April 25, 1616 Central Calendar, 15:01
Tranquila District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire
The final bell that echoed through the expansive schoolhouse of the Runepolis Magic Academy’s High School Department also signaled an end for Class X-C3’s history lesson with Professor Vladimir. As desks creaked and students surged to their feet to gather their things, the calm yet authoritative voice of their elven teacher offered one last reminder to his students.
“Remember, class,” the teacher said, slightly quieting the excited chatter that had begun to fill the classroom by drawing the students’ attention to him. “The practical exam for magical arts is just around the corner. I want you to continue practicing with diligence and not slack off in your preparations.”
“Yes, sir!” some of them replied with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
Among Class X-C3’s students was a young student from overseas who enrolled (technically transferred due to his home country’s education system) as a high school student last year. Kaios van Deventer from the Parpaldia Empire stretched his arms above his head and let out a soft sigh of relief. As he proceeded to gather his books, snippets of conversation drifted around him. Unlike the usual chatter about weekend plans or upcoming school events, this time, the atmosphere seemed more serious and laced with a hint of nervous excitement.
“Any news about the Imperial Board’s exam?” a girl asked her circle in a voice loud enough for Kaios’ ears to overhear.
“Some of the seniors are taking it this year.”
“Well, I don’t think that’s surprising, but I wonder if there are students from our year who will be participating.”
“The Legendorgas from classes next door have announced their intention to enter. There’s much support from the staff, too,” the class president chimed in.
“Of course the Legendorgas are participating,” another remarked with a slight snort. “It makes sense for nobility like them to join. I got to admit, they got talents, too.”
“Yeah, and they seem extra hyped this time around.”
“Ooh, I heard about this one. Apparently, they got wind of our former classmates who skipped grades joining the exam.”
“Could it be…” the class president crossed his arms before shaking his head slowly. “No, it must be. Meteos Roguerider and his circle are definitely the ones they’re talking about.”
“Huh. I knew it!”
“Those two boys are already Apprentice Mages, right?”
Having finished neatly tucking his books inside his bag, Kaios decided to stay seated for a while. The chatter about the Imperial Board’s exam and the mention of Meteos’ apprenticeship team filled the air, creating a tension the shy Parpaldian didn’t feel comfortable engaging with. While curious about the details, he felt it best to keep his distance. However, he couldn’t help but smile a bit as the whispers about his silver-haired friend intensified into a full-blown discussion.
While Kaios was still adjusting to life in Runepolis, it was Meteos and company who had become his anchor. They’d introduced him to the intricacies of living in this country, navigated the bustling city together, and even helped him overcome the culture shock from moving to a civilization so unbelievably advanced compared to his home country. The Roguerider family as the ones who sponsored his higher education and their associates are practically the young Parpaldian boy’s friends.
At that moment, the class president looked around and noticed Kaios still sitting quietly at his desk before approaching him.
“Excuse me, van Deventer,” he greeted politely. “Is it true what they’re saying? About Meteos Roguerider and the rest of his apprenticeship team joining the Imperial Board’s exam this year?”
Lost in his own thoughts, Kaios was caught off guard by the direct question and felt a blush creep up his cheeks. He hadn’t even thought of being put on the spot. “Uh,” he stammered. “That’s right, actually. The people from the Foundation told me about it some time ago. All four who are under Professor Calvello’s apprenticeship are going to give it a shot this year…”
“Eeh… Nadia is going to enter too?” the girls chorused.
“Lady Pendragon as well? Interesting,” the class president muttered to himself.
The revelation from the one who was quite close with Meteos sent a wave of murmurs through the emptying class.
“…It’s not like they’re bragging about it or anything,” Kaios interjected with a slightly firmer voice. “They’re just taking the chance like everyone else.”
The class president nodded thoughtfully. “Of course. I apologize if I came across as intrusive. It’s just that the exam held by the Imperial Board is a prestigious event in this country, and having notable names participating will certainly attract more attention.”
“That’s understandable,” Kaios murmured.
Glancing at his wristwatch, he decided that he had been lingering around for too long. “I think I’ll head home now,” he said, rising from his seat and donning his olive-drab parka that was wrapped around his seat’s backrest.
“Alright, van Deventer. See you tomorrow,” the class president responded with a small, understanding smile.
Without further ado, Kaios mumbled a farewell and made his way out of the classroom.
…………
Exiting the school gates, Kaios scanned the bustling street for a familiar sight. His eyes soon landed on a pale green car parked a few meters away, with a vanity license plate that caught the afternoon sun. Quickening his pace and approaching the vehicle, a sense of relief washed over him as he recognized that it was already occupied by his friends from other classes. Elto sat in front beside Meteos’ eldest brother Adonis, who had already returned from work and was dressed casually, while Gabriel van Helsing, the disguised prince from Louria, occupied one of the backseats.
