Chapter 103:
In the heart of the city, faint wisps of smoke still curled into the air, rising from the areas scarred by the chaos of the night before. Above the sprawling metropolis stood a towering and ornate castle, its design breathtakingly intricate, a masterpiece of baroque architecture. Several smaller floating isles orbited the castle, connected by shimmering golden bridges, glowing faintly in the night.
Inside the grand castle, a knight sat at a heavy oak desk in a room filled with scrolls, books, and maps. The man, Sire Godefroy, wore his armor only partially, a polished breastplate and armguards remained, though his helmet was set aside on the desk. His dark eyes betrayed the weariness that weighed upon him. His quill scratched against parchment, his hand steady despite his exhaustion, as he finished drafting an official report.
A sudden knock echoed through the chamber door, breaking the silence.
"Enter," Godefroy said, his voice gravelly with fatigue.
The door opened slightly, and a herald's voice rang through. "Sire Godefroy, His Majesty has summoned you to the throne room. It is urgent."
Godefroy set the quill down and leaned back in his chair, massaging his temples. The events of the previous night had taken their toll, strange invaders, unforeseen casualties, and the shame of losing ground to what seemed like an unstoppable force.
"I'm coming," he said, standing with a groan.
He grabbed his helmet, tucking it under his arm, and straightened his posture. The faint creak of his armor followed him as he left the room, closing the door behind him.
The herald bowed briefly before leading Godefroy down the long hallways of the castle. The air grew heavier as they approached the throne room, and though Godefroy's face remained stoic, his thoughts were turbulent.
"What could His Majesty want now?" he muttered under his breath. "Is it not enough that we've already bled for this city?"
He pushed the thought aside, knowing better than to let his frustrations show before the king. As the herald opened the massive doors to the throne room, the light of the golden chandeliers inside spilled into the corridor, illuminating Godefroy's tired face as he stepped forward.
The grand doors to the throne room swung open with a low, resonant creak, revealing an awe-inspiring sight. The room was vast, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and decorations of gold and white. The gilded surfaces reflected the light of the massive crystal chandeliers, casting a warm, almost divine glow. Columns lined the edges of the room, each inscribed with runes that seemed to pulse faintly with arcane energy.
A luxurious red carpet stretched from the entrance to the foot of a massive dais, flanked by golden railings. The carpet cut through the assembly of nobles who stood on either side, their silk-clad forms exuding wealth and power. Their faces were a mixture of disdain and intrigue as their whispers filled the hall like a low, simmering wave.
"The commander's here…"
"Look at him, dragging his feet after such a disgrace…"
"How will he explain himself to the king?"
At the far end of the room, seated atop an ornate white and gold throne, was King Adrian V, his presence radiating authority. His crown shimmered with countless gems, and his flowing robes of white and gold added to his imposing figure. Despite his regal appearance, his expression was twisted with rage, his piercing eyes fixed on the kneeling knight.
Sire Godefroy stepped forward with measured precision, his armor clinking softly. He stopped just before the dais, the weight of the nobles' judgment pressing against him from all sides. Ignoring their murmurs, he knelt on one knee, lowering his head.
"The Commander Godefroy of the Winged Cavaliers reports to His Majesty," he declared, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.
The whispers fell silent as the king leaned forward on his throne, his gaze sharp enough to cut steel. His anger was palpable, filling the room like a storm waiting to break.
"Commander Godefroy," the king began, his tone cold and controlled but laced with fury. "How is it that these impure Terrans, a blight upon our sacred lands, managed to set their filthy feet upon Guérin, our holy capital?"
His voice rose, each word dripping with disdain. "How did they destroy our buildings, kill multiple teams from the Order of Void Guardians, and even slay some of the Winged Cavaliers? And worse…" He leaned further forward, his face now a mask of fury. "How did these intruders manage to escape our grasp?"
The nobles held their breath, waiting for Godefroy's response. The silence in the hall was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of magical torches lining the walls. Godefroy remained kneeling, the weight of the king's rage pressing down on him as he prepared to answer.
