"Mono/Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
Narration
[Message/communication apparatus]
Date: Early June 646 AU
Location: Forgotten Ocean, West Regalian Control Zone
POV: Narrator
“Milord, the steel dragon and its drakelings had made another pass.” Gallenor sighs from both exasperation and relief. He had been hearing such news for weeks: how a rge steel dragon made periodic passes on their camp along with one or two pairs of smaller ones. At first, no one could deny the growing dread of being observed openly, but there was nothing they could do either.
For a few days thus far, they have searched the burnt-down camp; perhaps the cascade of magical residue had lengthened the hellfire, but he knows not the truth. Fortunately, there were still some survivors, beasts of burden and steeds of war, and leftover supplies enough for three weeks… if they don’t spoil, that is.
So many corpses strewn on the battlefield. Made worse by how the majority of them are still burning brightly to their bone. His men who have been out on an excursion find themselves gagging from the sight, but they dutifully press onward. Thus after days of retively stilted search, the total survivors reached the fourth digit.
They suffered wounds ranging from debilitating bruises to horrific burns, but some did, physically, survive. Gallenor also secured the ensved popuce, especially the Demis, who got their ears cut off or stripped of any dignity. As positive as that sounds, the survivor of the bzing hellfire amounted to less than 400 on top of the aforementioned thousands. Lastly, judging by how bright the fme had been burning, there would be no need for cremation.
Questions float around the camp, names of the prisoners. It would have been a nightmare to keep that many prisoners, especially with how their side numbered barely above 110 people able to fight. The Lord Commander has no supplies to spare for the scums, so he only kept a view for interrogations while the rest made up of low-ranking soldiers were executed. To keep things simple, he ordered the mages to make earthen walls, herded the prisoners, confined them bit by bit inside, then lit them up with fireballs.
It was more of a mercy, too, they had been disturbed greatly, with none among them who didn’t go mad in fright from a mere flighty touch. One of his subordinates tried to prolong their suffering, but he admonished them, saying that those same hands being used on these worthless, sorry excuse of a soldier and human being could be used to save their injured comrades and people.
This routine held up for a while.
All changed when that same dragon dropped what appears to be a wooden box. When it was dropped closer to the camp for the first time, they prepared for the worst. They all witnessed how those smaller steel beasts were seen dropping an egg, barrel, or whatever. The foreign objects soon exploded into a fiery plum of fme that doesn’t just burn but devours anything it touches indiscriminately. Their immediate reaction was either to run away, trying to save their lives, or just give up and wait for the end.
Strangely enough, these things that were dropped did not explode. It cascaded gently from the skies using a kind of fabric they did not recognize. After careful examinations, and ample fascination upon the estic fabric that is quite soft to touch, it was revealed to be a wooden crate filled with bottle or perhaps sealed bowl made of steel. There was a simple letter inside, again with unimaginable quality of paper, written on Intercontinental nguage. However, it was very rudimentary and barely readable.
The more schorly knights noticed it was perhaps written by uneducated people. Others argued that these were from thieves instead, no way would someone be dropping these wonderful items with potentially coded words willy-nilly. Others thought that those things could use magic to try and learn their nguage. Their debates continue with no answer in sight.
Such assumptions were soon proven false. Why? The steel bowls were riddled with alien letters no one could read. It was eerie since none of those words were off by even the slightest margin. This entirely new and unknown nguage just reeks of brutalistic approach; it’s clean and minimalistic in stamped form. There was neither art nor uniqueness, only a glimpse of an idea that individuality is a waste of time in regards to efficiency; proven by perfect uniformity usually seen on those rumored superpowers of the world.
Gallenor decides to follow the instructions, which were read as ‘Food, eat, calm, enemy, no.’ Then another one that pointed out the burning pyre around them as ‘Hell, fire, no, touch, spread, fast, bad’. After cautioning his men of the second message, he bashed those steel bowls open to find a grounded meat inside. His men were hesitant, but since they were having a hard time scavenging supplies from the still burning funeral pyre of hell, plus on account of more survivors, he was prepared to make a sacrifice.
