Готовый перевод Его не звали, но он приперся / They never called, yet he is here: Глава 34

Chapter 34

"I'm sorry, perhaps last night's libations have taken a bit of a toll on my mental health, but it sounded to me like you, Tin, had just confessed to all of us that you were not only telling the Deities to fuck off, but the Creators themselves? Don't take this as an insult, but maybe you'll tell us now that it was a joke. Just to restore my sanity, if you don't mind."

The recounting of the beginning of my adventures on Alurej, the curiosity in the Hall of Choice, the selection of my classes and artifact, and the involvement of Bobik, made Losij go a little over the edge. There he was, switching to the high speech trying to convince himself that he'd just overheard what he'd said.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" There was no need to simulate outrage because I was genuinely offended by such mean insinuations against me. "I told you directly that I didn't tell those f*ckers to go fuck themselves, but only politely asked if they were fucking nuts!"

For some reason, my perfectly logical sentence, which was supposed to reassure the whole group, listening with interest to my personal story (edited a bit), caused the opposite feelings. Hans just silently choked on the firewater poured into his flask (real, 100% dwarf made!), Losij made a classic earthy facepalm, and even Tarija, who is supposed to be the perfect woman, looked at me like she was planning to knock me out right now and drag me to the mental hospital.

"Oh, you're just panicking!" I realized that my listeners had lost a bit of coherent speech, so I decided to continue the story as if nothing had happened. "I survived, I'm standing here in front of you, so it's okay."

"You know, Tin, that's what surprises me the most." The aging tracker sums it up philosophically, clears his throat of the wrong booze, and then adds a weighty ending. "Fucked up, of course."

"I have to agree with you, Hans, this is a truly outrageous situation." Losij came to his senses, and he interrupted his facepalm. As has our whole life since that unfortunate expedition."

"Fuck it!" With glowing eyes, Tarija interrupts the aristocrat's attempt at philosophizing. "What happened next?"

Well, at least someone is interested in my story if she hasn't decided to grind her pretense again. I remember where I left off, and then proceed to continue the story.

"Well, well, well!" Once again I'm interrupted, not allowed to continue my rant, only this time it's by Hans. "I may not have been in high society, but I've seen enough contrabasses floundering under interrogation, bitch! Of course, I'm not going to squeeze your balls to get answers, but what's with all the eye-rolling? Don't tell me, but you really have the face of a kid caught red-handed in the women's baths!"

And he laughed, the bastard! I have a mental trauma here that I'm trying to work through, and he's making jokes about it. The point, though, is quite obvious - I really do need better control of my face. Or rather, I can lie better than most, just as I can tell the truth without anyone believing me. But I am not able to speak bluntly, giving away secrets. A breach in my upbringing, you might say - no one will tell the truth on the Internet, as it is customary.

"If it's about your artifact, we all don't want anything from you, Tin." Losij raised his hands conciliatorily, clearly stressing the word "all," while looking at Tarija, who was bursting with curiosity. "I am well aware that many great relics lose a great deal of potential if the nature of their abilities becomes known. No one will condemn you for this mystery, that's my word."

How does that little twerp even manage to talk in a way that makes even me feel a little guilty. And I don't really want to make a secret out of the damn Ring! But fuck your grandmother! I don't feel comfortable talking about this shit with my mates. It's like showing someone the contents of a locked folder on your computer with three terabytes of instructional videos, only even scarier.

"I wish it were that easy!" With irritation I declare. "Anyway, as I said before, I grabbed my mythical bullshit by literally being in flight after another kick of their omnipotence..."

"I have yet to meet anyone who combines mythical artifacts and "bullshit" in the same sentence." The duelist, who clearly enjoys this conversation, makes a caustic comment. After all, I was usually the one who trolled them, albeit lightly, and here is a chance to pay me back in the same coin.

I wait for a legitimate elbow strike from both sides (from Hans, so as not to interfere with listening, and from Tarija for wanting to make a similar joke herself), which interrupts the chatterer, and then I continue.

"Anyway, when I first read the description of this delightful creation, all the goblins in the neighborhood could hear my foul language. I was ready to trade this crap for five kilos of buckwheat, a warm blanket, and a normal knife... Then, however, I upgraded my levels and class abilities, but, honestly, this thing was nothing but trouble for me!"

Three silent and questioning glances hinted 'stop dragging the cat by the testicles'. Like 'We'll listen to you, of course, but it's time to get ready to go because we've already spent half the day drinking'.

