Before the short amount of time needed to activate the pearl of wisdom's power ran out, Reivan was suddenly met with the embrace of a woman he'd only met today.
That was strange. Usually, he had to take girls out on expensive dates or say a few witty pick-up lines before he got to that stage.
'What...'
Reivan tried to replay what happened in his mind, trying to see where things went awry.
First, he approached the group of darkin. The actions of the surrounding knights made it obvious that he was of some importance, so if they interpreted him as the faction's representative, then they were correct.
After that, an important person from the darkin's side stepped forward. Which made sense if they really thought Reivan was the human representative. Nothing was wrong up to this point.
Next, the darkin's representative suddenly prostrated. He didn't know if that meant anything other than begging or apologizing in darkin culture, but Reivan interpreted her actions as a plea for aid. The darkin didn't exactly have a secure place to stay and—assuming they ate—a steady supply of food along with them. They were in obvious need of help, and the kingdom wouldn't have looked for them if it wasn't prepared to provide at least that much.
Reivan's obvious response to this would be to help her up with his best attempt at a reassuring smile. With any hope, it was interpreted as him accepting their request.
'Hm. Is that what went wrong?'
Since it was the prime opportunity to do so, Reivan went ahead and tried to use the pearl of wisdom to teach Iselle—the darkin who was currently embracing him for Sormon knew what reason—the English language. That way, they could actually communicate with each other. Because as a wise man once said, communication was key. They wouldn't get anywhere without it.
The result of that had been his current situation.
'Alright, Rein. That's what you did wrong... Hm. Is it really wrong though? Isn't this kind of a good outcome? Hugs don't necessarily have to be lewd. I hug my brother and parents all the time! I even hugged my uncle just a while ago.'
Reivan nodded to himself, awkwardly returning the darkin woman's embrace. Certainly, hugs weren't a bad thing. Maybe it was just his mind being unnecessarily dirty. Hugging little girls sounded wrong, but it was a completely innocent thing when it was him doing it to his adorable little nieces. Those little rascals were just so huggable, after all.
He didn't know if it was true, but some Western countries on modern Earth treated hugs and kisses like handshakes. Maybe this was that kind of thing.
'Yeah. That must be it. Let's go with that.'
Besides, they'd been hugging for almost half a minute now. And that meant this young lady's head was about to be stuffed with the king's English.
Everything would work itself out eventually.
Iselle the clingy darkin looked up with a small smile and said something in a language he didn’t know, almost causing him to reflexively nod to pretend as if he understood. Thankfully, he stopped himself in time. God knows what she was asking, so he couldn't just agree. What if she was asking for him to sell his soul in exchange for peanuts or something equally absurd? He would be cooked beyond belief.
As expected, she seemed confused as to why he wasn’t answering. And just as he was about to say something, her eyes widened as her brows shot up.
‘Yep. It finally hit, huh?’
The pearls of wisdom had seen extensive experimentation since he sent most of them off to the kingdom some time ago. And by now, everyone was sure there was no pain or headache to be felt after an infusion of knowledge. Just a strange sense of confusion—a feeling as if you already knew about all of it a long time ago, even if you clearly did not.
Still, Reivan waited for some time to pass before speaking to her. “Can you understand me now?”
“I… yes…” Iselle answered, a bit dazed. "Though I do not know why..."
Her accent was strange, probably because she was using different parts of her vocal cords or something. That was how it was when Japanese people tried to learn English. Both he and Kyouka had a lot of trouble with that crap when they were young.
“I see. That’s wonderful news.” Reivan smiled, letting his hands dangle even as he was tightly embraced. “If so… and I mean no disrespect whatsoever, can you let go of me now?”
“Oh, certainly…” Iselle acquiesced, backing away a step or two, her beautiful black wings gently folding into themselves.
‘Those seem really soft. Wonder how they feel? I kinda wanna touch them…’
He’d wait a while before he asked, however. Past stories he read and watched often had a trope where a winged race’s wings were sexually sensitive organs or at least something only touched by family. Or partners. With his wedding coming up, he was paying extra attention to how he interacted with the fairer sex.
"Ehem." Reivan cleared his throat to psyche himself up and get his mind out of the gutter. “In any case, let me introduce myself. My name is Reivan Aizenwald. But you can just call me Reivan, for simplicity’s sake. I am the Aizen Kingdom’s second prince. It is a pleasure to meet you.”
