The room's tension escalated as more guards entered, instantly halting at the sight of their fallen comrades. A complex mix of anger and fear flashed across their faces, a silent testament to the chaos that had unfolded. Before any of them could react or seek vengeance, Lord Cedric's voice cut through the thick air, heavy with the scent of conflict and desperation. "What are you spacing out for, you buffoons? Unshackle them. They are our esteemed guests from now on," he commanded, his voice laced with a sneer that couldn't fully mask the underlying fear.
The guards hesitantly moved to obey; their actions now guided by the lord's desperate bid for survival.
With the tables now turned, Sera stepped forward to assume control of the situation. Her posture was regal, exuding a confidence that commanded the room as the trembling lord was forced to his knees before her. She regarded him with a calm, authoritative gaze, embodying the very essence of royal demeanour.
"As a rule, your actions would warrant a swift execution," Sera began, her voice steady and commanding, "However, I am not without mercy." She paused, allowing her words to sink in, emphasizing her next demand with a clear, decisive tone. "Now, I require knowledge. Tell me, how soon does the army intend to arrive?"
The lord, now a picture of abject fear, struggled to find his voice, barely managing to stammer out his response. "T-three days, Your Highness, they should be here in three days." His words tumbled out in a rush of desperation. "But please, have no fear, I am wholly at your service. Whether you choose to conceal yourselves or to flee, I pledge my utmost allegiance. On my very soul, I vow, your presence here shall remain a secret from all others."
Cedric's demeanor had shifted entirely, now perfectly embodying the archetype of a greedy, corrupt lord driven solely by self-preservation. The pretense of loyalty he had maintained earlier vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind a man whose only allegiance was to his own survival. This transformation underscored the untrustworthy nature of his character; a man willing to switch sides at the slightest hint of personal gain or danger.
The companions understood the precariousness of relying on Cedric's word. His eagerness to plead allegiance under the threat of death was a clear indication of his opportunistic tendencies. They knew well that his promises of secrecy and assistance were as fleeting as the wind, likely to change direction the moment the approaching army offered him a better chance of survival.
Recognizing this, it became imperative for them to act swiftly and decisively. Securing whatever assistance or resources they could from Cedric in the moment was crucial, but they also needed to plan their departure with the understanding that Cedric's manor was no safe haven. The looming arrival of the army meant that time was of the essence, and lingering in one place too long could spell disaster for them all.
Albert's voice carried an authoritative tone as he laid out their demands to Cedric, "We need supplies for our journey – rations, common clothes for disguise, shrouds for concealment, weapons, and healing potions. Ensure your men arrange these swiftly. And plot us a route for safe passage. You, Lord Cedric, will accompany us into the wilderness. Your presence guarantees that your men won't dare follow. Once we ascertain our safety, we will consider your release." This strategy was born from necessity; while they had managed to overpower the guards in the room, an all-out battle against the entire town's garrison was not in their favor. Albert pondered the limits of Arion's formidable weapon. It had shown devastating efficiency, but relying solely on its power to escape was a gamble they couldn't afford.
Elara's voice, firm and unyielding, cut through the tension, reinforcing their stance against Cedric's reprehensible actions, "Let this be a clear warning to you. If we learn that you've resumed your vile trade of abducting children, know that we will return. And our mercy will have limits." Her statement added a layer of moral obligation to their demands, making it abundantly clear that while their immediate goal was escape, their commitment to justice remained unwavering.
Cedric, now facing his captors who stood together firmly, had no real choice but to agree with them. The clear threat to his life and the fact they were taking him as a temporary hostage made him lose his usual confidence. He was scared of what they might do to him for his bad deeds. When he agreed to their demands, they started planning to leave. Cedric realized how much things had changed; he was now at the mercy of the people he once thought he could control. His future depended entirely on what they decided to do with him.
The room quickly became crowded with the supplies and rations that had been requested, which were then swiftly absorbed into Roland's spatial ring. This fascinating display caught Arion's attention, leaving him in awe of the ring's capabilities.
