Epilogue One: Aftermath Reports

Rupert von Drakas, Twenty Years Old, Third Month of 949

“Give me the short version.” The man in front of me, Commander Henrake, bowed and began to go over statistics and metrics about the siege of Febli.

“As Your Highness wishes. The first army led by Duke Claurence was unsuccessful in breaching the walls until very late in the operation. The second army led by Duke Lester was able to breach the walls quite swiftly through their use of tunnels but ran into heavy Husk resistance. The third army, led by Duke Lawrence’s vassal availed themselves greatly; without their timely reinforcement the second may very well have been wiped out.”

I groaned internally. Those Husk had once been the citizens we had been hoping to secure; valuable resources and production capacity for the coming war. Even if we hadn’t lost the entire city, enough of the population had been turned to make a noticeable dent in production.

“How many, exactly?”

Henrake nodded, “Of the thirty-five thousand citizens residing in the city, fully a third of them were made into Husk.”

Twelve thousand. We should consider ourselves lucky that they did not set them loose in the city itself and turn the entire population… No, not lucky...

I could feel my focus slipping away from me as it often did when I became lost in thought. As always, it was a disconcerting experience. Fortunately, Henrake knew about this little quirk of mine, and he fell silent while waiting for me to resolve my tangent.

Lucky? No no, not. Twelve thousand minus thirty-five. Fifteen kilometers to the next village, then fourteen. Three thousand more. Slip-slip up, mistaken? Lost direction? Not not true, also not true. Sitri, too weak, not able to control. Loss of skills? Fear of uncontrollable spiral. Likely case. Need more information, bigger picture. Plans inside of plans within millennium.

Outbreak would overrun containment within a year. Early action. Yes yes no, can’t act. Too soon. Stahlia spoke of rule, schedule, dates. Too too soon.

“They had no choice but to. If they had let them out, we wouldn’t have been able to contain the outbreak; it would have constituted an attack. Somehow, in a way that I don’t understand, what they did here was ‘legal’.”

Henrake frowned; he understood even less than I did. But then, he had not been told about the game. Only Stahlia, Gustav, and I knew about that. Ferdinand probably knew as well but hadn’t said anything. If the outbreak had spread, it would have constituted an attack before the official start. So we had been spared. Nine more months, and the husks would have been set loose in force… Nine more months…

“Henrake.”

“Your Highness!” He snapped to attention; the urgency in my voice having caught him by surprise.

“Never mind that; when you finish the report, divide our armies into task forces. Inspect every sewer of every major city. Task the adventurer’s guild to check towns and villages. We must be certain that we do not have any hiding kraken.”

“Sir. That will take time…”

“You have a month.”

One month, then we need to ramp up production and consolidate our force strength… That’s what they want, to drain our morale and manpower by having us run around searching for traps… I’d like to call their bluff, but we can’t risk it. We need to be certain.

“Sir…” Henrake of course had objections, the timeframe I’d given him was pitifully short. But there wasn’t much I could do about that, we didn’t have the time.

“Two. Two months is the most I can give you. Then we need to prepare for a long, defensive war.”

He grimaced but nodded; even if he did not know about the game, he knew about the cyclical nature of the demon war. He knew that we were due for another within our lifetime.

“The demon war. So it is true then, Her Highness fought a demon during the siege?”

I nodded, “It is true. Though a rather weak one, the fact that a demon was involved at all indicates that they are making their preparations.”

Already calling Stahlia ‘Her Highness’… Not that she is undeserving, but she hasn’t officially been given that title. Perhaps the faux miracle was more effective than we thought it was… Lady Ris no more it seems.

Henrake sighed, “I would have liked to have more time, to let the men rest and prepare. But we don’t have that, do we? That being the case, if Her Highness really defeated a demon… That would make her one of the Champions, no? She was granted a miracle, so she is clearly one of the gods’ favored.”

His question was predictable, and we had prepared a lie to answer it.

“This information is not yet public knowledge,” I let my words hang in the air for a moment, the threat in them implicit, “Stahlia is the Champion of the Autumn Sect, and is the only currently known champion.”

With Rosial being the true Champion of Autumn, it had hardly come as a surprise when Stahlia approached me regarding the issue. Predictably, she had requested to be given that title herself, to keep her sister as far from the war as possible. Naming her as such came with its own issues, not the least of which was once again lying about the words of the gods.

It also meant she would need to play an active role in the war, hardly a position befitting of a Queen. But to worry about that was an exercise in futility. For one, she would not be dissuaded and I already knew it would be foolish to try. Secondly, any worries about her early death were placing the cart before the horse. If she were to die before giving birth to an heir, I could always re-marry.

Furthermore, having her fight is logical. If she does nothing then the kingdom will be all the more likely to fall to the demons. As it is, we’ve already painted a rather large target on our nation…

Still, there was a feeling of discontent I could not quite shake. Nor could I figure out its source. It was… uncomfortable, to say the least.

“Back to the task at hand, what were our casualties?”

