Cultivating Anthro CEO RPG Hero Harem Reincarnation In Another World - Chapter 168

XXX.

It was a fringe, no-name Ishtari settlement. The kind where donkeys and stray dogs and cats had free roam of the dusty streets lined with beggars, and destitute merchants desperately trying to keep from becoming beggars. The whole place, stinking of sweat and waste. Gaius only sought to restock on his supplies when, as he was walking through with his horse, a pair of soldiers came and stood in his way.

“Halt!” One greeted him while the other stood by, observing with a suspicious grin. “All new travelers must pay a fine!”

Gaius looked them over. Smelling strongly of alcohol, both men were unkempt with their hair and beards messy, and wearing dirty, plain civilian robes rather than armor. The only aspect of their appearances that marked them as soldiers were the swords with unique bronze decorated hilts at their sides, which for all Gaius knew had been stolen.

“No,” Gaius simply said, knowing a shakedown when he saw it.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” The soldier snapped, gritting his teeth angrily. “It’s an order!”

Having nothing more to say after that, Gaius made a move to walk past them but they quickly scrambled to block him off again.

This time, they were clutching their sword hilts. “Is it trouble you want, big guy? A fight?”

“Hm.” Gaius grunted. He would rather not spill blood, even if it belonged to a fool, but in this case it seemed unavoidable.

He slowly started to reach for his own sword, but was stopped by a hand touching his arm.

“Honorable sirs,” a woman dressed in peasant cloth said, appearing beside him. “Please, allow me to pay on behalf of my friend here.”

After paying off each soldier, the woman turned to Gaius with a stern look.

“I know you’re not from around these parts, but the last thing you want to do is start a scene.”

She cocked her head in a direction, prompting Gaius to look and see a group of men, whom otherwise had blended in with the crowed in their plain clothes, laughing and drinking and talking with one another, occasionally casting glances at him.

“More soldiers,” Gaius grumbled under his breath. It could have gotten messy. For them.

“They have become drunk with power,” the woman explained, talking to him in a hushed whisper. “They know we are always at risk of an attack from the Ankh, and use it as leverage against us to demand more and more outrageous payments. Threatening desertion, or violence, if we refuse.”

“Is there one good man left in their ranks I can speak to about this? What of their Captain?”

The woman looked at him like he was crazy. “What would a talk achieve? It has been going on like this for years.”

Gaius grinned. “I have methods that are most convincing.”

“The last thing we need is an outsider trying to play the hero!” She bristled.

Realizing she was beginning to raise her voice, she lowered it again, looking around as if to make sure they weren’t being watched.

“I think it would be best if you get whatever it is you came here for, and move along.”

Gaius didn’t care to argue. Besides, he had somewhere to be, with the job he was doing for that rotten Saladin.

“My name is Gaius, and if you can show me to some water I will do just that.”

“I am Nemi,” the woman said, smiling and twirling at a strand of dark brown hair fallen by her ear. “Come, and I will show you to a well.”

XXXI.

As Gaius set out once more on his trek across the sandy dunes, he thought about how the desert was both a blessing and a curse for the Ishtari.

The sands were the best defense they had against the Ankh, as with hundreds of miles of barren desert stretching between the Ishtari and the single greatest threat to their peace, it meant launching a full scale invasion was out of the question for the Ankh. An invasion which the Ishtari, for all their grit and courage, could never have hoped to endure.

So instead, the Ankh was forced to try different strategies. Rather than invade the capital directly, they would sneak smaller units in ships across the Ishtari-patrolled river, down through the desert, to engage in small skirmishes with fortifications along the outermost border of the Ishtari lands. In doing so, they would gradually extend their grasp; one fort, one key location, one small village at a time, establishing more and more centers of power and chains to establish a supply route within the region, eating away at the outside until they reached the very heart of Ishtar within.

Seeing one of the fringe towns in such a vulnerable state did not bode well for the Ishtari.

Gaius had made it less than a mile out of the village, pondering all this, when he suddenly heard the sound of horse hooves on sand.

A company of five or six men were riding out from the village, armed with swords and javelins.

One of them was watching from atop his horse, his face concealed in a hood.

He raised his arm, signalling to the others. “Kill him.”

All at once they were upon Gaius like a pack of jackals, as he drew his longsword to defend against their swift, darting blows coming from every direction.

Gaius dodged a spear thrust, then yanked it by the pole to pull the attacker out of his saddle.

He was about to deliver a finishing blow, but looked up and saw two of the riders charging him at once, with swords arched back for another swing.

Gaius grinned, relaxing his stance.

He stood completely still, lowering himself with his legs spread out and longsword held in a blocking position in front of him — unmoving even as the horsemen were nearly within range with their swords.

The masked man on his horse shifted in his saddle — wondering just what foolishness he was witnessing.

But Gaius knew exactly what he was doing.

At last second, the horses spooked and swerved apart and away from him, completely throwing off their riders’ aims.

The masked man gasped and immediately held up his hand, prompting the others to refrain.

“So it really is you,” he said, in a woman’s voice. “General Gaius.”

Gaius frowned. “I have not been called by that title in quite some time, stranger.”

