Outrage of the Ancients

The main chamber, or rather, the throne room, was thankfully mostly empty. Well, not completely, and the table we’d eaten at this morning had been turned into the center of all strategic planning, but it wasn’t overrun.

Karl der Große was there, discussing something with a man in a uniform I assumed to belong to the Technisches Hilfswerk. Ogier was there too, along with a few other people I didn’t recognize.

The emperor glanced up as I entered, likely alerted by the sound of the door.

“Everyone, this is Mr. Vogt, the mountain’s ambassador,” he introduced me, and I was forced to use [Innate Etiquette] to hide a grimace. I didn’t work for him, I worked for Dietrich.

Mistake, or political move trusting that I wouldn’t argue too much? Chances were, it was the latter simply because he wasn’t stupid. But I also couldn’t countermand that too strongly ... there needed to be a middle ground, right?

Though even as I considered that, the voice of the System informed me that that throwaway line had actually given me something.

[Trait Registered: Ambassadorial Authority (Carrolingians)]

It seemed like him acknowledging me as the ambassador of the organization created here was enough to gain the authority needed to act in that function. Interesting.

However, I still felt I needed to set the story straight.

“Hi, my name’s Tristan Vogt, I’m a vassal of Dietrich von Bern and currently represent the mountain to the other ancients.”

There, that should be fine, right?

“What did you achieve?” he asked.

“I visited the embassies of all three nations that boast their own ancients, as well as the Golem of Prague himself. I established a basis for future treaties with all of them except Ireland, I was able to talk to the Irish ancient Fionn Mac Cumail directly and we do have an informal treaty of mutual support if we need it. Though we’ll have to fight the second wave ourselves in all likelihood, we don’t have any way to reach each other in a reasonable amount of time. And both parties will likely have their own problems to deal with.

“But he’s a very reasonable person, very aware of how badly this could all lead, and willing to do whatever he needs to resolve it.”

“Thank you, ambassador.”

A polite dismissal if ever I saw one.

So I went searching for Dietrich, but couldn’t find him. And no one seemed to know where he was either.

If only [Ambassadorial Authority] let me use the scry-chat feature outside of having to prove my bona fides as an ambassador … but did it actually explicitly tell me I could only do it under those circumstances?

Checking [Will of the Sovereign] let me know that I wouldn’t be bothering him if I called now.

So I focussed, thought really hard about wanting to contact him, and even squeezed closed my eyes for a couple of seconds while focussing, until his dry voice jerked me out of my thoughts.

“Tristan, why am I seeing your head hanging in the air with your eyes closed?”

My eyes flew open in an instant, and I found myself face to face with Dietrich, displayed in a slightly rippling image in the air, around the size of a large dinner plate.

“A creative use of [Ambassador’s Authority],” I said. “I figured you’d want to know what happened, but I couldn’t find you. Is Mia there?”

Dietrich turned around and called “Your brother’s back.”

Mia replied something I didn’t quite catch.

“She says to leave the coffee on her bedside table,” Dietrich told me. “Now, what happened?”

I tried to answer but was forced to stifle a yawn instead.

“You should get some sleep after this,” he told me.

“That’s the plan,” I replied. “So, basically, I went to Prague …”

I told him what I’d told Charlemagne, though in slightly greater detail.

“Oh, and our host gave me his ambassadorial authority too, I hope that’s alright,” I told him. I fully expected him to be cool with it, but this was likely one of those things that was no big deal on its own while having the potential to blow sky-high if kept secret.

“While we’re allied, there’s no problem with you speaking for both of us,” Dietrich told me, then added an empathetic “Now, go to sleep.” as he saw me stifle another yawn.

“G’night,” I told him and cut the connection. Mia’s room was right next to mine, so it wasn’t far out of my way to drop by and put down her already lukewarm coffee in the requested spot. I’d have preferred a fresh one or something actually meant to be drunk cold, but then again, my sister was a bit of a freak when it came to anything with caffeine.

