Kill The Old Ones!

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"Hey! Stop dawdling! Do something!"

Sieg was shaken out of his stupor. He apologized and began walking.

To where? Sieg himself would like to find out, too. Because the more things happen around him, the clearer it becomes to him that he’s totally out of his depth.

In times of emergency like this, hesitation was no less than proof of failure. But what exactly was he supposed to do? He doesn’t have the necessary skills to be of help!

Do they need help in building tents? No, of course not! That’s probably the last thing they need right now. Hell, they obviously didn’t need his help, seeing as their tents are built better than the one he has.

Do they need help with cooking food? No. Not that either, and they could cook better than him.

Logging? Fetching resources? Keeping watch? They could do all of that and more. They don’t need him for that.

So, facing the incoming threat of the Monster Horde, where everybody’s busy making themselves useful in anyway they can, what exactly could he do? Where was he supposed to go?

Please, somebody tell him, because he seriously doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know architecture. He doesn’t know crap about choosing a defensible terrain. He doesn’t know shit about building walls...or anything mundane for that matter. He’s heard of formations and runes before, but he never even bothered learning any of it. He could recognize herbs and medicinal ingredients, but compared to licensed individuals, he might as well be ignorant.

All he could really do was to fight monsters with that big-ass sword of his, but that’s just the damnest thing, isn’t it? Because he was painfully aware that he’s one of the weakest fighters in this camp.

He’s at the bottom of the rankings in his own group and still at the lowest rungs in the whole group.

The worse part is that his ’peers’ were doing much better than him. At the very least, they had some useful skills to contribute to the incoming defense.

Sieg could fight, but if he went out in there to face the horde, he’d just be a liability, and he damn well knows that. He’d just die, again and again, and be a burden to his teammates.

He doesn’t know any lifestyle skills, he’s weak, and he’s utterly useless right now.

All of this caused him to feel stifled from the inside without any hopes of releasing it. He feels so frustrated, and it shows because he’s running all around the camp without actually helping, and his expression is ugly.

He tried climbing the wooden walls, but that just showed him another painful reminder of his uselessness.

Soren Marek Vire—that cocky guy—the very person that reminded him the strongest of his own uselessness—was out there doing the most.

Sieg saw him punching the ground and causing literal hills to pop out of the ground. Not just that, he’s hurling rocks to mix into the winding paths, making the ground uneven, slippery, and filled with nasty traps for the unfortunate beasts. He’s got the help of many people, sure. But he’s directing them while also doing most of it himself. People just followed him like he’s their natural leader.

The strength, the control, the discipline, the charisma, the intelligence, and the sheer power to do all of that...Sieg could only leave and avert his eyes before he spontaneously combust from jealousy.

’How can he do all of that? ’

’Why can’t I? ’

’How is he so much better than me? ’

’Didn’t we have the same starting line? ’

’How come he’s so far ahead? ’

’It’s so unfair! ’

Sieg felt ashamed of his thoughts. He knows that now is not the time for this, but he just couldn’t help it.

For some reason, seeing that guy’s face reminds him very clearly of his own inadequacies. Sieg always feels incredibly bad whenever Ren showcases his abilities...especially the ones he couldn’t do.

"Oy! Come here!"

Sieg doesn’t need to know that this voice was calling him out. He took a deep breath and approached.

The man who called him just looked at him from head to toe, barely hiding the displeasure on his face.

"Tch. Another pampered young master..." Sieg heard him say.

He oh-so-badly wanted to correct him, but on second thought, Sieg could only stay quiet. Speaking out would just incite even more humiliation for himself.

"There, you see that? See what they’re doing?" The man pointed at a group of individuals who are using crude tools to dig the soil to make spaces for additional layers of wooden stakes to reinforce the walls of the camp.

"Go in there and help. You don’t need to understand why they’re doing that; just mimic what they’re doing. If you don’t understand something, ask questions, don’t be afraid, and be useful."

"Stop running around the camp like a headless chicken, and quit making that expression. We’re all on the same boat. Don’t be a burden."

The man’s words were harsh and a slap to his face. Sieg knows that the man had definitely seen him running around not knowing what to do, and he couldn’t exactly deny the truth behind that.

He took a deep breath, lowered his head, and walked towards the diggers.

Deep down, he felt ashamed and dissatisfied. There’s a certain distaste at being forced to do such dirty and manual labor like this, which is clearly unbefitting for a martial artist like him.

But aren’t these people the same? Who in this group weren’t martial artists? Who aren’t vaunted geniuses in their own cities and kingdoms? What happened to that? Aren’t they still reduced to mere menial laborers? Did he hear them complaining? No? So what excuses does he have?

He doesn’t have the right nor the strength to refuse orders. Especially not when deep down, he’s clear of his inadequacies.

**

Sieg wasn’t the only one out of his depth. He’s the one feeling it the most, but definitely not the only one.

Most of the group were completely caught off guard by this emergency. Some haven’t even had the chance to truly be comfortable just yet, and it’s definitely not been long enough to get used to a routine.

That said, they also have more self-awareness than Sieg.

They knew that they couldn’t be idlers. The martial artist then made them despise being useless, worthless, and lazy. That’s why, despite the unsavory options and labor they have to face right now, they just had to grit their teeth and actually do it.

Hell, even some girls who had never done any menial work in their lives were trying to make themselves useful in any way they could.

As hours passed and the high noon approached faster, the cacophony of activities within the camp remained intense.

The closer they were to the start of the crisis, the more anxious they felt.

The only comfort they received came from seeing their efforts manifesting before them.

The walls that Ren raised towered over the camp, making them feel secured. It’s not perfect, not even, and definitely not built for long-term protection, but having it was better than none.

And they personally saw him building that. He was, undoubtedly, the busiest person in this camp. Despite that, they never saw him slow down or rest. He pauses from time to time but only long enough to drink water or give orders to those who are willing to help him. After that, he’s moving again.

It’s like he’s a perpetual motion machine.

Somebody whispered that they couldn’t be surprised if they saw him hurling a whole damn mountain to put in between the camp and the incoming monster horde.

Some even said that they’re unsure who really was the monster here in question.

At this point, awe is an underestimation of what they felt about him. This guy seems to be able to do anything.

Some people also noticed that his girlfriend, despite looking like a pampered princess, wasn’t what they all thought she to be.

She was geniunely helpful and skilled. She has been since the beginning.

She might not be as exaggerated as her boyfriend, but she’s still more useful than most. She’s running all over the camp, never sitting in one place—not because she has no idea what to do, unlike some people, but because there’s just too much for her to do.

The lady knows a little bit of everything. And wherever she goes, she unhesitatingly shares what she knows and listens when somebody more knowledgeable is in charge.

Hell, they saw that lady personally shovelling soil to help the diggers create more spaces for the stakes. She was down there with them, getting mud, dirt, and grime all over her without a shred of complaint.

If someone like that could do all this, how could others feel comfortable watching her make them look useless?

Even Princess Diana was doing the same and not complaining at all. How could others stay idle when these women were out there doing what men should be doing?

It’s this kind of energy that permeated the camp throughout the preperation phase.

But eventually, it’s going to have to end because soon, the monsters will come.