“I’ve never heard of a man, other than General Gaius, who could scare a horse like that.”

Gaius smirked. “It is nothing special. I’m so big, they must mistake me for a wall.”

“It’s more than that,” the masked soldier said, twirling at a strand of dark brown hair that had fallen out of their hood. “It is…a certain presence you exude, greater than that of most men. Just as my father would tell me of, in his many stories.”

They stepped off their horse and lowered their hood, revealing their true identity as the woman Gaius had talked to in town.

Her expression was bleak. “It never occurred to me that you could be the real Gaius.”

Gaius grinned. “Was this flimsy ambush attempt made to be a kind of test…Captain Neimi?”

She shook her head. “My men and I mistook you for a brigand. Our intent was to kill you, and rob you of everything you have. Then, to let the sand bury your remains.”

Gaius walked over to help up the soldier with the spear he’d pulled off his horse.

“So, the situation has become this dire…”

After the fallen soldier was up, he gave a slight nod of respect to Gaius, before stepping away.

“My father was Captain, until he was slain during a Mer assault.” Neimi explained. “With Fort Kartiz now in the enemy’s hands, our supply route with the main army has been cut off, so we must do what we can to survive.”

“Most would desert under such conditions,” Gaius said, impressed.

Neimi was sullen. “To speak my honest thoughts, I feel as if my men and I have been left to the wolves by the main army.”

Just by looking at them, Gaius could see how the past few months had taken its toll on their forces, by the slim frames and exhausted faces counted among them. If they had to fight a full force of Ankh soldiers in their current shape, he wondered just how far their raw determination would take them.

“If you have a plan in mind,” Gaius said, “There is a heart that beats for Ishtar still within me, yet.”

XXXII.

Tucked away in his chambers at Fort Kartiz, Captain Donadio was at an easel making some finishing touches to a painting he’d been working on.

Nothing about the man identified him as a Fralian, aside from his name. Reflected in the mirror beside the easel was what remained of his face, the charred flesh and hairless skull. The voice he would now and again speak to himself with bore no accent. In truth, he’d accepted the Ankh as his new Motherland long ago, when he’d managed to earn the good graces of its generals and rise up in the ranks to become Captain — something he never could have achieved in the posh, shallow society of Fralia, where appearances were everything.

Now, his paints were imported from Fralia. Squirrel hair brushes from Rome. Paper from Mertruria. What new element would the conquering of Ishtar bring to his creation…?

As he was amusing himself with this very thought, a Mer soldier burst through the door.

“What is it!?” Donadio snapped, annoyed by the interruption. “And don’t they teach manners in Mertruria? Knock first!”

“The supply caravan has finally arrived, sir!”

“It’s about time!” He set his brush down with a scowl. “By God, it’s almost sundown…”

There was no space for incompetence and delay in the war machine — Donadio would not allow it — and he see to it that this would never happen again.

The sky was a deep-dyed orange splashed with yellows when the gates to Fort Kartiz were opened to allow in the procession of covered supply wagons.

Once they were all in the courtyard, the gates were sealed behind them.

Donadio stomped toward them, his blood red cape wafting behind him with each step.

“Now, you listen here!” He accosted the driver of the first wagon. “When operating under military conditions, I expect military precision! That means, you are to be here on time! For every delivery! No excuses!”

Neimi, sitting there in the driver’s chair, gave a smile. “Don’t worry, Captain.”

All at once, her entire platoon of Ishtari soldiers came charging out of the backs of the wagons, screaming battle cries as they flooded the fort, killing every Ankh soldier in sight.

Neimi grinned, pleased by Donadio’s expression. “I promise, it won’t happen again.”

Among her soldiers was Gaius, barking orders, making short work of any that stood in his path.

Donadio was awestruck, watching his men be mowed down, before turning back to Neimi in a rage, only to realize she had him pinned at sword-point.

“I’ve always tried to envision the face of my father’s killer,” she said, sucking in her lip. Scarcely able to contain the bitterness in her voice. “I just never imagined that face…to be so damn ugly!”

“You Ishtari!” Donadio snarled. “If it’s not about your promised land, it’s about family.”

He never expected them to try something so brazen as this, in their weakened state.

I guess there’s no helping it, he thought. Time for a tactical retreat.

With a very quick, precise shake of his right sleeve, a dagger fell out from a mechanism he’d had stored within it, into his palm, which he then threw at her with blinding speed.

It embedded her in the shoulder, causing her to reel back in pain.

Donadio snatched the sword out of her hand as she was reeling, turning its blade unto her.

“I have a feeling we’ll be meeting again someday,” he said.

While continuing to hold her at bay with the sword, Donadio  went to cut loose one of the horses hitched to the front of the wagon — trained to stay calm and still, even through all this madness — and mounted it.

With a click of his heels he bade his horse to swivel round, and looked deeply at Neimi’s face.

And oh, what a beautiful face it was — the perfect roundness and smoothness of it, the rich brown Ishtari complexion, the presently glowering black pupil eyes positively bursting with character.

It was a face he was certain to not forget

“Enjoy your victory while you can,” he seethed aloud, before taking off through the gates at a gallop.