I’d been half-tempted to drink half the coffee myself just to stay awake a bit longer, but I knew caffeine was no substitute for proper sleep.

By the time I’d reached my own bed, I barely managed to get off my pants and transform my shirt and underwear into proper pajamas before collapsing into it. And then, I was asleep in a matter of seconds.

***

I’d actually forgotten to set an alarm last night but that wound up not mattering, I woke up early since I’d also gone to sleep early due to mental exhaustion. A brief check of my phone revealed that it was actually five in the morning. Cool. Not like a proper sleep schedule was important for one’s health, though any chance of getting that had likely already gone out of the window.

So I got up and started to head out, putting on yet another set of random, tossed-together, set of clothing and used [Modern Makeover] to make myself look presentable. A sturdy grey shirt and blue jeans looked good but not overly stuffy, and would allow me to fit in when everyone was working to fortify this place but also be fine at the strategy table.

I also incorporated the two coats of arms from [Ambassador’s Authority] into the outfit in the form of collar pins. When actually acting as an ambassador, I’d move them down on either side of where a tie would be.

In my mind, having both on the left side, one over the other, would have probably looked better, but that would likely cause no end of trouble as it would be seen as attempting to impose a hierarchy onto two rulers. As if that could ever go over well.

And finally, I strapped Nagelring to my side, though I’d banish both the sword and its sheath into my spatial storage the instant they got in the way.

The mountain was quiet as I walked through it. In the handful of minutes I’d spent in here while awake last night, it had been a bustling hive of activity. But right now, it was quiet as a grave.

I headed towards the main hall, hoping to find breakfast waiting there, or at the very least be able to reach the kitchen from there.

The vast hall was empty, with no breakfast in sight, though the table wasn’t looking like it’d see food anytime soon, as it was utterly covered in stuff that looked so important I was afraid to even breathe on it.

A pristine model of the mountain, clearly forged from magic, several highlighted points where turrets and firing slits had been added, countless bits of paper were attached to anything that needed further clarification, and a to-do list was found in front of Charlemagne’s seat.

I’d have left that alone, but I spotted my name underlined on it, and curiosity got the better of me.

“Tell Vogt where to find bomb components”, followed by a way description.

Apparently, he hadn’t been told I was making homemade “napalm”, an incendiary, not an explosive, but otherwise, it made sense. I memorized the description and went on my merry way in search of food.

I knew where the food had been brought in yesterday morning, but found myself unable to locate the door. Urgh, fuck. Maybe some cereal bars to tide me over? I knew I had some in the car. Also … I’d been at a freaking gas station last night. I should have stuffed [Diplomatic Pouch] to the brim with supplies.

Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, and all that. I sighed, headed towards the car. Not only did I need some food, but I also had to get the cans of gas I’d bought.

In the corridor, however, I ran into the castle’s elderly castellan, who was walking towards me with a cup of coffee in one hand and a croissant in the other.

“Good morning, Frau Kittel,” I greeted her.

“You’re up early, Mr. Vogt,” she remarked. “There’s some food in the mess hall if you want it. The buffet isn’t set up yet, though.”

“We have a mess hall?” I asked, maybe looking ever so slightly daft in the process.

“Why, yes, where’d you eat before?” she raised an eyebrow.

“At the map table ...” I sighed. “Can you tell me where the mess hall is?”

“Sure, I’ll take you,” she said and marched off at a pace I wouldn’t have expected from someone her age. I followed, of course.

“What are the plans for today?” I asked.

“Receive people, figure out where we need them, and set up a proper chain of command,” she said.

I grimaced, not bothering to hide it. We had regular civilians who’d shown up individually, civilian volunteers under the umbrella of the Technisches Hilfswerk, and I was pretty sure I’d seen at least one police officer from the Sondereinsatzkommando, complete with an assault rifle, last night. Not to mention that there were two monarchs in the mountain.