“There you are,” Elto commented as soon as he slid into the unoccupied backseat. “What took your time?”
Kaios let out a sheepish chuckle in response. “I got… caught up in some talk at the classroom.”
“You’re gossiping?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.
“Well, something like that.”
Showing a warm smile, Adonis listened to the three younger blondes’ chattering and started his ‘steed,’ pulling away from the curb and merging into the afternoon traffic. As they navigated the bustling streets on their way back to the San Redentore District, the silver-haired young man casually threw a statement with the utmost confidence.
“Your classmates must have been talking about the Imperial Board’s exam over there.”
Kaios jolted his head, taken aback. “Eh? That was… spot on,” he blurted out in disbelief and admiration.
Adonis let out a breath in amusement. “It wasn’t a difficult guess. Being the big deal that the exam is, it’s been a frequent topic among the RMA’s staff. Naturally some of the chatter also reaches my ears as of late. Many of the staff are my acquaintance, after all,” he admitted with a plausible explanation.
“Ahahaha… that makes sense,” Kaios chuckled again.
It was no secret that being one of the RMA’s greatest alumni who was also a certified Mage at a young age, Adonis is a highly respected figure within the Academy, not just for his past achievements but also for his ongoing connections with the staff. His casual confirmation about the exam being the topic of discussion back at the Academy only solidified that notion in Kaios’ mind. But then again, Adonis is merely a human guise of Death, who is always with everyone from cradle to grave. It was only natural that he knew everything.
Unlike the regular exams held within academies like the RMA, the Imperial Board of Magical Arts Supervision’s annual exam holds a much greater significance for aspiring mages. It transcends the realm of mere academic evaluation and presents a crucial stepping stone in one’s career. For Apprentice Mage-ranked individuals, successfully passing the exam grants them the higher rank of Mage. And for a Mage, having their Apprentice Mages pass the exam will fulfill one of the prerequisites to reach the rank of Advanced Mage.
While primarily aimed at elevating the ranks of Apprentice Mages, the Imperial Board’s exam also welcomed the participation of Student Mages of 15 years old minimum. Though not mandatory for them since the Apprentice Mage rank is bestowed upon finishing higher education, this platform provided an invaluable opportunity to showcase their talents and potential to a wider audience. Established Mages often scouted these exams, seeking promising individuals to take under their wing as apprentices. Even for those who fell short of achieving the coveted Mage rank, a commendable performance during the exam garnered respect and recognition within the community. The mere act of participating and demonstrating their capabilities is already considered a significant accomplishment.
Adonis decided to also steer the conversation towards the topic at hand.
“Speaking of that exam, have you three ever considered taking it yourselves?”
The question struck Kaios, Elto, and Gabriel like a bolt from the blue, transforming the calm atmosphere among them into that of surprise.
“Us?” Elto tilted her head. “Wouldn’t that be a bit out of our reach?”
“You three have been diligently training with Meteos and his team since last year, haven’t you?” Adonis asked.
“Yes but…” Gabriel trailed off.
“We always thought of it as necessary to pass the exams?”
“There you go. You want to pass the exam.”
“I-I mean, to pass the school exam!” Kaios quickly added.
“Then you all should make your parents proud. Aim higher.”
Gabriel, however, couldn’t help but ask a question that had been nagging at him since hearing Adonis talking. “…Are foreigners like us even allowed to enter?”
A smirk played on Adonis’ lips. “Legally speaking, there are no specific laws barring foreigners from taking the exam, they’re just incredibly rare,” he assured them. “In fact, your participation would be welcomed, not only by the Foundation but also by the Holy Empire’s government. Even if you don’t pass, it will be a massive boon for yourselves.”
“Welcomed? How so?” Elto wondered.
“Simply put, it’s because of this country’s foreign policy nowadays. They want to be more open in cooperating with everyone, that’s the gist of it.”
“I see…” The only girl in the group nodded.
“Take your time and discuss it amongst yourselves, but I’d appreciate a positive response. I’m sure that Meteos will feel the same.”
His words hung in the air, prompting Elto to look at Adonis directly with brows furrowing in thought. “Are you… looking for specific apprentices, Mister Roguerider?” she ventured, her voice hesitant but laced with a hint of curiosity.
“I like the way you’re thinking.”
Neither confirming nor denying Elto’s inquiry, Adonis merely gave her an amused sideways glance.
April 30, 1616 Central Calendar, 09:00
Imperial Cultural Center, Cartalpas, Holy Milishial Empire
On the final day of the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference, the delegates convened again in a hall where they were seated arranged in concentric circles with a platform where the assembly speaker spoke from at its center. With all eyes on this gathering, the expectations of the international community weighed heavily on the decisions to be made. This momentous event held the power to shape the future of the global landscape, determining the trajectory of nations and the course of history. With so many delegates from all the world’s powerful countries in attendance, the atmosphere at the venue was undeniably tense.
