Chương 86: Greencloaks

As I stared at the blond Greencloak, Aelfwine's Birch slowly stopped trembling. The roots retreated back underground, leaving nothing but churned dirt and disturbed snow. I shook my head, then said, "Before either of us explain everything, we need a headcount. Did it get anyone that we weren't able to save?" Lute, Brick, and Romance all reported no losses. I'd already checked my own squad, ensuring that we were all present. After a short, relieved sigh, I turned back to the four Greencloaks.

Before I could say anything, one of them asked me, "What did you say your name was?"

"I'm Levi. D-D Three thirty-three, if it matters to you."

"Your identification numbers mean nothing to us," said the druid Greencloak, who had shifted back into his human form.

"He is an Atoning," the blond Greencloak said.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"Aside from the fact that your voice is slightly different, your manners are slightly off, and you called me sir," he began, "your own men mentioned it."

"You heard that?"

"Indeed." I gulped. How strong were these guys, if their hearing was that good?

"Tell me your story, Sergeant Levi," the blond Greencloak demanded.

"And do not lie. We will know by your sweat, and by the racing of your heart." I held out my hand defensively.

"Look, guys. We had no intention of pissing off the giant tree. In fact, we were doing our best to save it." The Greencloaks didn't look impressed. Fickle bastards. Not all of us were as powerful as them, and if they had come sooner, maybe we could've wiped out the orcs without having to hit the tree like that.

"And we did save it," I added, unwilling to relinquish that ground.

"Tell us what you did," said the blond Greencloak. So I did. In great detail—probably too much detail for what the Greencloaks wanted. I told them why we were here and how we'd crushed the orc army under the tree's snow and ice. Then, finally, I said, "Can we at least get your name?" I didn't want to be a Karen and start asking for his manager, but I also wanted to know who I was dealing with. And maybe, just maybe, if I got his name, he would be less willing to be angry at us.

"I am Askan," the blond Greencloak said.

"Just Askan?"

"I will not bore you with my titles." He shook his head.

"This tree hosts a Slumberer. And ancient and powerful nature spirit, and not easily woken."

"And we woke it, but the orcs didn't? That doesn't seem fair."

"If they had succeeded in chopping it, they would've. But by then, it would've been too late." He pointed to the tree, and something about the way his finger moved drew my attention. The air rippled around it, and while I had a choice whether to give him attention, just that movement alone had a commanding presence that forced me to focus where he was looking as well. Nestled in a knot of wood, buried deep inside the tree's bark, was a crystal of pale amber, barely visible from this angle.

It was high up the trunk, and our trebuchet shots had hit right below the crystal. We hadn't destroyed it—if such a thing was possible—but we were much closer than the orcs.

"We came when we sensed the Slumberer waking up," Askan said.

"Thanks for the warning, then," I replied. After a few reluctant seconds, the Grencloak provided, "I appreciate your effort in defeating the orcs, as well. Even if it did harm the tree, letting the orcs have their way would've been worse." At least it finally sank in. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and instead, I just nodded. I couldn't tear my eyes off the amber crystal. Its facets were smooth, and it was completely clear—nothing trapped inside it. This book is hosted on another platform.

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"Alas, we are spread very thin these days," Askan provided.

"You Dupes clean up the regular orcs, and we deal with the tougher arcane threats where we can, but we are needed more up north."

"How long did it take you to arrive?"

"We were already in the area, dealing with a rotmonger, when we sensed the Slumberer awakening. It was not a massive detour." Askan lowered his arm and tucked his hands beneath the folds of his cloak, hiding his ring from me.

"A rotmonger?"

"Do not concern yourself with such powerful foes," Askan said.

"There are things in this world that are beyond you, System-user." I sighed abruptly. I didn't like that answer.

"What about Slumberers, then? Are they beyond me?"

"Yes."

"But considering I woke one up, you could at least tell me what they are."

"Duplicates are not supposed to be this curious." I snorted.

"Yeah, but you know I'm not a Dupe."

