Chapter 145
Chapter 145: From The Balcony
“I look ridiculous,” I grumbled, hobbling closer to the mirror to study myself.
The plated armor was gaudy and inefficient in design. My chest and shoulders were protected by a silver pauldron and a gorget that reached up to my chin, allowing for only minimal movement of my neck. Even more restricting, my hip and thighs were guarded by a tasset that prohibited me from raising my legs. The subtle detailings on my gauntlets and greaves matched the ones on my breastplate and a blazing red cape fell down to the back of my knees, covering the large, decorative sword strapped to my lower back.
“You look awe-inspiring, Sir,” the timid handmaid praised as she began tying up my hair.
“Anyone who can fight proficiently while wearing this death trap deserves my respect,” I replied, trying to lift my arms above my shoulders.
‘Well, at least you’ll look impressive to the crowd,’ Sylvie pointed out from my bed, still half-asleep.
‘Zip it! You’re lucky I’m not making you wear any armor,’ I shot back.
‘My scales are my armor.’ Sylvie arched her back, stretching like a cat as she nimbly hopped off the bed.
“There! All done,” the handmaid announced, carefully placing a golden band to secure my hair in place. “This armor is not only majestic, it has many protective runes engraved into it!”
“I understand the armor, but must I have this sword on me as well? I have one, and it’s a pretty nice one too!” I said, taking out Dawn’s Ballad from my dimension ring.
The timid handmaid rubbed her short brown hair as her eyes shifted away uncomfortably. “I-It’s very pretty, Sir, but—”
“It’s too thin! It doesn’t make you look powerful!” the bear-like handmaid cut in, firmly securing my pauldron with her meaty hands. “Perfect. You’re all good to go!”
I gazed down at my teal-bladed sword, forged masterfully by an eccentric asura, and slid it back into its sheath before taking a deep breath and putting it back into my dimension ring.
As I walked stiffly out of the room, Sylvie, still reluctant to talk unless we were completely alone, chirped in my head.‘I bet you’re going to impress the crowd with your new armor!’
‘I’m hoping to stay at the sidelines through this whole speech. I know that Virion wanted all the main players here today to raise morale, but I think the lances are enough for that,’ I thought back as we made our way down the empty hallway.
The residents and most of the workers inside the castle had been escorted through the gate earlier this morning so they could find a seat in the crowd. I didn’t get a chance to see my family today, but they did leave a message with that timid handmaid saying they looked forward to seeing me up on the balcony.
‘I can’t believe Virion decided to have the speech done at Etistin, though. Isn’t that where the Alacryan ships are heading?’ Sylvie voiced, concerned as she nestled on my shoulder.
‘I think it makes sense. It’s a bit of a wild card, but if done right—and I’m sure that’s what Virion is shooting for—the crowd will see our force as much more imposing up close than their ships from afar.’
‘I guess.’
Even walking down the stairs became a task in this bulky armor, and I became more and more tempted to just jump down the center of the spiral staircase, regardless of who might inconveniently be at the bottom.
The sharp ringing of my metal greaves on the stone pathway toward the teleportation room echoed throughout the narrow corridor, alerting the two guards stationed of my presence. Once I reached the familiar iron doors, both the augmenter and conjurer guard welcomed me with a courteous bow as they began unlocking the imposing entranceway to the circular room.
“Everyone is waiting inside,” the augmenter announced as he slid open the metal door, revealing the central figures of this war.
It was quite a sight as Bairon Wykes, Varay Aurae, and Aya Grephin, the three remaining Lances, stood, clad in decorated white armor just as gaudy as mine.
I noticed that Virion, who was closest to the teleportation gate, had shed his black mourning robe, replacing it was a lavish olive tunic that draped down past his knees over a pair of silken white trousers. The tunic wasn’t without noble adornment; it was lined with aureate trimming that matched the golden sash wrapped around his waist. A bronze circlet lay snugly just above his brows while his hair fell loosely over his shoulders in a curtain of white.
Standing adjacent to the commander, the pinnacle of authority surrounding this war, were his son and father of Tess, Alduin Eralith, and his wife, Merial.
Alduin wore a silver tunic of similar decoration and design to his father’s while Merial wore an elegant silver dress obviously meant to match with her husband.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Virion said with an approving nod as he gazed at my attire.
“Commander Virion.” I dipped my head respectfully, turning toward Tess’s parents. “King Alduin and Queen Merial. It’s been a while.”
“That it has,” Alduin smiled, rubbing his chin as he regarded me with a scrutinizing eye while Merial responded with a faint nod.
I then turned to Blaine and Priscilla Glayder, the former King and Queen of Sapin.
“King Blaine and Queen Priscilla. It’s been even longer,” I said with a polite smile, bowing as much as my armor would allow me to.
Blaine had aged since the last time I saw him. More streaks of grey lined his mane of fiery maroon hair. Silken black tunic underneath large gunmetal pauldrons that covered his shoulders and collar gave him an intimidating aura. His wife, Priscilla, on the other hand, had chosen to wear a fluttery black dress lined with engravings of silver flowers. Her black hair was tied up, exposing her neck that seemed almost pure white in contrast to her dark attire.
The two kings and queens couldn’t look and feel any more different, but each of them held an air of dignity that could only stun the crowd that was waiting for them.
“You’ve grown,” Merial pointed out, her sharp eyes seeming to look through me rather than at me.
“Growing comes with age,” I replied.
“Of course it does,” Blaine grunted. “And you’ll continue to grow, not just in height but in strength, which is what I need from one of my best soldiers.”
I glanced back at Bairon and Varay, Blaine’s lances, and shook my head. “Regardless of my roots or race, with a war of this scale, I’d like to consider myself a soldier to this continent.”
“It’s finally nice to you meet you, Arthur.” An elderly dwarf that had been standing hunched alongside Virion and the two kings and queens stepped forward, getting between Blaine and me as he extended a hand.
While he only came up to my sternum, he stood ramrod straight with his shoulders squared, making him seem taller than he actually was. He had a scar that ran down the left side of his face, running through his closed left eye all the way down to his jaw. However, the eye that was open exuded a gentle quality, undermining his rugged appearance.
I accepted his large hand, noticing the sandpaper-like texture of his palms. “I apologize for my ignorance, but I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you.”
“My name is Rahdeas, and no, you haven’t,” he chuckled. “But I’ve heard quite a bit about you from the letters that Elijah sent back.”
My eyes widened in realization. “Then you must be—”
“Yes. I’m the one that took the child in when he was an infant.” He looked at me with a solemn smile that sent a sharp pain through my chest.
‘That’s Elijah’s guardian?’ Sylvie voiced in my head, surprised.
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