The conference reached its endpoint today, culminating in a day of high stakes and weighty decisions. After days of deliberation, the proposals submitted by various participants throughout the conference’s first half and discussed through the second half will be brought to the table for a crucial vote.
“The final meeting for the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference will now be in session.”
Dressed in a finely crafted coat of navy blue and gold, the assembly speaker who belonged to the Holy Milishial Empire’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs stood up and announced to the assembled delegates.
After a brief pause, the speaker continued. “We will begin by deciding on the first proposal on the table regarding the deliberation and voting concerns the status of the Altaras Kingdom. As you are all aware, the Holy Milishial Empire has submitted a motion advocating for the reclassification of Altaras from its current designation as an outside civilization area country to a recognized civilized country belonging to the Third Civilization Area.”
A murmur rippled through the audience as various delegates exchanged glances, wondering about each other’s decision on the matter. Meanwhile, the assembly speaker refreshed the participants’ memory by conveying a brief overview of the Altaras Kingdom’s situation. Many among the delegates of the participating countries, which were recognized as the strongest countries of the known world, held a sense of disdain towards this island country. They viewed it as a primitive land, lacking the cultural refinement and technological advancements that defined “civilized” societies like themselves. This perception was further fueled by Altaras’ geographical position outside the designated civilization areas.
However, this perception was challenged by the fact that the world’s strongest country had put down its foot to vouch for this seemingly insignificant and weak country, highlighting Altaras’ recent strides in infrastructure development, resource management, and economic growth, painting a picture of a rapidly evolving nation poised to join the ranks of civilized countries. But one can say that this move to support Altaras was a mere façade to mask the Holy Empire’s true intentions.
The truth behind the Holy Empire’s advocacy for Altaras was far more complex. Their economic investments in the island kingdom also served as a strategic stepping stone for their larger goal of gaining a foothold in the vast Philades Continent. Recognizing the Parpaldia Empire, the aggressive superpower situated north of Altaras, as a key gateway, the Holy Empire had shrewdly secured a restraining against the rampaging dragon of Philades by concluding a trilateral Treaty of Evergarden with both Altaras and Parpaldia on 1610 CC, five years earlier than its Second Timeline counterpart.
Whether the motion is passed or not, the development of the eastern region has already been underway for years, and the already superior Holy Milishial Empire has already benefited tremendously through their maneuvering.
The speaker finally announced, “Esteemed delegates, please indicate your decision: approve, reject, or abstain on the motion to reclassify the Altaras Kingdom as a recognized Third Civilization Area country.”
As the speaker finished his statement, one by one representatives from each nation except the Holy Empire rose to their feet and declared their decision, in order from the strongest to the weakest civilization areas. Representing the third superpower Emor Kingdom, the noble in charge of diplomacy named Moriaul rose from his seat. “We abstain from this vote,” he declared in a booming voice that echoed through the hall.
The Milishian Foreign Minister leading his country’s, Baron Lewis Maddock, held back a sigh of exasperation. Dragonoids were always deep-seated in their prejudice against any species other than themselves—a mirror to the Ravernal Empire indeed. However, directly opposing the Holy Empire could also incur their wrath, hence the decision to abstain.
“The Torkia Kingdom votes in favor of the motion,” the female Foreign Minister of the country declared, followed by the final vote from the First Civilization Area countries that came from the Agartha Kingdom. Their representative, an elf wearing a long dark blue coat that more resembled a robe, stood up.
“The Agartha Kingdom casts its vote in favor of the motion.”
Similar to Torkia, Agartha maintained close ties with the Holy Milishial Empire, often referred to as “those two countries” for their eagerness to appease the world’s strongest country. Their decision, therefore, came as no surprise, further solidifying the Holy Empire’s influence within the First Civilization Area. A hush then fell over the hall as all eyes turned to the representatives of the Second Civilization Area nations.
“The Kingdom of Mu votes in favor of the motion.”
“The Leifor Empire votes to reject the motion.”
“The Magicaraich Community votes in favor of the motion.”
“The Nigrat Union votes in favor of the motion.”
Whatever their reason was, listening to the proceedings made Foreign Minister Maddock smile with satisfaction. The tide was turning in favor of the motion, and with three countries left, even if they all abstained or voted against it, it wouldn’t be enough to challenge the proposal. With a fleeting glance cast toward the remaining delegates from the Third Civilization Area and the Annonrial Empire to gauge their expressions and anticipate their decisions, Maddock leaned back in his seat with a triumphant feeling.
After the Nigrat Union’s representative finished speaking and sat down, the Parpaldian Director of the First Foreign Affairs Bureau known as Arjen Antonius van Dalsen rose to his feet and spoke with a calm tone.
“The Parpaldia Empire chooses to abstain from this vote,” he declared.
