressed in matching green cloaks literally cut a path through a street, tearing apart the civilians in their way. One of the six was plainly on guard duty, and he was blocking every bullet that rained on the group from the windows. One lone man wearing nothing but white skipped across the rooftops, occasionally leaning over and throwing something at clumps of people who subsequently exploded. A duo each wielded twin pistols, both women shooting bullets that seemed to seek out their targets without fail.
The regular folk were outmatched, to say the least.
The only saving graces were the sheer numbers of civilians which forced even the scarier mercenaries to slow down, and the allied mercenaries who often surprised the enemies into becoming more defensive. Oh, and a couple more things.
The enemy had key players, but so did we. Forget the City Lord’s guard. We had two mobile task forces. Toh and his team of a dozen mercenaries rapidly moved through the city in search of the Lord’s hiding spot and helped to stealthily take down tricky enemies along the way. On the other hand, we had Harven’s goons, who were also searching for the Lord while brutally pushing their way through enemy fortifications. It was odd to see people more brutish than the mercenaries, but I guess they were mainly muscle who made a career of threatening people.
Speaking of, how was Mr. Foot doing? I saw that he was casually strolling into random buildings, looking inside for a moment, shrugging, then leaving. What a strange guy, this Mr. Foot. Something about him was just weird. Not threatening or worrying, just… weird.
“Miss Queen, no progress on the Lord’s whereabouts. You really don’t have better scouts than me to use?”
“No Mr. Foot,” I sighed. “No, I don’t. I have great scouts, but not the kind that are suited to this sort of investigating. Especially not with the current situation. Maybe if you put a bit more effort into looking for Yemonto or the City Lord, then we’d be in a much better spot. I gave you some Linkers and everything!”
“And for that level of trust, I am flattered. But I’m really not a detective. Ah,” Mr. Foot said as he froze. A man stood with his back turned in the next building he entered, and before Mr. Foot could close the door, Yoho turned around.
“Oh, Yafoot. Yelah had mentioned that the queen got you, but I was… well, I wasn’t that surprised. You kinda deserve it.”
Mr. Foot didn’t say a word to him. His guard had already been up, but now it had skyrocketed to the point that it was hard to watch. Seriously! It was like watching a video at half speed with the quality turned down to unacceptable levels. His perspective’s annoying view meant it took a moment to register why. A mercenary stood in the doorway with a gun in Mr. Foot’s back, and another was holding a knife to his throat. I finally saw that more guns were pointed at Mr. Foot from the shadows.
“That’s quite enough, Yoho. Yafoot, I don’t know whether your luck is the best or worst of all time, but it is certainly one of the two. I don’t have all the details, but if what the young man says is correct, then you have betrayed all of us humans. I wonder why.”
Sitting in a simple metal chair was the wrinkled, scarred form of Jill Yemonto. I saw the true form of Mr. Foot’s caution; everything seemed blurry and weird because Jill Yemonto was the center of all focus. Clearly Mr. Foot saw her as the biggest threat.
But seriously! Was Mr. Foot lucky or what! Well, lucky enough to find Jill in a random house, but unlucky enough to encounter the woman while she was being closely guarded. There was something interesting: Mr. Foot hadn’t been killed yet. Which meant…
“Hey there, miss,” Mr. Foot smiled nonchalantly. “I’ve been looking for you. Well, you and the Lord. You know where he’s at by any chance?”
Miss Yemonto’s stern look curled into a sneer.
“Is that you talking, or the monster? No matter. If you’re listening, monster, I have some questions. Yafoot is a more valuable piece than you might understand, so I would suggest not being hasty in wasting him.”
Ohoho, is that how it is? I tried thinking of the best way to blow this woman’s mind while calculating the actual best course of action. Yemonto wasn’t wrong; Mr. Foot was actually a pretty valuable pawn, for several reasons. And something about him was weird, which made me uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to let him go.
I took a quick look at the rest of the city. Everything was stabilizing, to the extent that urban warfare could stabilize. The first stronghold was under attack, but the militia was defending it valiantly. Oyonshe’s street was full of dirt, water, blood and bodies, but neither side had advanced. Most concerning was the city center, where the smoking remains of the Lord’s office were looking to be witness to a future war zone as both sides rapidly converging on the area.
