Shelly's expression turned grave, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and urgency. "Madam, this is not a personal matter. It concerns an S-Rank danger," she revealed, the weight of her words settling heavily upon the room.
Marinda's annoyance dissipated, her eyes widening with surprise. She set aside her work, her attention fully captured. "An S-Rank danger? Do you even comprehend the magnitude of such a classification?" she questioned, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Shelly approached Marinda, extending the tablet. "Madam, please take a look," she urged, her voice conveying the gravity of the situation.
Marinda's face grew increasingly somber as she perused the contents of the tablet. Four simple words escaped her lips, laden with concern, "How much time remains?"
Shelly's voice held a sense of urgency as she answered, "Approximately 20 hours, Madam."
Marinda's mind raced, her thoughts consumed by the looming catastrophe. "Damn, less than a day...," she muttered, her voice filled with determination. Her eyes turned steely, her gaze fixed on the raindrops cascading down the windowpane.
"What unfolds in our kingdom?" Marinda questioned, her voice a whisper carried away by the pitter-patter of rain.
Shelly hesitated for a moment, her eyes filled with concern. "Madam, should I recall all the young Madams as well?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of apprehension and resolve.
Marinda's expression hardened, her eyes blazing with determination. "Yes, and contact the Elf Kingdom as well. It's time for them to honor the debt they owe us," she declared, her voice laced with authority.
"What does this storm brings with it?" she murmured, her voice barely audible, lost amidst the rain's gentle melody.n-.π--π/)π’.(π//π/)I()n
House of the Dragon Flames...
"Sir, it's an emergency." The door of the family leader's room burst open as a knight rushed in, his breath heavy and face filled with urgency.
Bolge, in the midst of his rigorous sword training, swiftly turned towards the knight, his sword raised, and a deadly serious expression etched on his face.
"You'd better give me a damn good reason to spare your pathetic life, or forget about walking out of here alive," Bolge spoke, his voice laced with a chilling authority.
"M-My lord, an S-Rank danger is approaching the royal capital. The elders of the house are waiting for you in the meeting room. Sir Griffith ordered me to call you immediately. Please, spare me," the knight pleaded, his voice quivering.
Bolge's intense gaze never wavered as he slowly lowered his sword, sensing the gravity of the situation.
"What is your name again?" Bolge asked, his voice demanding respect.
"I am John, Sir," the knight replied, his voice filled with both fear and reverence.
"John, you have shown bravery today. Now tell me, where is the third knight captain?" Bolge inquired, his voice carrying a sense of purpose.
"Sir, Lady Silk has been missing since yesterday evening. We have launched a search, but so far, we have found no trace of her," John answered, his voice tinged with concern.
"Good, John. Stand up," Bolge commanded, his tone unwavering.
John rose to his feet, his gaze meeting Bolge's unwavering stare, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in his eyes.
"John, from this moment forward, you are the new third knight captain," Bolge declared with conviction.
"Y-Yes, sir?" John stammered, clearly taken aback by the sudden promotion.
"Yes, unless you have any objections. Speak now, or gather the knights of your platoon," Bolge stated firmly, his voice brooking no dissent.
"But, sir, who would listen to a knight like me?" John questioned, his voice laced with self-doubt.
"Consider this your promotion," Bolge said, his hand igniting in flames. From the flames, he produced a badge adorned with a fearsome dragon emblem.
With a swift motion, Bolge tossed the badge to John, who caught it in awe.I think you should take a look at
"Do you have any further questions, Third Knight Captain?" Bolge asked, his voice resonating with authority.
"Huh...? N-No, sir," John replied, a mixture of astonishment and gratitude evident in his voice.
"Then go and gather your platoon," Bolge's voice boomed, commanding respect like that of a seasoned army general.
"Y-Yes, Sir," John replied, his voice filled with newfound determination as he promptly left the room.
"Where are you, Silk? You chose the worst possible time to vanish. First, Anon disappears, and now you. What a mess," Bolge muttered to himself as he finished dressing and made his way towards the meeting room.