The hall erupted in hushes. Many had expected Parpaldia, with its history of aggression, to vehemently oppose the motion no matter what happened. However, then again, the opponent this time is the Holy Milishial Empire.
Next, the Rieman representative firmly stated, “The Riem Kingdom votes to reject the motion.”
Finally, all eyes turned to Karl Krunch, the winged man representing the Annonrial Empire as the last nation yet to declare its decision. He remained silent for a moment, his stoic expression revealing nothing of his thoughts. After a seemingly deliberate pause that annoyed some, the Annonrial delegate spoke, “The Annonrial Empire abstains from this vote.”
With all votes cast, the assembly speaker’s voice boomed through the hall again.
“The votes have been tallied. The motion to reclassify the Altaras Kingdom as a recognized Third Civilization Area country is hereby passed with five votes in favor, two against, and three abstentions.”
A smattering of applause erupted from the Holy Empire’s delegation. Slowly and cautiously, delegates from other nations began to join in until it grew in volume and intensity as the weight of the decision settled in. Even those who had opposed the motion, or abstained, couldn’t help but acknowledge the significance of the moment. The fate of the Altaras Kingdom had been sealed, and a new chapter in the global landscape had begun. A small island country is about to become a civilized nation.
When the applause subsided, the participants turned expectantly toward the assembly speaker, who straightened his posture and cleared his throat.
“Esteemed delegates,” he announced the next motion, “now that the motion regarding the Altaras Kingdom’s reclassification has been passed, we move on to the next proposal tabled by the Holy Milishial Empire. This proposal, directly related to the previous motion’s passing, advocates for the inclusion of the Altaras Kingdom as a rotating participant in the future Eleven Countries Leadership Conference.”
The reactions varied; even after one week, some were still trying to make heads or tails behind the Holy Milishial Empire’s bold move to include Altaras in the prestigious conference immediately after their successful push for the kingdom’s reclassification.
Eyeing the other delegates, Maddock noticed that the Leiforian representative remained stoic. Their previous rejection of the Altaras reclassification motion hinted at their potential disapproval of this follow-up proposal as well. However, the most evident display of discontent came from the Rieman delegation. Their faces were contorted in disapproval and their body language radiated an air of indignation. It was clear that the inclusion of Altaras as a rotating participant would be a contentious issue for the Riem Kingdom, as the frequency of their attendance would be slashed by the addition of another country. And to an insult for injury, this country was a country that they call a peripheral barbarian.
…………
“This is a heresy!” the Rieman representative grumbled to his colleagues. “How can a primitive nation barely worthy of being called civilized be granted a seat here!? This is a mockery of everything this conference stands for!”
Even if Maddock could hear their outburst from his seat, personally he hardly cared about their seething. For the Holy Empire’s government so far, Altaras is far more useful than Riem. In addition, the Rieman delegate was getting ahead of himself. The Eleven Countries Leadership Conference is an event conceived by the Holy Milishial Empire. In this known world where strength matters most, the Holy Empire could have just not bothered listening to other countries and ruled the world alone.
After each representative voiced their decisions, the voting for the inclusion of Altaras as a rotating participant in the conference resulted in six voting in favor (Torkia, Agartha, Mu, Magicaraich, Nigrat, and Parpaldia), three abstain (Emor, Leifor, and Annonrial), and Riem that voted against the proposal alone. Thus, this motion also passed with a majority vote and now the Altaras Kingdom would be granted a seat in the future Eleven Countries Leadership Conferences.
The Rieman delegate slammed his fist on the table. “Unbelievable! Even Parpaldia… those warmongering barbarians… sided on this travesty…! What is this world coming to?”
…………
When one of his subordinates pointed it out, Maddock craned his neck to observe the scene at the Rieman delegation’s seat across the hall and chuckled. He recognized the Riemans’ outrage for what it truly was: the desperate squirming of a barbarian threatened by the shifting tides of power. The inclusion of Altaras, a nation they looked down on as insignificant, was a direct challenge to their perceived dominance within the Third Civilization Area.
Parpaldia’s decision to vote in favor of the second motion surprised many. However, in light of the trilateral treaty between Parpaldia, Altaras, and the Holy Empire, the pieces fell into place. Parpaldia’s abstention, initially perceived as a sign of disapproval, now appeared to be a calculated move in the eyes of other nations. By abstaining on the first motion, they seem to avoid directly opposing the Holy Empire’s will while still maintaining their stance against formally recognizing Altaras’ new status. But what was the exact reason behind their contradicting stance now, currying favor towards the Holy Empire, perhaps?
Besides, the Dragon of Philades had also never held Riem in high regard. The Riem Kingdom’s reputation for opportunistic tendencies and arrogance for a weaker country often clashed with Parpaldia’s aggressive, but still pragmatic approach to international relations. While open conflict between the two nations was rare, an underlying tension simmered beneath the surface. Therefore, Parpaldia’s decision to support Altaras, which did bring them to a closer relation (and a relaxed technology outflow restriction) with the Holy Milishial Empire, could also be interpreted as a dig at Riem, further highlighting the existing enmity between the two countries.
