The town greeted Asan and the assault group with its usual grayness, now accustomed to the red sky. The sight of human skeletons on the streets caught everyone's attention right away; some of them had already been crushed. Most of the houses looked destroyed, and the roads were littered with car debris. Another spectacle that had become routine for each member of the group, but even so, a slight shiver still ran down Asan's spine.
Everyone was silent because there was nothing to say. The group knew their goal and mission, so they all directed their gaze at the high hill, behind whose roof one of the ruined houses hid a tall, stone tower. Even from afar, it looked quite remarkable and menacing, causing something in Asan's chest to tremble.
"Come on, what are you standing there like statues for? Move towards it. If we encounter Ronnie or other scum along the way, it's best to avoid a fight, because who knows how many more of these bastards are in the city" barked Paul, noticing how two people in the group were staring open-mouthed at the distant tower.
Asan slightly frowned and clicked his tongue, while Laszlo, who was the second person looking at the tower, merely sighed gloomily, and everyone moved forward.
Ahead, as usual, went Asan with Alice, who were looking at every destroyed building around them, not forgetting to peek into the narrow alleys that were covered with debris. Asan even sneezed involuntarily, feeling the dust that had settled in the area. Soon, the group noticed the first flock of Ronnie, but surprisingly, it was not that large. There were only about 12 individuals, which was no obstacle for three level-three people and one level-two. It would have been much more dangerous if they had encountered such a number of those oversized cats.
"What do we do, boss?" Crane asked lazily as he walked through the city, bored. He didn't hide the fact that he enjoyed these battles. A week ago, by the campfire, he had said that he felt pleasure during battles and even greater joy from victory.
A complete masochist, who actually enjoys fighting on the brink of life and death? Oh right, Asan is just as much of a Idiot.
"Whatever, we're leaving them. I said battles aren't beneficial for us, what if something weird shows up at the fort, and these guys might call their friends, I'm not ready for that" Paul quickly said and pointed the group towards another road.
"This road should lead us straight to the fort, so let's go there" Paul nodded his head symbolically and changed the direction of the group.
As it turned out, this was true. Walking along the web of destroyed asphalt, Asan could already see the walls of the fort nearby and notice the same large tower. He didn't see any windows or anything similar on it, although upon closer inspection, he did see a square cutout at the top of the tower, which was directed right at them. The cutout was dark, making it hard to see inside. Maybe no one was there, but for some reason, Asan had a bad feeling about the whole fort.
In fact, he wasn't as big as the guy thought. The fort's walls on the hill stretched for about 200-300 meters, and they didn't seem so tall if viewed at the right angle. But damn it, even so, the fort looked pretty impressive. Asan was seeing medieval architecture for the first time, and it amazed him with its ingenuity. Though he wasn't well-versed in history, he knew that people used to fight mainly with swords, axes, crossbows, and other outdated crap. Perhaps back then, such forts were indeed something like impregnable strongholds that were hard to approach.
Step by step, the group approached the massive gates, which were about three meters high.
"Hey, who the fuck are you?!" A sharp cry came from somewhere above.
Asan and the others from the assault group suddenly became alert, preparing their weapons for battle, and shifted their gaze upwards. There, on the wall next to the gates, they saw a man dressed in strange clothing. Asan froze. Not out of fear, but out of surprise. This was the first person outside their camp that they had seen. But unlike the assault group, the man did not seem particularly surprised, rather he looked irritated.
"I'm asking you one more time, who the hell are you?!" the man swore, his face showing slight nervousness, though otherwise Asan noticed that he seemed quite relaxed.
"We are a group of people traveling and looking for a place to rest. May I ask who you are and what you are doing here?" Paul stepped forward, clearly somewhat nervous, as this situation was new to him.
But despite this, his voice did not falter at all, but rather sounded firm and resolute.
"None of your business, kid! What are you guys up to here? We were the first to capture the fort, so turn around and go back where you came from!" The man on the wall was practically spitting. During his tirade, Asan managed to notice his clothing. It was brown and resembled leather, just like in old-fashioned games.
"We do not claim your fort! May I speak with your leader?" Paul tried to be more diplomatic, though Asan could see a vein bulging on his temple from anger.
"What a nasty guy, huh?" Laszlo whispered, glancing at the man on the wall.
Asan remained silent but nodded. He did not like him either, although there was no reason to blame him. He had simply told them in a straightforward, albeit crude manner, that they did not belong there.