As Bolge entered the meeting room, he was greeted by a round table filled with elder members of the house, their eyes fixed upon a massive screen displaying millions of undead creatures marching relentlessly towards the royal capital from the depths of the nightmare forest.
"Greetings, grandpas. What is the situation?" Bolge inquired, his voice filled with both curiosity and authority, as he walked in and took a seat in the largest chair in the room.
"An S-Rank Danger is approaching the royal capital," Griffith, an elderly man in his seventies, responded, his voice resonating with experience and wisdom.
"Well, can we annihilate them or not?" Bolge asked bluntly, his gaze fixed on the screen.
"No, these creatures are mindless zombies, devoid of emotions or senses. They feel no fear, no anger, and no pain," a bespectacled man stood up, his voice conveying a sense of concern.
"You call that an S-Rank danger? They are simply mindless vegetables walking towards us. Just cut them into a thousand pieces, and they won't be able to fight back, right? They lack a mind, after all," Bolge scoffed, his expression carefree and confident.
Griffith exchanged a knowing glance with the others before speaking. "Show him."
"Yes, sir," the bespectacled man responded, playing another video on the screen.
The video displayed a zombie slowly approaching an eight-legged arcane spider, its relentless pace undeterred by the spider's presence.
"Is that an eight-legged arcane spider? I've hunted a few before. Their armor is remarkably sturdy, and their legs sharper than any sword," Bolge remarked, his eyes focused on the screen.
"Their body parts are used to craft the strongest armor in the kingdom, sir," the bespectacled man confirmed, his voice carrying a note of caution.
As the video continued, the zombie closed in on the arcane spider, its unyielding determination evident.
In a defensive move, the spider lunged, its sharp legs striking the zombie's body with full force.
To everyone's astonishment, upon contact, the spider's legs shattered into fragments, like glass hitting a stone wall.
Bolge's eyes widened in both surprise and realization, a newfound respect for the undead threat growing within him.
"What was that?" Bolge asked, his voice filled with a mix of astonishment and intrigue.
"That's not all, sir. Please, continue watching," Griffith spoke, his voice carrying a sense of urgency.
As the video progressed, the arcane spider, recognizing the danger posed by the zombie, attempted to retreat, darting away with impressive speed.
Yet, to everyone's shock, the zombie seized the spider's leg, wrenching it back with a strength that defied its undead nature.
With a savage hunger, the zombie sank its teeth into the spider's thick, resilient exoskeleton, its determination unyielding.
The room fell silent, the observers witnessing the grotesque scene unfold before their eyes.
"What the hell is that?" Bolge exclaimed, a mixture of disbelief and newfound respect in his voice, as the realization of the threat dawned upon him.Β
"Prepare the soldiers and equip them with the finest armor. I don't think this war will be ending soon. Send the alliance papers to every household," Bolge commanded.
"Yes, sir," an elderly man rose from his chair and left the room. He wore the armor of a knight and proudly displayed a dragon badge on his chest.
This man was none other than the Second Knight Captain of the Dragon House, known for his unwavering loyalty and unwavering dedication to the cause.
"I shall retrieve my royal armor. The rest of you, prepare yourselves as well. We are going into battle. If anyone objects to my decision, speak now or fight for me," Bolge declared, his voice resonating with authority. He stood up, emanating a threatening aura that sent shivers down the spines of those present.
In an instant, a man wearing glasses attempted to raise his hand, but Griffith, Bolge's trusted lieutenant, swiftly intervened, grabbing his hand to prevent him.
"What do you think you're doing, glasses?" Griffith inquired, his eyes narrowing.
"S-Sir, fighting them is absurd. We will lose. This war is impossible to win. I am objecting to the leader's decision because he said anyone could object if they wanted," the bespectacled man expressed his concerns, his voice trembling.
"Oh...? And what do you think he will do when you object to his decision?" Griffith retorted, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and warning.