…………
The Rieman delegate, his face flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation, could only slump back in his seat, defeated and fuming. However, as he remembered about the next motion, his face brightened a bit. A flicker of hope sparked in his eyes as a chance to salvage some semblance of victory from this humiliation presented itself.
The assembly speaker announced again. “We will now move on to the next proposal, presented by the Riem Kingdom.”
Unfazed by the ensuing murmurs, he continued by reviewing the proposal.
“The Riem Kingdom put forth an argument by stating that the Annonrial Empire, despite its vast territory, lacks the advancement that characterizes the other participating nations. They further argue that the Annonrial Empire’s contributions to global policymaking have been minimal to nonexistent, suggesting that their presence at the conference is largely ceremonial. Therefore, the Riem Kingdom proposed the exclusion of the Annonrial Empire from participation in future Eleven Countries Leadership Conferences. The vacant seat would then be allocated to a designated representative from the Third Civilization Area, thus bringing the quota to three nations. Esteemed delegates, please indicate your stance on this matter.”
Following the outline of the Riem Kingdom’s proposal, the Milishian Foreign Minister rose and spoke to the microphone with a resolute expression.
“The Holy Milishial Empire…” he began, “votes against this proposal.”
The flabbergasted Rieman delegate looked as if he had been struck by lightning. For him, opposition from the Holy Empire was enough to bury their hope of the motion passing.
“I don’t understand… I thought those Milishian barbarians hated those winged barbarians!? What the hell is going on!?”
What defines a ‘barbarian’ differs from region to region. In the First and Second Civilization Areas, the term’s meaning had shifted to describe ‘someone engaging in brutal, cruel, warlike, and insensitive.’ However, the term stayed in its original meaning in the Third Civilization Area, which used the term ‘barbarian’ to describe ‘someone who doesn’t speak their language.’ In other words, for the Riemans and Parpaldians, ‘barbarian’ is synonymous with ‘foreigner.’ Nevertheless, saying that to a Milishian whose highest level of extraterritorial rights allows them to kill a Rieman in their own home and escape punishment is synonymous with ‘courting death.’
Regardless of the Holy Empire’s decision that baffled the Rieman delegate, the others didn’t seem to question it and the declaration of votes after that seemed to pass like a blur. The Emor Kingdom, which was inclined to exclude the descendants of their hated enemy from future conferences, was ordered to abstain by Dragon King Wagdran should the Holy Empire voice opposition to this proposal. Those two countries followed the Holy Empire’s example and voted against it. As for the rest of the countries, Mu and Leifor voted to abstain, while Magicaraich, Nigrat, Parpaldia, and Annonrial also voted against the motion.
“The motion to exclude the Annonrial Empire from future Eleven Countries Leadership Conference is hereby rejected with seven votes against and three abstentions.”
Amidst the air of acceptance from other representatives, the Rieman delegate slowly dropped back into his seat. In some way, he believed that the Holy Empire’s voice must have influenced the others’ decisions. The impression that opposing the strongest country in the world was akin to a child throwing pebbles at a fortress rang true.
Yet, amidst the crushing defeat, a different emotion began to simmer within him—anger. A quiet, burning anger that gnawed at his insides. He knew Riem was no match for the Holy Empire in a physical confrontation. Their military paled in comparison to the Holy Empire’s war machine, their resources a mere pittance against the August Star of Heaven’s vast wealth. But that didn’t quell the resentment that bloomed in his chest.
That day, he realized that he hated the arrogant and self-righteous Milishians.
❖⟐❖⟐❖
20:00
Cartalpas Harbor
Sitting on the rooftop of a building overlooking the delegation fleet moored at the harbor, Meteos lowered his hood and removed his mask, letting the breeze of the night cool the rising temperature of his face. Lingering behind him and looking around, Ace was staying near him like a watchful guardian, while Robin and Princess Lugiel were digging every information they could glean from their new Annonrial allies inside their ship, accompanied by a number of Order of the Ancients’ members who had ‘seen’ the Temple of Heaven.
Coming from both Milishians and foreigners, there are already many of those like them around among the local cell ever since Meteos and company arrived at Cartalpas, further increasing the number of personnel that the reincarnator can employ at his beck and call as part of his rapidly expanding network.
Because of his activities and the continuous usage of his high-powered magic, Desire Driver or not, it had been a tiring week, both as Meteos Roguerider and as “Amon.” Accompanying the Holy Empire’s diplomats as a MOASEC-affiliated technical advisor by the day and pushing himself to the limit by converting the Annonrial Empire’s crew to their side by the night, Meteos felt strained, but pleased by the ‘great harvest’ he and his team had been reaping on both tasks.