"Fuck it, look it, and don't tell me you didn't see this mockery of my fragile and vulnerable psyche!" With these words I dropped to the three of them an almost complete description of my ring, hiding only the active anti-admin skill. I decided to save the latter for the last resort.

Apart from that, the artifact didn't get any new abilities, though I hoped it would. On the other hand, it's probably a good thing that it didn't. Otherwise, I'm afraid of what they can do there, at high levels. It's better to leave it unchanged.

"Before you, especially you, little bird of speckled hair, start stirring up the wind, I'll point out that I really did lead him to death!" Tarija spoke up immediately, having just realized the message she'd received. I'm sure she's justifiably worried about my reputation, given the effect of the ring, and she doesn't want Hans or Loisij to see me as a treacherous rapist.

"Well, I knew something like that from the beginning, even before this conversation. Though I didn't rule out the possibility that Tin had managed to inspire you to a new path with words alone. He's pretty good at it, I admit." Losij didn't even think to accuse his battlemate of anything, and it would have been strange to do otherwise. "Especially since he could do anything he wanted to you for trying to kill you. Including something far worse than a slave collar and an invitation to a bed."

"If only he'd fucked me!" The woman's resentment was not easy at all. "He's just like you, little birdie, all in his principles, like a dancer in ribbons! He, you see..."

Tarija's indignation is quickly interrupted by the extremely cold stare of a real fucking aristocrat of an unknown generation who has just been insulted.

"Please be careful what you say to me and to the man who saved my life more than once. For what you tried to do, the only reward is death, and you know that very well. The fact that my friend not only did not kill you but that he did not take advantage of his position and power over you only further convinces me of his nobility. His, not yours. And to endure insults, taking them without offense, I am ready from him, not from you. Be kind, and remember this."

Now that was strong!

It felt good, too, especially knowing that he wasn't lying one bit and that he was telling the truth. I could write a book called "How to Make Faithful Friends". However, I doubt that the general public will be able to fulfill those points in which it is required to meet the legendary monsters several times, to strengthen the bonds of friendship.

Tarija, on the other hand, looked angrily, exclusively at the "motley bird," who was, a priori, everything that the lady could not stand. And the way he reminded her of her own mistakes in a way that was not at all subtle was mildly infuriating. Still, she was just beginning to change, not completely abandoning her old habits and judgments. When I saw the former bandit's hands trembling, as if they were eager to grab a knife or pull down the corset of her dress, I decided not to cause a scandal in the team.

"Have you finished?" I asked, looking as if I were interrupting a family quarrel, but I didn't let him answer. "Then I'll say something, too, if you'll excuse me. You, Tarija, should not think that a single decision automatically allows you to forget all your past mistakes. If you've made up your mind, do it, not boast that you've made this decision, hiding behind my back and making faces from there."

It hurt, and it stung, thanks to my titles, but it was effective. Still, Tarija was jealous of those of my comrades who had been with me from the beginning, and then she tried to drown them out, making herself look good in my eyes. That's why I answered harshly, making it clear at once that I would not tolerate quarrels in the party, nor any unnecessarily long and caustic tongues.

"For you, Losij, I'll tell this: every human being and every other rational being has the right to choose. Always has been and always will be. And so do the consequences of that choice, coming from your actions. And then the choice will be made for you, for example, by trying to work the effects of an artifact on you. The previous choice brought her under that same influence. I decided to let her choose once more, instead of the choice I made for her."

I didn't expect myself to say it, but it had an effect. It affected Losij, and it affected Tarija. The aristocrat only nodded briefly, acknowledging my rightness, and stopped radiating contempt and disdain for the one he'd mistaken for a common "bed-warmer". Let's leave out the moral issues of the local society since even such a well-bred and relatively adequate representative of noble blood saw nothing wrong in creating a personal sex slave (even if from a criminal and a murderer).

Tarija didn't reduce her anger or her desire to teach the "insolent aristo" a lesson, but she pulled herself together, too. She wasn't about to lose her chance, especially over one annoying kid. Alone, for she had nothing against Hans, with whom she was almost on the same wavelength. Still, if I were Losij, I wouldn't relax... for now.

Fuck.

A virtually impossible mission to save or take over the world, enormous potential powers, the promise of adventure and treasure, and now quarrelsome companions. I don't fucking get it: am I an accidental traveler or a fucking Commander Shepard?

All the pathos of the moment was broken by a loud, full and incredibly satisfied burp from Hans, who had managed to finish the contents of the flask and decided to ask the world his question.

