Sealed in Steel [ Tank Litrpg ]

"Look yonder, esteemed Penitent!" Maveron yelled over the thunder of hooves. Elian, riding behind Maveron, could barely hear his words. "See the towers of Golden Grove!"

We've arrived earlier than expected, Elian thought.

Early morning of the day after meeting the Sabyn Twins, Elian joined the Grovenians returning to Golden Grove. Gideon stayed behind to wait for the ingredients for Viney's cure. Moreover, the undrawn carriage would be terribly slow compared to the horses running at full speed. They needed to get to Golden Grove quickly to prepare its defenses, not knowing when the shadow beasts would return for a huge attack.

Since the Grovenians didn't have any spare horses—they actually lacked some, killed by shadow beasts—Elian rode with Maveron. The Grovenians pushed their steeds hard, only stopping for short breaks to eat; the horses drank potions for stamina. At night, they only had a few hours of sleep, using lantern orbs to light their way.

"We shouldn't have followed the shadow beasts to Sabyn Mountain," Maveron told Elian last night. "My mind was clouded with an irrational focus to hunt them down. In our absence, more shadow beasts could've attacked. Our remaining forces would be hard pressed in their defense of the town."

"The negative energies affected your judgment," Elian replied.

"It is my fault that I let it be so. I was… I was so certain we could stop them from healing and return to Golden Grove in time to defend against further attacks. It is on my shoulders if there are more casualties while we were away."

Elian wanted to offer comforting words, but he felt the same. It wasn't his fault that people died during the riots at the Temples of Tribulation and or during the shadow beasts' attack on Golden Grove. However, by changing events, unintended consequences arose. There were no more retries. He had to accept that there would be mistakes, that bad things would happen beyond his control, and they would be permanent. He had to move on from these thoughts, or else he couldn't focus on the present and do what was needed to be done.

By noon of the third day of their travel, they were finally in sight of Golden Grove.

Elian surveyed the left and the right of the paved road. Thousands of tree stumps dotted the rolling hills. The only trees left were the younger ones that couldn't be used for building or kindling. The Grovenians were very thorough in clearing the forest. Ahead, Elian saw what all the wood was for. Outside the impressive walls of Golden Grove were rows of wooden houses, an expansion for its booming population.

Well, they used to be houses. A few remained intact. Most of them have been turned into matchsticks or blackened by a gooey substance that looked like tar. Small craters and deep furrows pockmarked the area of the houses.

Must've been quite a battle, Elian thought as he eyed the warrior Grovenians around him. Golden Grove was quite a wealthy town if it could maintain this bunch of skilled fighters and their equipment. Could have something to do with the magical trees in their vicinity.

How long would that wealth last? Not very long, knowing what happened in the original timeline.

When Elian talked with Maveron yesterday, he realized something while they discussed the forces of the shadow beasts that attacked the town. The beasts were plenty, but weren't enough to overcome the town's defenses and wipe it out in one go. They should need three times the number with even larger monsters mixed in.

"If the shadow beasts had stayed longer in the Dark Forest," Maveron said, "we'd be in more trouble."

"Looking for a bright side in this situation," Elian said, "it's much better that they moved when they did than later."

In the original timeline, Thalman escaped or got moved much later, giving the Lost Souls time to marinate into stronger shadow beasts. That was why Golden Grove was easily destroyed in a single night, giving no time for people to escape, instead of getting whittled down like what was happening now.

"That is where the shadow beasts entered the town." Maveron didn't need to point it out to Elian because the destroyed section of the wall was quite wide. Several men worked to build a smaller stone wall to plug the gap. They also placed wooden spikes pointing outwards in front of the hastily built wall.

The working men cheered when they saw the Grovenian riders approaching.

"There doesn't seem to have been any more attacks while you were gone," Elian said, noting that none of the spikes were broken.