After recruiting 23 winged people on the first day, Meteos gradually claimed the allegiance of their targets by exercising patience and planning. Using the Temple of Heaven on one crewman every one hour to allow time for his mana reserves to recover and adapt, followed by an interrogation session from past midnight until dawn, they managed to secure seven Annonrials within each night. And now, on the closing days before the delegation fleets departed Cartalpas to return home, he had completed in turning the entire Annonrial delegation crew to their side.
Meteos slowly traced the surface of the white and gold ceramic mask in his hand with his gloved thumb, then closed his eyes and let his mind wander for a bit. Had Meteos Roguerider never received a more direct involvement from Kagaseo in his second life, he would have never dreamed of doing something like this using only his past life’s memories. In a way, this is a form of divine blessing.
‘There is no turning back now…’
His moment of quiet contemplation was however disturbed by a subtle shift in the air behind him. When he whirled around, he found Ace already snapping in the direction he felt the presence to confront the intruder.
Landing soundlessly on the rooftop was Legiel, who offered a warm smile to both of his younger brothers.
“Evening, my brothers. I see you’ve been taking a breather from your busy schedule.”
“Why are you here?” Ace asked with a clipped tone.
Legiel’s smile broadened. “First thing first, I couldn’t miss out on celebrating your success, so I came here to congratulate your efforts. It was never easy, for a weakling like you to successfully achieve your objectives against stronger adversaries. But fortunately the element of surprise is firmly within your grasp, so that’s good for you. Do not squander it.”
Casually imparting some advice, Legiel nodded and walked to Meteos’ side. This caused an apprehensive Ace to mirror his movement and stand on the boy’s other side, watching for any unwanted movement. However, despite the mildly intimidating posture, the smile never left Legiel’s face as he turned to gaze at the ships moored below.
“Little Brother, give me your hand.”
Meteos’ eyebrow twitched slightly and instinctively recoiled. “What do you want?”
“I want to give my Little Brother a hand massage,” Legiel chirped.
“What?”
“Come on, I can make it feel better.”
“The sooner we can be rid of you, the better,” the reincarnator shook his head with a frown and volunteered, slowly reaching his right hand out to Legiel.
In response, Legiel gently removed the glove and rolled up his younger brother’s right sleeve, revealing the pale hand beneath.
“Good… let’s start with the tips.”
Legiel began by gently massaging each of Meteos’ fingertips individually, applying a light pressure that circled around the pads in slow, calming strokes. As he moved on from finger to finger, he focused on applying a bit more pressure at the base of each nail, feeling the tension slowly release under his touch. Meteos flinched ever so slightly with the increasing pressure, but Legiel noticed the subtle tension beginning to ease out of his shoulders.
“That’s it,” Legiel smiled happily. “Relax! I’m only here to help.”
“Ungh…”
“Oh? Did that hurt?”
“…No…”
Before Legiel continued his ministrations, he turned to Ace and tilted his head. The young man in question grimaced momentarily before crouching down and reaching for Meteos’ other hand, intending to do the same thing.
“Ace?”
“If I’m going to do something, I’d rather it not because this guy told me so. Give me your hand.”
“Uh…”
As Ace began applying similar gentle pressure to his left hand’s fingertips, a flicker of surprise crossed the reincarnator’s face. He glanced at the two siblings back and forth, then back to the harbor below. Despite the initial apprehension, Meteos couldn’t deny that he found himself succumbing to the unexpected pampering, the tension he was holding onto slowly melting away with each soothing touch.
“Hehe, then I’ll move on to the base of the fingers. Let’s see if we can’t improve your circulation. Get that blood flowing.”
Legiel paused mid-massage as he sensed Meteos subtly tense up again. The slight tightening of the muscles betrayed his attempt to remain stoic.
“No, no, don’t fight it. Stress is poison to the body.”
“………”
“Good. And finally, some gentle stimulation for the palm. No more than a touch. Just like this.”
Meteos let out a voice that sounded close to a moan.
“Ah? What was that? A cry of pleasure?” Legiel chuckled. “Is this how you like it?”
“Ahh!”
“Focus on your damn thing and stop mocking him,” Ace interjected from the other side.
“Right back at you, Younger Brother.”
…………
After finishing getting his hands massaged a few moments later, Meteos remained silent and idly tried to flex the muscles of his hands.
“Loose and limber, am I right?” Legiel looked at his younger brother expectantly and asked.
“………”
“Oh well, if you liked it, do ask me to do it again.”
“I can’t believe you’re here just to randomly do Meteos a favor.”
At Ace’s words, Legiel stood up and paced around behind the two of them.
“That might be true, Younger Brother. Do you know that there is a rapid buildup of Minus Energy emanating from the diplomatic lodgings north of town?”
With his gaze following Legiel’s movements, Ace grunted, “…Source?”
