The camp stopped. They decided to set up a small rest stop in the ravine that nature had so kindly provided. First of all, this was an excellent place to hide from any shadows, at least they seemed less noticeable.
Secondly, people needed to rest, and some even needed to sleep, but doing so in an open area in a dangerous zone might not have been the best idea. Most people were silent, each thinking about the forest and how to survive such a place.
The fact that they were silent was good for safety reasons, so the strike team was glad about this; at least they weren't panicking, thank goodness. Asan quietly leaned against the cold ground and raised his face to the sky, or more accurately, to the leaves. Not considering the shadows or the fact that he was terribly dirty and smelly, being here was very pleasant indeed. The silence calmed his wounded mind, pushing away the creeping feelings of apathy and fatigue. Thoughts about protecting people or the welfare of the camp no longer troubled him, for silence was the medicine that Asan had longed for very much.
Looking at the leaves, he saw how they swayed with an imperceptible lightness, and the absence of bloody light allowed his eyes to rest. But even in such surroundings, trying with all his might not to think about anything and just lie down and let his battered and dirty body rest after a long journey, various thoughts still crept into his head.
And these were thoughts about his presence in the camp, about the people surrounding him, and about his own well-being. Though the silence was so sweet, it made him do the worst thing in such a world—think about life. Questions about why he was doing this, why he was trying so hard to survive when every day was worse than the last… They caused an unpleasant pain in his chest that Asan still did not know about, although he was very familiar with it.
Such feelings and thoughts visited his mind when he was in Janschwalde-Ost, in his own prison.
On the horizon of the young man's view appeared a familiar silhouette. It was Crane.
"Asan, you look like you're about to kick the bucket, are you okay?" said the large man, sitting down beside him on the cold ground.
Asan lazily shifted his gaze to his weapons companion and smiled bitterly.
"And you? Are you okay, Crane?" asked Asan in a tired, monotonous voice.
The burly man at first didn't understand and started examining his own body for any injuries, but soon shrugged his shoulders.
"My hands and feet are in place, I think I can live" he replied with a slight smile, perhaps trying to cheer up Asan, but the attempt was unsuccessful.
"You know I'm not talking about that" said Asan, slightly shifting his legs to get more comfortable.
Crane silently looked at him and only gloomily lowered his head, unable to find anything to say. Asan's question was partly foolish, since everyone already knew that the mood in the camp... In one word – shit. For a couple of minutes, both boys sat and looked up at the sky covered by the leaves of large trees, until finally Crane broke the silence again.
"Alice and Paul went ahead on a reconnaissance mission while we rest. Once they return, we'll likely continue our journey, so don't relax too much" the hulk said, getting to his feet and walking away along the ditch towards the other people.
Taking advantage of the brief moment, Asan opened the system panel and entered the icon for abilities. Right now, he had two points in darkness magic and two in spatial magic. The boy wondered if there was any other way he could use spatial magic besides creating an inventory?
A short saber found among the ruins of a destroyed fort suddenly appeared in his hands. The blade looked to be in good condition and quite sharp. When they first got this weapon, Nelson advised each of them to constantly keep an eye on it, as it was crucial for both the strike team and the camp's overall safety. Asan took this advice seriously, so before battles he often checked the edge and tried to find any signs of cracks to avoid ending up in a very unpleasant situation where his sword might break during an attack.
Right now, he had one free skill point that he could confidently use to level up this spatial magic, or open up two new types for himself.
In his view, it would be quite good to acquire a higher combat ability right now, which would help him finish battles faster or at least assist him in them. Time was still uncertain, so he immediately chose the square labeled Gravity, and after a second, he felt something new within himself.
Now he was proud owner of three powers—darkness, space, and gravity. In theory, he could already be considered an ultra-powerful hero in some game, but in practice, things were somewhat different. Glancing at the sword in his right hand, he directed mana into his palm, mentally calling upon the power of his new magic, and behold, the hilt of the blade actually rose a couple of centimeters into the air. Of course, there was also a huge downside to this, which made the boy grimace. Mana.
