Just as Alaric tried to steady his breath, the ancient book trembled again—this time with more urgency. From within his cloak, a series of faint silver runes shimmered along its surface, shifting and rotating like living symbols. He felt a strange pull, like invisible threads drawing his attention toward the woman's voice.
Her words, previously nothing more than a strange noise, now seemed to ripple through the air in odd patterns, threads of sound bending and folding before being pulled toward the book. The runes flickered faster, hungrily absorbing the sound, drinking in the rhythm and tone of her speech.
The magic seeped through Alaric's fingers, curling up his arm like warm smoke, flowing through his veins, reaching his mind—not painfully, but like a door slowly creaking open after years of being sealed.
His vision briefly pulsed, the world sharpening, the odd buzzing of her language shifting, the words bending into shapes his mind could finally grasp.
(This is priceless… the whole squad's out here roleplaying in the mountains…)
The words no longer sounded like gibberish—they… made sense.
Alaric's eyes widened. His hand pressed against the book's cover, feeling the rhythmic pulse of magic synchronizing with the woman's voice, decoding, interpreting, translating in real-time.
More phrases followed—casual, mocking, but apparent: (Damn… not overheating in Armor, huh?)
The flow of magic slowed, the book's glow dimming as it settled into a steady hum. Language, once a barrier, now bends at his fingertips.
For the first time since their arrival, Alaric's expression shifted—not in confusion, but in quiet, calculated comprehension.
His lips curled into a thin, knowing smile. "Let's see what this 'strange knight' truly says… and who she believes we are."
Alaric's grip on his spear tightened, his posture still proud, but his chest stirred with something new clarity. Her strange words no longer washed over him like meaningless sound. They formed sentences, and the rhythm of her speech became suddenly recognizable.
His heart thudded—not from fear, but from the surreal realization: he could understand her now.
Li Mei had just leaned back on her motorbike, phone raised, grinning as she joked, "Well… aren't you handsome troublemakers playing dress-up in the mountains?"
Alaric's brows twitched, the first crack in his calm mask.
He straightened his shoulders and stepped forward, his voice deeper than his youthful face suggested, accented but clear enough to ring out. "…We… are not… playing." His words came slowly but firmly. "We… are warriors… not fools."
Li Mei blinked. Her smile wavered in surprise as her phone dropped slightly. "…Wait… you… You understood that?"
Alaric's jaw flexed. His chest still burned faintly from the lingering magic, but the words were coming more easily now—rough, fragmented, but understandable.
"Yes… I understand… now." His gaze remained steady, spear planted firmly beside him. "We… are not performers… not… drama actors… not… cosplay." He frowned, testing the word she had used. "Not… 'costume idiots.'"
Li Mei's surprised expression cracked into a laugh. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, her grin returning—warmer this time, intrigued. "Oh, this just got interesting."
Behind Alaric, his warriors stirred uneasily, glancing between their Lord and the woman. They heard the foreign words flowing from Alaric's lips but could not grasp a word.
The captain murmured, confused, "Your Highness… you speak her strange language … since when?"
Alaric didn't answer immediately—he held Li Mei's gaze, the words tasting strange but natural on his tongue.
"I… speak enough… to understand." He hesitated, then, with youthful pride shining through his regal posture, added:
"…And you… will answer… who rules this land… and why… you mock our people."
Li Mei whistled softly, clearly delighted, kicking the stand on her bike and standing upright."Damn… royalty with attitude." She tucked her phone away
The woman narrowed her eyes, stepping off the motorbike with a sharp swing of her leg. Her boots tapped lightly on the stone as she approached, head tilted, studying the ornate Armor, ancient weapons, and the unnervingly disciplined rows of warriors behind Alaric.
She crossed her arms. "…Alright, young prince, explain this—where are you people from? What country hires a hundred guys to wander the mountains in medieval Armor at midnight?"
Alaric hesitated, sifting through freshly learned words, piecing sentences together as the book's magic guided his tongue. "We… come from… a far place. Not… near." He paused, then corrected himself, "…not… your land."
Added "We… are from the Empire of the Selvaris … an empire beyond the… Veil of realms," he said, the phrasing awkward but earnest.
The woman blinked, then scoffed.
"Right. Fantasy empire. Of course. Let me guess—dragons, magic, big evil army?"
Alaric's face tightened.
"Yes." His tone was utterly serious.
She tilted her head, clearly expecting a joke, but his expression remained calm, grim, and sincere. "…Wait, you're… serious?"
Alaric nodded firmly. "Our land… Selvaris… fall… to demons," he said grimly, the words coming slower but clear. "My… father… the emperor … stayed… fight… protect… we… last hope… sent through portal… here."
The woman opened her mouth, then closed it again, processing. She glanced back at the warriors standing like statues, then at Alaric—his silver hair, gleaming spear, and foreign, noble bearing. "…You're telling me you are refugees from… a different world?"
Alaric struggled for the correct phrasing, then offered: "Yes… carrying the last hope of our people… into your world."
She let out a breath, muttering, "Okay… not a prank show. Or maybe the best prank shows ever."
The woman frowned, looking Alaric up and down, then flicked her gaze at the soldiers behind him.
"And your little army here… what, you plan to conquer Zhangjiajie or something?"
Alaric's jaw clenched, then softened. "No conquest. Only… survival." He paused, then added sincerely, "Shelter… peace… safety… if your people will allow it."