‘Well, actually, now that my brother’s king, I suppose you can say I’m the nation’s first prince now...Or does that title go to my nephew?’
In any case, he considerately let the darkin refer to him without titles and all that pompous mumbo jumbo. Though they’d just learned English, that was just the language. Knowledge of culture and the appropriate gravitas of the world’s ruling class wasn’t included in that. Not extensively, anyhow.
It would be downright idiotic of him to expect that of them. And besides, Reivan wasn’t really the type of person who cared about that kind of thing.
Respect was shown. Not just spoken. He valued the former more than the latter.
“Ah, I’m named Iselle,” she said as she joined her arms in front of her navel and bowed. “And I’m… Uh…”
Reivan patiently waited, thinking that she was probably having trouble translating something in her language to English. Actually, it wouldn’t be strange if there was no equivalent word for some of the things she wanted to say.
After a few moments of thought, Iselle shook her head and bowed again. “I am the daughter of our clan’s matriarch. I offer greetings to the prince. I am sorry if I am speaking strangely…”
He shook his head. “There’s no problem at all. You're doing really well so far.”
“Thank you for your understanding… Uhm, may I ask what happened? I suddenly knew a language I've never known…”
Reivan hesitated for a moment, thinking if he really had to explain the nature of the pearls. But then decided they wouldn’t get anywhere if he was too stingy with explanations. “It’s the pearl you hold in your hand. It has the power to teach our language to those who hold it for a certain amount of time.”
Iselle’s brows shot upward as her gaze lowered to her hand. “How extraordinary…”
“Yes. With this, our people can communicate with each other. I understood nothing of our earlier interaction, so I’m actually wondering why you suddenly hugged me…”
“Oh! Yes.” The darkin lady nodded. “It is because our meeting has been prophesied. And I recognized you as the Destined Savior.”
“Eh? Destined Savior…?”
“Yes.”
“What even is that… Or rather, how are you sure it was me?”
Iselle smiled at that, holding her joined hands to her chest. “Our god, The Desolate One, granted our matriarch with a prophecy. A prophecy that our salvation will be delivered by a young human with white hair and golden eyes. And that he would have a serpent with wings as a companion.”
“Oh my god. That definitely sounds like me…”
‘So I didn’t just accidentally propose to someone? Well, that’s a good thing, but…’
Reivan’s mind spun at her words, and he realized that a certain Archon—who had been the one to tell him about the darkin—must have done something to smoothen the process of saving them. Certainly, telling them he was coming would eliminate a lot of their barriers, thereby making it easier to help them. No dancing around doubt and belief.
“I had thought it was that gentleman at first.” Iselle respectfully nodded toward his Uncle Viktor, who was standing to the side with the intention of having nothing to do with this. “But he isn’t human. And the age also doesn’t match.”
Viktor’s cheek twitched at her words but he couldn’t necessarily refute. Though he didn’t look his age, he still couldn’t be called “young” anymore. It was most definitely his height and the stubble on his face though. He could probably pass as a particularly buff man in his early twenties if he took the effort.
The knights all around them were naturally listening but none had the gall to openly tease one of Aizen’s strongest knights about it.
Except for Reivan and a lady who looked suspiciously similar to Stella and the House Mercer’s matriarch.
“Puhaha!” Reivan laughed, slapping his knee just to annoy his uncle extra hard. “Well, certainly. He doesn’t really match the description. That man is my uncle, if you must know. He is more than four times my age.”
Iselle must not have noticed anything strange in the air because she merely nodded, throwing another glance at his uncle. “Me and my people have much to thank him for. I have bore witness to his bravery in battle. Naturally, the other warriors too.”
“Heard that, everyone?” Reivan looked around, his arms spread wide. “Yet again, they praise Aizen’s valor.”
A smattering of “Hear hear!” and various other exclamations followed his words, and the mood was generally celebratory. Which made sense because all of these people had just spent months in undisputedly the most unfriendly place in the world—they were ecstatic to be back home.
“We have plenty to talk about,” he said, turning back to Iselle. “But we can do that in a more… comfortable place. Would you mind telling your people to follow us into that portal over there? Even if it may look dangerous, I swear it isn't.”
