The silence following Oswald's grim assessment stretched taut. "But we're not prepared for a full-scale assault," he finally stated, the admission heavy in the tense air of the strategy room. He ran a hand through his short, greying hair, a gesture of frustration rather than thought. "Our current posture anticipates raids, skirmishes, standard goblin harassment activity. A coordinated, multi-pronged attack from the Dark Legion itself?" He shook his head sharply. "That requires a completely different level of response we are not prepared for. We must immediately reinforce the walls, allocate resources to weapon readiness, and inventory all available supplies. Most importantly…" He paused, his hard gaze sweeping the room, meeting each person's eyes in turn. "We need to request aid. Now. Send riders, the fastest we have, to Oakenfall, Silverbridge, every allied settlement within a two-day radius. And to the capital." His voice was flat, decisive. "We need reinforcements. Yesterday, preferably."
Lucas, ever the administrator, nodded sharply, already making mental lists. "Agreed. I'll draft the dispatches and select the riders immediately. The capital message is critical." He looked towards Julia and Edward. "You two should carry that one. A firsthand account from trusted Guild operatives detailing the coordination, the Tallenwood situation… it will convey the urgency far better than parchment alone." Logical resource allocation, William noted silently. Prioritizing high-bandwidth communication (riders for local alerts) and expert, firsthand testimony for central command authorization.
Edward met Julia's gaze across the scarred table. A silent communication passed between them, a shared understanding of the danger, the necessity, and an acceptance of the duty. Julia gave a single, almost imperceptible nod. Professionals accepting a high-risk assignment.
Lucas then turned his attention fully to William, his sharp eyes softening marginally, though the analytical assessment remained. "And you, young man," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "William, is it? Edward mentioned you encountered one of these… scouts. And Julia tells me you found yourself in the Tallenwood under rather… unusual circumstances."
William felt the focused scrutiny, the implicit question beneath the polite words. He hesitated, running a rapid risk analysis. Option A: Reveal Truth (Interdimensional transit via algorithm malfunction). Probability of Belief: <1%. Potential Consequences: Accusation of insanity, espionage, hostile magic; detention; resource drain. Option B: Maintain Cover Story (Lost traveller). Probability of Belief: Moderate (supported by Julia & Edward). Potential Consequences: Minor suspicion, categorization as low-priority asset. Decision: Option B presents significantly lower immediate risk. "I… yes, sir," he said, choosing his words with care, keeping his voice steady. "I was traveling with a merchant caravan. We were attacked, separated in the confusion… I became lost in the forest. The goblin attacked me near where Julia and Edward later found me." It was thin, but plausible enough in a world apparently accustomed to chaos on its borders.
Lucas studied him for a long moment, perceptive eyes seeming to weigh the simple explanation against William's out-of-place appearance and perhaps an undefinable 'otherness'. William felt like a flawed data set undergoing validation. Subject Lucas exhibits high perceptiveness. Probability of detecting information concealment: Moderate. Lucas gave a slow, noncommittal nod, apparently deciding to shelve the anomaly for now. Prioritization: Current crisis likely outweighs investigation of individual outlier. Tactical advantage: User avoids potentially compromising interrogation. "Fortunate indeed they found you," Lucas said finally. "The Tallenwood is no place for anyone unprepared, especially now." He paused, tapping a finger on the table. "Given your evident lack of… combat conditioning," a delicate understatement, "and the urgency of Julia and Edward's mission to the capital, I believe it best if you accompany them. You can provide any further details about the goblin's equipment or behaviour directly to the officers at the main Guildhall or the King's council. And once you are safely in Aver City… perhaps the Guild can find a non-combatant role where your skills might contribute. We need every mind, not just every sword-arm, in this fight."
A wave of profound relief washed over William, so potent his shoulders physically slumped. He'd been bracing for suspicion, interrogation, perhaps being locked away as an unknown variable. Instead, they were offering him… a task. A path forward. A way out of the immediate danger zone, a chance to contribute using his brain, and crucially, an opportunity to stay with Julia, his only potential guide into the bewildering system of magic. "Talk about an unexpected positive outcome," he thought, relief making him almost light-headed. "From data guru to goblin survivor to… diplomatic courier's assistant? Surprising career trajectory update."
"Thank you, sir," William said, the gratitude genuine and clear in his voice. "I appreciate the trust. I'll help in any way I can."
Oswald gave a curt, approving nod. "Good. Every hand to the pump. Intelligence, strategy, keeping the supply lines running… battles are won long before the first sword is drawn." "Well, that's reassuring," William thought. "Because my sword-drawing metrics are likely abysmal. Spreadsheet manipulation, on the other hand…"
Lucas clapped his hands together once, decisively shifting gears. "Right, then. Implementation phase. Edward, Julia, gather what you need for the journey to Aver City. You leave at first light. William travels with you. We'll see you have basic supplies, it won't be much, Sharwood's stores are stretched thin. For tonight, get food, get rest. You'll all need it."
