Chapter 2-Recruits

"-understand!" Naofumi gaped as he went from a library in Yokahama hugged by a gorgeous pretty girl to a hard stone floor inscribed by a glowing green hexagram engraved on the floor. He groused, "Oww. What the hell happened?" He looked at his right arm with astonishment. Now affixed to his arm was a small rectangular silver shield with black trim lines that tapered to a point at its base and had a recessed gemstone that looked almost uncannily like a cross between a camera lens and an eye.

"Wonderful," a robed man exclaimed in front a line of what looked like hooded mages. "The summoning was a success. Please save our world, Oh brave Heroes."

He spoke in harmony with three strange voices, "What?"

He looked up and saw in the dim light the figures of three other young adults brandishing a sword, spear and bow.

The closet figure was a thin dark-skinned African American with a short unruly hair wearing a video game t-shirt, blue jeans and thick glasses. He bowed awkwardly, "Um, hi there everybody. I'm Jerry." He shook his head as his hand curled around the hilt of his elegant sword right above the luminescent blue gemstone built into the blade handle. He made an aside to Naofumi as he helped him stand up, "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, dude."

Naofumi nodded mutely and saw the Spear Hero took a step into the light revealing a frowning high school-aged boy in black slacks, white shirt, dark blue hair and annoyed black eyes partly hidden by his rectangular plastic-rimmed glasses. He clenched the spear tightly, "Hi. I'm Clint. Charmed." The red gemstone built into the haft below the speartip pulsed with magical energy.

The final figure was a blue-eyed brunette girl with a grey hooded sweatshirt, dark pants, and sneakers. She ran her fingers over her white bow with an orange gemstone where the arrowhead would align with the weapon, "Woah. That was a rush. I'm Charlotte, everyone." She smiled and gave a cheerful wave.

"N-naofumi. I'm Naofumi," the confused Shield Hero muttered. Although all of the other warriors were strangers to him, something about them seemed off somehow, as if they were understudies for acting roles who stepped in when the stars all got the flu on opening night.

The lead mage bowed deeply, "Brave Cardinal Heroes, will you help us save this imperiled kingdom?"

The Sword Hero lightly punched Naofumi's shoulder, and beamed, "No way! It's like a d20 game come to life. I don't believe it. I'm happy to see what Captain America, Hawkeye, and Aquaman here have to say, but I'll chip in!"

The head mage flashed a worried frown in incomprehension, but Naofumi chuckled, "The Sword guy just said yes."

"Wonderous!"

Clint sighed, "I didn't ask for this. Can we be sent home?"

The middle-aged emissary looked sorrowful, "I fear until the Waves are over, that is impossible, Sir Spear Hero."

The high school boy frowned but gave an affirming nod, "I'll see what I can do then."

He smiled gratefully and looked over to Charlotte expectantly and contritely.

"Hey, when in Rome," she sighed with a shoulder shrug.

"Um…"

The Shield Hero shook his head in mild amusement, "The Bow Hero says yes too."

"Marrvelous. Right this way, Sir Heroes. All of Melromarc is in your debt. His Highness, King Aultcray desires an audience." The head Mage bowed and beckoned the Heroes to follow him.

Naofumi rubbed his eyes as he was more disturbed by nagging feeling about his fellow Heroes than the fact that he had just been teleported into a damn JPRG. Was he going crazy he wondered as he mounted the stairwell up from the Summoning tower and towards the throne room.

…

A few hours later, Naofumi was still in a slight haze as the Sword and Bow Heroes eagerly pointed out the features of the vast castle with him as they went for a stroll. Predicably, Clint had taken out his laptop and muttered that he would be staying in as the other three summoned Heroes explored their new home away from home after supper.

Much to his disgust, King Aultcray had turned out to be an arrogant a-hole who lavished praise on his three companions and seemed to go out of his way to ignore and antagonize Naofumi. Wasn't the Shield Hero there to save the kingdom, of Melromarc too? However, Jerry had stridently interceded and said that Naofumi was his new friend and he was to be accorded the respect he deserved. The grey-haired king had looked downright annoyed, but gave strained yet polite courtesy to the Shield Hero for the rest of the meeting.

