The shade of the tall deciduous trees had given them some respite from the sun as they followed close behind a group of the otherworldly soldiers; they were being led to a camp just outside of Bredon where he and his small entourage would then be transported to the otherworlder’s main base.

“Are you really sure about this, my lord?” Captain Erskine – his personal bodyguard and leader of his royal knights whispered to him. “I can take your place and escort the priestess for your brother’s parting ritual while also scouting out their defenses, milord.” the captain offered to him.

He and the rest his royal servants had protested his choice to visit the otherworlder’s base in such short notice; citing improper royal etiquette and a possible attempt on his life could be made, especially after the otherworlders had insisted that only a small contingent of them could only go with him at the time.

“I understand your concern for me, Captain – but we are not going there as vultures. If they really intended to harm us, then they would have done so already.” Drakul replied. “Right now, those otherworlders are confused and scared. We must take the initiative and be the ones to guide them on this world before the empire catches a whiff of their existence.”

“But won’t they just favor the empire once they know that they are led by humans?” The Captain raised his concern after the distance between them and the otherworlder soldiers was far enough. “And all those who had been previously transferred to our world seem to lean towards their own kind, or those of the elves. I highly doubt that these otherworlders are any different than them, my lord.”

“That’s why this visit is more important than my safety or how I look as a king, Captain.” He replied as he glanced at the towering undead bearing the crimson royal armor. “Our kingdom has finally been given the chance to begin a new era of prosperity, and I will do whatever it takes to secure our future.”

“Just keep in mind where your loyalty lies to, Lord Drakul. The Lady and the church won’t appreciate it if you put the otherworlders sake above your people.” A shaky, raspy feminine voice growled behind him. “Especially after what they did to our land and people back then.”

“I am confident that these otherworlders are different from those who had been transferred at Georgina’s Ire, Sister Ingrid.” Drakul replied as he glanced back at the short hooded figure in the middle of their group. The old undead lady is the current high priestess of the church of Sabina, and is one of the key representatives of the undead natives of his kingdom. While kind and compassionate like the rest of her congregation, Sister Ingrid had always put up a tough stance against relying on other kingdoms or guilds when it came to the problems of their kingdom. “And I’m only doing this for our kingdom. If we succeed in bringing these otherworlders to our side, then our people will be the ones to reap the benefits of our endeavor.”

“We’ll see, your highness. We’ll see.” Ingrid replied as they caught up with the group of otherworlders waiting for them at the treeline.

They arrived at a large clearing just beyond the edge of the forest and were immediately greeted by more otherworlders manning positions behind the same pile of brown sacks and iron thorns that Drakul had encountered at the town center. He could hear a faint sound in the distance that was gradually getting louder as they approached the camp’s entrance. He was about to make a remark about the strange noise when he was approached by the colonel.

“Lord Drakul, I hope the short trek isn’t too exhausting for you.” Armstrong greeted him as the human shook his hand.

“No, it wasn’t Colonel Armstrong. I found it rather pleasant than staying inside my castle all day.” Drakul chuckled before spotting three large objects coming over the horizon.

A strong gust of wind washed over them as the three large black wyverns hovered above the otherworlder’s camp. The largest and bulky looking black wyvern began to descend towards the center of the camp while the two other wyverns started to circle around the area.

“That’s your ride, Lord Drakul!” The Colonel shouted as the strange loud noise coming from the black wyverns had made it tough to communicate. “Sergeant Sturrock and his men will accompany your group for the duration of your visit. Good luck and have a safe flight, your highness!” Armstrong added before bidding farewell to him.

“Follow me sir!” The man leading the group soldiers motions to him towards the camp.

They passed through multiple green tents and odd metal cabins before arriving at the area where one of the wyverns landed. Drakul was fascinated when he finally got the chance to lay his eyes upon the strange angular beast before them; it was unlike any wyvern he had seen before.

As they got close to the roaring beast, a large ramp lowered at the back of the creature and a man wearing a different green uniform and helmet emerged and quickly began ushering them inside the beast. Drakul was more than happy to comply, as the large dust clouds being kicked off by the large blades were unpleasant to be at. Captain Erskine followed close behind, while the high priestess had some hesitation at first before entering the belly of the beast.

“You can sit on the sides here, fellas!” The man in the green overalls beckoned at them as Sgt. Sturrock and his men began boarding the large beast; the man then handed them strange devices and instructed them to wear it on their heads to cover their ears. Drakul had to adjust his crown before finally fitting the weird contraption on his head while the royal knights had to remove their helmets first. To his delight, the device had muffled the head-splitting noise coming from the wyvern.

