The wagon carried by a Psionic wearing an exo-suit (painted into the colors of greenery with beautiful leaf ornaments) was the weirdest vehicle Zemin ever rode on—but at the same time it wasn't different from sitting in the back of an open truck.
The walls of the Exemplar base grew smaller and smaller. The team turned away from the main, well-maintained road and into a smaller off-shoot of it, the asphalt of which probably wasn't maintained since the Cataclysm.
Zemin sat next to Narcisa, opposite of Jagger and Danis. He leaned towards the woman and asked, "Why aren't we in a car?"
"It's easier like that. If we will need to move on foot later, this small truck can even be disassembled and taken with us… On Citri's back, of course. This much metal will break mine." Narcisa flicked her fingers at the metal side of the wagon.
"A moment of quiet, please," Jagger said. He took a walkie-talkie off his belt and flicked it on. "Citri, you hear us well?"
After a moment of static, Citri's laughter came through the dynamic.
"You are right behind my back, sergeant! I can hear you just fine without the radio. But keep the line on, it will be inconvenient for me to talk from the front."
"Got it. Now, time to explain where we are going, and why."
Everybody sat straighter and watched him with rapt attention.
"Demons have been making raids on settlements north of Maplemend village—far enough from the official frontier zone for an alarm. The leadership suspects that they have created a new base of operations in that area and gather slaves in it for further transportations deeper into demon territories. Aerial reconnaissance brought no results—they are hiding well."
Zemin clenched his fists. Again, demons were running free, making children orphans… Or worse.
"Our job is to find the hidden demon base, note its defenses, and report back. No direct engagement with the enemy—it's best if they don't know that we are here at all. But if it's necessary, we are authorized to kill a demon… or a dozen." Jagger smiled. "There will be enough left to burn for our brave Soldiers."
"Sneaking and spying. A job for me, then," Danis said, leaning on the side of the wagon. "What about the rewards? The rating points?"
"Greed is a sin," Narcisa said wryly.
Zemin joined Danis. "I want to know, too, sir!"
"Me too!" Citri's voice came from the walkie-talkie.
"No need to hound me, gremlins," Jagger mumbled. "This mission is considered 'easy', so 20 rating points for each of you and 25 for me. This might change after the final report is delivered!"
'Void System, remind me the ratings… Mine and everybody's.'
Jagger was on a separate ladder, where people had more rating points. But the amount of points Narcisa had was a surprise for Zemin when he saw it at first.
She must've been an Esquire for a long time, unlike Danis and Citri.
"We don't spend rating points on anything, right?" Zemin asked. "We just get them and then we can request things from the warehouses."
"That's right, Zemin!" Citri replied. "We only lose points for failing the Holy Dominion, breaking the law, or if we become Exemplars. And Exemplars lose points if they get rewarded on a yearly ceremony—so everybody would have a chance."
"Enough chatter," Jagger cut in. "The location of the last demon raid isn't far. We will go there, and try to track the demons—if they took prisoners, they would have the hard time hiding themselves. If we hurry, we might even intercept them. So we better hurry, Citri. Walk faster. No, better run."
"Yes, sir!"
The mecha went from a steady jog into a run without warning. Danis clutched the wagon's side with a loud curse, and Zemin was thrown at Narcisa.
Her soft body made a great pillow, with two big, soft cushions in front.
"Fuck, you are all elbows and sharp weaponry, boy. Citri, warn us next time!" Narcisa hissed, pushing Zemin away.
Zemin hurriedly sat back in his spot, feeling himself blushing. He wished he wasn't wearing his combat equipment at the time—the protective vest alone blocked most of the sensation. "I apologize."
After this, Zemin held tight, and whenever the wagon jumped on another fissure in old asphalt, didn't fall onto anyone else.
***
They reached the place before the dark—a small village, so much like the one Zemin grew in. Now a part of it was reduced to smoking rubble.
A squad of soldiers and medics were helping the survivors of the attack, commanded by an angel surrounded by cold and sharp radiance.
"An Exemplar squad to help us?.. No, most of you are Esquires. Almost all of you," was the angel's greeting. "A bunch of greenhorns and their nanny. I will pray for you to find the attackers, because there's no way you will succeed without God's help."
Zemin was struck speechless. This was the first time he met an angel so hostile. He was worse than Danis! Other angels he had met could be distant—they were busy creatures, of course—but this was far from it.
"Um… Thank you for your prayers, sir," Jagger said, looking as shocked as Zemin was. "Will you point us in their direction, though? Tell us something about their numbers?"
"They went northwest, this is all I can say with surety. The rest was hidden under the cover of the night—you've been way too late for this battle."
"Thank you again, sir. Then we will be on our way. To not be even later," Jagger added bitterly.
Northwest. After half an hour of riding in this direction, fields and trees gave way to a much darker picture.
The group entered the Glassed Fields, and their target's trail disappeared within its endless reflections.