Amongst the flattened and burning buildings of the massive city, a young girl in ragged clothes sat down a slab of fallen concrete as the threads of tanks that had crossed the once clean and manicured streets had beaten and destroyed the already tired asphalt and rendered it down to a mere gravel road with potholes of varying sizes, some large enough to fit an entire sedan.
But this wasn’t enough to stop the massive convoys of logistics trucks of the foreign Eastern army from passing through as parks and lots were turned into stockpiles. The transport companies relentlessly pursued the moving frontline as the ground would occasionally quake from the sound of the artillery and missile launchers firing on the outskirts of the metropolis.
With shoulder length black hair, a frail and boney body, she gently sat down a linen sack and opened it. Revealing the fresh potatoes inside and the placard with a badly written “For Sale, Potato 25 Lira”. The Sun was particularly harsh that day as the thin smokestacks leftover from the brutal fighting covered some of the view to the blue sky above.
“Please! Buy a potato!” she cried out to the endless line of haggard and beaten civilians. All of them, wearing badly torn clothes, some even burnt marks on them and others, even missing a part of their shoe or its pair. “Potato for sale! Only Twenty Five Lira!”
One old bald man, with his hands on his torn slacks, hears the kid and walks to her. His legs were visibly damaged as he walked with a heavy limp. “Two, please.” He brought out his wallet that had dust stuck to its surface and handed out a Fifty Lira bill. As she takes it, the ground rumbles with a battered and heavily damaged Main Battle Tank with ten passengers on it passes by behind them rustling the already battered ceiling with dusk covering his already brown hair, its original black color all gone. Its tracks cranking with the driver constantly performing small adjustments to make it fit on the beaten road.
Low flying helicopters suddenly flew right above her. The downwash of the Super Hind Gunships Making debris fall from the already destroyed buildings.
Turning around, all she could do was stare at the sharp blocks of concrete falling right towards her. “Ah, sis. I’m sorry.”
Closer and closer it got, the soldiers and the people were all too tired to even look around and be aware as she stared right towards her impending death.
“Maria!” a young voice cries out and shields her with a thick aluminum plate. The shards of concrete falling off from its smooth side as he drops the heavy piece of junk and turns around to her. “How’s the business going?” This made the little girl hug him and hold his hand as she bowed her head. “Thank you! Thank you so much, Eren!”
“Geez, you should really react.”
“I… my body just froze when I saw it.”
“Come on, you should sell where the Alliance is handing out rations.”
The young boy then took the sack of potatoes as he held Maria’s hands. The two kids walked into the muddy street where undetonated bombs with green stickers on them were still present, and Asian soldiers with EODs were busy at the ones without stickers. The professional worked hard in removing the caps and disabling the warhead as distant sounds of diesel engines and the sporadic bangs of the sound barrier were broken.
Far from their homes, the foreign soldiers just looked on to the two kids passing them. The pitiful young girl and the rugged and unbathed boy heading West into a park and at an intersection, the wheels of the 5 and 7 ton transport trucks were larger than them as carts of MREs and canned foods was bought left and right and Humanitarian groups were hard at work aiding those in need.
The young boy quickly approached one of the soldiers standing guard on the curb as the long line of citizens waiting for their turn at the food center had no end to it. “Mister! Do you speak English?” looking down, the exoskeleton grunt with his futuristic combat helmet complete with a head on display tilts his head at the visitors. “Yes. I was formerly College student. How may I help you?”
He then pulls in Maria and opens the sack of potatoes he had carried for her. “Can we sell this?” the soldier in his honeycomb camouflage fatigues quickly reached for his comms. “Ruba Four-Six to Actual. I have two people asking me if they can sell potatoes near the ration center.” a reply was quickly given, making the soldier look up as he swayed his body from left to right.
Eren though notices the grunt is only a decade or so older than him, with the kid's face under all the high tech equipment was no different from a young man who has his life ahead of him in the civilian world. Maria though was distracted by the ashen flakes falling from the skies as she looked up to the dark clouds and the numerous zigzagging trails from the jets and missiles going into the direction of the frontline. “Hey kids! Go in, ask for a Colonel Jackson. He has designated zones for people selling wares.”
The young boy’s face lights up as he drags Maria along with him. Running into the woodland coloured tent as they ignored the line and headed straight to the front desk. “We are looking for a Colonel Jackson!” The lady at the counter serving soup quickly points further in the back, making them head deeper into the camp that spanned right into the block as white repurposed military vehicles delivered supplies from one end to another.
After asking around for a few times, the two kids were led to the militarized side of the camp where there were Sentries poised at the hardened gates and drones patrolling the air constantly. The boy and girl just stood frozen at the sight of the heavily armed soldier, wielding a Light Machine Gun with a linked belt that heads into an ammo pack on his back.
Clad in kevlar from head to toe, the two Sentries that stood at the gate were akin to hulks to the two kids but Eren pressed head on and the soldier just grunted at the two guests he had to entertain. “Colonel?” the kid nods and with a quick say of a word, the gate opens wide.
Inside, there were fifteen Main Battle Tanks of varying condition, some still having their side skirts and extra armor bolted on while others were fully naked and a spare three was on the corner getting serviced by mechanics. “Head straight! When you reach the mess hall, turn right and to the commanders tent!”
With the instructions given, the kids kept close to one another as the engine of an infantry fighting vehicle sparkled to life next to them, making Maria jump. “Oops! Sorry kids! Be sure to wear headgear! Gunner!” one of the crewmen quickly threw some spare crew helmets at them. The crude Tsh-4M wasn’t much as it was far too large for their heads, they still wore it just in case as they reached the tents.
Inside them, there were only one or two soldiers and most of the time they were sleeping or cleaning their gear with the empty mess hall, they made a right turn and quickly noticed one of the tents had a guard outside which excited them.
Reaching the tent, the soldier showed his palm at them and shrugged his head as a loud voice could be heard inside. “What?! Do you have any idea sir how much losses my unit incurred at the Siege last week?! The very air here is poisonous with how much napalm was dropped! I can’t possibly mobilize and aid Army Center. It’s impossible unless we could get our Veteran crewmen some magic serum and return back to the frontlines in perfect shape!” peeking in, a muscular looking officer with a beret sat down on a lawn chair.
With a long sigh as he massaged his eyebrows, the man’s stress levels could be felt even from afar. “Yes sir. Of course sir. Yes sir, I still have some MBTs to spare but none of them are in a condition to-. Yes sir. Sir yes sir.” he then gently lowered the handset and once again, sighed. “Inform Captain Benedict and have his Heavy Mechanized Company move out of the city and aid Army Group Center. You on the other hand, I want you to assemble what fighting force we still have left.” a young Lieutenant then salutes and walks out of the tent as the soldier then gestures for two to head inside.
The Colonel stood at an above average height even for an Asian man, with broad shoulders and an outstanding manly figure, he curiously looked at the two who had walked into his busy tent as his radiomen and drone operators were busy in the back looking at screens and CombatNets.