The mana cost to lift his weapon was enormous; if he held it for a minute, he would likely spend at least 50%, or even up to 60%, of his total amount.
But the guy already had a couple of ideas about how to use this power in battle, and perhaps soon he would confirm his thoughts. For now, he deactivated his ability and continued examining the blade. As usual, characteristics he left that for later; there was no need to level anything up right now, although he might increase his mana capacity since it was becoming quite scarce.
This way, he sat on the cold ground for almost an hour until finally the camp stirred, as the scouts returned. Asan expected to hear Alice's tired sighs and her grumbling complaints, but could only hear Paul's voice. With a trembling heart, the guy got up from the ground and stretched.
Lying on the cold ground was not the best idea; his already tired legs had completely stiffened, and he had to limp out of the trench towards the gathered members of the strike team, along with the Geographer and Nelson.
But even as he approached, Asan felt a slight jolt in his chest, and Alice was nowhere to be seen. His anxiety was further heightened by how Paul looked—his hair was disheveled, and his face was completely pale. The boy was clearly nervous, his eyes darting around as people asked him questions. Getting close enough, Asan finally heard what they were talking about. This caused a very stern expression to appear on his face.
"Was it just shadows? Why were you so scared?" Crane asked firmly, his face reflecting a cold expression of anger. Asan had never seen him look so angry before.
Paul could only plaintively look towards Crane with a lowered gaze and quietly begin speaking.
"They were about ten, b-but... These weren't ordinary shadows we've encountered before! No, this time they were armed and fought no worse than Alice!"
"What's going on here, where is Alice?" Finally, Asan spoke up, approaching the people.
When Paul saw him, for some reason the boy, as Asan noticed, became even more nervous, starting to wipe his palms and shifting his feet from one leg to the other. Sweat streamed down his pale face, glistening in the dim light filtering through the leaves of tall trees above. Asan noticed a couple of scratches on his face, as well as his tattered clothes, which were also covered in dirt.
Laszlo was the first to respond to Asan, not even bothering to look him in the face.
"Unknown. Paul says that they split up after they were suddenly attacked by shadows" rasped Laszlo, looking at Paul.
Asan paled. How... How could they have split up? This is insane, right? Who in their right mind would split up when being attacked? So if Paul is here, it means the shadows didn't touch him but went after Alice? Then why hasn't anyone gone to help her yet? She can definitely hold out for some time fighting those creatures, so why the hell are they all just standing around?!
"Why are we standing here, why aren't we going to save her?!" Asan raised his voice, realizing that he was... Worrying about someone?
This realization made him slightly hesitate at his own words and tone, but he quickly dismissed these unnecessary thoughts. The most important thing now was to save Alice, who was probably fighting off a dozen dangerous shadows.
No one was willing to answer Asan's question, which made him angry. Now he understood why Crane looked so furious, because this question was probably also of interest to him. Moreover, he and Alice had known each other before the system and were good friends; at least they both talked about it by the campfire and during heartfelt get-togethers.
"We can't leave the camp unprotected if we send out an assault team now; then the shadows could attack us at any moment and finish us off. As painful as it is to admit, Alice is most likely already done for..." Finally, Geographer said, and Asan's anger and pain in his chest grew even more intense at these words.
The boy immediately thought of hundreds of ways they could have split up, how things had come to this... And why the shadows had chased after Alice instead of Paul.
He had previously wriggled out of various scrapes, literally surviving off the deaths of other people, during battles he did not join in but commanded, rarely showing his own weapon. It was then that something clicked in Asan's head, as if the veil that lay over his eyes slightly lifted.
"Paul, where were you during the attack on the fort?" Asan suddenly asked everyone. But unlike the surprised looks of the others, only two emotions reflected in Paul's gaze.
Panic and fear.