Why didn't you look for me?

There were many people left on this planet who hadn't evacuated in time, as well as practically entire cities. So, for the first time, Cal slept off the ground. He was assigned a cozy room in the last house on the street because just a hundred meters away from it was a vacant lot, where the alien army was spread out in a diverse company.

People were used to this neighborhood and even let the children walk freely around the city without fear that they would get hurt. Cal was treated almost like a deity, comparing him to the Overlord. He carefully concealed the nature of his power over the creatures so as not to tempt those around him with the temptation to take possession of the coveted artifact.

One day, a black cloud appeared on the horizon. Cal was the first to feel his animal kingdom stirring. He jumped out into the street and stared intently to the west. Then sent out scouts, and what was his amazement when she saw the dragon army flying toward them.

Cal jumped up on top of a creature that resembled a flying horse and hurried his army towards the enemy. Cal's main goal was to take the battle away from the city to protect the people who relied on him.

As he approached the beautiful creatures rushing towards him, Cal felt a dizzying sense of desolation. All of these dragons had masters and many of them had killed those who raised them with love and care, becoming deadly weapons in the hands of a madman.

So Cal gritted his teeth and ordered his subordinates to spare no one. At first, the battle was fought in the sky. Clashing in the air, creatures, and dragons tore at each other with teeth and claws, freezing and breaking formation with whirlwinds.

Cal deviated somewhat from his direct course and circled the battle area seeking the very man, and he found him! The scumbag was sitting pathetically on Azinoth and didn't get into a fight. Until he suspected that the creatures had attacked in an organized fashion, obeying the man's will, Cal hastily brainstormed how to catch him off guard.

He flew up to his leeward side and carefully jumped onto Azinoth's back, almost immediately wrestling with the man's artifact for control of the dragon. Unnoticed by Schwartz as he took control of Azinoth, he began to lead the dragon slowly away to get the best possible moment to attack.

As soon as they were far enough away from the battlefield, the man drew his sword and knocked Schwartz out with a single blow. Taking the artifact from him, Cal used it, feeling his head cracking at the seams from the strain.

After enduring the terrible pressure on his mind, and having a hard time matching both armies, he put Azinoth on a rock and ordered the warring parties to stop.

In a large wasteland, the two opposing camps were licking their wounds. Barely had Cal had time to regain his senses when the black cloud appeared on the horizon again.

"Holy shit!" — The man cursed, shading his eyes from the sun to get a good look at his new adversary. "Wait a minute," he said, "isn't the valiant army here?"

Coming from the direction of the distant platforms, the division moved in his direction, raising clubs of dust all around. From the town, too, a delegation advanced. Seeing that the battle was over, and the dragons had quieted down, the men turned to Cal for advice on how to proceed.

"Have the chief take a few men to meet the allied forces. I will need your support to explain what happened here."

The man nodded understandingly, and soon a delegation rode out of town with white flags just in case. They raced on horseback through the parted ranks of dragons and creatures and met with the military halfway through. Cal took a place at the tail end of the company, trying not to attract attention, but the formidable-looking colonel immediately asked what had happened, pointing out the strange juxtaposition of dragons and creatures.

The head of the city, with Cal's approval, introduced him and explained the situation.

"So you command creatures and dragons?" The colonel asked, eyeing Cal incredulously.

"That's right," Cal replied, enduring the searing stare.

"Are you military?" The man asked, glaring at him from top to bottom.

"I served under General Tishow," Cal mentioned casually.

The man raised his eyebrows and his expression softened somewhat.

"I knew the General and had the honor of fighting alongside him in many places. He's a brave and valiant warrior, the likes of which are to be found. What happened to him? I heard he was badly wounded."

"That's right, the general is now paralyzed and unable to walk because he was not treated in time."

"Unfortunate," the colonel lowered his head, "well, soldier," he looked firmly into Cal's eyes, "how about joining the remnants of the allied army and joining forces to save the world we knew?"

Instead of answering, the man nodded and immediately felt a rather weighty slap on the back from the Colonel, so much so that he nearly spit out his lungs. Cal spent the rest of the day at the colonel's headquarters, where he told him in detail about the places he had managed to visit, showing him the markings on the map.

The man praised his new soldier sincerely and gave him the rank of Captain, arguing that in this special time, you can't wait until you pass all the ranks in turn. And to command a troop of two hundred men, plus livestock, would require at least that rank. After all, this is an army, not a children's camp.