"A Slumberer is an ancient, powerful spirit. A soul that refused to move on from the world, and refused to cross over to Welkinmere. Aelfwine was a powerful king, uniting our country against the Vane-march invaders, but he became terrified of death in his old age. He planted many trees so people would remember him, and this is the only one that has survived all these years."

"Because his soul got attached to it?"

"A fragment of his soul. It's hardly him anymore." I looked back at the tree.

"How powerful is it? You said Emerald tier, but…"

"If it woke up entirely, then yes, it would be Emerald tier. If you had faced the Slumberer's full fury, you would not have survived."

"I take it they're called Slumberers 'cause usually, they just do nothing their whole lives? They just sleep? Getting more and more powerful as they rest."

"How observant." I actually rolled my eyes this time.

"Hey, I'm just checking."

"What is your goal here, Atoning? Why are you so concerned about a spiritual world you will never interact with?" I blinked.

"I'm not allowed to be curious about the world I'm living in? As far as I'm concerned, I can't go back to my first home."

"What do you want? Why are you here?"

"To win," I said plainly. Askan tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, then pressed his lips together. Finally, he said, "I suppose so, yes. I didn't expect that, least of all from an Atoning. Everyone these days has some sort of ulterior motive, some sort of vendetta to fight for or a quest to fill their coffers with gold." I spread my arms.

"I've seen enough. I know what will happen if we lose." Askan nodded slowly, then pinched his faint moustache.

"Hm. Yes, I suppose so. That…is a reasonable explanation, if not painfully simple. Come back with us. It is midday, and I am certain you're exhausted. You must let your horses and men rest before you return to your camp, and our hideout is not far."

"Where?"

"Our rangers' den. We will feed you." I shrugged, then glanced at the other Dupes. They still breathed hard. Some of them brushed down their horses, and others leaned against the trebuchets, trying to catch their breath.

"Sure, we'll come," I said.

"We'll rest up for the night, and then in the morning, we'll get moving again."

"As expected," Askan said.

"Why, though? Why help us?" Askan laughed.

"Winning is not something anyone in Gate has considered for many centuries. I want to meet the man who thinks we can do it."

"What about my trabuchets?"

"That's what you care about?"

"It's a practical matter. Not spiritual." Askan glanced back at the other Greencloaks, and, earning a few sighs and groans of disapproval, said, "Very well. We will help you move them, too." ~ ~ ~ The Greencloaks' den was, thankfully, north of the boglands. Apparently, it wasn't their only hideout, and this was far from their headquarters or their main school (my information about them having a school here had been exaggerated, it seemed).

But it was along our way back to the 294th's camp, and we wouldn't have to double back. I would've never found the Greencloaks' den had it not been for Askan. He led us back into the fields, helping pull a trebuchet himself, while the rest of the Greencloaks lended a hand with the others. When we reached a valley, we stopped. It had once been a river valley, a branch of the Thelea River, but it had dried up long ago or changed course.

Nothing had been built along the valley walls due to a rumour of a haunting, which Askan assured us had been spread by the Greencloaks simply to ensure their privacy. We followed a trail along the valley's ridge, then found a flat patch to leave the trebuchets, catapults, and wagons, before veering off course and descending down the valley's sides. There was nothing here except for leafless shrubs and tall, frost-covered grass.

We tromped through the undergrowth, dodging spiny plants, until the Greencloaks stopped halfway down the slope and motioned toward the ground. At first, I saw nothing—until Askan snapped his fingers. The air shimmered, and something changed. One moment, there was just dirt and bushes, and the next, a Labyrinth entrance appeared, carved into the side of the valley slope. It was slightly narrower than the other entrances, but it had the same white marble structure, with carved, ornamental pillars and eroded edges.

"Here," Askan said.

"This is our den." I glanced at the others. For a moment, I hesitated. Should we just trust the Greencloaks? What if they were taking us somewhere to kill us? But judging by how strong they were, why would they do that? They could've already done it without revealing their hideout to us. Besides, they were on our side. I nodded, then followed Askan into the labyrinth.