As he ventured the mansion, helping the guests settle into the dozens of available rooms set up for such occasions, he was intercepted while walking the west halls.
"Lord Schoeller...!"
"Mister, err...Lord, sir!"
Blocking his way, a group of girls, ranging from his young teens to adolescence, called out.
"Err, can I help you with anything?" He asked with a smile.
In each of their hands, he noticed either journals or single pieces of paper, all of which were held out to him with quills.
"Ah?" He watched.
The foremost girl shyly shut her eyes, spitting out what was on her mind, "Pl...please sign this, Lord Schoeller, sir!" She requested as her blonde curls bounced.
"Wait, you all want...autographs?" He looked around at the unexpected gathering. "From ?"
While he was rather integrated into his position, finding himself on the receiving end of adoration from cute girls wasn’t an aspect he was used to.
"You’re the Golden Hero of Newfard!"
"Prince Leon!"
"Ogre Slayer!"
"Sign my journal, please!"
The barrage of requests and nas he had never heard caught him off-guard. With the eager, expectant looks around him, he had no choice but to oblige–
He smiled brightly, playing up his own "princely" title as so girls had assigned to him, "Alright, please be patient, I’ll get to each and every one of you."
As he started signing, the dreamlike adoration he was receiving was quickly intervened by a pair of maids stepping in.
"Please do not bother Lord Schoeller," Irene calmly addressed those in the corridor with a bow as her long, crimson hair curtained over her shoulders.
With her, Iris displayed much the sa stoic nature, "Lord Schoeller is very busy at this ti."
"Ah–? No, really, it’s totally fine–" He attempted to explain himself.
"Yes, Lord Schoeller is busy," Irene said, addressing the adoring fans as if she didn’t hear any of his protesting.
"Yes, very busy," Iris repeated.
It seed there was no getting through the stern maids, though they were right–he was busy, and getting distracted was a no-go. While the maids handled the duties of escorting the guests to their temporary rooms, he walked along the halls, staying near the windows–
"Is that...!?"
"Already?"
"It can’t be–"
–A commotion in the courtyard drew his gaze to the window, imdiately engrossing his attention into the phenona in the sky. A spiraling darkness crept over the illumination of the sun, beckoning an end to dawn.
[Nebula Eclipse: Day One.]
Without wasting a mont, he warped himself from the interior to the courtyard, standing among the others as he looked up towards the curtain pulled over daylight. It was a darkness unlike any other; an unsettling, enigmatic quandary.
Beatrice stopped beside him, gazing at the blackened sun, "This is earlier than predicted...It shouldn’t have been this off."
"Nobody is in their positions yet—shit," Phoenix looked around at the unrest now present among the guests.
"Well, it happened, so now all we can do now is be ready," Leon calmly said, maintaining his composure in the face of the bleak phenonon.
There was no ti to waste, he gathered all mbers of the Schoeller Mansion to his position, even bringing in those from Newfard capable of holding their own in combat. From his count, there were twelve mbers of the mansion, along with a mix of thirty adventurers and trained guards from Newfard, ready and willing to fight.
"Alright!" Leon shouted, addressing them all from the center of the courtyard. "I want five groups–ten people will secure each sector of the land within the barrier, and the fifth group will be two watching the interior. Beatrice will be there, but she’ll be preoccupied on the barriers."
From within the crowd of the fighting numbers, a man with a scruffy, ginger beard raised his bronze gauntlet, asking his question, "Why do we need to waste two able-bodies on the inside?"
"It’s been confird already that there are creatures capable of infiltrating hos without detection from the outside," Leon answered, looking towards the elder butler, who nodded.
"I will stay within the mansion with one volunteer," Thorgul claid, stepping forward as stood with unmatched formality.
There was so chattering between the adventurers before one stepped forward with a tired sigh: a man with shaggy, unwashed hair and scratchy facial hair held his hand up.
