Kingdom of Lichstein Bepnis Strait – Mount Albur (Hidden Base)
When I finally spotted the plain at the foot of the mountain, the terrain looked nothing like before.
It seemed as though machines had flattened it, though a few hills still remained. My mind immediately flashed back to the trees I crashed into last night while training with the Indominus.
What the hell happened here?
I walked around, surveying the area. It seemed Artia had either begun or already finished my requests. I wasn't sure. I'll ask tomorrow—I don't feel like hearing explanations right now.
At last I reached the mountain's peak and stood before the stone where I'd sat two days ago. I sat down again, gazing at the clear sky, birds gliding in flocks. It was a calming view.
But my peace was interrupted by a voice. Artia had arrived piloting a robot, square-headed with two antennae like insect feelers. On its display, the name read: Explorer G-21.
[Grand Marshal, welcome.]
—"Hello, Artia. Do you want something?"
[I came to report my progress.]
—"Yeah… no thanks. Tell me tomorrow."
[Understood, Marshal. Do you require anything?]
—"Peace, stability… maybe new clothes."
[...]
[I can offer micro-electro-neural treatments for guaranteed relaxation… I also detected DNA samples on your current garments. If you wish, I can provide synthetic-biomechanical fabric, with designs in black.]
—"Not interested in treatments. Bring the clothes, I'll check them later. For now, I want to be alone."
[Then I'll withdraw and respect your privacy.]
—"Thanks, Artia. I'll head inside the base at nightfall."
[Understood, see you tonight, Marshal.]
***
Gregorian Empire – Province of Numidia Port City of Cartag
Rumors spread like wildfire across the city—about a small gladiator slave with a profane name who disintegrated a Jundur in a single blow and manhandled a Troll like a child.
Some exaggerated, others doubted, while most speculated it was nothing but a promotional stunt for tomorrow's tournament. Those who had actually witnessed it stayed silent. And those who did speak… only did so drunk.
At the teleport station, in the civilian portal section, a young man emerged. His imposing physique clad in leather mixed with light armor, Sildrack fur on his shoulders. His striking dark hair flared with crimson tips. He radiated raw ferocity.
One of the station's mages whispered:
—"That must be the heir of the Battler Clan of Nordkrieger."
—"So that's the famed Berserk prodigy, huh."
—"Shut up, you sound like schoolgirls swooning over a teenager."
The young man smirked with pride, pleased that even distant mages knew his name. He handed over a leather pouch with eighty gold coins, then set off to explore the city.
Women turned their heads as he passed; despite his age, he exuded masculinity. He paused briefly, catching the drunken murmur of a name: "The Abuser."
He smirked in contempt at such a pathetic title. But when his gaze fell on the Amphitheater—the venue for tomorrow's tournament—he cracked his knuckles, excitement brimming. His voice, brash and confident, carried like a declaration:
—"Tomorrow, I'll finally prove the results of my training."
By late afternoon, at the larger teleport gates—where ships crossed the so-called Portal Gates—a different vessel arrived. Its scale, its ornate luxury, its commanding design screamed status and imperial authority.
Inside, the crew served not their captain but the presence of His Highness Alex Magnus, firstborn of Prince Alexander Magnus, son Three of the Emperor.
The adolescent reveled in his grandeur. Female attendants doted on him, ready to fulfill any whim. With a cynical smile, he told the ship's captain:
—"Contact Governor Acrisio. Inform him I've arrived."
***
Kingdom of Lichstein Banks of the Bepnis Strait – Inside the Base, Night
—"Damn, this synthetic fabric is incredible. You're not messing with me, right? It cleans itself, absorbs sweat, regulates body temperature, even keeps me smelling fresh."
[Correct, Marshal… that garment was designed for hygienic efficiency.]
—"What I love most is that it's black. Worn together with the «CI-Mask», it'll look theatrical. Plus, I don't need to worry about bloodstains anymore."
[Then you'll use it permanently?]
—"Of course not… I like the feeling of bathing. But that's the least of my concerns. Artia, set an alarm—I plan to wake up early."
[Understood, Marshal. As agreed, I'll deliver my progress report tomorrow, since you never check your communicator.]
—"Ah, right… I'd forgotten, Artia. Sorry."
[No worries. I understand the Marshal is a busy man.]
—"I plan to make it up to you somehow, Artia."
[It's fine. Just give me more orders… it's boring doing the same thing every day, Marshal.]
—"Fair enough. I'm planning to bring you along on my travels."
[Just give me portable access, and I'll follow you anywhere.]
—"Good. Then create a unit that stores your data and can travel."
[What do you suggest, Marshal?]
—"I don't know… a drone?"
[Form and functions?]
—"Square. And useful for espionage."
[Waterproof and pressure-resistant?]
—"Yep. Oh, and since so few got to hear my music, add a «CI-Mask» link with So Round sound."
[Very well. I'll proceed with fabrication, Marshal.]
—"Perfect. I'm going to sleep. See you tomorrow, Artia."