The Franks all along the expedition began to shift into position. Those suited in heavy armor walked forth and formed a perimeter enclosing their surroundings; then, the priests stood behind, raising their staffs high up until the jewels fitted onto the ends flickered to life. Interestingly enough, however, the paladins wielding blade and spear did not move. They merely stood at the center of the formation: not quite involved, yet also keen to act should their attention be needed.

The players also waited with them, although not by choice. They were ordered to remain at standby: to not interfere with any of the proceedings despite their otherworldly abilities proving to be quite capable. It was a strange order, especially now just before an attack, but perhaps… yes, perhaps this was not meant to be a skirmish at all.

Lucius watched the paladins labor whilst hiding himself in a carriage's shadow, and he noticed their—curious—lack of alarm. It was true that experienced warriors such as them had no doubt faced a beast once or twice during their service; however, this was different from mere confidence. It was as if they were not expecting to draw blood whatsoever.

No tension, no bloodlust, no anticipation. This whole affair was but routine, one they were assured posed little danger. Even the system was silent; there was no mission or objective to be had.

Soon, Sir Renaud moved to where his voice could reach the gathering's span and then bid everyone to be silent. The man had always appeared frail, but now there was a certain demeanor about him. His eyes glinted with a sharp intensity — oozed an intimidating light. He was, despite his status, the weakest out of them all in regards to combat. And yet the Renaud of now gave not an opportunity for others to look down on him. Here, he was at his most natural.

"How much longer, Maugris?" Renaud asked, gaze affixed to the fields of stalk. There was no fear: only a dull, practiced composure.

His priestly companion stamped his sceptre to the ground and then closed his eyes, muttering to himself as a flurry of white glowing particles began to swirl around his body. Sir Maugris looked oddly transparent, immaterial. Lucius could see him there, yes, but it was also as if he wasn't at the same time: His consciousness expanded far larger than where eyes could see.

"Three minutes," he replied.

"The preparations?"

"Complete."

"Then we begin upon my signal."

Renaud crossed his arms and grimaced, waiting for the expedition's beastly assailants to finally reveal themselves. Slowly, gradually, they could hear it — the crunching of dirt, of crude skittering and scattering directly their way.

And then? It appeared. The crops of wheat forcefully parted, making way for a group of bizarre, fantastical creatures to lunge out onto the open air. They were a unique sort unlike anything Lucius had seen before: big, burly things with the build of an ox, the head of a lion, and a hard carapace like a turtle.

"Tarasques?" Renaud muttered, confused. "There are no wetlands in this region. Odd…"

Nevertheless, the Peer remained calm and then turned toward Maugris. "Your ward?"

"Ready."

The priest gathered the divine energy around himself into a single condensed orb, and then he crushed it between his palms, the force expelling a glimmering wave that spread to each and every expedition member. Sparks and faint specks fluttered around them, dancing in the air like a microcosm of the starry heavens up high.

>[Virtual Goddess of the Wired says that the actual cosmos are far more stagnant, and less beautiful, than this]<

"Nonsense, there is beauty in everything, my dear goddess," Lucius whispered. "All that needs change is your perspective of it."

>[Virtual Goddess of the Wired sighs and wishes that were true]<

Moving on, touching the specks didn't seem to do anything; in fact, Lucius didn't feel much of a change at all. Whatever spell Sir Maugris had cast, it served not to enchant nor invigorate. So what was its purpose, then?

The beasts left no time for pondering. They marked the ground with their sharp claws and hurdled forth, slobbering in a messy spew of drool.

But before they could reach the group, Sir Renaud raised his hand, and then motioned the priests forward.

"First repetition."

The priests chanted. They lowered their heads and prayed to God, invoking the Almighty's word until it empowered their staffs in a blinding light.

And blind it did, for before any of the players could react, the light burst forth and consumed the world in an all-consuming flood of white. From the tall stalks, to the carriages, and even those around them… everything was drowned in that explosion of pure, unconstrained radiance.

When the light faded, all that could be heard was the tormented screeching of the beasts. They staggered and fell back, tears streaming from their dilated pupils, and they flailed on the ground whilst howling in such pain that one couldn't help but start to feel a bit of pity toward them.