These speeches of yours are very interesting, but are we going out tonight, or will we stay up all night and go out tomorrow? I'm just warning you, we're about to run out of booze.

Hans... you just...

"Hans, you're like always, I swear to Heaven! Have you even anything holy, eh? It seems to me that you can even taint the coming of all the good gods, you bloody drunkard!"

However, all things have a price, and loyal companions who can cover your back, are certainly worth a few minutes of scandal. And probable problems in the future. And the constant tension in the team. And the fact that I'm sure to be often yanked on the little things, like an umpire. And a lot of other things...

I hope I'm right after all.

"No, come on, Tin, confess! I'm dying to know! Who else, huh?" Hans would not calm down, trying to get the truth out of me, and not embarrassed at all. He said I didn't have to answer before, though! Apparently, that was before it was about boobs, I mean, women.

From my remarks, it was clear to the guys (and the girl!) that it was the second time the ring had been applied to Tarija. And now they were torturing me about "who was the first," literally cornering the poor isekai.

"I realize, of course, that such inquiries are very personal, but amidst the uncivilized behavior of the rest of your companions, I will only note that I would not mind hearing the answer to this question." As if to indicate his polite interest unintentionally, the swordsman... for the eighth time in the last half hour.

"Tell me! Well, at least tell me if she's beautiful! Come on, Tin! Come on, tell me!" Tarija, who suddenly realized that she could stop being "the only one," immediately showed her bulterer's grip and almost start torturing me.

At that moment, I felt a strange urge to use my shadowy steps and run away from this crazy company. It would be better if I were back on Earth, in my own apartment.

"Did you find a goblin?" Hans doesn't take too long to come up with all sorts of versions. "I've seen a few half-breeds, and they're all right if you're really drunk. Smallish, of course. Or was it an orc? My first sergeant, God rest his soul, said they were almost all right, even purebreds!"

Man, great almighty Administrator, tell me, why am I surrounded by such dickheads? Is it just because I'm like them myself?

"It was a swamp ogre." After choosing a moment when these sickos would simultaneously pause for another breath, I decided to unleash the truth on them and stop this mess.

No, why was it that they were more interested in what kind of a woman I'd found during my wanderings than in the rest of my adventures? Okay, Hans, because he couldn't be fixed. Okay, Tarya, because her motive was clear, but Losij! Though he too is young, Tarija's appearance really affected him, even if he didn't show it. But all the same, it's kind of weird.

In response to my confession, Tarija only furrowed her brow, for she didn't know much about the types of monsters - except for goblins and orcs, but even children in Kraj know how to tell them apart. Losij didn't show any recognition, either, asking the rather expected question:

Are there any such things? I have heard of forest ogres and hill ogres, the latter even in the ancestral lands sometimes met. I remember we used to hunt one when I was a kid. But I've never heard of swamp ogres, I admit. - He said nothing gallantly about the fact that I now had an ogre girl, reasonably suggesting that did not make hasty conclusions. The conclusions may not be quite adequate, given my strange indifference to the fully available and very "not against" slave, whom I had relegated to the rank of co-workers for some reason. Monsieur knows his way...
T.N.

Hans, on the other hand, responded with an entirely understandable and understandable phrase from my point of view. In fact, if I were him, I would have said it even more abruptly.

"Oh, fucking fucker! Tin, *****! I don't fucking say anything about your tastes, but this is an epic fucking monster! How did you even think to apply your Ring to shit like this? Just explain to me, how?"

I can't stand it and start laughing - their faces are too eloquent, after all. I could still pretend to be "ashamed of my vicious lust," but at this rate they would really believe that they had a complete ogre fucker in front of them. Not that I haven't ruined my reputation before, but there's no way I can change my nickname and then come back under a new banner and continue my great green mission.

"You've got such faces! Oh, I can't believe it!"

"It's not funny, Tin." He spoke up for everyone, the most reserved of all, I mean, Loosij. "I almost believe that you like that kind of... that kind, anyway. I've seen those ogres, I've even destroyed their dens with my father's men. So, I'm sorry, but I know what their females look like, so... don't joke about it anymore, Tin. By the way, Hans, tell us about these subspecies, since you know about them."

