THE FOLLOWING MORNING dawned, and an urgent summons reverberated throughout our sanctuary. A sense of urgency gripped us, spurring us into swift preparation. Eryn, stationed by the entrance, wasted no time expressing her impatience.

"Finally, the time has come," she remarked with a touch of haughtiness.

Though Eryn often carried herself with an air of superiority, her ability to keep meticulous track of our comrades was undeniable. As I brushed off my robe and smoothed my hair, I mused on this thought. I had adorned myself with an assortment of rare and potent magical artifacts, from the resplendent folds of my robe to the intricate engravings adorning my boots. Each finger boasted rings of power, while amulets adorned my neck in abundance. Were a connoisseur of treasures from Tombs & Titans to gaze upon my accoutrements, they would surely marvel at the staggering opulence of it all. Alas, it seemed the weavers of Dravus failed to recognize the true worth of my equipment.

"Does it not inspire awe?" I asked, emulating the grand magician from the renowned fantasy epic, Dragonslayer, striking a dramatic pose for emphasis.

"Uh...yes," Petr muttered, his gaze averted.

"Undeniably...terrifying," Eryn added, her eyes scanning the hall's perimeter.

If that were indeed the case, then why did both of them avert their gazes?

The gathering convened within the majestic confines of the fortress's grand hall. As we made our way, I adjusted my posture, standing tall with shoulders squared, as though delivering a momentous presentation to a panel of esteemed directors. Together, Petr and I meticulously reviewed the outline of our forthcoming "presentation," meticulously determining our course of action. Our objective? To persuade the council to deploy a contingent of knights—nay, an entire company—to undertake the perilous task of exterminating the unholy abomination that infested our lands.

If I were to be frank, the task of obliterating the fiendish nest and a couple of legions single-handedly would be well within my capabilities, as long as I allowed myself a liberal employment of spells. However, the crux of the matter lay in the potential ramifications should even a few of these abominations elude our grasp. They could easily establish new nests before we had a chance to intercept them, perhaps even multiple ones. To avert such a dire outcome, we required a sizable contingent capable of encircling the area, ensuring not a single fiend slipped through our grasp—such were Fiends' words. Ideally, we would secure the cooperation of all the knights, but even a solitary company would suffice, fulfilling the bare minimum, as Petr astutely pointed out.

It proved fortuitous that the grand hall occupied the uppermost level of the structure, boasting a broad balcony that overlooked the eastern expanse, extending past the castle and into the sprawling lands beyond. A servant, the herald of our arrival, announced us with a practiced voice, revealing our titles and names—Lord Adventurer Petr, Lady Weaver Eryn Engvall, and, if my ears deceived me not, Lord... Arch... Mage? Emberus Blazeus Xandros. The servant swung open the colossal doors, granting us passage into the room.

Within those hallowed confines, a sense of majesty enveloped us, a testament to the Adamant Knights' storied heritage spanning over a century. An opulent carpet graced the floor, its intricate embroidery hinting at past glories. Paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes from the order's illustrious history. From the lofty ceiling, a resplendent chandelier cast its ethereal glow, while flags emblazoned with the order's crest fluttered proudly.

At the far end of the hall, upon an ornate chair, sat an aged knight—Captain Armand Stevenson, I presumed. Despite being informed of his ailing health, he had found the strength to join this gathering. To his right stood a young knight unfamiliar to me, while on his left, accompanied by another unfamiliar knight, stood Gilbert, ever the loyal squire. The knight flanking Gilbert was none other than the commander of the third company, while the commander of the fourth company was conspicuously absent, his absence attributed to an ongoing patrol duty.

The knight positioned opposite the captain, a youthful figure, happened to be none other than Albert Stevenson, the captain's son and commander of the esteemed first company. With his attractive countenance, slender frame, and delicate blond locks, he presented a striking contrast to Gilbert's rugged visage.

Apart from the trio encircled around Captain Stevenson, an assemblage of five high-ranking knights comprised his advisory council, while several other knights stood in attentive formation. Among the latter group, I discerned the presence of Leoria.

"I am Armand Stevenson, captain of the Adamant Knights," the venerable leader introduced himself. "Adventurers and Archmage Xandros, I express my gratitude for your invaluable contributions in enlightening us."