But what surprised the players most was that… well, they could see. Some of them had recoiled in instinct, Lucius even saw Mili try to duck her face into the dirt, but despite the bright flashes none of them seemed to have been harmed. There was only a lingering confusion, and the glimmer of the still-floating sparkles around them.

Some of the beasts fled in panic, stumbling over their six scaly legs back toward the field of stalks, but the more stubborn ones thrashed and tried to advance despite their scorched retinas.

That reaction, however, was already accounted for.

"Second repetition."

The light surged once more, and so it was that the beasts had beset upon them a suffering far crueler than mere slashes of blade could ever accomplish. Closing their eyelids did naught to block the ray's deliverance; it passed through, farther, into the nerves, the brain, until every morsel of their being was lit flame in an inescapable inferno.

There was only so much stubbornness one could have before instinct inevitably took control. Their prey was too dangerous; the beasts, one by one, retreated from the expedition until not a single carapace was left to be seen. All that was left were the paladins and a quickly fading whimper.

And thus, without ever once coming to blows, the Franks had emerged victorious.

"Third repetition."

Renaud ordered one final flash, though. Just for good measure in case any of the so-called Tarasques were still roaming about. When not a sound was uttered in reply, the Peer finally relaxed, and then he directed the paladins to resume their prior formation.

With a snap of the finger, everyone had returned to their stoic selves. If anything, they were actually more casual than before. At least now they could journey with sound minds — assured that any harmful threats in the area had been repelled.

"... Lucius? Lucius!"

The gentleman heard Mister Bernardi yell out his name, so he obliged and snuck behind him before tapping on his shoulder.

"You called, my friend?"

The old mobster jumped back in fright, before exhaling in relief and placing his hand over heart. "Jesus, give a guy a head's before you do that, would you?"

"My apologies. The situation was a bit tense for a moment there, so I thought it best to quiet my steps."

"Eh, I don't blame ya. Figured we'd get attacked eventually. Just wanted to make sure you were safe."

Harper and Mili popped up beside them, the party now reunited, and they talked amongst each other while marching along with a cheerful can-do beat.

"But dang, that whole lightshow scared the heck out of me," Mili said, shivering in remembrance. "Thought I went blind for a second there. I get those sparkly things were meant to protect us, but couldn't they give, I don't know, some kind of warning beforehand?"

Harper looked out to the paladins and tried to wave toward them, only to be meant with a harsh glare in return. "Those folks probably don't want us here to begin with. Most of them are part of Ganelon's faction. If it weren't for Sir Roland or Ruggiero vouching for us, we'd probably still be stuck at the capital."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Stayin' in the city ain't necessarily a bad thing," Marco joined in. "We're the crazy ones here, givin' up all that luxury just to look for some kinda clue that might not even exist."

Mili shook her head. "But it does exist, because the system said so."

The system: all powerful, all knowing, a neutral being that served only to ensure the continued proceedings of this so-called game—at the cost of others' lives. Yet, despite its vague nature, it also served as a useful source of information. One could infer much from the missions it provided, and oftentimes the lack of one just like the recent scuffle.

As long as an event didn't involve the danger or potential growth of the players, it did not participate. Lucius wondered, however, whether it was possible to influence what type of missions would be granted to them.

The gentleman had already done it once before, albeit unintentionally, with Sir Ogier's tragic fall to madness. Perhaps his celestial onlookers would like to share their thoughts?

>[Sinister Interdimensional Bureaucrat keeps their silence]<

>[Virtual Goddess of the Wired apologizes and says that they're not allowed to speak]<

>[Number 1 Rated Salesman 1997 says screw it and confirms your suspicions. Do whatever the hell you want, kid. It's the shrewd ones in life that end up becoming big business moguls, so stick it to the boss man and bamboozle this 50% off luxury cruise to (CENSORED)]<

"Language, my friend."

