Disclaimer, I own nothing, don't sue me.
Chapter 5: Stranger in a familiar land
The inquisitor stood atop a rocky hill overlooking the plains below. Known as the field of gold, it was a grassy expanse that turned gold when catching the suns rays at dawn and evening. Militiamen from Camlann were scattered around the place inside foxholes, carefully camouflaged from prying eyes.
Glancing at his pocket watch, he noted that it was about time for the Reconquista 'ambassadors' to show up. Sure enough, he could see a few black specks in the morning sky steadily growing larger.
The uprising was coming along smoothly, as it turned out, dragon knights were bullet resistant, not bulletproof. Shoot em with enough bullets and they'll go down like anything else.
After Baron Dreyar's untimely demise, it had taken the Reconquista forces a further six days to realise that he wasn't returning and something had gone awry. In the reprieve he had been graced with, Saito had been able to set up a supply line of weapons and supplies to the village through judicious use of his awakened's inability to tire and carry loads that would break a normal man.
Those able and willing to fight had been put through a crash course on them and basic squad tactics. They weren't anything close to a professional army but it would have to do. Back home, most of NOD were made up of men like these anyway, discounting the black hand and his own Marked of Kane, militia born from the disaffected who refused to put up with GDI's tyranny and incompetence were the backbone of their army.
By the time Reconquista had marshalled a second squad of knights to check up on the situation, they found themselves face to face with a village full of semi-competent militiamen armed with guns far surpassing anything the rest of the world had.
Negotiations had broken down almost immediately when the knights demanded an explanation for the baron's disappearance and then the heads of the ones responsible upon learning of his execution.
Saito had noted that the technological level on Halkeginia was about the same 17th century earth discounting the use of magic. Firearms at this point were novelty items really, the only way they would pose a threat was if their wielder was a marksman or they were arranged in a massed firing line. Even then the terrible accuracy of the damn things and their slow reload times made for terrible weapons against a mage. If both missed on their first shot, chances were that it would be the mage who would get the second spell off first.
Reconquista's agents knew of this and had already discounted the militiamen arrayed against them. One of the nobles had the brilliant idea of threatening to burn the villagers alive when they refused to meet their demands, summoning a ball of flames as he did so, immediately qualifying for a Darwin award.
Whatever assurances they received from Saito, it was hard to overcome a fear of magic beaten into them since birth. The nearest militiaman panicked and squeezed down on his trigger. The others followed suit immediately and the knights went down in a hail of AP ammo.
Unbeknownst to Saito and the villagers, a single Reconquista scout had been in the area and bore witness to the massacre. His report had made it back to Midgand fortress and a single messenger showed up two days later.
Coming under a white flag, the soldier indicated that his superiors at the Midgand garrison were aware of Camlann's actions and were convinced that it was some kind of terrible misunderstanding.
The messenger was quick to assure Saito that Reconquista wasn't an enemy of the people, they were here to save them from the true oppression of King James. To avoid any further unnecessary bloodshed, Reconquista was requesting a meeting at the field of gold to 'parley'. Just a simple face to face meeting where they could settle their differences peacefully.
The inquisitor had snorted upon hearing that and would have shot the messenger if Charles hadn't intervened and convinced him that shooting someone coming under the banner of a truce wouldn't do much for the legitimacy of their movement.
Saito grumbled but acquiesced in the end and agreed to meet Reconquista at the appointed time, in three days at dawn in the centre of the field.
He knew how this would end, with the field of gold becoming the field of red, god willing, it would be Reconquista blood staining the fields on not the villagers.
An age-old tactic, offer an olive branch and request a meeting to settle things peacefully. They come with open arms, you come with loaded guns. Negotiations, peace talks, inspections… all viable means to exterminate your enemies in one fell swoop.
Charles had been vehemently against preparing an ambush for the ambassadors, it was dishonourable and would scuttle any chance of peace. Parley was done as equals, one does not simply parley with the intention of slaughtering the other like animals.
"I am well aware of that, but you see, we're not equals. Reconquista has proved time and again that they see commoners as nothing more than animals to be stepped on. You parley with an equal, you do not parley with a rabid beast, and to them, that's all we are. Mark my words royalist, when we meet we'll be lucky to get an ultimatum from them before they start attacking."
