They got their things ready and set out at midday again. Ira had found that his Host was remarkably inefficient in her traveling. They camped as soon as night set and didn't leave until the sun was high in the sky the next day. Their pace was slow and they kept making detours past difficult terrain. The journey would take, from his calculations, about three and a half weeks longer then it should because of this.

Not that he was going to say anything.

Among the five of them, there were only two horses that they loaded all their luggage on and walked beside.

Ira spent the journey to the frontline cloud-watching. It was a relaxing hobby and meant that he could tune out the annoyance that was listening to his Host being tutored in how to use her magic.

During the journey, they were attacked many times, by many different things. Monsters, bandits, even low-level demons almost killed them uncountable times. Ira never bothered to warn anyone about any incoming hostiles, mostly because he wasn't keeping an eye on it. He was possessing a body that had no impact on the story of this world at all, if it died, he would just switch to another.

With every battle that they waged, his Host improved the control of her magic, and her battle-instincts, which had at first been completely absent, had improved by leaps and bounds. Of course, his Host took her success to mean that she was powerful and it only made her more stubborn. Ira could inform her of the fact that everyone she fought against was pathetically weak, and it was sort of pathetic to see her be so smug about beating them, but that would just spoil his fun. It wasn't like the knowledge was going to change anything, anyway. She'd just accuse him of lying.

For some reason, a lot of his Hosts accused him of lying. He must just have one of those faces.

As they got closer and closer to the army recruitment camp, Ira could feel a tension rising from the group of humans around him. He had no idea what they were so nervous about (but then again, he didn't understand a lot of human emotions) so he just ignored them and walked in the lead.

The camp was up ahead, passed a high hill that they just had to climb. Ira saw no reason they couldn't go around it, but apparently that would just waste time. 

As if they hadn't wasted it already.

On the other hand, it also gave him more pictures to laugh about. His Host huffing and puffing up a small mountain as she complained about everything from the heat to the sun's rays to the steep climb was hilarious.

Top-quality comedy material right there.

When they finally reached the top of the hill, Ira almost couldn't contain his laugh at seeing the only way down. It was even steeper than the side they had just climbed up, with only a few trees and rocks in the way down. It was so steep that a few steps down, his Host slid, fell and tumbled the rest of the way down like a demented beachball.

She bounced, careened around and just generally made a sorry sight of herself. Her traveling companions soon joined her. Ira chose to preserve his dignity as much as possible (though he hardly knew what such a thing was, dignity, after all, was a human concept) and sat himself down from the start. He then just slid down, as if he was sitting on a waterslide.

He reached the ground after everyone else had rolled all the way down, amongst curses and loud yells of pains. It seemed some injuries had come about from the unfortunate tumble.

Such a shame.

Ira leaned his head on his hand where he was sitting on the hard ground, just a few meters away. It was only his natural inability to show emotions that kept him from laughing and pointing right in their faces. He looked forward to sharing what he had recorded with his fellow Systems when the mission was over with.

It took some time, but eventually, she managed to come back to her senses. Ira watched as she tore herself away from the concerned soldiers that surrounded her and her tag-alongs with an angry face. At one point, she even kicked a man in the crotch. If Ira wasn't mistaken, she was embarrassed to be caught in a humiliating moment and took it out on those around her. This, as well, he had seen many of his Hosts do.

Some people just didn't know how to quit whilst ahead.

Someone clearing their throat and coughing unnecessarily loudly close by diverted his attention and Ira looked to his side to discover that he was no longer alone. An older gentleman stood there, grey in his hair and a belly that was no longer the ideal size. The gentleman smiled when he saw that he had Ira's attention and asked, "Were you hurt as well?"

Ira just shook his head and smiled ruefully. "No, I'm quite alright. But my companions..."

He let the sentence go as he had no idea what else to say. Was he to say he was worried? Concerned? Felt bad that only he was undamaged?

Human sensibilities were so damn confusing.

But the gentleman seemed to realize what he should mean and frowned at him with sympathy clouding his judgment. The man opened his mouth to speak. "Our healers are very well educated, I'm sure that by the time they're done, they'll be good as new. You have nothing to be worried about. If you would like, you can make yourself at home in the canteen and get yourself something to eat while you wait?"

"Thank you very much for your kind words, I'll take you up on your offer." Ira smiled at the man and stood to his feet. He was wondering what that odd sensation in his stomach was. So it was hunger, eh?

