Aziz looked at his reflection in a window and tugged at his collar. He was wearing a tuxedo that was simultaneously easy and tough to move in. The fabric was firm to the touch, and his prior tests had shown that only a full-power slash from a sword or knife would be able to create a rip or two in it.
It was odd that this formal dress had better defence than his military attire, but Orb was full of weirdos who thought that way. Perhaps, this enhanced defence was to protect important people at social occasions…in which case, its creators were no weirdos.
There were quite a few pockets in this suit of his, and after deliberating for a moment or so, Aziz picked up a small flip knife and stowed it into his right trouser pocket. It was for safety’s sake, and having taken the first step of arming himself, the colonel soon decided that bringing along a Palisade or two wouldn’t hurt either.
Of course, he always had his Dynamo with him, so all these preparations weren’t really necessary, but better to be safe than sorry. Smoothening out his necktie, Aziz stepped out of his room and headed to the commander’s office, where Marie was probably already waiting.
The marshal was wearing an ocean-blue robe. It was loose around the arms and the legs, only tightening somewhat at Marie’s hips to show off her slim figure. Aziz could make out some weapons that had been stowed inside her own attire, and with a jolt, the colonel realised that Marie too was assessing the equipment he was bringing along.
“Nice to know that you aren’t taking this conference at face value,” Aziz said. “I count at least ten artefacts on you.”
“As expected of the division’s combat expert, Aziz. You’re only bringing four artefacts along.” Marie removed a few pins from her usual hair bun, and golden waves fell onto her neck. She turned it into a ponytail a few moments later, and then turned to face the colonel after checking her appearance in the window.
“How do I look?”
“Fetching, ma’am.” Aziz raised a thumbs-up. “Lovely.”
“Excellent. Shall we be on our way then?” Marie asked. “The Conference of the Four begins in an hour, and I would rather be inside when the great gods finally make it to the Central Circle. Their appearance will be a grand show, but I haven’t forgotten what happened when us mortals looked at the descent of their Divine Kingdoms back then.”
The colonel nodded grimly. Exploding heads were the fates of anyone who laid eyes on the descent of the great gods. He had no desire to see that tragedy repeat, and orders had been passed down to everyone to not look at the great gods when they made their entry.
Similar instructions had been circulated to the militaries and delegations from the Five Lands at large. Getting heads blown up right now wasn’t a good idea whatsoever, since the Five Lands needed as many able bodies as possible.
“Yes, ma’am,” Aziz replied. He pushed the window open and flew out of it, descending onto the ground below. Two companies — the Alpha Companies of both Thunderbolt and Stardust — were waiting for him and Marie, every soldier in them wearing their ceremonial set of uniforms.
Marie joined him a moment later. Stepping forward, her eyes looked at everyone arrayed before her, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Traditionally, the soldiers in any battalion’s Alpha Company are the best in both discipline and ability. Do not let this tradition die with you. Am I clear?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Their unified reply shook the clouds above.
“Very good. Let us depart, then. Do not shame the Republic.” She took to the skies, and everyone else mirrored her a heartbeat later. “Let us head over to the heart of the Central Circle.”
Wind howled, and two orderly bodies of soldiers followed as Aziz and Marie flew over to the location of the conference. It was a building built on the site of the long-destroyed Holy Temple, one that boasted of the modern-style architecture that he’d seen in both the East and the North before.
“The Octagon, eh?” Aziz mused out loud, as the large structure came into view. There was some symbolism he didn’t quite understand in its decoration; the Octagon was coated in a shimmery silver that threatened to blind him if he stared at it under the sunlight. Their flight direction changed ever so slightly — they were no longer flying directly at the Octagon.
“Looks like it’s painted with true silver or something,” Marie replied. “You know, the coating of the knives that were issued when the division went to kill some snowpyres.”
“Oh, that thing?” Aziz thought back to the complaints he heard from the company commanders when they began to mop up the snowpyres in Machia. He didn’t take part in it, but he’d heard lots of complaints about why they had to either use knives or qi, and nothing else.
Which was odd, since the entire concept of an aerial division was to lay down heavy volumes of qi projectiles, but maybe these jokers had something else in mind.
“What’s so special about true silver anyway?” Aziz asked.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“It’s some kind of primordial mineral, apparently.” Marie looked back at the soldiers following her for a few moments. “Something that belongs to the original Orb. Rumour has it” —she lowered her volume slightly— “that the famous Zeroth Armaments use minerals like these as the base material for construction. That’s why they’re so powerful.”
“I wonder if I can get my hands on them,” Aziz replied. “Imagine a Thunderbolt or a Stardust equipped with those Zeroth Armaments.”
“Keep dreaming,” Marie replied. “You’ll be better off using that mind of yours to write more papers.”
“What a slave-driver.” Rolling his eyes, Aziz continued to follow Marie quietly, his eyes taking in the glassy ground of the Central Circle. This was the result of a Demigod making a move on two Constellations, and as that thought flashed through his mind, the colonel couldn’t help but wonder about the outcome of great gods clashing with each other.