Iselle turned a suspicious glance at said portal, biting her lip in hesitation. After a bit of thought, she sheepishly bowed to Reivan. “My apologies if I sound overly doubtful. But the other parts of the prophecy have yet to be confirmed…”
Reivan raised a brow and thought back to what she said earlier.
He was young. A human too, though just partly. Also, he had white hair and a pair of golden eyes that all warbeasts shared.
‘...Ah. Right. How could I forget?’
With a bit of a mental nudge, the oldest companion in his soul roused from its light slumber, manifesting into reality as a giant obsidian serpent that could easily wrap itself around mountains. Golden eyes with slits down the middle domineeringly bore down on them all from above.
Reivan unconsciously whistled, looking up at Zouros. It had been some time since he let his favorite danger noodle out and about in full size, but he still noticed how much bigger it had gotten.
Which was strange since his Might didn’t increase at all, even though his partner was so much more intimidating now. It hadn't moved since years ago, staying at a flat one thousand for some odd reason.
“Wings, Zee,” he called out to it. “You forgot the wings.”
Zouros twitched, realizing its blunder. Its mouth yawned open as a giant pair of black wings cast a dark shadow over them all.
“Beautiful…” Iselle stared up at it in reverence, falling to her knees. “There can be no mistake. The aura I can sense from this serpent is similar to The Desolate One.”
Following her, the other darkin prostrated on the cursed soil, chanting something he couldn’t understand. It sounded like one of those Buddhist chants he rarely heard in his past life, though obviously in an entirely different language.
Reivan scratched his head as he watched them, feeling as if hurrying them would be too disrespectful. It was obviously a big deal to them and he didn’t want to ruffle their feathers for no good reason.
‘Heh. Ruffle their feathers. Cuz they have wings and stuff. Get it, Zee? Aren't I funny?’
Zouros, obviously, did not like his puns. But it didn't have to roll its eyes in front of all these people. With how huge it was, everyone noticed.
While waiting, he occupied himself by fooling around in his head, but he had to stop when Zouros’ thoughts funneled into him.
‘Oh? You like them, huh?’
Reivan mentally asked Zouros to clarify if that meant it liked them as food or as people, and the giant serpent responded that it was the latter. Which was good. Because there was no way he was feeding all of these ladies to Zouros no matter how persistently it asked.
‘You want me to help them out? Well, I was already planning to do that, but sure.’
Surprised by the serpent’s request, Reivan couldn’t help but raise a brow. Zouros didn’t ask for much, all things considered. It was actually a mannerly little bugger, going as far as to sleep for the majority of the day so it didn’t devour everything in the kingdom’s food reserves. A world-devouring serpent understandably had a voracious appetite, after all.
As such, Reivan was even more inclined to help these people out.
Now the request was coming from both Zell and Zouros, he had to do his best. He couldn't let the two snakes down.
Zouros eventually put a stop to the worship session by shrinking into a more manageable size, draping itself over his shoulders while staring at Iselle. Taking this as a sign, the other darkin stood up too.
“That should prove it without a doubt, I hope?” Reivan grinned and offered a hand to help Iselle up.
She nodded, gratefully accepting the unneeded help to stand. “Yes. You are indeed the one spoken of in our prophecies. It seems the endless night has finally ended...”
“Yes, it most definitely has. Now, let’s get everyone out of here. I’m sure everyone’s tired, hungry, and just generally tired of this accursed place. Anywhere is better.”
Iselle nodded, turning to her people and speaking in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Clearly, she was summarizing things in a positive fashion because all the pretty ladies had visibly brighter expressions.
“That went well.” Uncle Viktor stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder. “Those pearls sure are handy. You got them at the perfect time too.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“All according to plan,” Reivan shamelessly lied. He most definitely did not have a plan of any sort. The encounter with Aguru and the pearls of wisdom were total coincidences that unexpectedly bore fruit. “I heard you had Dame Lamorak with you?”
“I do. She’s over there. See that woman hiding from responsibility? That’s her.”
With mild amusement, Reivan followed his gaze to find the only other person who laughed at his uncle’s expense earlier. Aside from himself, that is.
‘Oh, so that’s why she looks like a Mercer. Because she is one.’
