To conceal the true location of their base, the team always spent time teleporting randomly across the world after a mission before riding back on horseback. The teleportation fees were small but added up over time, a necessary expense.
While wandering through the muddy dirt roads of the Omar Kingdom in the Central Region, they stumbled upon an unusual scene. Over a dozen fully armed cavalry were chasing a fleeing woman. One of the riders drew a javelin and hurled it, piercing her calf and pinning her to the ground. Cold as it might seem, Norbert initially had no intention of intervening. Getting involved in another nation’s affairs was a hassle.
So, Norbert and his team rode past the fallen woman and the cavalry as if nothing was amiss.Unfortunately, the cavalry surrounded them.
“I’m not interested in your kingdom’s business,” Norbert said.
The cavalry raised their weapons, and a figure in distinct deep purple armor, different from the others, spoke: “The Queen’s orders are to leave no survivors.”
“Can’t you understand? I said we’re not interested in your kingdom’s affairs. We’re from the Brown Legion.” Ignoring Norbert’s words, the cavalry attacked.
“What a pain. Yuris, summon the puppets. I can’t handle more than two at a time,” Norbert said.
As Yuris’s puppets fended off the cavalry, Norbert gave the next order.
“Use blunt weapons. Regular swords won’t pierce that armor.”
Azmond replied, “Didn’t you only bring a sword? You okay?”
“I’ll make do,” Norbert said, his swings heavy but effective. After a chaotic struggle, the battle ended. Yuris went to tend to the injured woman, while Norbert and Azmond searched the cavalry’s belongings. “You can keep the money. If I take it back, I’ll have to explain where it came from. The armor doesn’t fit, and it’s way too heavy to haul,” Norbert said.
He picked up the lead cavalry’s sword and continued, “I’ll take this sword.” With that, he discarded his own sword, heavily damaged from the fight. Its blade was jagged like a saw, and the hilt was battered from being used as a bludgeon.
“How’s she doing, Yuris?” Norbert asked.
Yuris shook his head. “Dead. But the child’s fine.”
“Child?” Norbert said.
He hadn’t noticed earlier, but now he sensed a faint presence. Norbert approached and looked closely. A boy, half his body wrapped in cloth, trembled uncontrollably, crying softly in fear without making much sound.
“What now?” Azmond asked.
“Those cavalry were probably after him. Since we saved him by chance, let’s take him back,” Norbert said.
Crouching down, Norbert addressed the boy. “You’re old enough to walk, right? If you want to survive, come with us.”
The boy shakily followed Norbert, who eventually lifted him onto the saddle.
“Just sit tight for now,” Norbert said.
[Find the Child of Destiny: 1/X
- Augustine Aurelianus]
The System’s panel appeared before Norbert’s eyes. Was this boy the Child of Destiny? He couldn’t tell what was so special about him but then again, how many could say they were extraordinary from childhood?
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They began cleaning up the aftermath.
“There’s barely anything useful. But this armor is high-quality, it would be a bit of a waste to just leave it. Yuris, you know alchemy, right? Can you break it down into raw materials?” Norbert asked.
“My alchemy’s not great. It’ll take time to convert,” Yuris replied.
“Then load the armor onto the horse and work on it while we travel. Burn the bodies. And let’s avoid routes through the Omar Kingdom,” Norbert instructed.
To avoid trouble, they took a detour, delaying their journey and forcing them to camp at the border for the night.
“Yuris, focus on your alchemy. No need to use magic every time to start a fire,” Norbert said.
A pot, a fire, and a bit of water. Toss in some grains, and a simple meal for the night was ready. They also carried biscuits harder than stone and dried meat.
“Eat something,” Norbert said, handing the boy a bowl with extra dried meat.
“Forget what you should, but hold onto what you shouldn’t. That’s all I can do for you.” With that, Norbert gave the boy his mother’s keepsake.
Clutching the memento, the boy’s long-suppressed grief burst forth. Exhausted from crying, he drifted toward sleep.
“Hey, kid, what’s your name?” Norbert asked.
“Augustine,” the boy mumbled.
“Aurelianus?”
Augustine nodded silently.
“We should reach our destination tomorrow. I’m turning in. Wake me in four hours for the next shift,” Norbert said.
After lulling the boy to sleep, Norbert himself dozed off. In his dreams, the System’s panel pestered him, disrupting his rest.
“Allocate your points already,” an unfamiliar voice said from behind the panel. “Points aren’t just for attributes—they can do a lot more.”
“Do it however you want. I don’t care,” Norbert instructed.
“As you wish.”
The disturbances stopped after that. But Norbert had a strange dream. A faint voice whispered in his ear, but nothing it said remained in his memory when he awoke.
At the appointed time, they set off. Despite calculating the detour’s delay, they were behind schedule, but at last they reached a teleportation gate.
They’re a relic from the distant past, once blanketing the world. Sadly, few remained. Those that did were central fixtures in the capitals of great nations. Unlike the teleportation arrays, these required almost no magic to activate even though it uses the exact same network. The surviving gates retained their connections, allowing travel to any linked destination with a thought. In theory, three numerical “coordinates” could take you anywhere, but everyone who tried were lost in the ether.
The sole exception was the Brown Legion.
After paying the fee, they stepped through the gate. Norbert stared at the ring on his left index finger, waiting for the gem to display the right numbers, then spoke the coordinates.
“█████.”
They passed through an illusionary barrier, emerging at the Eternal Fortress. So named by its founders to reflect their wish when they built the place.
Encircled by the sky-piercing mountains, accessible by a single path, the fortress’s walls were built from the finest materials, nearly untouched by time. Within, every resource was available. If they so wished they could completely wall themselves off and still thrive. Under siege, it could withstand attackers for generations—an impregnable masterpiece.
“This is the heart of the Brown Legion. It’s where you’ll live from now on. There’ll be an initiation ceremony soon, but until then, settle in,” Norbert told Augustine.
After giving instructions, Norbert left Augustine with the newcomers’ ward and went to report to the Legion’s commander.
Norbert detailed their earnings, encounters, and events, which the administrative captain recorded. Once finished, he stepped out.
Norbert asked, “Do we really need to take outside missions? The pay is decent for a small team, but for our scale, it’s a drop in the bucket. We could be self-sufficient here.”
“We have a duty to remain engaged with the world until our final mission is complete,” the commander replied. “Speaking of which, you brought back a new recruit yourself this time, didn’t you?”
Norbert nodded, and the commander continued, “Fair enough. It’s time you learned more, since you’re my successor. Long ago, the Brown Legion was founded to fight the demon race. They nearly consumed this land, but with our help, humanity triumphed.”
“I know that much,” Norbert said.
“We avoid worldly conflicts because of our founder’s prophecy: ‘The gateway to the demon realm will one day reopen, and the demons will invade again.’”
“You mean…” Norbert trailed off.
“Exactly. I feel that prophecy is nearing in my lifetime. To prepare, after the next initiation ceremony, the Legion will cease taking missions. Only a couple of teams will stay abroad to monitor the situation. The rest will all return here.”