King Aldred IV dismissed the court with a calm demeanor, but inside, his mind raced.
The book Father Alric had brought was unlike anything he had ever seen—its pages filled with strange letters, yet with illustrations that told stories of unimaginable power.
After finishing sections about Aurion's rise—its wars, inventions, and weapons—he quietly summoned trusted artisans and engineers of the kingdom.
In the secrecy of his study, Aldred spoke in a hushed tone:
"What you will see must never leave this chamber. These outsiders forged weapons so powerful they reshaped their entire world. I want to know if any of these… tools… can be made with what we have."
The engineers carefully examined the images—primitive cannons evolving into massive artillery, strange metal carts spewing fire, and winged machines capable of raining death from the skies.
They were stunned. The designs were far beyond their comprehension, yet some pieces—gunpowder weapons, crude tanks, and early cannons—seemed just barely within the realm of possibility if they took decades of effort.
One blacksmith, grim-faced, muttered:
"My King… these are not weapons for men. These are weapons of gods."
But Aldred ignored the fear in their eyes.
"If they can build such things, then so can we. Start with what you can understand. Fire-lances, hand cannons, carts that can carry heavy weapons. We must catch up, no matter how long it takes."
The engineers bowed reluctantly. Word would not leave this chamber, but the first seeds of Drakensport's arms race with Aurion had been planted.
---
In Solaira City, preparations for the next diplomatic mission to Drakensport were underway. Foreign Minister Elena Choi was appointed to lead the delegation, accompanied by cultural advisors, trade officials, and a small security escort. President Edrian Velez personally approved the mission, emphasizing that the objective was to strengthen trust while quietly gathering intelligence on the kingdom's politics and culture.
During a briefing with the defense council, General Marcus Delos stated, "No soldiers in combat gear, and no demonstrations of force. This mission is about diplomacy, not intimidation. However, the AWACS will remain in the skies to monitor the situation. If anything goes wrong, we will extract the delegation immediately."
Before departure, Elena Choi addressed her team. "Our focus will be on trade, cultural exchange, and cooperative projects. We will avoid discussions about military alliances for now. First, we must understand how far the nobles' ambitions reach before making any commitments."
---
Meanwhile, in Drachenhalm, King Aldred IV convened his closest nobles and advisors in the royal hall to discuss the Aurion delegation's arrival. The tension in the room was palpable as the nobles voiced their differing opinions.
Lord Brenwick leaned forward with a smug expression. "We should impress them with parades, banquets, and displays of strength. Let them know Drakensport is not a nation of peasants to be dismissed."
Lady Arlenne countered calmly, "Posturing too much will make us appear insecure. Instead, we should display prosperity and stability. Trade and diplomacy are safer approaches for now."
Father Alric, still unsettled from his time in Aurion, spoke gravely. "These people are unlike us. They do not fear kings, and their power comes not from magic but from knowledge. Treat them as equals—or even as gods in disguise—or we risk inviting disaster."
King Aldred remained silent for a moment, his hands clasped together in thought. Finally, he said, "We will receive them with honor. We will not threaten or boast. Our strength will be shown through how we rule, not by brandishing swords and armies. At the same time, we must learn from them—discover their weaknesses, ambitions, and fears."
The nobles exchanged glances, some nodding in agreement while others remained skeptical. Everyone understood that the upcoming meeting could determine the future of both nations.
The royal court descended into chaos as the factions clashed openly.
Lord Merrow's voice boomed across the hall. "We are Drakensport! For centuries we have bent lesser tribes and kingdoms to our will. And now we should kneel to these strangers? No—we must show dominance, seize their power, and make it ours!"
Lord Halvar rose sharply, slamming his fist on the table. "You speak like a fool drunk on pride! Did you not hear Father Alric's account of their history? They wage war with fire that levels cities and weapons that kill by the thousands in moments. You want to provoke that?"