"I pray to the Storm God that is true. It'll be on my shoulders if—"

"Didn't we have this conversation already? You've already say that you'll regret going to Sabyn Mountain. We can't turn back time, so drop it. Your mind will go on spirals if you continue to dwell on that," Elian told Maveron as much as himself. "And if you didn't follow the shadow beasts, you wouldn't have met me."

"True words, esteemed Penitent," Maveron said, laughing boisterously as he pulled the horse to a trot. "Welcome to our humble town. May your presence aid us in its defense."

"Doesn't look so humble to me," Elian muttered as the thick wooden gates with metal bars swung open to let them in.

Inside, the town was as packed as could be. Even the main road that ran from the front of the town to the back, where a small castle stood, was lined with crates and makeshift shops and even tents. Everyone who used to live outside the walls had moved inside. The buildings were tall and proud, with shared living quarters above the busy shops on the first floor. There were small churches and shrines to different deities. A sickly sweet miasma permeated the air as cookhouses and bakeries wafted inviting scents, mixed with the unpleasant stench that came as a result of so many people occupying a space too small to properly house them. Modern plumbing was not a thing on Fellenyr.

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The crowd parted as Maveron and his men traversed the main road, and more cheers greeted their arrival. Some people pointed at Elian, probably thinking he was some sort of expert whom they had hired.

The town did appear to hire mercenaries because he spotted several armed men in uniform armor mingling with the crowds. On their pauldrons was painted a blue roc with its wings flared—the Azure Roc Company. They were quite a famous mercenary band, with several groups scattered throughout the continent. As far as Elian could tell, each group of the Azure Roc Company was independent from each other, founded by the original members who split up several years ago. They carried the same name and symbol only for recognition and prestige—all of them had a reputation for loyalty to the coin, diligently fulfilling their duties that were paid for.

Azure Roc Company mercenaries were present during the siege of Antillar, where Hinter had died. Those mercenaries could be the same ones here. Elian couldn't really recall their faces; he barely interacted with them back then. But if they were the same people, that meant they hadn't been present when Golden Grove was destroyed in the previous timeline.

"They weren't here when we left," Maveron said, guessing what Elian was looking at. "The Lord must've reached out for their services to bolster our forces. Part of me welcomes their aid. The other part is ashamed of our inadequacy."

"You didn't think much of inadequacy when you asked for my help. I'm considered a mercenary, too, since you're pay me."

Maveron laughed. "You always seem to know the right things to say, esteemed Penitent. I'm eager to introduce you to Lord Gustall. He should be able to see that the lone mercenary I brought along is much stronger than many of the Azure Roc Company he hired."

Lord Gustall was waiting in the courtyard of his castle. A short and stocky man, around ten years Maveron's senior, the lord of Golden Grove assessed Elian with cold, calculating eyes. He scratched his square chin with fingers adorned with gem-encrusted rings. "This man is a Penitent of the Temples of Tribulation?" he asked Maveron. "A stone band with the fist symbol wraps around his wrist, but I have not heard of his name before… Elian Ward of Gilders. Nothing rings in my memory. How can you claim he's reliable?"

"He caught my blade with his bare hand!" exclaimed Maveron. "I enchanted my sword to weigh as much as three men, its sharpness increased a hundred-fold, and my strength by twenty. And you know, dear cousin, I am fully capable of cutting half a dozen men in one swing without enchantments. However, the palm of this esteemed Penitent was unscathed after stopping my strike!"

Unscathed? Elian had a wound back then. It was shallow, but he was still cut. Maveron was doing some sales-talking with his cousin here.

"I will believe it when I see it," said Lord Gustall with squinted eyes.

"I know you'd say that, my lord," Maveron said. "But instead of striking our guest and ally, I propose that you witness his Tribulation." Maveron and Elian nodded at each other. They had talked about this.

Elian couldn't skip his Tribulation while with the Grovenians. He could distance himself from the group when calling for it, but decided to let them see it. It'd increase their respect for him; he did look very impressive while doing it. And he'd predicted he'd need to show his prowess to Lord Gustall. Might as well see how Maveron and his men reacted to it first—they were impressed, to say the least. They were in awe of the hand-shaped crater left behind by Tribulation, scrutinizing the compacted dirt like children playing in a sandbox.