Even more surprisingly, he found out that each of the Heroes had a video-game like control screen to manage their stats, inventory, skills and companions. His American and Canadian fellow Heroes had readily shared what they had figured out from their interfaces. None of the other three Heroes had seemed fazed by Naofumi's cluelessness about Melromarc or the fights against the Waves; which again gave him pause. He should be overjoyed that his new allies were so accommodating, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something powerful and dangerous was interfering in his destiny. All four of them had turned out to be from the same Earth and the same year, albeit from different parts of the world. A clanking sound on wood striking wood abruptly broke him out of his reverie.

In a courtyard surrounded on all four sides by high walls and overlooked by arched windows, two guards in armor were sparring. Clad in her steel and cloth armor, Varri sparred against her twin brother Cyril with wooden weapons. Over and over again, Cyril easily exploited her blind spot and stuck her left arm, side, and chestplate.

Varri cursed under her breath. Despite it being several weeks since she had lost her left eye during the First Wave, the healed eye socket still itched annoyingly. She spat out in frustration, "Damn the Waves, I will never serve the Sword Hero like this. He will turn me away tomorrow for sure." She looked over to her brother who regarded her with sympathetic light brown eyes. She threw down her fake spear and sighed, "Not only did I have to resign my commission from serving in the Second Princess' bodyguard, now I won't even cut it as a mercenary with this damn blindness!"

Cyril gently replaced his wooden sword and shield on the weapons rack and calmly removed his left steel gauntlet revealing a mutilated hand short his middle, ring and pinky fingers, "I learned to compensate from taking down that assassin that was after the Princess last year. So can you, big sis." Cyril was five minutes younger than his twin sister, but he had a good few inches of height on her. His dark brown hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him a handsome air, save for the jagged scar over his left cheekbone. He reminded his passionate sister, "The Second Princess told both that we are to serve our new masters without delay. She made us promise to look after this world instead of her."

Ah, Princess Melty, you are too good and pure for this world, Varri thought with a tinge of sadness. She would dearly miss serving her indomitable and spirited mistress. Yes the King and the First Princess had done questionable things, and clamped down on the cursed demihumans for their heretical obedience to the Shield Hero God. Still, it was for the best that Melromarc hoard the Heroes to save its own people…right? She picked up the lance and stowed it away, "Her Highness is right. We are great grand-children to the last Sword Hero. We should support the new Sword Hero with all our strength."

"He will find a use for you sister. After all, you still won the coin toss," he added with a chuckle. "Be brave and walk behind Master Jeremiah White in the Pledging ceremony tomorrow morning." Cyril had made sure he was on duty when the Cardinal Heroes had an audience with King Aultcray Melromarc. He been silently astonished that the fabled Heroes had looked so young and ordinary, aside from their bizarre sense of costuming.

As young teens Cyril and Varri had pledged to serve the Shield Hero and the Bow Hero in honor of their ancestor and his best friend, should new heroes ever be summoned. They bickered for nearly a year over who got the right to serve the Sword Hero; only a coin toss by their exasperated mother finally settled the issue. Ah, well. Serving Master Charlotte Curtiss promised to be quite the adventure.

"No, my foolish brother. He will take one look at this eyepatch and say-"

"Avengers assemble," Jerry cheerful called out as he descended a stairwell with Naofumi and Charlotte in tow.

"M-m-my Lord! Greetings Sword Hero and Bow Hero," Varri stammered. She looked at Naofumi's frown and hastily added, "Hello Shield Hero."

"It is a true honor, Heroes of Legend," Cyril added smoothly. He calmly replaced his prosthetic and noted his future Mistress was surprisingly unassuming. She wasn't excessively plain or pretty. She had a face one would see in a crowd and forget instantly. Still he found her amused smile fascinating.

Charlotte picked up on that the ruggedly handsome tan-skinned guard was poorly trying to hide the fact he was gawking at her. She elbowed Jerry with a smirk, "Stop being such a dork Jerry. No one in Melromarc has heard of your precious DCU."

