Chapter 157: Three-Way Standoff

“I am Helga Grimstad. Leader of the Ironsides,” the woman said. “And I’ve been organizing this mess since before half these fools got here.”

She stepped closer. “So when someone like you shows up with his pet army. I make it my business to know if he’s here to help or to take over.”

Reidar held her gaze. He’d dealt with aggressive personalities before, people who led through intimidation and force. This often happened when he still was the CEO and owner of his company. Helga fit that mold perfectly; it was just that she was a little too fiery.

“I’m not here to take over anything,” Reidar said. “I’m here to ask questions.”

“Sure you are,” Helga said. The sarcasm dripped from every word. “Your level is too high anyway to get anything decent from these quests. So, care to tell a better lie?”

Lena’s grip on her daggers tightened. “Back off.”

Helga’s attention shifted to Lena, and something dangerous flickered in her eyes. “Or what? You’ll cut me? Go ahead and try, little girl.”

The survivors nearby were starting to notice the confrontation, heads turning, and conversations dying.

Before things could escalate further, another voice echoed around.

“Helga.”

The woman and everybody else there turned.

A man approached the growing crowd. He was tall, fully clad in polished armor that caught the firelight and threw it back in brilliant flashes.

The armor was of masterwork quality. No doubt some high value armor the guy bought from the shop.

However, he didn’t look uncomfortable in it as most of the survivors would; instead; he wore it like he’d been born in it, moving with a grace that was far too weird for someone that should have been wearing it for less than four months.

His hair was long and blonde, flowing past his shoulders in waves that would have looked absurd on anyone else but somehow suited him perfectly.

His face was striking, almost unnervingly handsome and a spear rested in his hands.

The level indicator above his head read:

—[Aldric Jensen—Level 97]—

“This isn’t how we start this,” Aldric said. His voice was smooth, and he talked with the same calm as a priest, which was weird given he wore that armor. “Threatening new arrivals accomplishes nothing.”

Helga rounded on him, her fury redirecting like a weapon finding a new target. “Stay out of this, Sunwarden. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It concerns everyone here,” Aldric said. He stopped a few paces from Helga, his spear held loosely but ready. “You’re creating division when we need unity.”

“Unity?” Helga barked a laugh. “Look around. There is no unity here. This is nothing but a patchwork of starving people and far too many murderers.”

“Then stop adding to it,” Aldric said.

“I’m trying to establish order,” Helga shot back. “Someone needs to lead this rabble, and it sure as hell won’t be some pretty boy who thinks he can negotiate with monsters.”

Aldric’s expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted. The spear in his hands moved, no longer casual, now a clear statement of readiness.

“I’m not negotiating with monsters,” he said. “I’m trying to prevent you from starting a war before the raid even begins.” He paused. “Besides, he is level 120, and his… mounts are almost at that level. Do you really think you can do anything to him?”

“Well, he just needs to wait and see, and that’s true for you too.”

Aldric sighed.

“Why do you just see every high-level survivor as a nail for your hammer? Ah, and when exactly did you get in charge of the raid? This is a gathering of allies, not a brawling pit for your Ironsides to assert dominance.”

“Allies?” Helga’s laugh was harsh. “These are competitors, you idealistic fool. The System’s rewards go to the strong, not to those who hold hands and sing songs around the fire. This one,” she jabbed a thumb toward Reidar, “is the biggest threat to that strength to walk into this valley yet. He needs to be put in his place.”

“Your aggression will only turn a potential ally into a powerful enemy.”

“He is already an enemy! Look at him! He parades his strength, expecting us to kneel!”

“I see a man who understands the value of deterrence in a camp full of jackals,” Aldric said. His followers, clad in similarly well-maintained armor, began to form a line behind him, and so did those belonging to Helga’s group.

“I’ll tell you this now, Aldric, get out of my way,” Helga growled.

“No.”

The word hung in the air between them, a line drawn in the dirt.

Reidar watched the exchange with growing disbelief. These were supposed to be the leaders, the ones organizing the raid effort. Instead, they were seconds away from tearing each other.

Lena leaned close to him. “This is worse than I thought.”

Jake said nothing, but the boy had gone pale, pressing closer to Reidar’s wolf’s fur.

Reidar, Lena, and Jake were trapped in the middle. They were the unwilling focal point of a power struggle that had clearly been simmering long before their arrival.

<Since there is this animosity between these people, and it looks like they know each other well, it means they are somehow neighbors. This animosity doesn’t stem from nothing.>

Reidar watched the two faction leaders. This was Havenwood all over again, but on a larger, more volatile scale.