"L-Listen to my idea of retreat...?" the man with glasses stammered, his confidence waning.
Griffith sighed deeply, contemplating the man's words. He understood the fear and doubt that clouded the room. The odds were stacked against them, and the enemy they faced was formidable. But retreating now would only spell their doom.
"How long have you been with the house?" Griffith asked, his voice taking on a somber tone.
"Only five days, sir..." the man with glasses admitted, his voice lacking conviction.
"That's why you don't understand. If you mention the word 'retreat' in front of him, he will dig your grave before killing you. Now, silence yourself before your blood stains this floor," Griffith warned firmly, his grip on the man's hand tightening.
The room fell into an uneasy silence. The truth in Griffith's words lingered, weighing heavily on their minds. They knew that Bolge, their leader, was a force to be reckoned with, his unwavering determination matching the strength of his sword arm.
"In other words, it's fight or die," Griffith asserted, releasing the man's hand.
"Very well, I shall take my leave now," Bolge announced, his piercing gaze scanning the hall, ensuring that no objections were voiced.
Bolge exited through the gate, and the tension in the room began to dissipate, albeit slightly. The remaining members of the group exchanged nervous glances, their hearts heavy with the weight of the impending battle.
"I understand that what has transpired is unfortunate, and some of you may consider fleeing today. I do not know who you are, nor do I care to know. I will step outside for a smoke, and for those who wish to leave, simply exit the room and vacate the mansion within the hour. If you are found inside this mansion one hour from now, no one will be more dangerous than me. Now, ladies and gentlemen, take your time," Griffith spoke, his voice filled with a mixture of resignation and determination.
With that, he rose from his chair, leaving the room, cigar in hand. Griffith stood before a large glass window, gazing outside as he lit the cigar and began to smoke. His thoughts were consumed by the gravity of the situation.I think you should take a look at
"What is happening within this damn kingdom? First, the invasion of the Ogres into the seventh ring, and now these undead creatures. Is this all mere coincidence, or is someone orchestrating it?" Griffith mused sadly, his smile tainted with sorrow.
Suddenly, the man with the glasses approached Griffith from behind, his footsteps hesitant.
"S-Sir Griffith, I am sorry, but-" the man began, his voice wavering.
Before he could utter another word, Griffith raised his hand, gesturing for him to stop. The message was clear - his words were unnecessary.
"Just leave if you want to. Spare me the excuses," Griffith commanded, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
The man nodded, his face filled with a mixture of relief and disappointment. He understood that further conversation would be futile. With a heavy heart, he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.
After smoking the entire cigar, Griffith reentered the room, the lingering scent of tobacco clinging to his clothes. He surveyed the scene, noting that five individuals had already left.
"Well, it seems we had some cowards among us, huh?" Griffith remarked, his smile faintly visible amidst the somber atmosphere.
"Madam Aven, too, huh...?" Griffith's tone turned melancholic as he glanced at one of the vacant seats, memories of battles fought side by side flooding his mind.
"Don't be foolish, Griffith. We went to retrieve our royal weapons. Do you really think we would leave like cowards?" a woman with purple hair and purple eyes entered the room, her voice filled with determination. She wielded two swords, one in each hand, a testament to her skill and readiness for battle.
Three more elderly men followed her into the room, their faces etched with wrinkles that told tales of past wars and countless victories. They exchanged knowing glances with Griffith, their eyes conveying a silent camaraderie.
"You old bastards dared to play tricks on me. If I survive tomorrow, I will surely have my revenge," Griffith remarked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he playfully taunted his comrades.
"We should begin strategizing now," one of the elderly men suggested, his voice filled with authority born of experience.
"Indeed. Please share your thoughts on what we can do in this situation," Griffith invited, his gaze shifting from one seasoned warrior to another.
"Sir, may i come in ?" The guy wearing glasses spoke.
"Hmmm...? You are back too huh ?" Griffith asked with a smile.
