Who in their right mind would kick someone awake? I’ll tell you who, Postman Oak. So here I find myself, a simple statement of ''Grab your equipment'' and now we''re walking through the desert straight towards enemy territory.


    Turns out Oak got the order to scout the enemy’s main camp in the Forest of Exodus, Lieutenant General Hadrian was also nice enough to allow him to take someone else. Of course, that someone else is me.


    It’s a full moon tonight, bright enough for us to see any patrols. Usually travel at such a time would be a bad idea, but the beastman have spells to help them see in the pitch black, we on the other hand can’t see shit, so we are leaving at night simply because more people will be asleep.


    Oak is just ahead of me, crouched low using the rocky valleys and sandy dunes to try to cut off line of sight if possible. Honestly, enemy patrols should be pretty drained, the Colonel Oberfell lead a massive attack that has the enemy on the backfoot, we''ve been taking ground faster than our supply lands can handle. The Wordsmith definitely sent the right man for the job.


    Oak holds up a signal to stop, I go prone and bring my rifle to bear. I keep my weight on my elbows allowing my breath to be steady. A spoiled breath is often a spoiled shot.


    I can’t see or hear anyone, but Oak is looking intently over a rocky outcropping. He pats the stone next to him. I find a place next to him


    in the distance is the silhouette of figures. They walk using the butts of their spears against the packed sand. Unfortunately for us they also seem to be heading in or direction.


    Oak pulls me from the rocky out cropping and leads me father back to where the stone meet soft pliable sand. Reaching into his bag oak pulls out his camping blanket. Doing the same, I follow along as Oak digs himself slightly into the sand and cover himself with the blanket. In the dark he looks like an odd protrusion in the dune, but whatever that much better than looking like a human on a dune.


    I remained covered trying my best to be as silent as possible. The footsteps grew louder, and I could hear their passing conversation.


    "King''s been offering gold, hiring any adventuring and monster hunting team he can get his hands on."


    Oh, by the Wordsmith that man’s accent is barely intelligible.


    "Hah, let’s see how those Forsaken deal with the best of the best."


    Ahh, the second one is much more understandable.


    "I wouldn’t be too sure, the Forsaken are a much different breed of monster, too damn smart and they can replace a body and outfit it with steel almost immediately. An adventurer is a culmination of our best training and enchanted gear that’s almost impossible to replace. Each one lost is one less clearing dungeons and killing monsters. Anyways, the treasuries going to be drained by this rate. Do you really want to win this war only for your earnings to be taxed to the underworld?”


    A third voice, how many are there?


    "Damnit Matthaeus! Things are hard enough, just shut your trap."


    A female voice. The men so weak they need their women to fight for them.


    The footsteps are agonizingly close. The pounding of probably a dozen or so soldiers.


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Poison hath no hold."


    POUND BY POUND, INCH BY INCH, EARTH SHAKE AND QUIVER THEN RIP!"


    Thy body is worthy!"


    The Hunters of Lisa, we weren’t supposed to die this way. I shouldn’t have agreed to this."


    Jeremiah I’m sorry! I love you! I just wasn’t brave enough to say it! Please find me in thenext life, I’m solost without you."


    Thank you"