Tara rose, her full suit of armor materializing around her. It took longer than dematerializing the armor and wasn’t as fast as the silver walls had been in her fight against the bandits, but it was unmistakably the same Skill. Actually, Edwin could test that! He quickly targeted the rapidly-forming armor with an Infused Almanac, Armor conjured by a skill of some sort, can be used for magical wall formation too. Identifying the armor once it had finished appearing gave the same result, so he guessed it worked.

“Are you… going to check on her?” Edwin asked, “Why?”

“It is my duty to ensure Citizens of the empire are in good health, and I must discuss matters pertaining to my transportation. Come, I need to keep an eye on you,” Tara replied, all the informality she had slowly accumulated over their conversation falling away in an instant. She walked to the opening in the back of the wagon and just… dropped out.

The wagons weren’t going that fast by Earth standards, perhaps about a brisk jog in pace, but it was still a little strange to watch someone jump out of a moving vehicle, and while Edwin followed a few moments later, it felt even stranger than to just watch. He stepped his pace up to a light run, following behind the armored figure as she outpaced the caravan and jumped inside the first wagon. Looking overhead, Edwin saw two avior circling in the sky above the wagon, the light forest they were traveling through giving way for the road and leaving the path open to the heavens. Once he turned his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing, it wasn’t hard for Edwin to likewise reach the front wagon, though his legs, enjoying their break from constant use, did get annoyed at him.

“-One of my flock is dead, two more grounded, and you ‘apologize for the inconvenience?’ You could have saved them, you bastard! If I had died, would that have been a ‘slight inconvenience’ as well?”

Edwin flinched, nearly falling back out the opening to the wagon as Aerfa’s ranting hit him full bore upon his entry. She was not happy, but it was somewhat amusing seeing the avior look so murderous while still draped over two beanbag chairs.

“Yes.” In sharp contrast to the venom Aerfa was spitting, Tara’s voice was measured, calm, and also noticeably different while in her helmet. More commanding and authoritative, though still soft and gentle in tone and cadence. “I needed to ensure that I could exterminate all the criminals in a single strike, else they would return and continue to harry others while I was not around.”

“So you just stood by as they massacred my flock?”

“Yes.”

“You! Your job is to protect citizens! Was Rellis not enough of a citizen for you?”

“All citizens are equal in the eyes of the law.”

“Oh, don’t you give me that nonsense again, I-” she was cut off as Tara continued talking, her mere presence seeming to dampen Aerfa’s presence and complaints.

“Acting sooner than I had would have endangered others, both present and future. I cannot ignore such consequences.”

“Your actions endangered others now, you incompetent-” her rant was suddenly cut off by Tara’s sword appearing, tip at the avior’s forehead as the Enforcer loomed over her prone figure.

Huh. She definitely had continued speaking past that point, why wasn’t Polyglot translating? Did it just not work if the word suddenly stopped? He was pretty sure he had heard otherwise, but he couldn’t remember any specific instances.

“Watch your words.”

“You wouldn’t, you-” the sword moved faintly closer.

“Do you truly wish to test that?”

Aerfa said nothing, but clearly remained furious.

“As I thought. I will be departing in two days, when you reach Vinstead. Until that time, you are to leave me in peace. Understood?”

The avior sighed. “Understood.”

“Good,” Tara finished the conversation, dropping out the back of the wagon. As she left, a silence Edwin hadn’t even realized existed was lifted from the wagon, and chatter resumed.

“That lousy, inept…”

“Mum. It’s alright. Not her fault.” Forala spoke up, laying a wing on his mother’s back, “I don’t want ta lose you, too.”

That seemed to mollify the enraged merchant somewhat, who breathed out, slumping back into her resting position. Edwin, for his part, felt kind of awkward standing around and wasn’t entirely sure why he had been brought along, but it definitely felt like he was intruding, so he started to quietly sidle away, but was stopped by a resigned call from Aerfa.