“Can you hear me, your highness?” A strange voice called out for him. At first, he thought that someone might have been talking to him on the psychic plane; then he noticed the man in green overalls waving at him. “You can use the microphone attached to your headset to talk, your highness.”

“Y-yes! I can hear you!” Drakul replied. “Quite a loud wyvern you have here!”

“Yeah, she purrs nicely ain't she, your highness?.” The man chuckled. “Okay folks! Just sit tight and we’ll be there in 10!” The man added before Drakul felt the same sensation he usually felt when he was taking off with a wyvern.

----------

[AUGUST 21, 2035???] [12:35 PM]

“And they’ll only tell us after we let them go with their personal belongings and promise that we won’t inform the local church and the authorities of their presence, sir.” Dr. Bailey concluded her report; standing behind the doctor was Major Hanlon, who was holding an evidence bag in his hand.

Collins sat there for a moment, trying to take in the information given to him by the short doctor. The captured elves were willing to give them the current whereabouts of a warrior from Earth who had been transferred to this world a decade ago, in exchange for their freedom.

“Okay, doctor. Tell them I’ll have to think about it.” He sighed. “And for the meantime, keep a close eye on the POWs. I don’t want anything bad happening to them right as we handed them over to the local forces.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll get right into it.” Bailey replied before she left his office.

“We should prioritize finding that person, ASAP.” The major advised as he sat down on the chair where the doctor had been sitting, he then presented the plastic evidence bag he was carrying to him. “I had my men check their belongings and they found this in the pocket of the female elf.”

It was an old, well-worn lensatic compass that you fetch at a surplus store for a hundred bucks. Collins examined it and noticed the initials “R.S” etched on the top cover; this compass had obviously seen better days.

“They also found a map of this region; some books written in an unknown language; a couple of vials filled with mysterious glowing liquids, and a medieval strongbox.” Hanlon added before he finished inspecting the contents of the evidence bag.

“What’s inside the box?” He asked.

“We still haven’t got to it, Sir.” The Major replied. “It won’t open, even with the key for it being used. My men said that the weird symbols all over it began to flicker whenever they tried prying or lock picking the damn thing. I guess it's safe to assume that there's some kind of magic bullshit in the works here, sir.”

“Alright, try not to be forceful when opening that strongbox, for all we know it could be rigged. And send the vials to the hospital lab so they can analyze it for any potential biohazard materials.” Collins replied. He wanted to know all factors involved with the captured elves before entertaining their deal; the last thing he needed was letting the elves go free with some sort of magic WMD or something like that. “As for the map and books, photocopy them and have your men and the Brit’s eggheads look into it for any intel.” He added.

“Godfather, This is Doghouse 1 actual.” A feminine voice blurted out from his handheld radio. “Your Prowler is waiting for you downstairs, sir.”

“Copy that Sergeant! I’ll be there in a sec!” Collins replied as he stood up and grabbed his Parade coat from his swiveling chair before facing Hanlon again. “I want the results at my desk before nightfall. Major.”

“Yes sir.” Hanlon replied as he also stood up from his chair.

“Do I look good, Major?” He asked the white-haired man after he wore his parade cap and straightened his tie.

“You look fantastic, General.” The Major replied before glancing back at the gas mask he left at his desk. “Uhmm, are you really sure about meeting them without any personal protection, sir?”

“Yes, I am, Major. You already heard the go ahead from the doctor’s report. And besides, I need to look fashionable for the king. Yeah?” Collins chuckled. It was still a risky move though, but trust between them has to start somewhere.

“I’m just saying, sir.” Hanlon replied.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

----------

He had flown on wyverns before, but none of them had ever come close to being this comfortable to ride in. Sure, the loud noise and occasional shaking (which the otherworlders had referred to as “turbulence”) are annoying, but it's a welcome tradeoff compared to strong winds, the stench of the wyvern, and the danger of falling off. He also noticed that this metal wyvern is capable of carrying a large amount of people, which is an impossible feat; even with the strongest and largest breed of wyverns in their continent, he could only think of many ways he could employ this metal wyvern should he acquire one from the otherworlders.

