The Isekai Police [Books 1 + 2 Complete!]

The group trekked across the wide dirt road out of town and towards their destination. Riding on the high of the mystery and wonder of going to an honest-to-goodness magic school, the two sub-groups were content to chat amongst themselves.

Tommy hit Xerica with a barrage of questions about what they could expect, which she responded with what Artyom could only call, well…

"What kind of magic do they teach there?"

"All kinds known to the kingdom! There are classes for just about everything there."

"What kind of magic do you think I could learn and use?"

"That depends on what you have an affinity for. They'll be able to check over there."

As those two continued their back and forth, with the other two women standing to the side and politely nodding along with the conversation, Artyom and Neitra whispered amongst themselves at the back of the group.

"I don't want to say it out loud," said Neitra. "But now that I think about it, I hope we don't have to stick around for too long. Even if that means Tommy and I don't get the chance to learn magic."

Artyom looked over to her with a cocked eyebrow.

"The longer we stay, the longer the war against the Dark Lord goes on. We need to collect all the armor pieces before Tommy can put a stop to him. We could always come back once we've won."

Rotte however had no such conniptions about keeping quiet. He walked ahead of Artyom and Neitra and cleared his throat, getting the others' attention. "Hey hero, you still have a job to do, so don't get distracted!" he shouted in a huff.

Everyones' conversations went silent.

Tommy blinked before opening his mouth and shouting back, "Don't I deserve a break too? Mind your own business!"

"Oh sure, go ahead," he said with a shrug. "It's not like my family died while you were taking one. Oh wait!"

If it was quiet before, it was as if the concept of sound itself was murdered by the atom bomb Rotte dropped.

Neitra, bless her heart, was the only one brave enough to try and test the waters with a whisper into Artyom's ears. "I thought they already made up, what's going on?"

Artyom didn't have a response.

Nobody did.

If anything, Artyom expected Tommy to run off like the last time he was confronted about this, but to the hero's credit he stood his ground. "We're moving as fast as we can, but you're going to work us to death! We need to rest too so we can actually put up a fight. And Lensa already left the party to protect people! What more do you want?!"

Artyom threw an aura ping at Rotte and received only blistering rage. If it wasn't already obvious from his posture and expression, that just sealed the deal that whatever was about to come out of his mouth wouldn't be constructive.

And the three others surrounding Tommy looked ready to pounce on the boy if whatever came out of his mouth next didn't meet their standards. And the last time one of their number pounced, Artyom and Neitra barely made it out alive.

Artyom quickly placed a hand on Rotte's shoulder and filled him with a quick burst of calming aura, just enough to get him to snap him out of the worst of his temper. "Hey, everything alright? Where did that come from?" he quickly whispered into the boy's ear. "Maybe just apologize for the outburst, if only to keep the peace."

"No way," he whispered back, finally noticing the angry looks he was getting from the others. It wasn't enough to force deference out of him, but it made him wary of what he was saying. "He's acting like a little kid when he's got the most important job in the world to do!"

"Yeah, so don't give him even more pressure," hissed Artyom. "Neitra and I are keeping him on track, and breaks are important so you don't burn out and overall move more slowly."

Rotte grumbled at that, but kept his mouth shut.

Tommy and the others around him did as well, but the tension between the two groups was palpable as they stared each other down. One versus four, but Rotte's righteous indignation was holding its ground.

"Hey, the sun is starting to set," said Neitra, running up and interrupting everyone. "Everyone must be getting hungry because it's almost dinner time."

The rest of the party looked towards the horizon, which was beginning to turn a shade of red. The kaleidoscopic sun's shards of green and silver light were also beginning to shift towards teal and gold.

"I suppose this would be a good place to make camp," said Xerica, stepping in between Tommy and Rotte while pointing everyone to a flat clearing off the side of the road.

Everyone broke off without another word, letting the recent argument be forgotten, as they began to set up for the night.

"Alright, I'll start gathering some firewood," said Tommy as he began to walk towards the nearby woods.

"Hold on," replied Artyom. "It's too dangerous for you to go out there, find something else to do in camp instead."

The hero visibly pouted, but to his and even Artyom's surprise, the rest of the party didn't back him up.