"Besides," the colonel began suddenly delicately, "how about arming an army with dragons?"

Cal sighed. The colonel didn't seem to realize that there would be no more war to fight. Everywhere Cal had gone, he had immediately subdued all the creatures and stopped their aggression. But Cal did not speak out loud about it, leaving the man to see for himself.

Slowly he was beginning to realize that, as he had anticipated, it would be difficult for him to finish his military service early, and it was becoming a problem. He saw his campaign as a temporary mission to gain fame and prestige for Liam's sake and for the men. But spending his life serving day and night on the frontiers was not in his plans.

"Handing the dragons over to the army is my goal," Cal replied, "but I don't think it will work with the creatures."

The colonel nodded.

"My only request is that I want to keep Azinoth," Cal waved his hand at a handsome dragon that gleamed in its armor nearby, "that's my… General Tishow," Cal almost blabbed.

The man nodded affirmatively again, and things went smoothly between them. They left the planet and headed for wherever they could get help. Once they arrived, Cal took control of the creatures and stopped the Reapers. He was usually treating these creatures the same way – sending them into a deep catatonic stupor.

The animals froze, and Cal preferred not to see the army dealing with them. Unfortunately, there was no way to use the Reapers; they were giant titans, clumsy and useless.

The only thing they knew how to do was to get to the core of the planet and suck all the juices out of it, destroying world after world. So Cal felt no pity for them. But what he never ceased to enjoy was watching the planet rebuild.

The world destroyed by the invasion was beginning to support life again: rivers and lakes were filling up, grass was growing, and the atmosphere was healing.

Perhaps it was for this that Cal endured the hardships of army life and was constantly on the move, moving almost every three to five days to a new world. As a result, he had lost count of the planets he had liberated, ignoring those that were irretrievably lost and where there was no point in going. Gradually, the frontiers were strengthened and the situation stabilized.

Of course, many planets remained frozen in place when the humans left them, but it was only a matter of time. After almost seven months of his wandering, Cal had become very close to the Colonel and in private could address him by his first name, Andreas.

It turned out that the colonel was the same age as Cal, and they had also spent their childhood in the same country, which brought them even closer together. Sitting in the evening with a pint of beer, which with great difficulty they managed to get, Andreas poured his heart out to Cal, complaining about the harsh military life and the fact that he realized too late how hard it was to be a soldier.

"There's nothing you can do about it now," the colonel said ironically and drained his mug.

Cal usually listened to him and didn't interrupt, nor did he try to comfort him. He had long ago realized that the man simply had no one to talk to, but at the same time, Cal had been repeatedly convinced that he was a decent and patriotic man, ready to die for his principles and for others.

Cal trusted the colonel more and more and at the moment when he decided that he had had enough, he told him that he was going to leave the service. Andreas stared at him in bewilderment for a while, then said:

"You may not believe me, but I regret your decision," he put his hand on Cal's shoulder, "I hear there's a nightmare on the ground right now.

"My friend is there, and we haven't seen each other in almost seven months, I would rather not wait any longer."

"There's no point in asking you to tell me how you deal with the critters?"

"No," Cal didn't really want to tell the truth about the artifacts, and continued to hide them carefully.

The man sighed and said nothing. The next day, Schwartz's execution took place in private. He was sentenced to be shot, and Cal did much to keep the prisoner from talking and giving away his secret. When the man was executed, Cal realized he could head back with peace of mind.

After saying goodbye to Andreas, he stood on the platform and moved to a familiar place, where the marshal was waiting for him. The meeting was heartwarming and warm. To his surprise, Cal found the general walking through the park with a light cane.

It turned out that Pittsu had found him good doctors, and the experimental treatment had yielded results. Left alone with his grandfather, Cal told him in detail about his adventures and noted that Tishow was thinking much better than before, almost without the madness of before.

This once again convinced the man that he had done the right thing in risking his life to rescue the general.

"So, Schwartz is dead," the general clarified, taking a seat on a bench at the back of the park under the trees that were already green again, after the winter.

"Yes, he was executed," Cal confirmed.

"And his artifact?"

"I have it," Cal replied succinctly.

"So there are two," the man stated.

"Yeah."

"What do you plan to do with them?"

"Return them to the owner," Cal replied firmly, and Tishow seemed to be comfortable with that option.

"These things should be destroyed, if not possible, then safely hidden," the general continued.

"That's for sure," Cal didn't even for a moment want to imagine what would happen if someone got hold of the artifact again.