The meeting broke, the room instantly buzzing with focused energy. Oswald was already barking orders at a waiting lieutenant, "Reyes! Double the watch intervals on the East Gate effective immediately! And get the stonemasons reinforcing the timber supports near the old breach!", while Lucas bent over the table, quill scratching furiously across fresh parchment, drafting the urgent dispatches.
Julia, Edward, and William made their way back down the creaking stairs, the sounds of the common room rising to meet them. The weight of their newly assigned mission, carrying word of the impending storm to the capital, settled upon them. The fragile bubble of relief William had felt upon reaching Sharwood had burst, replaced by the cold prickle of urgency. "Great," he thought grimly. "Just when you achieve relative safety, the system assigns a high-priority, time-sensitive quest involving travel through potentially hostile territory. Classic narrative structure."
They found a relatively secluded table in a corner, away from the loudest groups. Soon, bowls of steaming stew arrived, surprisingly flavourful, the gamey tang of the wolf meat Edward had butchered, mellowed by root vegetables and sharp herbs. It wasn't five-star dining, but compared to chewing on dried berries in a damp cave, it felt like a feast. "Who knew predator could be processed into palatable protein source so effectively?"
Around them, the Guild hall hummed. William listened, observing. Groups of adventurers shared tales, some boasting, some quietly grim. He overheard snippets: a near miss with swamp trolls, the exorbitant price of healing potions, rumours of strange lights seen over the mountains. Despite the undercurrent of war, there were bursts of laughter, rough camaraderie, arguments over shared loot, tankards slammed down in emphasis. A scarred woman with a bandaged arm was laughing loudly, recounting how she'd lost a wager and nearly her arm to what sounded like an oversized, ill-tempered amphibian. William found himself drawn in, less an outsider now, more an observer embedded within the system. When a nearby group discussed recent goblin sightings, he offered his own concise, data-driven description of the one he'd faced, noting its lack of armour and apparent scouting role. They listened with surprising interest, accepting his input without questioning his credentials. Interesting. Meritocracy based on relevant data contribution, perhaps? He felt a flicker of connection, a sense of shared purpose with these pragmatic, risk-taking individuals. "Just need to avoid accidentally mentioning interdimensional travel via predictive algorithm," he reminded himself dryly. "Might strain the credibility." He saw the resilience in their faces, the determination beneath the weariness, hope, not as a vague sentiment, but as a calculated decision to keep functioning despite unfavourable odds.
Later, exhausted but paradoxically energized by the food and the sense of community, William found the straw-filled pallet designated for him in a quiet corner of the common room. Lying down, the aches of his body made themselves known, but his mind raced, processing the day's chaotic data influx.
The Dark Legion. Neverus. The sheer scale of the threat, confirmed now, no longer just a nightmare echo. Julia, her quiet strength, her grasp of magic, a system he was now determined to understand, a system that might hold answers beyond his old world's physics. Edward, the warrior forged by loss, whose grudging respect felt strangely validating.
And then, his old life. The apartment, the glow of the monitors, the intricate beauty of the algorithm he'd poured two years into perfecting. It felt lifetimes away, a dataset from a deleted partition. Would he ever return? The question surfaced, but lacked its previous urgency. Would he even want to? This new reality was brutal, terrifying, constantly threatening system failure. But it was also… real. The challenges were immediate, the stakes absolute, the potential for making a tangible difference – for applying his analytical skills to problems of genuine consequence, was an unexpected, powerful draw. Comparative analysis: Old reality (stable, predictable, low-impact user function) vs. New reality (high-risk, high-uncertainty, potential for significant system impact/contribution). User preference: shifting towards New Reality parameters despite survival probability concerns. He was a stranger here, yes, caught in a conflict he was only beginning to parse. But he wasn't alone. He had allies. He had a direction (the capital). He had a new, absorbing field of study (magic). "Plus," he conceded with a final, weary smirk before sleep claimed him, "zero spreadsheets required for forest survival. That's a quantifiable benefit."
His thoughts swirled around mana pools, runes, and incantations. Awe, yes, but also a fierce determination. "Biggest challenge back home was optimizing database queries," he thought drowsily. "Here… it's figuring out the source code for reality itself." Lost in these ponderings, a complex mix of residual fear, budding hope, and intense analytical curiosity, William drifted off, his dreams inevitably filled with glowing symbols, strategic maps, and the ever-present, looming Shadow. He looked forward, despite everything, to the journey ahead.