“And how may I help the two of you?”
“My friend Maria wants to sell her potatoes!”
“Potatoes?” The young boy then presents the sack which surprised Jackson that such a short stack could force himself to carry the weight of it for so long. “Why though? We have enough food here for the city.”
Maria, who had one hand holding her left arm, speaks up. “My sister… she’s in the hospital and I need to pay for her stay." This made the Colonel lift both his hands up to his face and wipe it. “Haaaah… can you bring your sister here? The UNCHR and Red Cross are willing to do this for free, you know?” the girl then shrugs her head. “I wanted to but the Doctor said she’s in no condition to be moved since the hospital’s elevator is destroyed and the staircase would stress her too much.” a sigh then came as the Commanding Officer before them seemingly stared at the skies for a few moments with an empty head.
“Go to the mess hall. My men are about to return from their morning patrol and we just received combat pay.” they then quickly scurried off as the Colonel just looked at his hands and then to the rubble that was the city outside of his tent. “Colonel, sir. We got an update on the eastern flank. NATO forces weren’t able to dislodge the Royal Guards unit.” hearing this, it made him snap out of it and turn back to the duty at hand.
Dust and grime was everywhere alongside the asbestos that flowed in the air and the occasional burnt flake floating about as soldiers patrolled in their surroundings. The sound of cannons still audible in the horizon as the two kids returned back to the T intersection on the camp.
In the mess hall, the cook was already there, loudly snoring as he slept on one of the benches. A tap came to his shoulder but it only made him grunt a bit. Donning the usual combat fatigues with an all white apron that had Sanskrit written on it, the Exoskeleton that usually hid under it is gone and replaced with a dirty normal brown shirt. “Huh…?” waking up a bit, he is greeted by the two kids warming smiles. “Your Colonel said we can sell potatoes here.” he quickly smiled back at the two kids, patting their heads. “Hah, look at you young entrepreneurs. Wait here, I’ll get my wallet.”
Sitting down on the metallic benches, the gates loudly opened up as two Kamaz Typhoon MRAP trucks entered the camp. Loud phwish echo through the motor pool as the brakes were engaged and the back ramps open. Coming back first was the cook with his wallet in his hands. “I uhhhh… hmmm…” he then takes a good look at the potatoes, smelling them and nodding. “I’ll buy twenty, keep the change.”
Happy with the client, Maria quickly started to count, albeit slowly while the cook went to the back of his counter and fetched a rusty bucket whilst dusty soldiers entered the mess hall.
“How did the patrol go?”
“We lost two men. Nguyen and Mulyadi didn’t make it back.”
“Dang. They were the new kids right?”
“Hm. One was just a year before graduating high school. What’s the food?”
“We have Puri, Chapati, Beef Curry, Chawal Dal Chay, Pulao, and the Roti is on the end.” This made the Southeast Asian looking Squad Leader slump down. “Any Caldereta? Adobo at least?” The Cook shrugged his head as he crossed his arms. “You must know, in the Indian Expeditionary Forces, they only get to eat MREs and canned food. You should be happy the Red Cross is also providing us food.”
“Indian food.”
“Well my Juan friend. Wanna peel some potatoes and fry some french fries?” This made the Squad Leader look at the kids who had finished counting the potatoes. “Errrrr… are we a daycare now?” The Cook just laughed as the mixture of Asian soldiers lazily went into a line and started packing their trays with food. “Colonels orders.”
“Haaaah… I’ll get my wallet."He gently sets his rifle on the table, tapping on it and one of his men nodding as he walks off to the barrack tents and comes back, paying for more potatoes. The other soldiers soon got up and went back with their own money till the sack was empty and the Cook was more than happy with the potatoes he got though their quality is not like the ones the military and Red Cross is providing.
Though the money didn’t stop flowing, the young soldiers just outright gave money and even some of their valuables from when they were still civilians. Titanium watches, Silver Pens, Necklaces and Amulets. The sack was then now full of expensive things that Eren couldn’t lift up anymore. “Manuel, get them on an MRAP. Where are you kids heading?” Maria then points at the left side. “Bilkent City Hospital!” Staff Sergeant Juan just looked at Corporal Manuel who was already busy with his Roti. “Yes sir.” he got up and took their sack without effort as he held the hand of Maria. “Don’t touch anything, you too boy. When I was at your age, I couldn’t help climbing up mango trees in the province and pressing buttons on my uncle’s jeepney.”
“Hah! When I was at that boys age, I was playing Gilli Danda! It often ends with me beating my friends with the stick! Ahahaha!” The soldiers from different cultures and nations all laughed together as Manuel took them to the motorpool and onboard a captured Oshkosh M-ATV MRAP. Its US Army markings are all ex out and replaced with a blue circle as the Corporal made sure they were all tightly seated with the belts properly holding them down.
Driving through the city, there were already efforts underway by the local government in clearing rubble with the Red Cross while the Asian Armies were busy removing undetonated explosives. Mostly done with remote controlled drones, driving them straight into tripwires or landmines though missiles and bombs had to be disabled still with a proper EOD and Demolitions and Engineering Teams. There large trucks are often seen in key intersections and roads. Blocking off huge portions of the already beaten paths.
It was impossible to drive normally with the dust constantly being kicked up everywhere. Even by people walking, the windows would clog up almost instantly making Manuel drive slowly as he kept a constant eye on the mirrors.
“Mister, how do you speak English so well?”
“It’s the second language of my country. I come from a province called Tarlac. That Cook you were speaking to? He came from Kashmir. Real hardened but educated man like me.”
“Wow… I always wanted to go to college and become an engineer.”
“Really? I have you know I finished my licensing before I got drafted. I am a Civil Engineer. What about you? What kind of engineer do you want to become, boy?”
“Eh? There’s many kinds of engineers?”
“Yeah. Aerospace, Electrical, Mechanical and the one currently booming, Computer and AI Engineer.”
“Woah… so after the war, are you going back?”
“Heck yeah. The board exam took me months to complete. As if I will leave that all behind just because I went to war.” Maria though just leans to the side, her head perfectly aligned with the center console of the MRAP. “Sir, do you know when the war is going to end? When will we get electricity and water back?”
This made Manuel silent for a bit but after a brief sigh, he looked back at the pale girl with her long black hair. “Soon. Last I heard, NATO’s attempt to dislodge the Eastern flank of the frontline failed. That means the path to Istanbul is clear with their counterattack broken. Me and my fellow countrymen have a religious connection to that place so we hope to be the first to reach it.”
Eren though was waiting for another answer, his sparkling and youthful eyes staring up to the hardened soul of the young soldier. “For that one… uhhhh… I really don’t know. It could take months or even years before proper amenities could return to your city. Sorry.”
“Awww… why did you have to bomb those places?”
“We had to. NATO troops were using it to power their drones, feed their soldiers, and many more. Simpy cutting it off won’t cut it… or so our higher ups said.”
