Realm Lord
Chapter 152: Setting Off

Chapter 152: Setting Off

The crowd exploded in response, a volcanic eruption of human emotion that seemed to tear through the very fabric of the coastal air. Cheers rang out like battle cries, screams of determination pierced the sky, and people launched themselves into the air with fists raised high above their heads. Some were crying—whether from fear, inspiration, or sheer overwhelming emotion, Arthur couldn’t tell. The energy was absolutely electric, crackling through the assembly like lightning during a thunderstorm.

The sound was deafening, a wall of noise that seemed to press against Arthur’s eardrums with physical force. He could feel the vibrations of thousands of voices raised in unison reverberating through his chest, making his heart beat in rhythm with the collective roar of the crowd. The very ground beneath his feet seemed to pulse with the energy of so many people united in a single moment of absolute commitment.

All around them, volunteers were embracing each other, some were saluting toward the stage, others were shouting personal declarations of loyalty and determination. The transformation was remarkable—what had been a crowd of nervous, uncertain individuals just moments before had become a unified force, bound together by Jullard’s brutal honesty and inspiring call to action.

And yet, in the midst of this explosion of emotion and commitment, Arthur and Aziel still stood staring, relatively unmoved by the theatrical display around them. While others jumped and cheered and wept, they remained islands of calm in the storm of human passion.

’Wow, he sure knows how to give a speech,’ Arthur thought with a mixture of admiration and analytical detachment. There was no denying that Jullard Ironvale possessed a rare gift for moving people, for taking their fear and uncertainty and transforming it into something powerful and directed. It was a masterclass in leadership, in understanding exactly what words and emotions would resonate with his audience.

But Arthur and Aziel didn’t need their motivations to be given to them by rousing speeches or dramatic declarations. They had already made their choice. They knew what the stakes were, they understood the gravity of the situation, and they knew exactly why they were here. The cheering and emotional display around them was almost unnecessary—their commitment had been forged in quieter moments, through personal reflection and careful consideration of what needed to be done.

Suddenly, as Arthur continued to stare through the exploding crowd, watching the waves of emotion wash over the assembled volunteers, he felt Aziel nudge him from the side with his elbow. The contact broke through his contemplative mood, and Arthur spun his head to look at his friend.

Aziel had that familiar grin plastered across his face, the one that usually meant he was about to say something either incredibly stupid or incredibly inappropriate. "Sooo..." he said, drawing out the word with exaggerated casualness, "you gonna die for me or what?"

Arthur felt his eyes roll so hard he was surprised they didn’t fall out of his head entirely. He let out a long, exasperated sigh while shaking his head in disbelief at his friend’s ability to find humor in even the most serious situations. ’Idiot,’ he thought, though there was a fondness in the mental criticism that spoke to years of friendship and shared experiences.

Soon enough, the speech and briefing concluded, and the crowd was instructed to report to the docks where their transportation awaited them. As they made their way through the dispersing crowd, Arthur caught his first glimpse of their vessels, and the sight nearly took his breath away.

Five giant warships lay anchored at the dock, each one so massive and imposing that they looked like they could carry an entire city within their steel hulls. The ships were marvels of military engineering, their dark metal surfaces bristling with defensive systems and communication arrays. Each vessel stretched so far into the distance that Arthur had to crane his neck to see from bow to stern, and they rode so high in the water that he felt dwarfed just standing on the dock beside them.

Groups were organized with military efficiency, and after being assigned to their respective vessels, Arthur and Aziel joined the corresponding line. The wait was considerable—thousands of people needed to be processed and boarded in an orderly fashion—but eventually they found themselves climbing the gangway onto their assigned ship, their boots echoing against the metal grating as they ascended.

Once aboard, they were directed to their living quarters for what they were told would be a two-week journey across the ocean. The interior of the ship was as impressive as its exterior, with corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions and compartments designed to house the small army of volunteers they were transporting.