"Come on, Xerica, aren't you going to say anything? I've gotten the firewood plenty of times!"

The redhead hesitated. "Yes, but with Lensa not with the team anymore, we shouldn't take too many undue risks without a dedicated healer."

Tommy pouted even harder, but eventually sighed and accepted the decision, walking over to bother Ecole instead.

Neitra, setting up her own tent in the opposite corner of the camp next to Rotte, sidled over to Artyom and asked, "Are you scared for him too now that Lensa's gone?"

"It's not that," he replied, shaking his head. "I'm not going to send him out into the wilderness alone when he could get attacked by the enemy."

"Enemy?!" exclaimed Neitra, getting her looks of surprise from the rest of the camp, who quickly settled down when they realized it wasn't a warning. "What enemy? I know the Dark Lord's warbands have been avoiding the party and especially Tommy, so that isn't the issue. And he's strong enough to keep himself safe from wild animals, even bears."

"Look, Tommy needs to be kept safe, and you never know what other enemies he might have, and what might happen out in the wilderness."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Hey, wait a minute!" said Rotte with flushed cheeks. "I was angry at Tommy back then, but I'd never try attacking him! What good would that do? Worst case, it would help the Dark Lord win the war, and then what happened to my village would happen to everyone!"

Artyom let out a sigh. "I'm not talking about you, just… others. Others who never think more about their pain beyond getting revenge, consequences be damned."

His eyes began to cloud as they looked back to a time long past…

A chill wind blew through the canopies, throwing autumn leaves into the air as they fell around the two travellers. Twilight kissed the trail they walked, but an inn lay just an hour away, so they kept moving.

One of them was a young man who had a stride in his step. He was dressed in bright leather armor, covered with a linen traveler's cloak. The man next to him was older, easily in his late twenties, and wore what could generously be described as a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants.

"Are you sure you don't want to leave this world, Chet?" asked Artyom. "TOAL has classified it as Gilded. Even if it seems nice and pretty on the surface, it's actually dangerous and unforgiving."

"Not to say I don't appreciate the offer," replied Chet with a cocky grin. "But I've been having a great time and I'm strong enough to face off against any danger!"

"That's because you've been living alongside royalty and got anything you asked for. But all you have is basic training and your biggest accomplishment is wiping out a cave full of goblins."

"And I'm still stronger than anyone else back on Earth! I've got thirty levels here! All because I'm the hero. Who or what could possibly be a danger to-"

Chet was interrupted by a whistling sound that came from the woods. It started quietly, but got closer, until…

Artyom pulled the young man out of the way of a knife that almost struck him. It kept going until it hit the side of the trail with a dull thud. The ground beneath it began to sizzle as a virulent poison dripped off of the weapon.

A large group of men and women, two dozen strong and clad fully in black, jumped out of the treeline and made a beeline for the two travelers.

Chet immediately pulled out his sword and stared them down with the same cocksure attitude, but Artyom stepped in front of him and told him to guard their rear, much to the younger man's chagrin.

Artyom was able to get half a dozen Gravity Lances out before they reached, and took out all but one of his targets. The last one survived, but lost use of their left arm.

The rest each pulled out a shortsword and swung at the group.

"[Great Parry]!" shouted Chet as his own sword met every single other one coming at the two, and deflected them with ease. "See, no danger at all!"

And then the half a dozen ninjas behind them struck.

"[Heavy Fist]" whispered Artyom, activating his own Skill obtained in this world to turn his hands into something tougher than a block of steel, and began slapping away the swords aimed at Chet. "I told you to watch our backs!"

"I didn't think they'd try a sneak attack," he pouted.

"There's fucking ninjas, what did you expect?!"

The main enemy group readied a second attack, but the young man hesitated. "Uh, Artyom? I need to wait for my parry Skill to recharge."

Artyom swore to himself and activated another Skill. [Read Movements]. When combined with his Aura, he was able to instinctively tell exactly where every blow was going to land.

The man's fists moved like a flowing river, intercepting each sword strike and sending the wielder a step back in singular fluid motions with each hand.

