The next couple of days blurred into a gruelling rhythm of limping progress. Thankfully, the Tallenwood Forest seemed to have exhausted its supply of immediate threats aimed directly at William, though the lingering tension remained. Edward moved with a quiet, lethal vigilance at the head of their small procession, his eyes constantly scanning, missing nothing. Julia walked near William, offering quiet encouragement or a steadying hand when he stumbled badly on the uneven terrain. William, leaning heavily on the sturdy branch Edward had fashioned into a crutch, found the rhythmic thump-tap of his steps and the persistent throb in his leg became a crude but effective clock, marking the slow passage of time and distance towards the sanctuary of Sharwood. The forest, while still strangely beautiful with its ethereal glow, now felt different, charged with the knowledge of the conflict it bordered. Were the shadows deeper? Or was that just his awareness projecting the data from his nightmare?
With the immediate survival crisis momentarily downgraded from 'critical' to 'urgent', William's analytical mind seized the opportunity presented by the long stretches of walking. He needed data. Badly. His internal model of reality had undergone a catastrophic failure upon arrival, and he was now operating on fragmented inputs and high levels of uncertainty. Magic was real. Goblins and dire wolves were real. And according to the disturbing playback loop his brain kept running from the 'dream', a large-scale conflict involving necromancy was very real. Information acquisition designated Priority One.
"This place…" he began, testing his voice, still slightly hoarse, addressing Julia who walked patiently beside him. "You mentioned 'the land'. What… what is this kingdom called?" He needed labels, parameters, basic data points to start constructing a new framework. "Probably should've paid more attention during those fantasy novel read-throughs," he thought wryly. "Might have gleaned some useful survival skills."
"This is the Kingdom of Aver," Julia replied, her voice soft but carrying a distinct note of quiet pride, a subtle resonance of belonging that even the translation spell conveyed. She gestured vaguely around them, though her eyes held a distant sadness. "We've known centuries of relative stability under the Aver royal line. King Bartam the Third, our current ruler, presided over a particularly long and prosperous peace until recently." A wistful look crossed her face. "Our lands were fertile, towns bustled with trade, artisans created beauty, scholars sought knowledge…" She sighed, the sound barely audible over the rustle of leaves. "But," her voice firmed slightly, "peace, prolonged peace, can breed… complacency. A dangerous softness. You forget to watch the shadows."
Kingdom: Aver. Governance: Monarchy (Bartam III). Historical Status: Stable, prosperous (pre-conflict). Identified Vulnerability: Complacency leading to degraded defensive readiness, William mentally filed the data points. Classic civilization decline precursor.
Edward, walking point, must have overheard. He made a noise that was half snort, half growl, without turning around. "Soft," he bit out, the word thick with bitterness. "Fat and happy, aye. Like pigs waiting for the knife. We let the watchtowers crumble, ignored the whispers from the borders. Let the darkness fester."
William seized on the opening. "The darkness… you mean Dark Lord Neverus?" He spoke the name aloud, testing its weight. It felt cold, ominous, just as it had in the dream. "He's the one responsible for… this?"
"He is the nexus of it," Julia confirmed, her expression grim. "He rose from obscurity, wielding arts long forbidden, necromancy of a power not seen in ages. He didn't just command the dead, he twisted the natural order, enslaved monstrous things that had kept to the deep wilds for generations. He forged them, living and dead, into the Dark Legion." She shivered slightly despite the mild air. "And they grow stronger every day."
"How long?" William pressed. "How long has he been… active?"
"In secret? Who knows?" Julia admitted, gazing into the woods as if searching for answers there. "For years, there were signs, looking back. Rumours of unrest in the northern provinces, entire villages vanishing near the mountains in the far north west, monsters growing bolder. But they were dismissed, banditry, isolated incidents, border skirmishes. Wishful thinking. No one wanted to believe a true storm was gathering." Failure of early warning systems noted. Pattern recognition deficit at leadership level.