“Maybe if we plan beforehand, we can limit the number of conflicting orders,” I suggested.

“I think they’re already doing that,” Kittel told me. “But that’s still going to leave a big issue, if something big happens we need to coordinate a response to.”

“And at that point, we can’t rely on everyone just following the first semi-workable idea that’s voiced,” I replied. That worked just fine on group projects in school, with people arguing about what to do until someone came up with something good, and then jumping on that one good option. But in the middle of combat … I might not have been an expert on war, but even I knew that wouldn’t fly.

Kittel nodded. “That’s something for our ‘ancients’ to discuss.”

“Also, do we have a space to put the cars inside the fortress?” I asked. “We’ll need to store them, otherwise, they’re gonna get busted up when the second challenge hits.”

“No, but I’ll find something.”

“And what’s the status of the internet service in here?” I asked.

“They put in a few satellite dishes on the mountaintop and wired them down into the throne room and a few other spots. Also, they managed to make phones work, but technology is all Greek to me,” Kittel admitted. “But we can communicate with the outside world.”

“Great,” I grinned. That should do nicely.

As we’d talked, we’d turned into a hallway I hadn’t even known was there, found a flight of stairs, moved down a level, and found ourselves underneath the throne room. It was a school, barracks, or, perhaps, prison-style mess hall, long tables lines with benches one either side of them dominating the center of the room, while long stone slabs ran down the walls, with windows leading into the kitchen above them. Only a small part of said kitchens were in use, and an even smaller chunk of the buffet already held food, but that was enough to fill the room with wonderful smells.

I hurried over there, grabbed the available knife to slice off two slabs of fresh bread that was still steaming, then stepped over to the tub of butter and used the stone spoon there to ladle out large dollops of each. Immediately, the butter began to melt into the bread, glistening patches spreading over the steaming goodness that I couldn’t wait to tear into.

It was everything I could do to not immediately chow down, but I’d spotted some blackberry jam that just had to be a part of my breakfast. So I lumped on some of that before I realized that I should probably have found a plate first.

So I looked around, didn’t see any, shrugged, and went back to balancing my breakfast as I prepared it, then slapped both chunks of bread on top of each other.

That was when freshly cooked bacon and fried eggs were made available on the buffet. I still didn’t have a plate, though, so I just used the available tongs to stack a little of both on top of my bread to eat once it had cooled down and returned to Mrs. Kittel.

“So, what are you going to do today?” she asked me.

“Figure out where I’m needed,” I replied while carefully checking whether the bacon had cooled down enough to eat. “Receiving newcomers probably.”

Kittel laughed. “And here I was thinking you’d want to create the dirty tricks division.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m told your first thought after seeing boxes for the internet setup was turning the packing material into napalm,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s true,” I said. “But that’s not really what I do here.”

“Maybe you should,” Kittel said with a glint in her eye. “I’d appreciate help wrangling everyone, but a good scheme can be invaluable.”

“Gotcha,” I nodded. “If I come up with something else, I’ll drop everything to put it into production.”

“Good luck,” she said, suddenly glaring in the direction of the kitchens. “I think I have to go streamline some stuff, otherwise they’ll be eating each other in a couple of hours.”

“Good luck,” I echoed. “Have a nice day.”

And with that, I marched out with my stack of breakfast food, carefully balancing it on my left hand while poking at it with my right, trying to make sure it was cool enough to eat. Sure enough, as I walked out of the door, the first bit of crispy bacon was ready. Well, it had been ready the entire time, it was bacon, but I felt like running around with a lisp cause I’d burned my tongue was a bad idea, today of all days especially.

As I walked, I was downing my breakfast bit by bit, safe for a single lukewarm bit of bacon that I tossed in [Diplomatic Pouch]. I wouldn’t be able to leave it in there long enough to see whether or not it would rot, but I would be able to see if it cooled.