The king's fiery gaze bore into Godefroy, his patience clearly strained. The murmurs of the nobles once again filled the room, their disapproval evident. Godefroy inhaled deeply, steadying himself before speaking.
"Your Majesty," Godefroy began, his voice steady but solemn. "We had launched a reconnaissance mission in preparation for our planned invasion of Earth. Our forces moved carefully to ensure minimal disruption, but, " his voice tightened slightly, ", once again, the Terrans, as described in ancient legends, used their cunning to exploit the opportunity. They managed to send a group of warriors aboard one of their iron birds through the dimensional breach to invade Univer'Isle."
Gasps rippled through the nobles at the mention of Earth's fighters.
"By the time we arrived to apprehend them," Godefroy continued, his tone laced with frustration, "these cowards had already begun their assault. They slaughtered many of our brave citizens and guards, destroying several buildings in their rampage. But when faced with the might of our forces, they fled like the cowards they are, unable to withstand our power."
King Adrian V leaned back slightly, his expression hard, yet curious.
"And their iron bird?" the king asked sharply.
Godefroy nodded grimly. "Their iron bird is formidable, Your Majesty. A marvel of destructive power. About a quarter of an hour later, as our team returned to the dimensional breach, we encountered smaller but far more dangerous and faster versions of their iron birds. They attacked with some kind of explosive light lances, highly destructive and precise. Our forces were caught off guard by their speed and ferocity."
The nobles murmured louder now, some with fear, others with indignation.
"Faced with such overwhelming firepower, and to avoid greater losses, I ordered a retreat and ensured the dimensional breach was sealed to prevent further incursions." Godefroy bowed his head lower. "For this, I accept full responsibility."
The room fell silent once more, the nobles watching intently for the king's reaction. The weight of the Winged Cavalier commander's confession hung heavily in the air, a stark reminder of the Terrans' cunning and resilience.
King Adrian V sat motionless for a moment, his eyes locked on Godefroy, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he rose from his throne, his regal presence commanding absolute silence in the hall.
The grand hall fell silent as King Adrian V's voice thundered through the room, cold and resolute.
"Godefroy," he declared, his tone unyielding. "Your actions last night brought chaos and destruction to the capital. Under normal circumstances, I would strip you of your title and condemn you and your family to the Labyrinth of Shadows for eternal torment and suffering. But I will grant you a single chance."
The nobles murmured in astonishment, their whispers filling the gilded hall like a wave. Godefroy remained kneeling, his head bowed, his fists clenched tightly.
"Capture and bring these impure beings to me, dead or alive," the king continued. "Succeed, and you shall be hailed as the first hero of the millennium, the one who purged this filth from our sacred lands. Fail me, and you shall become the greatest sinner in the history of our kingdom, doomed to a life of unimaginable suffering."
Godefroy's mind raced. His thoughts turned to his wife and two daughters, their innocent smiles flashing before his eyes. He clenched his fist harder, determination surging through him.
"My king," Godefroy said, his voice filled with resolve. "I will find these heretics and eradicate them."
With that, he rose, his armor clinking softly as he stood tall, and exited the throne room. The nobles watched in silence, their expressions a mix of disdain and intrigue.
As Godefroy stepped into the corridor, his mind set on his mission, a shadowed figure emerged from the dim light of an alcove. Cloaked in a dark hood, their face obscured, the figure spoke in a low, measured tone.
"Commander Godefroy," the figure said, their voice laced with an unsettling calm. "A moment of your time."
Godefroy pivoted sharply toward the cloaked figure, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the shadowy emissary. His voice was curt, tinged with irritation and suspicion.
"What do you want from me?"
The figure inclined their head slightly, their movements deliberate and composed.
"Commander Godefroy," they began, their voice carrying a somber weight. "I am a messenger from the Church. I bring word that the Church will deploy knights from the Order of the Ether Chanter and several Void Hounds to aid you in your mission to track these impure beings."
Godefroy's brow furrowed slightly, the mention of the Void Hounds sending a shiver of unease through him.
The messenger continued, their tone unwavering. "The High Priest himself is deeply dissatisfied with their defilement of our sacred lands. He considers this not just a transgression against the kingdom but a blasphemy against the divine. You are urged, no, commanded, to locate these heretics without delay."
