Chapter 156: Sea of Strangers

The valley opened before them.

Reidar stood at the crest of the last hill, looking down at what had once been a natural clearing.

Now it was something else entirely. Something far larger than a simple clearing. The central space sprawled across what must have been several acres, ringed by ancient trees whose branches reached the sky. But that was not what made Reidar pause.

It was the hundreds of survivors in the valley. A camp could be seen from their position. Then they got closer. At some point they got close enough to see what was going on inside.

“That’s a lot of people,” Jake said.

Reidar had to agree. He’d expected other survivors, but not this many. The System had called everyone within five hundred kilometers, and it looked like most of them had answered.

The camp had no real organization. Groups clustered together based on whatever affiliations they’d brought with them, creating islands of familiarity in a sea of strangers.

Some areas were marked by banners or flags, crude symbols that identified which settlement the survivors came from.

Others had no markings at all, just tight circles of armed men and women who watched the surrounding groups with open suspicion.

“This is going to be a problem,” Lena said.

She stood beside Reidar watching the camp below. Her hand rested on one of her daggers.

“What makes you say that?”

There were a myriad of possible answers here. Reidar wanted to know what Lena had in mind.

“Look at them,” Lena said. “They’re not preparing for a raid. They’re preparing for each other.”

Reidar followed her gaze and saw what she meant. The survivors moved in tight groups, never straying far from their people.

“Ah… that…”

When different factions passed each other, they did so with weapons visible and eyes locked. The hostility was thick enough to cut.

“They don’t trust each other?” Jake asked.

“Would you?” Lena asked. She looked at the boy, who didn’t answer.

The System’s rewards meant nothing here. Survival had carved distrust into these people’s bones long before the quest notification flashed in their vision.

Jake saw a man clutch a sack of grain tighter as another group walked by, his fingers twitching toward his dagger. A woman in scavenged armor glared at a rival faction’s banner. Scars didn’t fade just because a glowing prompt demanded unity.

<Of course they don’t trust each other,> Reidar thought.

The apocalypse had turned cooperation into a currency spent only when desperation outweighed risk.

Shared purpose? A myth. The raid quest was another storm to weather, not a bond to forge. These people had seen allies become looters, healers become poisoners, and promises become ambushes.

“They’ll fight at the first sign of real danger,” Lena said.

Reidar nodded.

“It doesn’t matter. We might not be forced to join them at all.”

“Let’s go,” Reidar said. “We need to find out who’s organizing this mess.”

The trio descended into the valley, the sheer size of their summoned mounts drawing immediate attention. Whispers rippled through the crowd as people made way, not out of respect, but from primal fear.

Reidar felt the weight of hundreds of eyes on him, studying his group’s strength. His face stayed calm, hands open and empty. Havenwood had taught him that much: show you’re strong, but don’t start trouble. Don’t look like prey, and don’t look like a threat.

Though, the creatures behind him might have been overkill.

Reidar, Lena, and Jake were riding the wolves, but since Reidar could summon five creatures, instead of choosing two more wolves, which were as large and tall as rhinos, he chose the intimidation tactic by summoning two elephant-sized bears.

His level floated above his head and it drew gasps and whispers. Beside him, Lena’s level of 100 was equally impressive, but it was Jake that truly caught everyone’s attention. Not Reidar.

An 11-year-old with a level of 80 was unheard of. Reidar could almost hear their thoughts: How could a kid be that powerful? What horrors had he faced to reach such a level?

The level disparity was too much from the average survivor, most of whom struggled to reach the 60s.

Reidar ignored the stares. He needed to find the strongest group here, the one that would surely take control of the raid, because there was no alternative. The people here had to obey the strong.

But he knew, as did Lena and maybe Jake, that their presence had already shifted the dynamics of the camp.

The nearest group of survivors watched them pass. There were maybe a dozen of them, gathered around a fire pit where something that might have been rabbit meat roasted on a spit.

They moved deeper into the camp. More groups, more symbols.

A commotion drew their attention. Two survivors were fighting.

“Someone’s going to die before the raid even starts,” Lena said.

“Probably several someones,” Reidar agreed.

Jake watched the two fight. “Shouldn’t someone stop them?”

“Who?” Lena asked. “There’s no authority here. No one is in charge. Just a bunch of scared, frustrated survivors trying to figure out how to survive one more day.”

The confrontation escalated but the group went through the commotion.

“This isn’t going to work,” Lena said. She voiced what Reidar was already thinking. “You can’t force this many people to cooperate. Not with this much hostility.”

“The System seems to think otherwise,” Reidar said.

“The System isn’t human,” Lena said. “It doesn’t understand that we’re better at killing each other than working together.” She then turned.

“There,” Lena said. She pointed to a large tent near the center of the camp. “That looks like a command post of some sort.”

It did. The tent was bigger than the others, with several armed guards posted outside. A line of survivors waited nearby, presumably seeking an audience with whoever ran things.

“They look disciplined,” Reidar said. “Isn’t it weird?”

“They look dangerous,” Lena said. “And no, it isn’t. We can’t possibly expect everyone to react like in Havenwood, right? Even we were somewhat organized.”

“But how are they already level 80?” Reidar asked.

“That… that is something I don’t know.”

Reidar assumed that was because of the rising monster levels, but seeing these survivors, many of whom were level eighty, he understood they were not the only ones with some brain around here.

Perhaps these people came from areas where the monsters were even stronger, or perhaps they had access to resources that sped up their growth. Whatever the case, it was clear that the challenges they faced went beyond what the people in Havenwood did.

<I wonder how things are going in Three Lakes.>

And yet, when one of them noticed Reidar watching, they deliberately turned away.

Just as Reidar was about to dismount and go inside, the flap of the large tent was thrown open with violent force.

A woman stormed out. She was huge, a mountain of muscle and scars that dwarfed most of the surrounding men.

She was practically half-naked, clad only in a crude leather harness, fur-lined breeches, and strategically placed plates of dark iron that covered only what was essential.

The rest of her body was a canvas of toned muscle and faded tattoos, left free for a reason Reidar could only guess was related to uninhibited movement. A massive, two-handed warhammer was slung across her back, its head pitted and stained.

Her furious gaze swept across the camp, then locked onto Reidar’s group. She started stomping toward them.

As she neared, Reidar’s eyes widened because of the level indicator hovering above her head.

—Helga Grimstad—Level 93—

This woman was nearly on par with Lena, who had benefited immensely from his shared C.L.A.S.P. points.

To see someone else at that level meant one of two things: she had a powerful trait, or she was an exceptionally skilled fighter.

Or, most likely, both.

She came to a halt in front of them. “Enough with the pompous entrance,” she said. “This isn’t a circus for you to show off your pets.”

Reidar remained silent. Lena’s gaze, however, was anything but neutral; it was a shard of absolute zero fixed on the woman.

Jake flinched, burying his face in the thick fur of his wolf’s mane. The animal let out a soft, warning growl.

The woman’s eyes, blazing with contempt, swept over them and then narrowed as they landed on Reidar.

She saw his level, and a different, more calculating anger sparked within her own.

“You,” she spat, jabbing a thick finger toward his chest. “You think you can waltz in here with that number over your head and act like some kind of warlord? I don’t know where you came from, but I’m not going to hand this operation to some power-hungry moron.”

That started stirring Reidar’s rage.

Before Reidar could even formulate a response, Lena’s hands went to her daggers. “First of all,” she said, “who the fuck are you?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed, surprised for a moment by Lena’s high level before her face hardened again. Her lips curled and her shoulders squared, the muscles in her bare abdomen flexing.

“I am Helga Grimstad. Leader of the Ironsides.”

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