The rising sun cast a reddish hue over the battlefield as Derreck, the knights, and a few Walmart employees fought their lack of sleep to gather the bodies of the orcs into a central pile to burn. The acrid stench of blood, sweat, and charred flesh permeated the air. It was an unpleasant task, but necessary to prevent disease or worse—a scavenging horde of wyverns could be drawn to the fresh corpses. Derreck worked silently, his mind heavy with the implications of what had happened the night before. he had taken martial arts for several years dabbling in Kenpo Karate, then wing chun kung fu, then Fillipino martial arts, finally settling into MMA these last couple years but he was never that good even if his ego would let him believe it his heart wouldn’t so how was he this strong and agile, also these warrior instincts they went beyond his training. Then he remembered the words of the goddess, “we have really placed everything in you. You are our last hope.” He thought about the word carefully for a moment
“the blessings, the blessings of the gods, Darien Kane in his novel crossed over with the warrior’s blessings the gods gave him, like buffs in a video game but Derreck didn’t write them as a collection of skills he could level up, no they were more vague as the gods often are and much more real.”
In this world blessings of the gods were as essential as magic they gave you boosts to your physical and mental traits placing them well above what is considered normal, he now thought just how strong am I now, or fast, or smart. He really didn’t know just as Darien didn’t.
As he piled another orc body, a sharp voice cut through the din of the battlefield. "What is this filth, desecrating my lands. And what is this fortress it’s not on my tax registry of this area?"
Derreck turned to see a group of mounted men in shining armor riding across the parking lot. At the front was a young noble with a sneer plastered on his face. His silken clothes and well shined armor were far too pristine for someone who claimed to be assessing battle damage. The man looked down his nose at Derreck and the others with disdain.
"Who are you that handles this rot of flesh like a common serf and knows not when to bow in the presence of a noble, are you a peasant or knight?” there was a long blank pause from Derreck “ I see so be it Peasant knights, the lot of you!" The noble spat, in his shrill voice. "Where is the lord of this manor?"
Derreck glanced out at the pile of bodies as he thought of the man’s stupidity, he sees all this and that’s his first question, irritation flared in his chest as he wiped the sweat from his brow and fixed the noble with a cold stare. "There is no lord here, just survivors."
The noble, Derreck now fully recognized from his novel as Rupert Vargas, second son of Count Anton Vargas, Rupert sniffed disdainfully. "Survivors, you say. You look more like scavengers picking over a battlefield. Where are your manners? You will address me properly, peasant."
Before Derreck could retort, Lady Amelia, Henrick, and Paul approached, having heard the commotion. Rupert turned to face them, his sneer deepening as his gaze fell upon Lady Amelia.
"Ah, Lady Amelia Barzod," he said with a mocking bow. "I see your mission to assess Zion’s intentions in the north has failed spectacularly. There is no need now though, there's an open declaration of war that has come to pass. Zion has attacked the nation of Drezil conquering it in a single day.” He paused before grinning wildly as he took it all in “are you not excited there is war, for the first time since my father was a young man, and I will lead men into glorious battle at last. But first, I received a letter from my father this morning asking me to fetch you, if you had not already fallen prey to the fanatics of the north, you have been recalled to the kingdom of Holforth. Your father wishes you at his side at the Council of Kings."
Lady Amelia stiffened, her face unreadable. "So there can be no peace, if only we had made it to the lands of Zion maybe none of this would have happened” she stopped suddenly. her mind flashed to the words of the Cat Sith that Zion always rises. She changed the subject quickly. “on our way to the north we witnessed a great sky fall and moved in to investigate it. It led us into this encounter with the orc horde."
Rupert scoffed. "Yes the Skyfall, I’ve heard of such events happening especially in the north but saw no reason to ever pursue them at first, even if its rare minerals hold great value the risk in getting them in orc country can outweigh the benefits. I hate these lands, truly and would have sold them long ago if my father didn’t order me to manage them or risk my inheritance, I honestly wish the old bastard would just die. I wouldn't have bothered fetching you either but with my father begging me on behalf of the oath he swore to your father, I guess I was assessing my territories in the north anyway. And that is when I saw it when the large blinding light stretching across the sky, landing in the Sardar mountains in this region. I thought it surely was a sky fall larger than any recorded, a most valuable treasure to any that finds it, a path to my own inheritance out from under my father’s thumb, and that is surely worth my time, but as we rode up Begger’s Gap to where it must have fallen we instead, I find you fighting orcs in the wilderness."
