Summoning Earth [Hiatus]

Chapter 23: Twilight of Empires

Capital Paris, France, Europe – July 8, 2023

The low hum of turbojet engines echoed across the cloudy Parisian sky as the Holy Mirishial delegation's aircraft approached Charles de Gaulle Airport. Unlike the sleek, modern airliners of Earth, these machines were bulky, rugged, and almost nostalgic—resembling the early Cold War-era aircraft of Earth's history. Painted in the blue and silver insignia of the Holy Mirishial Empire, the fleet of diplomatic planes banked gently over the sprawling city, revealing a view that no Mirishial had ever imagined.

Inside the lead aircraft, Perclas, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, sat near the window, his hands resting on the wooden armrests of his seat. He was a composed man, but even he could not hide the curiosity in his eyes as he peered outside. Paris—the famed capital of France, the heart of Earth's cultural and political power—spread out beneath him like a living masterpiece of history and modernity intertwined.

"This city..." Siwalf, the Chief of the Western International Affairs Department, muttered from across the aisle. "It stretches as far as the eye can see. And those buildings... none of them are enchanted, yet they rise even higher than our tallest towers in Runepolis."

Perclas nodded slowly. "This world continues to defy our understanding. First, their weapons... now their cities. And yet, they have no magic. Only... industry and science."

As the aircraft descended, the landing gear screeched against the tarmac, and the Mirishial officials braced for the unfamiliar sensation of touching down on foreign soil. It was their first official step into Earth's heartland—a world that had not only humbled them but now dictated the very terms of their future.

The moment the Mirishial delegation stepped off the plane, they were met with the crisp summer air of Paris. Unlike the warm, humid climate of Runepolis, the weather here felt cooler, refreshing, yet oddly foreign. French diplomats, escorted by armed security personnel, stood ready to receive them. Cameras flashed as international media covered their arrival—Earth's eyes locked onto the once-mighty empire that had been brought to the negotiating table.

Perclas took in the sight of the modern airport, its runways teeming with sleek, streamlined aircraft, far different from the bulky, robust designs of Mirishial's own. Even as a high-ranking official, he had rarely felt out of place. Yet here, in the heart of Earth's power, he felt like a man from a bygone era, walking among giants.

"Welcome to Paris," a French diplomat greeted them in fluent Mirishialian, bowing slightly. "We trust your flight was comfortable?"

Perclas, maintaining his composure, nodded. "It was... enlightening."

They were quickly led toward a convoy of black diplomatic vehicles, their engines humming almost silently compared to the loud, enchanted carriages of Mirishial. As they boarded, Perclas cast one last glance at their aging aircraft, standing awkwardly among the futuristic machines of Earth.

It was a visual reminder—the old world was fading, and the new one had already taken its place.

The convoy made its way into the heart of the city, and for the first time, the Mirishial delegation witnessed the full splendor of Earth's civilization up close. Towering skyscrapers, intricate roads with speeding vehicles, electronic billboards flashing advertisements in countless languages—everything about Paris screamed modernity, efficiency, and a civilization at its peak.

Perclas sat beside Siwalf, watching as the city unfolded before them.

"Look at their roads," Siwalf noted. "No cobblestone, no magic guiding their paths, yet everything moves in perfect coordination."

"And their people," Perclas added, observing the pedestrians. "They're dressed so differently. No robes, no magical crests. Just... practicality. And yet, the wealth is evident."