In the austere meeting room of the Imperial Knights' Headquarters, illuminated by the cold light filtering through tall stained-glass windows, a group of stern-looking men gathered around a heavy oak table. The air was thick with tension.
Colonel Barek, a man of average height and narrow shoulders, with a sparse, poorly trimmed beard that barely covered his angular chin and a subtle scar near his left temple, slammed his fist on the table in exasperation. His dark eyes flashed with frustration:
"We're back here again! By the gods, it feels like someone's playing tricks on us and tripling our workload!"
Across the table, Colonel Sorin slowly raised his head. He was a burly man with a thick neck supporting a double chin and a meticulously trimmed black beard that contrasted with his snug uniform. He wiped his lips before speaking, his voice a calm, deliberate rumble:
"Colonel Barek, your suspicions... lacking any tangible foundation... sound increasingly like hysterical fantasy. Ridiculous, even."
Barek turned to him, the scar becoming more visible as he furrowed his brow. His accusing finger shot out:
"No foundation? Sorin, open your eyes! An identical disaster to Sunis! The same blinding blue energy explosion! But the infernal beast that ravaged Sunis was annihilated by Emperor Thorian himself! How could it be the same creature? Unless..."
A sudden, oppressive silence fell over the table, so dense that the sound of Barek's ragged breathing seemed to echo. All eyes then turned to the head of the table.
There, seated with impeccable posture that spoke of decades of military discipline, was General Ervind. He was the oldest of the group, his full hair and mustache a bright silver, rigorously combed. His face was etched with deep wrinkles, witnesses to countless battlefields, but his clear, steel-colored eyes remained piercing and alert. His formal navy-blue dress uniform was adorned with rows of gleaming medals – the Silver Sun of Valor, the Iron Star of Campaign, the Order of the Imperial Lion. He placed his hands on the table, gnarled fingers interlacing.
"Calm, Colonel Barek. Temper your fury, Colonel Sorin." His voice was deep, gravelly, but carried unquestionable authority. "The point raised by the Colonel... is more than valid. Indeed, the similarity between the events is disturbing. Too disturbing to be coincidence. There is an undeniable link between what happened now and the tragedy of Sunis."
He paused, his heavy gaze sweeping each face at the table before settling again on the center of the polished wood.
"Furthermore... we cannot ignore the fragments of intelligence we obtained about that cultist conspiracy in the Mountain." A slight tremor, perhaps of contained rage or frustration, passed through his hands. "Intelligence that, unfortunately, can never be fully investigated or concluded. The very mountain range where they operated... vanished. Like smoke in the wind."
After General Ervind spoke, a heavy silence filled the room, laden with bad memories and a danger no one wanted to name. The colored light from the stained glass seemed to dim, leaving everything with a colder, more frightening air.
Colonel Sorin opened his mouth, ready to unleash another of his skeptical tirades, but a sharp look from the General silenced him instantly. Barek, across the table, took a deep breath. The anger in his dark eyes was replaced by deep unease.
It was then that General Ervind stood up. It wasn't a jump, but a slow, powerful movement, like a mountain awakening. His shadow stretched across the oak table.
"Coincidence or not, we can no longer remain in the dark," his deep voice echoed off the stone walls. "And suspicion, however uncomfortable it may be for some," he shot a quick glance at Sorin, "is essential. Sunis was not an isolated incident, and what happened now on the Auria frontier is not a simple repetition. There's a pattern there. A signature. And that signature..." He paused dramatically, his knotted fingers gripping the edge of the table. "...reeks of 'The Veil'."
Those last words hung in the air like poison. Even Sorin shrank back slightly in his chair.
"Those damned terrorists," Ervind continued, the name coming out like a curse, "and their impossible disappearance... those scraps of information that slipped through our fingers like sand... they are pieces of the same filthy game. Someone, or *something*, is orchestrating all of this. Someone with the power to unleash infernal beasts and make entire mountains vanish."
He stared at each of them, that penetrating gaze demanding understanding.
"Normal investigation has failed. Conventional movements are blind to these shadows. Everything points to that organization."
A new silence, this one filled with expectation, dominated the room. Barek leaned forward, his eyes burning with a mix of hope and fear. Sorin frowned, but his habitual disdain had vanished, replaced by wary curiosity.
General Ervind straightened his shoulders, his medals clinking softly.
"So," he announced, his voice gaining final weight, "we send for Sophia."
The name, different and somewhat musical, fell like a bomb in the heavy silence.
"Sophia?" Barek repeated, confused. That name didn't match any known officer, any elite agent in the records.
Sorin let out a low grunt, and a thread of contempt returned to his face. "Sophia? *That* lunatic?"
General Ervind didn't even blink. An almost invisible smile touched the corners of his mouth, but it didn't reach his steely eyes.
"Sophia," he repeated, emphasizing, "is not a knight. Nor a common spy. She is... a 'special' resource. Someone who senses the hidden currents of the world, who can follow trails that neither fire nor explosion can erase."
"Sophia has been... *summoned*... in similar cases before." His gaze drifted to a distant window, as if seeing something the others couldn't. "Her methods are unorthodox, but they work. Without a doubt."
Barek swallowed dryly. The idea of someone with such powers operating in the shadows was disturbing. But the General's firm tone, full of certainty, silenced his doubts.
"But, General," Sorin protested, his voice tense, "it's true she solves things... but she also causes massive problems! Setting a city on fire, tying up a master in nothing but his underwear in the town square, and riding a demonic turtle through the palace, among other lunacies... to put it mildly."
"Those are indeed peculiar methods, but she is our best option, since we cannot summon emperors for such things," Ervind reiterated, unperturbed. "Sophia will be notified immediately. As soon as she discovers anything, she will report to us."