Then, glancing at Tishow, he asked:

"What do you plan to do next?"

"Return to my duties, since I don't know how to do anything else in this life."

"I see, by the way, I accompanied Colonel Andreas for a while, did you know him?"

"Yes, though I can't say I remember much about him," the general admitted.

"The army isn't the same now, but all the more reason it needs men like General Tishow," Cal said without hindsight.

"We'll see."

"By the way, Tishow, tell me, are you vindictive?"

"Why such a question?" The general didn't understand and glanced at Cal.

"Well, I found someone when I was subduing dragons…"

"No way!" — exclaimed the general and jumped up.

"I don't even know if you're happy or angry right now?" — Cal said.

"Where is he? Has he got his mind back yet!?" — Tishow questioned.

"I guess you're glad," Cal sighed in relief, "that bastard was riding him in fact, that's how I tracked him down, Azinoth is hard to miss."

The General was silent.

"Summon him," Cal said simply, "he's in my space."

It didn't take long for the General to arrive, and after moving a decent distance away, he met his old friend. As before, Azinoth shuffled his paws and galloped around his master, causing the delicate color to crumble off the cherries. This whole performance lasted exactly until a thin whistle sounded.

Azinoth sat down respectfully on his front paws, and the general saddled him. Cal looked at the beautiful sky for a long time, watching the dragon and the general proudly riding it. A feeling of inferiority pinched at his soul.

In all the time he had been gone, Liam had never once tried to find him or send him word.

"Okay, I've been out in the universe dealing with monsters, but you," he pondered, "you've been on earth the whole time. Do you remember me? When did I get so sentimental?"

Cal closed his eyes and inhaled a full breath. He could smell cherry blossoms, the scent of spring herbs, something sweet and fragrant filling him.

"We still haven't talked yet since you arrived," he heard Pittsu's velvet voice, "how are you?"

The man patted him on the shoulder and discreetly ran strands of snow-white hair through his fingers.

"Pittsu, you don't change," Cal smiled slightly, opening his arms and giving the marshal an unexpected hug.

"Whoa, easy, you know you're my weakness," he smiled blissfully, nonetheless, cradling Cal in his arms.

For a while, the men just stood there looking at each other with warmth and slight longing. Finally, Cal looked away and loosened the collar of his shirt. Pittsu grinned bitterly and sighed.

"I haven't heard from him," the marshal turned his back to the man, "but I know who he keeps in touch with."

"With whom?"

"With the Twelfth, the Seventh, Unner and his assistant. They've teamed up to help the students of the Academy."

"And what do they do?" Cal asked, imagining the colorful group in his mind.

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" The marshal looked back at him with a displeased look.

"But, I don't know what's going on over there now, how I'm going to fit in over there."

"The usual: money and crazy ideas rule the world."

"Money?" — Cal rubbed his chin, "Don't you want to come with me?"

"It's early," Pittsu replied sincerely, "I'll join the party a little later."

Cal was surprised that the marshal so flippantly referred to the tragedy on the ground as a 'party', but didn't pay it much mind. Eventually, the marshal talked him into staying another week, and all the while entertained the captain as best he could. They tried all the wines in his cellar, and tasted a young lamb, then named the foals in the stables.

Marshal asked Cal's advice on repairs to the west wing, and also asked for help in moving the warehouse. More and more pressing matters came up, and one day Cal just realized that Pittsu was artificially delaying him at his place, keeping him busy.

"Why is he doing this," the man asked himself, "are things really that bad on earth, or does he not want to let me go to Liam?" Cal slowly worked his way out of this sticky web, and one day walked off into the sunset without saying goodbye.

Finding himself back on the ground proved painful. Cal hid in the inn for a while and watched the flow of life through a gap between the curtains. No one smiled in the streets, armed troops patrolled the city, and Cal struggled to find a place to sleep.

What money he had wasn't enough for a long stay, and he puzzled over his empty wallet. When he left his business, he hadn't left a will, and now his natural talent for finding loopholes was in full force.

Finding a rather elderly lawyer, he conspired with him to make a will retroactively for a decent sum. Then he went to the central bank of the capital, where in his special box stored valuable things and documents.

Having taken out bills of exchange, some jewelry and attached to this will, Cal was ready to appear to the world as the grandson of the famous businessman Xavier. He had no trouble forging his papers, by which he was twenty-nine, and went to court to claim his inheritance.

