The Ogre Strength Fairy and the Eldest 'Son' Chapter 321 - Who They See And Who You Are Can Be The Same

Civilians and soldiers stretched for nearly a tenth of a mile along the winding road. The center was flanked by soldiers at regular intervals protecting the slow marching noncombatants. Sentries spotted Kefa first and raised the alert.

"Cultivators returning!"

A small group of soldiers broke off to et them, weapons ready but not drawn in case of Voidling movent. They were also still under the impression that so bad actors were around and - while they might not put up a winning fight against ill hearted cultivators, they would certainly do their best to stall.

Recognition dawned on their faces as they identified the Order uniform and two other cultivators trailing behind the first. The twin blade wielder started a short version of her story almost imdiately, regaling the nearest mortals with a tale of singular heroism.

They waited then waited on the next two with a lot wider smiling face. The leader of the little group eyed their appearance, especially the wound on Qatrand’s shoulder.

"You’re back earlier than expected. Captain will be happy to hear what happened."

"We need to speak with her urgently."

The sergeant nodded and led them through the ranks of soldiers and civilians toward the middle of the column where Cyera watched the procession. Kefa could be heard still singing praise slightly ahead, moving through the civilians and giving the key talking points.

’She’s pretty effective. Sotis my choices surprise myself.’

Elua had adjusted her illusion’s deanor during their approach to the Army, adopting a more subdued presence. Her birds remained flitting around the path rather than perched on her shoulders. Maintaining their overwatch while attracting less attention away from her Qat.

"You’ve returned quickly, and with... Young Miss Goltbred, isn’t it? What happened to your third man?"

Captain Cyera stepped away from her lieutenants and toward the pair when they arrived. But before either of them could say anything, Kefa climbed on top of the shield bearer’s shoulders and began to shout at the top of her lungs.

"Qatrand er Yecine of The Ironclad Order has killed a leader-class Voidling in single combat!"

A mont of stunned silence followed her echoing voice before cheers rose all around. Cyera’s lieutenants began speaking all at once and the captain raised her hand for, at least nearby, quiet. Her eyes fixed on the person who had volunteered and who she had officially sent on a *re* reconnaissance mission.

"Explain."

She commanded... and the swordswoman complied in her own words.

⟠ ⟠ ⟠

It was night again by the ti the reinforcent and replacent squadrons sallied out of the fort they had been headed toward. While the forces under Cyera would have gladly seen the entire mission through, minus sending the injured ahead, the command to return and rest had co from a higher ranking Army mber.

The fragnt in Qat’s chest humd with approval as the retelling painted exactly the heroic image she had hoped for to yet another group of people. This ti it wasn’t even Kefa, alone. She’d roped Helace and the shield bearer into helping act it out.

Elua stood slightly behind and beside her beloved, her expression carefully picked to show an ’annoyance’. One that also couldn’t help but be ’amused’ at the hijinks of the people her ’fortress’ had trusted and picked out of those available.

"So the scout was part of this conspiracy?"

Ryder asked while watching the cheers and precious mont of levity. He was pretty certain that Anper er Yecine never would have allowed this, considering the noise and distraction ’lowered vigilance’.

But not only did the *clearly* bothered heir choose silence as his subordinates went overboard on embellishing everything, the raven haired young man had even murmured sothing about it being good for the civilians to see.

"It did appear so. Though we don’t know his exact role. His death at the start of the fight prevented any further questioning on our part."

After Qat gave her answer, Elua spoke for the first ti since the man had shown up beside them. Her ’saccharine’ voice carried well despite all the noise, remaining knowledgeable in what she offered while still avoiding any sense of authority in her tone.

"Since the camp was sized for three or so, there may be others still hiding to find."

Of course, she knew exactly where they were and exactly why they wouldn’t be found. She wasn’t really looking forward to Qatrand asking the right question to her directly. Or to the mont she couldn’t take it any more and confessed.

’They got what they deserved~’

"You know, I caught the end of what you explained yourself, but I’m still surprised you made it out with only a scratch."

Ryder had actually been involved in a subduing action on the large eldritch creatures before. While not direct combat, it was still close enough to have seen so of what they were capable of.