Lady Amelia's expression darkened. " During that investigation we were attacked by a horde of orcs in a frenzy, I’ve never heard of a horde in such a battle frenzy without being provoked. We at first tried to speak with them and lost four of my knights them the rest of us were overwhelmed by their numbers and had no choice but to flee, in the distance we saw this place and moved to seek shelter and this man, Derreck, rode out to saved us."
Rupert turned his gaze to Derreck, sizing him up with a sneer. "This peasant? Saved you? How quaint. What did he do, trip over an orc and accidentally stab it?"
Amelia’s eyes flashed with anger. "He killed an orc champion with nothing but a dagger and charged down a horde by himself and lived to tell the tale, and more importantly his actions were committed in defense of all of us, which is more knightly than most men could dream of being in a single life and deserves respect. He was also visited by the goddess of mercy herself in mortal form and gave him a solemn vision much like Beltram of Theris in book of warrior oaths, it may sound impossible but it is all true."
Rupert let out a bark of laughter. "This peasant killing an orc champion by himself? I think you've been out in the wilds too long, Lady Amelia. Perhaps you’ve caught some green fever from these wretched beasts. And to speak of the goddess in such a way could be called heresy if it were brought before the church. That is of course if you even come back at all, anything can happen in the wilderness, and I also am well within my rights to deal with heretics after all"
Derreck's hand tightened around the orc helmet he had been holding, he had enough of this, he knew who this brat was, and what he would do to Varinja if he was left unchecked. Without warning, Derreck hurled the helmet at Rupert's head. The helmet struck with a dull thud, knocking Rupert clean off his horse. Before anyone could react, Derreck pounced on him like a predator, fists flying, ground and pound they called it back home but here it looked like carnage.
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Rupert barely had time to scream before Derreck's fists pummeled his face and chest. Blood spurted from Rupert's nose, and his eyes swelled shut. His soldiers watched in stunned silence as their entitled lord who had ordered them to instill fear and terror in the people of this land many times was now reduced to a bloodied mess beneath Derreck’s onslaught. Before they could react, Derreck drew his hunting knife, the cold steel glinting in the light of the morning sun, the very knife he used on the orc champion, and pressed it against Rupert's throat.
"You wouldn't kill me," Rupert gasped,
hoarse with fear. "I'm a count's son. My father will—"
"Your father isn’t here, and anything can happen in the wilderness like you said" Derreck growled. "You would left Amelia to die in that same wilderness because saving her was beneath you or maybe just a waste of time instead you want to chase down a sky fall to get out from under your father’s shadow, but now it’s easier to kill her and all these people and claim her as a heretic as you claim to be doing the goddess’s work while you sell off whatever you gain from raiding this place for a hefty profit, either way your duty is fulfilled. There’s nothing noble about you. You’re a lazy, entitled, coward, and now I’m gonna make you choke on that fucking silver spoon."
Rupert trembled beneath Derreck's weight, his voice cracking. "Please… don’t kill me. I’ll give you anything—anything you want."
Derreck paused for a moment then smiled coldly, a plan had now formed. "Anything?"
"Yes," Rupert whispered. "Anything."
"Fine," Derreck said. "I'll take everything. Your money, your titles, your soldiers, your lands. Everything."
Rupert nodded frantically, his face was pale with terror as a pool of urine spread out beneath him. "Anything you want. Just let me live."
Derreck looked up at Rupert’s scribe, who stood nearby, paralyzed with fear. "Write it down," Derreck commanded. "From this day forward, Rupert Vargas renounces all he has to me."
“your… your name sir” the scribe responded in a cracking high voice
“Derreck Langston” Derreck paused for a moment as he searched for the right words then they came to him as well as a plane to explain all this later when he would eventually come before the Council of Kings. “Derreck Langston of Atalantha.”
All of the surrounding knights gasped at his words as Paul stood there just confused but he was following Derreck’s lead on this, by now he knew to just go with it and Derreck would steer them out of trouble, maybe he could use Derreck like when he was just a garden associate before all this happened. Only the scribe was still moving, he was shaking but his hand kept writing out of fear. Rupert groaned in pain as the scribe finished, he handed the decree to Rupert, who fumbled for a wax nub to use his signet ring. Before he could find it, Derreck had a better way, he grabbed Rupert’s left hand cutting his palm, he then smeared the blood into the crevices of Rupert’s ring and pressed it onto the document.
"This will do," Derreck said.
Derreck stood up inspecting the document as a shaky Rupert finally got to his feet, after finally gained his composure, he yelled at his men. "Shackle him! Place this peasant in chains!"