For a short moment, Drakul felt his stomach on his throat as the metal wyvern started to descend. He was familiar with the odd sensation, but he can’t say the same for the high priestess and some of his servants who were holding on to dear life on the harness strapped around their bodies. Meanwhile, Erskine and his royal knights are more calm and collected – being veterans of the wyvern corps during the third demonic invasion. He finally felt the metal beast touching the ground, and to his surprise the landing was very smooth.

“We’re here, your highness!” The man in the green coveralls announced as he walked past them and towards the back of the metal wyvern. “Just leave the headphones at your seats and if you need any help with your harness, just holler at me!” he added just as the large ramp began to lower.

Drakul undid his harness, then stood up while their armed escorts had already gone ahead and left the metal wyvern; he waited for Erskine and Ingrid to join him before leaving the belly of the metal beast.

They were immediately greeted by a sea of gray buildings, pavements, and even more armed otherworlders surrounding them. He can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable from the amount of eyes staring at them from behind those menacing masks. The only one that stood out among the masked men was a man wearing a bland drab green jacket and blue pants. Instead of the same black masks that every other worlder was using, he only had a simple hat with a golden eagle insignia emblazoned on it.

The man smiled as he approached them.

“Lord Drakul, it's an honor to finally meet you in person.” The man enthusiastically greeted him as he offered his hand to him. Drakul quickly recognized the man as the general he had spoken to before, on the magic mirror back at Bredon. “I wished we could’ve prepared some sort of ceremony for your arrival, but as you can see, our circumstances right now are not favorable to say the least.''

“It's fine, General Collins. I understand the situation that you and your men had found yourselves into; many had been in your position a long time ago; and only a few of them have been friendly with us, you see.” He replied as he shook the general’s hand. “Oh, where are my manners? This is my personal bodyguard and the head of my royal guard, Captain Erskine Weber.”

“Well met, Captain.” Collins nodded at Erskine before stepping forward and offering him a handshake.

“Likewise, General Collins.” The towering undead replied as he shook the general’s hand.

“And this here is High Priestess Ingrid Tindall; she is the head priestess of our church.” Drakul introduced the hooded figure behind him.

“Greetings General Collins. I hope your arrival won’t interfere with Sabina's work, nor bring harm on her congregation.” The High Priestess greeted Collins before he could offer her a handshake. She also lowered her hood – revealing her heavily decomposed face to the unsuspecting man; the general was obviously taken aback for a second before quickly regaining his composure and shaking the priestesses hand.

“I sure hope so. High Priestess. It's an honor to meet you.” Collins smiled at Ingrid, to his relief. The high priestess has a habit of testing outsiders whenever she has to deal with them. “Anyways. It's very nice to meet all of you on this fine day, and I don’t wanna keep you guys waiting, so let’s take a short ride to your… brother, Lord Drakul.” he added as he gestured at the line of strange looking carriages behind him.

Drakul recognized some of the metal wagons he saw back at Bredon, mostly the large one with a small raised rectangular roof and a long black rod sticking out of it. He had heard stories from some of the men at the garrison that they allegedly saw it taking down a hulking abomination within seconds; if it's true, then he can only wonder what kind of monsters these otherworlders faced at their homeworld to warrant such power.

They boarded a different metal wagon, the long one in which its back resembles that of a carriage but much bigger, and wider. Finally, something that was familiar to him, Drakul thought to himself. His group sat on the right side while the general and his armed guards sat on the other side. After everyone had boarded, the metal wagon began to move forwards.

“I’ve never seen such a large transferred base before.” Drakul praised as they passed by large buildings and wide paved roads, while the architecture was bland at best – it is still impressive to marvel at the alien structures. “I’ve only seen some remnants of camps made by those who had been transferred to our world, and none of them had come close to the size of your base. General Collins.”

“Yeah, this was one of the largest military hubs of my nation back on Earth.” The general proudly smiled. “This military installation – Main Operating Base Razor, has served the United States and her allies in the Pacific for well over a decade now, and I hope that it can resume its duty back to our world. You’ve mentioned that there were those who had been here before us; what can you tell me about them, your highness?”

“I am not well versed with the fine details of most previous transferences, but I’m familiar with most of them.” He replied, trying his best to remember the stories and legends that his mother used to tell him when he was young. “Let’s see… The most prominent one was the famous screaming eagles down in the southern region of our continent – Strozoris. They liberated every human, beastfolk, elf, dwarf, and even us, the undead, from the fearsome Orc warlord Xorakk who used to rule this entire continent with an iron fist.”