Multiple lashing tentacles, twisting their forms out of the way of attacks, and just generally being at or close to a Primalist in strength made them formidable beyond reason.

"I was fortunate. And well-trained."

"Yes, you did say you were a lucky one before. If I hadn’t been a part of the lee with you before that, I might be more suspicious. But you clearly did good. For yourself and the Yecine na."

If she was being honest, the illusionist had slightly disliked this man at first. There were spikes of irritation every ti he looked at her beloved that made her mark him the mont their group entered the town that needed evacuating.

But the way his spirit particularly fluctuated when naming that family made it abundantly obvious where his problem lay. She even began to think he might be quite a useful ally for her Qat, as he was a relatively high ranking official of the Void Defense Society.

However, he was not the only one with words of praise to give. The soldiers did not seem to know whether they should crowd around the person who had battled the leader alone - or give them a respectful distance. Most settled for a mix of awed stares and nods of acknowledgnts when pigeon-blue turned to et their eyes.

Civilians were a bit less reserved. As the trio of Order mbers acted out their version of the story, word spread through the long column like wildfire. Children that ca to hear it tugged at their parents’ sleeves while pointing at the raven-haired swordswoman.

"Is that him? The one who killed the big monster?"

"Yes, dear. That’s the cultivator who’s keeping us safe."

Qat overheard these ’whispers’, feeling a strange discomfort settle in her chest. She had trained for years to beco a warrior worthy of respect. But this sudden attention? It sohow felt unearned.

Not because she hadn’t fought well, but because the narrative being spread by Kefa sounded more and more like soone else’s victory. While she was lost in her thoughts trying to deal with this, a weathered woman stepped forward from the group of evacuees.

"It’s not much, young man, but please take it. My children and theirs are alive because of what you did last night."

Her hands trembled slightly as she held out a worn handkerchief embroidered with delicate flowers. Caught off guard, Qatrand accepted the token with a small nod and low voice thanks. It opened the floodgates of precedent.

A baker offered so bread that had been packed and saved from his shop. An elderly craftsman pressed a carved wooden charm into her hand. Each gesture ca with so much gratitude that left the Yecine her increasingly overwheld.

Mint eyes watched on as it all happened, her illusion showing more composed softness than the reality and thanked every one of them along with her Qat. Ancient musent at her husband-wife’s predicant mingled with raw joy at her precious gem receiving open recognition.

Of course, all good things were so often ruined by dreadful people who could not read the mood. Captain Cyera’s replacent bellowed into the night.

"Enough. Let the cultivator breathe. You can all thank him when we arrive safely, not before!"

While Elua was a little miffed over the provided respite, Qatrand was relieved. The pressure of all that attention weighed on her like a physical burden. When the swordswoman stood to slip away to a small clearing with the excuse of checking on sothing...

Her wife of course followed.

"You’re not enjoying the adoration?"

A soft voice carried in the darkness outside the camp’s periter as the muscular teen leaned her back against a tree. Her eyes were distant and her spirit in turmoil. But her El had no real intent to calm that down.

She could tell, because the ’rascal’ feeling was as strong as ever in her mint drop.

"It doesn’t feel... right."

"Isn’t it, though? You did face the leader alone. You did kill it with your blade."

"With your help."

The heiress moved closer, mint eyes imdiately losing the reflection of the distant firelight. They had dulled and her monotone lectured the other girl.

"The victory was yours. The strength was yours. I was rely a judge of fairness. While it may have been unsettled, so were you. The field was even. I would not rob you of that."

The pressured and pouting cultivator let her fingers trace the edge of her blade’s hilt. A familiar feeling against her calloused palm in the middle of a very unfamiliar situation.

"Maybe. But the way they looked at , I might as well be called as our region’s hero already."

"Would that be so terrible? To be seen by everyone as what you truly are?"

"And what am I, exactly?"

The spiritualist knew that the girl was close. Even if she said nothing, maybe it would only be an hour of ditating away. But how could she let her most important person, whose presence flickered in and out of detectability, sit there feeling unworthy for that long?

"You are..."