Something was poking him, irritating him even as he tried to sleep through the discomfort, as if the soreness and cold seeping into his bones was not enough to fight past. Leon opened his bleary eyes to take in the sight of who was disturbing him. It was unfortunate when the only thing he spotted was Rayne’s boot. Leon had really been hoping it had been a rude kobold, something he would be allowed to deprive of an arm or leg.

  It was bad enough that he had had his sleep interrupted for his watch. It had felt as if he had just managed to fall asleep when Syra had decided her shift was over and his was to begin. Three hours was a long time to stare blankly into a dark forest, longer still with the cold. He had not even been allowed to train so he might stay warm; he had tried once, but it was surprising how far sound carried in dead silence.

  Eventually, he had decided the moon had set far enough so he might be allowed to wake Rayne. And then, he snuggled back into his bedroll to struggle for another hour until exhaustion finally allowed him the sweet release of unconsciousness.

  A release being interrupted by a very much unwelcome boot still kicking him.

  Once Rayne noticed Leon’s baleful glare, he stopped kicking. “You’re awake, great. Syra should be back soon with whatever she found.”

  Leon’s glare did not falter. “Why then, pray tell, did you wake me now?”

  It was hard to tell if Rayne shivered from the chilliness of Leon’s words or the crisp morning air. Leon knew which he chose to believe, though, even as he shivered under his bedroll.

  “Figured you should eat first. We can trek to the kobold camp while Syra gives us the run-down.”

  By all appearances, it was a reasonable explanation. Leon grumbled as he left his bedroll, the cold air instantly becoming infinitely more unbearable. He had not been aware summer could be so cold; it was an unwelcome discovery.

  As Leon donned his gear, Rayne was spreading some jam over bread, no doubt their breakfast. Looking around their small campsite, he noticed that the other two had already packed, they had seemingly allowed him to rest longer.

  Shame pooled inside his stomach. Yet another proficiency that the commoners had mastered while he lagged behind. Groaning internally, he finished equipping his armor and got to work packing his bedroll. Rayne, meanwhile, enjoyed his breakfast while staring off into the forest. Leon appreciated the privacy as he awkwardly attempted to fit the bedroll in its bag; he could swear it was the same bag it had come from and yet the dimensions confounded his efforts to shove the bedroll back in.

  Only once his bedding bag was filled, and looking significantly more disheveled than it had last night, did he grab the sandwich Rayne had prepared for him. It was bread they had brought from the tavern, covered in wildberries that must have been foraged on their journey. An unpalatable mix of various berries that left different parts of the sandwich unbearably sour or sweet depending on the concentration. Combined with the thick and stale bread slices used, it made for a thoroughly distasteful meal. It was filling, however, and that was all that truly mattered during a mission.

  Occasionally stealing glances at his composed companion, he tried not to think about how awake the man seemed. Internally, he debated whether his curiosity was worth more than his pride, but eventually asked the question eating away at him. “How long have you both been awake?”

  Rayne looked over and considered the question. Glancing up to the sun, he answered, “Hour, maybe a bit longer. We packed up, Syra went scouting, I got some berries. You didn’t miss much.”

  Leon nodded his understanding. Technically, he had not been needed for any of that; factually, that did little to make him feel better. Syra returned while he pondered the dilemma.

  “I’ve got good news and bad news, whaddya want first?”

  Rayne decided for them. “Good news first.”

  Syra nodded her approval. “Good news is that their numbers have been cut a bit. I caught about six heading out of the camp, including one of the elites. Better news is that the elite left behind is injured—thing’s missing a whole hand. Means they got ten at the camp plus whoever might be in their tents.”

  Rayne looked to be listening intently, clearly already formulating some sort of scheme.

  Syra continued before the man could respond, though. “Bad news is that I couldn’t spot any way into the camp. At least no easy way. Entire place is on lockdown, with kobolds watching every approach.”

  It was clear that Syra had already figured out what Rayne wanted to do, another ambush. Leon would bemoan their seemingly psychic connection if Rayne planning an ambush was not as sure as the sun rising. It was not so much that Leon disliked the ease or repetitive nature of their operations; after a week spent adventuring solely with Rayne, he was starting to get used to those aspects by now. No, it was moreso the lack of what he himself brought to the table besides strength that bothered him.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Any fool could suggest a plan, and ambushes were hardly tactical brilliance. What Leon lacked, however, was the ingenuity to imagine how they might execute an ambush—a trait his student seemed to hold in spades.

  There were times when Leon felt less of a leader and more some sort of dog that Rayne would point at their foes. As much as it might irk him to admit, it seemed that Rayne, the weakest of them, had slid into position as leader. Even Leon found himself deferring to the man’s opinion more often than not.

