A small farmhouse sat at the end of their march. It looked very normal in the way that only something abnormal can do. An old farmer with his sons worked the fields. An exceptionally fit old farmer with his seven athletic sons wielding their farming tools like any other farmers, ready to line up and face the world as a coordinated unit.

  “Your friends?” Ioha asked.

  “Don’t you have an expression in outworld? The enemies of my enemy.”

  Shit! Haldenvale spies. Not exactly friends of Derina’s. So he was betting on the men here hating Wergaist specifically. Ioha hadn’t learned enough federation history to know what Derina based those hopes on.

  The old man sauntered across the courtyard with a shovel in his hand. From the fields, the young men all congregated on Ioha and Derina.

  “How may I be of help?” the old man asked in a voice heavy with accent.

  Couldn’t you at least be trying? Ioha looked at Derina and prepared a grid with a full set of close range defences.

  “Gentlemen, could I interest you in killing some of Clevasti’s men?”

  Nice Derina! I love how smooth and subtle you are! Just in case, he prepared his inferno combination.

  “An odd proposition from a federation noble.” The accent vanished.

  Ioha released all his prepared magic abilities. Derina and the Haldenvale officer had both played their cards, and now the situation seemed defused.

  “I’m a good noble. Clevasti is a bad one.”

  “How so. I don’t even know which noble you are.”

  “I am,” Derina bowed deeply, and very flamboyantly at that. He was a cat, after all. “Derina Wari, spellsword superior.”

  “A Wari hatchling? Aren’t you a long way from home?” Despite the insult, the old man smiled, which bit a lot of the edge off.

  Derina stood with glittering eyes. He had way too much fun. “My sister’s guests were forcefully invited by the Clevastis. We need to rectify that.”

  Eyes scanning the path from which they had come, the old-timer smirked before he spoke. “And the rest of you?”

  “Just the two of us,” Derina guaranteed. “Preferably with a bit of help from you.”

  “Are you daft? The two of you plan to breach the Clevasti defences and fetch a group of non-combatants?”

  “Not a group. Just the two of them.”

  The man looked at his sons, well, the young men who pretended to be his sons. “Heard that? The kids plan to scale the Clevasti estate and whisk away two hostages.”

  “They’re kids,” one man said. He might even be as old as Derina. “You’ll die. Why?”

  Derina grinned. Ioha knew he set something up, but he didn’t know exactly what.

  “Because Sir Rede Ironsnake would be very unhappy if we didn’t try.”

  Rede? What kind of reputation did the greybeard have in Haldenvale for Derina to play that card?

  “Sir Ironsnake? On what grounds?”

  The faces of the men around them all said Rede’s reputation must be superb.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “Because Miss Verina would be unhappy with him if he didn’t.”

  A shadow of anger passed across the old man’s face. “Verina, how do you know her?”

  “Our teacher and colleague.”

  “He’s got a rapier,” one of the men said. “Might be true.”

  “Spellsword Academy,” another muttered. “Sir Ironsnake taught there last year at least.”

  “Explains the small kid,” the old man noted. He nodded at Ioha and his peculiar equipment. “The big oaf, your bodyguard?”

  It was time to play his own cards. “Yes, I am.” Ioha slung his shield onto his arm from his back and rapped it. “Stops things from hitting Derina over here.”

  “I’m so not standing where things can hit me,” Derina complained.

  “You’re so not standing where anyone can see you anyway,” Ioha quipped back. Good, he had caught on to what Ioha was doing.

  “You don’t sound like a henchman.”

  “Never said I was. Derina’s my senior from Spellsword Academy.”

  “You, a knight?” Old eyes walked all over his equipment.

  “I trained as a spellsword, yes.”

  The eyes got bigger. Broadsword, heater shield and brigandine contrasted just a tad with the perception of spellswords. The partisan strapped to his packhorse destroyed the picture even further.

  “Kid’s daft. Frontliner if he can tell one end of a pigsticker from the other.” That came from behind them.

  Ioha didn’t turn. There was no need. Just in case, he’d extended two mobile hard shields covering their backs when the greeting turned into bantering.

  “Aura user,” the old man said. That meant he was one as well, if he could feel Ioha manipulating his aura. “Don’t do anything stupid, kid!”

  Ioha added fireworks to his shields. “I said I trained as a spellsword. Never said I was one.”

  “That’s a shield, Sir!”

  “I told you not to try anything stupid. Well, spit it out. Who are you?”

  Bingo! “I am Sir Ioha Questingtank, protector of the line.” The saint part could wait.

  “A federation protector of the line?” the old man scoffed, but the tension eased a little.

  “An Isekai protector of the line,” Ioha corrected him.

  “Crap, he’s one of the maniacs?” The same voice from behind him.

  “You’re an Isekai noble?” The question from the old-timer came dripping with sarcasm. In essence, Ioha fully agreed with him. Nobles in Isekai were a dime a dozen and worth about as much, since the self-assigned titles were almost always a lie.

  He shook his head. “I’m a knight from Isekai, but my knighthood is divine.” Saying that back on Earth would have him cringe with shame and hide under a bed, but here he was simply stating a fact.

  Something tapped behind his back. “Sir, it actually is a shield.”

  “Protector of the line, huh. You heard that somewhere?”

  Damn, another full line! Mega bingo! “Yes. Sir Rede Ironsnake and Miss Verina called me that.” He tried to sound polite. It just made that bomb go off better.

  “Verina did?”

  “Yes. I hadn’t heard the expression earlier. Where I come from, we call my kind something different.” Eat shit! If he didn’t know, then Verina named his role of her own volition. Verina was Haldenvale, and Haldenvale still had tanks, or protectors of the line.

  “Prove it!”

  Ioha sighed. “I’d advise against it. I can’t heal others.” Some good old self-confident threatening couldn’t hurt.

  Someone opened the door to the farmhouse and came out. An old lady, possibly the real wife of the old man. “Stop harassing the kids!”

  I’ve heard that before. “You wouldn’t know Miss Verina?” The words left his mouth before he even had time to think.

  “How so?” Her voice was calm and reassuring. She sounded like the kind of schoolteacher you visit ten years later and offer a belated thanks for what she did when you were her student.

  Ioha bowed slightly. “Sorry, just the harassing the kids part. I apologise.”

  The lady burst out in a very unladylike guffaw. “She’s still making life miserable for you kids?”

  “Wouldn’t say miserable but…” Ioha murmured and let the sentence peter out before he said something really stupid.

  “Parine, they’re real. Invite them for a meal!”

  Everyone scrambled inside after that, and one of the youngsters even took care of their horses.