Such worry war proven unfounded. The taste was much better than expected, and he soon encouraged his men to partake. There were also some much-needed cloths for the wounded with simple instructions on how to use them, using well-painted images. The Old Commander starts wondering just who these people are, to provide them with so much would also mean they have other motives in mind. At least it shouldn’t be anything nefarious, hopefully…
That was 11 days ago.
“I suppose more food and medicinal cloths given by our unknown benefactor? Their continued support of sagacity was priceless.”
“Indeed, Milord. Although I had noticed how their Intercontinental writing has been improving steadily… could it be that…” His subordinate hesitated to continue any utterance in mind. To say that Gallenor never entertained that same idea would be a lie; then again, they’re truly helpless. If those Imperial Dogs were exterminated with such mind-numbing ease, what chance did their battered, spent, and injured force have?
“We should not lose heart and pray that His Highness-… no, His Majesty, does not meet misfortune.” He heaved a sigh wearily, his body leaning on the rock with his sword not too far away.
“Milord, our rafts couldn’t keep up with the harshness of the ocean…”
“That would be a given, this bsted water is not known to be particurly accepting for even the most experienced and determined explorers.”
“So what should we do?” One of his strategists asked. They had made a crude map of this isnd, enough to give pointers and ideas. Yet the sparseness of it was sadly the reality; there is only a small pond for drinkable water, small animals such as rats and snakes, or risk it by getting on the raft to fish. There is a cave, but it was an ill-advised venture, and Gallenor would rather have it barricaded to prevent whatever is down there from seeing the light of day.
“At the moment, we have no ships to sail home or continue the voyage to where the tide shall lead us. Still, I think we could try scavenging for more materials, we have a mage capable of structural and architectural excellence. We could make do…”
“Then what do you think about our homend?” A squire asked with desperation cing his tone, a hand caressing a pendant tightly.
“General Raegova should have set up the st ditch resistance on the Isle of Fallfiore. It would be a bloody affair to try and seize such a natural fortress…”
“Would he hold? It is impudent of me to say this, but… He was taking command simply because there was no one else.” He was about to answer with ‘Of course he will’ to his words, but decides against it. Giving them false hope is nice, but this might be their grave. Honesty should be better after what they had gone through.
“I do not know, d… For all that could happen, they could either hold or fall already.” He turned his gaze towards a bespectacled and nky d.
“How many of those bastards did that mongrel bring for the pursuit?” the young man flipped through his journal, his eyes bore traces of exhaustion, but he kept his wit sharp.
“Judging by the size, corpses, and signs… we were facing close to 8.000 soldiers, along with many more sailors that I could count.” He paused and id his journal on the table.
“I suspect that they had been swept by the tide or sinking into the deep along with their burning wrecks. That monster wasn’t bluffing, Princess Ionie was serious about putting us all down.” The young d can feel the hostile gazes from his compatriots when he attaches the title to Ionie, but Gallenor doesn’t mind it.
He was about to continue before a female Oathspear entered his tent with an aghast expression.
“M-Milord!”
“What is it, ssie?”
“M-My patrol unit spotted vessels yonder! There were about half a dozen or so! They do not bear any fgs or symbols that we know of. They all fly a fg of azure light!”
“Truly?” He exchanged gnces with his subordinates in the camps. He wordlessly asked for their opinions, and they all nodded.
“Fetch the steeds, I have to see it for myself and gauge our next move.” Everyone saluted the commander and promptly made their exit. Gallenor called for the Oathspear.
“What’s your name?”
“M-My name is Nurle Exa, Milord.”
“Care to be my standard bearer?”
“B-But Milord, I’m just a humble maiden…” The girl's voice shook, but there was telltale excitement that he found endearing. His daughter would be envious seeing her father asking anyone to be a standard bearer of Roselle’s family.
“My ancestors were humble servants too when he first struck a wyvern with a chipped spear. Come now. I have a feeling that we would be witnessing the wheel of time revolve unto a new age.”
“At once!” She was beaming, and that cracked a nice little smile from him. His eyes were cast upon the bde that had been handed down since time immemorial, its silvery shine glowed brighter, and that gave him confidence in tribution ahead.
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Until it didn’t.
“What in the gods’ name…” He could only stare agape at the horizon. A rge vessel made up of steel could be seen floating. This singur, humongous, metallic ship had just crashed and denied any common sense of ship-building principle he had learned.