“A salty Rieman diplomat who isn’t too pleased with the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference’s results. His pride is shaken, and now he hates this country with a passion. He wanted the Holy Milishial Empire dead.”
Legiel shrugged and continued.
“Oh my, oh my, what a scaaaaary fellow. But his unreasonable hate is the same kind of hate that the Japanese, Gra Valkans, and Muish once directed toward our Little Brother back in his past life… back when he was an inventor simply doing his job. The thing is, a monster or two might be born from this much hatred, metaphorically or literally. Just like the case with some of the Audience.”
Meteos bristled and looked over his shoulder in silence that fell upon them in the wake of Legiel’s reminder.
“Younger Brother, you will always have Little Brother’s back, don’t you?”
Ignoring the bitter expressions directed at him, Legiel looked expectantly at Ace.
“We’ll be fine over here,” Meteos stood up and turned to Ace with a nod. “Do what you must.”
Ace crossed his arms and looked down for a moment. However, he finally spoke after letting out a sigh of resignation.
“…I’ll take care of it. But you will not bother Meteos further.”
Legiel’s smile widened further. “No problem, I’ll spectate your fight instead.”
Just before Legiel and Ace leaped off the rooftop, the former turned to Meteos again.
“Oh. One more thing, Little Brother. I commend you for succeeding in reverse-engineering the Temple of Heaven from your inherited memories and using it to your advantage. If you can overpower the people with the strongest magical power in this world, you can best others without difficulty. Why is it that particular spell that first comes to your mind? One might wonder if it’s instinctual on your part, but I hardly care.”
“What are you getting at?” Meteos sighed.
“Instinct is a lie, Little Brother, told by a fearful body hoping to be wrong.”
“Huh?”
“It means that when you base your expectations only on what you see, you blind yourself to the possibilities of a new reality,” Legiel’s smile turned enigmatic as he concluded. “I trust you’ll continue to utilize the advantage bestowed upon you by Younger Brother, but I was hoping to see something more… unexpected.”
Legiel’s body immediately shimmered and vanished into thin air, leaving Meteos and Ace alone on the rooftop.
Ace scoffed and muttered under his breath, “He just had to be cryptic, didn’t he?” He turned to Meteos with a hardened expression. “I’ll go deal with that Minus Energy before it causes any trouble. Stay safe, Meteos.”
“You too, Ace. May your victories multiply.”
“On you as well.”
Giving one last nod to his younger brother, Ace didn’t hesitate in launching himself off the rooftop and disappeared into the night, heading towards the source of the Minus Energy. Left alone, Meteos stretched and donned his mask, shifting back into his Amon persona. He took a deep breath and activated his manacom.
“Sorath, Flamberge. How’s the progress over there? Any issues?”
Silence filled the air for a moment, then Robin’s voice came through.
“Amon, this is Flamberge. We’re almost done debriefing the crew. Everything is proceeding smoothly.”
May 3, 1616 Central Calendar, 09:00
Cartalpas
The crisp morning air of the third day of the fifth month vibrated with the cheers of thousands of voices. After one week of holding the event, the Cartalpas Harbor became a stage for a grand farewell. Fleets of ships accompanying the delegates that participated in the Eleven Countries Leadership Conference lined up majestically, proudly flying their flags that snapped in the breeze. Unlike the staggered arrival, where each nation displayed its individual grandeur, the departure was a unified spectacle. The smaller sailing ships were sailing in the lead, followed by the contingent arriving in imposing ships-of-the-line and finally the metal warships from Magicaraich and Mu.
Amidst the cacophony of cheers and clanging ship bells, Meteos and Walman spotted a familiar figure weaving through the crowd. It was their new friend Bront, who scurried through the throngs of people with nimble movement, weaving between legs and around vendors hawking souvenirs.
“Bront!” Walman exclaimed, waving his hand.
“Yo! It’s quite a sight, isn’t it!?”
They stood shoulder-to-shoulder, watching as the colossal warships of Magicaraich and Mu finally set sail at the tail end of the procession.
“Indeed,” Meteos smiled and nodded. “But unfortunately, it’s time for us to go too.”
Bront’s smile faltered. “You’re leaving already?”
“Yes. We have to return to the capital soon, our Master told us so.”
“Oh, I see…”
Bront shuffled his feet in disappointment. However, Meteos placed a hand on his shoulder. “We had a great time here, Bront. Thank you for showing us around and sharing your stories. It’s nice to meet someone who has the same hobby.”
“Maybe we’ll meet again someday?” the red-eyed brunette said hopefully.
“Hey, the world is round. I’m sure we’ll come across each other again.”
Walman shook his head in mild disbelief. “What kind of confidence is that…?”
However, a grinning Meteos made no attempt to explain himself.
The three teenagers continued to watch the proceedings until the very last ship disappeared from sight.