"What is there to tell?" The huntsman backs away, but under the gaze of the curious public, he begins to speak reluctantly. "We, I mean, the senior commandant of Markaski, you know, that outpost settlement, where our frontier corps was based... He was one of the few survivors of the encounter with these creatures. He, as part of a full battle hundred, reinforced by an elite unit from the forest guard, was encountered by a pair of swamp ogres. Four survived, not managing to take down any, only wounding both of them - a priest from the Cult of Flame had hit them well. Anyway, he's been bugging us all about this story, telling it when he's drunk. So don't joke around with those things."

He looked at the empty flask of fire water with displeasure, and the pathfinder sipped water from the flask of ordinary water, and then reluctantly continued in a calm tone.

"These monsters are no weaker than normal ogres physically, very quickly regenerate everything except acid burns and the effects of flame attacks... Fucking hell, it's been a long time, and I still remember that fucking lecture." Hans soaked his throat again, clearly buying time to better frame his story. "Lively, yes, and stealthy, too, bitches. Hard to believe, but on the swamps, these things can be as invisible as one lurker with a dumb sense of humor."

"Don't say that, Hans!" I exclaim in protest. "I am better at hiding, and my jokes are good! You're right, the swamp hides them, wrapping them in its energy. If you don't know where to look, you miss a strike and die. They try to end all their battles with a single blow."

"So you actually faced and defeated an epic monster?" With genuine respect asks Tarija, who, unlike the rest of the company, knew that I am badass but no more than that.

The two men looked at her with an understanding smile. They didn't doubt my abilities at all - they'd seen enough of me in our travels.

"Not defeated, though I was close to it, but subdued with the same ring as you, my dear."

"The second time, the joke is no longer funny, and no one will believe it." Losij is as serious as ever.

And only Hans looked at his laughing comrades in all seriousness, and then asked, or even stated the fact that had come true, in a lost way:

You were kidding, right?

"Well, what can I say?" I waved my hands guiltily. "I was a little underwhelmed when I realized what effect the ring had and what the monster could want from me. The fight had taken almost all of my strength, and I hadn't yet been strong enough to break through a really powerful defense. And swamp ogres, you know, have a very high resistance to my magic."

A loud pause as everyone looks at me with wild eyes.

"To make a long story short, when I realized what was threatening me at that moment, I screamed like a little girl and ran straight through the marshes in a panic. I didn't know the way, didn't care about stealth, just yelled and ran. I reflexively helped myself with magic, killed the creatures that came at me, and continued running. Soon after me a whole tail formed of those who wanted to eat me, and from those who ate the first. I was running like that until morning when I blacked out."

All three of them exhaled amicably as if they had been running through that damn swamp all night. It was as if they didn't have anyone here with a talent for telling stories. But if you think about it, the same bards retell fairy tales or legends, but here the adventure from an eyewitness, and even so nervous for any man. They can guess the appearance of a ring-modified ogre without a problem.

"You mean she didn't catch up with you?" Tarija, of course.

"No, it's a swamp!" I spoke soothingly. "Naturally, it caught up with me. I woke up in the morning, and right in front of me sat this wonder - three and a half meters tall and level thirty-three."

How quickly the expressions on their faces change! My inner troll is basking in the glory! No, I am, of course, ashamed, but only a little. I am lying because I am not ashamed at all.

"Tin, I'm going to hit you!" Hans promises vigorously. "Don't stew with your interruptions, tell me, how did you escape?"

I didn't. - I'm stunned right away. - I was very exhausted at the time, and she hadn't been so scary after 24 hours. Well... I didn't want to leave in terror anymore. I had to make a deal. And yes, just so you do not ask - the title Ogre fucker I do not have, because I'm, pardon my pun, not fucked her. Although she wouldn't mind, she's still three and a half feet tall and has the brain level of a table. A very fucking stupid fucking table So fucking dumb table!

"Huh!" Hans stays Hans.

"Hmm!" Tarija puffs her nose up proudly, confident that she's smarter than some table. Even if it is just a fucking smart table.

And only Losij restrains his laughter and tries to carry on a normal conversation, although his self-control is barely sufficient for this feat, which can be compared to a legendary deed.

"And how does she, I beg your pardon, want to if she's dumb... though yes, I'm sorry, that's a rude question..."

"You know, stupidity is not a hindrance to lust. Rather, it's even a help, good thing all sorts of complexes are also absent for lack of brains. So I had to sit with her in the company, as another guide and another, forgive me all the gods together, an interlocutor in those places you will not find even with search skills."

"Was it that bad?" And in that question, unexpectedly, there was a lot of understanding. Apparently, Hans, who was used to spending a lot of time wandering in forests and other unpopulated biomes, knew very well what loneliness was, and how it could drive you crazy.

