The time inched closer to midnight, and it was the end of Meteos’ break. From his perch, he saw a Philadean clipper that was unfurling its sails and gliding out of the moorings on the inky Great Sumter River, juxtaposed with the luminous backdrop of the Lambert District. Aboard were a good number of recently joined collaborators of the White Lotus, who in two, maybe three weeks, with favorable winds and tides, would reach their destination and establish a new node in the Far Eastern network.
Only a week ago Meteos had spoken to Princess Lugiel about the White Lotus’ present limitations, stemming from its still relatively small pool of international collaborators, which restricts its influence in proportion to its ambitious stated goal. Nevertheless, given the White Lotus’ nature as a group founded based on something that wasn’t normal by any stretch of this world’s imagination, the White Lotus has the greater potential to rapidly correct its weakness by double or even triple digits within a single day, contingent upon the time and energy Meteos can allocate to meet every single one new member. The shortcomings of having Meteos as the only one capable (and actively willing) to accomplish such a feat were offset by the outlandish ease of the recruitment phase and impeccable coordination from even the greenest of White Lotus members. Even if these partners remain passive in instigating change, their role in providing intel on the events unfolding in their countries contributes significantly to the cause.
Still, there was a line that Meteos hadn’t crossed, that being none of the close friends of his age are seeing the Temple of Heaven. This wasn’t a game of tag or a clubhouse they could build in his backyard. This was a growing world-spanning conspiracy with lessening the damage from the Apocalypse as a stake. Meteos wouldn’t dream of subjecting his friends to that kind of pressure. They were actual kids, unlike himself. They deserved to enjoy their youth and live happy life. As he reminded himself, the adults were already proving incredibly useful. The network was already making a difference. And maybe, by the time his friends were old enough to understand, the world he was chasing after would already taking shape.
Besides, casting Temple of Heaven on underage children to fulfill this selfish ambition would probably be a surefire way to earn him an instant death from the Harbinger of Apocalypse and the Grim Reaper himself anyway. Meteos was greedy and spiteful, yes, but he is sure not stooping to that level. Had it not for the Apocalypse and its effects on his being, this boring, peaceful life might be Meteos’ ideal world as well. But apparently it was not to be.
Grin and bear it. Otherwise, Pestilence will relish in his small victories before the main act.
Checking at his mental clock, Meteos mumbled, “Still a good three hours left.” There’s still time to continue prepping for the next wave of collaborators before he himself needs to take a good night’s rest. That was the promise he made before his caretakers—bless their weary souls—relented to let him operate solo on certain nights.
Reaching into his sling bag, Meteos retrieved a thermos and took a long sip of richly flavored hot chocolate within. As he finished the last drop, a contented grin tugged at the corner of his lips. He couldn’t help but take a moment to indulge in savoring the fleeting sweetness that this simple pleasure had given him. And when he was done, Overhaul was cast to send the metal case in his hand dissolved into oblivion.
And the moment he donned his mask, Meteos became Amon again. He had three hours to meet with the would-be collaborators, give them orders, and tip the scales a little further in this world’s favor. Every second counted.
Amon leaned forward… and leaped down.
August 7, 1616 Central Calendar, 09:00
Northeastern Neldorand District, Runepolis, Holy Milishial Empire
Kaios shuffled slightly behind the de facto leader of their entourage as they walked along the sidewalk, casting a nostalgic gaze across the designated harbor for the Third Civilization Area and peripheral region ships in Runepolis. The morning sunlight, golden and unfiltered by pollution, danced on the river that lapped against the docks where an armada of vessels was tethered. Even for a place used to handle matters of commerce with barbarians, their presence isolated in the city to a single place not unlike the treatment for Mu’s black smoke-spewing steamships, the Milishians didn’t spare any effort in building this place to their own level of sophistication. However, the jutting wooden masts of the ships laden with intricate ropework reminded him of how out of place this enclave of his home country civilization’s activity compared to the rest of the Sleepless Magical City.
This selfsame harbor had been the boy’s first taste of Runepolis in person. Back then, as a wide-eyed newcomer, he’d likely drunk at the alien sight with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Now, having lived in this country for some time in order to advance his education, he is able to appreciate the scene with a more discerning eye, but the memory of that initial awe still held a charm as a pang of nostalgia. In a bygone timeline, his meeting with Meteos gave him an inspiration. But here, he earned all that he desired to see and then a friend.
Valeria Almeida, the Rogueriders’ butler and the only adult among the group who was the chaperone for today, glided effortlessly to the space between Kaios and Elto beside him and patted them on their shoulders. “…What about you two?”