Lady Arlenne cut in, her tone calm but cutting. "And what then? If we bow and lick their boots, as you seem to fear, what becomes of Drakensport's sovereignty? We will become a vassal to these outsiders without ever drawing a sword."
Brenwick sneered. "At least I will not be a coward hiding behind talk of diplomacy while our lands are swallowed by their 'gifts' and 'trade.' They spread influence with coin as much as with steel."
Another noble from the pro‑peace faction shouted over him. "Better trade than annihilation! We cannot win a war against them. We should ally, learn from them, and grow strong through their knowledge instead of spitting on the only chance to survive what is coming!"
The pro‑kingdom faction cheered Merrow's words, while the pro‑peace side hurled accusations of warmongering. The pro‑neutral nobles tried to mediate, urging caution and patience until more was learned about Aurion's true capabilities.
---
The Aurion Republic delegation departed under heavy security, escorted by men in suits with pistols, armed guards, and a full aerial escort of five F‑35s, twenty‑two F‑22 Raptors, two Apache helicopters, and a Chinook carrying an armored black car, which would be unloaded near Drakensport's capital gate before the delegation transferred into it and proceeded with two APCs and a platoon of soldiers, while the AWACS and fighter jets maintained constant surveillance over the capital's skies for the entire visit.
---
The journey that once took the medieval delegations several weeks was completed by the Aurion envoys in just a few hours. Their convoy of helicopters, fighter escorts, and armored vehicles moved with precision and speed that astonished even the soldiers of Drakensport watching from the walls.
The first to arrive over the horizon were the two Apache helicopters, followed closely by five F‑35s and twenty‑two Raptors, all circling the skies above the capital like silent predators. The sound of their engines roared across the fields, startling villagers and knights alike.
As the convoy neared the city gates, the massive Chinook helicopter descended slowly, its rotors kicking up clouds of dust. When it touched down, the rear hatch opened, and a sleek black car was rolled out onto the ground. Moments later, the Aurion envoys stepped out, flanked by men in suits—Secret Service agents armed only with pistols—and a platoon of heavily armed guards in full tactical gear.
Two armored personnel carriers took positions at the front and rear of the convoy as the delegates entered the car. The Raptors and F‑35s maintained a tight aerial formation above, while the AWACS orbited far beyond sight, coordinating every movement.
The citizens and nobles who witnessed the arrival could hardly believe their eyes. The "steel dragons" that had once been only rumors were now flying openly over their capital. Whispers spread through the crowd—some in awe of the visitors' power, others in fear or resentment.
Inside the castle, King Aldred IV and his court waited tensely. Many nobles who had argued for the execution of these outsiders now stayed silent, their bravado fading as they realized the overwhelming force that accompanied the envoys. Those who still favored diplomacy, like Lady Arlenne, quietly noted that any attempt at betrayal would end in catastrophe.
The convoy slowly advanced through the city streets, its presence both terrifying and mesmerizing to the people of Drakensport. The sound of engines, the sight of sleek machines of war, and the precision of the Aurion escorts were unlike anything they had ever known.
---
Flashbacks
Inside the royal court, the nobles were in the middle of yet another heated argument.
Lord Brenwick sneered as he slammed his goblet onto the table. "Why waste time with these outsiders? Execute their envoys when they arrive. Show them that we are the ones who command this land—they will kneel before Drakensport."
Lady Arlenne glared at him. "And then what, Brenwick? You would provoke a nation capable of summoning steel dragons from the sky? We've all seen the letters from Sir Edric and Father Alric—our knights would be slaughtered before they could even mount their horses."
Lord Halvar rose, his voice cold and defiant. "You speak as if they are gods. They bleed like us. A blade through the heart kills any man, no matter how powerful his toys are."
Before Arlenne could retort, the sharp, piercing shriek of jet engines cut through the air. The sound was unlike anything they had ever heard—louder, faster, almost predatory.
The nobles froze. Several rushed to the windows just as five sleek F‑35s screamed overhead, slicing through the clouds like arrows of steel. A moment later, the deep, rhythmic thudding of rotor blades followed—the sound of the Chinook and Apache helicopters descending toward the gates.
