A knight clad in the shining armor of the Knights of the Emerald Shores walked with measured steps down the marbled corridors of the palace. Each footfall echoed in the hallowed halls. His gleaming armor bore the emblem of his order—a majestic crest of an ornately scaled serpent crafted in silver and gold, glinting under the soft glow of the lights above.

 

The palace doors, adorned with intricate engravings, parted before him as he entered the grand throne room. The room was bathed in a gentle, golden glow, with pillars of marble supporting the towering ceiling. At the far end of the chamber, atop a platform adorned with priceless tapestries and shimmering gemstones, a queen occupied her ornate throne.

 

The queen radiated a sense of youth that defied time itself while being surrounded by the elegance of the chamber. Her timeless figure, draped in regal attire, emanated an aura of elegance and authority that transcended centuries. Long, silvery hair cascaded like a waterfall under the moonlight, framing her ageless face. Her silver eyes, wise and piercing, held the knowledge of a thousand years. She was the embodiment of both grace and power. 

 

The knight bowed before the queen, his armored knee touching the polished marble floor. Her voice, characterized by a mixture of elegance and authority, echoed through the grandeur of the throne room. It was a voice that commanded attention, a voice that had ruled for nearly a millennium.

 

"Rise, Sir Gaston," the queen spoke, her words carefully chosen and her voice carrying a commanding presence. "You have been summoned for a matter of utmost importance."

 

Gaston stood, his heart filled with both reverence and anticipation. He awaited the queen's words with bated breath.

 

"Three years ago," she began, "after the summoned heroes mysteriously vanished, I sensed the rift opening on the other side. It led to a world without gods, a place where the balance of power has shifted, and the lines between good and evil have become blurred."

 

Sir Gaston listened intently, his armor gleaming under the golden light that bathed the throne room. 

 

The queen continued, her voice tinged with concern. "In this new world, I have observed a world devoid of magic. Cities rise high into the sky, not through enchanted spells but grounded in logic and understanding of their natural world. Their towering structures rival even the grandest of castles in our greatest kingdoms."

 

Gaston's brow rose behind his visored helmet. "Are they humans?" "What do we know about these people from the other world? Can we trust them?"

 

The queen nodded regally. "Indeed, they are. Before my reign, millennia ago, my great father told me stories of the ancients who fought alongside humans from another world, known as the Terrans. These Terrans possessed a unique ability to repel any form of curse or magic, making them invaluable allies in their ancient battles against dark forces. The people of this new world remind me of those ancient Terrans."

 

The queen's eyes held a glimmer of certainty as she spoke. "Gaston, I believe with all my heart that these people are the Terrans of legend. When that mysterious aura spread from the east, it was a sign that their ships had crossed into our world. They have now reached our shores, and the elf I sent with to the rift, Yaned, is safely among them."

 

Sir Gaston nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "What would you have me do, Your Majesty?"

 

The queen's voice resonated with purpose. "Go to them, Sir Gaston; however, be aware. We don't know what they have become after all these millennia," she continued. "Their true intentions are still a mystery to us. You must remain cautious and observe their actions closely. History has taught us that even the mightiest allies can become formidable enemies." 

 

The knight nodded, his expression grave but resolute. "Indeed, I shall keep a watchful eye on them, ready to defend myself and strike if they show any signs of aggression. I shall not hesitate to draw my sword and cut them down in a heartbeat."

 

The queen's wise gaze rested on Sir Gaston. "Remember, Sir Gaston, my forsight is radical, and my vision often fails me. One of many tendrils of my visions shows that conflict with these people will only end in our demise. We must seek a peaceful resolution, finding common ground. She continued, Use your diplomatic skills to forge a path of alliances rather than resorting to violence."

 

Sir Gaston felt a shiver of surprise run through him at his queen's words. He had been raised in a kingdom that had endured many wars, the scars of which were chiseled in the depths of the castle itself. The teachings he had received had always instilled a sense of unwavering confidence in the kingdom's strength. The idea of their demise had never held a place in his mind. Yet he knew better than to question his queen's wisdom. He understood that her visions of the future were not set in stone, but they served as guidance, a glimpse into the potential outcomes. The queen had navigated her long reign with skill and resilience, avoiding many calamities that her visions had foretold.