They have the right to say such things since the fort belongs to them after all. Asan's ears were able to catch the voices of people inside the fort walls, and judging by the number of voices, there were many of them.
"Hey, Stilet, what's got you screaming like a girl on your first night, huh?! What's going on with you?" Another firm voice was heard from the wall.
Its owner soon appeared himself, and then Asan was already quite surprised. Not because of his face, which bore a large scar, or because he was a hulk-like figure similar to Kreyn, but because of what he was wearing. A military uniform, a real one. Not the one that Crane bought for his band's style, but a genuine military uniform, with the flag of the European Union emblazoned on the shoulder.
"Huh? And who are you guys? More survivors from the city?"
"No, they're newcomers."
They say they want to get into our fort and take a week off here, what do they think, everything's taken up here! Taken up! There are already so many people here, there's no place for you –", the unpleasant man, called Stiletto, started saying, but then he and the others from the assault group saw that someone had just given him a backhand slap.
"Stiletto, shithead, you're an idiot! Did you forget Lorchan's order?! He said to let everyone in, whoever it is, so why are you here talking nonsense?"
The angry soldier turned to the group below: "And you can go in, this Idiot will open the gates for you now, don't get mad, the guy is normal, just a bit short on brains."
Stiletto looked extremely angry—his face was red like a tomato, and in the bloody light of the sky, his face was hard to distinguish from a vegetable. Muttering something to himself, the man carried out the order, and the gates began to slowly open.
"Thank you!" said Paul and looked at his group.
Asan looked as usual, showing no emotions, but the corner of his mouth couldn't hide a slight smile caused by the situation on the wall. Unlike him, Laszlo and Alice didn't hide their smiles and were pleased that the miser had gotten what was coming to him. Crane, however, yawned and seemed completely uninterested, while Bridgite appeared slightly nervous.
Sighing, Paul waved his hand and everyone entered inside the fort.
Immediately before the group's eyes opened up a completely new, mind-blowing scene. People, very many people. Asan, with wide eyes, quickly scanned the interior of the fort. People sat on the ground in small circles around pots, talking about something. Some were preparing food, others were entertaining themselves playing board games.
Among the people, he noticed children, elders, teenagers his age, and in general, many different and diverse individuals. The contrast between Geographer's camp and this fort was simply colossal. Although he didn't see many smiles, it was still better than what they had.
One thing was certain—the number of people in the fort was enormous. Asan immediately became curious about where they got so much food and water for such a large number of people.
"Hello! Sorry for our not-so-great introduction on our side, my name is Kirill, I'm something like the deputy of our fort's leader"—he heard the familiar voice of the scarred man from the wall Asan.
The man approached Paul and extended his hand, to which Paul responded in kind.
"I am Paul. We are the strike force of our nomadic camp located nearby. Mr. Kirill, may I speak with your leader regarding our stay here?"
"We would like to stay for a week, rest, and replenish supplies in the city" said Paul, tightly gripping the military man's hand before letting go soon after.
"Uh... Yes? Of course. It's in the tower, you can go there, but it's preferable that not everyone goes. There's barely enough space in the tower as it is, so you won't all fit. I think... three people should be able to get through."
Paul nodded and looked at the strike team. The chosen candidates were Alice and Asan, the shortest and thinnest members of the group. Even Asan felt a bit embarrassed about standing out, but his body had already grown slightly thanks to his stats—there were even beginnings of abs on his stomach.
The group of three immediately set off with Kirill towards the tower. As they passed among the people, Asan's eyes caught sight of a separate building with a rusted, blue dome.
This building reminded him of something...
"This is our church, where people pray to God every day so that He may help them survive the next day. In our time, faith is the only thing that helps maintain some stability in the camp, so that no one here cuts each other's throats" Kirill said heavily, noticing Asan's gaze.
The young man nodded understandingly. Faith had always been either a restraining or an opposing factor in human history. Moreover, the mark on his shoulder was divine; perhaps he was also connected to some god in heaven? It was interesting; were they in space?
Lost in thought, Asan entered the tower with the others, and soon they began climbing the old stairs. Finally, they reached the top and entered through the slightly open door, where a sturdy man seated at a desk was dressed in the same military uniform.
"This is our leader.
Captain Nelson, this is the strike team from the nomadic camp, they want to talk to you" Kirill said and soon left the narrow room.
Asan was surprised by how menacing the soldiers looked.