I soon reached my car, grabbed the cans of gas, tossed them in my [Diplomatic Pouch], and marched towards the location of the promised styrofoam.

Eventually, I reached a room attached to the armory, which I’d have called a chemistry lab in a modern building, though it was ridiculously primitive. And dirty. It had been cleaned, but it was a “mop and dustpan” sort of cleaning. Workable, but nowhere near what [Restoration of the Old] could do, so I used that, and then got to work.

It was a pretty basic process. Toss in styrofoam, watch it melt, then toss in some more, then once a can was stuffed to the brim with gunky napalm, I picked it up and stored the product. Just the product, leaving the can alone. And then, I could retrieve it into my palm … while my palm was facing downwards, causing it to fall like water from a spigot. Perfect for portioning it out or just plain pouring it onto someone beneath me.

Then, I marched towards the throne room to wait. A small part of me was tempted to wait on the throne itself, but every other part, the larger one, told me just how terrible that was. And if [Innate Etiquette] had been able to speak, it’d have screamed itself hoarse in the mere handful of seconds that idea had spent floating around my head before being discarded.

Instead, I sat at the planning table, waiting, thinking, until eventually, Dietrich and Karl walked in together from the direction of the emperor’s quarters.

“… While I command the defense of the gate,” Dietrich was saying. It sounded like Charlemagne was in overall command. Things were settled, and they’d done so out of the public eye. That should work.

“Good morning,” I greeted them. “I think the best plan for [Knowledge Transfer] would be what I know about the other ancients.”

“Good idea,” Karl said.

“But … uh, there is something I’d like to ask,” I carefully began. “The Skill evolved, is now called [Knowledge Trade], and I can now also be taught stuff when teaching. So, would it be possible for you to teach me something to make me a little less …”

I almost said “squishy” at that point, but that was unlikely to translate properly.

“… vulnerable.” I finished.

This just felt like was suddenly jacking up the price on a vital good that I had a monopoly on. It wasn’t, but the human brain was a weird organ.

“Of course,” Dietrich said. “I don’t know how well my swordsmanship will carry over, but you can have it.”

But Karl was more hesitant.

“I can do that, but I believe that my own personal combat skills wouldn’t be able to expand on my fellow monarch’s abilities. Perhaps, strategy and logistics would be more helpful?”

That was … true, wholly and entirely true, but I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. I’d built up this idea of instantly gaining super special invincible combat arts from both of them and the reality of the situation felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water onto me.

“Yeah, that’ll work,” I agreed. “Ready?”

They both nodded, and I activated [Knowledge Trade]. For a brief moment, it hung in limbo, my information packet being offered while they returned the favor. The swordsmanship of a man who’d cut a bloody swath through Europe’s monsters for almost a hundred years, and the logistics from the man who’d forged his army into an unstoppable force that had crushed all comers.

I accepted the trade, so did they … and then, the migraine hit. Was I just a wimp, or did my Skill hate me?

This time, it might be down to the fact that I was getting a double-load of information, and the first time I’d received information hadn’t exactly been voluntary, which could be why that had hurt too, but I hoped it would get better with time.

“Tristan, are you okay?” Dietrich asked, worried.

“Headache,” I grunted. “But it’s already getting better.”

My head was utterly swimming with ideas and knowledge. For starters, the map table was making a hell of a lot more sense now, every single notation was suddenly bursting with information I could fully read. Perfect. Though even with that knowledge, all I had was knowledge. Not skill. Not experience. Not wisdom. I’d probably still easily lose out to Charlemagne in any direct contest. But it was still indescribably awesome.

“Thank you,” I said after a few more seconds. “I think I’ll go inspect the defenses at the entrance.”

Dietrich just gave me a knowing grin, while Karl laughed softly.

With that, I headed off, while they began to discuss the knowledge they’d just gained. The words “genghis” and “khan” were dropped a lot.

