by Pirateaba
“It’s a symbol, Ken. It means…it means do no harm. It’s one of the most powerful symbols from our world. Everyone should know what it means.”
Ken nodded slowly. The red cross. The symbol of hospitals, of an ambulance. Of…life. He understood Luan.
“But there are no more flags.”
“We have a white one.”
They’d brought the white flag from the Gravetender’s Fist company. As Luan had pointed out, they hadn’t received any pay, so this was the least of what they were owed. Ken nodded, thinking.
“But it is white. We’d need red paint.”
“Or blood…no, we’d need paint.”
Luan shook his head, and Ken shook his head as well. Blood was…wrong. And the bugs would probably be attracted to it.
“Where would we get paint?”
“I know where. But I do not know how we would buy it.”
Ken hunched his shoulders as Luan stared at him. The South African young man opened his mouth, frowned, and then felt at his pockets.
“If you need something to sell…what about this?”
He put something in Ken’s hand and warned him not to touch what was inside. Ken opened the tightly-wrapped ball of cloth and recoiled from the small, pointed orange tip of an arrow. Luan’s grin was twisted.
“That’s what Geneva pulled out of me. It’s still active. Magical. I bet you could put it on an arrow and shoot it. I hear they’re expensive. Know anyone who might buy it?”
Ken nodded slowly. He wrapped the arrowhead up and looked at Luan.
“I think I might.”
—-
War vendors were ostensibly [Merchants], but ones who had a huge escort, many items for sale, usually had at least half a dozen bags of holding, and made a living selling to companies that were fighting. They could provide anything from magical potions to weapons to information—all at a steep price.
Ken had seen Quallet negotiating with the sole war vendor in the area to buy food for his company. The neutral zone shared by all three undead suppression companies was adjacent to the war vendor’s zone, although a set of very well-equipped guards patrolled the border.
It was to this area that Ken made his way. It was frightening, not to mention dangerous, going through the valley, even with a white flag, but he’d done it. Alone, too. He’d insisted to Luan it was the best way. In truth, Ken was worried Luan might be hurt. Only one of them needed to risk their lives.
Now Ken approached the war vendor, flanked by two very tall Lizardmen with swords. He spotted the [Merchant] in question in a moment. He was familiar to Ken, although they’d never spoken.
The Naga with golden scales and resplendent jeweled clothing was sinuously twined around what looked like a circular couch, meant for someone just like him. It was more like a spiraling staircase upwards, in truth, with a spot for his more humanoid torso to rest while his snake-like lower body twined around the bottom. He uncurled and rose up, at least nine feet tall as Ken approached.
The Naga was male, although his genitals weren’t visible—Ken had no idea where they might be, as the Naga’s lower half was like a snake’s—and he smiled down at Ken.
“Ah. I have seen your face before, young Human male. Have you come to sell or buy? Or just to look some more?”
He remembered Ken, which was a good sign. Ken gulped and bowed as the guards stepped back from the Naga. He clearly wasn’t regarded as much of a threat, because the Naga waved them further back as he eyed Ken up and down.
It wasn’t rude to stare at Lizardfolk…and the Naga was apparently what Lizardfolk could become. Quexa hadn’t given Ken all the details, but Lizardfolk could change forms like…well, like Pocket Monsters, to be honest. What did Americans call it? Oh, right. Pokémon.
Ken stared at the Naga, giving him a slow look from top to tail in return. The Naga appreciatively wiggled his tail at the scrutiny.
“Ah, you know our customs. You are an interesting Human. What are you called?”
“I am Ken. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to meet with you. May I ask your name?”
Ken bowed his head, and the Naga smiled wider. He spread his arms, showing off bejeweled fingers.
“I’m Xalandrass, inquisitive little Human. But you may call me ‘Xal’, as I know Humans are not as adept at speaking as other races.”
Ken nodded, and took a breath.
“Honored Xalandrass—”
The Naga laughed in delight. Ken smiled a bit.