But otherwise, things were fine. Yes, fine. Fine enough for me to dedicate some time to this little interaction and potentially save Mr. Foot’s life. And, if all went well, maybe I would have some new leverage in this war.
The first shot came from the Fighters.
Ben saw the whole thing; a dark window on the second floor of a building was the source of the first gunshot, which had done basically nothing. Well, it didn’t cause much damage to the mercenaries themselves because it missed. However, it put the mercs on high alert, beginning a frantic scramble and shootout.
The element of surprise was quickly lost, I noticed. It only took a moment for the mercenaries to re-orient themselves, using Abilities to regroup and create cover, like one guy who stomped on the ground and made small walls of earth. Gunshots began ringing out steadily, coming from both sides. Bullets struck several Fighters when they attempted to peek from the alleys, but their preparations didn’t go to waste. In urban warfare like this, the mercs would have a hard time gaining any sort of relevant advantage with the 3D layout of the enemy Fighters. For every Fighter that got injured or killed, a dozen mercenaries were wounded by the storm of bullets streaming from the second, third, and higher stories of nearby buildings.
Keywords: wounded, not killed. Between their more durable clothing, lightweight armor, heartier constitutions, more powerful Minds and the occasional defensive Ability, the losses of the mercenaries were somewhere between negligible and… well, there weren’t any, really.
“This isn’t looking great.”
“It is within expectations, Mother.”
Whose freaking expectations? Even though the Fighters had so many advantages, the mercenaries had turned shooting fish in a barrel into shooting monster fish in a fortress.
That was probably a saying, right?
“It seems that our allied mercenaries are beginning to make themselves known.”
As Beatrice said that, Ben saw a jet of water crash into the earthen walls, toppling a few. A merc in a nearby alleyway had been collecting water in a metal tub from a faucet and had launched said water at the enemy fortifications. I was actually learning a few things from this battle.
I had seen it before, but the people I’ve observed in this world use Mind in very particular ways. Rather than directly using it as a weapon, most people instead use it as an everyday tool. I had seen people carrying huge boxes without apparent effort, carting tubs of water like the one merc lady’s, and even doing some more delicate work in the Rotor building. But not so much for combat, or for casual usage like opening doors or picking things up.
Were they unable to? I doubted it. Harven had done some of those things, though I now knew that was mostly when he was in a bad or anxious mood. Rather, people used Mind mostly for Abilities when it came to fighting. Worse, people tended to have very few Abilities. Yelah only had one, as did her teammates.
From looking into a few Minds, I had determined that it was mostly cultural. But that still made little sense to me; in this situation where lives were on the line, the common people didn’t do much of anything with their Minds other than use their guns, which required Mind to lift, steady, and fire.
And the mercenaries weren’t much better. Why did they get Abilities for stuff like turning the ground into little walls or throwing water at people? I could totally do that sort of thing no problem, Ability be damned. But I could tell. That jet of water, for example, was pretty strong, but importantly, it was incredibly perfect. No wavering of the stream, perfectly angled paths, precise pressure and strength. That wasn’t the sort of control someone could handle, not without either ages of practice or something doing half the work for you.
And my money was on the second option being true.
“It just goes to show that unless we find true experts on Mind, we will remain mostly ignorant.”
No kidding. The battle I had been watching was progressing towards a stalemate, so I turned my full strategic array of views elsewhere. I did give Oyonshe one last ‘good luck bud’ to ease his nerves, which I felt only made things worse.
Gratitude is important!
Anyways, I looked towards the merchant hideouts. I had decided that their original plan to hide until the fighting ended was fine, considering how they would be less than useless on the battlefield. They hadn’t accounted for having to share their hiding spots, though.
There were still hundreds of people unprepared for battle. The mercenaries, though untrained, uncoordinated, and generally willful, had the experience and confidence to charge straight into the city, waving gun and sword in the air. Our full numerical advantage wasn’t being pressed because of all the poor saps still trying to figure out how to shoot something that wasn’t a friend. It did mean that the best civilians were the ones currently engaged in combat, but every bullet should count.
Each merchant had their own hidden location, so that was twelve ‘strongholds’ where people had been herded. Scores of mercenaries were already heading to the closest hiding spot; must’ve been some civilians that were followed by a stealthy merc. Graciously, I decided to warn them.