Henrake shifted gears immediately and re-commenced his report, “The second army took the most losses, of their 1,251 men they lost roughly four hundred; seventy knights and the rest common soldiers. The first army lost around two hundred out of their original number. The third army lost only one hundred and sixty; their knights, in particular, availed themselves with aplomb when fending off the Husk.”

Indeed, the Husk aren’t hard to fight, if not for having been caught off guard and by such a numerically larger force the second army would not have suffered so many casualties.

“In the end, once we broke through the sewers and past the wall, the enemy forces surrendered almost immediately thereafter; Her Highness’s speech was most effective it would seem. By the time we made it to his high, to Antonio the majority of the rebels had turned themselves in.”

I nodded, “Have Antonio moved discreetly back to the palace dungeons; no parades, no celebrations. This will be a somber affair.”

It’s too risky to parade my victory, I need to transition the momentum from the civil war, and channel it into a fervor to meet the demons. It’s a good thing we were able to do things with as much ease as we did… Stahlia was far more instrumental in that than she will ever know. As for Antonio, I’ll need him to simply disappear, quietly. I can’t take any risks, even for family.

Epilogue Two: F3: My Isekai Life

Franklin, Twenty Years Old, Eighth Month of 949

“Franklin, this is super important. Don’t tell anyone you’re from another world. If they ask you to fight a demon lord say no. If there’s an adventurers guild, sign up for it; you can usually make good money that way. Try and find me if you can, I’ll do my best to find you. If you meet a god or goddess on the way over be careful and watch out fo-” Professor Claire’s voice was cut off by an explosion, and my vision went white.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

The world around my changed in a flash, and I found myself in an endless white void space. There was nothing whatsoever, except for the figure of a woman wreathed in light. Perhaps it had to do with the utter lack of anything else, but I found myself transfixed by her beauty. She was loosely clothed in something resembling a greek peplos, and the way the fabric draped over her body highlighted every curve.

“Ahem, Franklin dear, please do not stare…”

In a hurry, I averted my eyes. My cheeks grew warm and I could only assume they were now a bright scarlet, “Ah… Sorry…”

What the hell is this? I’ve never been this bashful before.

“Well… don’t worry about it; I have that effect on mortals.”

Mortals? Then, this is a goddess? Claire was about to say something about them, right before she got cut off…

“See Franklin, I am sure you are very confused… in truth, I need your help.” Her face turned a bit to the side, and her lip was quivering. It was… a rather captivating sight.

My own voice caught in my throat, “My, my help?”

“Yes,” She nodded, “You see, there is a world I am responsible for; it is very soon to come under threat… My brother, the god of Darkness is going to set his minions against my believers… I need heroes to represent my interests and match the champions of darkness.”

“…And you want me, a random college student, to be one of those heroes?”

She nodded, “I would like for one of my heroes to be from another world; it is my belief that your unique perspective could benefit the team…”

She was making puppy dog eyes again, but something she had just said had jogged my mind. It was like a fog had cleared, “…From another world… The game, NewLife.”

The pleading expression fell off from her face, “What of it?”

“My friend, George, and my professor, Mrs. Claire. What happened to them?”

A brief look of naked hostility flashed across the goddess’s face, but she quickly brought it under control, “George rejected my offer, though he is still working for my interests of his own accord… Claire was taken accidentally, caught up with you. She has been given a body and placed in a safe place. All I could do for her, out of guilt.”

Yea, guilt. Sure.

It was pretty damn obvious what Claire had been trying to warn me about now; be careful of them manipulating you. Still, if George was now living in this world and working for the goddess, then perhaps joining forces with her would be in my best interest. If I could find George then together we could find Claire, and then try and find a way home. It was a longshot, but it was something. The beginnings of a plan.

Better than nothing.

“Alright, I’ll do it.”

Like clockwork, the goddess’s face adopted a look of relief, “Excellent! Then, please. Accept my blessing.”

Her hand stretched towards me, and a stream of warm reddish-yellow light streamed out of it and washed over me. It took everything I could muster not to jerk out of it.

This will be the isekai-cheat ability bestowment then.

Though I lacked interest in the genre, I was at least somewhat familiar with a few of the most common tropes. The goddess was likely giving me some special power or skill as befitting of the hero.

Sorry Claire, looks like I said ‘yes’ after all.

“Excellent, I have given you the [Blessing of Summer]. Please do your best to develop your strengths…” The white void was beginning to fade away, like a scene transition a new environment was imposing itself around me, “We won’t be able to talk much after I send you through, do your best to find the other three champions! You’ll definitely need their help!”

And just like that, she’s gone.

I now found myself standing on the side of a dirt rode with a town visible in the distance.

I can’t know for sure, but if Claire was with me, she’d probably say this was such a cliché episode one…

“Kleth!” In response to my shout, nothing happened. But besides that, the words which left my mouth surprised me.

That wasn’t English… Well, I know what I said, and hearing the words I knew what it meant… “Status!”

Again, nothing happened.