“Huh? What happened?” Kaios, who wasn’t paying attention to the chattering behind them, blinked dazedly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I meant to ask this… have either of you apprentices contacted your parents recently?” Valeria clarified.
“…Not yet, but soon,” Elto quipped.
Unlike Runepolis where small yet highly sophisticated magical communication trinkets were long since becoming commonplace, Kaios and Elto’s hometown of Esthirant lagged behind Le Brias in Altaras of all capital cities by not yet seeing intercontinental manacom facilities available for the masses. The concept of technology that allowed voice communication in real-time across vast distances – between continents, in this case – did reach even the far-flung colonies of the Parpaldia Empire. However, the actual technology remained inaccessible to the common folk even in the Parpaldia proper. Their high cost limited their use to government agencies, the military, and a handful of organizations. They can exchange letters, but the reply would take a considerable time unlike the instantaneous communication Valeria’s people seemed to take for granted. Being the Parpaldian top diplomat, Elto’s father saw little obstacle in making calls to his daughter, but not so much for the middle-class family to which Kaios belonged.
Special Economic Zones of Parpaldia where the Holy Empire’s companies were present such as the one surrounding Duro, on the other hand, saw them available in the form of public manacom kiosks for the public who wished to make long-distance calls for an affordable fee. Whenever Kaios’ father traveled on business to these cities, he consistently made a point to visit these booths and get in touch with his son. Aware that his father would be visiting the largest of these SEZs, Kaios wasn’t overly concerned. He just wished that his father was here to watch him perform in the upcoming exam.
Kaios momentarily stumbled over his thoughts before shaking his head. “…Oh. Not yet for this week. But my father said he will be at Duro on a business trip so he can call me as soon as he arrives.”
Valeria patted their shoulders again. “I see, very good. It’s better to at least hear a familiar voice before the big test.”
“Mm-hmm,” Elto mumbled in agreement.
With a quiet chuckle, Kaios relaxed under the older woman’s comforting touch, turning his gaze to take in the bustling harbor scene that reminded him of his first time stepping foot in this country with his father, bless him for always being a supportive and caring man who allowed him a chance to even be here. But when he accidentally turned in a certain direction and his gaze lingered, a warmth bloomed in the boy’s cheeks that had nothing to do with the summer sun.
“Uh…” Kaios blurted out distractedly.
Mrs. Almeida seemed to command more attention than it should. Maybe because of the way her blonde hair, styled in a long bob cut, framed her face, and a stunning physique clad in an admittedly extravagant four-tailed coat that served as her customized uniform dyed in the white and blue colors of the family she was serving. No matter how unfair it was, there was no denying it – Valeria was practically shining, with a confident stride and a sharp wit that somehow made her even more attractive. But then Kaios mentally kicked himself. He wasn’t supposed to be staring at her like that – she was old enough to be everyone in the group’s mother!
‘Oh, verdomme. Why is everyone hot in this city—’ the boy inwardly whined, his head filled with a realization that he was possibly living in a fantasy land.
The advanced magical technology was one thing, but the people also seemed to be fond of defying the boundaries of possibility and impossibility. This must be the work of some kind of magical anti-aging remedy everyone had access to, making staying in their youthful prime seem to be the privilege of elves no longer, if only in terms of physical appearance. Living here made Kaios feel even younger, a wide-eyed boy surrounded by people who felt strangely ageless.
Lost in these thoughts, Kaios nearly didn’t hear Elto calling him. “Kaios, what are you looking at?”
Kaios whipped back around, forcing a smile. “Hm!? No-nothing! Just taking in the scenery.”
“Taking in the scenery, huh.”
“Heh.”
Elto stared at him, definitely noticing his earlier fumbling, but thankfully didn’t press the issue and turned back to conversing with Valeria. As he noticed a pause in Meteos’ own conversation with his girlfriend at the front, Kaios promptly peeled away and sidled up to the silver-haired boy, calling his name.
“What exactly are we trying to find here, anyway?” he asked, slightly curious.
A languid turning of his head preceded Meteos’ answer. “Things to ‘find,’ you say?” he asked back, his voice as calm and collected as he normally would, but there was a playful lilt in the way he just spoke.
Kaios flushed again under that deep oceanic shade of Meteos’ gaze. “Uh… forget I said anything,” he muttered. “I guess… I was just overthinking things,” he said louder as he pawed at his nape. More awkwardness.
“Hm. Well, to be honest, we are not actually trying to find anything in particular,” Meteos shrugged. “But considering today is supposed to be a fun break before the exam, I suppose we’re just going to take it easy and enjoy the scenery while walking. Maybe we’ll stumble upon something interesting or two.”