Such an enormous vessel floats less than 3 dozen of leagues away with an imposing presence akin to castle and rock that breaks the waves. He could spot, albeit barely, several uniformed person moving around its ft deck, their ck of armor might mean they are servants for the knights on board or they adhered a different set of rule regarding war.
He also spotted those same small plus 2 chubby dragons resting on it. He swears there are 10 or so of them in varying kinds. Also, is that an insect? Such a thing reminds him of the Sea Roost those Imperials have, but this one dwarfed them 5 fold if not more. Gallenor starts trying to make sense of this gross viotion of logic.
For one, steel is much heavier, and he doubts that any sail could move such a vessel without tearing itself after a few minutes at best. Two, the massive expenses needed to maintain them, steel rusts quickly, and saltwater is its mortal enemy. Three would be insution, steel wasn’t known to be most receptive when exposed to heat, causing immense discomfort for the sailors. So much more he used to know, but those were false for these people.
The vessel in front of them is accompanied by 1 that looks like a huge carrack for transporting troops and 8 smaller ones, they too are also made of steel. It was puzzling why, but he rationalized that if he used a Knight’s usual conduct, then these small vessels are supports or squires filling the same manner. He knows fairly well about shipbuilding, but sea warfare is beyond him.
The Knights and Oathspears are talking amongst themselves. Never in their lives had they seen such a vessel of indescribable proportion. With a ship that big, it wouldn’t be hard for any boarding action would be suicide, and every time its sailors boarded their foes would most likely mean victory. What catches their eyes the most would be the ck of its arguably most important components: masts and sails.
“Milord, what kind of vessels are those? I could spot nary a sail nor mast…”
“He’s right, Milord, I failed to spot holes for oars as well.”
“Could it be the rumored magic ships used by those superpowers of the north and south from the western world?”
“I do not know… Baroness Suzol should be more knowledgeable about such a topic.” Gallenor stated pinly. He was too awestruck seeing something so intimidating but also majestic and captivating. While he spots no visible weapons, he doubts they are as harmless as they look. Even the smallest snake could bare its fang when you’re careless for even a moment.
“The 1st Seat of Archmagi Tower?”
“Anyone else come to mind? She is the only person who has traversed 3 continents by her lonesome. It was a miracle that she chose to return home.”
“But isn’t she… um…”
“A bsphemous witch, was it?” Gallenor answered the Knight’s hesitance.
“N-no…”
“How many times do I have to drill this into you numbskulls? Knowledge is neither inherently evil nor good. Did you not remember how one of our finest physicians was a Necromancer himself? His research on disease and rot gave us valuable insight into how to combat pgues that feed on flesh.”
“F-Forgive my impertinence, Milord…”
“What’s that?!” His new standard bearer shouted while pointing at a peculiar… insect? Its buzzing sounds were loud enough that he could hear it with utmost crity. The insect has no wings, but something is spinning quickly on top of it. Everyone felt that same fear of the unknown reared its ugly head again, but they held it down. Being watched by these fantastical creatures had increased their courage, as weird as that sounds.
He watched as the insect stayed just a few hundred paces away from him. It turned sideways to show its lengthy figure, and he found one side of that flying insect wide open. It reveals a woman he never thought would see again.
“Narina?!” While she is wearing a strange helmet, her face could not be mistaken by the sharp-eyed Lord Commander.
“That’s Baroness Suzol?!” They needed to shout to speak, the loud noise given by that strange flying object made it difficult to communicate.
“By the Thrice Blessed Heavens, are we saved?!” Their answer came from the dy herself; her smile and joyous tone were infectious, to say the least.
[Am I not gddened to see a fellow Arganean in-between these waters?! Fret not, dear brothers and sisters, the Prince has found himself an amicable benefactor!] Her loud voice was surprising, but the next one she shared with them was enough to bring them to tears.
“Was that true?! Did he find hope across the Forgotten Ocean?! Lastly, what sort of beast are you riding upon?!” Gallenor shouted at the top of his lungs. His mind immediately tched onto the idea that hope was not lost after all the hardships and suffering. Narina could still hear him clearly, miraculous.