Internally, he couldn't help but be curious about the mechanics behind such a powerful artifact. He directed his thoughts towards the system, silently inquiring, "Can you find out how that works?" Arion was intrigued by the technology or magic that allowed the ring to function, wondering if there was a way to understand or replicate its ability to store vast amounts of items in seemingly another dimension.
No such information exists in the database. Perhaps connecting to datacentre could help?
Rolling his eyes inwardly, Arion ignored the system's message. He then firmly took hold of the so-called Lord's neck and followed his companions towards the town's exit.
As the companions made their way through the town, they passed by shabby cottages lining the dusty streets, homes that seemed as weary and worn as the town itself. The air was thick with the struggle of the poor inhabitants, whose gaunt faces and hollow eyes spoke volumes of days without proper meals. Curiosity drew them closer to the unusual procession, a silent plea for any change in their monotonous despair.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
A guard, spotting the gathering crowd, barked sharply, "Move along, back to your work! There's nothing for you here!" His voice, laced with disdain, was a clear attempt to disperse the hopeful onlookers, reinforcing the invisible barriers between the downtrodden townsfolk and the unfolding drama.
Another guard joined in, waving his arms dismissively at the crowd, "You heard him! There's nothing to see. Go on, or you'll find yourselves in trouble." The warning, though stern, carried an undercurrent of unease, as if the guards themselves were wary of drawing too much attention to the lord's precarious situation. The townspeople, their momentary flicker of curiosity snuffed out, slowly dispersed, their faces turning back to the ground, carrying with them the silent weight of resignation.
Upon reaching the fringes of the wilderness, the companions noticed that the guards, against their clear instructions, continued to tail them. Albert, sensing the potential for betrayal, turned sharply towards the lord with a dire warning, "Tell your men to stop following, or we will send your head flying." The threat was clear and loaded with deadly intent, highlighting the precarious edge on which the lord's life balanced.
The lord, fear gripping him once again and realizing the seriousness of Albert's words, shouted back at his men with a desperation that was palpable. "Get the fuck back, you morons, and wait for me here!" His voice, a mixture of fear and frustration, echoed through the air. The guards, taken aback by their lord's vehement command, hesitated for a moment before halting their advance, watching as their lord and his captors vanished into the verdant embrace of the wilderness.
----------------------------------------
In the thick of their journey, with the wilderness enveloping them, Cedric's voice, tinged with desperation, broke the monotony of their trek. "We have been walking for hours," he lamented, his voice laced with a plea for mercy. "I have done everything you've asked. Please, let me go."
Albert, his patience wearing thin from the lord's constant pleas, pushed back with a firm directive. "Not so soon. Keep walking," he commanded, clearly annoyed by the lord's sluggish pace which hindered their progress.
Arion, ever the pragmatist with a trace of sarcasm, chimed in, "If it weren't for this... 'sturdy' obstruction, we might actually be getting somewhere." He paused, a finger lodged thoughtlessly in his ear as if the conversation barely merited his attention, then added, "But, if we're considering dropping dead weight, I'm more than capable of lightening our load," his voice flat, the threat unmistakable.
At Arion's chilling suggestion, a wave of fear crashed over Cedric, his plea turning frantic. "Princess Seraphina, I implore you, under your grace's protection, please save me from this... this distinguished warrior," he stammered, the fear palpable in his voice as he desperately sought refuge under the princess's mercy, hoping to sway her with his flattery and fear.
Sera's gaze shifted to Roland, silently seeking his counsel in the midst of the tense situation. Yet, it became clear that the decision was hers to make. The companions had subtly but unmistakably placed the burden of judgment upon her shoulders—a poignant reminder of the lord's earlier affront to her dignity, juxtaposed against her own vow to safeguard him. This delicate balance of honor and obligation left them in a quandary; they were bound by a code that neither permitted the execution of a captive without her sanction nor the release of one who had slighted their princess so grievously. The weight of this decision, emblematic of her leadership and moral compass, hung heavily in the air, awaiting her decree.
In the midst of their predicament, the enigmatic figure, previously a dweller of the dark dungeon, casually suggested ending the lord's life. His lack of concern was not due to any personal vendetta; rather, it stemmed from a profound indifference to the lord's fate, highlighting his detached nature. This individual wasn't fleeing nor was he particularly aligned with their cause—he was simply there, a spectator and participant rolled into one, propelled by whims rather than obligation.
