Wearing Power Armor to a Magic School (160/?) WiP 1

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Here is the Work in Progress for Chapter 160 I hope you guys enjoy! :D The revised version for Chapter 159 will be releasing tomorrow some time before the full release of Chapter 160! :D I was trying something kind of ambitious with Thalmin's introduction here as I wanted to integrate a bit of one of my favorite poems with Thalmin's internal monologue. I hope it worked! But whether or not it lands, please feel free to tell me! I'm really not sure if it worked and I was really considering either going for a more typical straightforward intro, or keeping this more poetic one. ^^;

Thalmin

“I wish to know where you stand when the calls for apocalypse summon the righteous, Prince Thalmin? I wish to know, should your assertions bear truth, and should the newrealm move from a position of a mere contemporary to one of an active adversary - where shall your loyalties lie?”

Ilunor’s words have always been vapid.

Yet there was one rare instance — one tiny sliver of genuine questioning — that defied this trend, leaving behind a thought so pervasive it has remained lodged in my mind ever since.

This seedling of a question, once planted, took root in the soil of my contempt, watered by the rains of Emma’s revelations, and warmed beneath the sun of every offense committed by the Nexus.

Under these conditions, it thrived.

With each social slight it spread wider.

With every insult it flourished.

With every dishonor it grew, until the soil which bore my contempt was cast beneath its comforting shade.

Yet there was something else amidst the growing branches that I dared not yet touch; a fruit born of hate, contempt, vitriol, and the indignancy of a people scorned.

It beckoned me with its smiles.

It called with soft and fair-seeming wiles.

It promised me an escape… though one which I knew I could not yet tempt for fear of fate.

Yet still my hunger grew, my gaze remaining fixed, upon an apple shining bright. 

…

But all that changed.

And it was with Ilunor’s words still fresh in my mind that I made my choice. A decision which could, and assuredly would, come to haunt me for years past my mortal life.

I reached for the apple.

And ‘Nexian Sacrifice’ I was, no longer.

For the moment I uttered my litany of titles, I committed myself to the fruit of rebellion.

And when I reforged my sacrificial title to my own resolve—

Royal Emissary for the Havenbrockian Cause.

—did I taste the sweetness of the fruit I’d just bitten.

That one reimagining, that single rephrasing of a title so confined to its fate was in equal measures liberating as much as it was terrifying. This was in spite of the lack of witnesses save for allies under oath, which perhaps proved just how pervasive the Nexian dogma was, even in the confines of my own mind.

But what compelled me, what pushed my otherwise duty-bound self over the edge of indecision wasn’t just the memories of Emma’s bardic regalings or the proof of her capacity to kill.

No.

It was something far more innocuous, something that perhaps could both be overlooked and taken for granted in passing conversation.

It was the candid reactions of her superiors, her betters, and her seniors — those with the authority, the responsibility, and the knowledge of her realm’s true capabilities. Or more accurately… it was their restraint for reaction.

The pointed manner in which this Captain Li had just casually listed the Nexus’ threshold of destruction — ‘city-killers, continent busters’ — it  beckoned forth the imagery of an officer listing off a weapons manifest for a city garrison… not a man coming to terms with a mighty adversary’s realm-shattering capabilities.

Indeed, the analytical nature that followed in the practical consideration of the bag-of-holding ‘bombs’ felt almost too cold, too calculated, and too mundane.

It felt… as if they were considering something that they themselves not only held the capacity for, but had entirely normalized within their own manaless arsenals.

Moreover, there was no sense of ego mixed in with these discussions. There was no boasting or grandstanding. If anything, the restraint at play spoke far louder than any posturing, for it called upon both a seriousness of intent and simply reinforced the relative normalcy of such capacities for destruction.

It was only at the mention of portals that the humans found themselves in uncharted waters, as fear, genuine fear, started to color their voices.

And even then, such a revelation didn’t start from its offensive capabilities, but its logistical angle.

There is something your Uncle, your Brothers, and even your own Father won’t ever give enough credit to, Thalmin. Though it is to no fault of their own, but to the reductive image they craft. That something… is the manner in which you keep a war won. Because even in the most mage-centric of armies, logistics still win wars. Oh you can have the most boastful of Dukes, Barons, and Lords go on and on about simply circumventing such ‘trifling’ topics by bruteforcing magical solutions… but at the end of the day, when you wish to consolidate your holdings? When you have successfully laid claim to two or more large towns? You find that you alone cannot stitch together a civilization. For that, you need logisticians. For that, you need people like me.

Kalin was right, as she often was.

Though I could only begin to imagine what she’d make of a realm built entirely on the will of logisticians.

This Captain Li had perfectly embodied the mindset of Earthrealm.

A people so lacking in any capacity to will forth their desires, and thus necessitating complexities to underpin everything those desires need for actualization.

A people who not only knew the mechanisms of war, but placed emphasis where those mechanisms truly mattered.

A people… who likewise considered the realm-shattering capacities of the Nexus a point worth discussing, and not a point that shattered spirits.

This was the proof I needed from Emma.

These were the people I could consider a worthy adversary to the Nexus.

These were a people deserving of Ilunor’s prophecy, a civilization deserving of the title of the Adversary, the Great Other.

=====

Laura Weir

First a dragon, and now an anthropomorphic wolf.

Though I wouldn’t be as reductive as some others, just by appearances and sights alone.

Convergent evolution aside, it was his manner of dress that gave me more pause for thought than the nature of his physiology.

What’s more, my focus quickly shifted towards a palpable pause in the EVI’s translations, a fact reflected in the underlying inflections of the prince’s own native speech.

His latter title, that loaded sentiment, was a calculated maneuver for this eventuality.

This royal wanted to play ball.

And judging by many of Emma’s reports, it was clear what angle we needed to take.

The Adjacent Realms… were the only receptive party open to diplomacy, and the only party with the capacity for receptive change.

This was where the conflict was to be waged, in the kingdoms and nations under the jackboot of Nexian imperialism.

And it all would start — at least on our end — with a smile the wolf could not see. “It is a great privilege and an incredible honor to hear your voice, Prince Thalmin Havenbrock of Havenbrockrealm. My name is Dr. Laura Weir, Director of the Institute of Anomalous Studies, United Nations Science Advisory. Professor of Theoretical Physics at Luna University, Armstrong Campus. On behalf of the Greater United Nations, and on behalf of the people of Earth, Venus, Mars, Saturn, Jupiter, to the entirety of Sol, and to all the corners that humanity calls home, we receive you with full respect, and acknowledge the sovereignty of the state from which you hail.” I announced with genuine, brimming excitement, and a warmness that came naturally at the hope of our first ally.