"Fucking hell." I use a surprisingly succinct word to describe my state of mind at the time. "I can't tell you how much that silence pressured me. Of course, I could not talk to Ygra, but at least she listened, even though she was a green bitch and did not understand shit. And her guide, when I was able to explain to her that I had to be led out of the marshes, was excellent. We passed at full speed, not even lingering anywhere."

"And then where did you leave her?" Tarijz said. "Did you cut off the title, or did you send her back to the swamps?"

'Cut the title,' I take it, is a hint of a kill for the purpose of gaining experience. However, why would I expect any kindness from her? Especially since she is clearly driven to such words by banal jealousy.

"Don't you know that we are responsible for those whose fate we created?" To paraphrase a well-known proverb that I had already used to justify my actions concerning Ygra. "No, I admit that I had such thoughts, especially the second option, but I could not send her back to the swamps, and she refused to leave. To kill her... Even though I didn't fuck the swamp child, contrary to what you perverts might think, but killing her... it didn't work. I had to drag her along, all the more so because her stealth in the woods was weakening, but not completely gone."

A few seconds of silence as all three of us digested the news, and then Losij finally got it. With a slight pallor on his face, he realized that there might be an epic monster roaming around somewhere, but then he quickly pulled himself together.

"Well, animal trainers and masters can officially use tame beasts, so I guess a tame ogre wouldn't surprise anyone too much. If it's a swamp ogre, though, it will, of course. Usually, these classes prefer to cast their subjugation on unintelligent monsters, because they're easier to control, but ogres have never shone with intelligence..."

"Okay, then we can think about hanging out as a company."

After the last phrase, I start laughing again, under the first shocked and then condemning glances of the three companions. Don't kick me, though! And don't tickle me, either, Tarija! I'm a proud warrior of the Internet, I'm not ticklish! But you still need to step away, before the laughter hurts my stomach.

After all, while the drunken company passed out under my "I'll be on call" guarantee, I managed to have a dream communication session with Ygra last night. I even managed to add to our "pack" not only Tarija but also Hans and Losij, though I had to stretch the time in my dreams as much as possible, after which I began to hammer the right concepts into the stupid head. Fortunately, the idea of "this little man is in our pack" was a familiar one to Ygra's brains (that's where you have to laugh) from earlier training sessions, so she accepted Hans and Losij into the ranks of the completely inedible relatively easily.

The second night at the camp passed just as merrily, for people somehow didn't dare to venture into the camp with our company. First of all, we were too close to normally inhabited and controlled land. Secondly, some people might have been put off by our equipment and the general impression of "tough dudes". Third, at times I got out of my dream world and scanned the area, even if I had to pay for it with reserves and headaches. And most importantly, I stretched a few traps around the camp with alchemical flasks that didn't contain Chanel perfume.

Those two strange fellows (not from our caravan), sneaking up on us, clearly appreciated my talents-two breaths and paralysis of the respiratory muscles guaranteed. I would have been ashamed of having poisoned the poor and innocent guys if they hadn't come in from the woods, without their belongings and sleeping bags, but with sharpened knives.

I didn't even comment on it in the morning, just removed the rest of the traps from the trees, and that was it. Hans, by the way, also confined himself to spitting on the corpses, apparently regretting having had time to relieve his bladder before he found it. The clairvoyance told me that the former army huntsman hated the workers of the knife and ax even more than he hated the green-skinned ones. With the latter, it was clear at once that they were enemies and had to be killed to death, but here you had to understand who was in front of you.

In any case, no one cared at all about the losers' fate. A brief epitaph to them was a few words spoken in between, informing Tarija and Locij of discovery. The final nail in their coffin was an indifferent "fuck it" on behalf of the former gangster. She had no intention of feeling sorry for her colleagues.

"Fucking hell." Tarija was surprisingly laconic.

"Amazing!" Losij only surpassed her speech by a couple of syllables.

"That's it, I'm at peace! Now I won't think you're followed by a typical bogeyman like an ogre. Although, at really, I didn't expect your investment of beauty to turn an ogre into... this one." Hans was the only one who could get more than one word out of his mouth. But those words were about boobs anyway, so I wasn't worried about the bloody vulgarian's sanity.

"Y?" The ogre looked at our company with the kind of scrutiny a small child gives to a tiny house dog. It seems cute, but it might decide to tear its legs off, or just hug it tightly until it was bone-crunching.

