The battle was over. I found a barely alive Horned One, whom the duo of the Reaper and Serdolik hadn't managed to finish off, and absorbed his blood.
They turned out to be Sarcas mercenaries. In this world, they are often simply called demons.
«Ha, demons. How amusing», I said, recalling the various monsters that had emerged from the «rifts» in the previous world.
But these Sarcas were a formidable force in this world. Their entire lives were forged in the crucible of war; their homeland was torn apart by constant conflicts — both among themselves and with external enemies who continually tried to enslave their country.
They just had the misfortune of running into me. I, more than anyone else, understand how monstrous my skills are to ordinary people, even to such altered humans. After all, technically, I am immortal to them.
I have adapted so thoroughly to constant conflicts that I can fight even under the blazing sun, using the small patches of shadow I can find. Almost none of my kin are capable of this. I'm not joking when I say that when sunlight hits a vampire, it engulfs them in animal fear — a fear they can only suppress by sheer miracle. Over all this time, I've encountered four such vampires. And every fight with them was absolutely monstrous.
We destroyed entire mountain ranges, small settlements, and cities. Such battles sometimes lasted for weeks — a week of unrelenting carnage, where every mistake could mean death. Add to that the constant influx of other vampires and human warriors, and you get a full-fledged mini‑war.
Emerging from my memories, I asked Serdolik to gather the bodies into a single pile, while I went to look for the owner of the blade.
At the sight of me, the «volunteer workers» huddled together, awaiting my verdict. My questions clearly startled them, but I couldn't get a clear answer. Scratching my head, I began to scrutinize the sword's hilt even more closely.
After a minute of intense examination — during which the crowd of half‑dead workers barely dare to breathe — I finally saw what I was looking for.
There, in one of the cracks, was a dried drop of blood. It was so tiny that I had to exert all my focus to spot it.
The chance that this blood belonged to the sword's owner was 50/50, but I had no other options anyway. Breaking open the hilt, I exposed the patch with the dried blood, then ran my tongue over the droplet.
«Hm, definitely female», I said with one eye closed, startling the women in the crowd. When I opened my eye, a blood mist formed before me — small, nearly invisible even to my gaze. The veins around my single eye bulged; if I lost focus, I'd lose this faint trace.
«Wait here, I'll be back soon. You can't escape me anyway», I told the terrified workers without even looking at them.
And I set off along the blood trail. As I moved away, I heard a voice from the crowd:
«He's heading toward the 'dump'».
I paid no attention, too focused on the trace. But soon the blood mist grew clearer, and when I reached a small cliff that the mist was pointing to, I stopped at its edge…
«Just as I told you, Serdolik. It was completely pointless», I murmured into the void, staring at dozens of human corpses simply dumped into the ravine.
Sighing, I climbed down and, after a couple of minutes, found the body I was looking for and pulled it out.
Once I had the body, I ripped the cloak from my back and wrapped the mutilated form in it. The sight was horrific.
But the worst part of it all was that this somehow felt expected.
I knew in advance what I would find. Human cruelty is an immutable fact — something I never had the slightest doubt about — and therefore I saw no point in wasting time.
But Serdolik — an ordinary‑looking blob of slime at first glance — had hoped for a different outcome. Why? Where did this slime get so much humanity? Oh, she wasn't naive. Though she couldn't speak, I understood her. Serdolik didn't truly believe in a positive outcome either, yet she still asked me to do this.
I still don't understand why, but I agreed. Such a small request was well within my capabilities.
Approaching Serdolik, who had already gathered the bodies of the fallen, I noticed how she seemed to deflate slightly as she hopped toward me.
«You're in charge here. I'll bury this body next to that child».
I was enveloped by Storm Magic, and I set off toward the grave. To the eyes of those I had saved, I simply vanished.
Although I had spent three days searching for this place, I could still reach the grave in just a couple of hours. When you know the location, the journey can be drastically shortened.
After laying the body down beside the other, I began my grim work.
«Damn. Should've brought a shovel from the mine», I muttered discontentedly, once again using my blade as a makeshift shovel.
I decided not to take back my cloak. I buried her in it, then placed the knife blade — the very one that had started all this — on top.
After finishing the task, I nodded and headed back to the mine.
To my surprise, they hadn't tried to escape. They were still huddled together, motionless. At first, I thought terror had frozen them, but then I realized the truth: they were simply exhausted to the point of being one foot in the grave.
«Yeah, tough situation», I said simply after learning their story.
They had been ordinary farmers on this land until the mercenaries captured them and forced them to work in the Origin Mine. That's why every person here was infected with Originosis.
I already knew what Originosis was — thanks to the mercenary's blood — and thus I already knew their fate.
Slaves.
Technically, they weren't called that, but given how the infected were treated, they weren't far from actual slaves.
Then Serdolik began hopping beside me. I watched her with curiosity. When I realized what she wanted from me, I burst out laughing — which made her try to stab me with her spike. I ignored her and kept laughing, making the infected grow nervous.
When I finally stopped, I fixed them with a disturbing grin.
«How lucky you are. I'm no hero, so I won't even abandon you after saving you — all because of my Serdolik's request», I said, then burst into laughter again. This made Serdolik pulse oddly and the infected exchange uneasy glances.
But the real reason was different. I suddenly recalled an old conversation between me and my mother. She had been a kind woman, but for some reason, she deeply disliked heroes and didn't share my father's views on them.
«Heroes love grandeur. Thousands! The fate of the world! Magnificent deeds accompanied by fanfares and applause!
But tell me — what happens afterward? What about those they've already "saved"? About those unfortunate ones whose homes have become rubble, and whose hearts are hollowed out by the loss of their loved ones?
He'll walk right past them. Lightly and proudly. After all, he's already performed a feat — snatched them from death's clutches. And what comes next… Well, that's no longer his concern.
And that's why I despise them. For the ease with which they abandon those they've saved halfway through.
But those who stay behind… Oh, those I truly admire. Those who don't run after new glory, but sit down beside a person who's just returned from hell.
Because pulling a body from the fire is only half the job. The real salvation lies ahead.
You need to be there when nightmares come in the dark, and the person jolts awake in a cold sweat.
You need to patiently listen to incoherent stories of what happened, over and over again, until the pain begins to fade.
You need to notice the first faint glimmer of life returning to dulled eyes.
You need to hold their hand when it feels like there's no strength left, and the future is just a black abyss.
This isn't heroism. There are no grand speeches here, no shining armor.
This is simply humanity. Quiet, persistent, invisible to the crowd.
And when fate presents you with a choice — don't follow the hero's path. Stay. Be the one who helps a person not just survive, but become themselves again. Because that — that is true courage.»
....
Hi everyone, I've decided to clarify some things here. Before Nomat entered the world of "V Rising", he lived an ordinary life without war.
He was not an ORDINARY person, but he never knew about it. Therefore, the pretentious words of his parents have a deep meaning for Nomat. They weren't just said to impress him, they were preparing him.
So why has he lost his humanity so much that he has to remember the instructions of his parents? Why did they tell him that? Did they know what was going to happen?
I will answer these questions as the story progresses. I probably should warn you that this is not only a crossover between "Arknights" and "V Rising", there will also be a third "Fate" fandom, but there won't be much from it, so don't worry that Nomat will suddenly spin the gacha and knock out hundreds of heroic spirits, purely for fun.
I'll change the job description to add this fendom moment.