Jerry buried his face in his hands at Charlotte's all too obvious gaffe with a suppressed sigh. He spoke in a whisper, "The Avengers are a Marvel property. Ugh." Still he knew most non comic book/movie fans couldn't tell DC comics apart from Marvel comics if their lives depended on it.

Varri had no clue what they were talking about, but she bowed deeply, "Sir White, I w-would like for you to know that the Pledging ceremony in the morn will have your followers choose which Hero to journey with. If you will have me, I would serve with you above all others."

Jerry wiped his thick glasses clean and looked at the tan-skinned maiden with short dark hair, an eyepatch and an earnest and direct manner. Her plate armor and dark pants and tunic made her even cooler in Jerry's book. He enthused, "Too bad I can't call you Nikki Fury as a nickname. That would be awesome."

Naofumi sighed good-naturedly. And his family though he was the unrepentant anime and manga otaku? Wait till his family get a load of his new friend.

In the meantime, Cyril burst in a stifled laugh as his sister squirmed.

She inquired uncertainly, "Umm, was that a yes, Sir White?"

He clasped her on the shoulder and beamed, "Hell yeah! Welcome to the new era of the Heroes of Justice!"

She was utterly at sea over the Sword Heroes statements, but her heart flew up into the darkening skies in joy as she realized he would accept her as a follower. "I won't let you down, Sir Sword Hero! I, Valeria Starnovna Kuznetsov will gladly give her life for you and the Kingdom of Melromarc!" She shifted a bit uncertainly on her feet, "You can call me Verri for short if you prefer."

Jeremiah looked at bit embarrassed by the loud pledge of devotion, but he was inwardly pleased as well, "Sure, sure, but call me Jerry, Sir Verri."

She was taken aback by his casualness, but nodded obediently, "Oh course sir. I won't let you down."

Cyril stepped forward, "Sir Curtiss, with your indulgence I would be honored to serve in your party."

Charlotte tapped her lips thoughtfully, "Mmmm, I'll think about it."

He was deeply disappointed at the rejection, but he was at least happy for his sister. He gave a stiff bow, "I will not trouble you again, Bow Hero. My apologies."

"Oh geez," Charlotte laughed. "Doesn't anybody in Melromarc have a sense of humor?" She shook hands with the confused guardsman, "You're in, don't worry."

"Many thanks, Sir Curtiss. I am Cyril Starnovich Kuznetsov." He was truly humbled that the Heroes seemed to be much more down to earth and friendlier than he ever had reason to expect. He still found their strange and oddly casual demeanor disarming, but it would be a quick adjustment for him he hoped.

"Charlotte. Only my profs call me 'Miss Curtiss'."

He nodded vigorously, "As you wish, Sir Charlotte."

Naofumi frowned as he picked up a sorrowful voice coming from underground, "Hey someone is singing from behind that barred window over there? Is there someone else in this kingdom that speaks English?"

Varri's mood fell as she knew exactly who the terrible singer was. She huffed, "It is a disgraced, disgusting traitor in the dungeons. Pay scum like him no mind."

The Shield Hero could not leave an enigma like this unsolved. "Sir Varri, show me to him, if you please."

"But sir," she protested sternly. She had been raised to dislike the Shield Hero from birth as only that Cardinal Warrior was revered by the accursed demihumans. Still she couldn't just flatly ignore his direct command. She muttered under her breath, "O-of course. Right this way, Sir Shield Hero."

"Thanks."

Jerry waved to Charlotte and Cyril, "We'll be right back. Carry on."

The Bow Hero gave an amused wave, "Seeya."

…

Deep in Melromarc's castle dungeon, the failed Hero Takia bitterly chuckled to no one in particular as he leaned against the cell wall surrounded by moss-covered stones on every side except the front facing a wall of closely spaced iron bars. His back bore the marks of overlapping lash scars courtesy of Her Highness, the sadistic First Princess of the Kingdom of Melromarc. Although he had never seen her face, he had known bastards just like her in each of the previous two Wave wars; crazy-eyed maniacs too caught up in backstabbing and betrayal to consider or even care if their actions could ever boomerang back on them.