Godefroy's jaw tightened as the weight of the situation pressed down further on his already burdened shoulders.
"I do not need the Church's intervention," he said sharply, his pride prickling. "My knights and I are fully capable of handling this."
The figure's tone darkened, a subtle edge of warning slipping into their voice.
"This is not a matter of pride, Commander," they countered. "It is a matter of duty to both crown and divinity. The Void Hounds and Ether Chanters will serve as instruments of the divine will. Their assistance is not optional."
Godefroy took a steadying breath, knowing resistance would only complicate matters further. He inclined his head slightly, suppressing his frustration.
"Very well," he said, his tone measured. "But ensure that they follow my orders on the battlefield. I will not have chaos among my ranks."
The messenger nodded. "As you wish, Commander. They will arrive within the hour. The High Priest expects results."
With that, the figure stepped back into the shadows, their form melting into the dim light of the corridor, leaving Godefroy alone with his thoughts and the heavy burden of his task.
---
The morning light spread across the horizon as Léonard stirred awake, blinking groggily. He lifted his gaze to the sky, noting its rich blue hue, eerily similar to Earth's, dotted with a few wispy clouds. Yet, there was no sun in sight, only an ambient glow.
Scanning his surroundings, he noticed a few members of Resh-1 keeping watch, their eyes scanning the trees with vigilance. As he let out a wide yawn, the guards turned toward him.
"Good morning, boss," one of them said with a faint smile.
"Good morning to you as well," Léonard replied, his voice hoarse from sleep. Stretching his arms, he rose to his feet and glanced around the small clearing. He quickly noticed the absence of several operators and furrowed his brow.
"Where are the others?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
One of the guards nodded toward the woods. "They headed out earlier, boss. Recon and provisions run. We're low on food and water, so they're scouting for supplies."
Léonard nodded, the explanation settling his unease. He reached out mentally to access the system, summoning the map in his mind's eye. The once-obscured forest was now partially revealed, a good portion cleared of its shrouding fog. Several blue dots marked the positions of his missing operatives, slowly converging back toward his location.
At the map's edge, near the forest's boundary, Léonard spotted a small settlement icon marked with basic details: a village nestled along the edge of the trees. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied the map.
"A village," he murmured to himself. "That might be worth investigating… if it's friendly."
He dismissed the map and turned to the guards. "When they get back, have them report immediately. We might have our next destination."
The guards exchanged glances but nodded. "Understood, boss."
Léonard leaned against a nearby tree, the lingering exhaustion of the previous day weighing on him.
The reconnaissance team returned swiftly, emerging from the dense forest with decisive strides. Two of the operatives carried the carcass of an enormous boar-like creature, its grotesque size and features instantly drawing attention. Its pointed horns, triple the height of any earthly counterpart, gleamed dully in the ambient light.
One of the operators set his rifle aside and gestured toward the creature with his thumb. "The forest's relatively secure, boss. There are a few wild beasts and some completely unfamiliar flora, save for certain trees that resemble ones we know. Then, there's this thing," he said, nodding at the monstrous boar.
"It came at us fast, but we managed to take it down without much trouble. Figured it could be useful as food."
Léonard's gaze flicked over the creature, assessing its potential while filing away the threat it posed. "Anything else?"
The operator straightened and continued his report. "To the southeast of the forest, near the river, we spotted a group of houses. Likely a village."
Léonard's expression sharpened. "Did you see any signs of weapons?"
The operator shook his head. "Negative. At least, nothing I could observe from the distance we maintained."
Léonard crossed his arms, his mind already turning over the implications. "Good. Then our next destination is clear. We need information, and they'll have it."
The group nodded silently, understanding the unspoken command. With the forest mapped and their reconnaissance confirming a possible lead, their path forward began to take shape.
Léonard stood up, his resolve firm, but as he moved to take a step forward, a loud, unmistakable growl emanated from his stomach. The sound echoed in the otherwise quiet forest, drawing the attention of every operative nearby.