Though the city was far from its glory days, civilian companies had already scrounge up whatever running buses they had. With public transport already functioning in certain areas and a single line on the Ankara Metro already fully running with a short schedule and most of the main highways have three lanes all cleared up by Engineering Battalions. Though most of its users were transport trucks by the military.
Near the hospital, a GAZ Tiger with a bunch of Humvees behind it parks up on one of the apartment buildings. The GAZ violently rammed into the front lobby as shots were opened up by the disembarking troops in full combat set up. “Jesus Maria Jose!” He promptly grabbed his M4A1 as he could see the shoulder patch of the unit. “Captain Benedict?!” and before he could think further, return shots came back.
It made the soldiers, their silhouettes akin to shadowy demons in the dust bowl the fighting had created, take cover and throw grenades in the lobby and with the sudden silence, they hoarded into the building. Coming from the sides and back while Manuel puts the MRAP into reverse and goes around the block. Reaching the hospital in one piece.
Rather than leaving, he escorts the two kids into the reception area and helps them pay the medical bills for Maria’s sister.
It took a while but soon, after coming back down, a convoy of military trucks had arrived. Many of them bear a Red Cross over their camouflage while the lead transport truck has its passenger exit out, which to his surprise was the Colonel.
Seeing the captured MRAP, the Officer quickly walked to the front lobby door and greeted the soldier with a salute.
“High command won’t be happy with this but I just can’t stand around. Will you help?”
“Sir yes sir!”
“Good. Help them unload the flatbeds with the forklifts. I’ll go talk to the owner of this place and where to unload.”
“Sir, what about our directives?”
“Haaaah… there’s kids in this city that need help. I… We might as well do something good while we’re here. I just got orders. We’re heading to the frontlines again.”
“Eh? Sir, so many of my friends are dead from the siege. What are we going to do in the front?”
“We’re getting attached to a larger unit till we can fully return to our own independent Brigade. For now, we are just a Company.” The Officer then rests his hand on Manuel’s shoulder. “It was our tanks that ran amok these streets, firing on every window that had movement. Least we can do is help. I’ll also be calling a Chaplain to bless our exit.
Sitting in a cushy office on top of a large skyscraper, a suited man with a slightly fat belly stared at the widescreen TV, airing the commemoration of the Battle of Ankara, on it was a plaque erected on a park with his units name on one of the many other that contributed to the rebuilding on the city.
Though there was a smile on his face, it soon disappeared as only a lone Sergeant named Manuel was the one to receive the award on behalf of his Brigade. He just turned his grand leather chair around. His big office had its own dining table and living room but there was no one but him in the cold room. With the minted marble tiles and massive carpeting, he looked indifferent to it all as he grabbed the Full Dive Gear Headset.
With a deep breath, he puts it on and immediately goes to Dark World and selects his 6000 Hour Hybrid Death Knight Character.
Feeling something in his mouth, he opens his eyes to see Bahamut was licking it profusely. “BWEH! BAHAMUT!?” He immediately started spitting. “BWEH! I CAN TASTE DIRT… AND… BLOOD?” He then turned to the Dragon who just neatly sat. “Master, you should know how intimate it is for a Dragon to do that to someone.”
“Where is the usual alcohol taste? Did you not change your saliva again?”
“I wanted to keep tasting the blood of that squirrel.”
“Squir… haaaaa… Come on Bahamut. We need to head back to camp.”
“Master, can I have roast lamb for dinner?”
“Again with these demands. Bahamut, we’re not even in the Mid Continent with fancy restaurants.”
“Master, I can smell ten lambs we can roast.”
“Haaaah… just help me pack things back into the carriage. If we go now, we should be able to reach Reskov by nightfall.” As he starts dismantling their campfire, Bahamut quickly starts grabbing things with her claws. Neatly stacking them on the very innermost part of the wagon. “Eh? Then Master, can we?” he instantly shuts her down with a shrug. “Unless we get paid good. No meat on the menu.”
“Master, we should’ve really brought that barrel with the meat stored.” as Jackson lunges the heavy bench into the wagon, he once again shakes his head at the Dragon who had done her part, with most of the trinkets and cooking apparatus all neatly packed on its box. “Yeah? And where would we store the relic? And no, I will not have you carry it the entire route.”
Finishing the last of camp, Jackson then scrubs anything incriminating as they head on off to the wagon, with Junior happily trudging through the forest and to the dirt road where the people were numerous and the occasional stand-offish Chosen One can be noticed.
Bahamut, sitting on his shoulders as usual, would be scanning their surroundings. Keep an eye on things one’s peripherals can’t even notice as the Dragon scanned the deep brooding lush with her piercing golden eyes as they passed by a sign written in Common, warning people of the oncoming marshlands.
“Did I bring any potion for toxic gas?” His thought was too late as the dirt road then entered the marshes, the prickly and sickly trees covering the sun as Junior started galloping, keeping its pace as the terrain became far too dangerous to be at speed.
Others with their Oxens and even Big Cats couldn’t properly trudge through without having to slow down to a walking pace. “Grrrrrr…” the growl of the cats made Jackson look as they stared at the Black Dragon on his shoulder, but Bahamut was more than keen on replying with a roar. “Don’t you even think about it. Your small roar sounds like a Wyvern that’s about to pounce.”
Instead, the Dragon picked to insult the Big Cat with her tongue out and a weak spit as Junior starts getting at pace once again just to get stopped by Jackson pulling the reins. “Bahamut, get me that potion immediately.” he then goes in the back while the Dragon opens a small lockbox while he puts on some rubber boots and Bahamut drops the vials to his hands. Stepping into the marsh as a carriage that tried to go around the traffic had stopped moving completely.
With Bahamut on his shoulders, he walks off the main road and into the swamp. “Master, do not continue straight. Turn left a bit. The miasma is not strong but it's creeping.” Doing as she instructed, he veers off slightly and after some zigzagging, he reaches the cargo wagon and to the front, finding the two people slumped down and their horse on its knees. “Cast healing and strength on the horse, I’ll take care of these two.”
Taking off, the Black Dragon spews a green energy from her body as the Knight makes the two well dressed merchants drink from the vials. With the reins in his reach, the horse began to move forward once again, heading back to the main road. “A little to the right Master and then right even more.” As he did this, some of the players and even citizens got off their mounts and carriages. Eagerly waiting for him as they cleared an opening for the wagon.
Though it took him longer than expected. Junior already knew what to do and was already nearly at the end of the marsh roads when he had arrived at the dirt road and took some payments from the merchants.
Hitchhiking on one of the wagons, they soon returned to theirs and once again, they were back on the road. “Master! They paid in gold coins, didn't they?!” This made him smile as he counted it. “Alright, let’s see how good you are with economics. Say we want to eat steak.” This made the Dragon nod fast. “And say we need lodging and a bath.” hearing this then made Bahamut stop. “Master, we can just sleep in the wagon as usual.”