"Sir, what is the benefit of running ? If the kingdom that i pledged to serve doesn't remains."
Denver House of Justice...
Great Mother's Room...
"Where is my baby son, Ren?" the Great Mother demanded, her grip tightening on the collar of one of the knights.
"G-Great Mother, we just received a message from Master Ren. It reads, 'I will be away for a week. Do not attempt to contact me or search for me. I will return in one week or possibly sooner. Love, Mother,'" the knight relayed, his voice laced with concern for the Great Mother's well-being.
"Oh, my baby. What are you doing out in the wilderness? There are too many monsters outside," the Great Mother lamented, her face filled with a mix of maternal love and worry.
"Great Mother, the soldiers are prepared," a knight reported as he entered the room, bowing respectfully.
"Very well. May the gods be with us," the Great Mother said with a hint of determination, her voice carrying the weight of responsibility.
The illustrious Great Mother, a beacon of purity and authority, draped herself in a resplendent robe that exuded pristine whiteness from its top to its flowing hem. Adorned with a prominent cross at its center, the fabric was so delicately thin that it hinted at the curves of her ample bosom, accentuating her every contour with a subtle allure. As she led the procession, her regal figure captivated the knights who accompanied her, their eyes unable to resist stealing glances filled with desire and longing.
Engrossed in their own private conversation, two knights exchanged hushed words in their attempt to decipher the Great Mother's status. "Yo, do you think the Great Mother is still a virgin?" one of the knights quizzically posed to his companion.
With a scoff of disbelief, the other knight swiftly retorted, "You daft fool! How do you think Master Ren came into this world? Clearly, she is not."
Realizing the folly of his question, the first knight sought clarification, "Ah, I see. But have you ever seen his father?"
"Alas, his father met a valiant end on the battlefield, my friend," the second knight solemnly revealed, hoping to put an end to the line of inquiry.
Nonetheless, the first knight, seemingly unable to resist the temptation, continued, "True, but her allure and captivating curves are still undeniable."
"Indeed, they are. If granted just a single night alone with the Great Mother, I would willingly devote my life to prayers," the second knight mused, caught in a daydream of desire.
However, their conversation came to an abrupt halt as a female knight, walking silently behind them, interjected. "Oi, there's a lady right behind you. Can you not speak with such indiscretion?"
Taken aback by her presence, the first knight blurted out, "You are a lady?"
With a tone of exasperation, the female knight responded, "Of course, what kind of question is that?"
The first knight, undeterred, attempted to make a lighthearted observation, pointing at her chest, "Well, I don't see any breasts here, only a plain landscape. I daresay you possess the visage of a girl but the physique of a boy."I think you should take a look at
Chuckling in agreement, the second knight joined in, "He's got a point."
Seething with anger, the female knight, Olivia, unleashed a swift reprimand, "You insolent fools..."
Thwack Thwack
Before Olivia could utter another word, the Great Mother, aware of the disturbance, turned back to face the three knights. Her gaze penetrated their very souls as she inquired, "Is something the matter?"
Witnessing the Great Mother's piercing gaze, the two knights hurriedly adjusted their helmets, attempting to regain composure. "Everything is in order, Great Mother. Please proceed," Olivia reassured, her voice now steady and respectful.
Without a word, the Great Mother resumed her steady march toward the grand hall, ascending the stage with a regal grace. As her presence filled the room, every knight in attendance, numbering over ten thousand, knelt in unison, their armor resplendent in polished silver plates, each cape bearing a bold, symbolic cross.
In response to the Great Mother's arrival, the hall seemed to tremble momentarily, the collective weight of their devotion manifesting in a tangible shudder. As she commanded them to rise, the knights obeyed, standing tall and resolute, their unwavering dedication evident.
"Stand up all of you."
Addressing her loyal knights, the Great Mother's voice thundered with unwavering determination, "You, my elite knights of House Denver, have remained faithful to God, and He has protected your families from harm until this day. But now, He calls upon me to safeguard His sacred domain from the unholy creatures that approach from the depths of the Nightmare Forest."