“The screaming eagles? By any chance that these men of screaming eagles were called or referred to themselves as the 101st Airborne?” Collins asked.

“I’m not sure, but I do remember that they also bear the same flag as yours, general.” He replied as he pointed at the small but recognizable flag on one of the general’s guards. “The hellfighters and desert rangers on the eastern continents, the raging bulls that united the vital island chain, and even the recent lone warrior that was transferred here a decade ago. All of them have proudly fought under that banner.”

“That’s very impressive, what happened to them?” The general inquired.

“Some helped kingdoms and empires grow; some even established their own nation, and some have just continued to wander around and help anyone in need. But I’m afraid most of them are no longer with us, general. Their transference happened decades and centuries ago.” He further explained to the general. “However, the lone warrior I mentioned is still alive as far as I know.”

“What can you tell us about this lone warrior?” Collins asked, just as their wagon entered a wide open field with rows of strange looking large buildings that vaguely resembled the roofs of barns and a long stretch of gray pavement running down for almost a mile.

“He was the one who brokered peace between the dwarves and elves and led the finest men and women of our coalition against the largest demonic invasion that this world had ever seen.” Drakul replied before facing the towering figure sitting beside him. “Captain Erskine can tell you more about him as he personally fought side by side with the man during the third demonic invasion.”

“His name was Randolph Sykes, a brilliant tactician and one of the finest warriors I ever served with during that bloody campaign. He was the only human to ever come face to face with a demonic overlord and lived to tell the tale.” Erskine fondly shared with them. “The last time I heard from him is that he settled down within the elven borders and became a military advisor for them and their newfound ally, the Ironside Republic.”

Drakul could’ve shared the same sentiment that his captain was feeling; he had met numerous valiant and honorable elven and dwarven folks during those darkest times. But the prideful ingrates and shameless backstabbers that ran their kingdoms had left an unpleasant mark on those memories.

He was thinking of how he could arrange a meeting between the general and the lone warrior when he felt the metal wagon coming to a complete stop beside one of the large semi-circle buildings; they disembarked from the wagon and were escorted inside the large building. His entourage were directed towards the middle of a wide room, where a familiar figure covered in some sort of huge yellow cloth lies motionless on the ground.

“I’m really sorry for your loss, Lord Drakul.” Collins lamented as they both stood beside the remains of his brother. “I wished we could have dealt with him in a much different way than this…”

“It's alright, General Collins.” Drakul sighed as the otherworlders removed the yellow sheet – revealing the disfigured body of his brother. “He was a brainwashed warmongering fool who couldn't let go of the old ways. He and his band of bloodthirsty marauders had terrorized my countrymen for far too long now, and you have my thanks for finally putting an end to their violence.”

He stood there for a minute, staring at the corpse of his brother. It was clear that his brother had made a deal with the demons that survived the invasion, as prominent signs of demonic corruption were evident all around his body.

I’m sorry, brother. Drakul muttered as he closed his brother’s blood-red eyes. He glanced at the large open wound on his brother’s torso, which brought some relief to him knowing that his brother had passed away without too much suffering. But it also struck further fear in him, knowing that these otherworlders had the capability to easily pierce through the hardened daemonite armor that his brother was wearing.

“If you want, I can have one of our birds transport your brother’s remains back to town for a proper burial, your highness.” Collins offered. “It's the least we can do for you, Lord Drakul.”

“I appreciate it, General. But there’s no need for it.” He replied before facing the hooded figure in his group. “Sister Ingrid.”

The high priestess stepped forward and began unpacking the materials needed for the parting ritual; the general noticed this and ordered his men to give them some space. Drakul originally wanted to bury his brother beside his mother, but doing so would lead to an outcry from the church and his countrymen. So, he settled for the more mundane passing ritual which would cremate the body of his brother.

“Thank you for finally bringing peace to his resentful soul.” Drakul faced towards the otherworlder standing beside him, just as the high priestess had concluded the parting ritual. “And I believe that we have much more to discuss. General Collins.”

----------

[1:24 PM]

Kerry gazed at the mountains of rotting flesh that had piled outside the battered medieval fort; he watched as the locals threw the last torn up body to the pile, before a hooded figure approached the massive pile of corpses and started throwing some kind of blue powder all over the bodies. After spreading the blue powder around the pile of dead flesh, the figure laid down a large urn and kneeled before doing some sort of prayer that went on for a minute; after that, the hooded figure conjured up a bright blue flame from its hand and set the pile of bodies on fire.