>[The Salesman apologizes]<

>[An administrator of the system warns Number 1 Rated Salesman 1997 from revealing any more sensitive information]<

>[The Salesman tells them to take a vacation straight to hell and then throws up their middle finger]<

>[Number 1 Rated Salesman 1997 has been temporarily banned from chatting for one week]<

>[A few other Stars of the Cosmic Forum have been attracted by the drama and watch with great interest]<

Well, this certainly ended up bigger than Lucius initially thought, but he appreciated The Salesman's noble sacrifice and gave them a gentlemanly thumbs up before the Star was taken, kicking and screaming, away from this world's connection.

"By the way, did you ever find out why they're making us travel at night?" Harper asked. "Things could've gone ugly if the paladins were any less prepared."

Lucius didn't technically have the chance to interact with Sir Renaud amidst all the chaos, but the show they just displayed gave him enough to infer, using logical deduction and his own highly-competent intellectual ability, the justification for this evening jaunt.

To put it simply, it was just safer.

"Considering the geography of this area, I would surmise that most of the beasts here are of the sort to hunt during the day," Lucius explained. "There are less wandering about during this time, and those that do tend to be more fatigued. Additionally, there is one advantage here that cannot be gained during the day. We just witnessed it in person, in fact!"

"... Light," Marco murmured. "Sure, you can shoot fireworks when it's bright out, but they sure ain't gonna blind you as much as they do now."

"Precisely. All living things adapt to their surroundings. Our eyes, for example, tend to adjust themselves in dark spaces—the same can be said for the beasts. Except, their senses are more heightened, more honed. So how would they react when exposed to a sudden explosion?"

"Pretty badly," Mili said with a nod. "Did you see how they were squirming on the ground? Yeesh, wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Wait, no. I would. I absolutely would. But for those turtle, lion, thingies…? Almost felt sorry for them, considering they were trying to bite our faces off."

Lucius chuckled. "It is as you say. An effective method, yet also simple to enact. We hardly even needed a majority of the warriors here to repel them in a quick and bloodless manner."

Expedition Argo was, at its core, an expedition. They were not here to cull the surrounding bestial population, nor busy themselves with frequent raids. Having sufficient manpower was paramount to the smooth and efficient operation of the Order; thus, to risk injuring their own in needless battles would be a foolish endeavor. There was no point to it other than when the situation forced their hand.

Sir Renaud understood this, and such was why he prioritized the safety of the group over the glory of a few meagre kills. Lucius was honestly quite impressed; the man's appointment as expedition leader was, at first glance, a shining example of nepotism. But in reality, he utilized his forces well.

A commander wasn't necessarily the strongest of a force. No, they were the most capable: someone who knew how best to distribute their personnel and accomplish their mission, no matter the variables that might appear.

"I get that and all," Harper began. "But I hardly doubt there's a tactical reason for why they won't just tell us about their damn plans."

"You would be correct, Miss Brooks," Lucius said. "They do not like us. That is the only reason."

Still, for one prioritizing efficiency such as Renaud, it was curious why he didn't take advantage of the players. Perhaps this would be a good time now that the danger was over to get answers—personally.

"I shall try to appeal to their better nature," Lucius said, bidding his companions farewell once again. "Should I fail to appear before you in the next few hours, do not worry and make no fuss. I will return, eventually: of that I am certain."

The group looked amongst each other nervously, but they had been with Lucius long enough to know that the gentleman was capable of looking after himself. Still, they had to ask, "You sure you don't want someone to go with you?"

To that, he replied with a hearty laugh. "I am quite sure."

And thus he snuck out of their spot in the formation and skulked his way to the front. This time, however, there was no need to mask his presence. Lucius simply walked up to the two still-feuding Peers and greeted them with a boisterous hello.

"Why, good evening, my fellows!" he said directly behind them, to which Renaud and Maugris both startled and turned around. The guards surrounding them were quite baffled as well, for in their eyes, it would have seemed as if Lucius had just appeared out of thin air. They pointed their weapons and prepared to strike, but the Peers waved them off.

"Who…? How did you slip through my detection range?" the wizardly priest said, holding his sceptre in confusion. "That is strange. Even now, I cannot feel your—"

His eyes suddenly lit up in realization, and he stared at Lucius's forehead as if there were something emanating from it. "Ah, I know of you," he said. "Sir Lucius, am I correct? Lady Bradamante and Sir Ruggiero told me many tales of your kindness. Forgive my lack of greeting until this point; I am quite occupied with my duties."

