Chapter 10: First impression
Stefan’s POV
[TIME LIMIT: 14:45:00]
[SIDE MISSION: 09:45:00]
"I shouldn’t sit around like this when a war is going on outside, right?" I said, facing the screen that was shinning at one corner.
Of course, I didn’t expect any response. I just needed to say it out.
I pulled the slave clothes back on, my fingers fumbling a little with the rough fabric, and crept toward the tent flap to peer outside.
Warriors had already gathered in the open ground, their weapons drawn, formation tight, bodies arranged like they’d rehearsed this exact moment a hundred times before. There was no panic in them. No hesitation. Just cold readiness.
The men, on the other hand, the slaves, were doing the exact opposite. Scrambling, tripping over each other to get back into the slave’s tent, their heads down, bodies folded small like they could disappear into the dirt if they tried hard enough. One of them dropped a water pot in his panic and didn’t even slow down to pick it up.
I shook my head, watching them run. "Cowards," I muttered under my breath.
For the first time since I’d landed here, I actually understood why these women treated the men the way they did. If this was the standard everyone else had set, I’d want to keep my boot on their necks too. No wonder nobody respected them. They didn’t even try to respect themselves.
Then the other side arrived, and I forgot all about judging anyone.
A second group of beasts came pouring out of the treeline, half-shifted, fur and claws and bared teeth, weapons raised high, howling something that sounded like a war cry in whatever growling language this world spoke. The two sides crashed together in the clearing with a sound like thunder breaking apart, metal on metal, claws raking across hide, bodies slamming into the dirt hard enough that I felt the impact through my own feet from inside the tent.
I should’ve looked away but I couldn’t. It was horrifying and somehow mesmerizing at the same time, watching women built like nightmares tear into each other with zero hesitation, zero mercy, like violence was just another language they all spoke fluently.
It wasn’t even close, in the end. Jonquil’s side outnumbered the attackers easily, maybe two to one, and within minutes the clearing had gone from screaming chaos to grim cleanup; bodies scattered across the dirt, most of them not moving anymore. And the warriors were already organizing themselves into lines to start dragging the dead into a pile for burning.
I exhaled slowly, some tension I hadn’t even noticed carrying finally easing out of my shoulders. At least I was apparently parked in the strongest camp on this entire planet. Small comfort, considering everything else going wrong in my life, but I’d take it.
"Small comfort but worthy..." I gulped.
That was when I spotted her.
The General, moving slow toward her tent, one hand pressed against her side.
"She’s injured?" My brows furrowed as I squeezed them to concentrate on the woman. The injury wasn’t bad, from what I could tell at this distance, a graze maybe, blood streaking down toward her hip in a thin dark line, but enough that she was walking instead of striding, which for a woman built like that probably counted as practically crawling.
And just beside her tent, half-hidden in the shadow of the canvas, one of the enemy beasts lay dead and forgotten in the dirt, overlooked in the chaos of the larger cleanup happening across the clearing.
The mission notification was still sitting open in the corner of my vision, patient, waiting, like it already knew exactly what I was about to do.
My conman instincts didn’t need a second invitation. They never had, even back on Earth, even when the smart move would’ve been to stay still and let opportunity pass me by untouched.
"Here I come!" A smirk curved my lips.
I slipped out through Jonquil’s tent flap, moving low and fast despite the fear genuinely twisting hard in my gut.
Getting caught sneaking around armed, blood-soaked warriors mid-battle-aftermath seemed like a fantastic way to die twice in the same week.
"Fucking shit!" I cussed as my bare feet found every sharp stone on the ground between the tent and the body with every step.
I made it to the dead beast and crouched beside it fast, dipping two fingers into the dark blood still pooling beneath the corpse. It was thicker than I expected, almost syrupy, and the smell hit me a half second after the texture did.
I smeared the blood across my neck, down my forearm, anywhere visible, working fast, my hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline and the genuine horror of touching something freshly dead.
Then I grabbed the corpse by one limp, heavy arm and started dragging it, just enough to look like I’d been mid-action the second she arrived, like I’d just dispatched this thing myself instead of staging an elaborate lie over its body.
Her footsteps reached me before I’d even finished positioning myself properly.
I straightened up immediately and lifted my chin, doing my absolute best impression of a man who’d just risked his life for someone else’s safety instead of a man who’d just smeared dead-monster blood on himself for theater.
"I saw this one trying to hide near your tent," I said, voice steady, channeling the exact same tone I used to use convincing investors I was the safest bet in the room.
"So I ran over and took care of it before it could come after you."
I waited for it; the flicker of gratitude, the softened eyes. Maybe even a thank you, slave, you’ve proven yourself useful, something, anything I could build on.
She didn’t even look at me. Instead her eyes swept over the dead body, over the blood on my hands, and slid right past like none of it registered as worth her attention.
"Unnecessary!" she said in a terribly flat tone then she was already turning toward her tent like I hadn’t spoken at all.
My jaw actually dropped.
"Excuse me?"
I knew she heard that because I had practically yelled it but she kept walking, completely unbothered, like dismissing me cost her absolutely nothing.
Well, I wasn’t giving up that easy. I’d talked my way out of worse situations than this with a lot less leverage than I had right now - fake blood on my arms and a real mission riding on the outcome.
I stepped directly into her path, planting myself there before she could brush past me toward the tent entrance.
"Shouldn’t you at least be a little grateful?" I said, looking straight up at her, doing my best wounded-hero routine, letting just a touch of hurt creep into my voice for good measure.
Her head snapped toward me properly this time, and for the first time since I’d met her, she actually looked at me. Not through me, not past me, like I was furniture that happened to be blocking her path.
She looked at me. Great!
Anger flashed bright behind her eyes immediately. But underneath it, just for a second, something sharper cut through. Attention. Real attention, the kind I’d been chasing since the moment I first laid eyes on her mouth moving in Jonquil’s tent.
I’d take it. I’d take anything at this point.
"Since when does a slave look up at me?" She asked in a dangerously low voice.
"Since I’m not really a slave. Not where I’m from, at least." I replied firmly but somehow gently, holding her gaze even though every single survival instinct in my body screamed at me to look away immediately.
She studied me a second longer, something unreadable working behind that beautiful, furious expression of hers.
I decided to push my luck while I still had some left to spend.
"Your eyes," I said, softer now, letting just enough genuine admiration bleed into my voice that even I almost believed myself, "are way too beautiful for someone this angry."
She went completely still.
[SIDE MISSION COMPLETE.]
[REWARD: +50 BOND POINTS]
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: BEAST INSIGHT Lv.1]
[FUTURE HEROINE REGISTERED.]
**GENERAL**
Recruitment Progress: 0%
Status: Locked
Relationship Interface Available.
I smirked, equal parts relieved and genuinely proud of myself, already mentally filing this away as a win worth celebrating later.
Then she turned her head and what she did next wasn’t something anybody would expect in this situation.
"Warriors? Someone should throw this annoying slave in the punishment tent."
"Wait, what?" I hadn’t even completed that when a warrior materialized out of nowhere, grabbing my arm before I’d even fully registered what she’d just said.
So much for a memorable first impression!
