Li Mei stood outside the inn, arms crossed, squinting at the assembled warriors—tired, tense, and awkwardly armored in the glow of the streetlights. Her thoughts raced.
How was she going to pay for a hundred beds, food for a small army, and enough clothes to stop them from looking like walking relics?
"…Maybe pawn my motorbike… max out the credit card… beg Auntie Liu…" she muttered under her breath.
Before she could finish that grim mental math, Alaric stepped forward, posture tall, eyes steady. Without a word, he untied a small, rune-stitched pouch from his belt and loosened it before her.
A cascade of golden coins spilled into his palm, glinting under the village lights, ancient and unmistakably authentic.
Li Mei blinked—then grinned wide as a laugh escaped her.
"Now we're talking, Prince Charming." She tapped the nearest coin with her finger, eyes glinting. "I like to think I'm a good person—my parents didn't raise a thief—so relax… I won't cheat you."
She weighed one coin in her hand, letting it slide through her fingers, her smile turning mischievous. "But damn… with this I could pay off my loans, buy a house… maybe a nice car."
Alaric inclined his head respectfully, ignoring her rambling. "These… are your rewards… for service." His tone was formal but earnest. "In exchange… I seek your guidance… clothing… proper dwelling… and… to teach us… how to live… in this world."
Li Mei's grin didn't fade. She put the coin in her wallet with a satisfied snap and tucked it into her jacket. "Fair deal. You've got yourself a guide, Your Highness." She stretched lazily. "But tonight… It's too late for lessons. Tomorrow… we plan properly."
She winked playfully. "Rest easy, Prince Charming—tomorrow you learn how to survive China, Li Mei style."
Then, her gaze shifted to the captain, standing tall at Alaric's side, expression locked in unreadable discipline. Li Mei's grin deepened, her eyes scanning him up and down.
"Never thought I'd meet so many handsome guys in one place," she teased, tossing a gold coin in the air and kissing it before pocketing it. "Guess someone finally answered my prayers."
Alaric and the captain exchanged a glance—neither quite sure if they were being complimented or mocked.
Alaric cleared his throat, keeping his formal posture.
The captain, unused to such… behavior, shifted slightly but remained silent.
Li Mei turned toward her motorbike, adjusting her jacket and giving them both a cheeky smile.
"Sleep well, Prince Charming… and General Stern Face. We start bright and early tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, she strode off, leaving the warriors staring after her, golden coins jingling in her wallet.
The captain's gaze narrowed after Li Mei disappeared around the corner, her coin purse jingling in the distance. He leaned slightly toward Alaric, his voice low and cautious.
"Your Highness… I still believe she may be a warlock… wielding strange new sorcery… skills unknown even to the imperial scholars."
Alaric couldn't help it—a soft laugh escaped him, the first genuine sound of amusement since stepping into this strange land.
His gaze drifted upward, lingering on the pale glow of the foreign moon, framed by jagged mountain cliffs. His expression shifted, a hint of quiet longing flickering across his youthful features.
For the uncharted days beyond…" Alaric murmured, his voice carrying like a vow beneath the moonlight, "…whatever trials the winds bring, whatever fate the stars have written—we shall face them with heads unbowed, as one banner, one destiny."
Then his posture straightened once more. Without turning, he began to walk toward the hotel entrance, spear tapping lightly against the stone path.
"Tharrok," Alaric called, firm and clear, "assemble the men."
The Tharrok straightened immediately, his uncertainty forgotten, expression hardening into steadfast determination. His first pressed to his chest in a crisp salute.
"At once, Your Highness."
And with that, the young prince walked forward, his warriors falling into line, the first steps of their uncertain journey in this strange, new world just beginning.
The Tharrok turned sharply, his boots striking the stone as he faced the assembled warriors. The lines of armored men straightened instinctively under his commanding presence.
His voice rang out, crisp and authoritative, cutting through the night air.
"Brothers of Selvaris! Warriors of the Eastern Gates!" His words carried the weight of discipline and pride. "Our Lord has spoken. Though we walk foreign lands beneath strange skies, though our banners fly not over familiar walls—our duty remains unbroken!"
The warriors shifted, postures stiffening with renewed purpose.
Tharrok's chest swelled, his voice firm and steady.
"We stand not as exiles… but as the steel of the Selvaris Empire—unchanged in honor, unshaken in spirit."
He pointed toward the modest hotel behind them, then toward the distant mountains veiled in moonlight.
"Tonight, we rest… tomorrow, we rise to learn the shape of this land, to understand its ways… and to guard our Lord, our future… until the time comes to reclaim our destiny!"
A quiet ripple of resolve moved through the men. Spears pressed firmly into the ground, backs straightened, and eyes grew sharper.
The Tharrok turned to Alaric, bowing deeply.
"Your Highness… the men stand ready."
Alaric gave a single, approving nod. "Let them rest… they will need their strength."
Alaric's gaze swept over his assembled warriors, his posture tall, voice cutting through the quiet like steel drawn from its sheath.