Saito snapped his pocket watch shut and stowed it inside his jacket and proceeded to make his way towards the designated meeting point.
His eyes picked out four figures on dragonback approaching, the numbers were smaller than he expected but… wait… there it was. There was a small distortion in the clouds as something pushed through it.
There was nothing in the sky aside from the ambassadors and it could have easily been a rouge gust of wind but he'd been a NOD commander for long enough to recognise the tell-tale signs of a stealthed vertigo approaching when it cut through the cloud cover.
Whatever was hidden was far larger than a vertigo and far slower if the rate of displacement was anything to go by. 'Must be one of those airships I keep hearing about. So they do have stealth tech… or magic at least.'
Keying the comms, he broadcast a message to the squad leaders that he had been able to outfit with radios. "Attention militiamen, Reconquista ambassadors will arrive shortly. I count four dragon knights and I want all gunners to keep them in your sights once they land. Rocket squads, keep your eyes on the clouds, there appears to be at least a single airship hiding in them currently hidden by magic. Watch for a distortion in the air and when it turns hostile, bring it down."
A chorus of acknowledgements reached his ears and Saito smiled to himself before continuing forwards at a sedate pace. Things were proceeding according to schedule, Reconquista had been given a bloody nose and they were out for blood.
Now he just had to beat back their little subjugation force to send a message that the uprising wasn't to be taken lightly. If he could capture and hold Midgand fortress itself… well, that would cement them as a new power in Albion.
Saito had a good feeling that if he managed that, recruits would start pouring in from nearby villages. After that… he'd cross that bridge when he got to it, no sense in planning too far ahead.
-line break
Saito stood alone facing off against four heavily armoured Reconquista nobles as the tall grass rustled in the wind. Plate armour covered every inch of their skin and a wind barrier was overlaid to further increase defence. The still invisible airship floated overhead, the only indication of its presence being a slight distortion in the air.
The lead noble dismounted and approached while the others remained where they were, wands clutched tightly in their fists.
"Are you the leader of this peasant uprising?"
"We don't have a formal leader per say but you can consider me a spokesman of sorts."
"I see. So you're the one responsible for the murders of our fellow Reconquista crusaders. Explain yourself."
"What's to explain? The first time, they tried to murder the innocent, I don't take kindly to that. The second they threatened armed militiamen, their deaths were self-defence. Both times they brought it on themselves so I'd hardly call it murder."
"Insolent whelp! What you speak of is heresy! Under the law founder Brimir laid down, the commoners are to bow to the nobility! You do not raise a hand against your betters filthy mongrel, no matter what."
"Funny you should say that." Saito graced the knight with a sardonic smile.
"You see, I recall that your scripture has a clear hierarchy in place. Commoners obey the nobility who in turn obey the king… the same king you're trying to dethrone. Nice to meet you pot, I'm kettle."
The noble's response was to fire a wind blade that nicked Saito's cheek drawing blood. The inquisitor idly reached up to feel the wound while the noble started to rant.
"How dare you insinuate that our holy crusade is heresy! King James is a fool and unfit to lead. His refusal to do anything to reclaim the holy land from those accursed elves is treason! Reconquista's success is proof that he has lost the blessing of the founder and that we are his new chosen!"
Continuing to point his wand at Saito, he readied a more destructive spell to wipe the eyesore from the face of Albion. "You die here heretic."
"Really? You're just going to murder me like this? I thought violence was forbidden when parleying. This is supposed to be a negotiation." The inquisitor feigned outraged but still managed to deliver his lines in a complete monotone.
"Parley? Fool, you parley with equals, you do not parley with dogs who don't know when to die. Tis a shame that only you are here, no matter, we'll just torch the village to rid the world of the rest of you upstarts."
"How very predictable. But. I did come here to negotiate and negotiate I will. Ballistic diplomacy is my favourite kind after all." Saito grinned as he spread his arms out as though welcoming the knight into an embrace.
With the signal given, eighteen rockets took to the skies, all aimed at the distortion in the air. Quite a few of them went wide but the airship was struck by at least two thirds of volley. Explosions blossomed along the outline of the ship as the rockets breached the hull.
The invisibility cloak failed instantly as the damage disrupted the spell and the battleship appeared out of thin air. Black smoke billowed from where it'd been struck and the ship was starting to list.
