Chapter 177: Kids will be Kids
"How in Void's name did the Nighty Knights manage to find something to kill?" Bee asked in shock. "They're only seven years old at most!"
Both Susan and Tony looked at each other.
"Um. Well, you see," Tony stammered.
Susan eventually cut him off and tried her best to explain. "Well, we've had a bit of a problem with some undead coming at the gates at night, and apparently, a few of the watch trainees had assisted the Knights in climbing up the wall and throwing rocks down on them. This was how the initial levels happened, but... it's gotten a bit out of hand since then.
"As far as I know, no one's actually managed to get their first class yet. But once they got skills, they've been leveraging those to get the younger members kills from the wall as well. This is getting the kids levels well before they really know what to do with them. So far, none have picked any bad skills that I know of. But I don't know how long that will last. I think the youngest person to have gotten a skill was... three, maybe? But I'm not certain."
Bee rubbed her head in frustration. She hadn't figured out what she wanted to do with the kids before she had left. Worse, she really hadn't had any time to think about it since then. Why bother when they were so young? There should have been plenty of time before this happened. But it seemed that Void had his own plans for them. At least, she sure hoped her master did. If they waited a little bit, she would help them ensure that Devotee of Spot was one of their options, but they might not even need that. If they got a better class from killing undead while they were still young, then she shouldn't change it.
The system usually handed out classes based on achievements, and she couldn't think of anything more impressive for their age than killing undead. But whether or not the system recognized age as an adjustment was still uncertain, according to some scholars.
"Well, I suppose if nothing's too bad, I can always fix it with the devotee class... Even if they ended up with some useless skills." Not that any skill was particularly useless. But without a direction in one's life, which was rather rare to have at three years old, they might end up being off target from what they really wanted.
"So, Susan, why weren't their parents able to stop them or something?"
"We tried. We told them not to go up there, many times. Yet somehow, they managed to work together to distract us long enough to get up and get those first kills. They're really figuring out how to work as a unit." Susan shrugged. "After that, a lot of the skills they developed were... well, unusual."
"Unusual how?" she asked.
Still, he was impressed by the god. He asked good questions at times, ones that reflected a deeply intellectual mind. And if he learned more about the ways of humanity and decided that their race was worth saving instead of exterminating for being too unclean, he felt that they were in good hands. If they had to be in some divine hands, at least.
After the Hot Springs incident, things had been relatively calm. If anything, they'd been a little bit too calm. He expected more fights amongst men, or reports of disorderly conduct, or something to go wrong, but none of that had appeared. He had a full two and a half days with not a single report of misbehavior or corrective action having come across his desk. And that was honestly starting to get on his nerves a little bit.
It felt like the calm before the storm. He wasn't sure how much of this was because he avoided being a young guard and over-exerting his influence. Maybe it was because of the god. It was too hard to tell. Arthur put his quill down and rubbed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. The reports were mostly done, and he was looking forward to going to bed. At his age, a long day of marching and writing still took a toll on him, even with his high stats.
As he began to stand, an aide burst into his tent with a familiar concerned look on his face. "Sir. You had better come right away. There's been a murder."
—-
Following the tracks through the camp was surprisingly easy. It was late at night, and I had cleaned the path they were on not that long ago. There were other footprints crisscrossing the trail, but those were easily filtered out. It wasn't until they went to the mess hall that things were harder to follow.
There they mixed with many other people going in for food at odd hours, depending on when their duty would allow. But even then, I had cleaned less than half an hour ago there, so I just simply combed through every single set of footprints until I found a clue. Turns out I didn't actually find them going the same direction, but rather each set splitting off to go different ways. These two people appeared to have moved into the mess hall together but left it separately.
I wondered why that would be. Was it because they were in different units and slept in different places, or were they actively trying to throw anyone off their trail? I wasn't sure which one to follow. It seemed that either one of them could lead me to one culprit. But then, would the other be able to escape? It was a risk I'd have to take.
Picking a random number between 1 and 2, I ended up following the large man's footprints. They were slightly more distinctive than the average-sized man, so it did make it a little bit easier. But that also meant it would be harder for me to track down the other man later.
A few feet out of the door, I decided that I probably should have made a smarter choice than just picking a random number and doubled back to follow the average man instead. He had made his way through the camp and what looked to be a meandering path, often stopping at the tents' entrances for some reason. After a good 20 minutes of walking, he went into a tent that he had not come out of yet.
Quietly as I could, I floated closer to the tent. From outside, I sensed that the man wasn't alone. There were three others in the tent with him. Two were sleeping, one was tossing and turning, and the final man was taking off his shoes. It seemed that he was likely the one who came in last.
I scanned him as well as I could from the outside of the tent. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any definitive proof until I looked at his belt. There was a dagger that perfectly matched the wound from the victim, and I would bet a week's worth of cleaning time that if I looked at it more closely, I would find traces of blood that I could match with a sample.
It didn't seem like he was going anywhere, so I placed a marker for this location on my internal map of the camp. I also marked his soul with a little plus symbol for good measure. Then, I went to go track down his accomplice.