“Honored Xalandrass, may I ask if you buy items such as this?”
He took the balled up piece of cloth and unveiled the enchanted arrowhead. Xalandrass peered at it and then smiled knowingly at Ken.
“An Evercut arrow? Where did you get this?”
“A friend had it.”
“In him? Oh, I heard about that incident. A dangerous thing, when a company attacks the very people they have hired. But then, I share some of the blame. For I sold these arrows to the Roving Arrow company to begin with.”
A part of Ken’s chest tightened at that. Xal watched Ken’s face.
“Do you hold a grudge, little Ken?”
“I do not believe I should blame you, Xalandrass.”
“Ah, but the Honored Xalandrass is gone. Oh well. But to answer your question, yes, I would buy this back from you. It can certainly be reused, so I could offer you gold…but why do I think you have risked your life to come here for more than that?”
Ken nodded. He took a breath.
“I would like to barter with you, Honored Xalandrass. For paint. Do you have anything I could use to color with?”
The Naga had begun laughing again, but he stopped. He didn’t look surprised by Ken’s request, merely thoughtful. He tapped his lips with a long finger for a second before nodding.
“Paint? Curious. A Human child comes to me with an enchanted arrowhead, where another came with a device that made light. What does it mean?”
He was watching Ken. Ken kept his face politely blank. Xal smiled knowingly.
“Hm, hmm~. I think we have a deal, little one. Paint I can easily obtain—I have some with me. Dried packets that need only water. It’s a very handy tool for marking the ground with, and for marking armor. Dullahans love the stuff, so I have every color available. Which would you like?”
“Red, white, and black colors, please.”
“Only that? Anything else? I have many magical artifacts for sale. For the right price, of course.”
Xal flicked his fingers, Ken saw one of the wagons behind him move. Objects floated upwards and around Ken as the Naga gestured to each one, speaking softly, enticingly.
“Here’s one that will shield you from arrows…for a time. Or how about a shield that creates a burst of light when struck? Everyone but you will be blinded. Or what about a charm to amplify your voice? That’s a favorite among commanders like your Quallet Marshhand. My apologies, former commander, isn’t it? I’ve heard you’re with the famous Last Light. What’s she like?”
The question came out quick and fast, but Ken was ready for it. He bowed his head politely towards Xal.
“I am sorry, but I came here only to buy and sell. I cannot give information I do not have the right to.”
The Naga smiled, this time with regret.
“Ah, too clever. You came prepared, not at all like the other one. It is enjoyable talking to you, honorable Ken. A shame there is no profit in it. Very well. I will give you paint—and coin, since the paint is not worth an Evercut arrowhead. And you shall go speaking of how fair I am. And then, perhaps when the Last Light needs healing potions or needles, she will send you again, hm?”
Ken smiled politely.
“It is my deepest hope, Honored Xalandrass.”
The Naga laughed.
“Pretty liar.”
—-
The next day, Geneva stumbled out of her tent, a piece of dried jerky in her hands. She had woken to the sound of the wounded. She approached the line of wounded, and paus
ed as she realized something was off.
What was it? Geneva looked around, frowning, and then saw the signs.
Huge sheaves of bark had been peeled from trees, hammered onto slats of wood, and pounded into the ground. A white background with a red cross had been painted on each one, and the signs were ringing the camp, marking it.
But what was most striking was the sign that stood tallest of all. A sign that shook Geneva to her core.
The Red Cross Company.
It was simple, direct, and it spoke to her. She stared up at the sign as it proclaimed…what? That they were a company, a fighting force? One of the many groups in Baleros?
No. That they were something else. The Red Cross. Here. Geneva looked around, and saw Ken and Luan waving at her. They had paint all over their bodies and their hands were red from work.
She looked at them, and felt the urge to smile. It didn’t come out, but Geneva inclined her head. Then she got to work.
—-
An incident occurred as Ken and Luan were painting a final sign to put up. They heard a roar and dropped what they were doing to hurry over to a vantage spot to look at the battlefield. There they saw a group of Dullahans, carving through the Centaur’s forces.