Black hair and eyes weren’t exactly uncommon in the kingdom, but about nine times out of ten, anyone with this combination was of the Mercer bloodline. Even more so if they were inhumanly attractive. Good genes seemed to run in the family, which justified why the royal family so often picked marriage partners out of their clan.
Dame Lamorak must have noticed his gaze since she languidly saluted before floating over to him and saluting again. “I greet His Highness, Prince Reivan. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he responded as he froze. A familiar scent just invaded his nose. Just to make sure, he sniffed the air again. “Is that the smell of Bliss? A highly concentrated variant too…”
“You know of it, Your Highness?” Her brows shot up for a moment before nodding to herself, seemingly having come to some kind of conclusion. “I see. I suppose princes know how to party as well.”
“Uh, no… I generally make a point of partaking in all kinds of medicinal implements. It's for my special gift...”
‘Also, I sell this crap.’
Or rather, the secret organization he was technically the head of sold it. In the past, that is. That was no longer the case, according to Elsa.
It somehow made its way to Arkhan, but initially, Bliss was a sedative widely prevalent in the kingdom before the church set up shop. Now it was just a narcotic, though still used for its original purposes in more remote sections of the republic.
‘Is she an addict…? Hm. That doesn’t sound right.’
The unspoken question must have shown in his face or his silence because Dame Lamorak sheepishly answered it for him. “Overusing my unique techniques gives me somewhat of a headache, you see. I take Bliss to ease the side effects.”
“I see…”
“Ever since I Ascended, I could handle the downsides easier. But I still use it out of habit. Also, it feels great, so...”
‘Hey…!’
Reivan scratched his head, not really knowing what to make of it. Ultimately, he decided to just ignore it. If she was so respected as a knight, she couldn’t possibly be someone who couldn’t manage her vices. Besides, she might just be downplaying how bad the side effects were. Knights generally had the predisposition to treat any hardship as some form of masochistic training. Ashamed as he was to admit, he had a similar mindset.
“I can make more concentrated doses that’ll last for longer if you want,” he offered with exasperation. “I’ll have someone do a survey of how many people might need it first. So I can get a better idea of how much I need to make. It’ll show up as an available provision in, say, a week or two?”
“That’d be great!” Lamorak smiled. “You’re so nice, Your Highness. And you’re unmarried too. Do you like older women, by any chance?”
“Maybe if they’re only a little bit older. More than a hundred-year gap is a bit much.” Reivan rolled his eyes checking to see if the darkin were ready to cross the portal with them. Iselle was silently waiting at the front of her group, waiting for him to address her. “Are you and the others ready, Lady Iselle?”
“Yes, we are.” She nodded before showing him the pearl that he hadn’t taken from her yet. “What do I do with this now?”
“Oh, you can keep it with you. Kindly help the others use it as well. That way, you’ll know the language spoken over on our side. Just please be careful not to lose or break it.”
Reivan wasn’t sure how much force the pearls could withstand, but he and everyone who knew of them were understandably reluctant to test the limits. There were few of these pearls, after all, and they couldn’t be reproduced.
Not by humans, that is.
‘Aguru apparently vanished.’
A few of the knights had gone over to check after the Sage King’s death. But they found no traces of the simian hermit. The hut was still there and the area Aguru usually lived in wasn’t affected by the fiasco, but the knowledgeable ape was nowhere to be seen.
“We will surely take care of it and return it in pristine condition,” Iselle assured him. "You have my word. I will stake my life on it."
“I like the enthusiasm, but there's no need to talk of lives... Uh, anyway, let’s cross. Kindly follow me. The knights will wait until everyone has crossed.”
The darkin princess nodded, letting one of the other four-winged darkin cross first before steadily funneling the weaker ones. Only then did she and the third Ascendant darkin cross.
“Alright, then.” Reivan clapped his hands, turning to the knights. “With your safe return, your missions are now officially complete. The royal family thanks you for your service. Given the risks you bore during this mission, you are all given an entire month of paid leave that isn’t included in your already accumulated vacation days. Please take this time to rest and recharge before your next post.”
There were a few scattered whoops and cheers, with Lamorak even pumping her fist a little. But Reivan noticed a few Ascendants who almost seemed troubled at the notion of having no work for a month. Really, workaholics existed everywhere.