Helga took a step toward Aldric. Her hand moved toward the war hammer on her back. “Last chance, Sunwarden. Walk away.”

“I won’t,” Aldric said. His grip on the spear tightened. “Someone needs to stop you from destroying this before it starts.”

“Then you’ll be the first casualty,” Helga said.

The crowd had grown larger now, survivors pressing in from all sides. Some looked hungry for violence. Others looked nervous.

Reidar had had enough. He was not a piece on their board.

“Enough,” he said. “We are not here to choose sides in your petty squabbles. We are here to ask for information,” he said, raising his voice. “Both of you. This is insane.”

Helga and Aldric both turned to look at him. The attention of every survivor in the circle followed. Reidar’s words carried weight since he was 27 levels higher than Helga and 23 over Aldric. But it wasn’t just that; his companions were strong too. There was a woman at level 100, and a kid at level 80.

There were two immensely powerful survivors following him, while, in all the other cases, they just made their factions; these two or three were grouping, which made their faction among the strongest despite there being just three of them.

Aldric’s eyes swept over Reidar, taking in his level, his bearing, and his companions. When he spoke, his voice carried a note of disdain that cut deeper than Helga’s rage.

“The summoner speaks,” Aldric said. “Tell me, do you always hide behind your creatures, or is this a special occasion?”

<What the f…? Why is he hostile now?>

“What?”

“Here he comes, Lorian,” Helga said, which prompted Jake, Lena, and Reidar to turn to her.

“You heard me,” Lorian said. He shifted his stance, the spear moving with him. “You stand there with your army of conjured beasts, letting them do the fighting while you pull strings from safety. That’s not strength. That’s cowardice.”

“You know nothing about me,” Reidar said. Lena noticed Reidar was losing his patience and took his hand, because if Reidar so decided to slaughter everyone in this camp, that would just take a couple of minutes.

“I know your type,” Lorian said. His voice took on an even more disdainful edge. “You level up by sending disposable creatures to die in your place. No risk. No real combat. Just a puppet master playing at being a warrior.”

Lena turned to Reidar. “Stay calm.” Then Lena turned to Aldric, Lorian? Whatever.

“You really have a death wish,” she said. Pulling her daggers from their sheaths.

Lorian smirked. He looked at her with the same distant calm. “Funny. Why are you so mad when the man over there is saying nothing? Do you perhaps have a crush on—”

THWUMP.

The clearing went silent because an arrow slammed into the ground between Helga, Lena, Aldric, and Reidar.

The shaft quivered, embedded deep in the packed earth. It had appeared without warning, without the whistle of flight that should have preceded it.

Every head turned, searching for the source.

A figure descended from the trees at the clearing’s edge. She dropped from branch to branch before landing in a crouch that barely disturbed the dirt beneath her feet.

She straightened, and Reidar got his first clear look at her.

She was tall and lean, her body wrapped in leather armor that allowed for complete freedom of movement. Her hair was white, not the gray of age but a pure, crystalline white that seemed to come from heaven. It was braided in a single thick plait that hung down her back to her waist.

A bow rested in her hands, already nocked with another arrow.

Her level indicator said she was another strong fighter.

—[Seraphine Wolf—Level 109]—

She walked toward Helga and Aldric. Neither of them moved, because they knew they had no chance against her.

<They really are shutting up because of her at level 109, and not because of me at level 120? Those using summons really make them think I can be easily killed?>

Seraphine stopped a few paces away. Her face was composed, almost serene, with high cheekbones and eyes that held a brightness that seemed at odds with the tension surrounding her.

“Enough,” she said. “Both of you.”

Helga’s jaw worked, grinding teeth against whatever response wanted to burst free. “This doesn’t concern you, Seraphine.”

“It concerns everyone here,” the woman said. “You’re about to start a fight that will split this camp before the raid even begins.”

“Then they should learn their place,” Helga said.

“And who decides that place?” Seraphine asked. “You? Aldric? or Lorian?” She turned to look at Aldric’s second personality. “Some council that doesn’t exist?”

Lorian’s grip on his spear loosened. “Seraphine has a point,” he said only because he knew she would kick his ass.

“Let me make myself clear,” Seraphine said. “No one is in charge. The System issued the quest to everyone equally. There’s no commander. No chain of command. I came here to level up my people, and if you make trouble and they are not able to get the levels they came here to take, I’m going to stir trouble myself.”

Helga opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. Her eyes had tracked where Seraphine was looking.

Seraphine’s gaze had shifted to Reidar.

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