Sacril waited a moment and then breathed a sigh of slight relief.
The confusing message displayed in the incandescent runes had led him to believe that 23 minutes were remaining until the city faced some sort of attack.
But it was clear to see that he actually had about 23 and a half hours.
Granted, he still had no idea what to do, but perhaps he could save himself by running away from this city.
That option would leave his mind very soon after, as a voice rang out from behind him.
"Major! What would you be doing here at this time?! You are required to go down to the barracks and fetch your company immediately!"
Sacril turned quickly, his eyes widening in bemused surprise as he saw a man wearing an absurd golden chestplate, a golden cape, and a helmet with three lion heads. On top of this, he wore a red-and-gold skirt around his waist, making him stand out even more.
A moment too late, he grasped why the man's getup was so absurd, and nearly smacked himself for it.
"Oh?! Is that how you greet your superior!? with a dumbfounded asslicking expression! You fool! I should demote you now! But you need to get your gaping arse down to the barracks now! We'll talk about this tomorrow at dawn!"
Sacril shuddered but did not pause this time, simply bowing and loudly exclaiming.
"Yes, Sir!"
Yes, there was no doubt that his two lions on his helmet marked him as a Major, whereas this man had an entire extra lion on top of his own; this marked him far above Sacril, though he wasn't sure of the exact ranking difference.
however he was certain that this man would not be taking it up with him tomorrow at dawn, seeing as the clicking alarm would already have ended or at least be close to ending by that time.
.
.
.
Sacril had wandered around before finding his way into the barracks. It was loud inside the large hall, and men clamored around busily; it was evident they had all been called here just like him. It would be harder for him to simply blend in, as he was in the unfortunate position of commanding at least a couple of dozen of these men.
He felt a heavy pat on his shoulder and turned his head to see a bearded man wearing a single lion helm with a crooked smile on his face.
"Howdy majr' Didn't feel like getting out the wife's bedsheets today, did ya?"
Sacril assumed he knew this man, as he spoke with a friendly tone, and returned reservedly.
"Ah, no. Just woke up feeling a little unwell, is all."
"Ah, haha. Well i'm sure the boys will make a spot for you, come on."
If the interaction with the absurd-looking golden-armed superior could have perhaps been a coincidence where he simply didn't know the face of every major in his company, this had proven that false.
The man beside him, as well as every single person here were clearly seeing him as someone he was not.
An immense pressure suddenly settled firmly upon his shoulders.
He had never been a particularly good actor; however, perhaps he could have played the role of a soldier.
That being said, the chances of him commanding a group of men were even less likely.
As they brushed by a man, he greeted the bearded fellow beside him.
"Good day, Sergeant Tyber, Major Stout."
Sacril took note of the names, nearly laughing at his own comically heroic-sounding name.
He also took note of the calm manner the man spoke to him with, almost as if he wasn't ranked higher; it wasn't disrespectful, more like a trusting manner of speech.
He shuddered; he wasn't just a major. He was a Respected major, oh the horror!
As they sat at their table, he was greeted by several more people. He suddenly got an idea that just might get him through all this.
'Well, the thing with respect is... It's a currency, and im sure I can spend some of it to my advantage...'
holding his head in his hands as if he was suddenly in pain, he leaned over to the sergeant.
"Tyber, if I may."
"Err yes, sir?"
Sacril suppressed a smile and carried on.
"Im afraid I... overindulged myself last night.. would you mind jogging my memory, just a bit."
Tyber looked shocked. "You? well I suppose it happens to the best of us, then haha. sure I can help, Sir. What is it you want to know?"
"I ran into a loud commander when I first woke up. I couldn't make him out, but he was extremely loud and obnoxious. Do you know who im talking about?"
Sergeant Tyber looked around and, in a hushed tone, replied:
"Yes, sir. That would be General Gold Strong, you must really be shot if you couldn't tell that, what's next? You gonna ask me what we're even here for?"
Sacril held his head in exaggerated pain once again.
"Actually..."
.
.
.
Tyber had filled him in that they were, in fact, preparing for an invasion, although they claimed it was a small-scale one.
He had his doubts about that, wondering why he would need an extreme warning presented to him when he first came here, presenting the attack as a 'Siege' and making it sound like a grand historical event.
He also picked up the names of everyone under his command and listened for other bits and pieces from the crowd, until finally everything went silent, and a light lit the stage at the head of the barracks.
out stepped the Obnoxious General Gold Strong, and a curly gold-haired boy, who wore a crown and a regal dress, stood in the shadows behind him.
Strong's voice rang out through the hall.
"Turn your attention to the heir to the throne of Roikos! Prince Baronian Roikos!"
The young boy's golden eyes flashed, and he stared into the crowd, seemingly directly at Sacril.
and in an even louder and more magnificent voice, drawing th undivided attention of everyone in the room, he spoke.
"Would the Great Hero, Savior of the battle of Royce, Major Izak Stout, please step up to the stage to receive his commendations, as well as deliver his speech to the crowd ahead of tomorrow's battle?!"