“Well, that’s good.” Viktor shrugged, picking him up by the scruff and dragging him over to the portal. “Enough talk. I’m sick of this place and I want a good drink!”
Reivan let himself be picked up as he signaled for the other knights to follow after.
----------------------------------------
There was a bit of chaos after that. Obviously because of the visitors.
Surprisingly, the darkin didn’t appreciate the sun or its brightness but absolutely adored the fresh air, so the light was a tradeoff they were willing to endure. They also seemed averse to the idea of staying inside the palace, which seemed like a carved piece of stone in their eyes.
The darkin couldn’t even take a seat, given how incompatible they were with most human furniture meant for sitting. Chairs usually had backs, after all. And darkin wings grew from their lower backs. That meant chairs and darkin did not go together at all. And it seemed they disliked having to sit elevated off the ground. Beds were similarly a strange thing for them.
Taking all of that into consideration, the darkin were temporarily housed in the Sword Sanctum, of all places. They were enamored by the lush trees and the freedom of being able to fly without crashing into any spires. And it worked out for the kingdom too, because there were loads of Ascendants residing in the mountain, essentially acting as the darkin’s guards—or enforcers, on the off-chance they misbehaved.
Reivan felt a bit strange though. He felt as if he was being rude to guests by letting them stay outside. But then again, who was he to force his human preferences on a race that was completely different from his own?
Some simple clothing was modified for the darkin and handed out, to which they were quite grateful. He certainly couldn’t have a race full of women run around in worn-out rags, after all. The knights unfortunately didn't pack any spare clothes because they were using every spatial storage space they had for supplies among other things, so the darkin was still dressed in the same clothes they were found in—rags for the ordinary darkin and slightly less-raggy rags for Iselle and the other two four-winged ladies.
Certain womanly parts were constantly peaking out from time to time and the menfolk among the knights were visibly stressed about maintaining gentlemanliness.
As for food, surprisingly, the darkin had the attitude of “If it’s edible, I’ll eat it.” so there were no problems on that front. But he supposed that made sense since they lived in the Outlands for years. Reivan really wanted to ask them what they actually ate back there, but that would have to be for later.
The knights had shared field rations with them on the return trip though, and some of the darkin apparently cried tears of joy because of how good it was. Taking that into account, they might just have a stroke over how good freshly served stuff was.
All in all, despite some troubles due to how different darkin and humans were, Aizen’s new winged friends were very well-behaved guests. That fact made them easier to like, at least. Reivan would have wanted to give them at least a day before he pestered them about details and whatnot, but Iselle surprisingly approached him first.
She said she wanted to talk about the future of their clan. And so that was why Reivan, his brother, and his little sister Jiji were meeting with her.
“I apologize if I’ve taken up too much of your time,” Iselle once again prostrated, kneeling before them on the Sword Sanctum’s verdant grass. “I understand that our differences have caused some…issues. You even had to meet me out here, instead of in your home.”
“I don’t mind, actually,” Jiji commented with a smile as she shamelessly sat down on the blanket Reivan had laid out for himself. “It’s like a picnic. We haven't had one in a while.”
Reivan frowned at her but he’d honestly foreseen it. And he was about to lay one out for her anyway, so it didn’t really matter. “We don’t mind, Lady Iselle. No need for all this bowing and scraping. Right, Your Majesty?”
“My brother’s right. Please, relax.” Roland chuckled as he sat on the open grass without a care. “We welcome your kind here, milady. According to my brother here, you are called darkin? Did I say that right?”
Iselle nodded with a mildly surprised look on her face. “The Chosen One is correct. In our tongue, it means to be free.”
Reivan and Roland shared a look. The two of them had thought that "darkin" had something to do with how black their wings were or the darkness attribute that their entire race seemed to share. Now they mutually felt embarrassed over how simple-minded they were.
“That’s a very powerful message, naming your race that,” Jiji spoke up to fill the silence that the brothers left. She then gestured at the ears atop her head as her tail peeked out from behind her. “As you can see, it is not only humans that reside here. Aizen is quite accepting of other races, should you choose to integrate into this nation.”
There was an unspoken inquiry in Jiji’s words that Reivan immediately recognized. And obviously, his brother did too. But both of them decided to see how things played out. Their sister certainly seems to have it covered.