"Until Shendek," Edward interjected, his voice suddenly harsh, grating like stone. He stopped, turning briefly, his face a mask of cold fury, the lines etched deeper than ever. He spat onto the leaf litter beside the path, a raw gesture of contempt. "Two years ago. Shendek. A free city, northwestern edge of the kingdom." His eyes briefly met William's, hard and unforgiving. "He fell on them with legions of bone and shadow. They fought, gods, they fought. But he overwhelmed them. Slaughtered anyone who didn't bend the knee, then… then he raised them." The word was choked with suppressed rage. "Men, women, children. Twisted them into his puppets. That woke the King up. That woke everyone up. But damn near too late." He turned abruptly and stalked forward again.
William processed the information, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. Data point: Shendek. Location: NW edge of kingdom. Event: Overrun by unconventional forces (undead/monsters) approx. 2 years prior. Tactical outcome: Catastrophic loss for Aver, high civilian casualties, necromantic conversion implemented. Significance: Trigger event for widespread conflict awareness. It correlated perfectly, sickeningly, with the flashback echo, with Edward's barely contained grief and fury. Hypothesis: Subject Edward is a survivor/refugee of Shendek incident. High probability. "You'd think," William mused, forgetting himself for a moment, the analyst overriding the cautious survivor, "that large-scale reanimation events would appear as significant outliers in civic mortality statistics. Hard data to ignore." He earned a sharp look from Julia for that, a reminder of the human cost behind his cold assessment.
"So Aver is fighting back now?" he asked quickly, changing tack, needing some positive data.
"We're trying," Julia said, the weariness back in her voice, the burden heavy on her shoulders despite her youth. "King Bartam rallied what forces we had left, conscripted heavily, poured gold into rebuilding the military. Trying to make up for lost decades in mere months." She straightened slightly. "And he strengthened the Adventurers Guilds across the kingdom. Fostering talent, recruiting those with… unique skills. People willing to take the fight to the Legion in ways the regular army cannot. Like us."
Response Strategy: Conventional military buildup (delayed), leveraging non-state actors (Adventurers Guild) for specialized/asymmetric warfare tasks. Interesting. A structured approach to managing freelancers and exceptional individuals.
"We've held the line," Edward added gruffly from ahead, a note of grim pride in his tone. "Lost the north, most of the west swallowed by the Legion's blight. But they haven't broken through the central provinces. Not yet. It's a stalemate." He clenched his fists audibly. "But a stalemate that bleeds us dry while he grows stronger. Every soldier we lose, he potentially gains. It's an attrition war we can't sustain long-term." Current strategic assessment: Stalemate (precarious). Territorial losses: Significant. Key enemy advantage: Unsustainable attrition dynamic due to necromantic recruitment. Long-term prognosis without intervention: Negative.
"So you're both… adventurers?" William asked, the pieces clicking into place. Their skills, their presence here…
"We are," Julia confirmed, a flicker of the earlier pride returning. "Our Guild task was this scouting mission. Investigate the increased goblin activity in Tallenwood, assess how far the Legion's influence might be spreading, if they were using goblins as proxies." Their role: Reconnaissance/Intelligence Gathering. Risk: High. Necessity: High.
Edward grunted again. "Found a scouting party before we stumbled on you," he said over his shoulder. "Took out most of them, but one slippery cur got away. Probably the one that jumped you. They are getting bolder, pushing further south than they should. Bad sign. Means the Legion is stirring, testing the borders."
William absorbed this. The goblin hadn't been random. It was part of this larger, terrifying pattern. And Julia and Edward had been fighting nearby, taking risks, and still chose to divert resources, time, energy, safety, to rescue him, a complete unknown. A surge of genuine gratitude, sharper this time, made his throat tighten. "I… I see," he said, the words inadequate. "I'm incredibly glad you found me when you did. I wouldn't have lasted. I owe you both."
Julia offered him another small, reassuring smile, though her eyes remained shadowed by the grim reality they discussed. "We do what we can, William. These are dark times. We have to help each other. We're all in this together now."
Her words, simple and direct, resonated within him. He felt the weight of their dedication, their resilience in the face of seemingly impossible odds. He was still an anomaly, an outsider with useless skills, but… maybe not entirely useless? Observed high levels of duty/altruism in companions despite adverse conditions. Current user skillset: Primarily analytical. Potential applications in current conflict scenario: Strategic planning support? Intelligence analysis collation? Logistical optimization modelling? Requires further data on organizational structure and needs. The thought was unexpected, a deviation from his primary survival focus, but it felt… right. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was a pattern here he could contribute to, not just observe.