[It was no beast old friend, it is a fruit of man’s ingenuity called a helicopter! Wait for me while I nd, and please be mindful of our benefactors! I promise on my name, you shall get your answers as many as you wish!] Simultaneously, 4 flying swords crisscross above the heaven to form a dazzling arrowhead formation, their speed shattered their common sense once again.
Unlike during the darkness of the night, they now internalized how outmatched they are. Everyone knows that flying so fast would harm the body, but these beasts or perhaps flying objects exhibit no such discomfort. They’re the de facto monarchs of this foreign sky, and they can’t be happier to see these flying swords showing indifference to their existence.
This dispy worked as a greeting and warning in equal measure. Narina then requested the pilot to nd, all in Regalian. After she got the basics down, the nguage was simple to learn but difficult to master, especially with words that share meanings.
The helicopter nded on the ground with Narina leading the way out, accompanied by 4 bck armored knights with strange grayish staff. As a military man, Gallenor noticed the danger those 4 exuded, and his bde couldn’t stop trembling within its scabbard. Their postures impressed discipline that made their Royal Knights look like untrained rabble.
Their masked faces provoke some uneasy gnces between them, but seeing how they stand there without projecting any overt hostility, the Arganean calmed down soon enough. The Helicopter had stopped its fascinating wing that turns out to be a windmill of sorts, how amusing. He was shocked that a lithe windmill was attached to it, but decided to question it ter, especially since more are coming from across the sea.
“To answer your previous query, our Prince had found a ray of hope. He is under the protection and care. Then before you protest, I swear that all my travels far west were filled with wondrous findings, and yet none were quite like them except for the fabled World’s Pilrs. Even then, I doubt they could truly measure up to a single arm our benefactor had shown.” Narina shows a pained grin and grim acceptance.
“Disrespecting these people would have… dire consequences… unfailingly so.” The Lord Commander could only sit dazed on his horse. Narina is dead serious because not even a single trace of her usual cheerfulness could be seen. He thinks that it is best to take her words for it, and because he could feel the 4 bck knights staring at him deeply. His honed instinct cautioned him that he wouldn’t even realize if he had died should he raise his arm in hostility.
“I see… but regarding our liege, shouldn’t he be our King? Ionie's treachery had her effectively exempted from her rights, which was a gross misconduct. Where did we go wrong? She was the Brightest Star of Arganea…”
“I suppose, then do you have other questions?” Narina vaguely replied to his question. The Old Knight notices it, but he decides to discuss that ter.
“Yes… and… who are these esteemed people?” Narina nodded and gracefully gestured at the 4 bck armored soldiers.
“These esteemed benefactors call themselves Regalian.”
“Regalian? I never heard such a name.”
“Neither did this Mage at one point, because they are The True Conqueror and Master of the Forgotten Ocean… or as they put it, the Westernmost Frontier.” Even if someone entertained the idea of challenging that cim, the steel beasts above remind them about who is in control.
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POV: Zorphal Xel Arganea
Days, weeks had passed since we made ourselves comfortable in this nd. It was surreal, one moment I was brushing with death, eager to cim me, and then I stood upon an isnd that might as well be named a maiden realm. It would have been a greater tiding if only I could ease my overtly stressed loyal knightess.
She was usually so composed and focused, but after hearing that Regalian would be borrowing Nari for what they call a rescue mission, she is been like this since yesterday. I can empathize with the possibility that her father might have been felled, and I will never wish such a fate to fall upon a loyal retainer, but I need her to calm down.
“Could you stop pacing around so much? You haven’t eaten since morning either, please think more of your well-being. Don’t you say it yourselves how the bread Regalian have was so soft you would beg for 5 more slices?”
My exasperated tone couldn’t be held back, seeing Lua so worried and anxious.
“P-Pardon me, Your Majesty.” Well, that backfired spectacurly.
She is now sporting the face of a beaten hound, I hate seeing her so down. Patting my side of the bed, I asked her to come over. Lua was visibly hesitating, but with a stern look, she relented and sat beside me. What had become of us? I need to force her for every little thing, we are drifting apart…
“Do not worry, the Regalian promised us that they will do their best, didn’t they? Lord Neumann himself had expressed his sympathy for our predicament.” That reminds me of the tall auburn-haired man.