“That’s certainly a relief, Your Highness.” Iselle placed a hand on her chest and sighed. “If we have a place in this community, then we would be happy to do our part.”
“Well, there’s plenty of room… is what I’d like to say.” Jiji gave the two men a side glance. “But given your aversion to enclosed spaces, I don’t think you’ll like the undercities very much.”
‘Oh. That’s true…’
Mimi and Jiji’s clan—the Terracatta Clan—were all too happy to be housed in the undercities. In fact, they would have preferred that to a penthouse suite aboveground. They just felt at home, surrounded by earth and stone.
The darkin were different though. They seemed to prefer places where they could take to the skies at any time. He supposed it made sense from a survival standpoint, given how they had to constantly be ready to flee for their lives while living in the Outlands. Lifestyles tended to change when one had no choice but to live in such inhospitable conditions.
Or maybe it wasn’t because of a habit ingrained in their previous lifestyle. Maybe it was just a racial thing. Honestly, who knew?
“I’m sure we’ll work something out,” King Roland assured the slightly anxious darkin. Seemingly seeking to take her mind off it, he changed the subject. “By the way, Lady Iselle. I noticed that you don’t have any men with you. Did you get separated from them, perhaps?”
Iselle seemed confused for a moment before her shoulders jumped and she clapped her hands. “Oh, I almost forgot. Our world had humans too, so I unconsciously thought you would know.”
‘There were humans in their world too?’
Jiji seemed to be just as curious as him, but she decided to move the conversation along instead. “Know what?”
“That our kind do not have males.” Iselle smiled sheepishly. “We reproduce asexually. Though some of us do take mates from other species, especially if they meet one that they get along with…”
Their eyes momentarily met for a moment, but she quickly averted them.
Reivan cleared his throat and pretended it didn’t mean anything. “I have trouble imagining how that works. Can you enlighten us? If it’s not asking for too much.”
“Not at all.” Iselle shook her head. “This was common knowledge back there. It is known by all other races that the darkin reproduce by laying eggs.”
The three royals were stunned for a moment before Jiji hesitantly clarified. “...Eggs? You... Uhm, you lay eggs?”
“Yes. About once a month, each darkin beyond a certain age will lay an egg.”
Reivan gulped, unconsciously imagining it. How big were these eggs if a literal darkin hatched from them? Where would the egg even come out from? The vaginas, right? Or do they have something else down there that can facilitate hatching eggs better? Do their stomachs just open up like the Red Sea?
So many questions. Also, could he watch? Was that no good? Did they get embarrassed by that or is that something they can do in public? If it was, then that would be a bit of a problem. There would be mayhem if darkin just started laying eggs in public. Like in the middle of a street or something. Or a back alley.
Feeling Jiji’s glare, Reivan stopped that train of thought even though he was really curious about how the egg-laying worked. “By the way. You mentioned something interesting earlier. Do humans truly exist in your world too?”
“Yes. Though they had seemingly been wiped out by the time I was born.” Iselle sighed as her gaze fell to the hands crossed over her lap. “The elders speak much of the time when everything was still right. On occasion, they would speak of humans and how well our two people got along. Also, my mother showed me an illusion of one when I was a child. I never knew I’d live to see the day when I actually get to meet them. A hundred human warriors at that.”
Roland smiled. “Well, you’ll get plenty of chances to see them now that you’re here. By the way, I'm only half of one. I have qualities from both my parent species.”
"Oh, my. Truly? I heard that such a thing is impossible."
"Well, you should've told that to my parents nineteen years ago. Because it's too late now."
For a while after that, the meeting was quite pleasant. It became a sort of cultural exchange between humans and darkin. The three royals asked her about how darkin worked while Iselle asked about relatively mundane things, such as inquiring about how weather worked.
It was when the sun began to set that Iselle finally took a deep breath, her face shifting more into a serious one.
“I truly must apologize for my impudence…” Iselle scooched forward and once again prostrated. “I know you have already done us a great favor—a favor we can never truly repay. I was going to stay quiet about it but I just cannot do so any longer…”
Reivan shared a glance with both of his siblings before he spoke out, trying his best to avoid being too rough. “What do you mean, Lady Iselle? Judging from your words, you seem as if you wish to ask us for something...?”