He sang a tune from memory that the former Master, the last Bow Hero, had once taught him decades earlier. When they had first met, he had been a 20 year old American GI with haunted eyes who had been involved in what he called the 'Pacific Island hopping campaign'. The Bow Hero had darkly refused to elaborate any further, not that Takia blamed the battle-numbed warrior for refusing to dwell on the horrors of war. He crooned in a raspy voice, "You always hurt the one you love. The one you shouldn't hurt at all. You always take the sweetest rose, and crush it till the petals fall. You always break the kindest heart, with a hasty word you can't recall, so If I broke-"

Naofumi flung the corridor door open in with an intense look in his eyes, as Varri, the Shield Hero, and the Sword Hero burst into the narrow hallway over the protests of the dungeon guards. The black-haired Hero stared down the tortured mage with an open expression of astonishment. "You there! How the hell did you learn an Earth song?"

"Your predecessor from Earth, Sir Shield Hero," he replied calmly. Ah, that familiar dull ache of nostalgia that once again, that meant he was getting swept away by yet another tsunami. He gave a ghastly smile to the Naofumi as he wrapped his battered fingers around the rusty bars, "Good evening, Shield Hero, Sword Hero, and Guardsman Varri."

The Royal guard snarled with her green eye ablaze with fury, "You lost the right to use my name when you turned on the House of Melromarc, Takia! You son of a bitch!"

"Ah. But now that the Heroes were summoned the Overwrite spell infesting the Hourglass dispelled on its own, yes?"

Varri refused to answer; although she was too proud to admit that blasted Mage was right. She debated stabbing the jerk right here and now partly for his betrayal, and partly to spare him further tortures from the bloodthirsty First Princess. With clenched teeth, she opted to not get in trouble by acting without sanction.

"Oh man, you look…awful," Jerry spoke with a shudder as he saw this scarecrow of a man with shaggy raven hair, crudely splinted broken fingers, and despairing dark eyes regarded Naofumi with a creepy smile. "I-is there anything we can do for you Mister Takia?"

The mage gave a soulless chuckle, "You can employ me as follower. But I doubt either of you would care to hire a born loser like me; especially as King Aultcray Melromarc would take a dim view of my parole."

"Of course he would! Any sane person knows that you deserve to rot in here," Varri raged. "You could have destroyed the Dragon Hourglass and damned our entire kingdom!"

"Yes, I deserve whatever I get." He gave a polite bow to the three champions, "As you wish. I bid thee adieu, brave warriors."

Jerry felt incredibly bad for this poor wretch, but before he could voice his concern, Naofumi cut him off preemptively, "I'll talk with Takia…alone please."

"I-uh…sure dude. Good luck, Naofumi." He guided the protesting Spear guard out the door, "C'mon Varri. The Shield Hero will catch up with us later."

"B-but sir! I don't trust that horrid mage!"

Jerry flashed her a bright smile as the walked up a crumbling stone stairwell back up to the courtyard to rejoin her brother and Charlotte, "Let them be Sir Varri. Mister Naofumi isn't about to break him out."

"Feh! Fine, Sir Sword Hero. I will respect your decision, although I will never trust that damn Mage ever again." The tan-skinned guard crossed her arms and pouted. Why was her new Master so soft-hearted? It could easily get him killed. Luckily for him, she would be the very first to stand as his stalwart supporter with the Second Princess' blessing.

Back in the dreary underground hallway Naofumi tapped his chin thoughtfully, "So what did you do to get thrown in here? It must have been pretty damn impressive."

"I obeyed a little girl's request to alter fate with the Overwrite spell. The crystal informed me that your intended companions should have hailed from Japan from different Earths."

"Wha-? But we just established that we all come from the exact same Earth!" He knew it. This 'overwrite spell' thing had been responsible for his nagging worries.

"You will find these three Heroes more to your liking, I am assured."

"Wait a second? You were the one that sent that gorgeous auburn-haired girl to yank me out of Yokohama?" He clenched the bars himself, his face now inches from the battered mage, "Who is she? I want to know her name!"

