Chapter 603 Talking To The Platoon Leader
The party of twelve walked through the war camp, which was nothing more than tents, pitched up in neat rows. But the sheer size of it was astounding.
From the gossip a few of them gathered, with their heightened senses, they understood this wasn't the only war camp, either. They also quickly noticed that no one cared about their strange race composition.
Many other groups of varied races were hanging out around small campfires or on the training grounds.
What took Astaroth the most off guard, was the few clusters of Elves and Ash Elves, hanging around each other like everything was unicorns and butterflies. They talked, laughed, and sparred amicably.
Reaching the tent marked as their quest location on the minimap, Astaroth announced himself before entering.
"Party leader Astaroth, come to talk with the platoon leader of platoon fourteen."
From inside the tent, he heard a voice answer.
"Come in, soldier Astaroth. Bring in your party so I can meet my recruits."
Astaroth pushed aside the tent flap and signalled for his party members to go in. Once the last one passed him, he entered and closed the flap behind himself.
Inside the tent, the setting was minimalistic, to say the least. In the center of the tent, a large rectangular table took up most of the area, and on it, a large map with wooden markers.
Phoenix instantly recognized this as a war map. Her eyes were already darting around the multiple elements on it, judging what type of battle they would be engaging in.
And by the looks of the wooden markers, this was an encirclement. They were sieging a fortress of some kind.
Astaroth stepped around his party and saw the officer under the light of the few covered lamps around the tent. His breath cut short.
He recognized this person.
"Old man Aberon?!" he blurted out.
The officer lifted his head from the map, his robes fluttering around him. He frowned as he looked at Astaroth.
"Do we know each other, soldier? Also, I have been called many things. But old man? That is a first. I am barely forty years old, which is very young for an Elf."
Astaroth choked on his saliva.
This was Aberon, he was sure of it. The younger form of him, at least.
He had seen him in this form only a few times, but there was no mistake.
"I'm sorry, sir. We don't know each other. I merely heard rumours of your power," he lied.
This confirmed the theory he had, that this dungeon was a time jump dungeon. He quickly sent a message in the party chat.
'I want all of you to respect this man as if he were me. No, scratch that. Respect him as if he was your parent.'
Violette also recognized him, as she had seen him in this appearance once before. But she was too stunned to react.
When she read the message, she felt a bit of melancholy rise in her. But she said nothing.
Phoenix, though, wasn't so silent.
"Sir Aberon. It is a pleasure to meet a mage of your level. Our party leader is less of a tactician than I am. Would it bother you if I was to discuss the planning with you instead of him?"
The young Aberon looked at her with a keen look, before turning his gaze to Astaroth. Astaroth nodded his head in approval.
"If your team leader doesn't mind you stepping over him, then I couldn't care less who I talk this over with. But this will less be a discussion than me giving you your assignment for the next day of battle."
Phoenix nodded her head.
"Very well. Then let us be done quickly. I have other duties to attend to, and you have already made me wait."
The other players huddled closer to the table and the map on its surface.
The casters felt a wave of mana pass through them, which equated to a feeling of being stared at by the non-casters, who weren't proficient with mana. Aberon had scanned all of them in a flash.
"I see you are mostly casters. Not good. Our platoon is assigned to the left flank's front line. I hope all of you can handle yourselves in a massive battle. Because no one will be covering us once the battle starts."
The casters in the party nodded their head solemnly. They weren't sure how big of a battle this would become, but they had a bit of experience in all-out brawls.
Aberon proceeded to tell them their orders for the upcoming battle, which entailed only fighting, never running away, and taking out as many demons as they could without dying.
Once he was finished telling them the plan, if that could be called one, he ended on a more positive note.
"I know you are all Abnormals, and that you can revive. But this is a onetime deal battle. Once you die, our world will expel you back to yours. So try to survive as much as you can."
Everyone nodded their head.
"Alright. Dismissed."
As the party spun on their heels, ready to leave, Aberon's voice echoed one last time in the tent.
"Actually, you, Astaroth, and you, little girl, stay for a moment."
Astaroth's eyebrow rose, but he spun back, facing Aberon. Once all the rest of the party had left the tent, waiting on the outside, Aberon waved his hand.
As he did, a bubble of dense mana conjured on the inside of the tent, blocking out all the sounds coming from the camp, as well as obscuring them from the outside. Astaroth recognized this spell, as Aberon had used it in the Ash Elf palace long ago, to talk to him in private.
"I have a few words I want to discuss with the two of you, away from prying eyes and ears. It's about our common trait."
Astaroth quickly understood what Aberon meant.
"Is there a problem with us being Ash Elves?" he asked.
"Hah! A problem is putting it lightly. Listen, Astaroth. You say you have heard of my prowess as a mage."
"I have. You are a legend amongst the Ash Elves, sir," he lied again.
"Can it, you phony. If that were true, I wouldn't be in this war. But I am indeed a very powerful mage. Why do you think I am just a platoon leader?"
Astaroth frowned while Violette maintained silence. Seeing they couldn't find the answer on their own, Aberon sighed.
"It's because this battlefield is led by an Elf. Amongst the soldiers, there is no tension between our two races. But in the higher ranks, the Elves dominate us still. Be careful when addressing the Elven officers. They are looking for excuses to put us in chains."
Astaroth gulped at the implication.
'So it has already begun…' he contemplated, internally.
"Anyway, that's all I wanted to say to you. Be careful."
And with a wave of his hand, the bubble vanished. He shooed away the two players, returning to his map.
As the two of them exited the tent, Phoenix stood from a nearby crate.
"What now?" she asked.
"Now? We wait," Astaroth responded.
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