With their massive target now in sight and still stationary, the rocket squads had an easy time lining up their shots. A second wave of green lights surged towards the doomed vessel and every rocket found their mark.
The battleship shuddered under the impact of the second volley and the inquisitor could just barely make out panicked crew members trying to run damage control before the entire thing fell to pieces from the damage.
However advanced Albion's airships were, they were still made out of wood. And wood tended to fair poorly against munitions designed to damage even the toughest armour GDI could field.
Whatever magic was keeping the flaming behemoth afloat finally failed and the wreckage sailed through the air, breaking apart as it went, scattering debris and body parts across the plains.
"The Belfast! No! You! What trickery is this!?" The noble screamed in panic as he waved his wand about, trying to find the source of the attack and firing off spells randomly.
Saito's forces were too well hidden in their foxholes and the tall grass just made hiding that much easier. The spells just went wide with no discernible impact save a few craters where they struck empty ground.
"In your own words, the uprising's success is proof that Reconquista has lost the blessing of the founder and that we the people are his new chosen!"
Taking advantage of the panic engulfing the four 'ambassadors', Saito issued his next order. "Gunners, you heard the man. Once they're done here Reconquista plans to burn Camlann to the ground. We will not let that happen. On my mark! Ready! Aim! NEGOTIATE!"
The staccato of gunfire that was the chorus of fifty rifles going off at full auto was a glorious sound and music to the inquisitor's ears.
Plate mail and wind barriers did nothing against the sheer firepower sent their way. Sure, it might have stopped the first few bullets but the other hundred plus rounds? Not a chance in hell.
The knights and their dragons came apart like wet tissue, one second they were there, the next just a chunky red mist marked their passing.
Once the last guns went silent, Saito addressed his men once more. "Excellent work gentlemen! You have proven your dedication to the defence of your home and family! But, this is only the beginning. We've give Reconquista a bloody nose and a black eye to go with it! Mark my words, they will retaliate. We've come too far to turn back now, your only options going forwards is to either run or fight. Now I don't know about the rest of you but I refuse to live under tyranny. I choose to fight! I will die before I'm made a slave! And I will continue fighting so that all of Albion may be free! WHO'S WITH ME!?"
The answering roar was almost as deafening as the gunfire.
Saito's grin grew larger.
-line break
"It's not done. Attacking someone during parley just isn't done!"
"They struck first royalist, I have the wound to prove it. Any chance of peace died with their first blow."
"I KNOW THAT!" Charles raged and slammed his fist down on his bar table, the three empty mugs next to him rattled from the blow.
"Is nothing sacred? Those rules were set even before the time of the founder and we've been upholding them for millennia now, they exist for a reason! If they're broken then no one will ever trust a request to parley again. To think the damned Reconquista would stoop so low." Charles ended in a whisper and chugged his fourth mug.
"Rules only work when all parties follow them and a sufficient punishment exists for those who step out of line. They fail when someone refuses to play by them and is immune to prosecution. Reconquista's actions are high treason, punishable by being hung, drawn and quartered. I highly doubt there are any other rules they're unwilling to break since they've already committed themselves."
The royalist spy glared at Saito with bloodshot eyes. "Maybe so. But that doesn't mean you should completely disregard the law like that. They exist for a reason damnit! You went there with the intention to kill them!"
"I did no such thing. I went there to negotiate and negotiate I did. They struck first and we responded in kind. If they had kept things civil, I wouldn't have given the order to fire. Their actions proved beyond a shadow of doubt that there will never be peace between us as long as one side still draws breath. For god's sake man, they see us as nothing more than animals! For the people to live… no for the people to thrive, they must be destroyed to the last man."
"So what? All nobles are evil then? you won't stop until the entire nobility has been exterminated? Alright! Fine! I admit it! King James hasn't been the best monarch and he has made mistakes… but who hasn't!? He's human damnit! We all are! I'm viscount Charles of York! Shoot me then!"
Saito shrugged and looked around the empty bar. Fortunately, none of the commoners had been around to hear that little outburst. "Now why would I do that? Have you oppressed the people? Are you going to become a despot and lord over everyone with your fancy magic?"
"NO! Of course not! How the hell can you even suggest that!?"