“No. We can’t do that since wagons take up so much space in cities. We have to leave it outside on a stable and no, I will not accept walking back and forth from the inner city and outer walls.” with a sigh, the Dragon then neatly sat on his shoulders. “Now, thinking about it. We might need to stay on Varrar’s jeweled city for three days and there’s three of us to feed. How would you budget that with five gold coins and sixty silver in local currency?”
“Errrrr… Master, why not just sleep in the free houses the Church provides so that we can spend more on meat dinners!”
“We can’t do that. The Church of the Ancient Gods is not one to take kindly to the likes of me.”
“Wait, Master. The Kingdom of Varrar does not like Chosen Ones?”
“It's something I overheard. That’s why many other players don’t go there. I even heard some of the peasants saying they burn Witches and Wizards or any sort of Mages.”
“Master, is this Witch really that important?”
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“Bahamut! This is Karla we’re talking about. She is the one that supplies the Eldwood with most of its specialized potions.”
“Ah, that big boobied busty woman in black. You really like that type don’t you Master?”
“Hah? Have you lost your mind somewhere? She’s part of the Council of Witches from the Mages Association. You know, the people that own that huge white tower that does scientific research? She’s that important to our cause since if Breznick plans on really staying on the Dark Continent, we’ll need all of the potions we can get.”
“And exactly why is she in Reskov if they persecute Mages of any sort? I really don’t get you Chosen Ones.”
“Don’t ask me. That info literally came a few hours ago and we just happen to be nearby Varrar. This task is suited for the likes of Trevor more.”
Back in the open forest, the dirt path began to widen as more than Wagons, people were also walking on them as the smokestacks of a town peers through the treetops and soon, comes in view of a wall that’s protected by a moat. “Now, what do I remember with the Church of the Ancient Gods?” as he scratched his head, Bahamut just shrugged. “Master, I don’t really take to caring about the current politics and religions of the mortals.”
“Eh. We’ll just ask in the tavern. Border cities are usually more open to stupid questions than most.”
Passing by a fork on the road, the signpost going multiple directions had proper concrete on its base whilst being painted with white and red, the text on a bold stylish font. The city of Reskov is just straight ahead, 500 meters while at their rear, just beyond the marshlands and the valley was the Kingdom of Wurktemburg.
Entering the town outside the walls of the city, they were greeted with a vast farm that goes downhill and then on the uphill side, far from their sight was the town that they thought was so close. Its smokestacks were reaching high above the skies as Mothers cooked and prepared for dinner as the afternoon dawned on the horizon.
The trail of caravans and wagons continuously slithers on the dirt road between the farmland. Like an endless snake that has no tail. It was a busy road while they soon reached the town proper. With the wooden buildings all painted brightly, many have flowers with fiery petals on the supporting columns of their infrastructure.
Finding a Tavern, Jackson quickly took to the stables behind it. “Bahamut, help me untie Junior.” as he got down from the driver seat, the man patted the deathly horse. “Good horse, that’s a good horse. C’mon, I’ll get you some red apples, alright?” as if it could understand the Human, the demonic equine pushes its head into his cheeks as the Dragon used her magic to let the creature loose. “Bahamut. I said conserve magic. Info on Karla seems to be pointing in a tense situation.”
Ignoring him, the Dragon just sat on his shoulder as he pulled Junior out and put on his saddle. After checking the stirrups and the holsters for his swords and guns, the pockets for the potions and the sack for loot, he takes the reins and leads the horse to the front.
Heading inside, the main dining area is full of people, mostly Humans and Elves with the Humans being a bit rowdy as players were mixed in the horde, celebrating and enjoying a days work as they spent there money for booze and wine though the waiter looks at the new guests and his eyes was taken away by the glistening scales of the small fully grown Dragon on the man's shoulder. “By the Ghost of the Peritoneal Rose of Lady Flame…”
As the waiter was about to walk up to him, the bartender quickly leaned over the counter and grabbed his shoulder. “Oy, tee’ Templars of the Ancient Gods won be happy if ye touch a Dragon so freely.” This made his face pale as he turned back to his duties whilst Jackson and Bahamut took up a spot on the corner seat of the counter. “Good afternoon. Do you have cheese and cheap meat?”
“Aye. Want rum with that? Me wife serves the best in the region if ye got coin.” Jackson just takes a pouch and rummages through it, hiding its contents and gives a three silver coins and twenty bronze in Var currency. “The bronze is for the hay I saw you were selling and one red apple and just clean water please.”
As his food was being delivered, a party of players donned full sets of plate armor, the mages in their group all in incognito but Jackson could very well sense the strength of their control over mana even in the hoods they wore to hide their faces and presence.
“Man, what’s with Varrar and its ghost problems? We’ve been farming so much Wraiths and Corrupted Ghosts, the Mage's Association might come after us with all of the alchemical residue we have gotten.”
“Shhhh! Do you want to get us lashed again? C’mon dude, let’s just eat and log off. This place scares the daylight out of me.”
“But hey, we made a lot of money didn’t we? We got enough to cover for potion ingredients and weapon maintenance for the next month with this risky trip.”
Looking over his shoulder as he drank from his mug of pure water, Jackson's eyes squinted at the party of eight people. “Ghosts huh. With the toxic marshes, I guess many spirits got trapped here. Did you Dragons really have to poison the swamps?” Bahamut though was far too busy chowing down, with her head down and tail up in the skies, the Dragon violently tore apart the well sliced meat.
“Ahhhh… well Master, if you should know. The toxic plumes we used on the Lizard people were supposed to only work with them… this is just an unforeseen aftermath.”
“Your kind should’ve tried to be a little more accepting, you know? The Lizard people just wanted to connect with their ancient forms.”
“Master, our senses are linked and I can sense that you feel pity for them but you shouldn’t. This is nature, even prey is predator to something. There’s nothing that’s truly a victim. Everyone tramples on something. We just became complacent and forgot about trampling the Lizard people a bit more earlier.”
“Even still… to poison all of the swamps in the world…”
Bahamut just got back to eating, leaving Jackson with a sigh as the bartender rested his elbow in front of him. “New ‘ere?” with a nod, the bald and middle aged man with his apron hands him a drink. “It's in the house.”
“Thank you but I don’t drink.” This made the bartender smile as he replaced it with an extra slice of cheese. “Yer have some balls to go ‘ere, Chosen. Church of Ancient Gods don’t take kindly to yer kind.” this just made Jackson nod as he neatly sliced his meat. “But are you ‘ere for the ghost problem. I means, the thing is getting outta’ hand.”
“That's what others are after but my objective is to find a woman.”
“Ah, the brothel in the red district is where yer lookin’ fo.”
“Not that kind of woman.” Bahamut lifts her head up and gives the Human a smirk. “Master, our lenses are linked. I know you are curious.” he just lightly slaps the Dragons head back to her meal as he looks at the aging bartender. “We needs you lot. King Varrick is a whore’s son having all of the mages locked up and burned.”