He has an imposing stature, and I was surprised to know that his position is that of an Autarch and possession of a trading company or its equivalent in our nguage. When I asked, through Nari, what such a title’s duties and rights were, he replied that it could be considered as a governor of a province but with expanded authority of a senator.
‘That’s a level of power I found frightening to be wielded by a single person other than the Monarch… I wonder, how powerful is their King to not concentrate his power?’
“While I understand his sincerity and desire to provide more help, it worries me that his terms are so lenient. He did say it would be renegotiated ter, and it filled me with endless paranoia.”
“That is a problem that Nari and I try to solve. It won’t do to be filled with bleak soothsaying. I do concur that if we could convince these mighty people to help us, they would be asking for concessions. That much is natural because, regardless of the circumstances, we barged into their territory unwanted and warranted. We should count ourselves lucky not to be killed or worse.”
“… If, and only if, they tried to wed one of their daughters with you… What would that make of our kingdom? I understand that is a fair idea to ally, but wouldn’t it paint you in a simir light as Ionie did?”
‘She deliberately omitted my sister’s title.’ I understand her angle of questioning. Those who support her would find me a hypocrite for restarting the war. The fate of our home hangs in the bance, and I still do not understand what happened to Dzargo…
I’m a monster for wanting to make right of wrong, but I do owe those who believed in me a closure of their fate. At this very moment, those who seek to hold the golden banner high, their souls are crying out to me to save them. Either through immeasurable indignations or powerless pleas, my connection with the crown only grew stronger the longer time passed by.
‘I need to start considering how to deal with the nobles, merchants, and affluent csses. Siding with the people is the right choice, but our failings are catching up to us.’
The ck of capable personnel, dreadful consequences of te or pin corrupt reforms are rearing their ugly heads. It is presumptuous, but I need to start coming up with a pn to prepare for amnesty and grants. A policy that would harm me in the eyes of the people, but radical change will bring with it chaos. As much as I hate it, opening dialogue with them is a must.
Even if those same people had sworn to protect the people, they only watched as their subjects were hauled back to the Empire’s mines. These people understand their footing, and thus their bets on the Empire’s hegemony. They have enough wealth to keep themselves safe and connections with numerous merchant guilds to further line their pockets. Not everyone is like that, but simple pragmatic thinking is more than enough to tilt the scale to either side.
“It might sound distasteful, but if a Kingdom is the dowry in exchange for freeing our people… we have no choice but to accept. If anything, it would be a fruitful endeavor to foster a retionship with these people. Their technology and might eclipsed our own, their generosity and ferocity are unmatched… So please, don’t torment yourself over this…” I wish I could do more as well.
“…by your will.” We sit in silence for a while. Thoughts are lingering and etching themselves into my mind. I do not know what Regalian wanted, they had strongly rejected the notion of svery. That should be assuring, I know, but sometimes all it takes to coax someone is how you word them.
I heard knocking on the door, prompting Lua to stand up and answer through a cleverly made apparatus called an intercom.
“Who is it?” Her hands reach for the bde by the door and a knife behind her back.
[It’s me.] That’s Miss Dona’s voice. She has been assigned as our point of contact since she’s the only one capable enough to bridge us, aside from Nari. My knightess allowed the female soldier inside, but she just held her hand.
“They have returned, Your Highness.”
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Escorted back to the port, I saw hundreds of people walk down several stairs or ramps. Lord Neumann told me that this kind of vessel was called a repurposed Helicopter Carrier, with the one in front of me being told to be on the smaller side. If that’s true, I’m half dreading to see an even rger one. 3 groups are coming down from there, with the st one exiting from a different ship called a cargo ship.
The first would be those who are still able-bodied and retively hale, who constitute mostly the men and women who follow me across this uncertain journey. Their bewilderment, awe, and fright were painted clearly after seeing the Regalian preparation and readiness to accommodate them. Nari could be seen expining to our people, she is the sole bridge between us to avoid potential problems.
Lua was very hesitant to leave my side, but the moment I urged and permitted her, she bolted towards him. She cried with relief and sadness while hugging the Old Man. Gallenor is my sword tutor, and he cried too upon embracing his daughter, perhaps even someone like him can have his mask slip.