“Heyo. Uh, bunch of mercenaries headed your way. Might want to speed up the arming, maybe set up some better fortifications.”
“What?! Th-“ I didn’t bother listening to the rest of what the fat merchant said. He would figure it out. I did notice Beatrice send the man a B-mail, one with information about the enemy forces marching towards his location, as well as some suggestions for defending his position.
Wow, how nice of her!
“Do not worry, Mother. I will ensure that these humans protect the Linker. Er, and the strategic positioning, and such… things.”
Well, it was nice in some way. If one stronghold was under threat, then the rest weren’t totally safe, either. I instructed the rest of the merchants to speed up the arming across the board, just in case. One especially was far behind, the stronghold under the care of the one woman who had killed the Linker when Toh had tried to control the merchants. Was she being belligerent?
“Miss, please, we need-“
“Keep it down. I mean, I think that you hold it like this? Hey, what are you doing? That’s NOT food! Oh, Person…”
Ah. Nope, just incompetence. Huh. I kinda expected more from the only merchant who had noticed the Linker and managed to kill it.
“Ahem. You’re very behind schedule, Mesne. Got an explanation for me? Need help or something?”
“Ah!” the woman yelped, spinning around and drawing the stares of various people. “My Queen, I… er, I apologize. I just, well, I’ve never… Uh.”
“How the hell did you become a successful merchant? Where’s that skill I saw when you killed one of my Linkers?”
Mesne’s face paled considerably, even though I didn’t threaten her or anything. What was her deal? She took a few deep breaths, then stared glassy eyed into a wall.
“I apologize. I have never done this sort of thing before, and my position as a merchant is because I inherited a small business from my parents. It was never my desire to become a merchant, but I have chosen to take this path because it affords me various opportunities. My only true experience is in martial thoughts, a common practice among southern Somuians, which is why I was capable of destroying one of your vessels in mere-“
“Alright, alright I get it. You’ve gotta remember that only one of the merchants is actually used to commanding people, so you can’t really use that as an excuse. Get better. Also, martial thoughts? That’s pretty funny. Maybe you’d prefer to be out there, fighting among the Fighters? ”
“No! I mean, no, please. I will do my best here.”
Mesne was terrified, but she put on a shaky smile and turned back to the civilians, most of whom seemed highly confused. Well, that would have to be good enough. She was so scared, though, which was weird. I mean, she was safe in her stronghold, so if she defended it properly, she should be able to weather the storm all the way through.
“Oh my, what could possibly be the problem? Of course she’s afraid, you moron. You just threatened to throw her in front of a firing squad for doing nothing more than being inexperienced. I dislike her lack of progress, but at least give her a chance, you tyrant.”
Oh what the fuck. Get outta here, Queen, that is… probably exactly the case. But you could give me a bit of a break. Well, Mesne was being motivated, so I guess there was no reason to clear up the misunderstanding. I left her to it and continued my surveillance.
There were a few key players in this game. The City Lord’s personal guard was moving efficiently, acting as a mobile task force who occasionally stopped to help their allies. As of this moment, I hadn’t seen Yelah or any of her friends, despite the fact that they should be important figures amongst the enemy. Jill Yemonto was also still missing, nowhere to be seen. I did see various powerful mercenaries familiar to Toh and Harven. I still had Yelah’s knowledge up until their un-Linking, and they also knew about several powerful mercs. Most of them were team leaders or loners, no in between as far we knew. And they were smartly positioned, moving through the city at an alarming pace.
Dangerous. Only through their knowledge did I know that Yelah was considered an above-average mercenary, due only in part to her actual power. But she was still an up-and-comer. She was by no means among the upper echelon of Yiwi mercenaries, at least in terms of combat ability. Her track record was what gave her a stellar reputation, that and having a well-rounded, competent team.
But compared to some of the mercenaries I was watching rampage through the street, she was a chump.
Maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But even so. A team of six people wielding only broadswords and dressed in matching green cloaks literally cut a path through a street, tearing apart the civilians in their way. One of the six was plainly on guard duty, and he was blocking every bullet that rained on the group from the windows. One lone man wearing nothing but white skipped across the rooftops, occasionally leaning over and throwing something at clumps of people who subsequently exploded. A duo each wielded twin pistols, both women shooting bullets that seemed to seek out their targets without fail.