Lord Brenwick's smirk faltered, his face pale. "By the gods…"
One of the younger nobles backed away from the window, trembling. "Those… those are the dragons…"
"They've come," muttered Lord Merrow, his usual arrogance giving way to unease. "And they fly without magic… no reins, no wings, nothing. How—how can this be?"
Some nobles still tried to mask their fear with pride. "Bah," scoffed one elder lord, though his voice shook. "All this noise and light—just a show. They mean to frighten us."
But others could not hide their terror. One dropped to his knees, muttering a prayer, while another clutched his chest as if his heart might burst.
Outside, the peasants and citizens filled the streets, pointing skyward in awe and fear. Mothers pulled children close, while merchants left their stalls to watch the spectacle.
"They're here! The dragons are here!" a boy shouted, his voice trembling between excitement and terror.
Some peasants whispered that the outsiders were gods descending to judge them. Others spat in the dirt, calling the machines "abominations." But most simply stared in silence, their worldviews crumbling as the impossible became reality before their eyes.
The rumble of the engines grew louder as the convoy entered the capital, its presence undeniable. The nobles who had once spoken of domination, of taming the steel dragons, now stood speechless—realizing that these were not beasts to be conquered, but weapons of war beyond their comprehension.
As the Aurion delegation's convoy rolled through the capital, it quickly became apparent that Drakensport's streets were far too narrow for the entire formation. The lead armored personnel carrier (APC) took point, carefully navigating the cobbled road. Behind it came the sleek black Aurion state car carrying the envoys, followed closely by another APC bringing up the rear.
Flanking the car were members of the Aurion Secret Service—men and women in black suits, earpieces glinting in the sunlight. They wore no visible armor, no shields, no swords, just handguns at their sides.
From the palace balconies, nobles observed with a mix of confusion and disdain.
"Look at them," Lord Brenwick muttered, scoffing. "No armor, no spears. They think they can protect their leaders dressed like common merchants?"
A younger noble chuckled nervously. "Perhaps their wealth is so thin they cannot even afford mail."
But Lady Arlenne, watching silently, frowned. "Or perhaps they simply do not need it…"
The convoy drew closer to the palace gates, escorted above by the circling F‑35s and Apaches. The rumble of engines and the precision of their formation contrasted sharply with the medieval cityscape.
Inside the palace, panic had begun to stir. The king's chamberlain rushed through the halls, face pale with dread. "Your Majesty!" he cried. "The banquet—it isn't ready! We thought we had days—weeks—before they arrived!"
King Aldred IV turned sharply. "What do you mean it isn't ready?"
"My lord, they traveled faster than we could have imagined! The kitchens are still preparing, the hall is not yet set—"
The king cursed under his breath. "Damnation… they move as if distance itself bends to their will."
Meanwhile, the nobles whispered among themselves as they watched the convoy approach.
"Is this truly all the protection they bring?" one lord scoffed. "A few black‑clad guards and two of those… metal wagons?"
"Do not be so quick to mock," murmured Lord Merrow, his sly grin fading. "Those 'wagons' could crush a cavalry charge in seconds, if the letters we've read are true."
From the streets, peasants stared wide‑eyed at the convoy. Children pointed at the APCs, marveling at the strange vehicles. A farmer muttered to his wife, "They travel faster than a hawk flies. By the gods, what are they?"
The nobles inside the palace—many of whom had boasted of their own supremacy—now found themselves scrambling. What was meant to be a grand reception to impress the outsiders had turned into a frantic rush to salvage their pride.
As the convoy finally reached the palace gates, the steel beasts came to a halt with mechanical precision. The nobles who had called these foreigners weak felt a cold unease settle in their chests.
The Aurion envoys stepped out of the black car calmly, flanked by their expressionless Secret Service agents. There was no armor, no ceremony—just quiet confidence.
And for the first time, some nobles realized that this plainness… was the most intimidating display of power yet.