Ken had seen the battle go back and forth day after day. There was never a clear winner; if one side started pushing too far, more reserves would come flooding onto the battlefield and force the enemy back. It was a war of attrition between both companies, or at least, it had been. Apparently, someone had decided to end things.
Six giants walked across the battlefield, each one at least twelve feet tall. They were Dullahans, only…not. To Ken, it was like seeing a miniature robot warrior, like Gundam, a giant of metal and motion. But they were Dullahans. They had all the features of a Dullahan, only their armor had been scaled up in a massive way.
But their heads were the same size. It would have been ludicrous, with the tiny helmeted heads of the Dullahan on top of the massive, armored bodies, were it not for the deadly way in which the Dullahans controlled these oversized armored titans.
They were quick. And strong. One of the Dullahans lifted a massive greatsword as tall as Ken and cut a Centaur apart in a single strike. He roared and charged into the line of Humans and Centaurs and Lizardfolk, and Ken saw blood and limbs and screaming as the five other Dullahans rampaged into the enemy lines with him.
“What is that?”
Luan was staring at the Dullahan giants, mesmerized. Ken had no answer, but Calectus came up behind the two and spoke.
“War Walkers.”
The two looked at him. Calectus nodded towards the Dullahan titans, quietly serious.
“They’re one of the most dangerous types of Dullahan warrior on the battlefield. Their class is an advancement of the [Juggernaut] class. If they’re coming out, it means the Razorshard Armor company is determined to win at any cost.”
“And that means what?”
Calectus paused.
“It means Geneva will have more work to do.”
—-
The Dullahan [Juggernauts] inflicted terrible damage onto the Centaurs. Terrible damage…in return for their lives. Ken watched, spellbound, as each of the War Walkers fell after taking down scores of their enemy with them. It was a simple casualty of their size. For all their strength and armor, enchanted weapons could harm them, and the Centaurs galloped around the Dullahans, shooting arrows at them, charging into them with lances…
It was a bloody cost. In the end, the last [Juggernaut] fell as the Centaurs pulled back, sorely devastated. The War Walkers were down…
But not dead.
One of them lived, at least, enough for a group of smaller Dullahan to retain hope. Ken saw them lifting one of their fallen giants up and approach the tent. He shouted for Geneva, who’d finished for the day. The [Juggernauts] left little wounded as they fought.
“We come for aid. Please. Help us.”
One of the Dullahans in the group approached as Geneva ran towards them. Ken stared at the massive form of the Dullahan War Walker, supported by twenty of his lesser brethren. He was a true giant, and far too large to stuff into Geneva’s operating tent.
He was also on the verge of death. Countless arrow holes filled his body, and his left shoulder was nearly severed from his body. He had lost so much blood it was painting his blue armor. Ken thought there was no way Geneva could save him.
But she didn’t hesitate.
“Aiko! Start removing armor! The rest of you—show me where he’s wounded! Get the armor off of him!”
She began ordering the Dullahans as they spread out around her. Geneva leapt onto the wounded [Juggernaut]’s shoulder and listened as one of the Dullahans explained. He’d been riddled with Evercut arrows, and they were cutting him apart from the inside. Geneva nodded. She knelt by the first wound, where armor had been hacked away, exposing only blood and guts.
“[Flash Hands]. [Flawless Cut].”
Her hands blurred. Ken saw the scalpel she was holding disappear in her left hand, and then Geneva was cutting deep, deep into the War Walker. Luan hurried over to Ken’s side and stopped as he saw Geneva working.
“My god.”
Geneva’s hands were a mirage of moving afterimages as she cut into the giant Dullahan’s flesh. Her left hand cut, her right hand moved flesh aside. She was tracing the path of the arrow, assessing the War Walker’s condition. He wasn’t going to survive long. Geneva paused, and placed a hand on his chest. She spoke.
“[Hemostatic Pause].”
