The silence stretched between us like a taut wire ready to snap. Virelia's crimson eyes sparkled with the kind of amusement that probably preceded very bad things happening to very unlucky people. Around us, the command tent had transformed from a hub of military efficiency into a frozen tableau of "what the hell did she just say?"
"Execute him," she repeated cheerfully, as if clarifying her lunch order. "Right here, right now. Quick and clean, Aldie~ We have more important things to focus on than mysterious variables."
Variables. The word hit me like a slap. That's all I was to her—not a person, not even a potential threat worth interrogating. Just an inconvenient unknown in whatever cosmic equation she was calculating.
The system chose that moment to flood my vision with helpful analysis:
[THREAT ASSESSMENT: CRITICAL]
[Subject: Virelia - Threat Level: ABSOLUTE]
[Recommendation: COMPLY WITH ALL DEMANDS]
Thanks, system. Very helpful. Really boosting my confidence here.
"Dame," Thane's voice cut through the tension, and I caught something in her tone that made everyone in the tent shift uncomfortably. "Permission to speak freely?"
Aldric's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Granted."
"He saved us from the Ruin Guard," Thane said, her words carefully measured but carrying an edge that suggested she was walking a very dangerous line. "If he wanted us dead, he had ample opportunity. His magic..." She paused, seeming to weigh her words. "It was beyond anything I've witnessed from hostile mages."
Virelia's smile widened, and somehow that made everything worse. "Oh my~ Little Thane is developing a soft spot for strays."
The temperature in the tent seemed to drop several degrees. Thane's hand moved instinctively toward her sword hilt, a gesture so slight I almost missed it, but Virelia caught it immediately.
"I hate disobedience in my cute little soldiers," Virelia continued, her playful tone now carrying undertones that made my teeth ache. "It disrupts the data flow. Creates... complications."
Data flow? The phrase sent a chill down my spine that had nothing to do with the supernatural cold radiating from Virelia. She really was treating all of this, all of us, like some kind of experiment.
Aldric stepped forward, one hand moving to rest on her rapier's pommel. The gesture was smooth, professional, final. "Thane, stand down. That's an order."
"Dame, I..."
"Sergeant." Aldric's voice carried the weight of absolute command. "You will follow orders, or you will be relieved of duty. Permanently."
The conflict playing out across Thane's face was painful to watch. Duty warring with conscience, chain of command crushing personal conviction. Her hand fell away from her sword, but her jaw remained set in stubborn lines.
"Understood, Dame," she said finally, but her eyes found mine for just a moment, and I saw something there that might have been an apology.
Well, I thought as Aldric's hand moved to draw her blade, it was nice being alive for... checks mental calendar... however long that lasted.
"I'm sorry, stranger," Aldric said, and the genuinely regretful tone in her voice somehow made this worse. She drew Dawnbreaker in one fluid motion, the blade singing as it cleared the scabbard. "Orders are orders."
Seven steps. That was the distance between us. Seven steps for a woman who moved like liquid lightning and carried a weapon that probably had its own tragic backstory.
Time dilated as my enhanced perception kicked into overdrive, probably the same way a mouse's vision sharpened right before a cat's paw connected. Aldric's approach was textbook perfect—controlled, efficient, aimed directly at my heart with the kind of precision that spoke of years spent ending lives professionally.
The system exploded in my vision like a broken television having a seizure:
[COMBAT ANALYSIS INITIATED]
[TARGET: COMMANDER ALDRIC SWAN]
[ATTACK PATTERN: STRAIGHT THRUST - HEART STRIKE]
[SPEED: SUPERHUMAN][EVASION PROBABILITY: 12%]
[SURVIVAL PROBABILITY: 3%]
But beneath the cascade of depressing statistics, something else began to unfold. Combat prediction arrays that I definitely didn't remember having access to started painting trajectory lines across my vision in brilliant blue. Threat vectors appeared as red cones of doom, while potential escape routes flickered like dying Christmas lights.
This is what sharingan users must feel like, some absurd part of my brain noted as I watched Aldric's blade approach with agonizing clarity. Except I'm about to die instead of looking cool.
My body moved without conscious input, desperation and whatever divine bullshit the forge had grafted onto my soul taking control. I threw myself to the left, feeling the rapier's point part the air where my chest had been microseconds before.
The blade caught me anyway.
Pain exploded through my right arm as Dawnbreaker carved a furrow from shoulder to elbow, the enchanted steel parting flesh and muscle like they were suggestions rather than actual body parts. Blood sprayed in an arc that probably violated several artistic sensibilities, and I heard myself scream in a pitch that would have embarrassed my teenage self.
I hit the ground hard, rolling across the tent's carpeted floor while clutching my mangled arm. The smell of my own blood mixed with the metallic taste of terror, creating a sensory cocktail that really should have come with a warning label.
Sixty percent, my brain helpfully calculated through the haze of agony. Sixty percent of my arm just became abstract art.
"Interesting," Virelia's voice cut through my internal crisis like a scalpel through tissue. "No mana enhancement. No battle aura. No combat training." Her head tilted with predatory curiosity. "Yet you survived a heart strike from a Level 57 Swordmaster."
The tent had gone dead silent, except for the sound of my ragged breathing and the steady drip of blood onto expensive carpet, forming dark constellations of consequence. Every soldier within sight was staring at me with the kind of shock usually reserved for witnessing minor miracles or major disasters.
Aldric stood frozen, her blade still extended in perfect form, but her eyes were wide with something that might have been confusion and disbelief. "That shouldn't have been possible," she said quietly.