The impression this gal made was really indelible, and I won't argue with that. If she had had any brains at all, I would have suspected her of being deliberately theatrical, but, alas, she had never had any. Actually, the very appearance of such a massive creature coming out of stealth mode is a very unusual sight. At first, only a faint outline of the body appears, as if it were a vapor or an optical illusion. Then the image becomes clearer, and right in front of you is a huge body, which reeks of primordial power.

Add to that the two enormous melons, the general nudity, the eye-catching aura, and the maddening smell of pheromones, and you have a real sensation that threatens to turn into a mass orgy. Although, to be honest, I doubt that Ygra would allow anyone but me onto her body, I also doubt that she would even realize that she was being molested. Like, they're groping the boobs, so let them grop her, what's she care?

Thank the same boobs that I had the brains to cover it. The entire company received a small bottle of the highest-grade pheromone blocker. I preferred to just cover myself with shadow protection, but I made plenty of it. What if I needed it? I did, as you can see.

I warned all three of them about the properties of the ogre's aura, and I panicked the men. They, no matter how hard I tried, imagined her appearance to be slightly embellished, but not brought up to the current parameters by the ring. I think, no matter how much they might claim otherwise, they only got the "person with VERY strange tastes" marker off me now.

So the orgy didn't happen.

Losij was protected by his new epic Heavenly Warrior class, allowing him to cut off mental and subduing damage at the expense of the class stat, among other things. Hans, well aware of how dangerous this Valkyrie really is, looked at her with an archer's eye, not concentrating on her appearance, but as if he were looking through her.

But Tarija was stuck almost immediately, watching the two rippling watermelons with her mouth open and hardly drooling at the same time. It was the first time I'd ever seen how harsh an ogre's body could be, especially on a local who was completely untrained and devoid of defense skills. She had no heroic protection, though.

Actually, Ygra doesn't give a damn about Tarija's looks. No, the System allows her to understand exactly what effect her new skills have, but... Let's just say she thinks too strangely, even to try to purposefully apply these skills to me. And yet her desire to "kick me in the head and into a cave" regarding my person is obvious without any clairvoyance. The child of hunting and fighting, she unwittingly perceives her gifted abilities as an extension of her fighting abilities. They, by the way, can actually be used in combat, but their original purpose is quite different.

It's a good thing she doesn't understand that.

It's a bad thing, though, too.

The main thing is that her abilities don't blow the brains out of the rest of the party, which can be very unpleasant. But I'm sure that when I get to Ostmark, both my comrades-in-arms will go in search of a brothel. And so would I, to tell the truth.

"Well, guys, let's get acquainted." Breaking the pause. "And yes, Hans, give Tarija a slap before she loses her mind."

The traditional shish kebab scene, where you have to keep your eye on several targets at once instead of just one, could have been the perfect basis for a Benny Hill-inspired comedy show. Marinate the meat, drive Ygra away, leave the meat for Hans, drive Ygra away from Hans, who almost grabbed his blade, get the wood from Losij, drive Ygra away from the tracker, who grabbed his weapon, drive Tarija away from Ygra's boobs before she starts pawing them, using the total ignoring of her actions by the ogres, drive Ygra away from the meat again... and so on.

Toward the end, Tarija was like a puppet, devoid of will at all, even when she wasn't looking at the object of her desire. Hans and Losij, fortunately, were too frightened by my very first companion, which made them stay in combat mode. And in that state, the imperative "not to look at the owner of a dangerous ability" overcame the body's reflexes. In general, the guys were quite adequate.

I had to give the townswoman a drug with the mysterious property of temporarily increasing her willpower so that her eyes would return the intellect. Seriously, it takes a lot to look even dumber than Ygra. After taking this drug, I had to give her a quick batch of the excitement suppressant, or she would have jumped on me right there.

All this, of course, under the gaze of the guys laughing quietly at my efforts, who had even fallen out of combat mode. They laughed until, right next to them, behind their backs, the familiar "Y? Ogra noticed that everyone was having fun and decided to participate herself, stepping out of the concealment barely close to the men. If Losij was clearly using a class skill, Hans seemed to have discovered his own version of the blink on sheer enthusiasm!

After that, things got even funnier, because not only did I have to chase Ygra away from the barbecue and the pot of porridge, but I also had to save Hans and Losij from the merry giantess, who apparently thought that the humans were playing that way. Swamp ogres are solitary, of course, but they have their fun with the youngsters similarly at times. And to her, my companions are nothing more than mindless youngsters... All right, teenagers, already learning how to draw first blood, but still too small and weak to live on their own.