  Perhaps in an ideal world, Rayne would be the general to Leon’s armies, a tactician who planned in the back while Leon rode forward with the men. It had been a long time since he had learned that an ideal world did not exist though, and in this imperfect world, he would need to train harder to stay so far above Rayne. If all he had to bring to the table was his strength, then it was not just Rayne he would need to stay above, but any other mope who knew how to swing a sword and had slightly higher stats than himself.

  Dispelling the depressing train of thought, he returned his attention back to his companions, noticing that Rayne had donned what Leon had taken to calling his ‘I've figured it out’ face.

  “Alright, we’ll camp out on the path and ambush the hunting party on their way back in. When we fight them, leave one alive. We’ll use them as a lure to bait the others out.”

  Leon thought about the plan. It was fairly typical of Rayne: low risk, decent chance of success. There was only one part he failed to understand though.

  “Lure them out, how?” he asked.

  Rayne cringed just a tad at the question. “If we rough up the last one a bit until it starts screaming, the others will try and investigate.” Before Leon could object, Rayne was already talking over him. “I get that you think it’d be ‘dishonorable’ or ‘cruel’, but this is the best bet for getting them out of the camp. We don’t have a ton of options here.”

  Leon’s eyes narrowed at his companion. This was the part of working with Rayne that he despised the most, the notion of victory at all costs. Little doubt that Rayne was the type of man who would wave the branch of the olive tree, all the while clutching a dagger behind his back.

  “It is a wooden wall. I can use Flame Blade and set it ablaze to force them out,” Leon suggested.

  Syra gave him a so-so gesture. “There’s a good thirty to fifty feet between the wall and forest. You’d be spotted the second you’re outta the woods, and then pelted with rocks all the way over. You aren’t exactly stealthy in all that.” She gestured plainly towards his body.

  “It’s still better than torture,” he argued.

  “We’re killing them anyway. What’s the difference between them dying immediately or a couple minutes later?” Rayne countered.

  “It’s not about life or death, it’s about granting the mercy of a painless execution.”

  Rayne threw his hands in the air. “Our job is to kill them! If you were killing me, I’d prefer you did it fast, sure. But I’d prefer it a hell of a lot more if you just didn’t! My goal is to minimize our injuries, not to bend over and be chivalrous for a bunch of monsters who don’t even understand the word.”

  Syra awkwardly came over to pat Leon on the arm.

  “I get the issue, Leon, but it’s not like they’d be so kind to you.”

  He shrugged off her hand. “It’s not about fairness, it’s about principle. Lines exist to distinguish right from wrong, human from monster.”

  Syra and Rayne exchanged a look at his words, their eyes were full of exasperation that only fueled Leon’s indignation. He considered leaving then and there if not for Rayne’s next words.

  “This is the best plan, Leon. Maybe if one of us knew a long-ranged flame skill, we could set the camp ablaze like you wanted, but the only fire skill we have is your Flame Blade, and it’s just too dangerous for you to try.”

  Rayne’s words had Leon reach down into his breastplate and retrieve the skill book. Thrusting it towards Rayne, he spoke. “You said you would try and learn skills. Then apply the Flame Blade to your arrows and we can go from there.”

  Rayne stared at the pages with interest and a touch of consternation. “I can’t just apply it so easily. I’d need an arrow skill to work off of too, and even then it might take me days, assuming I could do it at all.”

  Scowling, Leon returned the skill book to his chest plate.

  “Look, we can’t really do it without you. If the problem is that we’re abusing a kobold, then just think about the dead adventures in their camp. Without us, they’re not getting any peaceful rest or whatever.”

  Despite the obvious lack of stock Rayne put in his own words, he was correct. The adventurers before them had died in service of the Kingdom; they deserved better than to have their bodies desecrated by kobolds.

  Rayne continued. “Ideals are a privilege for the strong. If you think you’re strong enough to take the kobolds on headfirst, be my guest.”

  “Fine,” Leon ground out. “But don’t expect me to go along with this sort of thing next time. We will train harder and do things the correct way.”

  Rayne’s face contorted in discomfort, but he nodded along. Syra eyed them both warilly before she spoke.

  “You’re right, this isn’t great, and I don’t feel good about it, but it’s what we gotta do. Next time, we’ll be better prepared.” Her part said, Syra began walking off. Slowly, Rayne followed behind.

  Taking a few moments to calm down, Leon contemplated his team members as he stared at their backs. This was how things would always play out so long as the two of them grouped up against him, and they would always group up against him because of their prior friendship. It angered him to no end, but for now, there was nothing that could be done.

  With a deep breath, he calmed the white-hot fury in his chest. This plan was utterly abominable, and he could ill stand to take part, but he would fulfill his duty this one time.

  Forcing his feet to move, he followed the other two. Taking his natural position a few feet behind while they chatted.

  Perhaps this distance will never be bridged.

  Jazz hands