By the by, it was quite surprising to see her cover 2 leagues' worth of distance in a matter of minutes, but she deserves it.
Of course, I’m not alone, Miss Dona and several soldiers are assigned to me as bodyguards.
I’m not so innocent; they keep me close as a precaution if I entertain ideas most untoward, and for I see the truth. Merely watching a single training drill with their weapon called rifles, not arquebuses, my understanding of war was flipped on its head, and my understanding of Regalia soared.
The current gunpowder weapon began rendering full steel pte obsolete, but these rifles made us walk onto the battlefield no different than naked. Steel armor will be needed no longer, because I doubt even our cavalry could reach their line in a serviceable piece. I have my suspicion that those bck knights are not wearing steel, but something else.
Regardless, where was I? Ah yes…, serviceable or most likely they reach in literal pieces. Those constructs are bereft of arcane energy, unching steel bolts called bullets that shred through steel, and these are from the smaller rifle the same way a crossbow is to a ballista or an arquebus to a cannon. I watch a clear demonstration, tailor made to be understood by our understanding.
Amusing, and horrifying, was that demonstration.
Lua gritted her teeth in shame from such a direct humiliation, yet I agreed with their method. It takes days or even weeks to make a good breastpte, and if it fails? Coins would be gone, and we would be bled dry. Then what about the Knights and their Men-at-Arms being trained for years, toiling on their martial craft tirelessly? They will be butchered by even untrained riffraff, permissible and made possible by these rifles’ mechanism that allows even children to fell a beast.
‘Heavens, their polished understanding of warfare is terrifying to behold. They force combat on their terms and design, foes must dance to their tune… I always had my suspicion that the Tarantian has the correct method, but I never thought it would be this severe…’
Once the first group was settled, came the second group, who were lowered using cranes or carried through the ramps, mostly from the second biggest vessel. Healers and Physicians are taking care of the wounded, some with bandages covering their whole bodies. Their pained expression melted into shock as well, the buildings around the port show that they are in another world entirely. There are a few who are afraid of being approached, but some Regalian had learned rudimentary words to calm the frightened folks.
Then the st group, presumably the surviving Imperials and Ioniens regardless of their wounds, are being herded under the hostile gazes of these soldiers. Even this far out, I could not help but shiver seeing the disgust reflected inside those mostly welcoming and accommodating expressions.
I saw one prisoner falter, only to be kicked back up or just dragged through the mud. No dignity shall be afforded to a beast, and that was what my tutors always taught me. These men, butchers and torturers, their way to glory… still, I wonder how people would think if they knew I still harbor pity for them? I should entertain hypotheses ter.
Then, those who resisted were thrown to the wolves for lynching, a single person must weather kicks and punches given by a dozen or more Regalian. They tried to scream for help, but no one answered. They are not just one. When someone made a ruckus, the surrounding prisoners were thrown into the gauntlet to be companions in pain, setting an example of systematic brutality.
Unlike a lynching done by a conqueror on a vanquished to ske their hatred and fury or just pin amusement, the Regalian did it without uttering even a word. Their fists are aplenty to do the talking, and they only stop when these souls wept through bloodied throats and sobbed past tortured lungs. Yanking them back up, they were shoved back into the herd more battered than before; failure to do so would mean another one following soon after.
Some perished, and they were promptly dragged out of sight like a heap of worthless baggage.
All that aggression, I could still see a good part of Regalian that watched unfavorably either way. They did not spare much of a gnce at the prisoner, but I feel like they’re judging their comrades. Some shook their head, others scowled, but most were just staring. Not giving much of an input and just watching like observers that has nothing to do with such an outburst of savagery.
“Anything you wish to comment upon, Your Highness?” Miss Dona mused from my side. I would like to say that I have never entertained blunt questions now and then… though I suppose small talk should be safer for a start.
“For one, you’re very quick in learning our nguage. How?” The woman’s smirk of amusement is indeed charming. I do find her shoulder-length hair rather off-putting, and my sisters would be horrified seeing something like this… heh… I missed them… even my foe.
