Her cerulean eyes shimmering like stars, her black hair at the level of her shoulders that's barely touching her pouldrons, and her way of fighting were her charms.
Fargil couldn't mistake the girl she had a crush on for the first time in a virtual game. He could have amnesia and he'd instantly remember Maqirelle, the girl that mostly became his inspiration to become the Top Support Player who could put him in danger for his allies' sake.
"Tell me your real name, Maqirelle... I've waited so long."
Fargil had no idea how many years he has stayed as a tree. Now that he thinks about it gazing at the capital across the river, Arasyal has its border rebuilt and the landscape of its surroundings is rather strange for him as if he's been out in the cold for a long time.
He's knowledgeable about battlefield navigation since he studied Alfahim's geography, both exterior and interior parts, from borders, towns, cities, and forest routes; he knows it all for he believed it could benefit him during actual combat when defending his home kingdom.
Arkmeria Conquer Online's gameplay consists of players conquering opposing nations.
With every match, the attacking nation should invade the defending nation within a time limit.
Should the attacking nation fail to capture or destroy the Sovereign Catalyst, the defending nation wins. Otherwise, the attacking nation wins and they get double points since they had to play against the defending nation's turf where they can set traps ahead or get ready early on.
Nevertheless, Fargil waited for the elven lady to tell her name, and just as he expected, not everything goes in her way.
"I'm sorry... Are you perhaps referring to my mother?" The elven lady's cerulean irises were exactly the spitting charm of Maqirelle's avatar. And more importantly, what she said opened up another possibility that Fargil simply can't ignore.
He held her shoulders tight, shocked by what she just told.
"Your mother?! What is the meaning of this..." Fargil widened his eyes. His countenance filled with unanswered questions as his shaking hands were loosening grip; afraid of the probable speculation circling around his head.
The elven lady was quite hesitant, though she's in no position to not tell the truth since he can't sense hostility coming from Fargil. She thoroughly can tell that Fargil's seeking the truth, which also confuses her.
Meanwhile, Akeela's slowly being swept in the currents, half of her waist's already submerged under the river, and her constant struggle while she squirms barely keeping her on the riverbank.
Plus, she's bitter she had to endure the strange situation as Fargil's on top of the maiden, his hands clinging to her shoulder looking like they were flirting in broad daylight.
[ What the hell's with these two creeps?! I'm about to drown and they are just enjoying themselves! And that guy's silver vines are quite strong... Even my MOD can't break it...]
Akeela speaks inside her head. The silver vines that Fargil enwrapped Akeela from were tough enough to withstand the Magictech Operation Device attached to her wrists.
MOD is a Zinonian specialized technology that enhances spells and allows the user to go beyond the physical limitation. In ACO, it's one of the Goldendusk Republic's static advantages during wars both in attacking and defending because its main function is quick-far range communication without getting affected by telepathic block spells.
Still, breaking Fargil's bindings is the least of her worry since it's a matter of time before the river totally snatches her away to the depths of the running water.
"It seems I can trust you, mister. My real name is Ranoa Cynthia Kilyn Maqirelle, the first and only Princess of Alfahim Kingdom."
And just the elven lady told her true identity, Fargil once again connected the dots of information that allowed him to draw concrete events about his reincarnation.
Taking the gist of the circumstances that led Fargil up to that moment, he ceased holding Ranoa and instead sat beside her on the grasses. His head and cognition were in a mess he didn't notice Akeela's barely hanging at the edge of the riverbank.
"Hey..." Fargil wanted to confirm one last thing so he can draw his judgment. "What year is it?"
He asked. Right before Fargil got reincarnated, he remembers the setting of Arkmeria Conquer Online was living in the year 420. The system adds 20 years to the world timeline every season of the ACO tournament.
This means during Fargil's last tournament before transmigration, Arkmeria's calendar is set in the year 420. In a clearer sense, asking Ranoa the current year clears away most of his questions.
"The year you say? It's year 620 in the Gregorian calendar." Ranoa honestly replied, wondering why he seeks an answer to common knowledge.
Hearing that the passage of time was different from what he knew, Fargil had his mouth agape.
The shocking reality shattering his heart from the inside out was a hard-to-shallow pill for him. Learning that the vertices are firmly established on the edges of the truth that he regrets too much. Everything playing out was already laid above the board for him to intake.
"For 200 years... I was asleep as a tree for 200 years?" Fargil whispered under his breath. Without prior notice, Fargil grabbed Ranoa's soft hand ready to leave the scene.
"Damn it! Take me to your mother. Where is she right now?!" Fargil lost his cool, eager to meet the one he was looking for in order to ascertain his speculations once and for all.