But the soldiers didn’t move. They merely looked at their captain, who shook his head.
Rupert screamed again, his voice cracking with desperation. "I am your lord! Obey me, or you’ll all be flogged!"
The captain of Rupert’s knights, a young but determined man with a scar running down his cheek and long flowing blonde hair, stepped forward. "You have no honor, Lord Rupert. And I followed long enough serving a man with no honor, I served the house of Vargus until my lord gave you my commission, and oh the great horrors you did have me commit in your name, then you foolishly signed over that commission in a moment of cowardness and fear, by what right do you order me now. you have no rights, your just a peasant son of a count now."
The rest of Rupert’s soldiers stood silent, falling in line behind their captain. Rupert looked around, panic gripping his heart. His authority had slipped away, his command crumbled before his eyes.
"Fine!" Rupert spat, his voice trembling with impotent rage. "keep this treacherous rabble, I shall leave this cursed place with my retainers and when I return I shall see you all hanged."
"My retainers, and my everything else too" Derreck corrected, his voice sharp as a blade.
Rupert’s face turned pale as he realized his situation. He had nothing left—no soldiers, no wealth, not even a horse. In a last act of compliance, he removed his armor and tossed it at Derreck’s feet.
"You’ll regret this," Rupert muttered, storming off on foot, his torn and bloodied clothes hanging off his body like rags.
Derreck watched him leave, his anger slowly dissipating. He knew Rupert well from his novel. He was a man who lived off the achievements of his father, using his name and wealth to manipulate others. In the novel, Rupert would have eventually betrayed the nations of Virinja leading his father’s army into an ambush as he switched sides to Zion during a pivotal battle which lost the north of the peninsula. Darien Kane had killed him in two separate regressions because of his treachery. Derreck didn’t know why he spared him now he guessed because he hadn’t done anything yet, but at least Rupert's power was neutralized before it could become a problem.
Lady Amelia, still reeling from the events, stepped forward. "That was…"
She paused, searching for the right words. "You fought for my honor. And yet, you still refuse my pledge. Why?"
Derreck didn’t answer. His heart felt heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired. It wasn’t just about honor or survival. He was walking a tightrope between what he knew from his novel and his present reality, one filled with dangers he could only partially predict based on what he knew, Lady Ameila never went to the north in all three regressions and certainly was never attacked by a horde of orcs, even Rupert Vargas’s presence was a mystery, what was going on here. It was like this was a separate regression wholly different from the three he knew.
As the group resumed their grim task of burning the orc bodies the captain of Rupert’s knights broke the obvious tension between Ameila and Derreck. He approached Derreck and saluted. "Captain Clyde Lassiter of the Free Companies, now at your service. My men and I are under contract for another three years to the lord of these lands, and by my honor, that is you."
Derreck nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Clyde and his soldiers were now another variable addition in the ever-expanding equation of this world. He needed to keep them alive, all of them somehow.
Lady Amelia and her knights had also finished their prayers, and as they regrouped, Lady Ameila’s healer Lady Ashley Raznik began chanting protection spells over the burning corpses to keep them from becoming wandering spirits while she held her talisman of Elsbeth firmly. As the flames flickered and crackled, a hush fell over the group, broken only by the sound of crackling fire.
Finally, Lady Amelia turned to Derreck. "This place… it's unlike any fortress I’ve ever seen. Is this place really Atalantha? And just who are all of you, really?"
Paul at first tried to explain by then Derreck finally said.
"This is the Floating Fortress of Atalantha you may have heard of it."
Gasps rippled through the knights. The legend of Atalantha, a mythical fortress said to have disappeared in the golden age of Virinja, was well known. It was said to be filled with wondrous items crafted by gnomes that could be found nowhere else, a place so rich and powerful that the nations around it had banded together to conquer it. In the legend, the wizard king Argos had cast a spell so powerful that it cost him his life to save his people. It transported the fortress away to a safe place but the spell worked to well and now the fortress travels from place to place leaving behind only legends.
"That explains your courage and how you would sacrifice all for your people," Lady Amelia said softly. "The knights of Atalantha, living legends."
Derreck looked to Paul, who had stepped forward but said nothing knowing that whatever Derreck was talking about would be to their benefit, Paul thought that Derreck played this diplomatic game well and if what that cat creature said was true his for-knowledge of events would keep them all alive at least.
Derreck’s mind raced as he considered the path ahead. Rupert Vargas’s betrayal was neutralized at least, but it was clear now the war was starting Zion was on the march now and His foreknowledge as different this regression now was, it was their best advantage and he needed to use it wisely.