“If I may ask, why is that… and are we Chosen Ones next in line?”
“No one knows. But me thinks there’s a stinker in the Court with him… probably that new ArchBishop from the Church. He hollered here before, shouting and rabbling about a new age.”
“Uh huh… and the ghosts? Doesn’t the Church of the Ancient God have any professionals to deal with this? They surely have people to replace all of the specialized mages they drove or… removed.”
“Nay, they just hope prayer will solve it.”
“Errrrr… I see…” Jackson then pops a pair of silver coins on the counter which the bartender gladly takes. “Aye, I thank ye’.”
Going back to eating and finishing up finally. Jackson could see a Priest leading a pack of grunts outside, the Orb on the holy man made his eyes focus. “Come on, let’s check the notice board. Into the pocket you go.” Going out with a Dragon in his jacket, he led Junior by the reins as they entered into the main city itself, the guards kept a close eye on him as he trudged through the uneven brick roads.
In some of the areas, the road was dark and was filled with less people while the main roads were kept alight with patrols constantly going back and forth. Though the shade of the incoming night made the atmosphere a bit more hostile than welcoming as he approached the notice board on a square near the Western entrance of the city.
“Haaah… the lead just said Karla is helping with the purifying. I guess they meant this.” The quests on the board were all full of ghost reports, ranging from your usual furniture moving and kids crying to literal apparitions that had hurt someone. “What’s with this city and its ghosts?”
Popping her head out of the jacket, the Dragon looks up to the skies and then down to the well lit buildings. “The Church truly does not have any specialized people to deal with this. Master, the air is brimming with discontent. They did not properly take care of the dead.” opening his hand, Bahamut crawled out of his jacket’s pocket and sat on his palm.
“Get this Master. When a person who is dealing in magic becomes a Ghost, they tend to become dangerous Wraiths capable of using dark magic. Ghosts on the other hand are just the common people… And with the recent actions of the Church.”
“Many of the ghosts here are Wraiths…?”
“Yes, Master. So I suggest you talk to your people about where this Karla woman could be as we should not go ghost hunting at the peak of the night. A Wraith becomes stronger when the Moon is out.” He quickly makes a small cross with his finger, in the Guild Chat, Jackson starts asking specific questions. “The air is heavy, Master. I can smell the sadness, distraught, anger, jealousy, envy, and hope swirling in this city. The King of Varrar will be dealing with ghost problems till his next ten generations. Even here, I could smell corpses that've been rudely thrown or discarded in the sewers.”
“The other Knights told me she was last seen in the center square… yesterday before a public burning happened on a Witch and a Wizard.” He looks to the east, the well lit central square is brimming with life and the sound of lutes and drums could be heard even from afar. “Karla is good with purification of Moonwraiths… but even then, you said the darkness around this place is amplifying their power right?” The Dragon nods as Jackson skims through the reports. “What are Moonwraiths again?”
“Master, check for a quest that says the ghost is opening windows and is extremely active both in morning and night… but Master, you do have proper potions for this right?”
“My Greatsword has adamantium in it for a reason. For when I forget to bring potions against scary eldritch horrors, I can just swing freely and scream!” This just made Bahamut look down and shrug her head as a busty figure in a full hood steps right next to them, making Jackson jump. “WHAT THE HELL?!” revealing her pale hand with red painting nails, the woman laughed softly. “I apologize. I did not mean to startle you, Sir Knight Errant.”
She then starts looking through the request, but Jackson turns to the opposite of the girl and locks into Bahamut. “Why didn’t you feel her presence? Didn’t I tell you to alert me always if something-” the girl then taps his shoulder. Making him stand straight up, turning around ever so slowly. “Y-Yes. How may I help you?”
Lifting up a quest, Jackson got a good look at her youthful face. The red hair that’s tied to a bun and her normal human ears. “I’ll be taking this. I hope you and your companion don’t mind.” he just smiles and waves his hand. “Of course! Please, have a safe ghost fighting night!”
And just like that, the woman disappears from their peripherals. Only a shiver sent to his spine as Jackson quickly started walking towards the lively main square.
Reaching the central square, his face was blown up with the sight of hundreds upon hundreds of people, even at the time most were heading home and closing down their shops, the band kept on playing as people danced and laughed and drank. The stalls were selling food and nicknacks pertaining to the lowly fishing community that was Reskov. “And you tell me they have a ghost problem?”
“This is actually good, Master. Ghosts don’t like lively atmospheres like this. The dead want to sleep and rest rather than be reminded of the life they long lost.” looking around, there were so many people that he couldn’t track who or what was happening, making him just walk near the square and sat down on a bench, his arms spread out as his leg was on top of another. “Haaaaaah… Where can a busty witch in a tight black gown be?”
“Master, you really like that type of woman, don’t you?”
“Hah? Stop reading my emotions.”
“Sorry, Master. The moment we link our souls for eternity, that means we share each other's pain and suffering.” This just made him sigh as the band suddenly changed its tune, this time playing a song meant for two people. “Huh? What’s happening?” a handsome and gallant man in silver plate armor with a crimson cape bows to a Noblewoman, asking for her hand which with a beautiful smile that could melt the heart of even a Demon, she gladly takes.
The two then shared a dance as married couples to teenagers danced together in ecstasy, living the moment as the atmosphere became so bright that Jackson’s darkened garb felt as if it was about to turn white from all the positivity. “Master, I can feel your jealousy.” with his chin resting on his palm, the man just had a stoic expression on his face. “Who wouldn’t? Coming here, I expected to be that Knight Errant who will do great things…” he then looks at the dark roads where only the torches wielded by the Templar Patrols light up the road. “Yeeeaahh…”
“Master, you’ve saved many women already. Why not try with them?”
“I… Uhhhh… you already know.”
“But I always felt like you were always on the verge of breaking the ice as you’d say.”
“Hah. HAH! That’s just my adrenaline speaking. Anyways, what’s the plan now?”
“You know Master, you should try to dance with a female Human. You will need that touch when you fight Moonwraiths.”
“Pfft. I got you, Bahamut. Don’t worry too much about that.”
This just made the Dragon sigh as she scanned their surroundings, sniffing the air as the perfect couple danced with such grace and elegance that it even made her nod in approval. “Master, you really have very specific taste in women don’t you?” Jackson though just changed the crossing of his legs as he stared at the blonde Noblewoman. Her violet eyes sparkling as the handsome Knight Errant took the lead and whisk her away into a night of fun.
“I never understand the Art of Dancing. I think to us Dragons, the closest is the ritual act of exchanging mutual respect with one another.” She then heard snoring as Jackson was already fast asleep, drool coming out of his mouth. “And this is why you’ll never find a Human woman, Master.” she then swiped his cheek with her spiked tail, waking him up. “Haaaahhh… I wanna go back to fucking up monsters.”
