Parallel (A Virtual Gamer's Story) [Vol.1 - Vol.4 Complete]

Chapter 124: Prelude to War

24th Muriel, 1093.

Roughly fifteen hundred kilometers northwest of Aygor's Citadel, a young wisben named Iralu Mend tapped his sleeping companion's shoulder as he watched a river the duo had taken to calling 'Devil's Hook.'

On a typical day, Iralu observed the gigantic creatures that occasionally burst out of the river with awe

Today, however, the sea was quiet. Far too quiet. And Iralu knew why.

Teeth chattering, Iralu had to resist an urge to punch his companion awake as a fleet of boats bigger than any he had ever laid eyes on rushed onto the shore, night-black hulls imposing even under the afternoon sun. Considering this was that river, there was no question about who the arrivals were. His suspicions further confirmed when companies of red armored soldiers descended from the boats' largest onto the sandy beach.

The young scout further paled as hundreds of beastmen and mercenaries descended from the other boats. The difference in the two armies apparent in the disciplined order by which the red army moved, neatly arranging themselves in tight formation soon as foot met the sand.

The other army led by Orthana was much laxer with their formation. Some even laughed and boasted of their expectations of the battle to come.

"Wh-what's going on?" A soft voice whispered from the side.

Iralu spared his waking partner a glance. The young cerulian woman brushed hair the color of sand out the way of amber eyes, which held traces of wariness and excitement. Corinne Fuze, just past twenty years of age, was a graduate of the only functioning academy in Rosendun. She had dragged Iralu Mend, who had the fortune(?) of graduating in the same year into The Hopeful Maggots as she 'felt the winds blowing.' "They are already here?"

"It was as the General thought," Iralu muttered as he turned his attention back to the enemy at the shore. A red-haired man who seemed to be the red army's General was having some discussion with Orthana. Unfortunately, given the distance, Iralu could not hear what was said. "If the enemy was to come by sea, there are very few places they could alight."

"Hehe, those poor guys," Corinne said with a mischievous smirk, thinking of the soldiers posted at the other potential exit points. "I'm afraid they have all waited for nothing. We'll be the ones bagging the merit this time."

'I would rather not be anywhere close to the enemy.' Although Iralu felt this way in his heart, he could not say it out loud. He knew how ambitious and hot-headed his partner could get. All saying that out loud would do is get him lectured on how he has to set his sights higher in life, and no reward comes without risk and bla bla bla...

Iralu kept his gaze on the army below, estimating their size. His brows furrowed upon realizing the red army were only a thousand men strong, not counting the obvious War Bards. As General Absalon said, if the enemy's numbers were too small, they had trump cards of some sort, or they were indeed strong enough to handle armies five times their size.

Although neither of these options was comforting, Iralu knew it was not his job to worry over these big decisions—nor did he want to for that matter. He would make his report and then leave it to the General to figure out the rest.

Iralu took out the standard-issue rink from his backpack, a small smile on his face as he relished in one of the comforts of joining with a guild. Things like rinks were much too difficult for the common populace to get their hands on due to their limited numbers, and researchers had not yet found a method of faithfully manufacturing new ones.

Iralu had heard rumors down the grapevine that their guild leader had succeeded in making something similar that could transport voices between two Rinks, but he would not believe it until he saw it with his own eyes.