And then I had to revive the accidentally stuck Tarija back in. She was told three times not to look directly at the green-skinned woman, but she couldn't help but dart a glance at the monster's figure, and then she couldn't tear herself away.

Fun with facking a capital "F"!

"If I, **** *****, tell anyone how I cooked food in a company like that, I'll probably get coins tossed at me for telling such a tale!" Grimly, the not-so-young pathfinder spoke, making no attempt to rise from the ground. After such a marathon, during which he almost cough up his own lungs and liver, he wanted only to lie down and die.

"Young ladies of high society often manage to interest the man they like through skillful cooking. But here I see..." Losij clearly wanted to make fun of my method of taming the swamp ogres, with shish kebab, and so he had to gather his remaining strength in his fist to get away from the aimed throw of the cone.

He dodges it.

But only from the first one.

"Wake up Tarija, since she's not in an adequate state again, and let's sit down to eat. I'm getting tired of these adventures."

Even Ygra didn't argue with the very eloquent stare I was giving everyone around me. She sat down with her bare ass on the bare ground and held out her hand to the meat, demanding it. The very realization that she will have to share the deliciousness with three extra people (I did not count as an extra), required her to quickly shovel all the deliciousness in her stomach. But here came the thirst to savor the tasty treat for as long as possible, and the ogre experienced a hitherto unknown torment of moral choice. And under my stern gaze, even she realized that simply stealing all the food and taking it back to the woods would be a reckless decision.

In short, we had a meal.

It took more effort than wiping out that bloody horde of attacking orcs that came at our caravan. It's a hell of comparison, really! It's easier for us Heroes to wipe out an entire army than it is to make a meal for ourselves.

When we get to Ostmark, I'll get drunk.

This time I was no longer sitting alone in the tavern, but in a pleasant company of comrades-in-arms. Even though I did not choose the place at all, but a real professional in this matter - that is, Hans, of course - but the main principle, sounding as "eat only where the kitchen smells nice," was familiar not only to me alone. Also, the pathfinder was absolutely determined to swell me up to the point of unconsciousness... As if I was against it.

Alas, everything in this world comes with a price, including high stats and obscenely inflated skills. The wine felt like juice, even though it tasted like alcohol, and the firewater weathered faster than I could drink another drink. No, in theory, I could just drink a whole bottle of this wonderful liquid at once, or even two at once. After such a drink even I would get drunk, but then what was the point of this feast. And the company itself is much more pleasant to me than the usual drinking of alcoholic beverages.

I thought, aloof, that the reason for my amazing resistance to alcohol was not my high endurance. Seriously, I have a lot of endurance, but I don't have more than a hundred. It was probably the fault of my high Shadows, which somehow reduced the effects of poisons on my body. Or was it the effect of advanced alchemy? Like 'There is some resistance on you, darling, so you don't get poisoned during another experiment.'

No, what kind of nonsense am I thinking of?

For the first time in a long time, I'm doing well here, and I can't just start enjoying life as a normal isekai should. I feel like I am physically incapable of normal rest. Although a normal rest for me has always been to surf the internets and find a fattier or thinner meal...

"What now?" The question, which had been hanging in the air since the meeting, but which no one dared to voice, was asked by the only woman in our company, though only after she had whined enough about how much the presence of the swamp ogre had overwhelmed her, and there were few decent words in her whining and most of them were excuses.

Two words and it would be hard to answer them, even with hours of speech. So really, what now? I mean, we already seem to have decided that this situation must be changed, but the decision does not imply an automatic plan of action. And we simply don't have a plan - unless you count platitudes like going to the capital and killing all the bad guys there, saving all the good guys, and robbing the royal treasury for dessert, so we don't leave empty-handed. If I want to not just die beautifully and pompously, dragging my comrades along with me, but really do something useful, I need a normal plan of action.

"I certainly have detractors in the Capital," Losij said, staring thoughtfully at the overflowing ale in his mug. "In fact, it was because of my detractors that I left the Capital. Even so, I still had a few acquaintances and debtors, including even a couple working for the ruler's palace. Not in high places, of course, but even they might know something. Of course, we'll have to pay them well, and somehow make sure they don't report our interest in such a forbidden and delicate subject as the Summoning..."

"But at least it's something to start with." I'll finish it for him. "And we don't have to start asking questions directly, we can get the information out the hard way. And as for keeping secrets, I have some ideas."

