Inside the tent, Squadron Commander Orcham sat behind his desk, his composed expression highlighted by the soft glow of the crystal rocks. To his right, Commander Hadleigh leaned forward slightly, while on his left, Commander Ardran, a man with a stern, weathered face that spoke of an older era, quietly observed the room. Across from them, the woman who had greeted us earlier—the one responsible for the Carnage Exam results—sat with an air of authority. Though her smile was warm, the serious tone in her eyes signaled the gravity of the conversation ahead.
Orcham leaned forward, his calm gaze passing over each of us in turn. "Congratulations on completing your recent trial," he said, his voice even and controlled.
"But let me be clear: though Mastrata was at fault, you should have known better than to let it escalate into a fight." His tone softened slightly, but the warning was unmistakable. "Discipline is just as important as strength. Next time, the consequences will be severe."
Sensing the tension in Orcham's words, Pola, the woman who greeted us, leaned forward as well. Her voice was calm as she tried to ease the mood. "Commander Orcham, there's no need for alarm," she said with a composed smile.
"I'm Pola, the official responsible for evaluating your performance in the Carnage Exam. Your scores are based on the trophies you've obtained from the monsters you defeated. However, an additional consideration is your teamwork during the incident." She glanced at them as if trying to lighten the atmosphere. "We're here to assess, not just discipline."
Pola paused before continuing, "The Seiken Army is divided into two distinct forces—the regular army, and the elite division to which you now belong."
They had been accepted into the Seiken Army and, by some stroke of fortune, assigned to the same special unit: the Orionis Guard.
"You earned your place in the Seiken Army by defeating a pack of mutant wolves, and ultimately the mutant wolf king," Pola explained.
"In that battle, you not only showcased your combat skills but also your ability to work as a cohesive unit. That was a significant factor in your acceptance. This achievement has marked you as members of the elite Orionis Guard."
Orcham nodded in agreement with Pola before adding, "The second reason you were accepted… was your ability to defeat Mastrata and his squad without taking a single life." His eyes glanced down at the report on his desk.
"As confirmed by the elf Sara and her jinn companions, this demonstrated not only your strength but also your restraint and tactical discipline, qualities we highly value in the Seiken Army."
Orcham then smiled—a rare gesture that broke through his usual stoicism. "Welcome to the Orionis Guard," he said sincerely.
Hadleigh and Commander Ardran joined in, both grinning.
"You've proven yourselves worthy,"
Hadleigh added, his tone more encouraging. "We look forward to fighting alongside you."
The atmosphere shifted—camaraderie and a sense of belonging settled in, as the weight of their new roles began to take hold.
Commander Ardran's face remained serious but held understanding. "As for Mastrata and his two companions, they will also join the Seiken Army, but as standard soldiers, not part of any special forces like the Orionis Guard."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "While they won't be punished for their previous actions, they are now held to the same expectations as all of you." His stern expression softened slightly.
They nodded through all of it, still clueless about what exactly being an Orionis Guard meant, they didn't particularly care about Mastrata's fate.
In the orphanage, they had been kept in the dark about many things.
Hadleigh stepped forward suddenly, catching them off guard by enveloping them in a warm embrace. Eline blushed, taken aback by the unexpected affection from the typically calm and stern commander. His warm smile contrasted sharply with his usual demeanor, revealing a softer side. His genuine joy in welcoming them to the Orionis Guard was undeniable.
"You've earned this moment," he said, stepping back with a grin.
"So don't be shy about celebrating your victory!" Commander Ardran said, while watching the exchange, smiled knowingly.
they left the tent and made their to a ship.
A wooden red ship, with a red dragon figurehead. Bright orange lights serving as the eyes, a mast tall as a mountain with the kingdom flag waves, colored dark blue , with eight heads star, a symbol representing the nine races, the top head slightly taller with another triangle inside it, representing the humans are protected under god's wings. The sail is black as night, it ends in the center of the ship,with the similar symbol in the middle. Chains and three gunports lines, one under the other, decorating the ship.
Ursang couldn't help but puff his chest with pride. "Orionis, huh?" he said, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and satisfaction.
As they boarded the ship, one of the soldiers whistled sharply to catch the attention of the others. Another soldier grinned and shouted, "New members!" drawing the eyes of the others.
The soldiers greeted them with respect, an acknowledgment of the hard work they had put in.
Mastrata approached Yacha, his expression unreadable. "No hard feelings about what happened," he said quietly.
Yacha met his gaze, offering a slight nod. "You did what you had to do," he replied.
Ursang chimed in, "That's how it works."
Speira, ever impulsive, gave Mastrata a light uppercut.
"Now we're even," she said with a smirk.
The ship cut smoothly through the dark waters as it sailed north toward Akkadia. The salty breeze brought with it the chill of northern winds, while the creaking wooden deck echoed beneath their feet. The overcast sky dimmed the sunlight, casting a shadow over the journey ahead.
But Yacha's thoughts drifted elsewhere. He couldn't shake the image of the severed head from his dream. The woman in the dress adorned with delicate pink flowers, the terrible bloom of blood—her screams still echoed in his mind. The vividness of it felt more like a memory than a dream. His heart pounded as unease settled over him, a sense of dread gnawing at him. Was this a forgotten memory clawing its way back to him?
Yacha's face had gone pale, haunted by the vision. Ursang noticed immediately.
"Are you okay?" he asked, casting a curious glance Yacha's way.
Yacha shook his head, trying to compose himself. "I'm fine," he replied.
Speira elbowed him, breaking the tension. "Afraid you're losing your spotlight, Yacha?" she teased, smirking. "Don't worry, I'll take it from here."
Despite the banter, Yacha's thoughts remained elsewhere—fixed on a past he couldn'the couldn't fully remember, but felt compelled to uncover.