A pallor of illness tinged Captain Stevenson's face, contrasting with the dusky complexion beneath his snowy hair and beard. Yet, his voice resonated with strength and determination, and his seated posture and piercing gaze betrayed no signs of weakness. His eyes possessed a gleam that outshone the luster of his silver armor—a radiance earned only through the crucible of countless battles.

"I merely fulfilled my duty, Captain," Petr replied, offering a modest bow. Though his display of reverence was subtle, it was evident that he held the captain in higher esteem than any other knight.

"The honor is ours," Eryn added gracefully, executing an elegant bow.

"There is no need for gratitude. Fiends pose an equal threat to us all. I approach you with the assumption that the Adamant Knights shall address this menace with due diligence," I interjected, punctuating my words with a brief nod.

Under normal circumstances, I would have preferred to display utmost respect to Captain Stevenson. However, both Petr and Eryn had warned me that if I failed to present myself as an equal, I risked incurring the disdain of the other knights. Yet, truthfully, assuming such a demeanor proved taxing for me. Throughout my existence, I had remained naught more than a desk-bound clerk, while he, the captain, had weathered the crucible of countless years, commanding men and knights. Sweat moistened my palms as I gripped my Staff, a tangible manifestation of my unease.

"Now, let us hear the particulars from Petr, an adventurer hailing from the Vandaris City Adventurers' Guild," Edward intoned in a composed, formal manner.

As Petr embarked upon his explanation, we approached the precipice of phase two in our carefully orchestrated presentation. Would the proceedings unfold according to plan? Uncertainty plagued my thoughts. Instead of succumbing to worry, I surreptitiously scrutinized each member of the council, endeavoring to glean any morsel of insight from their countenances.

"We were en route to the fortress, intent on rescuing Leo's daughter, when we chanced upon Lord Xandros, the eminent sorcerer. He had already safeguarded the girl, apprehended the enemy weaver, and petrified him..." Petr's narrative unfolded.

Throughout his discourse, I scanned the room, observing the reactions of those assembled. The strategist Edward seemed to deliberately evade my gaze, while Linden and Gilbert bore stiff expressions. The other members of the council—the heads of finance, intelligence, internal affairs, and the chief secretary—trained their eyes in my direction, their faces betraying a mixture of anxious suspicion.

Remain composed, I reminded myself.

"Finally, Lord Xandros summoned meteors from the heavens, raining destruction upon the fiends with his arcane prowess. Through his intervention, our salvation was secured."

As Petr reached the segment concerning my utilization of magic to vanquish the fiendish horde, incredulity spread across the countenances of the assembled knights. Even Edward and the Adamant siblings—knights who had previously witnessed my sorcery—betrayed clear disbelief. Only the venerable captain remained unmoved. Albert, however, exhibited less doubt and more fear, his complexion draining of color.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"With that decisive strike, we obliterated the fiendish horde, thus averting any potential harm to Maridal Village. However, our task remains unfinished. The very existence of such a formidable force implies the presence of a nearby nest, spawning these fiends. If we thoroughly search the valley, we should locate it, but time is of the essence," Petr conveyed seamlessly, transitioning from his report's conclusion to a poignant warning, a call to action.

"Thank you, Petr," acknowledged the aged captain. "Does anyone here wish to share their insights on this matter?"

A weighty silence draped the room like a suffocating shroud.

"We find ourselves confronted with a grave situation," one of the knights spoke up, his voice deep and resonant, shattering the oppressive stillness. "Firstly, I propose dispatching a reconnaissance team to assess the situation."

This knight, whom I would later discover was named Orion, commanded the third company. Possessing a muscular physique and a stern countenance framed by short hair, he clearly had climbed the ranks through his own merits, in contrast to those who had enjoyed the privileges of their lineage.

"A reconnaissance team? Certainly a prudent course of action. But what shall we do if a nest truly exists?" Edward interjected, his tone measured. A ripple of murmurs surged among the lower-ranked knights standing at attention.

"If there is indeed a nest, we shall crush it without mercy!" bellowed Gilbert, flecks of spittle propelled from his mouth.

"Exactly," Orion affirmed with a nod.

"Establishing a reconnaissance team is certainly feasible, but should we confront the need to eradicate a nest..." Albert addressed the treasurer, a middle-aged man slightly portly in build, known as Sir Isreal.