Renaud scowled and beheld Lucius with caution. "The chosen hero, is it? A pity. I expected someone less… muscular, and more wise in the ways of the world."

Lucius raised his brow, and then grinned. He made a sign of the Eagle, Blade, and Star across his chest, before lowering onto one knee and clasping his hands together in the traditional Frankish greeting. "Appearances can be ever deceiving, my friend. One's first impression cannot possibly convey all that makes them worthy, as you are no doubt personally aware."

His words struck the sickly man hard, and so Renaud sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. He contemplated for a moment, wrestling with his ego, before eventually returning Lucius's gesture with a raised palm: a sign of goodwill.

"You are correct," he replied, motioning for Lucius to stand back up. "That was short-sighted of me."

"No harm done. You will find no grudge in me. Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at another: In the end, you are the one to be burned."

"... An interesting passage." Renaud's expression softened, and his frown became, just a bit, less deep. "Was it you who writ it?"

"Unfortunately, no. That honor belongs to a famed ascetic and teacher of my home world: Siddhartha Gautama, otherwise known as the Buddha. While I do not adhere to all of his beliefs, myself, there are great many a written passage that I find to be quite fascinating."

"Truly? So you are a man of literature… hm, that I can approve." Before he knew it, Renaud had let down his guard and approached Lucius like one would a fellow in the art of academia. "Are there other such philosophers in your world?"

"Why, of course! Would you perhaps care to engage in mutual dialogue? I can see an intellectual's soul burning brightly in your heart. Through our shared exchange, I hope to better our understanding of this wide realm and the mechanisms we all are subject to in the grand stream that is existence."

Lucius purposely used more complicated jargon to appeal toward the scholarly-inclined man. The paladins standing guard didn't seem to comprehend a word he said, but Sir Renaud did. His face brightened with a pure, sincere thrill, and he quickly took to Lucius's side before delivering upon him a rare smile.

"It would greatly please me to do so," he replied, patting the gentleman on the shoulder and encouraging him to walk alongside as they talked. "Let us discuss as equals on the path to greater enlightenment."

Thus did the two converse for a lengthy time, speaking of various doctrines and schools of thought practiced by their respective worlds' spiritual founders. It was through Sir Renaud that Lucius learned in greater depth about the spirit of 'Chivalry' they practiced, which was first invented by the founding emperor upon his ascension to the afterlife. In turn, the Peer learned of Christianity, of Buddhism, of Confucianism and Taoism and all the ideologies that sprung from mankind's brief, yet cultured, history.

By the time their talks came to an end, the suns had begun to rise, and their expedition drew near a local city meant to serve as their lodgings: a checkpoint where they could recuperate, resupply, and prepare themselves for the next trek of their voyage.

"I enjoyed this discourse with you, Sir Lucius," Renaud said. "But I am no fool as to believe you visited me solely out of goodwill. What is it that you seek?"

The gentleman nodded, and pointed toward the players following from far in the back. "Nothing of great import, I assure you. I merely wish that you would better articulate with us otherworlders of your plans in the future. While I understand why you chose to march through the night, the others were quite surprised by the attack and the subsequent flash of light. Regardless of our affiliations, we are here laboring under one purpose, and that is to see through this expedition to its success. It will be difficult to do so if we are not privy to your intentions, my friend."

Sir Renaud crossed his arms, still hesitant. "I was told your kind thrive better whilst left to your own discretion."

"Perhaps in some cases, but communication is an essential part of cooperation. Only when we are given the full picture can we act in a manner that would allow us to serve with greater contribution."

The man pondered to himself, glancing toward the players, then to Lucius, and then back in a continuous cycle for a moment before, finally, coming to a decision.

"Very well, but only if you agree to my conditions."

"Speak, my friend."

Sir Renaud ordered a guard to retrieve something from a nearby carriage. They left and then returned not long after, holding a curious emblem similar to the ones given to them upon the Order's founding; but this one was a sleek silver unlike the normal brown.

Renaud took the emblem and then thrust it into Lucius's hands.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Sir Lucius," he said, clapping with a sly expression. "From henceforth, you are my personal aide and captain of the otherworlder division."

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