“Though, I wonder, why this place exactly?”
“Kaios, our outings are randomized, though? I’m not sure what are you talking about.”
“……Right, right,” a stifled giggle escaped Kaios’ lips. The carefree atmosphere around him was starting to work its charm. As both Professor Calvello and Meteos’ eldest brother have told them, they’re going to spend this week not exerting themselves as much as their usual routine of training—no, scratch that. It was mandated, even. Hanging out is fine, as long as both apprenticeship teams receive as much rest as possible.
Valeria chimed in with a perfectly arched eyebrow, “Young Master, do forgive Young Kaios if he seems a tad bewildered. He’s not completely used to your whims, it seems.”
“……Somehow I feel like I was the one being teased instead. How is that possible?” Meteos scoffed, rolling his eyes in response to his butler’s remarks and a wave of teasing laughter that their other friends in the group were giving him.
So far, Meteos never reacted terribly to friendly banters, but if there was one thing that the circle observed about him, it was the fact that when he’s out of the so-called ‘business mood,’ the young MOASEC engineer’s demeanor will quickly give way to an adorable sputtering at the first sign of teasing he could never stand—even more so when everyone practically dogpiled him. At first.
Too bad that it seemed that he got better at being stoic each time. Kaios and Elto arrived too late to see their host’s more vulnerable moments.
…………
Later, the group found themselves settled on a spot near the riverbank, each holding a refreshing ice cream cone in their hands. As they savored their treats, Elto spoke up amidst the clinking of spoons against ice cream cups. “Do any of you ever get bored doing… this?” she asked, gesturing vaguely at their leisurely stroll.
Annette gasped in the most exaggerated posh accent that even the Parpaldian thought was impossible. “Bored? Perish the thought, van Dalsen. Ice cream is a… heavenly ordained gift itself, and who in their right mind would ever get bored of something like this?” the young noblewoman declared, taking a large bite of her own cone with a delighted smile gracing her features. With even Elto letting out a snort and a small smile at her passionate defense, amusement rippled through the group.
Meanwhile, at an adjacent spot nearby, Meteos turned his gaze from contentedly looking at the vibrant blue river rippling in the sunlight and tilted his head slightly towards Kaios. “So, what about now? Are you feeling better?”
The addressed boy fidgeted slightly with his cup. “Yeah, thanks. But… despite I know your brother said that just participating means we’ve already accomplished a lot, that doesn’t exactly make the exam itself any less stressful.” A flash of pointed look darted towards Meteos. “Thanks for setting such a high bar, by the way. Makes it hard to just ‘dial it in,’ as your people say.”
Meteos raised an eyebrow. His tone was joking, but for a fleeting moment, he witnessed a flicker of resentment in his Parpaldian friend’s liquid fire-like blue eyes. Glancing at Walman, his childhood friend merely gave him an uneasy shrug that all but told him to deal with this himself before turning back to his huddle with Gabriel and Irmiya.
‘People are bound to receive this kind of sentiment no matter what, huh?’
“Kaios…” he began, searching for the right words, “Is that how you see it?”
“Huh? …Oh, n-no! I didn’t mean it like that!”
As soon as he felt a jolt of shock at himself for blurting out his anxieties so readily, Kaios quickly looked down at his cone and studiously avoided eye contact with anyone. His face burned even more from shame.
“……Sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you. That came out completely, utterly wrong.”
“Kaios. Do you resent my brother for putting you with this?”
“Blaming him for something we decided to do ourselves? That isn’t fair,” Kaios peeked up at Meteos through his lashes. “Right?”
With a thin smile that softened the sharp edges of his gaze, Meteos reached out and patted Kaios lightly on the shoulder. “Then that’s fine,” he said. “Think about it this way. You wouldn’t be feeling this pressure if you didn’t have a burning desire to be the best you can be. That fire in your gut, that yearning to excel – that’s a good thing when channeled right. It shows you have the spirit for excellence.”
Nodding slightly under the reassuring touch, Kaios swirled the melting ice cream around his cup with his spoon as a contemplative frown creased his forehead. His friend’s words hung in the air, a well-meaning pep talk, it would seem, but did it hold any truth? Again he stole a glance at Meteos, who was still looking expectantly at him.
He always seemed so sure of himself, so unshakeable in his confidence. Meteos might have a point about the pressure gnawing at him wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Maybe it was the fuel that would propel him forward. But a tiny, cynical voice piped up in the back of his mind. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking. Maybe Meteos was just good at making things sound better than they were.