“Edwin. Wait.” He turned around, “Thank you. If it weren’t for you, I… Thank you.”

Edwin just gave a bit of an awkward smile and slipped away, letting the mother and son have their moment. When he returned to ‘his’ wagon, he found Tara sitting in one corner, quietly meditating in the corner. Not wanting to disturb her, Edwin just laid down on his bedroll and tried to sleep.

The rest of the trip was fairly uneventful. Sure, things happened, though nothing particularly notable, and people talked endlessly about all kinds of stuff, but none of it really stuck with Edwin, who spent most of the time just on his own bedroll or in a beanbag chair, just dejectedly thinking. He had had enough of people for the time being anyway, so he just kept to himself. There were a few times he attempted to perform a few experiments with his skills, but found he just couldn’t focus, and he had to pull himself back from the brink of completely shutting down multiple times. Something about the scene of the bandits, lying in pools of their own blood, the lifeless body of the medic, whatever his name had been, and Aerfa bleeding out kept returning to the forefront of his mind, and while he didn’t think it had traumatized him, nor did he think that it was wrong for them to die… it was just distracting. It also brought into focus just how different Joriah was from Earth. He hadn’t really expected anything else, though. Most historic civilizations had harsh punishments for banditry, usually death, and they had been actively trying to kill Tara, so it was even self-defense.

But what about the bandits who had fled? Sure, Tara said that they would just return to marauding once she had left and that would put more people at risk, but would they really, with their leader killed? Or would they have just fled as far as they could and try to re-enter society? What even turned them to banditry in the first place? That wasn’t the sort of thing normal people did, was it? Or maybe….

He sighed. This sort of thinking wasn’t productive. Still, he wished he could have asked Tara what happened to people who just by chance weren’t able to follow the Paths needed for a specific Empire-approved Class. Were they able to take alternate Class options for their own circumstances? Did they just do their best, knowing that they’d forever be second-fiddle to people with a more optimized Class? Were they forced to turn to banditry? Sadly, Tara hadn’t so much as opened her eyes since she started meditating, at least while Edwin was around, and there was no way he was about to bother her. He’d had enough of that sword of hers threatening him for the time being.

Regardless, he didn’t feel bad about the bandits being killed. They had been the aggressors, must have been causing a disturbance for some time if there had already been an Enforcer in the area, and had killed one member of their caravan, wounded at least three others, and threatened him. They deserved to die. He would have killed them himself if he hadn’t been so worthless.

...

So why did his brain keep dwelling on it then, darn it?

Was it because he had been so helpless in the face of all of them? Because he had no weapon skills (or Skills) to his name that would help him in that sort of situation, because he was a scientist, not a fighter? Because for all of his time spent trying out various forms of combat back on Earth because martial arts are cool, he never liked hurting people?

Or was it also related to the other image that kept coming back to him as well, of Tara standing over him with her sword drawn and pointed at him, forcing him to spill his secrets once more? Was it just him being weak that was the issue? He’d never really felt fundamentally unsafe back on Earth, but it was a regular occurrence here. Between being dropped in the wilderness, facing a bear bigger than a train, getting lost in a blizzard, being captured and enslaved by dwarves, and now the bandits and his first real interaction with Lirasian law enforcement? He’d yet to actually feel like his life wasn’t in someone else’s hands. It… wasn’t a pleasant feeling. As nice as Tara was, and as much as he felt she had legitimately had her hand more or less forced… he still didn’t want to be so powerless ever again.

He’d taken a wager, venturing back to civilization. He knew that. Admittedly, his only other real choice was to wander around the wilderness with a broken arm and a burned shoulder that was bound to get infected, but it was still a choice and a hope that he could find actually helpful people. Surely not everyone would be awful, would they? And it was true! He had gotten help from that one halfling leader, Ritina or whatever, and Aerfa. Even Tara had helped him out. There were good people here.

But he had never felt safe, never felt secure. To do that, he would have to become strong. How could he do that? He wasn’t sure about trying to expand and get even more skills. He should focus on what he could already do and build on that. Okay, so what did he even have?