"If we embark upon this specialized operation, we must allocate supplementary funds for the knights and other troops: provisions, medical supplies, bedding, weapon and armor maintenance, fuel, and horse feed. Additional expenses will arise in the event of casualties, requiring further medical support and compensation for the families of the fallen... and that is not all. While the operation is underway, we must bolster patrols and fortify the village's defenses, necessitating extended work hours and overtime pay. Frankly speaking, such endeavors exceed our current budget," Sir Isreal expounded, his countenance displaying signs of emotional exhaustion. I had no reason to doubt his assessment, yet it was disheartening to witness how even in a world supposedly brimming with swords and sorcery, the lack of adequate funding remained an organization's most potent vulnerability.

If it truly proved problematic, I had no qualms about contributing my own resources. However, I was unsure of the opportune moment or avenue through which to extend such an offer.

"But... do we truly possess an alternative? Can we not scrape together the necessary funds somehow?" Albert implored, his tone tinged with desperation.

"He speaks the truth! If we, the Adamant Knights, fail to combat these fiends due to financial constraints, our presence becomes utterly meaningless," Gilbert exclaimed.

Even Orion silently affirmed their sentiments, while the lower-ranking members observed the debate with trepidation.

"Are we even certain that fiends have truly emerged? I have received no such reports from my subordinates," another officer interjected, their voice raspy.

The speaker proved to be a diminutive, elderly woman with a piercing gaze, standing out amidst the other officers. She held the position of head of intelligence.

"The appearance of the fiends is an indisputable reality, Lady Irinia," Petr retorted sharply. "Did my report leave any room for doubt?"

"Are you of sound mind, Petr? Or has a wayward mushroom infected your brain with these delusions?!" a skeptical officer exclaimed.

"I must confess," added Sir Lorenzo, head of internal affairs, "I find it exceedingly difficult to believe that a mere magic user—this so-called Archmage—could singlehandedly annihilate an entire legion."

Here it comes, I anticipated. A logical conclusion, indeed. In this world, the feats I am capable of defy all rationality.

"No matter how potent weavers may be, it is inconceivable that one could dispatch a dreadbeast with a single blow. Utter madness..."

"I knew their tale sounded too fantastical to be true..."

Among the lower ranks, murmurs echoed with similar sentiments. It was time for me to make my move.

"Fascinating," I remarked, taking a deliberate step forward. "Are you implying that I am a charlatan?"

Good. The lines flowed smoothly from my lips, unimpeded by stumbling or hesitation. Everything had unfolded according to our expectations thus far. Now, it was time for the second part of our presentation: a demonstration of my magical abilities.

"O-of course not, Lord Xandros! No one is suggesting such a thing!" Edward hurriedly interjected, his face draining of color as he attempted to placate me.

I paid him no heed.

"I do not fault you for struggling to comprehend the art, for the workings of my magic are foreign to the realm of Dravus. Therefore, I offer you this opportunity! Witness the power of my spells!"

An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment washed over me. As a youth, when I first delved into tabletop roleplaying games, grandiose in-character performances were not the norm as they are now. Needless to say, in my adult years, I did not readily resort to declaiming my lines.

Albert, the officers, and the majority of the knights fixated their gaze upon me, their expressions fraught with unease. If any of them had dared to smirk or crack a smile, my confidence might have shattered, leaving me incapable of carrying on with the charade.

"As a result of this incantation, eight meteors shall be conjured from the celestial expanse, descending upon my adversaries," I declared, extending my Staff towards the balcony, aiming for an area within the desolate wasteland to the east of the fortress. Prior to the meeting, we had taken precautions to ensure the absence of any individuals in that vicinity.

In my mind's eye, I envisioned myself hurling a formidable array of dice, as I had done countless times before. Not that it truly mattered on this occasion.

"Meteor Shower."

The instant I completed the spell, the air filled with a piercing whistling. Gradually intensifying, it transformed into a resounding drone akin to the descent of bombs. Suddenly, eight meteors streaked across the sky beyond the balcony, hurtling towards the desolate terrain below.

The ensuing explosion was colossal.

The hall was engulfed in a blinding radiance, accompanied by a thunderous cacophony that reverberated through the walls and ceiling.

"Are those flames descending from the heavens?!"

"What is happening?!"

"I-Inconceivable..."

"Did you witness that cataclysmic explosion?!"