"Mother...? She's..." Ranoa meekly couldn't say aloud what she wants to convey. She's twiddling her fingers, hesitant for some unknown reason.
"Ah, the capital was on the verge of getting captured, isn't it? I don't ware about the war or anything else. Tell me where I can find your mother, and I eliminate everything else in our way." Fargil promised he is on Ranoa's side. He clenches his fists, the five silver rings in his fingers shimmered a faint, yet overpowering glint of light.
"Uhm... She's... What can I call you mister?" Ranoa asked, worried about how she would address the man she was going to lean her arms in the meantime.
"Oh, that's what you're concerned about? I'm sorry for the late introductions, I'm Fargil, a wandering spellcaster."
He scratches his head as he hides his embarrassment. Even in ACO, in-game names are hidden unless each player introduces themselves. Only then the name and status indicator above their head will pop out.
Regardless, Fargil chose to hide his real identity. He can't just go around and tell people he's an individual who came from another world.
Keeping his profile on the low was the best move for him, remembering that Akeela's still an enemy commander and it could be bad if she somehow relayed his information through the Magiech Operation Device.
"Fargil is it? My mother's at the royal palace northeast of this border beyond the Eternal River. And she's already..."
Ranoa ceased her words when she realize Fargil was no longer beside her. She panels her gaze somewhere down the river and found him diving in the stream.
In just a matter of seconds, Fargil emerged from the cold water, carrying Akeela right on his left shoulder, his left arm latching around her hips so she won't fall from attempting to break free by squirming incessantly.
"Hmmh...! Hmhmm!" Akeela's begging for Fargil to let her free.
[ How dare a lowly human touch me! Fargil... This bitch gets on my nerves! ]
Well, the peeved thoughts swarming in her mind tell a different reason.
There was no more humiliating for an honorable Zinonian Commander than getting hauled on someone's shoulder effortlessly. Akeela had no choice but to comply under Fargil's thumbs as long as the silver ivies are bound around her limbs.
"The royal palace then? We have no time to spare, we're penetrating the fortress walls and head straight to our destination!"
Declaring his intent loud and clear for them to hear, Fargil brought Akeela under his left arm still carrying her like luggage, and as for Ranoa, he touched the back of her waist, and a smooth-like fabric of vines wrapped approximately on her legs and chest.
"F-Fargil...? What are you planning to do?" Ranoa wishes she was mistaken, but she was actually right.
"Entrapped on my bounded form for countless years... I'd rather pay for my life than waste a second without knowing the truth! And as for her name... I still haven't... Forget it, we're gonna surpass the speed of the wind so hold on tight!"
With a new goal he set his mind on, Fargil held the ladies under his embrace and propelled himself in the cold breeze of the wind; leaping high under the cerulean skies of the Alfahim Kingdom, crossing the Eternal River and landing over behind the capital's fort.
However, what greeted Fargil wasn't the sweet scent of the bakery shop across the street, nor the enthralling merchants on their wagons crossing the flagstone pavement; what waved on Fargil's sight was the dancing flames over the house and the vast greenery of crowing trees.
Zinonian soldiers and Farasian holy knights and spellcasters were ravaging alleys and avenues, mercilessly killing the residential elves, faes, and even humans alike. They burn and sully the great kingdom of green, eradicating everything that still moves and shooting them twice or thrice assuring they are killed.
Desecrating the dead and even trampling on their wishes at their last breath, Alfahim's forces were being overwhelmed by the coordinated assault of the enemy squadrons.
On that day, it was only that day and moment did Fargil opened his eyes and realized one thing.
"Ah... This is no longer a game... People will die the moment they are killed. And no amount of magic will give them a second chance because respawn points do not exist in this reality."
Fargil muttered as he drowns in the screech of the innocent people dying for no reason. They are deprived of their lives, the wails and tears they shed right before they die were the last reminders they are alive.
It was then Fargil remembered the reason why he became the Top Support Player; he remembered the very reason why he chose the role and class to protect others despite his endeavors will not bring him any merit, forging a path alone and keeping his allies safe, and most importantly, his home kingdom.
"My past is a thing, sure... But do I really need a reason to not help someone?! And what more if they are now real? I will make them pay... I will not let them sully my kingdom again!"
A bursting of ether gathers around Fargil, the five rings stuck in his fingers illuminated like the primordial stars from the heavens, thus, revealing the extent of his true power because he's going all out.
Now, Fargil brought the burden of the kingdom over his back.
No one can stop, even death, other than himself.
"Limit Bracelet turning off... Ring of Deception; deactivate!"