CH 286 – It’s All Fun and War Games (Part 6)

“Is that all you packed, or do you have an interdimensional pocket I don’t know about?” Augustus asked.

He was waiting at the trolley station below, half-sitting against the hip-height black iron fence that enclosed the arrival area. He wore his official crimson-red robes, and a pair of silver-framed, circular shades sat atop his nose, obscuring his eyes and reflecting the early dawn light.

His reflective sunglasses reminded me of Chase’s.

I sighted, remembering the lunatic back in my own realm. Perhaps a small part of me even missed him. Chase Daylan was a lunatic through and through, but he was my lunatic. He was a friend. A best friend, even, according to him.

But instead of having that nutcase beside me, producing cake out of thin air or reminiscing about some explosion he’d pulled off, I was here, marching toward a war I had learned about only two days ago and whose outcome I had very little vested interest in. Aside from surviving, of course.

“Yes,” I replied, dropping my right hand from the handle of my backpack. “This is all of it. I didn’t have much to pack in the first place.”

Augustus lowered the shades down the bridge of his nose, exposing his green eyes.

He looked me over and squinted. “…Do you not own any civilian clothing?”

I glanced down at myself.

I was wearing the Rosel Academy uniform: dark blue pants, a white shirt, a striped blue tie, and a blue jacket. Even my shoes had been provided by the academy.

“I have a suit good enough to wear to a wedding,” I replied.

I had attended Micah’s wedding only a little over a week ago, and yet it felt years ago now.

Augustus rubbed his right fingers against his chin, his gaze sharpening with the same calculating expression that Micah sometimes had.

“The optics aren’t ideal,” he said. “The kingdom sending off a student to the front lines… hmm.”

He pushed himself away from the iron fence and adjusted his crimson robes.

“Let’s do a little shopping first,” Augustus stated. “Feliz on Hornet Street owes me a favor, so we can get you dressed for free and then head out.”

I smirked.

If the optics were so poor, perhaps they should have considered that before sending me there in the first place.

I sighed and shook the thought away.

There was little benefit in continuing this bitter line of questioning.

I followed Augustus away from the trolley station and onto the empty street beyond. The shops were all clearly closed, and only a handful of people moved along the stone walkways. They were likely servants, early merchants, or those who were still up from the night before, only now making their way to their beds.

It was the weekend after all, and far too early for most city dwellers to be awake.

A thought occurred to me.

“Isn’t it a bit too early for a tailor?” I asked.

Augustus turned his head toward me, and his reflective lenses caught the morning sun.

“As I said,” he replied, likely with a wink, though I couldn’t see. “He owes me a favor.”

***

“So good to have you! Ah… ha ha. I apologize for my appearance.”

Before us stood a smiling short man with a shiny bald head and a large wild grey mustache that appeared in terrible need of a comb. He was still in his silk maroon pajamas, with mismatching socks on his feet.

“No problem,” Augustus replied.

He did not apologize for waking the man up.

“Feliz, I need a week’s worth of clothing for this young man,” Augustus continued, getting straight to business. “We’ll be heading south, and having a student engage in battle would be poor optics.”

Feliz produced a golden monocle from somewhere inside his pajama pocket and raised it to one eye. He looked me over, his gaze zipping quickly from my academy jacket to my shoes.

“Yes,” he said gravely. “Very poor optics indeed.”

“So I need him dressed properly,” Augustus said. “With embedded protections.”

“Military attire?” Feliz asked.

His hand was already reaching toward the enormous wall-to-wall closet behind him. He opened one of the doors, revealing rows of dark coats, reinforced boots, and garments covered in brass buttons.

“No, nothing like that,” Augustus replied. “He is my protégé, not another expendable battle mage. I need him dressed such that he commands the right amount of respect.”

“Ah, of course.” Feliz shut the first door at once and opened another.

Once again, his right arm disappeared into the closet, which by now I had realized was no ordinary closet. I stared as he began drawing out articles of clothing that I was quite certain had not been hanging there a moment ago. A dark coat. Several shirts. Trousers. Gloves. A crimson red vest with fine golden stitching.

I blinked at the clothing thrust into my arms.

“They’re all the right size,” Augustus assured me. “Feliz can tell one’s measurements at a glance. And he has impeccable taste.”

Feliz proudly twirled one side of his messy mustache.

“Change into this.” Augustus selected one outfit from the pile and motioned toward a curtained area near the back of the shop. “The rest we’ll pack.”

With a swish of his fingers, the pile in my arms neatly arranged itself on a nearby counter.

***

“What do you think?” I asked Apophis using Illusion Magic.

I twisted in front of the mirror, inspecting the clothing chosen for me.

From a fashion and comfort perspective, I had no complaints. The light taupe jacket was thin, breathable, and clearly meant for summer mornings and evenings. The black silk shirt was of the highest quality, and the white pants fit so comfortably that I could have probably replaced my pajamas with them.