"Then why would I shoot you? Contrary to what you may believe, I have nothing against the nobility. My beef lies with those who abuse their power over others. Not all nobles are tyrants and not all tyrants are nobles."
"Yeah? Somehow, I don't think the commoners outside share your point of view. They'll kill every noble they get their hands on if they could and you've given them the means to do so."
"Can you blame them? Life dealt them a shit hand and now they're striking out. I'll do everything in my power to ensure the revolution remains civilised. Either way, the existing system is broken beyond repair and it will be torn down so that a new one, a better one can take its place."
Charles snorted in derision and began fixing himself another drink. "And I suppose you'll be at the head of that new system? A new king to lord over the masses?"
"No. I am a general, my place is on the battlefield not in a throne room. Whether there'll even be a single fixed leader is still up for debate. I don't know what kind of government will be formed at the end of this, my only concern is with restoring liberty to the people. I will not be a part of that government in any case."
The viscount stared disbelievingly at the inquisitor. "Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe. You do all this and have no intention of taking over? I can read the writing on the wall, the royalists' days are numbered and it'll be a match between Reconquista and this revolution soon enough. And if you have anymore miracle weapons like those you're handing out like candy, Reconquista won't last either. With such accomplishments, the people will raise you to kinghood."
"And I will not accept. I have spent nearly my whole life fighting a tyrannical regime, I will not be part of the rise of another. Whatever new government is formed at the end of this, it will be one based on meritocracy, not nepotism. Hell, you look like you have a decent head on your shoulders, why not try to run for the leadership?"
"Wha!? No! No no no no! I'm not made for something like that. A-and I'm a noble! The people will never accept that!"
"If you campaign on the basis of deserving the position because of your nobility then no, they will not accept you. Earn the support and trust of the people with your deeds, your actions and your behaviour. The only difference between a noble and a commoner is the ability to use magic. That has absolutely no bearing on your competence in other areas. Do well and you'll gain the people's adoration even if you're a member of the nobility."
"But I can't, I'm not worthy… and for all his faults, I can't betray my king."
"Chances are, anyone who claims that they're worthy are anything but. If you won't step up I won't force you, it does leave us with a problem though. The revolution needs a proper leader, one that isn't me. If you won't, I don't have any other candidates. The villagers are spirited but not quite ready for that role yet. Having a noble as a champion of the people would also show the rest of the world that we are committed to building a better future for everyone. That it will be built through mutual cooperation and not the oppression of any one group."
Silence descended on them as Charles mulled the words over in his head. "…I have one possible candidate who could fit."
"Do tell."
"Crown prince Wales. He's still young, about your age actually, and unlike his father has the adoration of the common folk. That was before Reconquista's rebellion though, I don't know if he retains that good will anymore."
"Interesting. Where is he now?"
"I…I don't know. I was assigned as his guard awhile back and we were supposed to hamper Reconquista by harassing their navy with our own ship in hit and run attacks. That changed about two months ago. His highness came across information that there was another member of the royal family hidden away somewhere on Albion and Reconquista was aware of her existence. Royalist forces are too badly compromised for him to send anyone else to investigate."
"So he went alone and you wound up stationed here for intelligence gathering."
Charles nodded before continuing. "Indeed. He was supposed to update me with details every two days with a magical artefact he carries with him. But shortly before you arrived his messages stopped coming. The last I heard from him was that he'd discovered something massive beneath Saxe-Gotha… after that nothing."
"I see… that complicates things. I'll look into it."
"You will? How?"
"Believe it or not, my base happens to be nearby. I was planning on returning after today anyway to start work on building up the supplies needed to march on Midgand. After the beating we gave Reconquista, they won't be trying anything funny for a while so now's the perfect time to do so."
"March on Midgand? You can't… my god you are serious. Midgand is one of the strongest forts in all of Albion, even the royalist base of Newcastle is less fortified. They have cannons that outrange even the largest guns on the Lexington, even with the new guns attacking it is suicide!"
"Indeed, but the guns are just the beginning, I have more than a few aces up my sleeve. The only thing I need is time to prepare them, time that we now have. Leave the supply issues to me, you just continue training the militia. Oh, and feel free to report to your superiors in the royalist camp, I don't mind at all."
"You don't mind that I'm reporting vital information to potential enemies? You're… you're not quite right in the head are you."