"Draven … Garrik …" he called, his tone sharp and commanding, each name drawing immediate attention.
Then his eyes shifted, fixing on two figures standing close together.
"Selene … Solan …"
The twins straightened, their expressions sharpening in unison.
Finally, Alaric's focus settled on the towering figure beside him. "Tharrok… join me in the dining hall."
A deep, respectful nod from Tharrok followed, his stance brimming with readiness.
Alaric's voice rose, firm and unwavering as he addressed the rest of his men.
"The rest of you… hear me well. We are in a land free of demons—a village unscarred by war. This place… is a haven." His tone softened slightly, though the edge of authority remained.
"You will rest… and you will sharpen your minds." His silver eyes swept across the rows of disciplined faces. "Tomorrow, we begin to learn… to gather knowledge of this world… and to open channels with its people."
A few warriors exchanged uncertain glances, but their stance remained solid.
Alaric continued, his words measured but absolute.
"You will not wear battle armor, nor carry swords, for these streets are not fields of war. Weapons and armor will be left behind. You will abide by the customs of this land, respect their laws, and learn them well."
His gaze flickered back to the twins, his expression firm.
"Selene and Solan, you will record all that we learn… knowledge, customs, local governance—everything. It will be compiled and shared with the advisors for future counsel."
The two nodded firmly, hands already shifting toward the journals slung at their belts.
Alaric's voice dropped slightly, but his words carried across the courtyard.
"We stand as representatives of Selvaris… warriors in their conquest, but nobles still. Conduct yourselves with dignity. Tomorrow… the first step in understanding this world begins."
His expression hardened, and his voice snapped like a whip.
"dismissed!"
A thunderous beat followed as a hundred fists struck chests in unison, their precise, military salute cracking through the quiet street. The disciplined sound made the nearby windows tremble.
At the doorway of the small village hotel, Old Man Liu, the wrinkled, white-bearded hotel owner, stood with a broom half-raised, jaw slack, eyes wide with disbelief.
Next to him, a young man clutching a bag of groceries stared at the soldiers dispersing in perfect formation.
The young man whistled low. "Huh… either they're about to conquer the village… or start a religion."
Old Man Liu shook his head slowly, his grip tightening on the broom. "At my age, I don't need to witness the rise of an empire at my front door."
The young man chuckled, nudging the elder with his elbow.
"Better stock up on rice wine, Uncle… It's going to be a long week."
Inside the dining hall of the modest hotel, the air smelled faintly of wood smoke and boiled noodles. The lamplight flickered gently along the simple wooden walls, casting soft shadows across the room.
But seated at the long table, the young heir of Selvaris and his chosen officers sat with the poise and discipline of a royal war council.
Alaric occupied the center seat, posture upright, hands resting lightly on the smooth wood before him. Tharrok stood to his right, stoic as ever, arms crossed like a carved statue. Draven and Garrik Silver sat nearby, both sharp-eyed and attentive. Across from them sat the twin advisors, Selene and Solan, already setting out parchment scrolls and ink bottles, despite the strange plastic menus nearby offering dumplings and fried rice.
Alaric's eyes swept the table before speaking.
"You have heard my words. This land is not a battlefield, but it is no less dangerous. Here, our swords are of little use… but our minds, our discipline… will be our weapons."
Tharrok inclined his head. "Your Highness… we stand ready to learn and adapt. What are your commands?"
Alaric leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting into apparent, measured strategy.
"First… we must learn their language. Without language, we are blind, deaf… vulnerable." His gaze flicked toward the twins. "Selene, Solan… you will record every word, every phrase you hear. Study it… begin assembling the structure of their speech. Every soldier must learn it."
Both twins nodded firmly, already reaching for their scrolls.
"Second," Alaric continued, "we learn their customs… their laws. We are guests, and we shall not act as conquerors. Our honor demands it."
Draven tapped his knuckles on the table. "Permission to lead observation parties, Your Highness… small groups, to move through the market, observe and report?"
Alaric nodded. "Granted. No more than five at a time. Light garments only—no armor. Blades concealed only. Blend in where possible."
Garrik leaned in, voice quiet. "And if we are challenged, my lord?"
Alaric's gaze sharpened. "You will not be the hand that strikes first. We are to survive, not provoke. Defend only if cornered."
Alaric's gaze flicked to the councilors.
"All findings are to be reported to the councilors directly. They will compile daily reports. I expect complete updates by evening councils."
Selene and Solan answered together, "By your will, Your Highness."
Alaric's voice dropped into a final, iron-bound decree.
"We are no longer on the battlefields of Selvaris… but our duty remains. Discipline, order, and wisdom will be our banners now. We will move with care, learn with humility… and endure with pride."
Tharrok pressed a fist to his chest. "As you command… Your Highness."
Alaric gave a single, decisive nod.
"Then let the council be adjourned… rest well, and prepare your men. Tomorrow… we begin not a conquest… but a survival."
They rose as one, saluting in solemn unity before departing in precise formation, each to marshal his team for the morrow's missions—sworn that no dishonor would ever stain their Lord's name.