"Reavers." King Aldrecht spoke slowly as he descended from his throne. "They are the ultimate judges of this reality, and you have just brought them to my feet, Princess?" He said coldly as he stood no less than a meter away from the silver haired woman.
The knights and guards around were tense. Though the majority had sheathed their blades, the guards around the king had their sharp edges aimed at the Rangers. Lecca maintained composure as she gently held up a flat palm to the worried men behind her. A momentarily glance was exchange between her and Captain Thompson as she worked to defuse the situation.
"The situation you had placed me in so suddenly forced my hand and I misjudged the spell that was being cast." Lecca reasoned. "Perhaps it would've been ideal to discuss the nuances of this "taskforce" before you would make such a bold claim, Aldrecht!"
Her sudden bark when saying the King's name came to be a shock to the knights and Rangers.
"Very well. Captain Orwell, I shall leave the briefing to you." This was all King Aldrecht could say as he curtly turned on his feet and moved with his escorts to the rear exit.
With the crowd of knights slowly dissipating only a select few remained alongside the named Captain. Other than the knights wearing what looked to be standard issue armor and garbs, three seemed to come from more prestigious families as their armor held gems, or more regal colors such as velvet, red and gold.
Mike removed the magazine of his M-5and inspected it as Captain Orwell moved to the front of the group flanked by the more regal-looking knights. "Gentlemen." He began with a confidant tone, "I apologize for the king's sudden hostile actions, but it is imperative to know that "Reavers" are beings not to be trifled with." Orwell looked at the state of the Rangers and the Princess, leading him to let out a satisfied huff, "Though it appears that you are more than capable of standing against such otherworldly foes."
Stepping forward and reaching out his arm, Thompson nodded his head at his fellow captain. "Oliver Thompson; current commanding officer of the remaining members of Taskforce Spare."
Looking at the man's palm and seeing his intention, Orwell obliged and shook Thompson's hand.
"I don't know what you want to gain out of us." Thompson began stepping back with his hands returning to his rifle, "The least I can assure is that we will assist as an outside force rather than any force multiplier."
Standing and seemingly dazed, Mike stared through the next three hours of conversation. Troop organization, weapons development, research and development, training, and logistics were just some of the many topics brought up between conversations. From the bright lights in the Throne room to the dimly lit meeting room, the discussion had swapped rooms several times due to maids moving about their day.
Eventually the exchange ended. Gone was the stuffy air inside the castle, and instead the orange-yellow hue of the sun was painted over the bright blue skies over the kingdom. The Rangers had moved with the men to a training field nearby the castle. Green fields shifted in the wind as far below in a dust makeshift range, PFC Green presented the primary weapons system of the United States Armed Forces, the M-5 Carbine.
Gathered by a small table inspecting several of the internal pieces from the weapon, Green explained the parts to a small group of knights and curious royal guards that had forgone their patrol. All the men watched in awe and confusion as the Private First Class explained the purpose of the bolt under the sharp gaze of both Lieutenant Patterson and Sergeant Malkovich, who were in position to make sure none of the knights got any fancy ideas.
Crunching behind him, the sound of grass being pressed under the weight of a pair of boots garnered Mike's attention. Before the Sergeant could look over his shoulder to see who was approaching him, a bell-like voice came from behind, "So, may I ask your opinion on the knights you have spoken with?"
With a shadow being casted over him blocking out the late afternoon sun that was beaming down its godly rays onto the golden-green fields, Mike focused on the silver hair and loose clothing fluttering in the wind. Princess Lecca was hunched over above him resting her perfect hands on her skirt-covered knees.
Calming himself from making any brash actions, Mike spoke groggily as he moved his ungloved hand over his mouth to let out a yawn, "I'm not that… familiar with knights or swords. But it would help if junior knights were placed in leadership roles within eight-man squadrons. Would help organization of a combative force."
Interested in how the man she was standing over responded, Lecca gave some room between herself and Mike and sat next to him. She collected and brushed her hair clear of her right ear and shot an inquisitive look towards the Sergeant who was currently explaining the topic of force multipliers.
"Since it's quite obvious that me and the others don't know a damn thing about the world, our place as a force multiplier would be the most efficient way to use us." He said while catching the movement that Lecca performed. "If we act alongside a group of specially trained soldiers, I believe we Rangers can keep our identity."
"Identity?" Lecca parroted seeming lost in thought.
Looking at the woman next to him with a soft gaze, Mike found it hard to ask why she repeated the word "identity", yet his worries would mean nothing as a messenger quickly jogged to the both of them and shouted, "Princess Lecca! Holy Knight Randall! Holy Knight Orwell and Captain Orwell have called for the both of you!"
There was time to get another word in as the runner quickly removed himself from the equation. With one final yawn released, Mike rose from the ground and brushed off his pants before offering his hand to Lecca who was still sitting on the ground.
She became flustered if not for a single second before taking his hand and hoisting herself off the ground. The white skirt she was in fluttered in the wind alongside her silver hair as Mike let go of her hand and faced the opposite direction. Several blades of grass picked up in the wind, and Lecca held her hair in place as the Sergeant gave her a cheeky smile, "Lead the way?" He asked.
"Of course, Holy Knight." She said slyly as she stepped beyond the pouting Mike now behind her.