Some individuals shrieked, others yelled, while some sought refuge by crouching and shielding their heads. Certain souls stood in a state of shock and bewilderment, and a few could only gaze in stupefied awe at the spectacle before them.

It had worked.

The members of the cabinet, in particular, stood rooted to the spot, their eyes widened and their mouths agape, caught in a bewildered stupor.

"By the Lord Ruler, that's astonishing!" Gilbert's exclamation stood as an exception, brimming with unadulterated enthusiasm.

Captain Stevenson, however, remained unmoved. Not a single muscle twitched upon his countenance. The same could not be said for his son, Albert, who fought to maintain an outward facade of composure.

"To witness it firsthand, up close...truly incredible..."

"So, this is the genuine might of magic..."

Even Petr and Eryn, both sporting widened eyes, found themselves ensnared by the captivation that permeated the room.

Well, I mused, Meteor Shower surpasses the power of other offensive spells they have witnessed, such as Fireball. It is understandable that they are in awe.

"I extend my sincerest apologies for littering your training grounds with craters. Should it pose a predicament, do not hesitate to bill me for the damages."

I felt relieved that I had previously confirmed the land was solely utilized for training purposes. Nevertheless, I pondered, I have created eight immense cavities in the earth. Hopefully, it does not prove too troublesome for them. I cast a glance toward the treasurer. The bill for damages may indeed materialize.

"But...but how...?"

"H-how is this even conceivable?"

"That is no charlatan's sleight of hand...nor is it weaving..."

"The magic of a Mage...it is real..."

"Just look at those colossal craters in the ground!"

The knights continued their hushed conversations, their murmurs blending with the air. Some hastened to the balcony, seeking confirmation of the truth by examining the marks my magic had etched upon the world outside.

Inwardly, I drew a deep breath, then exhaled, my pulse racing with a surge of excitement. But as I exhaled, I reminded myself sternly: You have not earned this power. It has been granted to you by a higher authority. Indulging in the thrill of such a display would be an act of shameful arrogance.

"Your message has been delivered," I spoke up, breaking through the mounting clamor. Captain Stevenson's deep and resonant voice boomed through the hall, commanding attention.

"On behalf of us all, I offer my sincerest apologies, Lord Xandros," the captain intoned with authority. "You have demonstrated to us the magnitude of your powers."

If the captain was shaken, he concealed it well, I noted with admiration.

"I harbor no ill will, Captain Stevenson," I responded, projecting an air of magnanimity. "In hindsight, my reaction was unduly impetuous." I nodded in acknowledgment.

During our exchange, our gazes locked, and I discerned the captain's intent. He sought to restore order and stability to the hall, to anchor his order amidst the unsettling currents. It was only because I understood his unspoken purpose that I could answer him with such confidence. As the other knights beheld our composed conversation, their own restlessness gradually abated, and tranquility reclaimed the hall.

"Now that you comprehend the credibility of the information presented by the esteemed Archmage Lord Emberus Blazeus Xandros," Petr spoke, seizing the opportune moment, "let us return to the pressing matter at hand."

The knights nodded, their movements measured, as if emerging from a spell-induced trance.

"In that case," I declared, my voice resolute, "I have full confidence in the capability of the Adamant knights to address the fiendish threat. However, should you require my aid, I offer it willingly."

"Your aid shall surpass the strength of a million armies combined," Captain Stevenson proclaimed, his voice resonating with conviction. "Henceforth, Archmage Lord Emberus Blazeus Xandros, you are the most formidable ally of our order."

"Rejoice, esteemed members of the order, for the illustrious mage stands with us!" Albert interjected, his timing impeccable. Drawing his sword and raising it high, he pointed it towards the heavens. "Victory to Adamant! Death to the fiends!"

"Victory to Adamant!"

"Death to the fiends!"

The other knights echoed the rallying cry in perfect unison, their voices blending into a harmonious chorus. I couldn't help but acknowledge Albert's potential as a charismatic leader. He possessed the qualities that could inspire others. It appeared that Gilbert, too, recognized this, for although he seemed slightly irked by missing the opportunity to initiate the chant, he joined in without delay, following Albert's lead.

However, I was well aware that potential alone amounted to little. I knew, without a doubt, that Captain Stevenson, Albert's father, had subtly pinched the back of his hand to goad him into the charismatic gesture. It was a reminder that Albert's charisma was being nurtured, guided by those around him.