The real question was in terms of the runic work and embedded spellwork, which glistened inconspicuously on the inside of each garment. Including even the underwear.

~Master, given the level of protection woven into this outfit… I’m not certain whether to interpret it as a sign that you will be guarded against anything or that you ought to expect anything on the battlefield.

Tsk. I clicked my tongue.

“What are the protections?” I asked.

~The jacket emits a protective shield with a radius of three skulls in every direction. The pants are charmed to triple your speed should you need to run. Your shoes, if tapped against the ground in a running sequence, will teleport you forward twenty skulls. Excellent for escaping.

Apophis shifted, climbing back up atop his favorite spot on my left shoulder.

~The shirt has calming properties and will forcibly keep your breathing slow and even. Good for maintaining your Sanity. As for the underwear… He paused. I do not believe that was necessary.

I understood Apophis’ concern.

Rather than feeling reassured, I felt increasingly alarmed by the amount of protection I had been dressed in. Especially considering that my school uniform had not exactly been lacking in protective measures either.

Which raised the obvious question: what exactly did Augustus expect to happen to me?

***

When we teleported into the coastal city of Gythoni, my question remained unanswered.

The city was etched into rugged cliffs that dropped sharply into the sea. Far below, the water shimmered in shades of brilliant turquoise and deep sapphire, so clear that I could make out dark rocks beneath the surface and flashes of fish moving between them.

Colorful buildings clung to the cliffside in uneven stacks, painted in bright shades of yellow, orange, white, and blue. Red terracotta tiles sat atop each roof. Narrow iron balconies jutted from the buildings, many draped with potted plants and flowering vines.

Looking down, the streets themselves were carved from the same pale stone as the cliffs, worn smooth by time and countless footsteps. Above and between the buildings, dark greenery spilled over ledges, and orange and magenta bougainvillea crept down the walls in bright bursts.

It was a beautiful and charming city.

This made the fact that we were heading toward an active war feel even more absurd.

The signs were there, however.

Unlike the sleepy capital city we had left behind, Gythoni was already awake. Not with civilians opening shops or servants scurrying about, but with groups of uniformed personnel moving through the stone streets.

The morning air carried the salt of the sea, and there was a damp chill to it. However, there were also notes of metal, smoke, and medicinal—evidence of war.

Military mages moved in groups of three and four, their dark black uniforms cutting through the bright city like ink spilled over a painting. Portals opened and closed along marked circles etched into the street, as other personnel came and went. With each teleport, a brief gust of displaced air would flow in: the smell of rain, ash, or unfamiliar soil before snapping shut again.

“Is this much really fine?” I asked, turning toward Augustus. I lifted the gold medallion hanging from my neck.

Like everyone else, Augustus was in uniform. His crimson-red robes marked him clearly as a Royal Red Mage.

As for myself, aside from the medallion, I looked like a civilian. A well-dressed civilian, perhaps. But a civilian nonetheless.

“Of course,” Augustus replied. He patted my shoulder, then leaned closer to my ear, his voice lowering. “We can’t have you misidentified. And you need to stand out. The outfit and medallion will ensure you are given the respect required for my protégé.”

“Augustus!”

A booming voice cut through the street.

A large woman strode toward us, her presence parting the flow of others. Her black uniform was fitted neatly across broad shoulders, and the circumference of one arm looked thicker than one of my thighs. Two gold stars gleamed atop her shoulders, catching the morning light as she approached.

She then swept Augustus into an embrace. He was a full head shorter than she, and it made for a somewhat comical picture.

“Alessia,” Augustus said, patting her back with practiced composure despite his legs dangling slightly off the floor. “Good to see you.”

She released him, and Augustus adjusted his robes before motioning toward me.

“This is Luca Frey. My protégé.”

Alessia turned her broad smile on me. “I’ve heard rumors.”

That was hardly a comforting sentence.

However, I smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you, Alessia.”

“General Alessia to you,” she corrected.

“Of course,” I replied. “General Alessia.”

My gaze flicked again to the black uniform and the two golden stars on her shoulders.

I was not yet familiar with the ranks of this kingdom and its naming conventions, but she was evidently someone important. Though I imagined that there were those with more than two stars. That was how these things usually worked.

In any case, it was prudent for me to stay on my best behavior around her. Even if she was evidently friendly toward Augustus.

“Since you are present, does that mean…?” Augustus trailed off.

General Alessia nodded. “Yes. The additional help has arrived. They’re already stationed at the front.”

She eyed me up and down. “Good choice. Can’t have your protégé accidentally getting mixed up with that bunch.”

I blinked.

“Precisely my thought,” Augustus replied.

“Mixed up with whom?” I asked.

General Alessia smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. “You’ll see soon enough. Luckily for me, and unluckily for you, you’ll be stationed near them.”