Somehow, he always seemed to forget what it meant every time he left the various human bodies behind. Like all Systems, he got his sustenance from the energy of the various universes themselves. Things like actually sitting down at a table or on the ground, cooking something and then using his mouth to chew it wasn't really in his normal schedule.

Mortals were so freaking complicated.

The man pointed in the direction of the aforementioned canteen and Ira made his way there gratefully. He hoped nothing bad would happen to the man that had been so needlessly kind to him. But then he also didn't really care.

On the other hand, it was in his nature to always return all favors done to him, intentionally or not.

Well, things would turn out as they wanted.

In the canteen — a large tent above a bunch of tables and a couple of chairs — there were a lot of humans. They sat or stood in groups, having conversations at the same time as they dined. From the back of the tent came a smell, that while not exactly enticing, wasn't revolting either, and Ira walked between the many people in order to reach it. Once there, he grabbed a tray and started loading it with his choices. It was kind of like a school canteen, in a very superficial way.

But the food was at about the same level.

Ira sat himself down on the ground as there were no free chairs and he didn't really feel like standing and eating at the same time. He gulped down the food and drank with relief as his stomach finally stopped making that absolutely dreadful noise.

When he was finally satisfied (he had gone back in line twice to get more), Ira left the canteen in order to find his Host. While he didn't really care about what happened to her and he would know the instant she died, he figured it was only polite to check in on her. He at least had to make sure that she didn't have any permanent injuries. If that was the case, while not failed, he would have to use force to get her off the battlefield and save the mission.

This would involve revealing that he wasn't quite as useless as he'd made himself out to be, and that would be such a drag.

After asking a few different soldiers that were milling about where the infirmary was, he made his way there. The infirmary was filled with the scent of death, decay, and just general misery. 

Ira found that he quite liked it.

Once there, it was easy to find his companions. They were all laying or sitting on small cots that stood side by side and appeared pretty miserable. Sadly, they were all alive and well. Maybe if a few of them had died, his Host would have realized the complete foolishness of what she had intended to do and turn around. A lot of people changed their minds when they were face to face with death, and in order to spare the Host's fragile mentality, the memory of their deaths were always erased.

Ira walked past a few soldiers, most of them covered in blood-colored bandages, to get to his reluctant traveling companions. He smiled when he reached them and asked, "All better now?"

For his question, he got a lot of resentful glares. "No thanks to you." snapped one of his Host's followers. According to a foot-note in the original story, he was set to die in his first battle. Not a big loss, all things considered.

"I know and I apologize for my lack of vigilance. I shall strive to do better from here on out." Ira watched as shock spread on their faces from his admittance of his wrong-doing. Smugness then followed.

His Host glared at him with flaming blue eyes. "You could at the very least try not to be such a dead-weight. Or his that above your abilities?"

So now it was his intelligence that was in question.

Ira smiled at her, his closed eyes masking the daggers that he was throwing her. "The next time such a thing occurs, I shall tie you up and push you down myself. This way, there will be lesser injuries due to your flailing about."

His Host blushed all the way to the root of her hair and shrieked, "That's not better at all!"

Ira just tilted his head and widened his eyes. "It's not?"

"Gegh!" his Host leaned away from him and growled, "Your job is to help me. Isn't that why you're here?"

"Not at all," Ira stated. "It's to make sure that you don't destroy your own soul."

With that, his Host blushed even darker and looked away from the confused looks of her followers. Ira did, in fact, have the ability to help his Hosts, but why would he do that when he didn't even like them? Much less when they were so embarrassing that he could hardly stand to be around them? He knew that newly born Systems tended to help anyone with anything, no matter how difficult, but he had long since left that stage behind him.

Ah, the questionable decisions of youth.

So freaking embarrassing in hindsight.

On the other hand, it was always a blast to make fun of the new Systems and remind them of their naivety constantly until they got enough of it and tried to kill him in futility.

He was so much more powerful than them that any attempt just felt like being tapped with a feather.

It was actually kind of pleasant. Almost like a massage.

After saying goodbye to his Host, he drifted off to find a comfortable place to sleep. It didn't matter if he slept on a bed or on the ground, his innate regenerative abilities would heal any kinks that were caused by strange sleeping postures.

Off to the side of the camp, there was a nice piece of grass, high enough that it would be good enough. Ira sat down and then laid down on it. Above him, there was a picture of stars as night had long since fallen. It was a beautiful sight. The two moons of this world created a sight that made one think it was a painting.

Humans should really care more about it.