But even with his supposed martial prowess, he quickly realized he wasn't the intended target. He was all but ignored as the ninjas focused all their efforts, all their ire, onto Chet. As if commanded by the same one-track mind, they all collectively decided that the young man had to die.

"Hey, this is going to feel a little unpleasant," said Artyom before channeling his magic.

"What do you mean-" Chet said before a weightlessness began to settle around his body. At first he was confused, but then things started making sense when he could no longer feel the ground beneath his feet.

"Sonic Waverider," said Artyom before his form began to blur. It shot off towards the nearest ninja, who was about to strike Chet but had lost his balance as he flew a foot up into the air. Artyom's hand intersected their body, right into their heart, before he pulled it out and jumped to the next one.

In the time Chet took to blink, another three ninjas were already hemorrhaging blood from where their heart used to be and Artyom was already on another group.

By the time the young man got enough of his bearings to even breathe again, the gravity spell had ended and they were all back on the ground; all of the ninjas dead.

"T-that… that was awesome!" shouted Chet, once he was certain the danger had finally passed. "You've gotta be like, what, level sixty? At least? How'd you get so strong so fast?!"

Artyom turned over to the young man with a glare, making him pause. "I'm level fifteen."

"W-what?" he asked. "What kind of joke is that?"

"Level fifteen [Fist of Gravity]," replied Artyom in the same deadpan. "The only big Skills I have here are [Heavy Fist], [Read Movements], and [Area Magic]."

"I've heard of those Skills, they're not that good. You're lying!"

"You're right about the first part, but I just got lucky with good synergy between them and my own magic. [Heavy Fist] plus [Tungsten Body] makes my hands strong enough to rip through even enchanted armor, [Read Movements] and Aura let me tell exactly where a blow is about to land, and [Area Magic] let me do that trick with reversing gravity. It's pretty rare I get a Skill that lets me cast that spell, so consider yourself lucky that you got to see it."

"But where did you learn magic? Only the major clans know the secrets, and they only teach their own."

"Who says I learned it in this world? I've been studying and using it for a decade at this point."

Chet was in awe, but quickly shut his gaping mouth when he heard a low grumble from the ground.

Artyom simply walked over and grabbed the one living ninja by the collar of his robes and hoisted him up to head height. "So what's the big idea?" he asked. "Why are you all trying to kill Chet?"

"He slept with our clan's heir!" he said between coughing out droplets of blood. "She was betrothed to a noble who would have saved our clan from ruin, but now it is broken because of him."

Chet tried not to focus on his words, and rather on the fact that instead of a hole where his heart should have been, the ninja merely had a nasty bruise.

"Our entire clan is now doomed because of the dishonor, so we might as well put what's left of us into revenge, because we're finished anyway."

Before Artyom could ask another question, the ninja forcefully bit one of his molars, and his mouth quickly began to foam. Artyom dropped him as he gave them his last words: a terrible, gurgling laugh.

Everyone still living stood as quietly as the dead surrounding them.

And then Artyom glared at Chet.

The young man froze, even with his heart almost beating out of his chest, the rest of his body was utterly paralyzed.

"Do you still want to stick around here?" Artyom asked.

Chet violently shook his head. "I'd like to leave please."

Artyom was settling into his sleeping back in his tent after getting off the phone with Gus. Everyone had settled in for the night without any more fuss, especially Tommy and Rotte. But there was still an unsaid tension between them. So much for getting all of that resolved. But once they dropped Rotte off at the magical academy and got the armor piece, they'd be out of each others' hair.

But that was only one worry out of many.

While tonight's check-in with Gus had been uneventful, the call brought back memories of the words they'd exchanged yesterday. A reminder of the power and responsibility he now carried.

Artyom placed a hand on his pocket and gently patted it.

"The Eye of Balor," he whispered.

TOAL's greatest superweapon, now in the palm of his hands. The collateral damage would be devastating, but if anything could hurt the Fatewatchers, it would be that… maybe. But there was a massive risk of it also hurting Tommy in the crossfire. What kind of a situation would force him to use it, all those risks and collateral be damned?

He didn't want to think about it.

Any of it.

Artyom closed his eyes and let his mind wander, slowly drifting off to sleep in radio silence.