The group exchanged amused glances while Léonard, visibly embarrassed, rubbed the back of his neck and said with a sheepish smile, "Let's eat first."
The operatives immediately set to work. Two of them began skinning the massive boar-like creature with practiced efficiency, their knives flashing as they worked to separate the hide from the meat. Another gathered dry wood and kindling from the forest, quickly assembling a makeshift fire pit.
One of the reconnaissance members, clearly skilled in survival tactics, constructed a simple spit to roast the meat over the flames. Soon, the fire was crackling, the smell of sizzling fat and cooking meat filling the air.
Léonard watched as the team worked with precision. Some maintained their watchful vigilance, weapons ready in case the smell attracted unwelcome guests.
The boar's meat turned a rich, golden brown, glistening as juices dripped into the flames below, hissing softly. When the first piece was cut and passed to Léonard, he eagerly bit into it.
The flavor exploded in his mouth, a mix of savory richness and the faint wildness of the creature itself. The seasoning complemented the meat perfectly, a testament to the operatives' resourcefulness. He couldn't help but let out a satisfied hum as he chewed.
"This… this is incredible," Léonard said between bites, his usual composure melting under the sheer joy of a good meal.
The operatives grinned at their leader's reaction, taking their own portions and digging in. For a brief moment, amidst the hardships of their situation, the group shared a rare, comforting camaraderie, savoring the victory of a successful hunt and the warm meal it brought.
The group rose to their feet, leaving the remains of their makeshift camp behind, and set out into the forest. They moved with calculated precision, their formation keeping Léonard safely in the center. The operatives' movements were methodical, their eyes scanning the dense undergrowth and towering trees for any signs of danger.
Léonard couldn't help but marvel at the alien flora around him. The forest was alive with fantastical plants, trees with twisted, luminous bark, flowers that pulsed faintly as though breathing, and vines that seemed to shimmer with a faint, otherworldly glow. His fascination was briefly interrupted by the faint sound of a branch snapping.
One of the operatives at the front immediately raised a clenched fist. The entire group froze, their rifles raised, bodies tense and ready for action. Silence fell over the forest, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze.
Suddenly, the bushes ahead parted, and a massive boar-like creature identical to the one they had just eaten barreled into view. Its powerful frame moved with surprising grace for such a large beast. Léonard felt the tension in his chest ease slightly, about to let out a sigh of relief.
But before he could, the sharp twang of a bowstring broke the silence.
A single arrow, long and finely crafted, whistled through the air and buried itself with unerring accuracy into the boar's skull. The creature let out a guttural grunt before collapsing in a heap, its momentum sending it crashing into a nearby tree.
The operatives turned sharply in the direction the arrow had come from, their weapons at the ready, scanning the forest for the archer.
Léonard's voice cut through the tension, low but firm. "Stay sharp. Whoever shot that arrow is close."
---
William Rochefort, 18 years old, live in a village in the Duchy of Roseen, to the east of the kingdom's capital. He live alone with his mother, a little apart from the rest of the village. Since childhood, William had been rejected because his mother raised him alone, and no man ever took care of them.
Today, William had gone hunting with other young men from his village under the elder's orders to bring back food. The hunting trip was far from successful; they had failed to catch any game. His companions vented their frustrations on William:
"Hey, son of a whore, it's your fault we didn't catch anything today."
Another laughed mockingly: "The beasts must've smelled the stench of your witch mother and ran away."
William gritted his teeth and bore the insults, accustomed to them.
Suddenly, they spotted a Sangliero drinking from the river. The group fell silent and knelt, all eyes fixed on their prey.
One of William's companions, eager to prove himself, drew his bow and fired at the Sangliero. The arrow soared through the air but missed its mark, striking the ground beside the creature.
"Damn it!" the boy cursed under his breath, clenching his fists.
The Sangliero raised its massive head, the sharp, spiraling horns gleaming in the dappled sunlight. Its piercing eyes scanned the area for danger, but before it could bolt, the group of young men sprang into action.
"After it!" shouted the boy who missed, and the group burst from cover, pursuing the startled beast as it crashed through the underbrush.
