As Jenkins and the other heroes entered the Audience Hall, their breaths were taken away at the amount of decorations throughout the room. Right off the bat Jenkins noticed a few gems and metal that also existed back at Earth. The chandeliers in the ceiling had a combination of emerald and ruby gems embedded into the gold frame and it was evenly placed apart. Jenkins was unable to figure about how the gemstones were emitting light.
“Those stones must have some sort of magic casted to it.”
Jenkins silently muttered as he curiously stroked his chin. The room was filled with other people aside from himself and the heroes. Immediate he could tell that most of them were high ranking nobles or military officers just by the way they were dressed.
“Dam. Thank god the last few years of studying medieval history had actually helped out for once.”
As Jenkins thought to himself, he noticed the same ‘Holy Maiden’ that got cut off by the archbishop back in the summoning chamber is being closely guarded by knights that he could assume is part of some sort of protection detail that answers to the church. Next to the ‘Holy Maiden’ was the Queen, King and the Princess of the country that had summoned them. The trio were sitting in chairs that were beyond logical proportions. Jenkins decided not to think about anything more that is in the room that he had seen. The King stood up and began his speech that goes with any other hero cliché.
“O’Heros! It must be the goddess blessings t-...”
Jenkins didn’t bother to hear out the rest of the Kings’ speech. He is currently observing his surroundings, still on high alert from the malicious intent he felt earlier. He would resume listening to the speech from time to time. By the time the king finished the speech, Jenkins roughly deduced that him and the others would be sent to the frontlines to combat the invading demon forces that is plaguing the human race and many others.
Of course, like many hero clichés he had read, a demon king is involved. However, this country wanted the heroes to maintain the defensive line until reinforcements arrive from the Eastern Continent which is where the majority of the human race resides along with the headquarters of the church. Archbishop Havier had other plans. He approached the King and knelt down with on knee on the floor.
“Your Majesty, maintaining the defensive line would mean nothing if we do not make the first counterattack. It’s a blessing that the goddess answered our prayers with twenty-one heroes. I beseech you to send a small combat force to take the fight to the demons. And I recommend the hero wearing the green clothes to lead it.”
When the rest of the heroes heard Havier recommendation, some weren’t thrilled at the idea. And there was Jenkins thinking about how bad of an idea that is without proper intelligence on troop movement and supply lines. However, he shook his head at Archbishop Havier’s suggestion at making him the leader of the small force.
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The audience with the king ended with a compromise to allow one small detachment of heroes escorted by the church’s knights. The Archbishop and the ‘Holy Maiden’ left the room to make the report back to their headquarters. As for Jenkins and the heroes, they were treated to a buffet by the King and his family. The nobles and royalty wasted no time to get acquainted with the heroes however some of the heroes took an interest in Jenkins outfit and as a result a crowd formed around him and another around the crowd itself.
One of the heroes that introduced himself to Jenkins as Cole went off on a commenting spree.
“Oh my god those are real M-1 Helmet, Summer M41 Field Jacket and M1928 Haversack with a shovel in the back!”
Cole paused and took a sip before continuing his spree.
“You even have the HBT Jacket, HBT Trouser, JQMD Cartridge Belt, JQMD First Aid Pouch, JQMD Canteen Cover, and M3 shoulder holster that had been reconfigured to be a leg holster. Nice~!”
Cole was soon mesmerized by the M1938 Leggings and Service Shoe that Jenkins had to bop his head to bring him back to reality.
“Oh sorry. I am quite fascinated by American combat gear in World War II. Pardon me if I came off rude with this question but how was the beach landings?”
Jenkins stopped to quickly work up a cover story to make his World War II origin authentic.
“Well Cole, Omaha was bloody. First landings were close to obliterated with second wave coming behind. Those Krauts were determined bastards, held the line to their last breath. They took out a lot of my boys, not a fond memory however we did what we needed to do. We fired at them, burned them and hell we even brawled them to the last one standing. When evening rolled around, the beaches, the bunkers and the roads were all filled with corpses….”
Jenkins paused and took a sip from his cup before finishing up his story.
“Orders came from the top and we were needed deep inland to relief an airborne division. That’s when the bright light obscured my vision.”
After his tale, Jenkins was then pulled into a noble crowd shaking their hands and at the same time learned about their occupation. In the middle of the conversation, Jenkins felt another shiver that wasn’t filled with the same malicious intent. He was unable to find the source however he knew something bad is going to happen. It was around midnight when the gathering ended with the nobles returning to their territories and the heroes to their sleeping quarters. The maid was about to leave Jenkins alone to his room, but he quickly asked her to close the light for him.
After the maid left, Jenkins inspected the luxurious room and located a few places that serve as good ambush spots. He went to the bed and made a dummy decoy by putting two pillows underneath the blanket to make it apparent someone is sleeping in it. He then approached the wardrobe that is adjacent to the bed, opened the door and squeezed himself in there. As Jenkins slowly closed the wardrobe door, he left a small crack so he can see the dummy. Almost a couple hours had passed by and Jenkins was about to doze off into dreamland until he heard a slow crack sound of the door opening. On que, he drew his M1911 with his right hand from his leg holster and took aim through the small opening of the wardrobe door. Holding his breath, Jenkins slowly slid his index finger to the trigger.