The regular folk were outmatched, to say the least.
The only saving graces were the sheer numbers of civilians which forced even the scarier mercenaries to slow down, and the allied mercenaries who often surprised the enemies into becoming more defensive. Oh, and a couple more things.
The enemy had key players, but so did we. Forget the City Lord’s guard. We had two mobile task forces. Toh and his team of a dozen mercenaries rapidly moved through the city in search of the Lord’s hiding spot and helped to stealthily take down tricky enemies along the way. On the other hand, we had Harven’s goons, who were also searching for the Lord while brutally pushing their way through enemy fortifications. It was odd to see people more brutish than the mercenaries, but I guess they were mainly muscle who made a career of threatening people.
Speaking of, how was Mr. Foot doing? I saw that he was casually strolling into random buildings, looking inside for a moment, shrugging, then leaving. What a strange guy, this Mr. Foot. Something about him was just weird. Not threatening or worrying, just… weird.
“Miss Queen, no progress on the Lord’s whereabouts. You really don’t have better scouts than me to use?”
“No Mr. Foot,” I sighed. “No, I don’t. I have great scouts, but not the kind that are suited to this sort of investigating. Especially not with the current situation. Maybe if you put a bit more effort into looking for Yemonto or the City Lord, then we’d be in a much better spot. I gave you some Linkers and everything!”
“And for that level of trust, I am flattered. But I’m really not a detective. Ah,” Mr. Foot said as he froze. A man stood with his back turned in the next building he entered, and before Mr. Foot could close the door, Yoho turned around.
“Oh, Yafoot. Yelah had mentioned that the queen got you, but I was… well, I wasn’t that surprised. You kinda deserve it.”
Mr. Foot didn’t say a word to him. His guard had already been up, but now it had skyrocketed to the point that it was hard to watch. Seriously! It was like watching a video at half speed with the quality turned down to unacceptable levels. His perspective’s annoying view meant it took a moment to register why. A mercenary stood in the doorway with a gun in Mr. Foot’s back, and another was holding a knife to his throat. I finally saw that more guns were pointed at Mr. Foot from the shadows.
“That’s quite enough, Yoho. Yafoot, I don’t know whether your luck is the best or worst of all time, but it is certainly one of the two. I don’t have all the details, but if what the young man says is correct, then you have betrayed all of us humans. I wonder why.”
Sitting in a simple metal chair was the wrinkled, scarred form of Jill Yemonto. I saw the true form of Mr. Foot’s caution; everything seemed blurry and weird because Jill Yemonto was the center of all focus. Clearly Mr. Foot saw her as the biggest threat.
But seriously! Was Mr. Foot lucky or what! Well, lucky enough to find Jill in a random house, but unlucky enough to encounter the woman while she was being closely guarded. There was something interesting: Mr. Foot hadn’t been killed yet. Which meant…
“Hey there, miss,” Mr. Foot smiled nonchalantly. “I’ve been looking for you. Well, you and the Lord. You know where he’s at by any chance?”
Miss Yemonto’s stern look curled into a sneer.
“Is that you talking, or the monster? No matter. If you’re listening, monster, I have some questions. Yafoot is a more valuable piece than you might understand, so I would suggest not being hasty in wasting him.”
Ohoho, is that how it is? I tried thinking of the best way to blow this woman’s mind while calculating the actual best course of action. Yemonto wasn’t wrong; Mr. Foot was actually a pretty valuable pawn, for several reasons. And something about him was weird, which made me uncomfortable, so I didn’t want to let him go.
I took a quick look at the rest of the city. Everything was stabilizing, to the extent that urban warfare could stabilize. The first stronghold was under attack, but the militia was defending it valiantly. Oyonshe’s street was full of dirt, water, blood and bodies, but neither side had advanced. Most concerning was the city center, where the smoking remains of the Lord’s office were looking to be witness to a future war zone as both sides rapidly converging on the area.
But otherwise, things were fine. Yes, fine. Fine enough for me to dedicate some time to this little interaction and potentially save Mr. Foot’s life. And, if all went well, maybe I would have some new leverage in this war.