"I guess I can take that spot, if you’re fine with ," the man with dark bags under his eyes said before following with a yawn.
["Jon Blue"] [CLASS: Lancer] [Designated Level: 15]
Amongst the peers of the volunteer, there was very little praise for the lance-carrying adventurer, in fact, Leon heard nothing but ill remarks:
"Of course Jon took that spot."
"Right? I bet he wants it because it’ll have the least action."
"Jon, the Coward...What a shocker."
While the comnts were hardly inspiring, Leon looked over at the senior butler, who nodded in affirmation.
"Alright, well follow Thorgul then. Listen to everything he says. Got that?" Leon commanded.
The sleepless lancer waved his hand tiredly, "Got it, Mister Lord."
With efficient decisions, the mbers were split into their groups–
[South Sector: Salvatore, Ruby]
[West Sector: Iris, Emilia, Aurora, and Karl]
[East Sector: Irene and Augustus]
[North Sector: Leon, Phoenix, and Charlemagne]
Accompanying each group were a handful of capable adventurers, though strangers to the mbers of the mansion, the shared necessity for survival brought them together.
Leon stood beyond the gates, looking towards the tall, smooth walls erected by the magic of the witch placed in the nightly fields, acting as the edge of the barrier.
"Alright, everyone is in place...Guess we just wait," Phoenix said, sitting himself down by the campfire with a sigh. "This is going to be a long three days. It’s a good thing Beatrice made those drinks for us."
Beside them, Charlemagne leaned against a tree, wiping down his gilded scabbard with a laugh, "Unfortunately, I couldn’t partake in that witch’s brew."
"I’m still curious about that. I an, I get the Paladins are prideful and all that, but the stakes are pretty steep, right? You could afford a sip if it ans avoiding sleep for the coming days," Phoenix asked with a raised eyebrow as if questioning the thinking of the revered swordsman.
"Let correct you on a false assumption you have," Charlemagne said with a smile, brushing his hair aside. "The concoction would have no effect on if I did drink it, due to the Holy Blessing I have as a Paladin. My mind and body are unable to be tainted by liquid."
"Wait, wait–so you can’t get drunk?!" Phoenix hurriedly asked.
"Not even if I drink all of the barrels in Wuxtria," Charlemagne answered.
"Damn, being a Paladin is rough," Phoenix said.
While the two by the campfire bickered, Leon stayed on his feet, watching the near-distant walls as though expecting danger to erupt at any mont. The nightly scenery was eerily silent, with nothing being seen just a few dozen ters ahead, as if shrouded in black mist.
"Ease up a bit," the righteous Paladin recomnded with a hand lent to the lord’s shoulder. "Your eyes aren’t the only ones watching this area. You’ve got us two, and don’t forget–there’s watchers all around, even people manning the cannons."
"I know," Leon sighed, relaxing his tensed shoulders. "It’s just–this silence, I just wish it’d finally break. I know I shouldn’t want to see a monster, but until I do, I can’t get rid of this anxiety."
He turned around, attempting to take his teacher’s advice as he sat by the fire. Laying nearby was a wall of silver fur, sitting himself against the slumbering beast as he accepted its comforting presence.
"You know, I’d really like to hear how you managed to get yourself a pet chira, Leon," Charlemagne sat across the campfire with a curious look.
"Now that I think about it, the way you tad Hercules there definitely looked like a spell," Phoenix recalled.
"It’s more like...a family ability," Leon brushed off with a wry smile.
Charlemagne quietly stood up with an exhale, looking towards the northern walls, "Hold that thought. We’ve got our first visitors, it seems."
The senses of the Paladin were proven remarkably keen as the other two turned to the sa direction, discovering what crept over the wall.
It wasn’t just one intruder: an entire squadron of yellow-skinned, pointy-eared creatures climbed over. Despite the walls being over ten ters tall, the rather short fiends dropped down onto the grass without trouble.
["Amber Goblin"] [Level: 13]
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