Episode 2 - Heroes of the Continent
People don't know it, but embassies host big and small parties almost every day. The atmosphere varies wildly with each country's culture, but the goal is the same for all: showcase your nation's unique cuisine and drinks to diplomats from abroad, letting them taste and see your sophistication. It's about projecting your country's prestige on the world stage. The quality and flavor of the food, the vibe of the venue—they reflect not just the embassy's class, but the nation's dignity.
Diplomats from various countries weave between tables, protecting their interests and discussing national business. It was only natural we'd get invited to one. After all, the Hero was talent every nation coveted.
"Why the hell are the empire guys inviting us?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
The problem was that the invitation came from the Kien Empire embassy.
"Maybe they're after the Hero? The empire's been fighting those demon bastards lately..."
"They need the Hero's power, huh..."
"...Hey, all huddle up."
The three spies put their heads together for a conference. Just one topic: 'Why did they invite us?'
"If they invited the Hero, they're probably gonna ask her for something, right?"
Pippin argued the empire had some demand for the Hero.
"Since the major's on the invite list too, maybe they wanna talk about the bombing."
Jake guessed they'd state their position on the terror attack.
After hearing them out, I cut in. None of that mattered right now.
"Guys, that's not the important part."
"Then what the hell is?"
"All three of us have to attend the party. Who's gonna handle security?"
"It's the Kien embassy, so obviously..."
"Oh... shit."
Pippin and Jake went pale and shut their mouths. For reference, in this world, embassy security falls under each nation's intelligence department. In other words, we were walking into a nest crawling with spooks.
"We're fucked, aren't we...?"
"Yeah."
"Fuck."
Even if diplomatic status shielded us, crossing paths with foreign agents was a hassle. Especially if they were counterintelligence, not spies. Scratch that—anyone we met at this party was a pain in the ass. Like right now.
"Haha! You must be the famous Major Frederic Nostrim!"
Some random fat uncle stuck out a meaty hand for a shake. Probably some embassy spokesman. Normally I'd try to memorize the name, but compared to the other big shots here, he wasn't worth the brain space. I mumbled some agreement and bolted.
Waving off approaching diplomats with gestures, plastering on a bullshit smile, I made a beeline for the cardinal.
"Pleased to meet you, Your Eminence. Major Frederic Nostrim."
"Ah! You're the Hero's companion! It's an honor."
"Hearing that makes me a bit shy... Anyway, I have something to discuss about the Hero's schedule..."
I had a ton to do at the party. Chat up cardinals for Church intel, discuss the Hero's itinerary. Probe the imperial ambassador on embassy movements. Corner Inquisition reps for terror details and Hero safety talks. Check saintess election progress via bishops. Field reporters' Hero questions, polish Priestess Lucia's image. Brush off diplomats begging for Hero meetups. Swap terror intel with any foreign agents I bumped into.
Mixing half-assed schmoozing skills from 30 years ago with my booze-proof constitution, I navigated the crowd. Then I spotted Pippin and Jake signaling from a corner and headed over.
"You two okay?"
"No... I feel like I'm dying..."
"My stomach's killing me..."
From their faces, they'd been hounded by people too.
"Agents are one thing, but diplomats are scarier..."
Pippin muttered weakly.
"No sign of Imperial Guard spooks anywhere..."
"Duh, they wouldn't advertise it. Stay sharp, all of you."
Harsh orders for the exhausted pair, but Pippin and Jake didn't complain. They'd watched their boss suffer between the ambassador and cardinals for over 50 minutes. Of course, I didn't gripe either. Someone had it worse: Camilla Lowell.
"Whoa... the Hero's still stuck over there?"
"Gotta be over an hour now..."
True to her status as the continent's obsession, she was pinned in the party center, unable to escape. Even from afar, you could see her sweating bullets and fidgeting. She'd begged me to take her when I left earlier, but no sooner had I pulled her out than the crowd swallowed her again.
"Her crimson hair really stands out."
Pippin noted Camilla's scarlet locks.
Already eye-catching, they popped even more amid all the balding heads. Under the fancy lights, they even seemed to glow with a halo.
"Wonder what they're talking about?"
"Obvious. Begging her to show up at their events later."
"Hero's resuming public appearances?"
"Inquisition called—assigning her dedicated guards. Even a healer priest. She'll be back out soon."
Pippin and Jake's jaws dropped at the rundown.
"Whoa... guards and a healer? Even cardinals don't get that."
"They said only the pope gets a full-time healer."
"Hero's on pope-level treatment..."
The two beamed like it was their win. The Inquisition's offer was unprecedented: holy knights, heretic inquisitors, and an on-call healer priest. The Church brass clearly wanted the Hero out of the embassy ASAP.
"Don't get too happy. Terrorists are still loose."
"With inquisitors tagging along, you think they'll try anything?"
"What if some psycho straps on a bomb and charges? Don't assume they're sane."
"Heh, don't jinx it, sir. So, what'd the ambassador say?"
"Just regrets. Basically, 'not us.'"
"Then who bombed the place?"
We were mid-terror speculation when Camilla Lowell emerged from the crowd, heading our way. Finally free.
"Hoo! You guys are all here?"
Her scarlet hair neatly tied, she grinned wide. Pippin and Jake welcomed the Hero; I hit her with a deadpan.
"Congrats, Hero. You're liberated."
"Major, why'd you ditch me?"
"Ditch? I pulled you out—you got dragged back. Camilla Lowell's responsibility."
"I reached out, and you just left!"
"Reached out?"
Er... thinking back, yeah, she might've stretched toward me as she got yanked away.
"My bad. Regrettable."
"Ugh, seriously! You're awful, Major!"
Camilla grumbled verbally, but her face lit up with mischief. Looked like a prankster at heart. No time for games amid the chaos before, huh? Dropped alone in another world—mental slack would be weirder.
Lost in thought, Pippin suddenly grilled her.
"...Hero, you been drinking?"
"Yep!"
Camilla beamed dopily. Just drunk, then.
"Miss Lowell, you seem wasted. Step out for air."
"Heehee! Nooo, I'm fiiiine!"
She wobbled her flushed cheeks in denial. Wasted by the look of her.
"Pippin, take the Hero outside. Jake, grab some cold water..."
As I moved to avert Camilla's black history moment, someone called from behind.
"Major Frederic Nostrim?"
I froze mid-gesture and turned. The balding imperial ambassador had a suited gent in tow.
"...Ah, Ambassador."
"Haha! Sorry to interrupt. This gentleman wanted to meet you..."
"Pleased to meet you, Major Frederic Nostrim."
The ordinary-looking suit cut in for a handshake. Bold enough to interrupt the host ambassador—either an arrogant prick riding status...
"Or the party's security head."
"..."
"Care to talk?"
...or someone with ambassador-level pull.
*
The party was in the annex hall of the Kien Empire embassy. The self-proclaimed security guy led me to the second floor overlooking the venue.
"Drink?"
"No thanks."
I waved off the glass. He nodded, grabbed one from the table, and leaned in casually.
"I'm with the Imperial Guard's counterintelligence division, on embassy dispatch."
Straight fire intro. Announcing you're a spook-hunter to spies—impatient or just cocky?
"Major Frederic Nostrim. I don't beat around the bush, so mind casual talk?"
"Whatever works."
"Good. No bullshit then—straight to it."
He leaned forward, dropping the bomb.
"Here to relay the empire's stance on the bombing."
Not the point—that was the bomb.