“I guess…” Kaios admitted hesitantly. “But still… sometimes I wonder if everyone else feels the same way I do. Like I’m not good enough, that I might mess up.”
“Well, it’s up to you to see it as fuel to push you further or let it cripple you. I’m sure everyone feels that way at some point in their life.”
“You sure, you say? Well, I don’t see you doing it.”
“I’m just weird.”
What. Kaios slowly turned to look at Meteos with an incredulous gaze. He studied him for a moment, wondering where this suddenly came from.
“…Is that the best defense you’ve got?”
“Van Deventer, are you expecting me to pull some anecdotes out of my arse, then?” Meteos challenged with a wry grin on his face.
The exasperation in Meteos’ voice was strangely comforting, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle with a certain interpretation of this conversation.
“Hmm… you’re weird, alright,” Kaios swallowed another spoonful thoughtfully, managing to mutter after processing, or trying to process, those words.
“Why, thank you.” The silver-haired boy preened at that.
“But let’s be realistic. We haven’t been preparing for nearly as long as your team. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed when you’re all but compared to people who’ve been training for this practically their whole lives. How can I possibly measure to your level?”
“Hm. Focus on your strengths. You might surprise yourself.”
“Yes, yes. Thanks. We’re not going to be here just to make up the numbers, alright,” Kaios clarified. “But… it would be very embarrassing feeling envious of someone who didn’t even make it in, would it? That’s why, you guys better pass.”
“That’s good enough for me. I’ll pass this exam and become a Mage, not just for myself, but for your sake too.”
Kaios’ eyes widened slightly, “You just have to word it that way…”
“What? Oh, I see. Don’t get your hopes high, van Deventer. Pretty as you are, you’re not my type,” the silver-haired boy cheekily retorted.
A shriek of disbelief escaped Kaios before he could stop it. Grumbling in response after regaining his bearings, he shoved Meteos’ shoulder back with a bit more force than intended, but it was more a show of mock offense than real anger, and they both knew it. Meteos, being someone who can’t stand being teased but doesn’t have the heart to stop his friends from doing it, adapted by developing quite a dry sense of humor himself.
Feeling a sense of accomplishment for managing to uplift the mood, Meteos turned to carefully gauge Kaios’ reaction and found him smiling widely with a healthy flush still adorning his cheeks, nodding to himself. There’s a quiet determination in place of the earlier flicker of insecurity. A version of this young man in a bygone world once used that determination to stop his country from mindlessly marching further into ruin. Glad to know that it was a virtue he had possessed even since a young age, when he was still innocent of the horrors of this world and beyond.
Speaking of which. Meteos half-lied. Kaios van Deventer is too much like his own girlfriend in personality and appearance to the point he was what he imagined if Nadia were born a boy and slightly more expressive. He could have been exactly his type it’s crazy.
❖⟐❖⟐❖
Already back in his home by the afternoon, Meteos spent the time resting by occupying Adonis’ chair in his study and reviewing the siblings’ combined efforts for future advancement plans while his hair was still damp from a shower.
The Fourth Horseman’s study looked modern but somewhat too ordinary, with no hint of the man’s personal tastes or hobbies while living in this world. Yet, there was an undeniable comfort in the clean lines and uncluttered surfaces. The mint green walls were sparsely adorned with bookshelves lining one side, while a number of framed photographs filled the space on the other two. A blank map of the known world occupied the side located behind the desk, stretching from corner to corner. Layered with a glass screen, magic spells can be projected from a control panel in order to display pre-installed information from memory magic circuits such as trade routes, political boundaries, marked locations of Ancient Sorcerous Empire relics to keep track of this country’s progress, and so on.
When a maid entered to announce the visit from a certain company secretary, Meteos heaved a sigh and glided out, scrambling downstairs to greet this person himself.
“So, it’s about time?”
“Yes. I will be departing for Vallarge in the early morning tomorrow. Sorry, I won’t be there for the exam’s opening, but if there are no complications, I will be back by the knock-out rounds.”
“Well, don’t worry about that. Just focus your energy on the job.”
Meteos gave the visiting Lugiel a faint, knowing smirk. Instead of contacting him through a magical projection, the Princess had gone all the way to don her secretary disguise and came here just to inform him of the long-awaited revelation that this ruin was about to give the Holy Empire. With its discovery, no longer Meteos have to dance too far around the secrecy in order to guide the others about the other locations that will be of great interest to them. From the latest information, it seemed that an excavation team primarily comprised of mages to bend the sand dunes out of the way and a handful of heavy equipment had already succeeded in unearthing the entrance that they had yet to open.