"So I've been told. At this moment the royalists aren't my enemy, Reconquista is. The enemy of my enemy is my enemy's enemy. Attacking us does nothing except weaken the only things standing in Reconquista's ambition regardless of who wins. Besides, if this crown prince is as great and adored as you say, he might end up as one of the leaders of the rebellion."
Saito stood and dusted himself off before making for the door. "It is in everyone's best interest that you continue as you have. I should go, sun's going to set soon and I need to cover a lot of ground. Have a good day Charles."
-line break
Wales took a deep breath and bit down on a piece of cloth before carefully extracting the broken arrowhead from his side. Spots danced across his vision as the pain nearly overwhelmed him.
His breath coming in short pained bursts now, Wales lifted his wineskin with shaky hands and poured its contents on the wound. The water washed away most of the dirt and grime and his consciousness nearly went with it.
Biting back a scream, Wales started to bandage himself. Once satisfied with the results, he pulled himself onto his feet and proceeded deeper into the castle, using the wall to support himself.
The cold marble on his skin provided some measure of relief from the pain and kept him focused on just putting one foot in front of the other.
He left behind the wreckage of two massive stone doors and exhaled a painful sigh of relief when none of the murderous golems on the other side managed to breach his makeshift barricade.
His attire was mostly rags at this point, near constant combat for several days straight had worn his royal attire down to almost nothing. Dark rings circled his eyes and his skin had taken on an unhealthy pallor after being stuck in this hellhole for so long.
Wales grit his teeth as he stumbled and nearly blacked out again. Drawing strength from thoughts of his beloved in Tristain, he forced himself to remain standing. "I will not die here. Not like this. I refuse! Do you hear me! I REFUSE!"
Whatever strange magic was at work in this twisted land reacted to his declaration and a minute amount of power trickled into him.
The crown prince exhaled as the pain lessened somewhat and he could breathe easier. For the millionth time since he'd been stuck here, he wondered what sort of sorcery had been weaved over the place.
To think it had started out so simple, interrogation of a captured Reconquista spy had revealed that the late archduke de Albion, his uncle, had a daughter that he hid away before King James had him offed. Further investigations had led him to Saxe-Gotha, a land once held by a noble family that had been purged during the same incident as his uncle.
That was when things got weird.
The supposedly almost completely worthless piece of land had an entire bloody city buried beneath the ground. There was a local legend that during the time of the founder, Albion had been part of the mainland and not a floating continent.
Some unspecified disaster had struck and to survive the mages of that time had found a way to float their largest city. Their actions had uprooted the city and its surrounding lands, forming a new landmass that would one day come to be known as Albion.
The spell while miraculous had the side effect of trapping the entire city in a cocoon of earth, cutting it off from the sun forever. The survivors of the disaster had no choice but to abandon the city to live on the surface and overtime the source of their salvation had passed into myth, remembered only by those who continued to live in Saxe-Gotha, the original exit to the surface.
To the locals, it was nothing more than a tall tale passed down through the ages good for nothing more than a laugh and maybe attracting tourists since no one had ever discovered the mythical city.
Wales refused to discount it however. Perhaps the hidden city was an exaggeration and didn't exist, that didn't mean the legend didn't have a grain of truth to it. Most nobles had an underground shelter built for emergencies, with Albion being in the clouds, destructive storms were not exactly rare. The shelters just tended to be attached to their residence instead of out in the middle of nowhere.
If one really was built here in ages long past, it'd be the perfect place to hide secrets… like say a hitherto unknown member of the royal family. Enchanting the entrance to only reveal itself to select individuals wasn't too difficult to do either.
And so the prince had set out on his search, aided by an artefact passed down through the royal family. It looked like nothing more than a simple bracelet but it had two unique properties that made it indispensable.
First it could communicate across long distances by creating a portal of sorts through which two parties could speak. He'd been using that function to update his loyal retainer Charles about his situation thus far.
The second was that it could detect any and all forms of magic. Even those designed to be hidden would be clearly seen as a glowing aura as long as he wore the bracelet. And that led him to the entrance to the underground city.
A truly enormous amount of magic was concentrated in an empty field, so much that it was blinding to even look at. Searching the area with magic had come up empty as the wards cleanly deflected his detection magic.