The darkin didn’t get up, merely nodding as her forehead touched the ground. “I and the ones you have saved are actually just a small part of our clan…”
“Oh?" Jiji tilted her head. "And where are the others, then? I don’t think the others saw anyone else. Though I suppose depending on vision in the Outlands lacks reliability.”
“We were separated when a horde of powerful demons attacked our temporary base. Each one was as strong as an Isuul.”
Apparently, “Isuul” meant four-winged in their tongue. So basically, they were an Ascendant. And "demon" was the closest English word Iselle knew for "Nightmare Spawns" because the origin of the pearl's knowledge didn't know about them.
‘A horde of Ascendant nightmare spawns, eh?’
If Reivan had been there, he would have gotten squashed flat. A puny mortal like him couldn’t go up against any one of those bastards. According to his uncle, who was getting black-out drunk at the moment, they had apparently run into a horde on the way back.
That had been why one of the darkin was slain. It was a young girl who was also coincidentally the first one to make contact with Viktor and the other knights. Worst of all, his uncle wasn’t the only one who felt like shit that they’d let such a young kid die on their watch. In the chaos, nobody had even seen how the kid died—there was nobody to be found and only an arm was left.
Even though knights prioritized the kingdom and its citizens, it wasn’t as if they were unfeeling monsters who could indifferently watch a child get torn apart by nightmarish creatures for sport. Even if they only saw the result, and not the process.
“And you want help saving these people…?” Jiji hesitantly asked. "The rest of the darkin, you mean."
Iselle silently remained prostrated for a few moments before answering. “I know that it is asking for too much, but please… I will do whatever you wish. Please. Please save the others as well...”
The slight tremble in her voice couldn’t escape any of their ears, and the royal siblings exchanged wordless glances yet again.
“I know I shouldn’t ask this.” Reivan licked his lips in hesitation but pushed through. “If it’s true that they were attacked by a horde filled with that many monsters, then are you sure there is anybody left to save?”
Iselle looked up and nodded seriously. “All of our warriors were there too. My two servants and I are nothing compared to them in combat. If we survived, there is much hope that they have as well. Not to mention how numerous they are compared to our motley crew.”
“Can I ask how many?”
“I think there should have been around a thousand warriors before the attack. Though many must have died because of how sudden the demonic stampede was.”
Reivan gulped.
A thousand.
In lumens, that was not much for a prince like Reivan. But it was a massive number when it was used to count Ascendants.
Perhaps seeing that the three were still skeptical, Iselle dropped a bombshell. “My mother is there too, and she’s an Ashuul.”
“Ashuul?” Roland leaned forward, and even Jiji did too. “Does that mean what I think it means…?”
“Six Wings.” Iselle clarified for them. “I believe you call people of her caliber… a Transcendent?”
Once again, the siblings exchanged silent glances.
The presence of a Transcendent changed everything from the kingdom’s standpoint. Not only did the tribe’s survivability shoot up, but Aizen now had the opportunity to build an incredibly positive relationship with another Transcendent. Possibly one that had immense combat experience.
Recruiting them was more than a possibility.
Even if they somehow disliked the kingdom, there were no other alternatives aside from the Aizen Kingdom within the confines of Sentorale. The Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan was essentially no more and the Argonia Empire was so racist they made the KKK look like incarnations of Mother Theresa.
And if they flew over to another continent, they’d have to compete with other races for supremacy, potentially depleting their forces even more.
‘Agh, so not all of them were saved… Fuck.’
Reivan was a bit different from the other two accompanying him. While he did still care about the benefits saving the darkin brought to the kingdom, he was more concerned with fulfilling the favor he owed Zell. His current happiness wouldn't even be possible if it weren’t for her help in reincarnating. The feeling of indebtedness in his heart could never be forgotten or ignored.
There was Zouros’ mental nudging too, urging him to help the darkin out.
‘Geez. Why do you even like them so much? Is it just because of the wings? Why do you still eat other snakes then?’
He didn’t get a response, just more mental prodding. Or rather, he should just call it pestering at this point.
With a sigh, Reivan scratched his head as the gears in his mind started turning. They were rusty and produced alarming noises as they did so, but they were turning, alright.
That would have to be enough.