The Octagon, up close, was even more dazzling than ever.
Experts of the North — each of them at least a Knight — were already stationed around the place, their eyes hiding an alert light. Even from afar, Aziz could feel the tremendous might swirling around them, ready to explode into action any time.
They were already prepared to fight.
Surrounding the Octagon, which was an eight-sided building that blinded anyone who looked at it, were stations manned by staff. Aziz could see that similar stations had been set up at the eastern and the western side of the building, presumably for their respective delegates. But what was most fetching of the entire set-up was the Unity, which was hovering a kilometre aboveground.
The details of the Octagon’s security had been given to the Republic beforehand. The Mortal Light Dynasty had stationed an oversized aerial battalion on the Unity itself, as well as a Paragon, who would not be participating in the Conference of the Four. Of course, all these would pale if the rumours flying around were true.
Marie landed in front of their designated landing zone, and led the others along to the entry post. The staff waiting for them saluted as Marie and Aziz approached, and after returning the salute, the two walked towards the table.
“Marie de Francois, the Republic of Francois’ Chief of Air. Good afternoon to you,” said the staff. “The Republic’s State Council is already inside.”
“I see,” Marie replied. “Please process our own guards’ entry as soon as possible.”
“Not a problem,” the clerk replied. “Please, go in first.”
“Very well.”
He stood up and bowed as Marie got up from her seat, and Aziz followed her into the building itself. A wave of cold air smacked his face as he entered the shiny Octagon, and Aziz began to understand why so many layers of clothing had been assigned to him. The interior of the Octagon had an environment close to a mild winter; if he was wearing his usual uniform, the colonel would probably start shivering after a while.
Marie turned to him, a brilliant smile on her face.
“Alright, you’re the wisest. Happy?” Aziz tugged at his collar again. This refined, restrained look didn’t seem to suit him all that much, but now that he had some time to get used to it, it didn’t seem all that bad. Maybe the attire had learnt to grow with him or something.
“Ehehe.” Marie adjusted her robes, and began to give off what felt like a ‘Praise me!’ aura. Aziz glanced at the marshal, before giving in to that pretty sight.
“As expected of our brilliant marshal,” Aziz forced out, a grin on his face. “So wise! So far-sighted!”
After laying it on a bit more thickly, she turned away from the colonel and stared at a wall, which was also equally shiny. When she next turned back, the Marie Aziz knew had returned, and without much ado, she led Aziz to the reception counter.
“You must be the Republic’s Chief of Air,” said the staff member. “The rest of your State Council is waiting for you at Block C of the seats. To get there…”
Marie exchanged a few more words, and then moved according to the directions given, humming a light tune.
“How is it that everyone knows who you are?” Aziz asked. He was somewhat curious.
“Probably Minister Pauline’s doing,” Marie replied. “Plus, we are rather famous, no? That guy who just passed us did a double-take at both you and me.”
“That’s not particularly convincing.” Aziz watched as a door slid open without anyone doing anything, and then followed the marshal in as they entered a grand hall. In its middle was a long table that was shaped like a ‘C’. Seats were placed outside the semi-complete circle, each of them lined with a comfortable looking material.
Around twenty-four people would be sitting in the main stage, around the U-shaped table. The others would make do with the conventional audience seats, which were probably reserved for dignitaries who weren’t intending to have a speaking role in the Conference of the Four. It was probably worth nothing that the inwards of the ‘C’ formed by the centre table was facing the general audience, a design that Aziz found was to his liking.
“Apparently,” Marie whispered, “this room was built to mimic that of a supranational organisation’s conference room back on Earth, the United Nations Security Council Chamber.”
“Well, the current Pinnacle is rumoured to be an otherworlder, after all,” Aziz whispered back. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise that something this elegant came from his world.”
“True.”
Aziz and Marie inspected their surroundings as they walked over to the rest of the State Council, who had occupied ten or so seats. The delegates from the Southern Assembly were there too, but since the Assembly had over a hundred people, they weren’t too hard to spot. Aziz could feel eyes fall on them — Marie in particular — as they made their way to Minister Pauline.
“Minister Pauline.” Both of them nodded their heads and greeted her.
“Marie, Aziz. Good afternoon to both of you,” Pauline inclined her head. “You’re early…don’t look at us like that, we got the time wrong.”
“I-I see.” Marie cleared her throat and found an open seat to plop down on. “This Conference of the Four is a historical event, though. I’m excited.”
“Don’t be…is what I’d usually say,” Pauline replied. “But the agendas for this particular conference is so shocking, I pity those who weren’t able to see it for themselves. Add the great gods on to that, and anyone in their right mind should be totally excited.”
Her eyes twinkled. “After all, the first thing on the list is a direct address to the great gods themselves. A prohibition on granting any and all lives on the Five Lands their power. That’s going to stir up a huge storm, especially since the great gods aren’t aware of the conference topics. I’m looking forward to it.”