William hesitated for a moment, his bow still in hand. He took a deep breath, steadying himself amidst the chaos. His heart pounded in his chest as he nocked an arrow, drew the string back, and aimed carefully at the retreating creature.
The Sangliero paused briefly to assess its escape route, giving William a precious moment to release the arrow.
It flew true, striking the beast squarely in the head.
The Sangliero let out a guttural bellow, staggering for a moment before collapsing with a heavy thud against the forest floor.
The group froze, turning to look at William in stunned silence. For a brief moment, he simply stared at the downed beast, his bow still raised. Then, he lowered it, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over him.
William's face broke into a wide, triumphant grin as he approached the Sangliero's massive carcass. The beast's thick horns gleamed in the soft light filtering through the trees.
"Hahaha! I got it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with elation. "We're going to eat well tonight, just me and Mama."
As he admired his kill, his companions exchanged glances behind him. Silent at first, their faces twisted into cruel, calculating smirks.
One of them stepped forward quietly, his movements deliberate.
Before William could react, a fist connected sharply with the back of his head.
"Ugh!" William grunted in pain as he stumbled forward and hit the ground.
The others closed in quickly, raining down blows on him, kicking and punching while hurling insults.
"You think you're better than us, you bastard?" one sneered, driving his foot into William's ribs.
"Maybe if you didn't smell so much like a witch, we'd have caught more!" another spat, his boot slamming into William's side.
William curled into a ball, his arms shielding his head, blood dripping from his nose and lips. His body ached with every blow, but he remained silent, refusing to cry out.
Finally, one of them stepped back, breathing heavily.
"Stupid little bastard," he muttered, leaning down to spit on William's bloodied face.
The others laughed, their jeers echoing in the forest as they turned and walked away, leaving William broken and bleeding on the forest floor.
William lay trembling on the cold forest floor, his body battered and bruised. Blood trickled from his wounds, staining the dirt beneath him. His breath hitched as the pain coursed through his body, and the overwhelming weight of helplessness pressed down on him.
He began to cry.
The tears came fast, hot, and unrelenting, as if years of pain and rejection had finally broken through. He sobbed openly, the sound raw and desperate, echoing in the silent forest.
"Why am I so weak?" he choked out between sobs. His fists clenched the dirt, his entire body shaking with a mix of pain and despair. "Why can't I ever be strong?"
The forest seemed to answer his cries with an eerie stillness. Then, suddenly, a sharp crack pierced the silence, the unmistakable sound of a branch snapping underfoot.
William froze, his breath catching in his throat. His tears stopped momentarily, his wide, tear-filled eyes darting toward the source of the sound.
A beast. That was his first thought. The scent of blood must have drawn a predator. His heart pounded in his chest as fear gripped him. He shut his eyes tightly, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks.
"M-Mama," he whispered shakily, his voice barely audible over his trembling breaths. "I… I'm so sorry. I was too weak… too weak to protect you."
The sound of something approaching grew louder, each step deliberate and heavy. William clenched his fists and braced himself, expecting claws or fangs to end his life.
William's eyes flew open, his heart pounding as strange, incomprehensible sounds echoed around him.
"?/@;)-91?2," a deep voice said, the words meaningless to him. Before he could react, several hands grabbed him, lifting him gently but firmly from where he lay.
"What is…" he mumbled weakly, but his voice trailed off as he was pressed against a nearby tree. His blurry vision began to clear, and he saw several people dressed in strange clothing tending to him.
One of them tilted his head back and poured water into his mouth. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat, even as he coughed weakly. Another person dabbed a strange-smelling alcohol onto his wounds, making him wince from the sting, and then wrapped them with an unfamiliar white fabric.
Standing slightly apart from the group was a young man who seemed to be their leader. Arms crossed, he watched the scene silently. He looked shockingly young, perhaps even younger than William himself.
The leader stepped closer to William and pointed at himself.
"Liam," he said simply.
William understood that the stranger was introducing himself. Gathering his strength, he pointed to himself and said, "William."
Liam's face lit up with a smile, pleased that the communication had worked. He spoke again, a string of words incomprehensible to William. The tone, however, was calm and reassuring.
