Chapter 43: Learning About the World Part 1

Lyra turned to her two tribal elders and gave them a soft nod. "Oversee the distribution of the supplies and help our wounded warriors settle into the healing tents. I will handle matters here."

"Understood, Lady Lyra," the feline elder replied, placing a hand over his chest before leading the other elder out of the command post.

John signaled to Sergeant First Class Ritcher at the entrance. "Secure the perimeter, Sergeant. Make sure we aren’t disturbed."

"Copy that, boss. We’ve got outer security locked tight," Ritcher replied, stepping outside and closing the heavy canvas flap behind him.

John gestured toward an adjoining partition that led into a smaller, quieter briefing tent. Inside, a simple folding table, two cushioned camp chairs, and a battery-powered lantern provided a quiet, isolated space away from the noise of military generators and bustling logistics.

John pulled out a chair for Lyra before taking a seat opposite her. He rested his hands on the table, exhaling a quiet breath.

"First of all, Lady Lyra," John began, his tone noticeably softer than the formal cadence he had used during the treaty signing. "I want to apologize for being so hasty with the diplomatic and military agreements. You and your people just went through a horrific attack, and thrusting treaties and logistics in your face right after the smoke cleared was aggressive on my part."

Lyra looked at him, slightly taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. The cold, unyielding commander who had calmly ordered the destruction of an entire imperial vanguard now seemed entirely approachable and genuinely considerate.

John continued, his eyes meeting hers with sincere respect. "I also want to express my deepest condolences for the loss of your husband, Keith. From what my scouts saw during the initial engagement, he fought to his very last breath to protect his people. He was a brave leader."

A faint, sorrowful expression softened Lyra’s sharp features. Her ears lowered slightly, but she held her chin up with unwavering dignity.

"Thank you, Commander Smith," Lyra said softly, placing a hand over her heart. "Your words bring comfort to my spirit. But you do not need to apologize for moving quickly with the alliance. In our world, hesitation brings death. Had you waited days to act, the remnants of the empire might have regrouped or our wounded might have perished."

She took a slow breath, looking toward the lantern light.

"As for Keith... he died as a true wolfkin warrior. He went down with his fangs bared and his claws stained with the blood of our enemies, shielding our cubs from the slavers. In our ancestral traditions, there is no greater honor for a chieftain than to fall defending the clan. I will mourn him in private when the moon rises, but as the surviving leader of the Ironclaw, my duty is to ensure his sacrifice was not in vain."

John nodded slowly, respecting her strength. "Understood. He will be remembered."

Lyra straightened her posture, shifting back into the mindset of a tribal ruler. "Now, Commander. You mentioned there were sensitive matters regarding the Holy Solarian Empire that you wished to discuss in private. What is it you need to know?"

John leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the folding table.

"I need intelligence," John stated plainly. "Specifically regarding the broader geography of this world and the true layout of the Holy Solarian Empire. Do you or your lorekeepers have any comprehensive world maps, nautical charts, or border surveys?"

Lyra gave a helpless, dry chuckle and shook her head.

"I am afraid you will be sorely disappointed if you seek a grand world map from us, Commander," Lyra answered. "We demi-humans do not produce parchment charts of the wider world. To my people, the land is lived in, not measured and drawn on paper. Our knowledge extends only as far as our hunters run and our trade caravans travel."

"What about the merchants who pass through your port?" John asked.

"Merchant ships from independent coastal city-states visit our bay once or twice a year to trade salt, ironware, and grain in exchange for timber, peltries, and raw medicinal herbs," Lyra explained. "They carry crude harbor charts, but none of them possess knowledge of the entire world. The human kings and the church guard their cartography like royal gold. However, through the tales of wandering bards, seafaring traders, and ancestral lore, we know the basic shape of things."

"Tell me what you know," John said, listening intently.

"The world is divided by a colossal body of water called the Endless Azure Ocean," Lyra said, tracing a line on the smooth tabletop with her clawed index finger. "Across that ocean, far to the east, lies the Eastern Continent. That is the cradle of the human race. It is a land of massive walled cities, towering stone cathedrals, and ancient feudal kingdoms. The Holy Solarian Empire sits at the very heart of the Eastern Continent."

John processed the information methodically.

So the Holy Solarian Empire wasn’t native to this land at all. They had mounted a cross-oceanic colonial expedition across the sea to establish a beachhead on this western landmass.

"And where are we right now?" John asked.

"We reside on the coast of the Great Western Continent," Lyra replied, gesturing outward. "Unlike the east, this continent is wild, untamed, and ancient. It is home to hundreds of independent beastkin clans, elven forest realms, dwarven mountain holds, and vast unclaimed territories. The humans view this entire continent as a lawless frontier ripe for conquest and resource harvesting."

Two massive primary continents separated by a vast ocean, John noted mentally. The Eastern Continent is dominated by human feudal empires and the church, while the Western Continent is a fragmented expanse of demi-human tribes, non-human realms, and wild frontiers.

It was a classic colonial dynamic. The Holy Solarian Empire was attempting to expand its dominion westward across the ocean, using religious righteousness as an excuse to enslave the native populations and extract the land’s wealth.

John paused, considering his next question carefully.

When he and the Japanese class had been summoned by Goddess Viona in the imperial cathedral, the golden deity had proclaimed with grand theatrical tears that humanity was on the brink of total annihilation at the hands of an overwhelming Demon Lord. That had been the justification for tearing a classroom of modern teenagers from Earth and turning them into weapons of war.

John had no intention of revealing his identity as a summoned otherworlder just yet, but he needed to verify if that threat was even real.

"During our reconnaissance," John spoke in a neutral, inquiring tone, "we picked up rumors and fragmented imperial records mentioning a hostile faction known as the Demon Race. Do they exist on this continent?"

Lyra’s ears twitched slightly, her expression turning somber.

"They exist," Lyra confirmed, nodding slowly. "Though calling them a unified empire would be an exaggeration. The demons—or the Fiendkin, as our elders call them—are harsh, aggressive races imbued with raw, chaotic mana. But they do not reside anywhere near the human empires across the eastern sea."

"Where are they located?"

"At the extreme northern edge of this continent," Lyra said, pointing toward the ceiling. "Beyond the Great Ashpine Forests and past the Jagged Frostfang Mountains lies the Northern Blightlands. It is a frozen, desolate tundra where dark mana corrupts the earth. That is where the demon tribes build their strongholds."

"How far is that from our current position?" John asked.

Lyra let out a soft sigh. "If an experienced hunter mounted on a swift horned steed were to depart today, traveling through uncharted monster territories and hostile mountain passes without stopping... the journey north would take nearly a full year. Perhaps even longer on foot."

"I see, so it’s connected to this continent? Could it be that they invaded you so that your territory could be set up as their staging ground?"

"I don’t know truly if it’s connected to this continent. There’s no historical accounts that the demon race is in this continent."

"So there could be another mainland on the north, separated perhaps by a strait..." John inferred. "Well that could be plausible."