It was both mesmerizing and alarming to watch the azure blaze disintegrate the large pile of corpses within a minute; it was like watching a match burn through its wooden part in a matter of seconds, leaving only the blackened husk of its former self.

Kerry could only wonder if this was the fate of every dead combatant in this world.

“Jesus christ! I swear to god these fucking masks.” He heard Martinez curse as he and Sarah hopped in the back seat of the Hunter he’s in.

“There we go, much better.” Sarah sighed in relief as she removed her APR mask and wiped the sweat off her forehead before turning to him. “We did what we could on their casualties, sarge. Corporal Colbert and his team are doing a final sweep on the refugees as we speak.”

“Good.” Kerry replied as he watched the hooded figure disappear back to the fortress. “Anything else?”

“Well, if you can believe it sarge.” Martinez began to snicker. “One of those zombie knights had started hitting on Sarah. I think she already gave him her number.”

“Fuck off Martinez.” The blonde medic retorted as she punched Martinez on the shoulder. “At least I’m already getting some ass in this world, unlike you.”

“So you do admit that you just scored some necro boo-”

Before the giggling private could finish, Kerry’s radio squawked and a well-known voice called out for them. “Sgt. Kerry! Sgt. Barklem! Meet me at the fortress gate immediately, over.”

“Copy that Crossroads, I’m on my way.” Kerry replied before grabbing his mask and rifle that was laying on the passenger seat. “You two just sit tight and stay sharp till I get back here. I have a feeling that we won’t be going back to the forward camp just yet.”

He quickly made his way towards the fortress, passing through several parked Hunters and Marshalls before finally arriving at the battered outer gate where several militiamen smiled and greeted Kerry as he approached them. Most of the men, including himself, still have mixed feelings whenever they interact with the locals. While their friendliness and welcoming nature was a nice change of pace compared to his previous deployment on Altis, their appearance is… off-putting to say the least.

Past the guards, he saw the colonel; one of the Marshall commanders, and an undead knight wearing crimson steel armor, all standing in front of a parked Prowler.

“Kind of you to finally join us, Sgt. Kerry.” Armstrong greeted him. “This is Captain Lisandro, General Boros' right hand man and the commander of the local garrison forces. He’ll be our liaison for the meantime.”

“It's good to meet you, Sergeant Kerry.” The undead knight smiled as he reached out his left hand to him.

“Nice to meet you too, captain.” Kerry replied as they shook hands while trying his best to ignore the exposed jaw of the undead knight.

“Now that everyone’s acquainted with each other, let me brief you all with a developing situation right now.“ Armstrong said as he led them towards the front of the Prowler, where two maps were laid out on the hood. Kerry noticed that one of the maps is drawn on an old parchment, while the other one was on printed paper with multiple markings and notes written on the side.

“Five minutes ago, one of our drones that was on its way back to our base had spotted two large groups of unknowns somewhere north of our position. The drone didn’t get a positive ID on the unknown contacts due to the dense forest, not to mention that it was running on fumes at that point. General Boros had also confirmed that there were no local forces present around that area. So I want you, Nomad and Sierra 1, to locate and identify these contacts. Captain Lisandro and his men will accompany you on this one, he knows the lay of the land and the locals; so let him handle such things.” The colonel explained before facing them. “So, do you have any questions?”

“Do we get any air cover for this one, colonel?” He asked.

“Air cover is limited at this time, Sergeant. The Blackfoots are still refueling and rearming back at Razor, and as I said earlier, that part of the forest is quite dense for CAS to effectively support you.” The colonel replied. “I’m confident that you and Sgt. Barklem will be able to handle any threat you’ll come across, but if shit really hits the fan, then I have Bravo and Delta squads plus Sierra 2 and 3 standing by as QRF. Are there any more questions? None? Then mount up!”

----------

The meeting room was dull and lifeless compared to his council chambers back at his palace, but it's still comfortable and spacious enough to not warrant any complaints from his servants. The only thing that stood out in the room was the peculiar wheeled chair, and the large transparent windows that gave them a good view of the outside.

His group sat on the left side of the long oval table while, General Collins and his staff sat on the opposite side with their backs against the windows.

“Now that everyone’s sitting comfortably, I would like to thank everyone for coming down here. The last few days have been tense for me and my men, and having the ruler of this land come down here personally to meet with us has done a lot to ease that tension.” Collins expressed his gratitude to them.

