Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

Unfortunately, the patrol no doubt saw us at the same time that we did them. We’d been traveling for several hours by that point since we’d gotten back underway. The morning light was waning, leaving us in the fullness of a fall day.

Several miles out, I saw the patrol suddenly cross over the top of a hill on the horizon. They were traveling in our direction on the same road that we were on. I couldn’t make out precise numbers from this distance, but it wasn’t a small group. In the midst of a group of more than two dozen, I saw the crimson banner of the Herztalian Kingdom.

I stiffened at the sight of it. “Shit,” I muttered. My expletive drew the attention of Grey, causing him to look up from his book. He frowned, catching sight of the patrol as well, aged brow furrowing. He sat his book down on the bench next to Fade.

“Shit indeed,” He said, sitting up. Turning around, he banged on the wall behind him until the latch opened. Sylvia’s gemlike blue eyes peered through it up at her father curiously. “Patrol on the road. Tell the others to ready themselves, if it goes badly.” I saw Sylvia’s eyes narrow slightly, and then bob up and down in a nod. She wordlessly closed the latch, before muffled conversation began to drift my way from the cabin.

Meanwhile, Grey turned to me with a sober look on his face. “This is what I was afraid of,” He told me seriously. “Scouts would not have been a problem, but a full patrol will be. They’ll be on edge in these lands. No doubt they have orders to search every merchant and traveler they come upon for Sculpted or Uprising soldiers and material.” He sighed. “Depending on the officer in charge, I have slim hopes this won’t devolve into violence.”

I nodded at my mentor, seriously. “All right. What do you want me to do?”

“Try and offer a bribe,” Grey told me. When my eyebrows rose in surprise, he smiled wryly at me. “As I said, it depends on the officer in charge. Hopefully, the one we encounter is sufficiently corrupt.” Digging around in his drab robe, Grey pulled out a small, clinking bag. Handing it to me, I loosened the drawstring to look inside. A pile of gold coins greeted my gaze.

Closing the bag, I looked up at Grey and sighed. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“Do your best, Nathan, but be prepared for battle. I’ll leave it to you,” Having said that, Grey reached up and pulled his hat down further over his face and slumped in the driver's seat. I heard his breath even out, as he began to pretend to be asleep.

Meanwhile, I turned back to the road and deliberately untensed myself. Keeping my own breath even, I laid a hand on Fade’s head to try and calm myself.

Wait, shit.

Banging on the wall behind me myself and drawing a curious eye peek from Grey, I waited until the latch opened again. This time, I saw that it was Azarus that opened it. “Yeah?” He asked me seriously.

Picking up my wolf pup with a curious whine from him, I passed him through the latch. He was still small enough to fit through. “Take Fade, and hide him inside. He’s still too young to fight.” I told my dwarven friend. Azarus took him and nodded at me before closing the latch.

Turning back to the road, I steadied myself.

All right. Let’s do this.

……………………………………..

It took us another twenty minutes of travel down the road before the patrol drew near us. During that time, I tried to keep an eye on them as we approached each other, but I never saw any behavior that alarmed me. I don’t think they were immediately suspicious of us, but it was hard to tell.

As we came into sight of them, I got a closer look at the patrol. Yeah, these were definitely Herztalian soldiers, alright. I recognized the armor and tabard from the battlefield we’d encountered on the drive to Hollow Hill.

I retained some small hope that they’d let us pass unmolested, but that didn’t last long. As the wagon got close to the group of soldiers, they stopped in the middle of the road, blocking it off.

“Ho, there!” I heard a gruff voice called out from the mass. Stepping out of the group was a large, bald man with an impressively large mustache. He was wearing visibly more elaborate armor than the rest of his soldiers, and even had a cape slung over his shoulders.

I guess this must be their officer. Fancy looking, eh. I knew how to play this.

Pulling on the reigns, I slowed the wagon in front of the group of soldiers. Casting a quick gaze over the group, I counted thirty-two. Thirty-two soldiers, some of them bored, some of them extremely alert. “Cannae help ye, Ossifer?” I asked the officer, affecting an accent.

The officer didn’t blink, just staring at me intently. I don’t know what he was looking for, because he sure as hell wasn’t using Observe on me. “Who are you, good ser?” He finally asked me. “These are dangerous times to be traveling in.”

I shrugged at the man from up on the drivers bench. “Wha’, cause of that there war? Ain’t no mind ta me. Jus’ cause some dollies are runnin’ amuck don’t mean I cain’t do me business.”

I heard some of the soldiers snicker at my accent. They stopped, though, when the officer turned around to glower at his underlings. He turned back around to me when he was done. “And what exactly is your business, my good man?” He asked.

“Imma porter,” I told him lazily, leaning back on my hands. “Got me a load ta take down the coast. Takin’ me pepaw wit’ me, ‘cause maw and paw are too busy ta keep an eye on him.” I jerked a finger over at the ‘snoozing’ Grey, drawing the gaze of the officer. On cue, he let out a loud snore from his slumped-over position. “Headin’ down ta Shrievesport. Heard they’s hurtin’ fer grain, what wit’ no boats comin’ in, dontcha know.”

The officer nodded slowly at my words. God, I’m glad I took the time to study the map back in Hollow Hill. It was useful to know the names of some actual towns. “I see,” He said, relaxing somewhat. “ And your name?”

“Names Martin Cross,” I told the officer, making something up on the spot. “Who’re ye?”

“Captain William Dallens,” He told me. “Your cargo is grain, then? And where are you coming from?”