The General sat back down with military precision, folding his hands on the table. The room seemed colder, the air heavier. The name "Sophia" echoed in everyone's mind, a strange and potentially dangerous promise.
In each head, thoughts raced:
Ervind: *"I have considerable confidence in her abilities."*
Sorin: *"What madness will that lunatic unleash now? May the gods have mercy on Auria..."*
Barek: *"Riding a demonic turtle... how incredible! It does 0 to 100km/h in 5s, has four-wheel drive, and the insurance is dirt cheap. Famborghini demonic bulls? Lerrari demonic horses? That's ancient history!"*
*****
DEMONIC TURTLES™: HIGH MOBILITY WITH PAYMENTS THAT BARELY HURT!
(Attention: This is definitely not an ad. We swear!)*
COMFORT THAT DEFIES PHYSICS:
Imagine the security of crossing a world on a beautiful turtle, feeling the wind in your hair! That's traveling on a Demonic Turtle™!
- Zero vibration: Thanks to Shock-Absorbing Legs.
- Unbreakable safety: Ultra-resistant shell (Well... if you crash, IT won't break).
PAYMENTS AS SMOOTH AS ITS MOVEMENT:
UP TO 36 INSTALLMENTS OF 100 MANA CRYSTALS
TECHNICAL COMPARISON (SERIOUSLY, THIS IS NOT AN AD):
ITEM: DEMONIC TURTLE™
SUMMONED MONSTER
Top speed: 500 km/h (in headwind)
Parking: Practically anywhere (just doesn't float... when sober)
Social status: +Respect + Sex Appeal
REAL TESTIMONIAL (OR PRETTY CLOSE):
"I bought mine 3 years ago. Still on the 3rd installment, I'd already visited the entire kingdom of Velmoria! On the first day at work, she devoured my boss. Worth every crystal!"
Moldim, 37, Unemployed (currently)
TRY A TEST RIDE!
(Subject to: being devoured, suffering a miserable death crushed by claws or shell)*
HOUSE NOTE:
No demonic turtles were harmed or killed in the making.
(Unfortunately, we cannot say the same for our employees. The team suffered an... enthusiastic restructuring. Interested in job openings? Leave your resume at the address below!)
KESNIK STREET, NO. 23
SHADOW VALE DISTRICT (formerly "Peace Vale")
FALLENSTAR CITY, KINGDOM OF VELMORIA
On a peaceful street in the City of Emilia, where houses with colorful tiled roofs glistened under the afternoon sun, Sophia was a red-haired hurricane of involuntary chaos. Her rust-colored hair escaped from a messy ponytail like rebellious strands of fire, while her glasses with phosphorescent green lenses – twisted black frame and one arm mended with tape – magnified her acid-green eyes, like emeralds. A thin scar cut across her right eyebrow, a permanent reminder of the day she became an adventurer.
She wore an aged black salamander leather jacket (according to the dubious vendor at the Shadow Market), over a purple t-shirt that declared: "DO NOT DISTURB: I'M CONQUERING THE WORLD (OR TRYING TO)". Her pants were stuffed with mana crystals and squashed demonic turtle biscuits. On her leather boots, a small crooked star on the buckle jingled with each step, like a bell.
"Demonic turtles... increasingly popular?" She murmured to herself, raising a crumpled flyer while patting the shell of Belladonna, who slept like a rock on the sidewalk. It was then that her comlink beeped furiously at her waist, the bent antenna flashing in desperate Morse code:
"REPORT TO THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS' BARRACKS. URGENT."
"Let's go, Belladonna!" Sophia mounted in one leap, grabbing the fossilized tendon handles. Barely had her hip touched the greenish cushion, the turtle shot forward.
The world became a blur.
Houses streaked past. The wind tore not only at Sophia's hair, but also at street signs and the feathers of a distracted pigeon.
Belladonna's mouth spat the sound of a V8, complete with backfire that shot out flames shaped like skulls.
As Belladonna took a sharp turn on two legs, Sophia remembered Moldim's testimonial: "Devoured my boss...". "I wonder if she'd accept a boring colonel as a snack?" She pondered, mentally projecting Sorin's face into the space.
Suddenly, the turtle braked hard.
— SCREEEEEECH!
"IT WOULD BE GOOD TO PAY ATTENTION, GIRL!"
The voice cut through the air like a whip, making Sophia jump. Turning, she faced a man whose posture was as rigid as an unsheathed sword.
His military attire wasn't of Auria's standards: a sharply cut black tunic, embroidered with silver threads forming stylized dragon claws on the sleeves. Covering his face was a silver mask over his mouth and chin, revealing only green eyes identical to Sophia's – and a red mustache escaping the metal edges. The hood, made of fabric resembling inverted salamander skin, cast greenish reflections under the sun.
"Sergeant Kurtis..." Sophia recognized the figure, crossing her arms.
"Watch your tone, girl! Or I'll spank you!" he warned, pointing a gloved finger.
"Ah, right... Dad," she rolled her eyes, feigning indignation.
Kurtis ignored the comment, placing his hands on his hips as he observed Belladonna – who now purred like a chainsaw in 'innocent' mode:
"Your mount destroyed half the block on the way. Couldn't you have made a little less mess?"
*****
In Auria, Marcelo, accompanied by Lydia on his shoulder, headed to the Summoners' Guild headquarters. He had barely crossed the entrance door, however, when he was summoned by the guild leader – still unable to deliver his quest. Upon reaching the leader's room, he had barely taken a step when he heard:
"You made quite a SPECTACLE at Spring Mountain!"
Marcelo froze, the road dust still on his boots. Not understanding, he stared at the leader.
I did what?