“Many before you had faced the same dilemma as yours, General. But rest assured, you have my full support, especially after you single-handedly ended my brother’s reign of terror overnight, and saved the lives of General Boros’ men and the citizens of Bredon at Fort Landestrost. I simply cannot let you go unrewarded for your heroic deeds.” Drakul replied. “I am willing to hear your demands, General Collins, as long as they are reasonable.”

“Well, first things first.” Collins replied before he pulled out several papers from his satchel. “We would like you to recognize the land that Main Operating Base Razor occupies as sovereign territory of the United States of America, and anyone entering within its premises will be subjected to her laws.”

“I have granted plots of land for other countries to build their embassies before; but I have yet to grant such special status to one.” Drakul replied. “Alright, I’ll grant it, as long as you won’t abuse such special privileges bestowed upon you. General Collins.”

“Of course we won’t, your highness. Trust goes both ways, after all.” The general grinned before shuffling the papers he had been holding. “Our next request is that trade should be introduced between MOB Razor and your kingdom. While our base was a supply hub for our forces back in our world, we only have a limited amount of food in our stores and we severely lack the self-sufficiency to sustain the stomachs of the 75,000 men and women stationed here. We were hoping you could alleviate this problem in exchange for valuable knowledge and technology.”

“I can’t promise that I can meet your demand for food, but I’ll see what I can do about it, general.” Drakul sighed. They barely managed to fill up their reserves for this upcoming winter, and now he has to find a way to feed the otherworlders too, before autumn starts. “Does this trade agreement permit the exchange of your weapons and steel elephants?”

“Unfortunately, we are prohibited from selling firearms and weapon systems to anyone, your highness. This also brings me to our next request.” The general replied before he drank water from a frosted glass and shuffled his papers again. “We wished to remain neutral and separate from your armed forces. But we do recognize the instability of the surrounding regions, and are willing to cooperate with your forces regarding peacekeeping and security operations. However, we won’t partake in or support any operation that threatens another nation’s sovereignty and/or endangers the lives of innocent civilians.”

“Are you suggesting a defense pact between us, General Collins?” He asked.

“Of some sort, your highness.” Collins replied. “We still need to assess the situation and politics of the surrounding area before we could propose a proper defense treaty. For now, we’ll only operate within the confines of your kingdom.”

While he didn’t get the defense pact he was hoping for, it was still something to have the backing of the powerful otherworlders. Perhaps this will be enough to deter the aggressive expansionism of the Aevum Empire for the meantime.

“Then I’ll be looking forward to it, General Collins.” Drakul smiled at the man before him.

“And finally, we would like to investigate these ruins nearby.” The general said before handing him a life-like top-down painting of a forest with overgrown structures dotting the area. “These structures and the blue panels you see here are very similar to the era we came from, and we are hoping that we could find some evidence on why or how we were transported into your world, perhaps even find a way to go back home if we're lucky.”

“I must regretfully inform you that everyone who’d been transferred here before you, had remained in this world till their final moments.” Drakul sighed. “And none of them had found a way back to their world, even with the help of the smartest scholars and powerful mages.”

“Well… We can dream, right?” Collins gave out a weak smile to them after a short, silent pause.

“Those ruins in the paintings you’ve shown us are sacred grounds to us. General Collins.” The high priestess interjected. “I’ll only grant you access to it once you've proven yourself to the lady.”

“How do we prove ourselves to her, high priestess?” The general inquired.

“Help the town of Bredon rebuild itself.” Ingrid replied. “Its citizens have strayed away from Sabina’s light for far too long, and have suffered for it. Help them redeem themselves before her, and then I’ll grant you access to her holy ground.”

“We’ll try, your holiness.” Collins replied before finally setting down the papers he had been holding. “Before we conclude this meeting, we would also like to hand over a group of rebels that had surrendered to us after their attempted assault of our base.”

“Surrendered?” Drakul asked. “This has to be the first instance of those abominations surrendering to anyone.”

“They’re not those things, your highness.” Collins replied before handing them multiple small paintings of different undead men lying in beds. “They claim that they’re militiamen from the town nearby, and that they’re forced by the mayor to join the ranks of the rebels.”

“My lord, I recognized this man.” Erskine tapped at one of the small paintings. “Lieutenant Lukas Milton, he was one of the veteran wyvern fliers that held off the demon gargoyles during the battle of Mt. Merkur. He is a proud and loyal warrior of the Wyvern Corps, your highness. I seriously doubt that he will side with the rebels willingly.”