Wales gave up on subtlety in the end and just opted to blast the ground with his most powerful wind spell, confident in his ability to escape should anything go wrong. His excavation efforts uncovered a passageway the size of a house dug into the earth.
The walls were burnished grey and unfamiliar runes glowed softly in the darkness. It was a straight corridor sloping downwards gently until it disappeared into darkness.
The prince had paused only to update Charles about the discovery before venturing into the abyss. Things went to hell in a handbasket as soon as he left the light of the surface behind. There was a rumbling and the ceiling had collapsed behind him.
Attempts to remove the blockage and return to the surface failed as his spells threatened to weaken structural integrity further, potentially burying himself alive if he persisted. Bereft of any other option, Wales had trudged even deeper into the earth, his path lit only by a small orb of light he summoned and the glowing runes.
The path never once deviated from a perfectly straight line and he soon lost track of time. After walking for ages without coming any closer to an exit or seeing any change to his surroundings, frustration had built up inside and that morphed into anger.
"This is ridiculous… there must be a trick to this place. These walls can't be real, its not possible to have a perfectly straight slope downwards for this long. I should have exited on the other side of the continent by now."
His frustration spilling over, the prince slammed his fist into the wall, expecting the pain to grant him a surge of adrenaline.
Instead of bouncing off the metal, the fist sailed straight through the same wall he'd been leaning against just seconds before. As soon as he stopped believing in it being reality, the wall stopped existing.
Off balance from the lack of impact, he stumbled forwards and the rest of his body passed through the illusion as well.
Beyond it lay an inky black void and most importantly, there wasn't a floor.
Falling into the abyss, his flight ended as quickly as it began when he landed in a lake of liquid. More viscous than water, he felt like swimming in syrup. Flailing around in the darkness, Wales managed to reach the surface and crawled onto a beach of white sand.
Coughing up the liquid that he'd inhaled, he looked up to find himself staring at a pure white wall that shimmered even in the darkness. Ivy grew out of the cracks that lined it and parts of the battlements had collapsed.
It was old, older than anything above ground. The portcullis was shut tight but next to it a section of the wall had crumbled away, leaving just enough room for him to slip through.
A quick check of his inventory revealed that he had lost everything in his pack, only his wand, bracelet and wineskin remained. Trying to contact the viscount had failed when the portal refused to connect, showing only his own face in it.
Without supplies and no clue where he was or how to return, the only option left to him was to move forwards and hope something behind the wall would prove useful.
A sprawling city lay beyond it, completely devoid of life. Buildings in varying states of disrepair lined the deserted streets. Illumination was provided through glowing crystals placed atop curious metal poles planted into the sidewalk.
Despite the obvious age of the place, Wales could identify similarities in the design philosophy to Newcastle and Londinium. Perhaps the idea that the people of Albion once came from this strange city wasn't so farfetched after all.
Magic was everywhere in this place, it was in the ground, it was in the buildings, it was in the very air itself. The spellwork was completely unknown to him despite all the studies he'd done on magic theory. There was no arguing the effects however, he felt rejuvenated just by being here, his hunger and tiredness faded away as he moved.
Not a single soul could be found and he wondered when was the last time someone actually ventured into the city. He doubted that his unknown cousin had been sequestered here somewhere but this was an amazing find in its own. This ancient wonder put to shame everything they had built above ground.
Unfortunately for the prince, any supplies that might have been left behind during the exodus had long since been reduced to dust by the passage of time and he was still no closer to an exit.
Surrounded by the strange yet so oddly familiar landscape, Wales found the days slipping through his fingers. The magic sustained him, nourished him, kept him on his feet. He didn't tire, didn't hunger, didn't thirst.
He tried committing as much of his discoveries to memory as possible and slowly but surely made his way deeper into the city. His pockets were already jammed full of various knickknacks he'd picked up along the way and he sorely regretted losing his pack in the fall.
After an indeterminate amount of time, he finally reached the city centre and exited the twisting streets finding himself at the foot of a marble bridge lined with more ornate versions of those light emitting metal posts found in the city. A moat of the same liquid he'd landed in earlier flowed silently beneath it.