"I'm sorry, sir. I did not weave the enchantment as the violet gemstone was created and bestowed upon me by our mutual benefactor. I simply threw the crystal against the Dragon hourglass to activate its effects. I presume that you will be reacquainted with your 'summoner' in due course." He gave a tired smile, "I can see that you remember your encounter with her with fondness. I hope you do not resent her for her cameo role in your calling."

"I could never hate her," Naofumi responded softly. He flushed pink at the memory of her soft body pressing into him as he recalled her faint perfume, "She was…l-lovely."

"Well, I believe that she will be at your side someday as your fortune will assuredly be infinitely greater than mine."

"Well that's a load of crap. The king and everybody else in the court were looking at me as if I was useless compared to the other three Heroes."

"Yet of all the Heroes summoned, you were the only calling that was left unaltered. You possess great fortitude, and are clearly destined for greatness." He gently rolled up his right sleeve revealing a swirling mass of luminescent green magic; his mark of failure. "Shall I give you a leg up, Sir Naofumi?"

The Japanese youth nodded firmly. What else could he do? He was stuck with his useless Shield weapon, after all. He blinked as the green 'eye' in the middle of his tiny shield lit up brightly, "What are you doing?"

"Rendering aid, good sir." His failed mark flared brightly and much to Naofumi's surprise, his rectangular silver shield trimmed in black with a 'v'-shaped base and glowing green gemstone in its center suddenly magnetically clamped firmly onto the bars. The Shield Hero yelped in shock, and then desperately tried to yank his pinned arm off to no avail.

"Transferring Shield arts," Takia intoned quietly as his black eyes lit up briefly like a computer screen, "Unfortunately I can only bestow one skill tree onto your shield."

"What…are you a Shield Hero too," the astonished young man gasped.

"No. I was never gifted that honor. How I wish it could have been so." The transfer generated so much magic energy fluxing between the True Shield and its deformed incarnation, that the bars soon glowed red, and then white hot.

The angular shields switched in a flash to form a rusty circular cutout of corrugated steel, with the gemstone still dead center. Naofumi finally pulled away and panted out of breath as his overview screen flashed a notification of a new skill set added: Failure shield skill tree enabled. He gaped as the lid weighed easily ten kilos, yet he could swing it about effortlessly. He gaped at the rather pathetic shield had rusty holes in it, "What…the hell is this piece of crap?"

"Ah the Failure shield. My old friend," Takia chuckled as he calmly sat down back on the floor, even through three of his prison bars were melted into a glowing puddle and he could simply walk out of his cell. "It will bestow horrifying levels of misfortune to your foes."

"B-but what…"

"Oh, that is a fragment from a RAF airbase prefab metal shelter called a 'Quonset hut'. Consider it a gift from the last man that wielded your Cardinal weapon. Use the 'default' shield image to dispel it."

"Ah." With a tap of his finger the ridiculous shield reverted back to its more familiar angular form. "I-er…thanks Takia." He rubbed the back of his hair awkwardly, "What about the cell bars?"

He eyed the three foot gap in his bars with a faint smile, "Oh, that. Please alert the guards that I will need new accommodations. Good night, Master Naofumi."

"Good night," the youth spoke as if he was in a disturbing dream. Had that just happened he wondered as he left the poor man behind as the guards rushed in and started angrily berating the prisoner.

…

All she could feel was the warmth of a tearful embrace as she begged forgiveness from her generous true master, "Forgive me kind sir!" A little Tanuki demi-human girl of about ten stirred from her slumber by a fit of uncontrollable coughing. She lay on her side within a cubical iron cage eerily lit by the glow of flickering magically illuminated lanterns, and surrounded by dozens of other caged demi human and beastmen slaves underneath a deceptively cheerful striped circular canvas tent. The dream of embracing her beloved master in a library was nothing but yet another cruel fantasy. She sat up and glanced around the hell that she had been plunged into with hopeless pastel pink eyes. Her long untamed auburn hair hung in disarray to her waist. Fluffy rounded brown ears poked out of her hair and a matted tail emerged from under her slave clothes. Her only attire was a tattered brown tunic, iron shackles on her wrists, and a rusty collar on a chain that tethered her to her cage; not that she possessed any strength to run away.