Before William could process what was happening, two pairs of hands gently lifted him to his feet. He wobbled slightly but managed to stay upright with their support. The group began to move, guiding him through the dense forest.
William looked around as they walked, and suddenly recognition dawned on him. The trees, the winding paths, and the faint sound of rushing water in the distance, it was the route to his village. A small, tired smile spread across his face. Despite his pain, hope began to stir in his chest.
After a few moments of walking, they reached the outskirts of the village. William raised a trembling hand and pointed toward a small house on a hill, separate from the rest of the village. He murmured weakly, "Home."
Liam followed the direction of William's gesture and saw the modest house standing in isolation. He turned to his men, spoke a few brief words, and the group immediately split. Only Liam and the two carrying William continued toward the house, while the rest of the team disappeared into the depths of the forest, moving swiftly and silently.
As they neared the house, a woman outside hanging laundry by the door spotted them. Her gaze fell on William, battered and bruised, and her face contorted in shock and fear.
"William!" she cried out, dropping the laundry and sprinting toward her son.
William's mother rushed to him, her face pale with worry, and embraced him tightly before noticing the full extent of his injuries. Gasping in horror, she gently pulled him closer, her hands trembling as she inspected the cuts and bruises. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him and helped him toward the house.
The two men carrying William moved to follow, ready to assist further, but Liam raised a hand and spoke firmly in his language. The tone of his voice made it clear that they were to wait outside, and they respectfully stayed near the doorway, silent and watchful.
Inside, William's mother carefully laid him down on the small, modest bed. She wiped his face with a damp cloth, her hands moving gently but quickly, her worry written all over her face.
"Mom, I'm sorry for worrying you," William whispered, his voice weak but filled with guilt. "But I was able to come back thanks to those men outside."
She cupped his face with her hands, her eyes softening, and said softly, "Rest now, my dear."
Relieved by her comforting tone, William exhaled deeply and soon drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Once he was settled, his mother rose quietly, glanced toward the three strangers standing outside, and hesitated for a moment. Finally, she walked to the door and opened it. Without saying a word, she gestured for them to enter.
The three entered cautiously, their demeanor calm but alert. She motioned for them to sit at a small wooden table, then pulled out several simple clay cups. Filling them with water from a jug, she placed the cups before her unexpected guests.
As they sat in silence, she finally allowed herself to take a closer look at their strange clothing and equipment. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath catching as she realized just how foreign these strangers were. These were not simple travelers or villagers. Who were they?
Finally, she walked to a small wooden shelf and pulled out an ancient, weathered book. Holding it close to her chest, she turned to the strangers, her expression a mix of fear and curiosity. She hesitated for a moment, then, with a trembling voice, asked:
"Terra?"
The three persons froze, their eyes widening in shock. It wasn't just her question that startled them, it was the unmistakable familiarity of the word. One of them exchanged a quick, surprised glance with Liam, while the others seemed unsure how to respond.
The room grew heavy with silence as the weight of her question hung in the air.
---
Leonard, seated on the other side of the table, was stunned to hear Latin spoken in this otherworldly space. He hesitated, exchanging a glance with Alexei, who muttered in English:
"The last time we answered yes to that question, we got chased by an army of knights."
Leonard nodded, replying, "We need communication. I'll answer, but you stay on alert."
Alexei gave a sharp nod. "Understood, boss."
Leonard then turned to the woman and responded in Latin:
"Ita, a Terra venimus." (Yes, we come from Earth.)
The woman panicked upon hearing Leonard's words but quickly composed herself and asked:
"Non deberetis hic esse. Venistisne nos invadere?"
("You should not be here. Have you come to invade us?")
Leonard responded:
"Non, in portali capti sumus ab uno vestrum bellatoribus aperto, qui nos huc teletransportavit. Tantum volo meos servare et domum redire."
("No, we were caught in a portal opened by one of your warriors, which brought us here. I only wish to save my people and return home.")
The woman seemed to relax at his explanation, then asked:
"Quid vultis in commutatione pro filio meo servato?"
("What do you wish in exchange for saving my son?")