 

The queen's eyes held a mixture of hope and caution as she spoke again. "I am expecting them, Sir Gaston. They will come to Eranelu seeking answers, and we shall provide them. These newcomers are cautious and wise people, but they are also fast learners. They will undoubtedly notice our intentions and plans for them. When the time is right, I will personally meet with their leaders and propose a mutual alliance."

 

Sir Gaston took the queen's words to heart and bowed deeply, his armor clinking softly. "As you command, Your Majesty, I shall deliver your message to these newcomers and ensure that they are received with the utmost respect and hospitality."

 

The queen smiled at Sir Gaston's loyalty and determination. "Go, my loyal knight, and may our kingdom's future be as bright as the dawn."

 

With a final bow, Sir Gaston turned and left the grand throne room, his shining armor echoing in the hallowed halls. He embarked on his mission to find the adventurer named Yaned and extend the queen's gracious welcome to the people from the other world. He couldn't help but wonder how the arrival of people from the rift would change the kingdom. Will their vast knowledge bring about a new era of prosperity? Or will their presence disrupt the delicate balance that has been maintained for centuries?

 

 Sir Gaston and his five knights rode through the lush, sun-dappled forests towards the designated meeting point, the air was filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The knights were seasoned, their armor polished to a gleam, and their steeds well-trained.

 

One of the knights, a young and inquisitive man, couldn't contain his curiosity. He nudged his horse closer to Sir Gaston and asked, "Sir, what exactly is our mission that the queen has entrusted us with?" 

 

"Our mission is to approach these newcomers from other world and assess their intentions. We must ensure the safety of our kingdom and be prepared for diplomacy or defense, depending on the circumstances," Sir Gaston replied with a calm and stern tone. 

 

Before more questions could be asked, a deafening roar and the rush of wind interrupted their conversation. All heads turned upward as an unnatural metallic structure, much like a massive bug, soared through the sky above them. It was a helicopter, a technological marvel completely alien to Sir Gaston and his knights. It flew past them with a thunderous noise, leaving them in confusion. The knights' horses panicked at the sight and sound of the unnatural contraption.

 

Gaston, an experienced knight, quickly calmed his horse by speaking gently and stroking its neck. "Easy now, my friend," he urged, calming the steed with a gentle touch. As the helicopter passed, he couldn't help but murmur to himself, "These must be them." 

 

When the helicopter flew past them in a blur of motion, Sir Gaston's eyes were sharp enough to catch a fleeting glimpse of the machine's outer workings, metal plates welded in unusually small-shaped bolts. He was astounded to notice that there was no trace of magic, not even a faint glimmer of mana, in its design. The machine's extraordinary and unfamiliar appearance left no doubt in his mind that a group of newcomers had arrived. Sir Gaston gestured to his men, their pace slowly increasing with every thunderous hoofbeat, now responding to their knights' commands. following in the direction where the machine had disappeared, in pursuit of the newcomers.

 

Their horses have been galloping at full speed, their hooves pounding against the ground in a rhythmic symphony along the dirt road. As he focused on the distant horizon, he sensed something strange lurking in the air. Sir Gaston raised his hand, signaling for his men to halt. The eerie silence that followed was broken only by the faint sound of rustling leaves and a distant howl of wind. It's always natural to sense magic flowing through the air, but this felt different. Despite the smooth wind, there was no mystical energy in the air. Sir Gaston stood there, feeling perplexed and wary. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The absence of magic in the air seemed to cast a shadow of doubt over him, as if all his instincts were being tested. He knew that he was being observed. He scanned the surrounding area, his eyes darting from tree to tree, searching for any sign of movement.

 

They are out in the open and vulnerable to an unseen threat. He has annihilated a horde of goblins alone in the past, and he surely knew any fool brave enough to ambush them would be met with swift and deadly retaliation.