The woman sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Well… that's going to be hard to explain to literally anyone." She stared at the armoured soldiers again, shaking her head
Alaric's spear lowered slightly, his tense posture easing as he turned to glance over his shoulder at the company behind him. His voice, though still carrying the sharpness of command, softened with reassurance.
"At ease," he spoke in their ancient tongue, firm but calming. "Stand down. She… is not a warlock… no hostile magic surrounds her."
His warriors exchanged wary glances but obeyed, shifting slightly, lowering weapons but remaining alert.
Alaric exhaled, turning back to face the young woman who stood waiting, relaxed and amused, her arms crossed, watching him like she'd just discovered a rare animal.
He raised his chin slightly, adopting the tone of a prince addressing foreign nobility, though his words came slower, carefully chosen from the language now unraveling in his mind. "…You," he began, his tone formal, "knight… of this land… what is your… name?"
Li Mei blinked, then let out a short laugh, shaking her head.
"Knight? Me?" she chuckled. "That's a first. But sure—Li Mei." She gave a casual salute. "Knight of food deliveries and minor traffic violations."
Alaric frowned slightly at her words but pressed on, spear planted beside him. "Tell me… Li Mei… what is… this place?" His eyes lifted briefly to the strange mountains above, the alien world stretching around them. "Where… are we?"
Li Mei tilted her head, answering lightly, "Zhangjiajie … China." She grinned. "Middle of nowhere, if you're wondering."
Alaric's brows furrowed, his next question sharp with purpose. "Demon armies… are they here? Have… they… reached this land?"
Li Mei blinked again, her grin faltering, her expression turning serious for the first time. "Demons? No. We've got… internet trolls, sure, but no demon armies." She hesitated, studying him a bit more closely. "You… really think demons are here?"
Alaric's grip tightened on his spear, his shoulders straightening, yet his tone remained respectful. "…Who rules this… kingdom?" he asked carefully. "Who… commands… this land? I… wish audience… with your… lord… ruler… sovereign."
Li Mei blinked, then gave a slow, amused smile. "Oh… you're going to have a fun time with that."
She planted her hands on her hips and said plainly, "There's no king here, prince. This is modern China—ruled by… well, not a king. No castles, no royal courts. Just… the government. But if you want to talk to someone important… you'll need to start with something much, much smaller."
Alaric stood tall, head held high despite the strange answer. He didn't fully grasp these titles or the absence of monarchy—but he knew enough. "Then… take me… to… your leader," he said formally.
Li Mei burst out laughing, shaking her head. "Oh, prince… we're going to have a lot to talk about."
Li Mei shifted her weight, giving Alaric a lingering once-over, still more amused than concerned. She tapped the handle of her motorbike lightly, then cocked her head.
"Alright… so you know my name, prince." Her grin softened into curiosity. "What about you? You've got the 'important person' look… what's your name?"
Alaric stood tall, chin slightly raised, pressing his fist lightly to his chest in a formal gesture.
"I am Alaric of the Selvaris bloodline, firstborn son of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Thorian, sovereign of the Silver Crescent Throne, Heir of the Selvaris Empire, Guardian of the Eastern Gates, Protector of the Realm, and Warden of the Ancestral Legacies."
Li Mei blinked at the impressive string of titles, lips parting for a second before she let out a soft whistle. "Huh… fancy." Her grin crept back. "So… Prince Alaric it is."
She glanced over his shoulder at the hundred armoured soldiers standing awkwardly in the night breeze, adjusting their spears and heavy cloaks.
Her expression shifted, brows quirking. "Tell me, Your Highness… you guys got a place to crash? You've landed in the middle of nowhere, and I doubt your… well… 'royal court' comes with free lodging here."
Alaric's jaw clenched slightly, his pride twitching, but his answer remained honest. "…No home… here," he admitted, words slower, thoughtful. "No… court… no… haven." His eyes sharpened. "We seek… shelter… to regroup… survive… understand… this world."
Li Mei sighed, rubbing the back of her head with a wry smile. "Great… homeless royalty." She looked back at her motorbike, then up at the vast night sky.
"Guess I'm stuck helping you figure out where you even are… and how to not starve in modern China."
She gave Alaric a mock salute, light-hearted but not unkind. "Alright, Prince Alaric… follow me. I'll see if I can find a roof big enough for a hundred lost knights."
Alaric dipped his head slightly, formal, grateful. "Your kindness… will be remembered."
She pointed toward the distant twinkle of scattered lights nestled between the cliffs. "Come on. There's a village a few miles down. I know a guy who runs a small hotel. You… and your 'troop' can rest there. You'll… must not terrify everyone."
Alaric nodded, though his pride itched at the tone of her voice. "Yes… We follow you… knight of… Zhang-jia-Jie."
She rolled her eyes, laughing, "Sure… whatever gets you moving, prince."
Behind Alaric, his warriors whispered amongst themselves. "My lord… is she leading us to shelter?"
Alaric nodded slowly. "Yes… Though she seems to think we are… a traveling band of performers… jesters, perhaps, sent to entertain."
The captain scowled, gripping his sword tighter. "Shameful… but… shelter is shelter."
The woman revved her engine again, motioning for them to follow. "Alright, cosplay army… follow me before anyone else sees you and calls the police."
As the hundred warriors of the Selvaris Empire began their first march into the modern world—under the guidance of a bewildered delivery knight—Alaric allowed himself a faint smile.
They were strangers here, misunderstood and displaced.
But they had found their first guide.
And for now… that was enough.