❖⟐❖⟐❖
Agartha Kingdom Delegation Fleet Flagship, Magic Sailing Frigate Shambhala
Among the sailing ships that sliced through the waters ahead of the procession was the Shambhala, a black and white-painted 600-ton frigate that led the seven other ships of the Agarthan delegation fleet. As the flagship, she was not only the largest vessel but also the most powerful, stretching 44 meters long and 11 meters wide, armed with six 6-pounder magic guns that lined her quarterdeck and forecastle as well as twenty-six 12-pounder magic long guns, all domestically produced.
The main strength of the Agarthan navy still lay in the mages that manned the vessels. Unlike the Holy Milishial Empire, which rose to the top by relying on magical technology, Agartha took the path of focusing on nurturing and honing the innate magical abilities of its people. Each ship housed a contingent of highly trained mages capable of unleashing powerful spells in combat. However, the Agartha Kingdom was also trying to advance its national power by cooperating with the Holy Milishial Empire, which resulted in the cannon-armed Shambhala that the delegation fleet brought to Cartalpas this year.
Their more magitech-oriented neighbor Torkia Kingdom whose fleet was sailing beside them also enjoyed the same thing due to their warm relations with the Holy Empire, being able to show up to a conference with a slightly larger, their own version of a fifth-rate frigate as a flagship.
Onboard the flagship, the leader of the Agarthan delegate leaned against the railing and squinted at the ever-shrinking figures on the harbor with a hint of thoughtful serenity etched on his face. Beside him stood his aide who observed his superior’s contemplative demeanor and ventured, “It seems the Conference this year proved to be quite fruitful for our country, My Lord. Some of the talks progressed very smoothly.”
“Verily, we gained a lot more than we initially expected,” the elven diplomat nodded languidly. “It was surprising, but it was a surprise I can really get used to.”
A slight pause followed before the aide asked again. “I couldn’t help but notice, My Lord, that you are looking at the harbor so intently.”
The diplomat let out a sigh as he answered.
“Indeed. I was wondering if Amon is there among the crowd that saw us off.”
“Amon… I still can’t believe such a person exists…”
“The world is indeed a curious place, isn’t it?”
❖⟐❖⟐❖
Annonrial Empire’s Delegation Ship
Inside his cabin, Senior Diplomatic Officer Karl Krunch was having a discussion with Repsant, the captain of the ship.
“So, the first thing we need to do is to establish a reliable method of communication with Amon’s group as soon as possible. The developments at the homeland in response to everything happening in this world needs to be accurately relayed to him,” the captain stated.
“Indeed,” Karl sighed, stroking his beard. “The theme park at Bushpaka Latan simply won’t cut it. Unfortunately the central government rejected Milishial’s offer to set up even simple communication towers on the island. But at least the proposal for increased trade is accepted, and some of Amon’s Milishian comrades will be on the ships that will be arriving.”
“Well, that is an annoying hindrance.”
Karl hummed. “Leave that to me, Captain. Once we reach Bushpaka Latan, I’ll immediately head to the capital to submit a report. There, I’ll see if we can use our real communications equipment to establish a direct link with Amon.”
“Then, we should make sure that no one among our other brethren will find out.”
“Indeed. Discretion is paramount, we cannot afford to let the word of our connection leak out, not until the time is right.”
Karl paused, contemplating the situation further. “However, convincing the others will ultimately depend on Amon himself. Until they see him in person, gaining their support is impossible.”
“So, we wait for Amon’s next decisive move?” Repsant inquired.
“In a sense, yes,” Karl replied. “Amon needs to make an appearance in front of our other brethren. Until then, we’ll work with what we have.”
Ever since the unification of the Middle Lands three thousand years ago by Lucius of the Morning Star, another Milishian will go beyond the impossible in this world.
The Available Information from Beyond
ANNONRIAL EMPIRE
A country that occupies the southern part of the known world, ruled and inhabited by the Winged People, descendants of the Ravernal Empire’s Light-Winged People. Not much information can be obtained out from them except that Annonrial is a magical civilization and they enforce an isolationist policy, blocking other countries from contacting their mainland except through the island of Bushpaka Latan which is situated in the north of the Annonrial mainland.
Despite appearing as a primitive country that merely rules vast swathes of land to the known world, the Annonrial Empire is in reality the true strongest country in the world surpassing the Holy Milishial Empire. Its ruler, Emperor Zarathostra of the Messiah, is the leader of the last surviving lineage of the Light-Winged People on this planet who aims to ensure that his loved ones in the Ravernal Empire will return safely so that they can continue remaking this world in their image and spite the gods who only bring them suffering.
The Annonrial Empire has approximately 200 million inhabitants mainly concentrated on the highly urbanized southern coasts of the two main continents that formed the country’s mainland. The vast central and northern parts of the two continents are mainly used for research and excavation of leftover Ravernal technologies, among them the Advanced Biological Research Laboratory in the middle of the desert in the heart of the Branchel Continent.