As the second party in court, Cal met, to his surprise, his old assistant, now gray-haired and tired of life. It was quite agonizing for the man, and he overcame his sadness in the interval between hearings and approached the old man. With all reverence, he bowed to him, and then shook his hand and addressed him:

"Sir, my grandfather has told me much about you, he had an extremely high opinion of his assistant." — Cal could barely hold back tears as he said these words.

The old man looked at him carefully and a little warily with his faded blue eyes, and then tears flowed down his cheeks. Cal was touched and hurriedly held out a handkerchief to the man. Grasping his hand, the old man again gazed intently into his face, and then only Cal realized.

"Even if you didn't have a will, I'd recognize you, you have the same face…" — the old man hissed, clenching Cal's wrist.

"You're right, I do look a lot like my grandfather, that's why I was named after him," the man lied as he walked, feeling no remorse.

"I am so glad, so glad, you have no idea how happy I am to see my dear lord come to life before me again. I spent many years searching for him, but there was no trace of him," the old man in the expensive suit, who, however, was also many years old, rejoiced and lamented.

Cal tilted his head and put his hand over the old man's. He remembered well how his assistant had come to him as a young boy, timid but savvy and loyal. How he had gradually taken on more duties and responsibilities, so that before Cal left, the aide had become his right hand and chief confidant.

"Master, I would be grateful if you would bring me up to speed."

"Yes, yes, yes, of course," the old man agreed, "where would you like to start?"

"I'm interested in the factory in D***."

The old man thought for a moment, remembering the circumstances, and then nodded and said:

"The textile factory is now running at full capacity, cladding the army on government orders. Would you like to inspect it?" — The aide clarified.

"Yes, let's do it together, if it's not too much trouble," Cal asked, and shook the hand that was still clinging tenaciously to his sleeve, as if the old man feared Cal was a dream.

Flattered by the offer to work together, the deputy nodded in agreement. The hearing went in Cal's favor, and he was found to be the rightful heir to the *** company. 

After the hearing, the assistant invited the man into his conservative Mercedes W21, a six-cylinder executive passenger car. Cal admired the interior and marveled at how far the industry had come. Noticing the man's interest in the car, the old man said with a smile:

"It's certainly not the fastest car and many criticize it for its weak engine and heavy body, but I liked it, and old people are hard to please. You can choose any vehicle in our garage, there are some fine examples. I kept buying up new models of auto, as your grandfather was very fond of them, and if he came back…" — the old man pressed his lips together and stopped talking.

"I agree with Grandpa on that," Cal coughed, "I'd love to have one of the cars for personal use. I'll also need the funds."

"Of course," the old man nodded, "in that case, let's stop by the bank first and then make the trip to your grandfather's estate."

Cal had completely forgotten that he had once owned a house. He could hardly remember what it must have looked like, and some scraps and vague pictures came to mind. The car turned onto the main street and stopped suddenly in a line of cars. Cal looked ahead and didn't realize what had happened.

"ID check, the usual stuff," the old man sighed, apparently used to these situations and covering his eyes and pretending to doze off.

Cal looked out the window tensely until it was their turn. The chauffeur was the first to show his ID, and then it was Cal and the old man's turn. A man with an unassuming face in a military uniform and two others with guns circled the car and scrutinized the faces of the passengers.

For some reason, their stares made Cal shiver and made him more uncomfortable than the encounter with the undead.

"It's all right, drive through," the man said, handing back the papers and slapping the roof of the car. The convoy moved off.

"Patrols on every street now," the chauffeur said without turning his head, and the old man nodded back without opening his eyes.

The chauffeur glanced furtively at the young man beside his master. Cal met his eyes once, and the chauffeur quickly averted his eyes.

"Curiosity," thought Cal.

They pulled up to a large bank, where the old man withdrew money and handed it to Cal. Feeling the cash in his hands, the man felt much more confident. Next they traveled out of town and encountered three more patrols along the way.

When they finally reached a country road, the driver pushed the gas pedal to the max, and Cal thought the car would fall apart as it rattled and vibrated. The forty-horsepower engine, almost two cubic inches in displacement, was incapable of much speed, but the daredevil behind the wheel managed to squeeze all the juice out of it.

"Easy, Miles," said the old man, whose howling under the hood was interfering with his afternoon nap.

"Copy that," the driver replied and slowed down. The picture outside the window stopped flashing like crazy and the vibration decreased.

Seeing that his traveling companion was dozing off, Cal found a stack of newspapers and flipped through them with interest as the car moved farther and farther away from the bustling city.