So, I’ve been given stats and abilities, one of which is called the [Blessing of Sumer], and another is the ability to speak and understand what it likely the local language. But I don’t have the isekai trope status window…

I fell silent, contemplative. I needed a plan, a series of immediate and long-term goals. A quick pat down of my person revealed that I’d been re-clothed in some sort of leather armor, and had a sword and shield strapped to my back. Hopefully, one of my skills would be able to help me with those, otherwise I’d be fucked.

Ok, immediate goal; try out the sword on that tree.

Short-term goal; get into that settlement and begin gathering information.

Medium-long-term goal; find George and the other three champions.

Long-term goal; find Claire and together with George figure out what to do next.

I unclasped the sword and gripped it firmly, taking a moment to check my reflection in the polished blade before setting off toward the tree.

Yea, the character I made looked a lot like me while it was just rendered on the screen. Now that it’s… I’m real, I can’t tell the difference at all.

I had always been rather unflappable and capable of taking things in stride, but I had a feeling that all of this was going to test even my George-trained patience before long.

Epilogue Three: Cursed Champion

???, Sixteen Years Old, Third Month of 950

“And, your point? Simply put them to the sword; they are infected.”

“My Lady.” The warrior before me bowed but protested no further before setting out to commence the execution of everyone in the village. My home village.

But well, it can’t be helped. The Husk have infested this area and we need to contain them. Such is my burden.

In a way, the fact that I had been chosen as the Cursed Champion of Winter was a blessing. Without the heart-of-stone granted by the goddess of winter’s blessing, it was doubtful that I would be able to carry out my task. Beyond the doors of my hut, I could hear the general cries of the villagers, and my former friends, as they were cut down.

A necessary sacrifice, to show the Hell King of Lust that such tactics would not be effective on us. Being granted this title had been a boon indeed. The fact that the goddess of winter herself had seen fit to bestow it upon me… I was beyond lucky.

“You have been chosen as the Champion of Winter. Rise, and claim your title.”

Her words still rang in my ears. To think that I, a simple shrine maiden should have been selected, it made my ears twitch. Almost by reflex, I forced them flat against my head until they stilled. It might not be as irritating as it had been before, but it was still unbecoming.

Though I alone am blessed with this curse, the warriors will soon need to be replaced again, lest they refuse to carry out my orders.

Really, that was the only thing that still worried me; the warrior caste could be rather finicky with their honor. They could be persuaded that certain measures were necessary, but when it became clear that this was routine, they tended to become disinclined towards me. Such actions had already caused one breach of containment, with the Husk managing to slip out and spread further.

Truly, if not for Asmodea, we would have this handled by now.

Husk were, at their core, undead. As such, they were mostly mindless; pursuing any source of life essence they could sense with dogged determination. They would then drain it to be funneled back to the demon that created them, or if that wasn’t possible they would simply kill anything in front of them. But give them a commanding force, and they were fully capable of drawing on their former memories and utilizing advanced tactics. But dealing with her was out of the question. Supposedly, I was capable of doing it. But how was beyond me.

There isn’t anything for it. I’ll just have to keep buying time and wait for the Drakan delegation to arrive.

Stahlia. Stahlia von Drakas. The previous Champion of Winter. My predecessor. Betrayer of the goddess of winter, the mistress of betrayal. Still alive, despite her heresy.

We’d just as soon received the official notice of her and the Drakan third prince’s coronation and wedding when I had been given my own divine oracle. It was little wonder that I would find her fascinating. From a professional perspective, she had been given the same blessing and task as me but rejected them. From a religious perspective, she had managed to pull off a plot against the goddess of plotting. From a political perspective, she had announced her intentions to travel to our kingdom.

The queen of Drakas, a nation that had long looked down on us Beastkin as sub-humans, to be exterminated or enslaved, was coming on a diplomatic mission. There had not been a Drakan monarch present in Sinion for nearly five hundred years, and that one had been executed. Whatever the Raj did with her in the end, I very much wanted to speak with her. If possible, to gain her aid in defeating Asmodea, that is, if she would help.

“Lady Nikita, your tails.” Lata, my attendant’s softly chiding voice rang out and drew my attention to the rhythmic thumping sound of my tails excitedly beating on the floor. I stilled them through sheer force of will; they really were quite troublesome the way they behaved as if they were their own creature.

Ever since becoming the Champion of Winter, my own feelings had vanished completely. Yet my ears and tail still behaved as though I could feel. It made it very difficult to keep up my appearance and command respect. Then again, the very fact that I had tails was usually enough to command respect in and of itself. Yet another boon from my goddess’s cursed blessing.

“Lata, any word from the Raj?”

I had asked her this question once daily for the past month, and the answer had always been the same; there was no news.

“Yes, I was planning to wait until after the… until after dealing with this village; Her Majesty Stahlia von Drakas und zu Ris arrived this morning.”

My tails immediately began thumping excitedly again, but for once I ignored them despite being fully aware of their misbehavior.