A magnificent castle untouched by the decay afflicting the rest of the city waited at the other end of it. Made from the same white stone as the city walls, tattered banners flew from the towers in a non-existent breeze. Stained glass windows caught the light and reflected it, making the structure a work of art.
"Impressive."
Striding across the bridge, trouble found him as soon as he stepped off it. The sound of metal grinding on metal reached his ears and the moat began to bubble.
Armoured golems twice the size of a normal human marched out of the moat, armed with a variety of weapons, their hostility was proven when an arrow narrowly missed skewering him.
Wales had retaliated with one of the strongest wind spells he had, a blast of wind honed into a single sharp spear that could penetrate most defences to destroy his foes.
He had grinned when the spear completely ripped the golems in its path to pieces, scattering their broken parts around.
That grin faded when the parts started reassembling themselves.
His attacks didn't do much except temporarily incapacitate them. His path back into the city was cut off by the golem army that was still pouring out of the moat.
With no means of taking down the metal monstrosities and no way back, he sprinted towards the castle itself, hoping that it would be a more defensible location.
The 'twang' of a metal bow string was a sound he would come to hate. When the golems were unable to keep up with him due to his speed enhancing wind spell, several of them had deployed greatbows even larger than them.
The devastation they wrought was unbelievable. Only sheer dumb luck had allowed him to dodge the first one when he tripped over a loose tile. The arrow, itself a behemoth the size of his arm, had passed overhead and struck the castle wall.
The projectile punched straight through it and from the sound of destruction coming from the castle, the next few walls behind it as well.
The prince poured his willpower into his spell and retaliated with a supercharged blast of wind, knocking down the approaching golems and deflecting several smaller arrows. The greatbow golems had anchored themselves into the ground and weren't blown away like the rest, they did have to cease firing preparations however.
That gave Wales enough time to reach the castle gates and blow them down with his spell as well. He didn't know where he was going, only that he needed to get inside lest the archers pick him off without effort.
Any hope that the golems would cease pursuit died when they came charging in after him.
Thereafter the 'battle' took on a nightmarish quality. The lighting was poor and the golems both outnumbered him and were more familiar with this place. He found himself walking into ambush after ambush and only luck and creative usage of his magic prevented him from a one-way trip to the afterlife.
A deadly game of cat and mouse that saw him evade the golems and hiding in a single spot for hours on end till pursuit squads passed and he could move on. Inevitably, he'd be spotted and the chase would be on again.
His luck ran out when he breached the inner keep. An arrow had been deflected by a wind spell but bounced off a nearby pedestal and buried itself in his side.
The pain destabilised his spell and instead of another focused spear of wind, he wound up firing a ball of compressed air that exploded into gale force winds upon contact. The force behind the spell caused the hinges on the stone doors to come undone, dropping the slabs on top of the golems and squishing them flat. A part of the ceiling collapsed along with it and sealed of that entrance.
Wales prayed that that would halt the golems but his gut told him that he would never be that lucky.
With his path back once more lost to him, the prince could only push forwards in the hopes that whatever lay ahead would be better than what he left behind.
Sucking in a deep breath, he raised his head high and marched into the darkness, refusing to let his circumstances beat him down.
He was the crown prince of Albion and he would meet the unknown as befit his status.
"I remain unbroken."
Author's notes: this will be the last chapter for a week, personal commitments ahoy! On the issue of 'mind control' familiar runes, I don't actually agree with that. I've gone through some of the novels and best I can tell is that the runes act as anti-depressants mostly.
The human familiars are supposed to be guards/soldiers/knights etc, anyone who's ever served in the military or law enforcement will tell you that skills and physical abilities isn't all there is to it. Mental fortitude is just as important if not more so since panicking in a stressful situation will get someone seriously hurt or killed.
From what I see, the runes are there to keep the familiars in the game so to speak, it prevents panic attacks, suppresses homesickness and depressive feelings and provides focus so that they can act when necessary instead of freezing up or worse, it's there to keep them alive.
And the brainwashing into complete obedience thing is BS, if it really did that Louise would have zero problems with Saito in canon since he'd just do everything she wanted exactly as she intended instead of constantly bickering with one another.
There is the issue of Brimir and Sasha however but I haven't read that far yet so that's a can of worms I won't touch.
Anyways, the Wales bit was completely extra and unplanned by the way. It just sort of appeared. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