“Aye,” I said to the man, squinting at him. “Carryin’ a bunch o’ grain from Willowsby way. ‘Ere now, wha’s all this aboot, then? I ent don’t nuttin’ wrong.”

The mustachioed Captain raised his hands my way soothingly. “Merely a routine inspection, good ser. Nothing more. You can be on your way. I don’t think you war-”

“Wait,” I heard a voice interrupt from the group of soldiers, dashing my hopes of an easy getaway. The officer turned around in surprise. A young soldier stepped out of the line of soldiers, squinting at me.

He had a suspicious look on his face.

“I’m from Willowsby,” He said, in an accent that wasn’t half as exaggerated as mine. “And I don’t recognize ye.”

This time, when Captain Dallens turned to face me, he didn’t look near as accommodating at he did before. He didn’t say anything yet though.

I felt a sweat break out on the back of my neck, but I tried not to let it show on my face. “Didna say I was from Willowsby, lad. I’m jus’ a porter.”

“Yeah?” The young soldier asked me disbelievingly. “And yer carryin’ grain? We don’t even grow grain up in Willowsby. It’s an apple town. Hell, we don’t even got a porter’s office!”

Before I could speak, Dallens finally stepped in. “Back in line, Private Orsen,” He said sternly, never taking his eyes from me. Nevertheless, the Private stepped back in line with a salute. “Good ser, I’m going to have to insist on a full inspection.”

He wasn’t asking.

I affected an affronted look. “’Ere now, what’s the issue? I ent lyin’ to nobody now. The lad’s jus’ mistaken, tha’s all.”

“Step down from the cart, ser,” Captain Dallens said menacingly, causing some of his soldiers to lay their hands on their sheathed swords. “I won’t ask again.”

I set the reigns of the cart down slowly. Briefly, I darted my eyes over to Grey, to see that he had an eye open and fixed on me from behind the cover of his hat. He gave me a small, concealed nod. I took a deep breath. “Alright, alright now. Don’t get yer britches in a bunch. Imma comin’.” Taking off my own hat and setting it on the bench, I hopped down from the wagon. Once I was down on the ground, I found that the Captain was much more imposing than he had been when I was on the bench. This guy had more than a few inches on me.

Said officer stared down at me sternly. “Proceed to the back of the cart for the inspection.”

Holding up my hands in faux surrender, I complied. Captain Dallens and I walked around the back of the wagon, accompanied by around ten of his soldiers, leaving the rest to watch the horses and my sleeping ‘pepaw’. Once at the back doors of the wagon, the other soldiers stood off to a safe distance, leaving me and the Captain alone.

Seeing one last chance to possibly settle this without violence, I shuffled in closer to him. “Y’know,” I whispered to him. “I got somethin’ right ‘ere fer ye, if yer willin’ ta look the other way.” Drawing his gaze downwards with a glance, I jiggled the bag of coins that Grey had given me.

Captain Dallens sneered at me. “Are you attempting to bribe a Royal Officer?” He spat off to the side, never taking his disdainful gaze from me. “I’ll be sure to add that to your list of charges, cur. Now stand aside. Time to see what illicit goods you’re actually carrying.” Roughly shoving me off to the side, he approached the doors of the wagon.

Staggering out of the way of the wagon, I sighed. “You know,” I said to the officer, dropping my exaggerated accent. “I wish you were more corrupt. You’re about to really regret that you aren’t.”

Captain Dallens paused in the middle of opening the wagon doors to throw me a confused look.

He didn’t get a chance to do anything more than that.

With a raucous bang, the doors of the wagon burst open on their own, impacting the Captain right in the face. The officer was blown off his feet and flew for several yards, impacting a line of his men. They staggered, but managed to hold him up. It looked like the doors had managed to break his nose, because there was blood running in streams from it. However nobody, not even him, was paying much attention to that.

They were gazing at the sandal-clad chitin foot that had just nearly blown the doors of the cart off their hinges instead. Slowly, Venix unfolded himself from the confines, rising to his full seven-foot height. Under the astonished gazes of the platoon, Venix deliberately laid his four hands on his four sheathed blades.

On Venix’s left, Sylvia grabbed the lip of the wagon roof, and flipped herself on top of it. She crouched there, maskless, golden hair flowing in the wind and silver face gleaming in the sun. On his right, Azarus slipped out of the wagon as well, hammer in one hand and shield clutched in the other. Meanwhile, Aurum peaked out from around the side of Venix’s massive form, but nonetheless stayed in the wagon, clutching his staff.

Under the incredulous gaze of the platoon, Venix spoke first.

“In fate’s firm embrace,

Refusal sealed his bitter end,

Regret stains his choice.”

I darted a quick gaze over at Venix, almost incredulous. Haiku, again? I guess it was a theme with this guy.

While the rest of his platoon streamed alongside the wagon, drawn by the ruckus, Captain Dallens wobbled back to his feet. “You…” He said disbelievingly, gazing darting among the diverse members of our party. His gaze lingered on our Sculpted members, however. “Rebels!” He snarled.

“I suppose we are, Captain,” A voice drifted from the front of the wagon. Slowly, I watched as Grey stood up from his false rest and turned to face the rear of the wagon. Stepping onto the roof of the wagon, Grey walked to stand at the side of his daughter, removing his hat at the same time. Fully revealed, the Archmage gazed down at the soldiers, black and silver eyes glowing.

A wave of disbelief rippled through the gathered soldiery. The Captain in particular seemed affected. “Those eyes…” He breathed.

“Indeed,” Grey smiled coldly.

“Now, let us talk, shall we?”