With each word, her voice resonated with fervor and righteousness, carrying a resolute determination that stirred the hearts of all who listened. "Shall I answer God's call? Shall I vow that we shall fight until the bitter end, protecting His home without a single falter? Shall I declare, in my name, that no knight shall fall until every last abomination is vanquished?"
A resounding affirmation echoed through the hall, as each knight drew their swords and pointed them upward, their voices raised in unison, "Yes, ma'am!"
The very foundations of the chamber seemed to tremble as the knights declared their unwavering commitment to the Creator, their collective battle cry reverberating with an otherworldly power. The Great Mother, eyes ablaze with fervor, repeated her command, seeking an even greater response, "I cannot hear you, soldiers! Are you prepared to serve the Creator? Or will you perish in vain?"
The chamber erupted in an overwhelming roar, a proclamation of unyielding loyalty. "WE WILL SERVE THE GOD, MA'AM!"
A surge of energy coursed through the hall, tangible vibrations causing the very walls to tremble. The Great Mother acknowledged their unwavering commitment with a serene smile as she raised her hand and a bright light came out of it. "May the gods bestow their blessings upon each and every one of you."
In the midst of the fervor, two knights who had been part of the Great Mother's escort party whispered their disapproval. "And that, my friends, is how you brainwash unwavering loyalty in thousands of soldiers, even without qny reason," one knight remarked sarcastically.
His companion chimed in, "Indeed, a simple spell called 'Light' can have such a profound effect, masquerading as divine blessing."
Their words were cut short as Olivia swiftly intervened, striking both knights on their heads with her gauntlet-clad hand, ensuring their silence and respect.
Within the House of the Alchemists...
A man sat on his imposing throne, with men and women bowing before him in a grand hall. The room buzzed with anticipation as the air grew thick with a sense of urgency.
"House leader, you summoned us?" One of the young men spoke, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and determination.
"Yes, an S-rank danger approaches us. All seven houses have formed an alliance, and we are tasked with crafting potions for the soldiers who will fight in the upcoming battle. Though we may lack conventional combat skills, as potion and medicine crafters, we possess the ability to defend ourselves, do we not?" The family leader spoke, his voice resonating with authority.
"Yes, Sir!" All the alchemists chorused, their voices brimming with confidence.
"Now, those who wish to participate in the fight, please proceed to that room. Those who choose to support the other six families by making potions, go to the other room. I harbor no ill will toward those who opt for potion-making; I appreciate your support for the house. Make your choice." The leader commanded, his gaze sweeping across the room.
Immediately, the numbers split down the middle as some chose to create potions, while others elected to join the battle. Determination etched on their faces, they moved with purpose, their steps filled with resolve.
"Good. Those who will create potions may commence their work, and those who will fight, come with me." The leader declared, rising from his throne and leading the way towards the other room. The alchemists who had chosen to fight followed him, their footsteps echoing with a sense of unity and bravery.
The family leader shed his coat, and all the family members who joined him in combat took their seats on wooden chairs. The room became a chamber of strategy, a crucible of war.
He unveiled a large blackboard, previously concealed by a cloth, revealing intricate drawings that showcased the upcoming battlefield. Symbols denoting undead forces clashed with those representing the Kingdom's troops, while smaller circles designated the teams.
"Ladies and gentlemen, you have chosen to fight. I do not need to know your motivations, be it to project toughness or a desire for more excitement than making potions for others. What matters is that we are here together. Our house, known for generations of alchemy, has supplied potions to adventurers. But today, in this imminent war, we will not act solely as alchemists. We shall demonstrate our worth and prove that we too can fight. We are not mere alchemists at the beck and call of others' orders. Do you agree with me?" The family leader asked, his voice filled with determination.
"Yes, Sir!" they all answered in unison, their voices resounding with conviction.
