Faux Morality and Responsibilities pt 2

((Book 1 if this is your first time here: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BZZBHBMF?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_0&storeType=ebooks

Book 2 if you want to read ahead: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0CBZR49Q7?notRedirectToSDP=1&ref_=dbs_mng_calw_1&storeType=ebooks))

The General ran off in the direction of the gathered group.

"I'll get all the able-bodied men I can find, and bring them here. We just have to hold out until help arrives, right?"

"Bring the women too." Nyt calls, "We need as many as we can get."

The Ir turns to me.

"It'll take about two hours for a force that large to get to us; according to the reports they're still pretty far down on the path up. Until then, ready some defenses."

Two hours? I estimate that it would probably take 5 hours for those coming up from the hunting lodge, 5 and a half if the apostle left any rear guards. So we'd have to hold out for 3 or 3 and a half hours, or about the time until the sun rose. Nyt runs out as the two Efrans followed after. I hop up on the walls. A walkway sat right behind the wooden palisade, while the palisade itself stood about fifteen feet off the ground. It was only with a strong jump, and digging my claws into the wood that I was able to scramble up and over. I hop down and see what I can do. First, I suppose...

I spend thirty minutes raising up a wall of spikes pointed toward the woods. Large spikes, about as thick around as the wooden logs make up the outpost's walls. I build them about fifteen feet from the end of the wall, and another wall, of smaller earthen spikes, right at the base of the wall. Both of these walls stretch from the beginning of the climb up to the watchtower at the top of the hill, and down to the banks of the lake, and as William suggested, I leave a small gap that leads right to the wall. To funnel in the much larger force. I have to stop for five minutes in the middle of it to stop the throbbing headache, so all in all it took thirty-five minutes. By then both the General and Nyt were ordering the forces.

"Who here has ever used a bow?"

Nyt addresses the humans. Evidentially none of them raise their hands, judging by the heavy sigh the Ir makes.

"So here's how we'll do things so no one gets hurt..."

At the same time, the General began talking to the Efrans (thanks, apparently, to a spell that Nyt cast on him), about asymmetrical warfare and its usefulness in harassing larger forces.

"Alright, me and a couple of you more harden lads will go off into the woods and..."

I couldn't catch anything more than that. As I was setting up the wall of spikes the general, and a group of about fifteen headed out into the woods. The general had them all smear thick mud over their faces, and the last I see them, they were tearing branches off of the trees to further their camouflage. Each of them carries weapons. The General himself holds a spear out in front of him.

What else could I do, other than this? Trenches? Yes, I think that's it. But not just anywhere. For ten minutes I use the spell Create Hole on the ground right beyond the gap I created. By the end, the hole is tens of feet deep. At the bottom, I create several smaller spikes. A punji trap, I make several smaller ones around what would become the battleground for the next thirty minutes. Nothing too deep; the deepest being four feet. I feel these with spikes as well. For the next thirty minutes after that, I take my time covering them with torn branches, and dust-covered cloths.

"Is that all?" Nyt asks as I hop back into the outpost, clutching my head and waiting for the mana lock to fade.

"Yeah," I answer. "All I can really think of."

I look over the forces. A little over 250 people within the wall. 100 some odd Efrans; about half of which were armed with bows, and the others with melee weapons. 50 humans were armed with melee weapons, my father and the presumed leader of the penned slaves together among them. A few women are gathered as well, and some of the older children were strong enough to pick up and stab with a pike.

One of the ex-prisoners approaches me.

"Why are we here? Don't you know forced conscription is immoral?"

"Who cares." I say, "We're in a war. Idiot."

"Uhhhh, so war gives you the right to act immoral?"

"Do you not want to survive?"

"Uhhhhhhhh, of course, I do, that's why brutes like you," He jams his finger in my chest, "Are around to do the fighting. You have powers so it's your responsibility, don't you know the phrase, 'with great power comes great responsibility,' huh?"

"I can't defeat an army on my own. And we're only holding out until reinforcements come."

"Uh, so why are we—"

An arm grabs him from behind and throws him to the ground. The man who had protected his child with his body stands there.

"Do you know this man can probably kill you with a single punch? Why are you so intent on angering him."

The worm-like man scrambles to his feet and attempts to throw a punch at the tall, thin, well-muscled man who easily deflected the telegraphed attack.

"I'm NOT instigating him." He shouts, "I'm EDUCATING him."

I place a firm hand on the shoulder of the annoying man after taking a deep breath.

"Look. I know you're scared. I am too, but it's something we all MUST do."

The man rolls his eyes.

"And why MUST we do it? Because you're too weak? That's YOUR problem, not—"

I put an immense amount of pressure on his shoulder.

"Okay, okay, geez. What separates you from those slave drivers if you're just going to apply force to make us do what you want anyways. At least with them, we were fed, and alive."

There are very rare cases where I think a person was a lost cause, but I strongly begin to suspect it's the case here.

"Just stay in line, and you'll go home alive."

"Whatever." He scoffs loudly and gets back in line.

"He's going to stab us in the back. First chance he gets." The man utters as he watches him leave. "I don't think I've introduced myself, I'm Joel Valencia. Former Green Beret."

"Green Beret? Huh? Well, we'll be counting on your knowledge." I say.

After having faced death hundreds of times, I feel less affected by titles like that than I have in the past.

"Heh, thanks. The General put me in charge of the humans. I'll try my best, but really. We're all counting on you. You're a good man, Lawrence."

"How do you mean?"

"I heard from the General, that these pathways into our world close whenever you finish a certain task, and what the task for this one was."

"Ah."

"I think anyone else in your situation would have just ended up abandoning the people here. "

"I don't think s—"

"I would have. And I have. Many times." He says with some shame.

"Ah."

"Yeah."

How the hell do I respond to that?

Before I have a chance to, a sharp whistle comes from the woods.

"They're here," Nyt says.

At least I don't have to.