 

He fixed his gaze on a certain bush in the distance, determined to uncover the source of the prying eyes. As he stared intently, the shadows within the bush seemed to shift ever so slightly, confirming his suspicions. He then unsheathed his sword toward the bush. "Show yourself cowards," he said, his voice steady and calm. He maintained a composed demeanor, refusing to let fear or anger cloud his judgment. However, it refused to show itself. The figure lurking in the bush remained hidden, perhaps aware of the consequences if it were to reveal its presence.

 

His men looked at each other, their tension thick in the air. They knew their leader's patience was a weapon in and of itself, and they began to understand its power. They mirrored his calmness; their arms rested at their sides, and their bodies relaxed. They trusted in his ability to outlast their hidden enemy, knowing that his patience would eventually force them to make a move. And so they waited, eyes fixed on the bush, prepared for whatever would come next.

 

the air charged with anticipation. Suddenly, a shout tore through the stillness. One of the knights keen eyes locked onto the rustling bushes. "Movement!" the man shouted, eyes wide, tracking the sounds of rusling branches of a nearby bush that shuddered as if something were retreating deeper into the woods, his senses on high alert. 

 

"Ignore it," Sir Gaston commanded. He knew that they were being tested and that this was a game of nerves. He recognized a bluff when he saw one. Whatever or whoever had stirred the bushes was likely attempting to distract and unsettle them. In this tense standoff, Sir Gaston remained calm and focused, refusing to let the unknown presence in the bushes rattle his composure.

 

As the rustling in the underbrush faded away, Sir Gaston's knights mirrored his composure. They held their positions, watching and waiting for the true nature of the threat to reveal itself. The knights kept their hands on the hilts of their swords. They remained silent and prepared for anything that might come out of the hiding spot. They felt a heavy sense of uncertainty, as they remained clueless if this hidden entity was a friend or a foe.

 

Half an hour has passed since the rustling ceased, and there is still no sign of movement. The knights began to exchange glances, their composure slowly shifting as doubt crept into their minds. Sir Gaston finally broke the silence, his voice echoing through the stillness. "Enough waiting," he whispered. "We are the knights of the Emerald Shores; we are sent here to meet with you people and the adventurer named Yaned." He continued, "We know that your camp lies not far ahead. Our queen is expecting your arrival, and she wishes for a meeting. I request that your leader accompany us along with volunteers from your group. We have important matters to discuss regarding the trespassing into Eranelan territory."

 

After a brief pause, the person who was hiding stepped forward, revealing himself with a sly smirk on his face. The person was wearing bulky green clothing that looked unusual. Paired with a hat decorated with leaves and twigs, his face was painted to blend with the surrounding shrubs. More individuals emerged from the shadows, all dressed similarly and blending in perfectly with the environment. They pointed their weapons at the kningts. As the knights glanced at the unfamiliar weapons pointed at them, Sir Gaston maintained a calm face beneath his visor. Though he had encountered various weapons in his years of knightly training, these ones were unlike any he had seen before. Their design and construction were completely foreign to him, leaving him uncertain of their capabilities. Nonetheless, he knew he had to stay composed and prepared for anything that might come his way.

 

"We have no quarrel with you people," Sir Gaston called out, his voice projecting through the heavy armor. looking down at the group of armed individuals below. 

 

"And we, too, wish to avoid unnecessary conflict," the man stated calmly, his tone betraying a hint of caution. "We are hunter-gatherers just passing through your land. We mean no harm, only seeking provisions for our journey ahead."

 

Sir Gaston looked at the man with a cold and unwavering gaze, his demeanor as icy as the armor he wore. His face remained stone-like, even when he was heaving his helm, not expressing any signs of weakness. Despite the man's calm words, Sir Gaston could sense that something was amiss. There was a lack of sincerity in their claims of being harmless hunter-gatherers, and the way they carried themselves spoke volumes. The armed individuals below were not what they appeared to be, and Sir Gaston knew he had stumbled upon a group of scouts and that they lacked any magical aura. These people were exactly what he had been asked to meet. 