“And yet in the back of your head, you want to f-” This made him lift up the Dragon by the back of her neck and forcibly closed her mouth. “Don’t you even say it. Not in public of all places you stupid Dragon.”
She then disappears into a plume of black smoke and pops out of his shadow. “Master, how can you ever be truly named a Male when you haven’t mated with a Female Human?” He then casts Spark, making his shadow disappear as Bahamut has taken off to the skies.
With the bench so near, he hops on top of it and grabs the Dragon by her tail. “YOU STUPID DRAGON! I’LL FRY YOU IN COOKING OIL!” but Bahamut just grew more in size, to that of a house cat making his hands loosen. “NO! FUCK YOU DRAGON! COME BACK HERE!”
His loud voice took everyone’s attention as the dancing stopped and the focus came to him chasing the Black Dragon around the bench. “AHAHAH! Master! When are you gonna man up?” This sent him into a fit of rage, taking out his cape and using it to capture the Dragon which was seen by the Templars and the Priest. “HEY! STOP! Do you know what Commandment you just broke?”
Ignoring them, he takes Bahamut out of his black cape, lifting her up to his eye level. “I swear to God if you tease me again, I will ACK-” The butt of a sword was then driven into the back of his head knocking him out as the Priest tried to pick up Bahamut. “Oh, such a creature of Divine aura. I am here to help.”
She then looked around and saw a commoner woman whose statue was taller than the most. Closing her eyes, her Dragon form disappeared as one of the peasants transformed into a plate armor clad woman in silvery armor, wielding two swords, one of the Dragons fiery red and another, her Masters Greatsword of divine golden light. “Step away from Master.” Her long black hair is styled into a ponytail that reaches the heeled sabatons of the set.
“Templars, can you not disturb the Chosen Ones?” looking at the main square, the blonde Noblewoman has called for her own Knights. “Leave the Dragon be and her Human. May I remind you who my Father is?” She then looked at the towering Dragon who was in the body of another.
With her Dragonic influence, the commoner now stood nearly seven foot tall, with the heels of the sabatons helping in making her towering posture to loom over everyone in such a sparkly silver armor that’s adorned with etchings of Albion and the great ancient Dragons. “I’ve seen that armor before, in a painting inside the castle. An Ancient Dragon Priestess if I remember correctly.”
“Hm. A great battle once occurred here where Albion was defeated.” This made the Noblewoman flick her finger. “By the Gods Eternal Fire, you were alive at that time? When the Lizard Folks’ army once marched here?” she nodded as she looked down on the knocked out Jackson, his mouth open as saliva dripped from it. “This is her sister's armor which was gifted to me in case the day came I found my peace with Man.”
Scooping up Jackson like a princess, the Dragon then walked off to the dark road where she then returned the body to the commoner. Picking him up and taking off into the dark night sky.
“Maybe I’ve gotten ahead of myself… I do not understand it that much… still… Why must such a thing be done to you? All of that cruelty for a superstition of Gods long dead? Whose ravaging primordial power are but a fraction of a fraction of what were once creatures that even the Dragons wrestled with for eons?
I do not understand, Master.” Finally gaining consciousness, the man could hear the self muttering of the Dragon.
"I truly hate how fragile you are, Master... I hold three different types of Immortalities and I could not imagine a punishment that is me burying your body. It was nightmarish, Master. My first true Nightmare. You were bleeding, your precious blood dripping out of your plate armor as you were pierced by an arrow I cannot heal.
All... All... All I could do was fulfill your last wish. I brought you to a lone tree in a vast plains and laid your body there as you told me how much you love me as your soul left your mortal coil.
It haunts me, Master. That golden tipped arrow meant to kill Gods... I wouldn't know what to do if it were to ever come true Master. I might just rest for all of eternity next to your corpse. As its protector and preserver… Should I go and wipe your name from the book of the dead?" His hand then comes alive, spooking the Dragon as he rests it on top of her head. “Don’t… don’t do that will you?”
Hearing him come back alive, the Black Dragon latches onto his head tightly. “BAHAMUT! MY SKULL! MY SKULL!” This made the man panic as he ran out of the carriage with a shiny winged creature hugging his face, making the people avoid him. “AHHHH! I CAN FEEL MY SKULL CRACKING! BAHAMUT!”
Walking back into the city at night with a bandage around his head, the duo finds themselves on one of the buildings by the ocean front. The galleons and merchant ships swayed slightly at the busy harbor even in the dark as Privateers got head to head against the Church. “Oy! We already arrived at night to not disturb ye! Matters me not what you Church whoresons are in about!” The Common man on the other hand was hauling cargo containing jewelry and rare Tur metals of the vessels.
The smell of fish and men long at sea made the air stink gravely as at night, uncommon and rare aquatic animals would begin to roam made the harbor operate all around the clock but that also means the noise and smell is also there every hour, everyday. Jackson having to constantly open his inventory and spray perfume at himself and around him as full fish cages throw ocean water into the streets while the Pubs were constant in their ruckus.
At the corner of the harbor, next to the stone bridge that goes over dirty river water, a note was left by the door on an unkempt building.
“All ye who trespass, beware for something Evil wreaths inside. The Beauburg Bankers has heard of crying children at the night, floorboards creaking as if a living person was with thee and windows opening all by itself. Salve Me. - Reskov Bankers Association”
Looking at the guild chat, he confirms this is where she was last heard from the Mages Association, making him sigh. The decrepit structure has boarded up windows and the bricks having moss and vines growing around it as the wooden door on its front has turned to a disgusting pale brown from years of neglect.
He only swallows his saliva as if the weight of the building was on his shoulders though Bahamut on the other hand is already in combat mode. “Master, that building houses not one, but multiple Moonwraiths. I suggest you rest still and leave this to me.” Though his body was saying no, the man just straightened his shoulder. “I’ve seen and been in the worst things. Why the hell am I so afraid of this?!” and reached his hand out to the rusty doorknob.
Almost instantly, crows fly out of the wooden door. Their beaks break out of the wood as they take off into the dark night skies making him solid and stiff. “Eep.” opening his palm, he uses magic to teleport in his Beneli M4 shotgun. “Okay… phew. I can do this.”
“Master, Moonwraiths do not have a physical form. You will still need to use your Greatsword… indoors…” Bahamut then sits on his shoulders and with her claws, pats his cheek. “Just let me handle this.”
“No! I won’t let you go in there alone! We’re together now and… and… I kinda don’t want to be left here. I don’t really know this city.” This just made Bahamut sigh as she spits fire into the door, burning it whole and leaving the front open and already, a shadowy hand creeps back into the corner of the entrance hallway.
This made Jackson wipe his eyes and blinked multiple times. “Let’s go in, Master.” The Dragon could then hear the rattle of the shotgun as the man swallowed his saliva once again. “God said be not afraid… I… I am very much afraid. Bahamut, can you light up the candles on the wall?”