Princess Sera found herself pondering the motivations of this carefree companion. Despite the myriad challenges and dangers they had faced together, he remained with them, an unwavering presence whose intentions were as obscure as his past. This prompted Sera to question not only his reasons for staying but also the depth of his commitment to their journey.
Though Sera acknowledged her need for his unique strengths in her quest to reclaim her kingdom, she realized she had never explicitly sought his assistance. The assumption that he was oblivious to her ultimate goals seemed logical, given their lack of direct communication on the matter. Yet, this assumption also cast a shadow of uncertainty over their alliance, a realization that she, too, was in the dark regarding his true intentions.
“So, you're a princess then?” Arion's question snapped Sera out of her thoughts and back to reality.
Caught off guard, Sera realized that her strategy to slowly reveal her true identity and earn his trust over time had unraveled faster than she intended. "You don’t like royalty?" she asked, a bit wary. In her experience, royals were often either adored or envied, the latter by those who saw them as nothing more than privileged figureheads.
Arion seemed to ponder this for a moment before replying, without a hint of scorn in his voice. "Dislike royals? No, not really. Back where I come from, we grew up on stories about kings and queens, knights and battles. My mom used to tell me those stories when I was little," he said, his expression softening as he recalled those times.
This simple admission from Arion offered Sera a glimpse into his past and his perspectives on royalty, quite different from the hostility or disdain she might have expected. His reaction suggested a certain neutrality, if not a mild fondness, towards the concept of royalty, influenced perhaps by the nostalgic stories of his youth. This exchange, while brief, served to bridge a gap between them, hinting at the possibility of a deeper connection and understanding in the future.
Sera's curiosity was piqued as she delved into questions about Arion's origins, her scholarly instincts shining through. "So, your world—or where you came from—didn't have kings or emperors? How were the citizens governed there?" she inquired, her eyes alight with a mix of curiosity and wonder.
Arion paused, as if contemplating how to distill a complex reality into words she might understand. "Well, it's not quite like anything here. You see, my people's original planet was destroyed long before my time. We had to leave, traveling on what you might call スペースarks—huge ships that could host life, like artificial プラネッツ. To govern ourselves across these new homes, we set up a network, a kind of interconnected system that managed laws and order," he explained, his words painting a picture of a civilization vastly different from anything Sera could have imagined.
The princess found herself grappling with the sheer scale and complexity of Arion's explanation. The concepts of artificial planets, space travel, and a governing network were far beyond her realm of understanding, rooted in medieval governance and earthly confines. Attempting to mask her confusion, she simply nodded, pretending to grasp the enormity of his background. In her mind, the information swirled, a mix of fascination and an overwhelming sense of the unknown that Arion's world represented.
“That is great, wow so like what is sa pay sa. and this pa la nay te? Is it like an island?” Sera, intrigued yet not fully grasping the concepts Arion introduced, decided to probe deeper, asking about the specific terms he had used, like "artificial planets" and "network." Her tone suggested she had understood almost everything, yet her questions clearly indicated she was trying to make sense of these novel ideas within her own frame of reference.
Arion, upon realizing the gap in understanding, couldn't help but facepalm, a gesture of mild frustration mixed with amusement. It dawned on him that the words and concepts he had so casually mentioned were alien to this world—or, at the very least, to Sera. The knowledge that such advanced technological terms and the ideas they represented were not part of this world's lexicon made him momentarily pause, reflecting on the vast differences between their civilizations. He quickly recognized the need to either find simpler analogies or gently steer the conversation away from topics that would only further confuse his royal companion.
Arion stopped in his tracks, a puzzled look crossing his face as Sera continued a few steps ahead before realizing he wasn’t beside her anymore. She turned back to see him staring at her with an expression of genuine surprise.
“At least I understand about network and the system, we have those here too” Sera had said, thinking she was connecting with Arion’s explanation.
Arion, catching up to her, asked, "Wait, you know about networks and systems? How is that possible here?"
----------------------------------------