Leonard replied:
"Informationes cupimus, de loco in quo sumus, de viribus hostium, et si fieri potest, quomodo domum reverti possimus. Licetne me quaestiones aliquas vobis ponere?"
("We need information, about where we are, the enemy's forces, and if possible, how to get back home. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?")
The woman responded:
"Ita, plane. Conabor optime respondere."
("Yes, of course. I will try to answer as best as I can.")
Leonard asked:
"Ubi sumus?"
("Where are we?")
The woman replied:
"Nos sumus in Univer'Isle, insula gigantesca volitante in caelis. Haec insula sub ditione regni Univer'Isle est."
("We are on Univer'Isle, a giant floating island lost in the skies. The island is under the control of the Kingdom of Univer'Isle.")
Leonard asked:
"Quis est monarcha?"
("Who is the monarch?")
The woman darkened and replied:
"Rex Adrianus Quintus nominatur, tyrannus potentiae et gloriae cupidus, cuius solum votum est maiorem potentiam adipisci."
("The king is named Adrian V, a tyrant hungry for power and glory whose only wish is to gain more power.")
Leonard looked at her suspiciously:
"Mihi videris multum scire de lingua aliena pro homine huius loci. Quomodo id fieri potest?"
("You seem to know a lot about a foreign language for someone from here. How is that possible?")
She hesitated for a few seconds before responding:
"Olim in Magna Bibliotheca Ætheris laborabam. Accessum habebam ad libros hos antequam Ministerium Veritatum Ætheriorum ante paucos annos veniret ad omnia opera haeretica iudicata delenda."
("I used to work in the Great Library of Ether. I had access to these books before the Ministry of Ethereal Truths came a few years ago to destroy all works deemed heretical.")
Leonard, intrigued, asked:
"Quae sunt copiae armatae regni praesentis?"
("What are the armed forces present in the kingdom?")
The woman replied:
"Cavalli Pennati habemus, unitatem electam pugnantium quae magna Stellae-Alis vehuntur. Postea Ordinem Custodum Vacui, cuius munus est fines nostros defendere. Exercitum nostrum regularem, Astram Militarum, tum copias ecclesiae et milites privatos nobilium atque mercatorum sodalitatum."
("We have the Winged Cavaliers, an elite unit of fighters mounted on Great Star-Wings. Then there's the Order of Void Guardians tasked with protecting our borders, our regular army, the Astra Militarum, along with the troops of the church and the private forces of nobles and merchant guilds.")
Leonard asked:
"Suntne aliqui qui nos adiuvare possent ut hinc exeamus?"
("Is there anyone who could help us get out of here?")
The woman thought for a few seconds before responding:
"Puto Desilistas et Fraternitatem Umbrarum vos adiuvare posse, ambo potestati hodiernae adversantur."
("I think the Desilists and the Brotherhood of Shadows could help you; both are opposed to the current regime.")
Leonard smiled and said:
"Sentio nos longissimam habere sermonem futurum. Nonne molestum erit?"
("I feel we're going to have a very long conversation. Will that bother you?")
The woman smiled:
"Filium meum servavistis. Vobis respondebo, quamdiu necesse erit."
("You saved my son. I will answer you for as long as it takes.")
, , , , , , , , , ,
From Author: I will answer a few questions here:
Did I invent Univers'Isle?
So no, absolutely not, it's a semi-cannon nexus on the wiki, of course all the information is not faithful to the story because simply the SCP Foundation is a creepypasta, I'm not going to follow the work of others like a brainless sheep.
Will our MC be a slave to the system?
Hell no, until now he completed the objectives more because they went in his direction but he will not always follow the objectives of the system but hey, I will not reveal more at the risk of spoiling you.
Will there be any offensive elements? Of course yes, I ain't a woke, there will be clearly elements of racism, homophobia and so on (by the way our very dear antagonists of Univers'Isle are racists against us, earthlings XD)
Also for those who would not have understood, Liam is Leonard, he just designated himself with a false name 🤷
I think that's all for current questions, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask them in paragraph comments or reviews and I will answer them with pleasure.