Magical

Basic Mana Sense: 30, Mana Infusion: 59

Physical

Athletics: 27, Breathing: 20, Flexibility: 15, Nutrition: 16, Packing 5, Seeing: 19, Sleeping: 21, Survival: 17, Walking: 28

Mental

Polyglot: 21, Mathematics: 37, Research: 44, Visualization: 26

Combat

Bomb Throwing: 9

Utility

Firestarting: 29, Alchemy: 43, Outsider's Almanac: 64, Identify: 31, First Aid 17

…Well, it might not quite scream SCIENCE! to him, but it had everything he might need if he wanted to go that direction. Biology was First Aid, Mathematics for Physics, Alchemy for Chemistry. So, he could lean into that. Maybe he should really try and make Alchemy his primary Skill? Using it a lot would probably also help him level all of his apparently ungodly number of Skills. He would be an alchemist. And from what his Alchemy instincts were telling him, he would need materials. Lots of materials. Sure, he could make some basic magical ingredients with his Mana Infusion, but they were insufficient for… some reason. He’d need the blood of monsters, the leaves of magical plants, metals whose very essence was permeated with mana. That would be where his skill would shine, that would be where his strength could come from. And hey, as a bonus, he got to do his favorite things in the world: see cool stuff, especially if he went to find his own ingredients, and uncover the mysteries of the world. Science back on Earth was exciting and cool, and so well-established he could never make any sort of meaningful discovery on his own merits.

Here, though? The sky itself may not even be the limit. Maybe he would revolutionize the world!

Edwin sighed. Or, maybe not. He remembered what Tara had said, and what Rashin had said. To try and forge your own path, blind to the efforts of others, was foolish. Like back on Earth, anyone who tried to figure out how the world worked from just their own experimentation was doomed to fail. The people here had centuries of practice, centuries of trial and error to determine what sort of classes were good at what they did, and what sorts simply underperformed. It was, after all, only by standing on the shoulders of giants that we could see beyond the horizon.

But then again.

For centuries, it was common knowledge that plagues were the result of ‘bad air.’ Everyone ‘knew’ that the earth was the center of the universe. That excess blood caused disease. That stuff burned because of ‘phlogiston.’ It wasn’t until someone took those theories under the microscope, until they examined the ‘infallible’ wisdom of those who came before, that such theories were revealed to be nonsense. Why should it be any different here? Any of the wisdom he had heard might be wrong, or overly simplistic, or an intentional lie.

But, the little voice in his head said, they probably aren’t. You’ll never find a place here, just like back on Earth. You’ll never fit in, you’ll never stand out. Nobody here will ever accept you. You saw how Tara looked at you when she found out what you are. Like you were a monstrosity. If anyone finds out, you will be just as shunned here as back in college, as back in school. You’re just going to be­-

Edwin cut off the voice, pulling himself back from the brink once more. No. He wouldn’t let his doubts get in the way. He wouldn’t let fear rule his life.

Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing? It had returned, mocking him. You want to gain power because you fear being at the mercy of others.

That was different. This was a different world. He needed strength, he needed security. He-

Is a scared little kid, clinging for any sense of normalcy. You’ll never outrun your own nature, Edwin. It’s who you are.

He took that pessimistic voice of doubt and chained it up, locking it right next to his box about his feelings about leaving Earth. Something to deal with another day.

Fortunately, he was spared further wallowing in self-pity by a noise outside. Poking his head out revealed massive stone walls directly ahead of him, stretching as far as he could see in each direction. Figures the size of ants patrolled the top, and flocks of birds- no, not birds. Avior- circled far above him. On either side of the road, plain but sturdy-looking and well-constructed buildings and homes stretched along the wall. The smell was nowhere near as bad as he had expected, but still quite potent, the scent of thousands or hundreds of thousands of individuals living in close quarters.

Vinstead. They had made it.