 

Intrigued by his suspicions, Sir Gaston decided to put these so-called hunters to the test. With his face remaining hidden in his visor, he said, "You claim to be a simple tribe of hunter-gatherers, but your attire and strange weapons tell a different tale. Our land has not seen such settlements as you describe, and your clothing, well-sewn and of high quality, raises our suspicions."

 

The man's eye twitched slightly, but he maintained his composure. "Indeed, noble sir," he replied calmly. "These garments and tools we possess are, uh, heirlooms passed down through the generations. We may not be settled, but we are indeed a group of tribes always on the move, seeking new hunting grounds and resources."

 

"Heirlooms, you say? Passed down through generations? The quality of your attire suggests a life of refinement, not that of nomadic tribes. And those weapons you brandish, they are like none I've ever seen in our lands. Explain their purpose." Sir Gaston's voice was filled with skepticism as he leaned forward. He knew they were good at lying. but he couldn't help but ask more questions. 

 

The man, aware of Sir Gaston's skepticism, spoke slowly and deliberately, carefully choosing his words. and as the man began to speak, his hand-held radio suddenly crackled to life, causing his expression to change. He listened intently to the message with a furrowed brow, and a sense of urgency washed over him.

 

The other armed individuals observed their leader's reaction, their rifles still trained on the knights. The tension in the air escalated as seconds ticked by, and Sir Gaston, ever watchful, noted the shift in the man's demeanor.

 

After listening to the message on the radio, the man cleared his throat. "It seems there has been a change in our situation. Our leader, Commander Decken, has decided to take matters into his own hands." The man moved aside to reveal Commander Decken approaching. Sir Gaston's knights adjusted their positions; their attention was now divided between their leader and the newly arrived commander. Their leader wore clean clothing, his upper body adorned with a high-visibility vest free of dirt or any stains. It stood out in stark contrast to the silver and gold armor worn by his knights. 

 

Their leader walked towards the group, his polished boots gleaming in the sunlight. "I believe we have a unique opportunity here—a clash of eras, if you will. We find ourselves in a situation where bloodshed would serve no one's interests. I propose that we put aside our differences and discuss a peaceful resolution." Commander Decken spoke with a cold and icy demeanor, his words cutting through the tension in the air. His voice was devoid of emotion.

 

As the commander finished speaking, he lowered his sword, signaling his willingness to negotiate. The knights exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond to this unexpected turn of events. They hesitantly shifted their positions. The atmosphere was tense as everyone awaited a response from their own leader. "Aye, I have no wish to see my men harmed, nor yours," Gir Gaston replied, his voice carrying the wisdom of a seasoned warrior as he leaned forward, his eyes meeting Decken's empty gaze.

 

The tension in the air lessened as Sir Gaston's words showed an intention to engage in peaceful negotiations. He gestured for his knights to lower their weapons, a subtle but significant sign of goodwill. The armed individuals on the other side mirrored the gesture, slowly lowering their own weapons.

 

Commander Decken nodded in acknowledgment, his icy demeanor unchanged. "Very well. Let us discuss a resolution to this unusual encounter," he agreed, taking a step closer to Sir Gaston. Leanig up as he does so, trying to catch a glimpse of who's talking under Knight's ornamented helm.  As the two leaders approached each other, their eyes locked in an intense gaze. The knights and soldiers watched as Commander Decken and Sir Gaston approached each other.

 

Commander Decken extends his hand in a gesture of goodwill, his expression remaining stoic. "I'm not wielding a weapon, so I'm not going to hurt you. "

 

Sir Gaston hesitated for a moment, studying Commander Decken's face for any signs of deception. Commander Decken's eyes remained stoic as well, revealing no ulterior motives. His instincts had already told him there was truth in the man's statements, and Sir Gaston's sharp and perceptive mind confirmed this. Sir Gaston was familiar with this gesture of clasping forearms as a knightly symbol of trust and friendship in his world. With a slight nod, he reciprocated the gesture by clasping Commander Decken's forearm firmly but not aggressively.

 

Commander Decken was expecting a handshake, but Sir Gaston's gesture of clasping forearms caught him off guard. He quickly adjusted his stance and reciprocated the gesture. 

 

"Commander Decken, I am in charge of this expeditionary force," Commander Decken stated, his voice filled with authority. 

 

"You can call me Sir Gaston, leader of the knights of the Emerald Shores," Sir Gaston replied confidently.

 

"I suppose you were not expecting the traditional knightly greeting," Sir Gaston remarked. "But in my world, this gesture signifies a bond of trust and respect." 

 

Commander Decken nodded in understanding and replied, "Indeed, Sir Gaston. Although unfamiliar to me, I can appreciate the symbolism behind it." As they continued their conversation, Sir Gaston turned his attention to his horse. With a swift motion, he dismounted and handed the reins to one of his attendants. The commander watched as Sir Gaston's horse patiently stood still.

 

"Now back to the task at hand," Sir Gaston said, regaining his focus. Sir Gaston, his voice steady, began to explain their mission to Commander Decken and his people. "We've been sent by our queen to find and meet up with you people; she expected your arrival, and she has summoned you, along with any willing volunteers, to our capital."

 

"expected us?" Commander Decken questioned, a hint of confusion in his voice.

 

Sir Gaston nodded, understanding the commander's confusion. "Yes, our queen has been informed of your journey and has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. She will address any questions or concerns you may have. I assure you, she is as eager to meet you as you are to meet her."

 

On a certain hill, two of the lieutenant's men were observing from a safe distance as they watched the conversation between Commander Decken and Sir Gaston unfold.

 

"I never expect to see knights in this world," one of the soldiers whispered.

 

"It's like we're living in a medieval comedy skit or something. I half expect them to break into song and dance any minute now." The other soldier chuckled, agreeing with his comrade's observation.

 

"Yeah, I can already hear the cheesy background music playing in my head." They continued to watch the knights with a mix of amusement and disbelief, wondering how they had ended up in such an extraordinary situation. "You ever get the feeling we're just extras in some medieval drama, and they're the stars?"

 

The soldier pondered for a moment before responding, "Oh, absolutely! I mean, did you see Sir Gaston's entrance? He's like the lead in a blockbuster, and we're just here for comedic relief."

 

One of the soldiers pointed toward the two leaders. "And look at them, so serious and stoic. I bet they've been practicing those icy stares for weeks."

 

"And that, Commander Decken! He doesn't even blink. I heard he's going for an award for the iciest demeanor."

 

"He's like a statue, unmoving and unflinching," remarked another soldier. "It's as if he's been trained to suppress any hint of emotion."

 

"Hey, have you noticed that the author seems to be stretching this chapter a bit? It's like they're out of ideas, and we're just here to fill some space," the first soldier replied.

 

"Yeah, it's like we're the comic relief characters in a story that's supposed to be all serious and dramatic," the second soldier continued. "If that's our role, we better keep the humor going and see how long we can stretch this conversation!"

 

After a brief moment of talking amongst themselves on guard, they quieted down as they noticed movement approaching behind them. Instinctively, they turned around, on high alert, ready to face the sound of approaching footsteps.

 

"What now!?" exclaimed one soldier, frustration evident in his voice.

 

The sound of footsteps grew louder. "Is this really a part where we could potentially become key characters?" the second soldier whispered.

 

The first soldier shrugged, uncertainty flickering across his face. "I guess we'll find out soon enough," he replied, gripping his trigger tighter. As the figures drew nearer, their eyes widened in disbelief—it was Yaned who appeared. the elf, along with a grunt from the sister ship (Queen Anne's revenge), and the photojournalist wearing a high-visibility vest from the camp.

 

"What did I miss?" Yaned asked with a serious expression, her eyes scanning the group for any signs of trouble. The group exchanged glances, unsure of how to explain their current predicament to Yaned without sounding completely absurd.

 

One of the soldiers rolled his eyes and lost his humor. "This is as absurd as it gets," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "No quarrel has happened between our group and the knights." He pointed at the knights standing nearby, along with Commander Decken, engaged in dialogue with Sir Gaston.

 

Yaned widens her eyes upon seeing Sir Gaston, the highest-ranking member of the knights of the emerald swords, discussing matters with Commander Decken. She quickly approached them, hoping she could prevent any further tension between the two sides.

 

As she got closer, Sir Gaston noticed her presence like a bright torch in the darkness. Her powerful aura stood out in the absence of magic where the group of outsiders stood. She wore strange white clothing paired with a pair of trousers, which was uncommon for women in their world. Sir Gaston paused his conversation with Commander Decken and turned his attention towards Yaned.

 

"Yaned, blessed to see you unscathed, braving the beast-infested oceans outside the trade routes to meet these people," Sir Gaston bowed respectfully. "Your record as a skilled adventurer precedes you. We could use someone like you in our ranks as a high mage." Yaned smiled embarrassedly, feeling a mix of surprise and pride at the unexpecting praise from such a legendary knight. Yaned looked at the two leaders, surprised to see two powerful figures from different factions meeting for the first time with two of them having no rivalry or competition towards each other.

 

As Yaned processed the unexpected turn of events, a sense of curiosity washed over her. She had always believed that leaders of different factions were always in competition with each other, each vying for power and dominance. Yet, here stood Sir Gaston, a renowned knight representing one faction, and Commander Decken, who is a mysterious military leader from another world. Yaned has witnessed their weapons (rifles) first fired in anger at the unsuspecting goblins. Yaned couldn't help but wonder what kind of weapons his people carried. 

 

"We were told to join the knights in their capital to meet their queen," replied Commander Decken. though inwardly skeptical and wary, nodded in agreement. He understood the need for caution but had no choice but to take the knights to their camp. His mind raced with questions, and a sense of unease gnawed at him. How had the queen and the knights known about their position? It didn't make sense, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

 

He decided that, for now, he would welcome the knights and extend a cautious invitation to their camp. His people needed more information and time to assess the situation. Commander Decken had to keep an eye on the knights, especially near any sensitive equipment. The safety and security of his people remained his top priority.

 

"Now then, why don't we show you to our camp?" Commander Decken said, gesturing for the knights to follow him. As they walked, he kept a close watch on their movements, noting their reactions to their surroundings.

 

As Sir Gaston and his knights, accompanied by Commander Decken and his group, walked through the entrance of the camp perched on top of the hill, a sudden gust of wind rushed through the open expanse. Sir Gaston felt the wind's force tugging at his cape, causing it to billow dramatically behind him. It was a dramatic sight; nevertheless, he was impressed by the sheer scale of the camp and the efficiency with which it had been set up.

 

The people in the camp, wearing their distinctive high-visibility vests, moved with purpose. They bustled with activity, carrying out various tasks that ranged from construction to logistics. Sir Gaston observed how well organized and strategically positioned the camp was. Different sections were designated for different purposes, creating a makeshift village in the vast expanse.

 

Amidst this organized chaos, his attention was drawn upward when he heard a loud noise. He spotted the same helicopter that had flown past them in the woods. The helicopter descended and landed gracefully on the plain grass, capturing Sir Gaston's attention. He observed with intrigue as horseless carriages (known as Polaris MRZRs) emerged from the cargo bay of the helicopter.

 

Like the dwarves of his world, the concept of horseless carriages (vehicles without horses) both fascinated and puzzled him. It was clear that these people were travelers, using these machines for their journey. However, a hint of suspicion crept into Sir Gaston's mind as he imagined the potential uses of these mechanical contraptions as siege engines or tools of war. He couldn't help but wonder about the capabilities and intentions of these newcomers, whose technology was beyond anything he had ever encountered in his world.

 

He couldn't help but be reminded of the queen's foresight. In his world, the queen's visions were considered both a gift and a responsibility. Her ability to see the interconnected threads of fate allowed her to glimpse the potential futures of their people.

 

The queen firmly believed that all fates were like threads in a grand tapestry, interconnected and woven together. She understood that these threads could potentially be manipulated to create a better future. Her foresight was a guiding light, helping her make decisions that would lead their kingdom down the right path.

 

Sir Gaston, although not privy to the specifics of the queen's visions, knew that she had foreseen the arrival of these newcomers. She had been eagerly awaiting their arrival, and her foresight had shown her a glimpse of their fates.