But if I didn’t try out my sword skills, I’d burst.

Soon, I was outside, underneath the lip that had been added above the door to pour burning oil or, well, napalm from. It would also ensure that anything that attacked came from the front, where I could see it and pulverize it with [Polite Rebuke].

Nagelring flew from its sheath, flashing through the air in a picture-perfect cut, then returned to its sheath in a single smooth motion.

I drew it again, and executed a few more slashes before once more storing it.

Compared to what I’d been capable of when I’d woken up this morning, it was a difference between night and day. But I could also feel its limitations. Even if the term itself didn’t really fit, what I’d just gained was book learning, not raw experience. Knowledge, not reflexes and muscle memory.

Too bad. Though I’d have probably had to pour every single Skill Boost I’d ever earned into [Knowledge Transf-], er, [Knowledge Trade] to achieve that kind of bandwidth.

It looked like Mia would keep kicking my ass up and down the sparring mat.

But even with those caveats, I could still not put into words how awesome this was. My checks were hurting from how widely I was grinning, though.

After a quarter of an hour dueling imaginary enemies, I retrieved my bacon from [Diplomatic Pouch] and bit into it. Room temperature.

So, nothing perishable could go in there for an extended period of time, though an ice pack would probably lengthen how long I could keep stuff fresh.

I plopped down on a large rock and cleaned myself off with [Restoration of the Old].

My. Life. Was. Nuts. And the world was about to end. But honestly, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I mean, I could do without the monsters, without the danger, but somehow, I was happy.

So I just sat there and gazed out across the landscape. Rolling green hills, the occasional tree, and I could easily imagine the distinctive sound of the bells hung around the necks of alpine cows underpainting the image. There weren’t any cows here, of course, but that was just the kind of beautiful image that was before me. Though all I had to do was turn around to see the towering, fortified, gate behind me to be reminded of what this was about. How dangerous this world was.

The narrow path towards Germany’s road system was still more than a little ramshackle, meant for people, not cars, but I could already see how it had been expanded in several spots, widened, reinforced. I’d still let Mia drive the car down that, she was the better driver and with me behind the wheel, I’d likely run off a cliff in no time flat, but at least we had a proper connection to the outside world.

I got up and started exploring either side of the entrance, examining the plateau around the main gate. Could we mine this place? Maybe dig some trenches? It wouldn’t be enough to trip over individual invaders, but if we were about to be swarmed as I suspected, the sheer mass of enemies would result in some falling in and hopefully breaking bones in the process.

With new eyes, I looked over everything, trying to see the world as Charlemagne did. I did that for maybe an hour before I realized I’d largely just recreated the plan already in place.

Though that didn’t seem to have been a waste of time.

[Global Ambassador of Myth Lv. 15 -> Global Ambassador of Myth Lv. 16]

[Skill Boost gained]

Wait, that counted? As in, I could gain Levels based on using gained knowledge? Or had that just pushed me over the threshold to Level 16, with most of the XP having come from everything else?

As for the question of what to upgrade, that was obvious.

[Skill boosted: Diplomatic Pouch]

Pocket dimension parameters increased to 2m x 2m x 2m, up to three items can be designated for swift retrieval.

More space, and faster retrieval. Perfect.

Also, I should probably get some actual work done, so I headed back inside.

***

Mia

At first, the power to bind equipment hadn’t seemed too strong. Useful, but far inferior to the literal teleportation Tristan had gotten for his Capstone Skill. Maybe the self-repair function would have been more useful if she’d bound a piece of armor instead, leaving her with a constantly regenerating defense, but that would have cost her the sheer utility of her sword always being only a single thought away.

And then, she’d figured out how to turn that very simple ability into a deadly trick, perfect for combat. But Dietrich had helped her come up with it, so she wouldn’t be able to see just how useful something that needed surprise was against him.

But Ogier had offered to spar against her, and she’d taken him up on it.