“Master, doing that will only make the appearance of the Moonwraith less probable. If anything, we need the darkness lit up by the Moon more than anything.”
“Grrrrr… why must this happen to me?” walking in, the man draws his shotgun as the scabbard of his sword is already hitting small tables and vases as he moves with no tact at all and would aim at every little thing that’d move.
Entering the living room on the left, the slits of the boarded up windows gave a brooding place a blue hue and on the sofa, he sees there’s a black leather pack.
Opening it, it's full of rare and powerful potions with extra sets of wands of differing types. “This is Karla’s alright.” a floorboard creaking then made him swiftly turn a 180, aiming it at the entrance hall and the staircase where a shadowy feet’s toe heads up to the second floor.
“Huh. What a Wraith. Seems that it wants us to follow it, Master.” Jackson though has already gone cold. The grip on his shotgun was so strong that every tremble of his muscle would violently rattle the gun as he continued onwards into the staircase.
Quickly aiming to the right, he is met with a dusty painting on a wall where the faces and the clothes can’t even be seen from all the grime that has latched onto it. Looking left, the dusty and cobwebbed ridden hallway has been far better days as he slowly starts walking forward into the first door on the left. “Master, finger off the trigger.”
Opening it slowly, he notices the figure of a woman laying on the bed. “Karla?!” running inside, he first examines her. The wonderful busty figure of the Witch in her tight black gown gave him some semblance of calm as her wide brim witch hat laid sitting on the chair next to the dirty bed with a cracked potion flask on the floor.
“Master, you might need to find something.”
“Hm? Why? She’s here. Karla. Wake up. It's me, Paul from Eldwood.”
She just mutters lightly as the man shakes her and no response is given. With her violet lipstick and eyeliner, the Witch went all the way for the Goth look but Jackson’s eye candy was taken away by the apparition on his peripherals.
A rotting shadowy ghost with tattered clothes. “B-B-Bah-Bahamut… what was that?” she then spat fire into the corner of the bed making it disappear right before his eyes which sent his hair raising. He felt his arms wanting to carry the Witch and his legs ready to book it out of the building. “Master, you will need to explore more. A ghost only becomes a Wraith if they hold great resentment to a place. We must find whatever happened to this person and I’ll burn the artifact." This made him sigh. “But… is it fine to leave her alone here?”
“Hm. She tried to pulverize the ghost by enhancing her dark magic.” Looking down, Jackson picked up the broken potion flask and neatly sat it on the counter next to the bed as he flicked his finger, lighting up the candles on it. “Haaaa… I can’t believe I am doing this.” Bahamut then casts something on Karla’s sleeping body as he turns around.
Going back out to the hallway, there was a bit of resistance to wanting to close the door to the only source of light, but with a deep breath. He fully closed it and walked to the other door at the end of the hallway.
Inside is an office with another painting once again on top of the fireplace and a bunch of sofas and leather chairs. His eyes are then invaded by light sounds of crying children as Bahamut takes off from his shoulder and starts flying around.
She’d then fly closely to the painting, flapping her wings at the right moment where it exposed the image of an aging man in a military uniform.
Landing on the coffee table, the Dragon then observes the stains on it which leads to one place. “Master, can you go to the fireplace and remove the ash and dust?” doing as she ordered, he takes the butt of his shotgun and shoves the fireplace where a bunch of preserved bones full of scratches including a skull with a big puncture rolls into the ancient carpet.
The crying of the children then stopped as Bahamut then landed around it. Sniffing it and closely observing the bones. “This seems to be damaged made from claws… though the one on the skull is from a dagger.”
“So are we going to burn this?”
“No Master. We must bury the bones later on. Prevent the Moonwraith from coming back here. What we must take is what’s latching the Wraith into the physical plane.”
Looking around, the living room was just mostly cobwebs and old wooden shelves and a bunch of leather seats whose original color has long faded except the black ones. Bahamut though starts opening everything she comes across and in one of the drawers she finds a rusty key. “Hoo hoo.” Taking it, the Dragon then sat in the center, closing her eyes for a few seconds, she then spit fire at the painting.
As it burns, a safe is located behind it and Jackson quickly takes the key and puts it in. The safe was then effortlessly unlocked as the Dragon stared at the corner, prompting a shadowy figure to disappear as the Knight pulled out an artifact.
“A… Elven Tablet?” reaching it out, his eyes squint at the old thing as Bahamut returns to his shoulders, spooking him. “Hm? Oh, Master. It's an old poem about an ancient Elf that one day found the Hand of Migas.” As he wipes it, the tablet’s writings glow and rearrange itself into Common, making it readable by him. “Ohhh… this is the dude that can turn things he touches into gold. Huh, explain the brick house in Reskov. So what now? Is this it?”
“Hm. The Moonwraith is deathly connected to this. We must burn it. Master, let’s head down to the first floor now.”
Going back to the hallway, there a shadowy figure stood at the end where the staircase going down was. Jackson quickly raised his shotgun with one hand as he held the tablet in another. “L…Look, we just want to set you free.”
The entire building then began to shake as the Black Dragon focused a bit and it quickly stopped. “You were a strong Human weren’t you? To use gravity magic even after death. Astonishing.” The shadow figure then began to dissipate, revealing the body behind all the blackness.
A rotting corpse with flayed skin that’s full of claw marks and a hole in its skull, the Moonwraith charges forward prompting Jackson to pull the trigger but the pallets all just get eaten up by the body forcing him to drop the gun and reach for his Greatsword. “DANGIT!” Bahamut then took the helm and hovered in front of him and erecting a barrier which stopped the Wraith dead in its tracks.
Pulling out his Greatsword, the Moonwraith was already long gone. Forcing him to jog down to the first floor, throwing the Elven Tablet into the living room where Bahamut then casts blue fire into it which made a harrowing scream appear from every crevice of the building.
The scream was so loud the wooden boards on the windows began to collapse, the Moonwraith now coming into being with the light of the Moon fully engulfing it. “Master… don’t panic and… FIGHT!” He then grips his sword properly, positioning himself at the widest area on the first floor and swaying his sword at his back where he feels a disturbance.
It hit the Moonwraith but the sword merely felt like a blunt weapon to the ghastly apparition which immediately disappears into the flooring. With the shaking of the entire building, the walls began to scrape off. The wallpaper flaying off, revealing the flesh that writhes inside it.
But the blue flames of Bahamut just began to expand on the furniture, crawling its way around the floorboards then to the ceiling as the harrowing screams then changed into an angry one.
Unbeknownst to Jackson, at the attic of the building. A magic circle made by the blue flames appears and coming out of it was a woman in a Gothic Funeral attire that dons the Crown of the Dragons.
With a veil covering her face, her pale hands were covering her face as blood started to seep through the ceiling. As if the dew of the Moon is changing into the liquid covering her body with it and the Moonwraith fully appearing in its true form.