"Good. Now, let us discuss the strategy we will deploy in the upcoming battle." The leader proceeded to explain the intricate details of the battle plan, his words instilling a sense of purpose and confidence in the hearts of his comrades.
Meanwhile, at the Martial House...
"Sir, please take a look at this." Helix spoke, his voice filled with urgency, as he handed a screen to the leader of the Martial House. The screen displayed an ominous image of the Nightmare Forest, where the looming danger awaited.
"Yes, I know, Helix. I have already received the alliance policy paperwork from all the houses. Your efficiency in these matters seems to be declining." The family leader spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement as he signed the alliance papers.
"I apologize for my incompetence, sir," Helix responded, his voice laced with a mix of remorse and determination.
"No problem." The family leader reassured him, his voice calm and composed.
"I will immediately inform Madam Luna about this, sir." Helix began to depart, his steps quickening as he prepared to relay the urgent information.I think you should take a look at
"She knows. She was the one who handed me the alliance papers." The family leader informed him, his voice filled with confidence.
"Ah, is that so." Helix stopped in his tracks, a look of surprise crossing his face. He realized that the pieces were already in motion, orchestrated by their formidable leader.
"Then, should I prepare the soldiers, sir?" Helix asked, his voice respectful as he sought guidance.
"Noβ" before the family leader could continue, the doors to his room swung open, and a werewolf girl wearing a knight's armor entered, her presence commanding attention.
"Father, I'm here." She announced, her voice laced with a sense of determination and loyalty, as she bowed before her leader.
This girl was none other than Luna herself, a warrior of remarkable skill and unwavering resolve.
Helix looked on, perplexed. He was the commander of the Martial House's army, and after him, it was expected that the family leader's first son would assume that position. But now, the second daughter of the house stood before them, donning the armor of the Head Knight Captain. The unexpected turn of events left Helix momentarily speechless.
"Sir, that isβ" Helix began to speak, his voice filled with curiosity and confusion, but the family leader interrupted him, his voice commanding attention.
"Helix, meet your new Knight Captain, Luna Warwood." The family leader introduced her with a sense of pride and admiration, his voice reflecting his unwavering confidence.
"Hello, Uncle Helix." Luna greeted him with a warm smile, her voice filled with a sense of camaraderie and respect.
"H-Hello, Madam Luna." Helix responded, his voice reflecting a mix of surprise and respect, as he struggled to comprehend the new dynamics unfolding before him.
"Your sound doesn't sound good, Helix. Is something amiss? Are you unhappy that Luna has become the Knight Captain?" The family leader inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern.
"No, sir. That's not it. I simply thought that Master 'Alex' would be the next Chief Captain after me." Helix clarified, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and uncertainty.
"You are right, he will be the next captain, but he is far from home now and cannot return swiftly. That's why I have assigned this position to Luna for the time being, and your task is to assist her. Instruct her in the basics of the battlefield and familiarize her with the enemy we are about to face." The family leader explained, his voice emanating authority and wisdom.
"Yes, sir. As you wish. Please accompany me, Madam Luna." Helix spoke, his voice filled with a newfound determination and commitment. He understood the weight of his responsibility and embraced it with unwavering loyalty.
Together, they ventured out of the room, a united front in the face of impending danger. As they walked side by side, Helix imparted his knowledge, sharing the intricacies of the battlefield and the tactics necessary to emerge victorious. Luna listened attentively, her eyes gleaming with determination and a thirst for knowledge.
Meanwhile, the family leader pondered the state of the kingdom, his mind filled with a mix of concern and determination. "What will become of this kingdom? If I am right, the king must have sent out a call for assistance to other continents by now. Let us see whether they will answer our plea for aid," he mused, his voice tinged with a blend of hope and caution.
Returning to his paperwork, he resumed his tasks with unwavering focus and resolve, occasionally pausing to take a puff of his cigar, as he fortified himself for the challenges that lay ahead. In the face of adversity, he stood as the beacon of strength, guiding his house and his allies towards a brighter future.