“Ready?” he asked, staring down at her. She’d known he was big, but somehow, the thirty-centimeter height advantage felt like it had become thirty meters the moment he’d stepped onto the proverbial mat. But she just didn’t care.

“Ready,” Mia grinned and unsheathed Balmung even as he whipped out Cortain. His sword was a hell of a lot shorter than hers, which should have given her an advantage, but he was also twice her weight, had longer arms, a shield, decades of experience, and, oh yeah, to the tune of thirty Levels on her. But he’d promised to hold back his raw strength, limiting himself to what he’d had in his first lifetime, though that would still be plenty overwhelming. And she’d be relying on a trick anyway.

Their swords clashed a few times, and Ogier deflected with ease every time. Until Mia stepped in close and brought down her sword in an overhead chop, causing her opponent to practically roll his eyes as he interposed Cortain. And Mia didn’t even blame him for finding the attack simple, because it was. As was the way to counter it … normally. Because there weren’t very many fancy tricks one could pull based on her attack… normally.

But Balmung flickered out of existence in the split second when it should have impacted, appearing in Mia’s previously empty left hand, only to return in her right a split-second later and thud against Ogier’s chest, the blue-ish glow of [Training Safeguard] preventing the very real and very sharp sword from carving into his sternum.

A victory against a legend of the ancient times. Someone who’d been fighting for longer than she’d been alive, and had enough physical strength to throw her around like a football even without his Skills. Oh, that felt good.

And the System seemed to find it impressive too.

[Skill Evolution: Blank Sword Art -> A Blade Across Time and Space]

[Class Evolution: Legend’s Apprentice Lv. 10 -> Legend’s Squire Lv. 11]

[Legend’s Squire Lv. 11 -> Legend’s Squire Lv. 13]

[Skill gained: Matchless Power]

[Skill gained: Combat Analysis]

[Skill Boost gained]

[Skill gained: Second Blank Sword Art]

So, an Evolution, a physical strength boost, something to help learn an enemy’s moves, and an option for creating a second Sword Art … once she figured out just how she’d managed to make the first one. Well, she knew what she’d done, but not which part of that had actually triggered the effect.

A Blade Across Time and Space (acquired Sword Art)

Extend your blade’s reach by a factor of 50, and/or exploit an opening up to five seconds after it was available, successful strike ignores all armor.

Ten-minute cooldown.

And what an effect it had been. All she had to do was see what the evolved Skill did when activated.

Mia grinned at Ogier, who was suddenly no longer looking cocky at all.

***

I’d entered the training hall just in time to see Ogier the freaking Dane be saved by Mia’s Skill.

… I was pretty sure I knew what had inspired that move. Star Wars. Or, more specifically, the avalanche of video essays on how people wielding lightsabers should switch them off briefly to bypass their opponent’s blade.

I mean, of the two of us, I was the nerd, which meant when she “encroached” on that, a little teasing was in order. Though first, I’d see what she’d just gained. Because based on that grin, it should have definitely been something incredible.

They stepped back to open up the distance again, setting things up so that they could approach for a bit before being in each other’s range. And then, Mia lunged.

Ogier parried and tried to hit her with his shield, forcing her to dodge, and then, she struck again, only for Balmung to bounce off the man’s shield.

They clashed repeatedly until I noticed something. While I couldn’t really put Dietrich’s knowledge into practice, it let me read others using that knowledge with casual ease.

… I was becoming the ultimate armchair general, wasn’t I?

For example, Mia had just missed a fairly big opening. Perhaps she’d thought it was a trap?

Either way, the chance had passed, and judging from the outside was always easier than making the correct choice in the moment. So I shouldn’t … wait, what the fuck just happened?