Raphtalia coughed violently as she realized that she would be joining her dear friend Rifana any day now; her only remembrance of her was the dirty paper flag on a toothpick resting in her palm. Maybe it was for the best. Several weeks earlier her village was ravaged by the First Wave, and her parents were killed by a two-headed demon dog. Then the hateful Lord Rabier's troops had sacked the ruined village just as her friends and fellow villagers were starting to rebuild it from the ground up. She and her best friends Kiel and Rifana had been tortured on a daily basis by the sadistic lord himself. Only when Rifana got sick and passed her consumption onto Raphtalia did the beatings cease. In disgust for never crying when she was tortured, her master had thrown her away to the portly slave trader, and she had been forever parted from her dying friend.

An unwelcome gravelly voice intruded on her melancholic musings, "That must have been a nice dream, little girl. You were actually smiling for once." She looked up fearfully at a fat, bald, portly man dressed up in a gaudy parody of a circus ringmaster costume: fluted white shirt, white gloves, black boots, dark pants and matching feather-lined tailed jacket, maroon vest, crimson bow tie, tall top hat with a white ribbon, jewel-encrusted wooden cane, and an opaque pair of silver-rimmed pince-nez. His face was square jawed and bereft of any hair except a thick mustache and he wore a perpetual unnerving smile filled with blocky teeth. The tanuki demihuman instinctively reared back of the sight of her slave trader master. The only nice things she could say about him was that he fed her cold gruel and water once a day, and never hit her. She panted out of breath and then sputtered into hacking coughs again.

"Take comfort in your dreams, little girl." He cheerfully twirled his cane around as a rustle of the tent flap disturbed the quiet night with only the intermittent whimpers, growls and snarls from the other slaves breaking the silence. His smile widened to comical lengths as he saw a quivering woman dragging a hare demihuman child of about twelve behind her. He pointedly ignored the fact that both the brown-haired maid and white haired albino girl were both spattered with blood all over their clothes and faces, as he knew a transaction was at hand. "Hello my dear. Was your hare demihuman slave not to your master's specifications?"

The brown-eyed maid shivered as she wiped blood off her hands onto an already blood-soaked towel, "G-god take your cursed demon seed, slave m-m-master!"

"So you wish to sell her back? As I recall, despite her muteness, she was vended for forty silvers. I'll take her off your hands for twenty five silvers. Maintenance and remarketing costs need to be factored in."

The maid balled up her fists in helpless rage and screamed, causing Raphtalia to retreat into the back corner of her cage. "D-damn you! Master put this pathetic girl to work mucking out the stables and grooming the filolials. Then some demonic little girl wearing a hood waltzes into the filolial pen out of nowhere and claimed that this demi brat was to be returned to you at once! My master laughed and sicced his dogs and two of his guards on her and with a flick of her wrist, they all fell down…c-c-cut into pieces! My master fainted dead away at the horrid sight. Oh by the Three Heroes God!" She fell to her knees and sobbed into her hands.

"That seems rather inconvenient," the Slave master relied with a smirk as he counted out 25 silver coins and put them into a bag. "Here you go my dear. This whelp here is off your master's hands for good. Tell him I will be happy to supply any and all of his future needs. Have a pleasant evening my dear."

"Go to hell, you devil," the sobbing maid roared, slapping the slaver and running off with the bag. His unnerving smile didn't even waver slightly.

Raphtalia looked over at the bloodstained, but pretty albino demihuman girl with long pearlescent white hair who looked back at her with inquisitive sky blue eyes. She was shocked when the stablegirl crouched down to adjust one of her boot laces and dropped a folded note next to her cage before walking off with the slaver to be washed, magically branded, chained up, and thrown into a slave cage again. Between coughs she read the note with disbelief, "I was sent to help you. Hold on as long as you can, Miss Tanuki. Have faith in the works of the Shield Hero God. –Usachi"