Upon request, Arthur and Aziel had been assigned as bunk mates, so they now found themselves in a modest but functional cabin, unpacking their bags and setting up their quarters for the long voyage ahead. The room was spartan but adequate—two narrow bunks, a small storage area, and a tiny porthole that offered a view of the ocean beyond.

"I guess because we’re not in a guild, we’re probably gonna be set up with other people not in guilds, or even with a guild that has room for us for the duration of the campaign," Aziel said as he carefully folded clothes and arranged them in his storage compartment. "I hope whoever we get stuck with isn’t weak."

Arthur paused in his own unpacking, considering his friend’s words. "The fact that they answered the call means that nobody here is ’weak,’" he replied, his voice carrying quiet conviction. Every person on this ship had volunteered for what was essentially a suicide mission, knowing full well the odds they faced. That took a special kind of courage that had nothing to do with physical strength.

Aziel sighed dramatically, flopping down on his bunk with exaggerated frustration. "Whatever, dude, you’re no fun." But then his expression shifted, taking on that familiar mischievous quality that Arthur had learned to be wary of. "Weak or not though, if I’m gonna be stuck with this group for the next who knows how long, I hope there’s at least a hot chick or two in our group." He giggled at his own comment, clearly pleased with himself.

Arthur felt another sigh building in his chest. "You’re an idiot, Aziel."

Aziel spun his head around, looking offended by the casual dismissal, but when he realized Arthur wasn’t even looking at him—too busy organizing his own belongings—a mischievous grin spread across his face. He began to inch closer to his unsuspecting friend, small sparks of electricity beginning to dance between his fingers like tiny blue fireflies.

Moving with stealth, Aziel positioned himself behind Arthur and gently touched his back with his pointer and middle fingers, sending a controlled jolt of electricity through Arthur’s nervous system.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Arthur shot upward like he had been launched from a catapult, a scream of pain and surprise tearing from his throat as his body and muscles seized up in sudden, involuntary tension. Every nerve ending seemed to fire at once, sending waves of electric sensation coursing through his entire body.

Aziel immediately let up on the electrical charge, and Arthur quickly collapsed onto his bed, gasping for air like a fish out of water. His muscles were still twitching from the aftereffects of the shock, and his heart was racing like he had just run a marathon.

Behind him, Aziel was laughing hysterically, practically doubled over with mirth. "Dude, you should have seen yourself!" he managed to get out between fits of laughter. "You jumped into the air and everything!" His laughter continued unabated, clearly delighted with the success of his prank.

Arthur continued panting on the bed, his body slowly recovering from the electrical assault, but his mind was already working on revenge. Oh no, he was definitely not planning on letting this slide. While he lay there catching his breath and Aziel was busy congratulating himself on his successful surprise attack, Arthur began to carefully extend his shadow.

His shadow slowly began to reach out across the metal floor of the cabin, moving with deliberate stealth toward Aziel’s position. The darkness crept along like a living thing, completely unnoticed by his laughing friend who was still too busy enjoying his own joke to pay attention to what was happening around his feet.

Soon, Arthur’s shadow had wrapped itself around both of Aziel’s ankles like invisible chains. With a concentrated effort, Arthur materialized the shadow constructs and yanked his friend’s feet out from under him with sudden, decisive force.

Aziel crashed face-first into the metal floor of the ship with a resounding clang that echoed through their small cabin. The sound of his body hitting the unforgiving steel was followed immediately by a yelp that sounded suspiciously like a girl’s shriek of surprise and pain.

Aziel immediately began rolling around on the ground, both hands pressed tightly against his face as he writhed in obvious discomfort. "What the hell!?" he yelled, though his voice was muffled by his hands and distorted by what was probably a rapidly swelling nose.

Arthur, who had finally caught his breath and recovered from the electrical attack, stood above his fallen friend with a mischievous grin that perfectly mirrored the one Aziel had worn just moments before. "Dude," he said, his voice filled with gleeful satisfaction, "you should have seen yourself!"

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