That was not a reassuring answer.

“Speaking of which,” Augustus said, changing the conversation smoothly, “our agreement was that Luca would be permitted to operate free of the Black Mana Cuffs. Do you happen to have the mana key?”

General Alessia’s smile widened. “Of course, why else do you think I’m here?”

She motioned for me to follow her into one of the orange-painted buildings facing the street. Inside, the air smelt of salt and old wood. A few soldiers glanced over as we entered, but immediately looked away once they saw Alessia.

She did not lead us far. She closed the door and produced a mana key from one of her pockets. She unlocked the straps around my neck and wrists with practiced speed.

I massaged my wrists and neck. The Black Mana Cuffs were more comfortable than they looked, but it was nonetheless relieving to be free of them.

“What about these?” I motioned to my ankles, realizing they were left on.

General Alessia glanced down. “Ah, right. Habit.”

She crouched and unlocked those as well, to my relief.

“Honestly, the ankle restraints are mainly an extra precaution,” she explained, standing again. “They cut one’s mana only by ten or so percent. They prevent a prisoner—not that you are one—from running or teleporting away. If needed, the Dead Weight Spell embedded in them can be activated to lock the wearer in place.”

“I see,” I said, nodding. Though her explanation, while enlightening, made me realize the extent of the restrictions that I had actually been under.

General Alessia stood back up and tucked the mana key and the cuffs away.

“Given how long this damned war has dragged on, we obtained permission to recruit prisoners from the lower levels of Glimver Dungeon,” she explained in a low voice. “They’re dressed as military mages to avoid panic, but that is who Augustus and I were discussing earlier.”

I stared at her.

“Their cuffs were removed as well,” she continued, “except for the ankle restraints. We need them to be able to practice magic to be of any worth on the front lines, but we can’t let them escape. The majority are life-term, afterall.”

She held my gaze.

“Just so you know, this information is under wraps. Don’t mention it carelessly. I’m only telling you because Augustus brought you here.”

I glanced toward Augustus, who merely nodded.

Suddenly, his concern about me being misidentified made significantly more sense.

“Ah, but I do have some good news too.” General Alessia opened the door and led us back outside. “Looks like a friend of yours will be on the front lines as well.”

A friend?

I frowned at this.

Who in the world…? What crazy friend did I have who would willingly—or unwillingly—go to the front lines?

Actually, I had plenty, but they were all back in my home realm.

I ran through all the possibilities in my head, but came up blank.

General Alessia led us toward one of the larger portals. A pair of soldiers standing in front of it straightened at her approach, then stepped aside without question.

General Alessia entered first. I took one last glance at Gythoni—the colorful buildings, the blue sea glittering below, the bougainvillea spilling over the walls—and stepped through after Augustus.

On the other side, all the beauty of the world disappeared.

Instead of the stone floor and emerald-blue sea, there was only dark, ashen dirt and air thick with smoke and dark clouds. Instead of the cool sea breeze, there was a scent of smoke and burning flesh. Gone was the cloud-filled blue sky, replaced by thunderous clouds that appeared unnaturally overbearing. Loud booms sounded, and large flashes appeared, hitting the ground in quick succession. The colorful, beautiful buildings were replaced by large, circular grey tents.

“Medic! Medic needed here!”

“Get me a Hilt Potion now!”

Voices cried out, one over another. Everyone was moving around, scurrying about.

A war between the nations of powerful mages was a sight to behold.

The injuries were of a whole other scale.

I watched a team of healers pushing carts of pink flesh, spread out like a web, with one eye on one side and the other on the other end. It was as if a person was turned into goo and stretched out.

Inside another tent were rows of beds with people—or what were likely people—lying with odd growths on their bodies. There were extra arms, skin that appeared to be all rock, and other mutations that would have made The Alchemist proud.

Taking a closer look around, I realized that the space we were in had once been a city. A large city, larger than Gythoni. However, it had all crumbled into ruin.

“Don’t worry, this may be the frontlines, but the actual battle takes place further out there,” Augustus said and pointed toward the valley.

Just how bad is it there, I wonder?

“Kid, did you grow up in a war-torn city or something?” General Alessia grinned at me. “Your friend threw up when he arrived here, but you don’t look fazed one bit.”

I frowned.

So it’s a ‘he’?

“Who…?”

My answer stepped out of one of the gray tents before she could reply.

Ash-faced and unsteady, Aegus Matrinovo appeared before me.

The very person whose absence from this damned war had been used to justify my being here.

~They said he wasn’t well enough in the head to partake, didn’t they?

The irony wasn’t lost on Apophis.

“Maybe he isn’t all that well still,” I replied back using Illusion Magic.

Because Aegus looked genuinely relieved and happy to see me.

“Luca!” Aegus called, practically running toward me with a grin on his face.

Damn it.

Did I and Void really screw up his head that badly?