Giving the boy a smile of her own, Lugiel sighed softly. “Were our connection not bound by secrecy, I would have been openly rooting for you in the exam.”
“Some things simply exist just out of our reach at times, aren’t they?”
“Heh…… So, just to confirm, is there anything else specific the excavation team should be prepared for once we’re inside?” Lugiel asked.
Meteos quirked an eyebrow. “Even if I were to say that nothing ominous will greet you guys, Task Force Nightraider is still going to be deployed anyway, right?”
“Naturally.”
“Heh… Anyway, you can rest assured there won’t be any enchanted golems or magical beasts guarding the entrance. There was never one in the first place.”
Lugiel nodded.
“The bigger concern is still logistics. The source of mana powering the facility – well, let’s just say it’s been out of commission for a long time now. You’ll need to bring a hefty supply of magic stone fuel to get things running again.”
“Hm. We’ll need to adjust the procurement schedule accordingly, then,” Lugiel made a note in her head. Lingering a bit to finish the refreshments graciously provided by the host, Lugiel stood up and straightened her posture. “That seems to be all for now. As always, thank you very much for the heads-up.”
“Happy treasure hunting, then.”
The Princess chuckled with a teasing grin in response. “Oh, you honor us. But you, to whom all secrets can be laid bare, are our real treasure.”
“……May your victories multiply, Your Highness.”
“On you as well, Meteos Roguerider.”
That afternoon, Meteos watched Lugiel leave with a slight sense of disappointment of not yet having the clearance to see the ruins himself. Still, he eagerly awaited Lugiel’s return, hoping for a detailed account of their discoveries and yet another vindicated future memory within the newly unearthed ruin.
Elsewhere
“Intensifying their involvement in the Far East is one thing, but to show signs that their meddling is starting to creep north…” a man murmured absently inside the expanse that served solely as a place to hold his seat. A seat like no other, it was sculpted out of pure adamantine with seven feather-shaped protrusions splayed out on either side of the backrest, while fifteen additional feathers were arranged in a fan-like display to form the crown at the top. A seat that belonged solely to this man. This was a seat that was the symbolic ‘seat’ in the place’s title as the ‘Seat of the Imperial Court.’
Shifting slightly, the man turned his gaze in the direction of one of the men flanking both sides of the carpeted path leading to his seat in the very center. “What have you found?”
The person addressed stepped closer to the center and bowed. “Your Radiance. However, there is no evidence they’ve discerned the true nature of the beacons, let alone aware of their existence. It seems that Milishial is still acting out of avarice.”
“Head Intelligencer. Are you speaking words as it is or are you speaking words that you think are what I wanted to hear?”
The person’s stubby black and white wings—a loathsome mark of eternal shame for the Radiant Line—bristled as the man’s gentle but accusatory words from his soft and tender lips made the Head Intelligencer flinch. As much as he can’t wait for these people to be finally useful—as either food, battery, or example—this is not the level of competence he expected from a high-ranking official of the state.
“Listen closely,” the man narrowed his eyes. “In this case, I prefer ‘likely’ or ‘probably’ over ‘sure’ or ‘certain.’ Is Milishial’s movement a coincidence or are they moving in response to some discovery they found? Both are quite probable. Hence, I don’t want to take our chances. Prepare a contingency plan as soon as possible.”
“As you command, Your Radiance.”
After gesturing for the Head Intelligencer to return to his spot, the man leaned back and tapped a thoughtful rhythm on his chin.
According to the reports, it was pointed out that Milishial is without a doubt getting better at copying the Ancient Sorcerous Empire’s design within the recent years that their threat level as the one entity deemed as their greatest obstacle in achieving the Reclamation must be considered to rise accordingly. For all the country’s power, they had to contend with a myriad of internal shortcomings that resulted in them not strong enough to take on the entire known world. And then, in a worst-case scenario, Milishial’s escalating proficiency and influence means that a peer-level thorn in their side capable of rallying the other countries after learning about the country’s mission will drop the hammer upon them should they be too late or worse, thwarted, in enabling the Reclamation.
“What would it take for Milishial to turn its attention away from the Far East?” the man kept a calm mask on his face while pondering about a countermeasure.
It was still too premature for a direct confrontation. But at that moment, a certain country to the west lumbered into his thoughts. The Kingdom of Mu, the paper tiger superpower across the Minerva Ocean west of Milishial, came to mind.
The man’s cold blue eyes gleamed with determination.
“Head Messenger, send word to convene the Council at once.”
“Yes, Your Radiance.”
Zarathostra of the Messiah, Emperor of the Annonrial Empire, did not wish for the people to die a pointless death. For he was preparing them for a grander destiny.