“Well, it might sound pretentious and unbelievable, but I am a linguist and stenographer before joining the army.” She proudly answered why. I could guess what a linguist might mean but I could not understand what a stenograph is, yet the potential implication is much more fearsome.
‘Their army had been trained in such a way that schorly pursuit won’t hamper personal competence? Is that it? They don’t look like basic conscripts with weeks of training, but they are not intimidating like those bck knights either… are these their version of Men-at-Arms then? That would be very hard to comprehend if I based it on my common sense.’
“You’re saying the rank and file are more than just learned individuals while specialized in specific, non-martial tasks or interests? Fascinating, our army would soon expel those people so the academy won’t raise a compint. Capable bureaucrats are hard to come by.” She still consulted through her dictionary, but it was neither as frequent nor was it as slow.
Speaking about the dictionary, I swore I found a few people walking with an eerily simir imitation in their hands. They studied those books very seriously, to the point that I saw a soldier walk with a book in hand and food in the other hand with their mouth filled with bread.
Narina had yet to say anything, and she would never do anything behind my back. Lua is… hopeless when it doesn’t concern tactics or strategy and politics to an extent. Does that mean Regalia possesses formidable scribes with inhuman skills? That might be the answer since to understand them I need to add a supertive concession to my understanding, else my sanity would be crumbling.
“Not quite, let’s just say an unfortunate circumstance made me a soldier. It was also the reason why I was momentarily detached from the Army to the Navy.” She seems to insinuate a dire situation, but I do not wish to push my luck. I suppose there are still only so many people a rge force could field that don’t fully cater to martial prowess.
“I see… Does Regalian possess higher-learning and schorly institutions? To be precise, much more prolific in number.”
“We do.” Her honest admission was the least surprising piece of information I had learned today. If they have enough skilled bor to construct those frightening floating fortresses, building an academy would be mere child’s py.
“Then… how should a prospective student should do to apply?”
“We have mandatory education up to 16 years, all funded by the government. All done without any test and everyone could be a prospective student. We had found years ago that, barring exceptionally specialized fields, there would be little benefit to make one academy better than the other.” Sixteen years, cost not a dime, and without any test for everyone?!
‘Huh!? Even when I add supertive reasoning and tolerance, this is very much ridiculous! Miss Dona then pinly stated that academies have little difference from one another?! What preposterous nation am I dealing with?!’
“… I… am not sure what to comment on that. Sixteen years of education all shouldered by the government is…”
“Quite the heavy burden?”
“… to put it mildly, or more about how to entice people to learn more.”
“That might be so, but we won’t be such an accomplished country without a skilled and educated popution. Hoarding knowledge meant for the masses is the single most heinous crime one could do.” Her proud assertion made my heart tighten. It mirrored Ionie’s words all too simirly.
What on earth happened that night? Why did she betray her father, our older brother and sister, and why did the crown stay silent? I could not help but agonize about it. My negative thoughts surfacing and boiling through my fa?ade.
“Was something the matter, Your Highness?” Miss Dona addressed me carefully, her worried gaze was enough to snap me back.
“N-Nothing. You made me nostalgic, those words of yours remind me of a wise person.”
“I wager they are someone worthy of respect?”
“… Indeed.”
[END OF CHAPTER]
Author’s Note:
Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who is sick.
The armaments and equipment shown in this chapter are as follows.
YB-60 reconfigured as cargo.
McDonnell Dougs F4E Phantom
U/H-17 Osprey lookalike
Sea Harriers taken from the United Realm of Victoria’s Super Carrier. At the moment, Regalians are reverse engineering their systems, weaponry, and engines to gain further insight into their dead end. Progress has been slow because most resources were allocated to the rebuilding effort which would approximately take 2 years to achieve basic wartime functionality, 5 years to allow leeway in diversification of resource usage, and 15 years to return Regalia to Pre-War status. All of that without mentioning the CBRN’s hazards, which would take 4 decades at least.
Kinda rough…
Knight Malka-Css Corvette, for its general specs, check chapter 4.
Principe De Asturias copy, designated as Prince Greennd-css, was made to carry helicopters and VTOLs.
Tarawa-css escort carrier that was modernized and reconfigured as a hospital ship.
Update? Hah!
Ciao