"Me, too!" As if inadvertently, a drunken Tarya remarked, looking at us with sober, sober eyes. "You remember, Tin."

She got a pensive look in return from Losij and Hans, who clearly didn't expect her to be any good. Probably somewhere in the back of their minds they still believed that I was holding her for her pretty face, and not for her actual usefulness. Well, let them get used to it.

"I've never forgotten, believe me." I thoughtfully held out, and then drank the rest of the fire liquid in the rather large cup with a gulp and began to think seriously. I must have looked more serious than ever, for all three of them immediately picked themselves up and shed their idle mood, like heavy clothes when they entered the room. One minute we weren't drinking, the next we were thinking.

"The first thing I'd like to point out is the need to grind up our levels." In a businesslike tone, I say that at the same time I cover our table with silence. "I'm quite sober about my strength, and I'm not yet sure if I can pull off a battle against a really serious opponent without resorting to extreme measures. If we're lucky, we shouldn't have to fight at all, but let's be honest with each other, guys, I don't believe in that kind of luck."

The last phrase only provoked synchronized laughter from both men - they had already experienced heroic luck and the ability to find himself in a place where trouble was coming. As they became my companions, they began to test it. Tarija, too, who had heard their stories, knew what they were talking about, and she was in no hurry to show her skepticism.

"Hans needs a second class, and it won't be long now. Tarija needs to take at least the first. And I need to sort out my class stuff..." And to finally distribute my skill points. "And, you know... we need to get used to each other. Even though the three of us fought together, your strength wasn't as impressive as it is now. And we had new companions, too."

The response was understandable approval - they were thinking something like that themselves.

"Levels are good." The aristocrat backs me up. "Combat coordination is fine, Heaven is my witness, but more important is the question of where and what we should use to gain these levels and to train our cooperation."

The next hour and a half passed with a fruitful discussion of possible courses of action. Even though the choice was a creaky one, the feeling of inactivity disappeared and was replaced by my usual working atmosphere. All I had to do was to present the whole task as another long-term project, after which the seeming impracticability was replaced by a businesslike approach and attempts to break the whole into discrete tasks.

I had to renew the silence around our table a few more times, for there was so much noise in the rest of the tavern that no one paid any attention to the lack of sound from our cubicle. In the end, the route was chosen, as was an approximate plan of action. We would have to make a long detour instead of going straight to the capital, but we could visit the house of our swordsman, where there are a couple of his grandfather's old diaries. According to Losij, it was his grandfather who told him about the situation with the Heroes, so his journals may be the key to answering some questions.

Yes, he had read it before, but back then he didn't know what to look for. And now, with the help of my clairvoyance, we can easily get out of the yellowed pages what his late grandfather might have coded there. Somehow I have no doubt that I will find something there.

It would have been the same as all the other evenings, only with the difference that we were discussing really important plans, not bullshitting. It would have been... if it hadn't been for a single message from my dear Sistema.

Antihero: From the very first day of your stay in the new world, you had to challenge the whole world. Your very appearance was a challenge! You could hide, you could disappear, you could give up your role, but you still made your choice. It was at that moment that you confronted your fellow Heroes. You will be called Evil. You will be branded with every stigma they can think of. You and those who follow you will most likely die hated, persecuted, and driven away. But that will be your decision. You get no reward except the knowledge of the loss and pain to come. You chose them yourself, though, didn't you?

For some reason, there is no desire to be angry at the System and the Admins trolling me, and there is no rejection, despair, or at least anger. Somewhere in my chest, there is a clear understanding that at this very moment, today, holding in my hands the mug of wine I had once again filled, I gave up the possibility of turning back.

Now all I have to do is go forward, breaking through all the obstacles. Until something fell. Either me or the obstacles.

I understand with absolute clarity that a loner has no chance against a system that has been built not for centuries, but thousands of years. There have been many such loners, hungry for change, believing in their immortality and righteousness. There were many of them, but there are no more, and the system has remained in place. They are dead, and those they fought with thriving, calling again and again for another unlucky fool who was deprived of choice from the beginning. So it was, so it is, and so it probably will be in the future.

One cannot win this war.

But I'm not alone anymore.

* * *

The end of the first part of the first volume of the series. I'm starting the second one right now, and there's already enough material to go around.

The second part will cover not only Kostik's point of view, but will also be interrupted from time to time by interludes and other fun.

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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/80370/522827

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP