Overlord: The Exiled
Disclaimer and Notes
A few things have been brought to my attention of late.
I realize all too well that Draconis can seem "too perfect". It has always been my intention that his character will be addressed. Yet I fear that much of it relies on his interactions with his wife Artorias. Bear in mind. That his flaws don't easily show because he has mainly been involved with high end social interactions. He is used to and familiar with this.
Lucia was to be his foil. The one calling him out on things, Perhaps I have not been descriptive enough, perhaps it was skimmed over by readers who brought this to my attention.
He fights his inner demons by ensuring others don't go through the same. The negative term for this is "Coddling". It may seem like helping, but . . . well you'll see.
On with the show!
Chapter 34: Departures and Encounters
Draconis stared at the fire after the Adamantite team Pioneer had exchanged information with him. Something inside him burned. Someone was toying around with him now that he had earned that title . . . the title of Martial Lord. He resented that title now more than ever.
"Damn my competitive spirit. Ever since the game allowed me to move and walk again like a normal person . . . I relished in it. My escape from the bitter reality." He clenched his knees with both hands. "I get too absorbed in the moment. Too lost in the heat of battle."
He had not gotten the information that he really wanted out of Pioneer. Damn his good natured tendencies. He was playing a Holy Knight. All his special powers and abilities demanded a positive Karma Score to operate at their finest. As much as he wanted to just charge in and demand both answers and aide to help the Dragon Kingdom and Draudillon, he simply could not bring himself to do so. Not when nearly a full half of his strength relied on him remaining good.
In a sense, that was selfish. Terribly selfish.
Night was upon him, yet the Dragon Ascendant's ability to forgo sleep, drink, and food now mocked him. From the shadows of the ger, Akame and Kurome both appeared and sat in front of him with concerned frowns.
"Lord Draconis? What's troubling you?"
A low growl that was decidedly not human came from his throat. A growl of annoyance and thinning patience.
"This is all taking too long. As entertaining as some of this has been. As enlightening as some of this has been. We should be back at the Dragon Kingdom already with forces prepared."
Akame and Kurome frowned as Draconis ground his teeth. Akame took a tentative step forward and looked him in the eyes.
"Lord Draconis. You're worrying us. Surely you trust our Guardians enough to hold the lines until you return?"
Her words struck a chord with him and he stared at her for a few moments before realizing what it was he might have implied however indirectly. He placed a placating hand on her head and fluffed her hair a bit, making her groan and back up a step.
"I'm sorry Akame. I'm on edge. There is so much of this New World that we find ourselves in that we don't know. As confident as I am that we are powerhouses in this new realm. It also puts me on edge and worry. Overwhelmingly so. Things that seemed like concepts and background noise are now very much real and such powers make me . . . make me afraid."
Akame and Kurome glanced at each other both in surprise and concern. Fear?
"What do you mean?" Kurome knelt before him with a genuinely curious expression. Her dark black eyes glanced from one of Draconis's eyes to the other in concern.
"The gods and any other primordial force that would take interest in our affairs. Yet in my competitive nature with the duel with Go Gin, I have attracted the attention of someone that I have a feeling runs with an amassed power well beyond the norm. I already have had encounters with powers . . ." He ran a hand to [The Finery of Valhalla]. "Powers that I can never hope to be victorious against. Powers that could crush us all with utter impunity should they wish it. The best I can hope to achieve is not reaping their wrath."
Akame and Kurome shuddered at the thought. His eyes were deathly serious and had a faraway sheen as if remembering something. Akame joined her sister before him and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently, the act brought his focus back on them. With empathy in her eyes she gave him a hard look as she stood now that she had his attention.
"Draconis . . ." Akame dropped the honorifics and titles. He looked up at her standing before him. "You placed your trust in us when we all talked about your influence in our lives. I don't expect perfection, honestly I think you are trying too hard. You've only taken a rest twice since we arrived here in this New World. Once the day we arrived, and another the night you received word that your brother . . . your kin had passed away."
Kurome stood before him as well and nodded vigorously before speaking in support of her sister.
"Sister is right Lord Draconis. Please, rest a day, go see Queen Pendragon. One or two days will not harm us or the war effort to help Queen Draudillon and her people."
A part of his heart was warmed at their concern. They were the closest to him in regards to his NPCs and their settings. As his guards from the shadows, they knew much about his inner turmoils and struggles. Especially now that game background was now reality.
"It touches me to hear such concern for my well being." He stood and embraced them both, surprising both of them. The two sibling fiends did not struggle against the gesture of affection. "I thank you for the gesture, but I will see a respite at the end of this endeavor. I send missives on schedule, though I suppose this past one was a bit late. A long, drawn out conflict is not good for either side. The goal is to bring this to a conclusion in no more than a month."
The two fiends frowned in dissatisfaction with his answer. When Draconis got it into his head to do something, he stuck with it. He was stubborn like that. In many ways it was a strength, but it was also self destructive. He was becoming too focused on seeing the task done before resting himself. Constant meetings, never sleeping, only eating as a facade to maintain. True, no combat had been terribly strenuous much less deadly in a sense, but he had not gone to see Queen Artorias since their arrival.
True, they could make use of a [Gate] spell or he could have flown physically, but flying there in the literal sense was dangerous due to the unknown amount of time it could possibly take. Draconis did not leave to see Artorias despite wishing to deep down inside because he felt too much responsibility in seeing things through properly.
A workaholic.
He would likely not see her unless forced to do so, but they did not have the heart to make him. The delays with getting reinforcements made the time to go see Artorias, but he feared that by doing so he would lose track of time with her presence. Or worse . . . feel guilty about it by spending time with his wife while those of his forces could not see their own families. They knew deep down that Draconis would feel like he was gallivanting while his subordinates were working to ensure his wish to help Draudillon and her people.
He was not an armchair general and hated idle time. He would get stir-crazy when not doing something to keep his mind occupied. Sitting back and letting others do the work never rested well with him.
They both knew this, but could not help but stand aside and let him keep working. Draconis returned to the tome he was reading over about the economics of the world. He had the chalk pad, but he preferred actual books, something about them gave him an odd sense of satisfaction; the turning of a page, the closing of the cover when finally through . . . He was reading over the information Todd had gathered together from what they had learned from the Dragon Kingdom and their neighbors.
Akame pondered his timetable.
"A month my Lord? You really think we can decisively drive them back so quickly?"
Draconis merely nodded as he continued over the material rather forced on him by Todd.
"Indeed. We are not invading their lands in return. Merely driving them decisively back to their original borders. A counter invasion has not been a part of my plan from the start."
Placing a bookmark in the pages, he closed the tome and withdrew a scroll from his inventory's void. Unfurling the parchment, he laid it out between the three of them. A rough, 3 dimensional map of the Dragon Kingdom rose from the material.
[Guild War Strategic Map] was an item any guild that participated in the Guild Wars events received. As a registered ally of Avalon, Draconis possessed one despite his guild consisting of only himself as its main member. Guests on a roster did not count.
The map displayed the units that Draconis had deployed from The Lair around the Dragon Kingdom and their overall status. To the northwest of the village of Tildeus was The Lair within the north western mountain borders with the Slane Theocracy and the Katze Plains. To the far east of the range was the Drake and Wyvern Rider Territories. He knew that somewhere among those mountains was Phantasmagoria's All The World's Stage, but since he had not personally been there, it was not on the map.
The capital of the Dragon Kingdom lay to the east of Tildeus around two weeks ride via horseback. Here, a large, substantial number of his forces were deployed. Cecilia commanded a fairly sized company at Tildeus. Other towns and remaining cities also showed a garrison reinforced by his PoPs. All in all, he had around 30,000 Troops deployed. Somewhere around just shy of a third of his PoPs.
It was as he had been planning out this assistance to Draudillon that he truly understood the saying, "Generals think in logistics." As a man that had fought in trenches he had focused on the man-to-man issues of the fighting and while a certain level of logistical issues did cross the table from time to time, it had not been his primary concern. Yet as a leader of tens of thousands, it was abundantly clear.
Even with magic providing food and water and other drink to the troops and the extra going to the needy people of the Dragon Kingdom, the refuse and other logistical concerns like housing and materials are an issue. Though the generators of The Lair are working and can produce a sufficient amount of resources to maintain a respectable level of self sufficiency. It is suicide to provide assistance indefinitely. Getting them back up to speed as swiftly and efficiently as possible without leaving them crippled by doing so is my greatest priority.
Truth was, he was actually burning through his treasury to provide for those he gave his word to. Not necessarily in money, but in resources. He was a hoarder in the game and so he had even kept copious amounts of lower level and mid level materials. Wood, stone, metals, and other resources had been piled high and deep into his vaults. A lot of it was for cosmetic things he found homey for his sanctuary in the game. Now they were being used to rebuild homes and businesses. Reconstructing certain monuments in the capital and reinforcing broken or worn down defensive walls. Creating quality weapons and armor without being overwhelmingly powerful for those volunteering to defend their homes.
The drain would be utterly staggering in many people's eyes. Another reason to keep the war short and succinct. In the past few weeks he had provided more than a thousand tons of collective stone, wood, and metals to the relief efforts. He glanced at the closed tome by his side of economics for the Dragon Kingdom and surrounding nations as penned by Todd after his talks with Draudillon and her council. A council reformed with the assistance of the now Duke Whitepeak.
While his overall stores were not depleting at a rate that would truly worry him, his recent smudge with Todd over the overlooked form of currency reminded him that he could not farm resources as he once could in YGGDRASIL. Even if it was possible, for how long? How long would it take the resources depleted to recover . . . assuming they even would. Even though he appreciated the concept of farming and agriculture, he was no farm hand. He was not a Druidic class either, so Nature specific magic was not something he learned among the spells at his disposal.
"I hate logistics . . ." He planted his face in his hands and groaned in aggravation. Akame and Kurome frowned even as they tilted their heads to opposite sides in confusion. Draconis cleared his throat and pointed out locations their troops were at.
"Do you see the markers that the scouting teams Samael deployed on the map?"
Dragon Kingdom
Strategy Room
"Yes, we see the units you have deployed Commander Samael, yet I still believe them to hard to be believed."
All around the eastern sides of the kingdom, between the capital and their borders with the Beastmen Kigndoms were striker teams of six homonculi soldiers. These were supported by a plethora of augment squads and support staff. The map was littered with pieces representing the teams and all of their deployments currently in active status.
Normally, Samael knew he would be using the [Guild War Strategic Map], but such a powerful magical artifact was not wise to display here when there were factions against receiving outside aid from a stranger, much less of complete foreigner. Therefore, many pieces represented the number of teams within a specific radius of each other. Currently, they had 500 Teams of six, so 3,000 men and women in the field as active defenders scouting the wilds east of the capital.
Some of these teams worked in tandem as others worked in full fledged legions of 30 strong. The beastmen raiding parties thus far encountered had been putting up stiff resistance, but the initial results were promising. Losses had been incurred, but those heavily wounded or even killed were treated and raised, much to the shock of everyone at the table. That their support forces had multiple healers capable of the vaunted [Raise Dead] had sent waves through the nobility and Adventurer teams.
For Baron Whitepeak, it only solidified his belief that Draconis Brightblade was not a man to be trifled with and that spurning the man's benevolent offer of aid was suicide. That he would have his healers raise even basic soldiers from the dead was astounding. Not that they had incurred terrible losses like Adventurer and Worker teams did fighting off the raiding teams they encountered.
After one particularly fearsome encounter with a party that possessed an Alpha, the legion that faced him had lost a third of their numbers before killing the leader. However, the fight had lasted two hours and the slain members had been taken back to medical tents and camps where healers set to raising back to life those slain.
Or at least, that's what it seemed like.
The homonculi soldiers all looked similar save for the styles of their hair. For all they knew, they were merely replacing lost troops with those in the reserve ranks. Yet from what Whitepeak had gathered from the few times he had heard from Draudillon about the man, it seemed so unlikely that he would callously send his soldiers to the front lines without going himself.
A detail that he did notice as the pieces were arranged on the map, was that if a unit suffered losses, a different numbered unit would take its place. Logic followed that these troops were not the same soldiers exactly even if they did look so similar.
Not being able to hold back his question any longer, he raised a hand just enough to signal to Samael that he wished to speak. The gray haired dragon blood nodded his approval.
"Forgive me Commander Samael, but my curiosity begs the question. What of your dead? Are they given rights and buried back at your lord's stronghold?"
Those gathered about the table nodded in agreement as they also were curious. They were foreigners. To be buried in a land not your own was haunting. Surely they would not exhume the deceased at transport them home afterward? It was a constant fear for those sent out to fight, to never return home and instead be left to rot in a land not your own.
Samael wore a solemn expression as he answered. "They are given honors as appropriate to soldiers giving their lives upon the fields of battle. They are taken back to my liege's stronghold to spend their rest. Their teams are reorganized before setting back to duties."
Draudillon, who had spoken at length with Todd, knew more than what Samael was letting on. She knew of the magical nature of the homonculus troops Draconis commanded. Todd had put it in general terms that they were brought back from the dead through an exceedingly complex ritual, thus allowing them to learn from mistakes and failures and still retain their strength. Such a thing had stunned her so badly that she had dropped the drink she had been sipping on at the time. The very thought of having what seemed like an endless army of troops equal to the ranks of elite Adamantite Adventurer Teams shook her to the core.
She knew that the information that she had learned from Todd would have to be taken to her grave. If such knowledge about her benefactor became widespread, it would cause international upheaval. The True/Fake Dragon Lord Queen had a fair idea as to overall strategy they were making use of.
The way she understood things as they currently stood, the forces scattered about to the east were acting like a screen. A kind of network to intercept and take stock of raiding beastmen like a fisherman would utilize his net for a big haul. Such a tactic would normally not be feasible. The logistical side of things with food and drink much less the manpower was not something the Dragon Kingdom could afford.
Yet Draconis's forces were more than able to perform such duties with little issue. They all were well provisioned. It was mind boggling.
If their Grand Seer, Chronos had not explained the difference of planar existences with Deidre and I, I would have demanded to know just how he was able to put forth such a force. Yet knowing this is all the more stressful. Who would have thought that they were possibly from another realm. A realm so much stronger than anything we could imagine. A playground of gods . . . no . . . exalted heroes.
Learning that Draconis's stronghold was a plane like that of the celestial realms or infernal realms was staggering, but when she thought on it, it made a certain amount of sense. The level of power he held was enough to take her breath from her lungs. How else would such a powerful being possess enough magical items to make a king feel like a pauper?
Still, if he was pledged to the Queen of Avalon, what did that mean for the land he was currently separated from? She shook her mind from that train of thought to refocus on the meeting.
One particular group of scouts had run into an abnormal group of beastmen yesterday and their reports had sent a ripple of concern through them all. That unit had been decimated, their healer retreating with her fellow members bodies via magic to prevent arms and armor and bodies from falling into enemy hands. The group had been lead by a Beastman War General. A beastman only thought to have been a nightmarish rumor to the people of the Dragon Kingdom.
Alphas of raiding parties were nigh impossible for humans to defeat, much less kill. The War General status had sprung up from the -admittedly at the time dubious- reports of a young group of adventurers at Mythril Rank who had seen an Alpha beheaded by the armed and armored beastman for angering him. That single sighting had not been enough to convince the Adventurer's Guild to officially declare the status of that class of opposition.
But the healer of this surviving group brought back a clear description and even somehow had managed to ingrain the leader's very visage onto parchment.
He stood seven feet tall, and wore bloodied, spiked armor of adamantite! The war axe he hoisted was double sided and had to weight at least fifty or more pounds. They could not see his face due to the war helm's visor, but the six eye slits in it glowed with dark green glow that unnerved those looking upon it. At his hip was a sheathed hand and half sword in an ornate sheath that defied the appearances so commonly found with beastmen tribe raiders.
The tail that swayed behind him was that of a wolf. Thick and bushy, but stained with blood. A short cape tattered and torn in dark, shadowed green swayed in the winds. Bits of fur and bones used as ornaments could be seen about the armor, though no one could tell if it was his own, or just lined pieces of his armor. The helm had motifs representing a roaring tiger and had a plume of fine hair draping down the rear.
Gathered around him were Lynx like beastmen and other wolfmen as well as one or two winged beastmen of the avian variety. They too were armored, though not quite like he was. Yet the armor and weapons concerned Samael. If he was concerned as the Commander of The Lair's Guardians and overall military might, then Draudillon was too.
Her keen hearing had heard him mutter and curse under his breath. "Damn. So the leaders are finally coming out to play. Sooner than expected."
Samael made the mental note of coordinating with Chronos and the other Guardians in how to respond to this new threat. Part of him wanted to test these new threats himself, but he knew that it could possibly be overkill and tipping their hand too soon could prove fatal. After all, a group of six that could take out three teams of Level 30 Homonculus soldiers were not the same power level. No, these probably would need the higher tiered Sanctum Guards to deal with these threats.
The Sanctum Guardsmen were level 50 Vanguard Knight class NPCs of varying races, unlike the Homculus soldiers. Some were centaurs, others were dragon blooded, most were elves and hound archons. Samael knew that if he needed to do so, he could call up 2,000 of these fighters if needed. He dared not call up the whole order however. It would leave The Lair vulnerable.
"Baron Whitepeak." Heads turned to Samael as he spoke. "Give orders out to your men and those of the Dragon Kingdom that under no circumstances are any of you to engage this group or ones like this one in combat. We will take them on."
There was an edge to his voice at those last words that brooked no arguments. Baron Whitepeak nodded calmly in spite of his concern. These new foes had bested three groups of warriors equal to adamantite adventurers three to one! He dared not imagine what would happen to the troops and conscripts and volunteers under his command if they had been the ones to encounter them.
"Very well Commander Samael. We shall do as you say."
The two men nodded and the meeting came to a close for the time being. One by one the officers and nobles filed out of the room until only Whitepeak, Draudillon, and Samael remained within the meeting chamber.
Draudillon moved to the table's edge and ran a index finger along the edge of the hardwood table. She eyed the figures strewn across the map thoughtfully. Despite her powers and dragon blood, she was no military leader. The stratagems and tactics being employed and discussed went straight over her head. She much preferred to remain at peace and watch her people flourish.
What her position had instilled into her however, was the understanding of hierarchy and power figures. Of logistics and the importance of having the good opinions of the citizenry. Something that she had been slowly losing due to the invasion. Samael had a good head on his shoulders in military matters, and his peers seemed to also have a great understanding of war and how it could be affected by situations she would not have predicted. If there was one thing she did know however, it was morale.
The collective spirit of the people fighting could be a deciding factor in any conflict. As such, she had proposed going out on a daily basis in person to encourage and inspire her nation's people. Samael had questioned the decision for the sake of her own safety, and she had answered his concerns by stating that his own presence by her side would serve to kill not one or two, but three birds with one stone.
Firstly, it would encourage people and give them hope and a certain amount of solidarity. How many rulers truly walked out among their people and offered encouragement and succor with their own hands and with their own words instead of by proxy? Very few. Such a move would let her people understand that she was truly aware of their plight because she was among them, witnessing it herself.
Secondly, Draudillon heavily doubted that other than Samael's peers and his liege lord Draconis could best the man himself. Much less harm her if he was near. While it would keep him from a portion of his duties and responsibilities as Commander, the army that he lead in his lord's absence was so well polished and operated with such efficiency, that a few hours out of a day were not going to drastically effect day to day operations.
Lastly . . . and to her, the most important from her perspective . . . it showed the people that they were together in this fight against the beastmen invaders. Showing a unified, cooperation and understanding between the leaders of their respective camps spoke volumes to her citizens that they were not alone. It also showed that their benefactors also understood their plight and despite not being of the Kingdom, they were there to assist and offer aide. That she actually rather liked Samael during their time working together was a bonus.
She fought a slight heat in her face at the thought.
Ever since she had broken down and literally bawled her eyes out in her study with Samael as a witness, she knew that the incident was just about as intimate for her as baring her person to him. A leader was not allowed many of the emotional freedoms of expression that the common man or woman was. Shedding tears and breaking down was heavily frowned upon at her level of leadership, especially in public. The fact that Samael had said nothing, but merely wiped away her tears and let her exhaustion finally claim her, had touched something within her heart.
When she had awoken to find that he had set her upon her couch in the study and left her a pitcher of cold water and a glass for when she came to was an appreciated gesture. Never mind that she was certain that she had not had a blanket over her person. The only article of clothing she had not been wearing upon waking were her shoes. After drinking the water and setting aside the blanket that had covered her from the chill in the room, she discovered that he had left all the paperwork he had been working on upon the desk and locked the door to the study. She had not found him within.
Upon stepping out of her study, she found the short haired Kurome just outside standing as a sentry. The otherworldly katana wielder had smiled and wished her well before stating that if she was up and about, Kurome would end her guard duty and return to Draconis. The girl had been considerate enough, not to phase into her own shadow and actually walked away for the sake of Draudillon's nerves.
Such considerate gestures when she had grown jaded with the pedophiles only motivated to assist her for the sake of gazing upon a child's likeness lifted the pall of gray over her existence. They cared for and treated her as an individual. A leader. And for Samael . . . a lady to be treated as such with respect and dignity.
She found herself favoring him bit by bit . . .
Pushing aside those thoughts for the moment, she gestured to the northern mountains that lay claim to the Wyvern Rider territories and beyond those . . . the Baharuth Empire, where Lucia and Draconis had departed to in order to requisition additional aide. Honestly she was not expecting much. This was more due in no small part to her understanding out how Jircniv, the Bloody Emperor, viewed her personally.
Adventurer's Guild
Deidre and Marko stood in the plaza of the training grounds for the guild. The constant swish of a sword and grunts of exertion were the only things heard from the sole occupant of the grounds. Cerebrate swung his sword over and over. Sweat beaded off of his brow and into his eyes, yet he ignored the sting of the salt. His arm and jaw had been healed, but his pride was destroyed. When he had been taken from the castle courtyard, he had passed out from the pain.
Upon waking, he had thought it some kind of terrible nightmare, but the sluggish feel of his arm and the phantom pain in his jaw were all he needed to realize that the beating he had received had indeed been real. He had demanded what Martial Arts had been used against him, yet no one could answer him with any answer other than, "There were none".
His incredulity had been cut off when the master of the Guild's building had entered with a missive containing a sternly worded admonishment and worse yet . . . a loss of rank.
Cerebrate had made an utter fool of himself and been utterly thrashed and exposed for gross misconduct and worse of all, pedophilia. Such accusations would have been heavily investigated normally, but when the word of the Queen was one of the testimonies in addition to several others in higher up positions also being exposed due to it as an aftermath investigation . . . the Adventurer's Guild had a reputation to uphold and his actions had brought a dark blot upon it.
It was no secret at all that the Queen's new benefactor rather loathed the Adventurer's Guild yet had enough sense of mind to still work with them. Yet the damage was done and they had lost a lot of reputation due to it. The people worked with Draconis's personal forces more than the Guild or its members. When Father Yoland of the Church had also praised and lauded Draconis and his people, the shift of power and support had changed as well.
In other words, the citizens of the Dragon Kingdom were becoming ill disposed to anyone calling themselves an Adventurer, and favored Workers more than them. It was jarring and insulting. Yet Marko and Deidre did not hold it against the people. Truth was, they were more inclined to abandon their ties with the Guild and become Workers themselves. If it meant better survival with Draconis's military and having a clean reputation, they did not mind at all.
Still, Cerebrate had helped them get their starts, even if it had not been purely altruistic, the fact remained that without Cerebrate, they would not have made it as far as they had.
It was this sense of responsibility that found them watching as Cerebrate poured himself into his rehabilitation like a madman. He paused to eat and drink and rest, but other than that, the man had a focused, fiery purpose in his eyes now that seemed to defy description.
Whether or not that purpose was benevolent or not was another question entirely.
He didn't use a single thrice damned Martial Art at all? No man is that powerful! I was under the effects of multiple Martial Arts including [Haste]! How can a man be fast enough to move that quickly and hit that hard?!
He swung his sword of Orichalcum.
My reputation!
Another practice slash rent the air in front of him.
My rank!
A thrust pierced the imaginary target before his eyes. He held his stance as his teeth grinded together. The image of Draconis imposed itself over everything around him. Next to him was Draudillon, in her adult form. The two of them were smiling and talking, she was happy.
The Queen . . .!
A resounding clatter of metal upon the hardened, packed dirt echoed throughout the training plaza as he slammed his weapon into the dirt in anger. Off to the side, Deidre and Marko shook their heads in understanding.
For all of the man's boasting, Cerebrate had a bad habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve so to speak. He could not hide his emotions or the sources of them well. Especially against someone like Deidre, who was the scout of their team. Marko was actually the older man between the two of them by five years and that time had made him a bit more perceptive of the goings on around him.
It also helped Marko that he had been humbled some time ago about his hubris against a Sam-Arh-Eye of Bakamatsu Genpei. Never mind that it had occurred in a much more subdued venue and not in front of such a high profile audience. He could relate to the sting of being humbled, but at least he could say that his opponent had been somewhat hard pressed. Draconis had no such difficulties against Cerabrate and as such, took their leader back to "the basics" so to speak.
"Damn it all!" Cerebrate roared to no one in particular. "Who the hells is he to be so beloved by people he's not even known for a year! What the hells have I been doing!"
Cerabrate glared at the training dummy before him and instead of seeing a certain crimson haired Holy Knight, he saw himself.
No fancy armor.
No high class sword.
No friends.
Just a bright eyed youth wanting to fight evils where they may have lurked and being a hero to the people. He clenched fists tight as he cursed under his breath. Realization slowly sank in and he grit his teeth in disgust at what he had become.
When did I lose sight of what I wanted to do from my childhood?! Perhaps . . . no . . . I need to get back to my roots. My original goals . . . I need to start over. Damn I truly have made a complete ass of myself.
He began to see just what truly irked him so much about Draconis Brightblade.
It was not that he possessed treasures and equipment even he did not dream of acquiring.
It was not that he had garnered the favor of Queen Draudillon.
What it truly was . . . was that Draconis embodied everything that Cerabrate himself had once aspired to be. A beacon for the people regardless of their class or life. A virtuous knight that others could rally to and be inspired by. It was that Draconis had attained the benchmark that he had once placed for himself and beyond. But he had taken it even farther and it had shown Cerabrate how low he had truly fallen. How off track he had become and how it had festered into arrogance.
I am the problem . . . and that needs be changed.
Off to the side, across from Deidre and Marko, stood the mage and cleric of their party.
"Damn that red haired knight. He's ruined our reputations!"
The magic caster bit a thumbnail in annoyance and frustration. Seeing Cerebrate like this was infuriating. He had joined Crystal Tear to work alongside the man he considered to be worth looking up to. True, he himself was young, but he was able to cast both [Fireball] and [Lightning]. Two of the strongest spells possible.
Their cleric sighed and hummed in thought. He had personally gone to see Father Yoland after the whole duel with Draconis and the man of the cloth sharply berated him for not stopping such an event from occurring. The two men had talked and the topic of Draconis's validity and the reasons as to why the good Father Yoland so vehemently supported the man.
Yet again, Yoland began to ramble on about the angel. One Chronos according to the man of the cloth. Honestly it disturbed him just how fanatical the man had become.
"Calm yourself Tinta Wyndau. Our leader did rather make a fool of himself. Let us consider it fortunate that the healers were able to reattach his arm and heal his jaw. I have no doubts that Cerabrate will overcome this defeat. Say what you will about that Brightblade fellow, but his forces are getting results where we have all struggled."
Tinta Wyndau glared at the healer of their team in unveiled contempt.
"Easy for you to say Clare Eik. If I get the chance to show that bastard up I'll take it."
Eik groaned and proceeded to close the book he was reading from and lifted it high.
"OW!" Tinta squawked loudly as the spine of Eik's book smashed into the top of his skull. "The hell's was that for?"
His shouting did not go unnoticed by the others present. Cerebrate was the only one to ignore them as he kept swinging in practice. Deidre and Marko glanced their way in curiosity before realizing it was only Eik chastising their newest member again. Marko had not really heard what the young man had been yelling, but Deidre clearly had. She frowned, her ears drooping a little.
With the support from Draconis's forces and the encouragement of Master Mage Todd and Commander Samael, she had forgone her head scarf when within the city walls and her reveal of being of elf kind had been surprising, but not as hostile as she had feared. Perhaps it had been due to the fact that other than the homonculus troops, there had been the appearance of centaur and elven kind among Draconis's troops.
Admittedly, she found herself self conscious on a different level. The elves she met bearing the sigils of Draconis's order were refined, handsome and beautiful in equal measure be it the men or the women. They were also well taken care of, free to voice their opinions on plans and other matters about how to get their mission done. The humans and homonculus soldiers alike respected them and even freely communed and spent free time with them as friends.
Such a thing was a stark difference from the oppression the Elf King forced upon his own kin.
Yet when Tinta and Eik discovered she was actually an elf, Tinta had called her out. The young man was the son of a fallen noble house of the Dragon Kingdom. She could sympathize with the loss of his family to the beastmen, but she was no beastman. She had lead them safely through many missions together, yet this was obviously not enough. Their healer, Clare Eik had admonished her for hiding her true nature before giving her platitudes and thanks for her part in the team, but it did not change the immediate look of momentary contempt.
For her, that was all she needed to come to her decision. Deidre was done with this farce of an Adventurer's Team. She was only here now to pay her respects to Cerebrate as a leader before requesting the permission of Draudillon to become something akin to a personal guard. She knew it was rather presumptuous of her, but she honestly did not know just how much good she would really do helping Draconis's army.
An army she was discovering, were all at their own levels of power or higher. She grit her teeth bitterly at the previous hubris she had once felt as the elite of the Guild.
How arrogant of us. To believe that we are the special elite when we knew full well there are monsters and other nasties that would kill us like a person would swat a fly out in this world. It is no small wonder Lord Draconis sees us with a level of contempt after what Cerebrate did. We're the level of his force's frontline soldiers! His grunts are stronger than we are.
As she was turning to leave, Tinta called her out with a definite heat in his voice.
"That's right long ear! Turn and run. That's all your kind are good for in the end!"
Deidre fought the urge to turn and put an arrow between the kid's eyes. Her anger flared, but mostly she was hurt. Hurt that they would so easily turn on her when the truth of her blood was in the open. Did all those life and death experiences mean nothing to that damned brat? She bit her lip so hard she drew blood. The trickle of crimson vitae dribbled down her chin as she fought not to cry. Her fists clenched so hard her knuckles popped as he nails dug into her palms hard enough to also draw blood.
"Deidre." Cerebrate's voice made them all freeze. Not once had he spoken to any of them since he had begun training himself again.
Not trusting herself enough to turn to see his expression, she instead kept her eyes straight ahead.
"Yes?"
"You were right. I should never had challenged that monster. Go and do what you must. Thank you, and I wish you well."
Trembling at both her own emotions and his own thanks and blessing to leave the team, she nodded and rushed from the grounds. It seemed like the lose had done something to get through to the man after all.
Marko watched her go with a sad, yet understanding expression before turning to Tinto with a fierce glare. Marching over, he picked the young magic caster up by the collar and slammed him against a pillar.
"The hells you get off telling Deidre that?! It's due to her Talent that we've done as well as we have!"
Nonplussed by the assault, Tinta returned the glare with equal fervor.
"Anyone could have had that Talent Marko! It's wasted on a long ear like her. Why the hells are you getting so worked up over it?" A brief flash of realization came across his face before it turned to a sneer. "Don't tell me that Heaven's Spear Marko Sealbrand fell for a long ear?! You did didn't you! Hahahaa! No wonder you were always hanging around her. Did she make it wor . . ." Tinta never got the chance of finishing his taunt as Marko smashed him across the face with a powerful right hook.
The blow knocked him to the ground where he spat blood.
"Fucking grow up you brat!" From his place in the dirt, Tinta rounded on the spear fighter, his hand alight with a spell promising pain and possible lethal injury.
"Like hells I will!"
"ENOUGH!" Cerebrate bellowed as he approached them all. The disgraced Holy Lord pulled Tinta to his feet with a stern countenance that he normally reserved for those they fought against to the death.
"Thanks lea . . . GWAAH!" Tinta was cut off by harsh slap across the face by Cerabrate himself. Eik went slackjawed in shock as Marko whistled loudly at the act. "C-Cerabrate?"
Cerabrate was completely irate at this point. "Tinta, I took you onto Crystal Tear for your magical potential, but this whole incident and its backlash is my fault. As much as I cannot stand that man's contempt and bearing, there are no two ways about it. He is absurdly powerful and I acted the complete fool. I have no choice now but to own up to my faults and try to close these inconceivable gap between us. Deidre did hide her true nature from us, but she still helped us greatly. So much so that I made the egregious error of believing us the strongest of all. To make light of her contributions is an insult to us all. Her leaving is her right as I spurned both her advice and her value in our team. Such an act is not appropriate for a leader."
He turned and made way to the cleaning rooms to wash the sweat from his person.
"If we are to redeem ourselves and by extension, the Guild's, then we are going to have to work harder than anyone else of the Dragon Kingdom. Any real man would do the same. I dug ourselves into this fiasco. Now we have to dig ourselves out of it."
Marko was stunned. Had his defeat truly changed the man so much? If so, perhaps there was some hope for them yet.
Baharuth Empire
Village Square
Draconis had finished packing his equipment and gear before making his way to meet the rest of their group. Foresight had all gathered at the center of the square before Lucia and his return. All throughout the night he had not seen any sign of the youthful squire leaving the village. Of course, he had been studying all night. Pouring over the intricacies of the economic and political junctures of the Dragon Kingdom and its neighbors both the Wyvern Rider territories and the Slane Theocracy.
He had let Akame and Kurome watch out and they reported nothing of true concern.
Lucia however, appeared with a smile that hinted at something she was rather pleased with.
Hekkeran Termite mussed his hair a bit before speaking.
"Well, none of use saw the boy leave. Do you really think it wise to keep going here? Don't you need to be back at Arwintar for some arrangement with Emperor Jircniv?"
Draconis nodded but chuckled at his concern.
"I do, but I can return quickly enough. Though it looks as though Lucia found something of interest."
The group turned to her and her grin only got bigger. Arche shook her head in mild annoyance before Imina spoke up.
"Well, don't keep us in suspense, what did you find?"
Lucia pointed out toward the direction that her camp had been on.
"The boy made his way past my camp last night around the early hours before the farmers were up. He traveled with no pack and if it wasn't for my lack of lights last night around my camp, he probably never would have left."
That detail made Foresight wonder how she ended up spotting him with absolutely no light at all. Instead of questioning her on the detail, Hekkeran chalked it up to a magical item and just nodded in agreement. Arguing the details would only waste time when the boy had an obviously large headstart getting back to where ever this place was. The least they could do now was make up for the lost time.
As they set out, the Adamantite Team Pioneer watched them go from a distance.
"Boss, is it wise to stop following them?"
Vinny asked even as his ears twitched. Bartholomy nodded firmly as they turned to make their way back to Argland. Vanessa, for one, did indeed not mind in the slightest that they were leaving them be. The aura and intensity of Draconis's gaze had reminded her too much of a Dragon Lord. The prismatic orbs unnerved her to no end. Arene had honestly been intrigued and was disappointed to be leaving such potentially revolutionary knowledge untouched. Victor shared the same concerns that Vanessa did. This was beyond their purview and was becoming far too politically charged. If there was one thing no adventuring team wanted, it was to get involved in political games and machinations. Never mind those of dragons.
Bartholomy felt an obligation to at least take the job from the Dark Puppeteer Dragon Lord and in his opinion, they had fulfilled their end of the job. They had learned a good measure of things about Draconis. His mindset and tenants for one. Another was that he was obviously well equipped, far better than they dared imagine. For a different point, he was obviously dedicated to his Queen. Bartholomy felt like trying to persuade the man from the woman's allegiance would not end well for those trying to make him switch.
"Yes Vinny. I believe so. He's the kind of man that sticks to his code and his loyalties. So long as we don't tread upon those, we should be fine. Best not to anger a man like that."
Nodding in final agreement, the group began their trek back to the Argland Council State.
Re-Estize
Tina and Tia both scurried along the fields of another Eight Fingers's plantation for growing Black Dust. The cheap, highly addictive drug that infected a vast majority of the kingdom. Due to its minuscule signs of withdrawal, many thought it to be harmless enough, yet for pharmaceutical specialists, despite the lack of them, those in the know with healer connections knew that this drug shrank the brain in size. They were working with Evileye this night as Princess Renner herself desired a bit more done before moving on Eight Fingers in full.
Normally, they would have done a mission like this without the others in Blue Roses, but this plantation was not the same as others. It was one of the larger locations in the kingdom and as such, more heavily guarded than the smaller counterparts.
Fortunately, Evileye was not like Gagaran, she knew the hand signals they had developed from their days as assassins. In that way, Evileye was so much better suited to this kind of work than even Lakyus was.
Something's wrong here . . .
Tia signaled as they came to a halt at the plantation's perimeter. Tina nodded as they scanned the area before thinking about moving forward. Evileye's hands moved and they looked off to the right of the nearest shack.
Over there, by the grain shack. The guard looks like he's sitting while sleeping.
The trio cautiously made their way to the night sentry. He was sitting upon one of the benches and his hands were in his lap, loosely grasping the lantern he had between his feet on the dirt by its handle. Nothing looked out of place other than his position asleep. But they had regular patrols so how was this guard not noticed and reprimanded yet?
Wait . . . look at his neck. Tina's hand signal drew their eyes closer to the man's neck and they saw bruising clear around it. The signs of strangulation. A garroting.
Their eyes widened in surprise and paranoia. Creeping back into the overgrowth nearby, they began furiously signaling each other.
Someone other than use is here!
Who is it? Who would risk this?
Have we been noticed? Is this a trap?
"Hey! What're ya doin' ya slob! Oy! Answer me!"
The yell of a man startled the distracted trio as a fresh guard rounded the corner and shined the lantern he was holding toward the dead man. As he suddenly began to come to the realization that his fellow guard was dead and not truly sleeping, a sharp whistling sound skimmed by Blue Roses's hiding spot and struck the new guard in the neck. Their eyes widened in surprise as they spotted the object.
A dart like object protruded from his neck, a dark green feather decorated it. Tia and Tina recognized this kind of weapon. A tranquilizer dart. Not terribly uncommon in their line of work, but that meant that whoever it was had been watching this location. Which meant they had been seen looking at the body.
Yet this unseen person had obviously just helped them. They had not been shot when they had approached the dead guard like this man. Said guard fell to the ground, his lantern by sheer luck, did not spill its oil and lit wick upon the grasses or worse, in the edge of the Black Dust plant fields.
Tina and Tia glanced about at a wicked pace, trying desperately to find the mystery dart thrower. Yet all they could see from the direction that the dart had flown from were the fields of the Black Dust plant, and a scarecrow . . . wait!
The twins focused in on the scarecrow and they noticed something off. The erected bird deterrent had rather fine clothes and no straw could be seen poked out of the shirt or pants . . .
In a blur of movement, the scarecrow drew in its arms and spun, the cloak billowed in the moonlight before a figure dropped down from the pole and into the illegal crops below. There was barely any rustling as the figure hustled through the crops.
Evileye frowned behind her mask. She could sense magic at play here, strong magic at that. All of her unlife experience pointed to magic items and experienced individuals. Whoever this was was easily at adamantite levels of power.
Let's not be hasty, if they're here to disrupt this plantation like we are then they could be allies. They did not target us.
Tia and Tina gave her an incredulous look but after a moment of silent contemplation, they grudgingly agreed. None of them had caught on that the scarecrow was actually whoever that operative was. Never mind that who it was had not targeted them when they had been wide open.
Should we keep going, or . . . ?
There was a shared look of concern from the twins. Both of them were wondering how they could have been careless enough to not notice such a detail. Yet in spite of this concern, they were curious. Who was that person? This was too large a location for a single operative, no matter how talented. How many others was that person with? Why were they doing this?
All of those questions were enough to convince them to keep going. With this new card on the table also came the potential of new allies. Or at the very least, acquaintences. If they were out to stop Black Dust from spreading in some manner, then they had to have some kind of good motivation if not respectable moral codes. Such people would be valuable in the fight against Eight Fingers would they not?
A collective nod from all three of them saw the trio of Blue Roses creeping deeper into the plantation grounds.
At the center of the grounds, the Crenshaw "Needle" McMobley growled at the man tied to a chair. His lovely young wife trembled and cried at the blood splattered about the table he was forced to sit at. They were "playing" the Knife Game. Which Crenshaw was actually pretty talented at. But whenever he was forced to repeat his questions, he would nick the man's finger. Each refusal to answer or lie would see the nick grow deeper until the finger was cut right off. Currently, the unfortunate man had lost three fingers, his ring, middle and pinky digits were scattered about the table. The wife was held back by a few of his boys.
Too bad they were all forbidden from touching her, but it was the upper crust's orders. Didn't matter in the end, this fool was going to get knocked off the moment he spilled. Yet for some reason this one had a lot more guts than the last schmuck that had gone through this. Crenshaw was actually pretty impressed by this latest victim of his. The man growled, screamed, cursed and glared death at him, but did not cry and simper like others. He could tell if this guy made it through this and got away then he'd be back to kill him if he found him.
Not that it was going to happen mind you. This guy would be gutted and quartered as an example to those who would try and exceed their station in the organization. The woman was just unfortunate to get involved with this guy, but she was still important as one of the nobility.
A hard knock at the only door into the room drew everyone's attention. The dim lantern light that sifted through the opaque, dusty window of the door revealed a shadowed figure on the other side.
"What in da hells is it?! I said no bargin' in!"
"But Needle! There's a group out 'ere deman'ing yer person."
The group shared a mutual look of confusion. Who the hell was here to see him this late at damned night?
"Grr . . . a'ight! Dammit!" He slammed the knife into the man's hand, pegging him there. He screamed and cursed his being most violently. The woman shrieked and cried.
Crenshaw "Needle" McMobley spat on the floor as he shoved the door open, knocking the messenger on the other side down as he did so.
"Blitherin idiot. Get up! Git yer arse up!" he gestured angrily at two of the stronger men present with a serrated dagger. "You two! Wit' me!"
The men trudged to the open air foyer of the plantation to see three tan cloaked figures. He frowned as he took in the sight of them. Around them were five dead men. One had his knife in his throat, another had his arms cut away just below the elbow. The third was one of the women thieves in the group and she had a dagger in her back where the heart would be. The fourth of the dead had his legs removed from the knees and his chest had his own hand axe buried in his chest.
He could not recognize what might have caused the last man's death. He lay face down, the back of his head completely blown away. Gray matter and blood and bits of skull bone were scattered all over. All the lackey's present were huddled here and there, away from these three people. The ground immediately around them lay barely perturbed.
From what he could tell, these three were extremely skilled. He noted no signs of heavy breathing, nor did they appeared ruffed up in the slightest. Were these assassins sent by the higher ups? Was this an inspection squad? Damn the fuckin higher echelons demands, the current batch of Black Dust was not ready to be harvested yet.
"Yeh? What you lookin' fer?! If yous got nuthin, then get on."
The central figure spoke and they were surprised. It was a woman's voice that echoed throughout the foyer.
"Your operation for Eight Fingers ends this night. You may either surrender peaceably, or face the ferocity of the Howling Wind of Avalon."
McMobley could not believe his ears. Who the hells were these idiotic scragglers to challenge the might of Eight Fingers when the Royal Family and the Adventurer's Guilds could not?
Spitting upon the ground they stood upon, he pointed threateningly with a second dagger he drew from his belt.
"Oh? Think ye can threaten the likes o' us? Who're you ta claim such a ting?"
A pair of strangled cries sounded from behind McMobley and they turned in time to see the woman and the man they had in the room being carried up and over their heads by two other tan cloaked figures. They both jumped over them and landed behind the three in the foyer, leaving several members of his company slack jawed. They had just jumped fifty feet in distance and twenty feet in the air and landed like cats. The woman and man were set down in the middle of the five mystery people.
"Needle" McMobley gaped. How had they gotten in without a sound?
"Well done you two. I take it our other guests are on their way?"
Mobley frowned at this broad's words. Other guests? Did they have reinforcements on the way? This could be bad. Where the hells were the alarms? His question was partially answered as a sixth member arrived from beyond them. This one seemed to blow in like the winds their proclaimed to be like.
The newcomer answered her question.
"Ma'am, the trio of Blue Roses is on the way as we speak. I made sure they saw me." The tan cloaked mystery infiltrator spoke softly.
Damn it all! Blue Roses?! The Adamantite Adventurer team of Re-Estize? He needed to kill this maggots quick before they got help.
"That tears it! Kill'em!"
The woman screamed in terror as the man clutched his bloody hand and cursed them. The men, realizing finally that they vastly outnumbered this group rushed them as they drew daggers, knives, crude swords and axes. Some of them hefted short spears while a few of them merely rushed in with clubs and other blunt instruments of death. The lead cloaked figure scoffed lightly as they closed in.
"Squad . . . weapons free."
The entire group reached inside their cloaks and suddenly men began to drop like flies. The whistling howl of blades slicing air met ears of those not instantly slain by the initial attacks. Those in the back began to slow in shock as those closer to their intended targets died in bloody gouts of gore.
Throwing knives flew from the cloaked figures's hands like water from a pitcher. Each of them throwing blades ranging from daggers, to hatchets and oddly shaped discs of pointed steel. Each throw and movement of hands ended a targets life as they found necks, eyes, hearts, and even mouths for those letting loose a battle cry.
Mobley was utterly stunned. Fifty men dead in a blur of death. Ten men by each one of the cloaked members of this hit squad. Only their leader had never moved, never threw a weapon. The other four had done all the work. Each of them formed up as a out facing four point cross around the man and woman as their leader apparent stepped forward. He still had men, but they were shaken by the ease that this group dealt death. Were they affiliated with Six Arms?
"A-are yous Six Arms?!"
The leader of the group scoffed in offense. "That pathetic collection of scum? Please, have some class."
The woman's cloak fluttered to the side and he and the rest of his men swallowed. A long, wooden object with metallic accoutrement was gripped in her hand. 44.45 inches long and weighing in at just a hair over nine pounds, it sported a tri-edged spike at the end that sat underneath a hollow metal protrusion. What was that? Then a thought light up in his head and he shuddered.
He had heard the rumors of something shaped like that from their branches in the south. From the Empire of Bakumatsu Genpei.
A firearm.
A "Demon Stick" or "Thunder Tube" in other regions of the continent for the roar and near instant, bloody death that came after whenever those weapons from Bakamatsu Genpei revealed themselves on the battlefield. Even their greatest agents had never been able to infiltrate far enough to find much less see the plans to craft such powerful weapons. They were the weapon of boogie man stories in the underworld. Turning common farmers into warriors that could fell even Adamantite Adventurers with ease without hardly any training at all.
She blurred out of existence before he felt a pain in his neck. As he began to choke on his own blood, he glanced down to she the woman knelt below and in front of him, the weapon jabbing him through the throat. The tri-edge spike twisted, tearing his neck to shreds before it was withdrawn from his dying person.
"You aren't worth the cartridge."
The rest of the men began to turn and flee with the sight of their leader being killed with absurd ease. What few men trying to escape did not realize was that Tia, Tina, and Evileye had already figured out the events here and as they tried to flee, they were killed swiftly by the vampiric blades of Tia and Tina or the spells of Evileye. The group from Avalon made particular note of Evileye and her spells.
"Well well . . . it seems Blue Roses can handle themselves quite well."
Evileye and the twins warily eyed the woman who had moved so quickly, so quietly that Tia and Tina were almost ashamed to call themselves ninja. They had witnessed the display of flying weaponry from this leader's team and had not seen anything like it. Normally throwing weapons were backups or parlor tricks.
"A clever and fancy way to disarming yourself. Why would you throw away your weapon? That's stupid." Gagaran's words echoed in all three of their minds, but this had not been just "disarming" themselves.
Evileye took the spokesperson role as neither Tia nor Tina enjoyed being the spokeswoman of their team.
"I am Adamantite Team member Evileye of Blue Roses. Who are you and what is your goal here?"
The weapon she used disappeared behind the cloak again.
"I am Cathari of the Howling Winds of Avalon. Well met, Evileye of Blue Roses."
The trio swallowed heavily. They had only recently discussed Avalon and its Queen of Knights with elder Rigrit. How did they already have agents here?! Evileye had only one thing go through her mind.
Oh crap . . .
Out in the Plains of the Dragon Kingdom
In a small camp, an adamantite armored wolf beastman sat upon a boulder. The six slit visor of his helm radiated an eerie cold green glow. Around him, four others gazed out toward the direction of the capital of the Dragon Kingdom.
"So our Master's old nemesis has arrived as he thought he would. So far we are not impressed."
He hefted the war axe over his right shoulder and motioned to one of the winged beastmen to his side.
"Go, take what news we have for the Master back to him. He will be pleased to here of this development. Gather the other War Generals. We have work to do. HAHAHAHAHAAHHAAA!"
Reader Review Time!
WOW! It's been awhile since I updated . . .
Dodges veggies and pitchforks . . . okay okay I get it! Yeesh.
Mario: No, he actually cannot [Raise Dead]. That spell he has to make use of a magic wand that will allow him to cast the spell. As an Overlord evil undead with no "Cleric" levels he cannot cast healing magic, much less resurrection magic. The wand allows him to, but it has limited charges.
The whole "Raising" Shalltear isn't even an actual spell. It's the guild system where NPC's of set levels can be brought back and "reset" via in game currency. In Shalltear's case, the 500 MILLION Gold. Good gods. Also, the aftermath of the Cocytus vs Esdeath fight is not concluded yet.
UndeadLord22: It will actually bite him again later on.
17konbro: Most people in the whole medieval setting did not generally live past their 30s much less 40s due to poor living conditions. This does NOT mean they did not eat well. Contrary to popular belief, peasants ate rather decently compared to nobles, but disease and poor health and lack of medicinal knowledge generated poor health and higher death tolls due to illnesses.
Modern medicine and health studies and the availability of food and lack of need of hard, harsh labor at the young age when adult hood back then was around 11 to 13 is a large difference. I assure you, six feet at 15 is astounding in young men. You are an exception, not the rule.
The average height of a man today is between 5ft. 9in. To 6ft flat. Most men do not get much taller than that. This is among hundreds of thousands of men.
Having lived around the world and across several states in the US. Six foot is rare. I am 5ft 10in. Most people I meet and work around are less than 6ft.
Omegadramon2: The Men of the Kingdom Arc will be going in full shortly.
Lutemis: So you'd rather I re-write everything most people and readers already know that Ainz has done? That'd be several extra chapters of "Oh, we've seen this already, why is he bothering?"
Everything so far including the Lizardman Heroes Arc happens within two months . . . TWO months of them arriving in the New World. All the chapters thus far are what they have be up to during the same time frame as what Ainz has been doing up to the Lizardman Heroes Arc. Now at the very end of it is when the "canon" changes and Ainz is involved.
Ainz is NOT inconsequential in my story. But the changes and his role won't show until the establishment of the others in the New World is made solid. This will be shown within the next several chapters.
Wacko12: No, Merlin is not one of the members of Avalon in the New World. The only members of Avalon in the New World are Artorias, Mordred, Gareth, and Lancelot.
MadDan90: Here's the next chapter! Tag, you're it!
Fanguy59: Muahahahahahhahaaaa! You wanna cookie?
Doraemax: The Dragonsong War is now very much a real thing due to the lore from YGGDRASIL becoming a reality for those involved. It's the same as the NPCs becoming real along with all their background.
Crosswald: It gladdens me to see dots being connected even if they are not all accurate, or are they? I'll let you stew in those hypothesis of yours. EVIL CACKLING!
Dimension Distorter: I wrote in an actual flashback of YGGDRASIL because I agree with what you have said in your review. Kugane glosses over the how's and what's of the developers of YGGDRASIL earning the ire of players as being "shitty". Granted, there are PLENTY of ways developers are shitty, look at the whole gaming loot boxes, pre-order craps, and others "service" games.
Evilsod: I explained Draconis's ability to speak the ancient elven tongue. It's the backgrounds he wrote into his characters. All backgrounds of all things in YGGDRASIL become real and that is canon. Ainz wrote in the Albedo's background that "She loves Momonga" and guess what? She obsesses over him. So much so that she actually has shown a dislike and growing hatred of "Ainz" as far as his taking of the name for himself. She wants to just love Momonga, not the Ainz they all worship.
In the talks with Jircniv, he really should have bowed and the nobles in attendance muttered about it. His pride showed by not bowing, even by taking a rather arrogant tone with him.
His own virtue and righteousness is a flaw itself when under set circumstances. They just haven't appeared in the fic yet due to my jumping perspectives between Avalon and the Dragon Kingdom/Draconis.
Draconis is a character archtype of the "flat" character. A character written to not change in leaps and bounds like others in this fic will do. He is a kind of "benchmark" a type of character written to be the benchmark and foil that others will either grow into. Or fall by the wayside as a part of their own development. Draconis is written as a kind of constant, a steady existence regardless of what goes on.
He's like the Gandalf of Tokein's works. He never really changes that much. Yet others eventually reach his level and some even surpass him in certain regards. See Aragorn, even Sam and the other hobbits. He is like Aslan of the Chronicles of Narnia. The others around him rise or fall.
I can easily see why Draconis is either liked or hated. That's up to you, but he is what he is.
Generation Zero: Thank you for the review and I am glad you are finding my attempt of fleshing out the world bit by bit pleasing. It's no perfect by any means, but I am glad you enjoy it.
Guest: Thank you for dropping in!