"The heavens struck you twice, esteemed Penitent," Maveron said after his first time seeing it. "Why is that so, if it isn't too intrusive to inquire? I have heard that the Lesser Tribulation descends only once, and the Greater, many times. Are you an Enlightened Penitent?"

"I'm not," Elian replied. "A long way to go until I reach a Greater Tribulation. But it's not only a Greater Tribulation that can strike more than once. It's a special type of Tribulation. Stronger, but gives more rewards. Only a few Lesser Penitents can call for this Tribulation, even fewer that do. It adds significant danger."

Elian explained it nonchalantly, giving a mysterious air with vague details. He gambled that Maveron didn't know the specifics of the Magistrate's Boon. Given that a Penitent, seemingly an expert one at that, was explaining things, Maveron had no choice but to believe the explanation.

"Most impressive show, esteemed Penitent, and quite deserving of the stone band you wear. My lord cousin would certainly be of the same mind."

"I like your suggestion, cousin of mine," said Lord Gustall. It was time for Elian to execute his impress-the-lord plan. Lord Gustall waved his hand at his attendants. "Make space for the Penitent! Move away these horses and that wagon. Clear the bales. Let us stand to the side as witnesses. Come, everyone!"

A lot more audience than I expected, Elian thought as he started to strip.

Lord Gustall and Maveron were talking, but they were too far away to hear. Maveron must be explaining that Elian was doing this to prove himself. Some of the ladies giggled and pointed at Elian. A stern elderly lady in fine jewelry scolded them. Cooks and maids working inside the castle also spilled out after hearing there was a spectacle in the courtyard.

Elian was down to his undergarment, secured tightly around his waist, as he walked to the middle of the courtyard with his Warkodon mace in hand. He brought the mace to make sure he'd be as unblemished after the Tribulation as could be. Plus, something was intimidating about a half-naked man with an ivory mace. It added to his mystery.

One of the things he learned about nobles was that they were entertained by the bombastic and the unknown. Elian was giving Lord Gustall a presentation he'd like.

Instead of kneeling, as was his usual pose, Elian stood straight as dark clouds gathered overhead.

This is going to hurt my head and shoulders, he thought with clenched jaws. But sacrifices needed to be made for a good show. First impressions mattered. He didn't even construct Aether armor.

"I, Penitent Elian Ward of Gilders, present myself for Tribulation!"

A deafening crash echoed in the courtyard. An immense force hit the top of Elian's head, making him bow. Neck muscles strained. His shoulders were hammered down, joints protesting from the weight. He tensed his core and back muscles, clenching everything he could. He locked his knees to stop himself from kneeling as the Tribulation fell. His bare feet sank into the ground.

The second Tribulation came, bringing more hurt. But not so much. Elian endured it as he stood strong. He got hammered into the ground even more.

After the Tribulation, he straightened himself, chin held high as he observed an awestruck Lord Gustall. Except for Maveron and his men, the rest of the people watching had their mouths open. This must be the first time they had seen a Tribulation.

Elian stepped out of the holes made by his feet. "Is it satisfactory, my lord?"

"Splendid! Splendid!" Lord Gustall raised his arms over his head and clapped like an excited seal. The other nobles animatedly chatted amongst themselves, gaining heart that they had a formidable warrior helping them. Maveron had a wide grin on his face like a proud father.

"You will be of great aid to us, Penitent," said Lord Gustall. "We will give you our finest room to stay, food and drinks, and even women to entertain you until the shadow beasts come. You will be paid your fair share of coin for your services. Rest and be merry, for tonight is the battle."

Elian bowed. "I will not rest, my lord. I won't wait for the night to come. The preparation is ongoing, and I will do my best to help now. I'll head to the walls and see what I can contribute. Penitents have extensive knowledge in defense."