A huge mouth opens underneath her, with rotting and mangled predatory teeth. She spreads her fingers, revealing the golden eyes of the Dragon as she pulls out a soul from the circle and looking down at the mouth below, it merely stops moving as she points her finger.
“Master, I apologize for this.” She then fires a ball of blue fire into it causing the mouth to swallow it directly.
On the first floor, the flesh behind the wallpaper began to burn as the multiple apparitions of the Wraith started to disappear one by one and the shaking then stopped. Jackson thought something was off and opening his player menu, his Mana was completely sapped. “E-Eh? I didn’t use that much magic though…” as his legs were to give out, Bahamut threw him a potion from the bag in the living room.
Looking around, the building itself was back to its normal decrepit shape. As if nothing had even happened and the damage his Greatsword left was all undone. “Good work, Master. I knew you’d pull through.” A door then opens and the Knight drinks the potion in one go as he runs back to the 2nd floor to find Karla had awoken.
“Ohhh… goodness my head.”
“Karla!” She then looks up and casts a Light orb, revealing a familiar face. “Oh, it's you Paul. What’s up?” he just sighs and takes a moment to catch his breath. “I’ll explain everything to you later. For now, grab your stuff and let’s go to Fishmonger Pub. It’s a bit important.”
“Hm? But I set my chat settings to allow requests.” the Knight just shrugged his head. “You never gave us your player ID.” Bahamut then lands in his shoulder. “Building cleansed.”
“Oh Bahamut! Hello!”
“Yes, hello. Master is very much into your style.”
“Shush. Now, how much is the Bankers Association paying you for this job?”
“A Lot heheheh… and thanks to you, the o’ humble Witches Knight-Errant, I get a big fat cheque.”
Rubbing her hands, she walks back downstairs and takes her belongings. Her witch hat downsizes to that of a doll’s accessory as she then donned a hood and the trio then goes into the next block where Jackson embraces the lively air of the Pub. “HAAAAH… Feels so nice to be back with people.” He then leads her to a table where the two converse casually but soon lead to business.
“Ohhhh… so Breznick is really gonna go for the Dark Continent?”
“Them and Libertus and we know you are one of the only people connected to us that has folks in the Potion Makers Guild.”
“Hmmmm… since you did help me and you did say you could transport me back to the border of Varrar and Wurktemburg I shall help you… and why would I ever turn down one of my most loyal clients?”
“Just so you know, the teleporter there does not work right now.”
“No need to worry. I have people on the other side of the border. For now, let us drink to the occasion!”
“Karla. Can you get your people to provide us with potions?” This made her smile fly away as she sighed and began to use magic to swirl the liquid in her mug. “Of course. But it will take a few months in real life since your friends in Breznick have been buying up a lot of stock from the Guilds and Associations.”
Jackson’s eyes immediately furrowed as he lifted both his hands up, interlacing them and resting his chin on top of the two hands. “Hm, that’s the only sign I need to know. They're really serious huh.” The Witch nodded as she drank from her mug. “Though since Eldwood and the Men of the Woods are some of my best clients, I know some Associations that still has some space left for your demands. Same stuff?” he shrugs, making a long breath.
“We need a little bit of everything, the same thing Breznick is doing but with a caveat that we also want suppliers to make potions in-house.”
“Ohhhhh, you're really preparing huh. I’m guessing the research on Skeleton Legions made some very interesting results?”
“Hm. Bahamut’s Guild-wide buff is that summoned Undead costs thirty to fifty percent less. It's thanks to this little thing that we’re able to muster an army that should be able to stand up against Breznick’s army.”
“Ehhh, things are getting interesting again. I wonder what’s happening in the Mages Associations Officer Guild Chat.”
“Heh. I don’t think you’d wanna look. I’ve muted mine since the pings are getting so annoying.”
“Though… It's a few weeks of being inside a fancy marble tower again for me.”
“And me, I’ll be busy mucking around in the Dark Continent with Bahamut here.” The Witch then turned her face to the small Dragon, devouring her way into the insides of a loaf of bread. “Hm. Bahamut, what’s your role in all this? As a former Dragon God, you should have a lot of wisdom to share.”
“Former? Master, can I burn this Witch? I know you like her body, but I will not stand disrespect like that.” This made him spit water off his mouth as he gave the Dragon a deathly stare. “BAHAMUT?! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!”
“Pfft. I already knew since the first time we met. You're very easy to read, you know?”
“I… I… No comment.”
“AHAHAHA! It’s such fun being with you two. I don’t know, something about how you two interact with one another is just an endless source of entertainment.”
“Hah? This Dragon has gotten me jailed more than anything on this planet. What do you mean?”
“Master needs help.”
“Your Master always needs help. He’s the type of man who, if left alone, will start planning on how to take over the world and enslave everyone.”
“WHAT?!” Karla just gestures to him to shoo away as she smiles and turns her head to the other direction. “I forgot that your senses are both linked. Must be a ruckus for a Dragon to feel the chaos that is Human emotions.”
“I just mute it. Though when sleeping, when Master gets jumped by something. I am often awakened to great annoyance.”
“And it's pretty useful. She keeps jumping in at the right moment and timing.”
Soon, the waitress came and they ordered their meals for dinner. With Karla picking as much as she desired. “Haaah… just how much was that Mana Potion I drank? Are you really gonna bankrupt me when Eldwood is on the verge of a huge war?” She ignores him and continues to order. The Witch then just lowers her hand and stares at the Knight in front of her, poking his Dragon companion who is far too busy finishing the loaf of bread on the table.
“Also, how long is the trip again?”
“Two days max. Perks of having a horse from hell is that it can run for as long as you need it be.”
“Good. A lot of things are happening behind the scenes, Paul. Things your mind might not be able to fully comprehend.” This made him raise an eyebrow as their meals were served. “What do you mean by this?”
“Just continue that project you're working on with the Men of the Woods. Heavy days are upon the Dark World community once again.”
“They’re in for a rude awakening when they march into our abandoned city. The Dark Continent is the graveyard of Empires for a reason. Aside from the remnants of the ancient demon army and the Vampires and Werewolves. The creatures there, to the thick forestry, they all want you dead.”
As Karla folds her hood, revealing her long back waving hair, the Witch reaches into her bag and takes out some toy sized utensils. With a bit of magic, it upsizes into normal ones and she begins to eat. “I also heard Libertus is moving behind the scenes.”
This just made Jackson set down his spork and leaned away from the table, the Witch looking up to him as a grin flew into his face. “Two big Guilds? Well, well, well. I already have an idea on why we contacted Rostock.” She just tilts her head, her long thin eyebrow lifting up as the Knight General infront of her has a scheming and conniving aura to him. “Oftentimes in war, the larger army will win by just the sheer amount of attrition they can withstand compared to the smaller enemy. But with a bit of technology and the Guild buff Bahamut has…”
He then leans into the table. Tapping his finger onto its surface. “We’ll make sure to level out the playing field, fair and square.”