The blood leaking from his wounds…stopped. Ken heard some of the Dullahans gasp, but Geneva was already speaking.
“I have six minutes and forty seconds. Aiko, I need healing potions and the dropper. The rest of you—point out to me where he was shot!”
She dove back into the Dullahan’s body. In moments, she’d pulled out the first Evercut arrowhead and flicked it onto the ground. Ken helped contain it. Geneva was working fast, faster than she had with Luan. The Dullahans were pointing out every wound, and she pulled eighteen more arrows out in minutes. Geneva paused as the last one came out and closed her eyes.
“[Detect Injury]…there’s one left. Somewhere in the upper right side of his chest.”
She found it. Then she came to the shoulder. Now the [Juggernaut] could be healed, the wounds in his chest were vanishing. But his shoulder was hanging on by a literal thread of flesh. The Dullahan who’d requested Geneva’s help looked grim, but resolute.
“His life is all that matters. If the arm must come off—”
“Not yet.”
Geneva looked towards Aiko. The Japanese girl had something in her hands that she’d been using to pour the precious liquid into the wounds. A dropper, medieval style. It didn’t have a rubber bulb, but it could be used to measure small amounts of the healing potion. Geneva beckoned for it, and then spoke out loud.
“The suturing will take time and full concentration. I need you to hold the arm—and keep it steady. I will reconnect each nerve and muscle and heal it when it is in place.”
“What?”
Luan stared. Ken stared. What Geneva was saying sounded impossible—but then she began.
“Muscle. Connects to…”
Ken saw her right hand move. Geneva stared at it, as if she hadn’t expected where it was going, but then she connected the red piece to the second piece, and dropped a minute bit of healing potion on it. The link formed.
“I’ll need to graft connections. You—open up his leg armor. I’ll need to make an incision—major artery is here…connects…here.”
The work took over an hour. Ken couldn’t watch half of it. But he saw Geneva reconstruct the giant Dullahan’s arm, piece by piece. And when it was done, when the flesh had healed and sealed over entirely, he had seen every part of the arm reconnected. Ken had no doubt that when the War Walker awoke, he would be able to move the arm.
“A healing potion couldn’t have done that. No way. The arm was severe
d—it can’t heal when that happens. But she put him together. Just like that.”
Luan was staring at Geneva. She’d practically collapsed after it was done, as had Aiko. They were resting, but the Dullahan soldiers were still there. The one who was probably their officer was looking around for someone to talk to, so Ken walked over.
“Thank you. We will report this to our superiors.”
The Dullahan bowed at the waist deeply, like a Japanese businessman meeting his company’s CEO. Ken bowed his head as well.
“I will convey your thanks to Geneva-san.”
The other Dullahans crowded around Ken, speaking the same words.
“Thank you.”
It wasn’t right that Ken was the one they spoke to, but it was as if they were transmitting their feeling to Geneva. Some clasped Ken’s hand, a gesture he’d never seen among Dullahans. Then they were marching the massive War Walker back towards their camp.
Calectus spoke when they were gone.
“Dullahans never bow that low.”
He was staring at the direction they’d gone. Ken nodded. The Dullahans had shown more emotion, more deference in that moment then he’d ever seen Xor give Quallet.
“That was extraordinary, wasn’t it?”
Calectus hesitated.
“It was impossible. A spell might have saved that Dullahan—but no potion, aside from the ones a Named Adventurer would use. But a single person did that. Geneva did. With her Skills.”
He turned, shaking his head.
“It might not have been a good thing to save him. But I could not stop her. She will level from this, I have no doubt. And yet…”
“What?”
Calectus turned to Ken.
“She saved a War Walker, someone deemed dead by his enemies. She changed the battlefield, preserved a part of the Razorshard Armor company’s strength. She is no longer a small asset, something that can be ignored. Now she is a powerful ally…or a dangerous enemy.”
He looked concerned. And he was right to be. The next day, one of the commanders of the Razorshard Armor company came in person.
—-