Balmung had just simply twisted, warped like a funhouse mirror, as though it were a video game item that had glitched out the graphics engine and was not displayed as being a thousand times longer than it should be and no longer straight. Or something like that. I really wasn’t sure what I’d seen, just that something had happened, and Mia’s safe training Skill had flared across Ogier’s throat, but before I could even begin to wrap my head around what I’d seen, they were already breaking apart, stepping back, and Balmung was back in Mia’s hand as though nothing had happened.

Okay, whatever that Skill was, it was badass.

“Congrats!” I yelled out, giving her a double thumbs-up when she turned around to me. Mia grinned.

“You wanna try?”

I laughed. “Pretty sure we both know you’ll wipe the floor with me without trying.”

She flashed me a mock pouty face before she returned her attention to the training.

While Mia was busy experimenting with her new Skill and potential, I was running around fixing random issues I came across, until I was back at the gates to see if there was a space to put the cars yet.

There, I found a note from the Castellan, ordering people to bring the cars inside along with a description of where to drive them.

So I did that and decided to go search for something else to do. Soon, I was once again outside, staring up into the sky. Could I open a portal above the ground to throw something through?

[Guide’s Shortcut] had come off cooldown when the System’s clock had officially ticked over to put us on day four, but the fact that the Skill required me to confirm that I wanted to use it meant I could experiment with the targeting.

So, I checked to see if I could open a portal right here, where I was, just, say, a hundred meters up?

The answer was a resounding no, but the edge of the highest portal I could open was brushing the top of my head. That seemed … specific.

I raised a hand and the portal height limit increased by half a meter. Then, I jumped, arm stretched straight up. That really proved it. “Having been there”, for the purposes of the Skill, referred to me having physically been in a spot the portal would be touching when it opened.

So I borrowed myself a ladder and climbed it in seemingly random spots several times before I returned it and found somewhere else to do busywork, though I’d gained the ability to remotely pour napalm onto any point outside the main doors.

I’d probably looked pretty silly in the process, however, and I wasn’t particularly sure how well the “Skill with weird activation requirements” argument worked to counter the narrative that I was an idiot.

Though fixing a broken-down truck and other stuff with a mere wave of my hand likely put me in the category of “eccentric genius” instead. Hopefully.

Throughout the day, I just kept doing whatever was needed, directed newcomers, fixed stuff, coordinated things when asked to by a monarch, and only briefly dropped by the throne room to use [Knowledge Trade]. Unfortunately, it did not seem like receiving the “trade” from two people at once got any better, but at least it wasn’t as bad as it had been with the Golem of Prague.

And as it turned out, what I’d learned this morning was just the start of what they knew, it’d likely take another half-dozen trades before I knew everything they did on just one topic.

It was kinda cool how quickly the mountain was transforming, and who was showing up. Military reservists with hunting rifles, police officers with their sidearms, regular citizens with less martial abilities to lend to the cause … it was only a fraction of a fraction of Germany’s population who came to help, but it was still amazing to see. We even got a few military liaisons so that we could coordinate.

Eventually, though, the day ended, and just like I’d done every day since the System’s emergence, I collapsed into bed and slept like the dead.

***

The fifth day of the System wound up being basically being a repeat of the fourth. People arrived, people did what they did, and then either settled down to wait for the next challenge, the next wave of monsters, or they got the hell out of Dodge. Night fell, morning came, and breakfast was eaten. The mess hall was silent, knives and forks scraping across metal plates, the sizzle of cooking from the kitchens.

Not even 500 people against a monster horde of unknown size and power. A terrifying prospect. And yet, we were here, ready to do whatever we had to.

However, eventually, inevitably, it was time to pack up, head to our positions, and prepare. Because the end was near.

Warning, the System has descended!

Over the course of the next year, the world will have to face seven challenges, the last of which will be the opening of this world to the enlightened universe.

The First Challenge, [The Beasts of Legend], has already begun and will ramp up over the next several days.

The Second Challenge, [The Breaking of Graves], will begin today.

Time remaining: 0:0:17:11

So. Bloody. Near.