“His innocence will soon be judged by the inquisition, Captain.” Tindall hissed at the towering undead figure beside him.

“I must request that these captured men be treated humanely and will not be harmed under any circumstances.” The General snapped at them. “And if you won’t agree with that, then I cannot hand them over in good faith.”

“Of course we will. General Collins.” He assured Collins before the high priestess could retort back. “I’ll personally make sure that they’ll be treated fairly and have a chance to prove themselves in a trial.”

“I would appreciate that, your highness.” Collins replied before a couple of guards entered the room with trays in their hands. “Well then, this concludes our meeting for today. Please, enjoy yourselves on some sweets that my chefs prepared for this occasion; it's the least I could do for you while we arrange for your transport back to Bredon.“

“Oh, and if you could please accompany me back to my office, Lord Drakul, so I can give you copies of my request, then that would be great.”

----------

It’s been ten years since he stepped foot in this part of the woods, but it felt like it was only yesterday. He still vividly remembers the days where he fought tooth and nail with the local wildlife and ghouls while freezing his ass off in a blizzard because the big man in the sky decided to transfer him into this world during winter. Back then, he was barely getting by in this world – but now, he is a decorated warrior of the United Elven Alliance on a mission to safeguard the future of his homeland.

Sykes could only hope that those poor bastards that the madame had mentioned, were faring much better than him on his first days in Ezutria.

“Staff sergeant!” He heard someone whisper behind him. “Shouldn’t we check on them, sir? It’s been awhile since they went up that hill.” The young elf wearing a poncho asked him.

“Negative, Sergeant. We don’t wanna interrupt their ritual if they are already having a hard time tuning in with the signatures of the expedition group.” Sykes replied. “Just stay put and watch your sectors.”

“Hey staff sarge, what are you planning to do with the new otherworlders after this operation?” The blonde elf with a makeshift ghillie hood and clutching a crossbow in her hands, asked him.

“To be honest? I really don’t know, corporal.” He replied. “I’ll probably take their commanding officer for a date to the nearby tavern, and try to catch up with things going on back home.”

“I don’t think the ranger would like that idea, sir.” The blonde elf chuckled. “Speaking of the devil.”

Sykes noticed the two crouched figures approaching them from the hillside. One of whom was wearing his newly invented multicam mage robe, while the other was wearing the standard green uniform of the rangers and a cape with the proud symbol of house Westwood.

"What’s the sitrep, Ranger?" He asked Lyndis as she and the battlemage as they slid into the ditch his squad was taking cover with.

"We've picked the holy artifact’s tracking rune somewhere southeast from the hill near the shoreline, along with two signature bindings in the vicinity of the tracking rune.” The ranger replied. “Battlemage Helephyra has also discovered a large amount of faint signatures farther down south, but all of them aren’t emitting any pulse…”

“Fuck.” He sighed. “Okay… Everyone take a fiver and make sure your weapons are loaded, and I want all of you to top up your personal runes. After that, we’ll make a beeline for the artifact and the survivors.”

“Yes, staff sergeant!” His squad whispered in unison before unpacking the firearms they’d been carrying on their backs.

His squad was equipped with M16s, M14s, an M60, and even a M79 Grenade launcher – all of it were graciously lended to him by house Westwood, who apparently had been keeping a large stash of weapons and ammunitions that was left behind by previous transferees that came from the 60s.

Sykes was looking at his map and planning their next move, when his wife sat down next to him.

"She's alive, my love." Lyndis confided in him as he set the map aside and held her hand. “I know her signature far too well to mistake it for someone else’s.”

“If someone made it out, it's gotta be your sister, my dear.” He assured her. “She might be young but she definitely knows how to handle hersel-.”

Before Sykes could finish, he heard the subtle crack of twigs near their position. He had fought and trained with these elves for almost three years, which allowed him to enhance his senses, such as knowing the difference between an animal grazing nearby and someone walking in the forest.

He grabbed his battered M1A and aimed down the direction he heard the noise from, his squad quickly followed his lead and took cover behind the oak trees. He was hoping – hell, even praying to Azdarr that whoever these people are, they’ll just pass by and carry on like they weren’t there. The last thing they needed was to let the locals and the church of Sabina know of their presence there.

His hope, however, was completely shattered when a crossbow bolt struck the tree he was hiding behind, missing only a couple of inches from his face.

"Ambush!"

..........