Chapter Fourteen: The Red Flight Crisis Part One

“Extra, extra!” a newsboy cried. “The Black Sun conquered Eagle’s Nest. No actions made by the big shots.” I groaned on my bed after hearing another awful news from the window. I got up and headed for the balcony to check what was happening on the streets. It had been eight days I stayed in my apartment, only to come out to wash my clothes at the laundry shop; that was enough for me to stretch my legs. Things had never been the same ever since we got back.

It was nine days ago. After the raiders scattered in retreat while leaving their wounded behind, I was lying on the ground, exhausting all my rage and adrenaline rush from pummeling them left and right. My friends rushed toward me, overjoyed to see me alive. Then they chastised me for recklessly attacking the raiders alone.

As the whole caravan began recuperating, Commander Raja ordered all the newcomers to gather in one area to rest for the day while everyone worked. We were happy that the commander sympathized with us. Many were still traumatized and exhausted after that terrible ordeal.

From time to time, people came by to congratulate me for single-handedly ending the battle. Whenever someone asked me to join their guild, I motioned Wilt to answer on my behalf. I was afraid they might bully me if I refused them. Just as expected, when Wilt told them that I was part of his party, about a third of them walked away with frowned faces. We were worried there, but we were glad Wilt told us to stick together until we were back home.

Eventually, the healing braves began tending the wounded, including twelve injured behemoths. I was saddened that three had perished. The Jormungands had to bury them under the sand. It seemed that death only applied to the creatures of this world.

Brock’s broken right hand got fixed, much to his relief. None of us spoke up about his metal left arm. Our attention was focused on consoling Sally. She was still grieving over Travis’s demise. I didn’t know the depth of their relationship, but her sorrow was like mourning for the dead. I understood that Travis never actually died but returned to Earth with no memories of his brief moment in this world. However, I couldn’t help but shudder, thinking that recall might be the same as death.

I shook my head and looked away, distracting my thoughts elsewhere. I observed a group of hired ones arguing over a nice-looking rapier among the weapons and loots scattered throughout the battleground. Too bad we couldn’t participate while they went around grabbing the good ones. Nearby, people were piling all the cargoes stripped from the dead behemoths. We were going to carry them on our backs and shoulders all the way home. I smiled inside my head since I had super-strength. I hadn’t yet told my friends that I was Hercules’s Brave; I would tell them once we established our guild.

Turning to my left, about fifty yards away, the Jormungands rounded up the prisoners. I remembered gossip circulating in the caravan that they were from the farthest north. It was strange that they came all the way here together under one banner, numbering about twenty-nine raider groups. We lost seventy-four braves while capturing one hundred fourteen of them. The rest were either recalled or fled.

Moments later, Commander Raja and his officers arrived. The prisoners’ faces turned away from their wrathful glares. Well, the Jormungands had the right to be furious at them for trying to rob their caravan, and also for the loss of their personnel and three behemoths.

It was a short interrogation, and the Jormungand officers were leaping backward in shock. Most of them collapsed on their feet. I was perplexed at first. Soon, words began to spread throughout the caravan with a growing grim atmosphere.

“The Blood Eagles are marching out of the continent!” someone cried.

“The Blood Eagle Guild?” I gasped. They were the second most powerful guild in this world, controlling vast territories in the continent of New Beginning. The reason why the whole caravan was so shocked was that the Blood Eagles were marching north toward Everlasting End, a mysterious land on the opposite side of this world. Those who had been living here knew why they were going there. They were heading for the finish line.

“That means they’re going to challenge the G-8,” people nearby began talking. I kept my ears open to listen.

“Do you think they have a chance?”

“Possibly, we haven’t heard any news from the G-8 for a long time, plus the Eagles got five thousand members and a fleet of landships on their side.”

“Dang, they must’ve steamrolled anyone standing in their way.”

“That explained everything. No wonder all the Northern raiders fled here.”

“But what would happen to us once they cross the finish line?” someone asked a millennia-old question.

“That’s a good question,” I muttered.

Until now, no one had been able to predict what would happen when the Game of Heavens and Earth ended. Not even the gods provided that answer. All we got were speculations and hypotheses: some said we would probably return to Earth; others said we might disappear along with this world; everyone was hoping they could continue their lives here forever. Now I understood why the G-8 protected the finish line, but why would the Blood Eagle do this? Why would they undermine the lives of all the people in this world?

“Wait,” someone stated. “If the Eagles are heading for the finish line, that means all of their lands are —”

“Emptied.” That word echoed throughout the caravan. The grim atmosphere grew heavier and heavier. This was what Wilt had warned us. A war was about to break, and people were going to get recalled from fighting over the Blood Eagle’s territories.

In an instant, Commander Raja ordered everyone to resume our journey back to the Great Blue Zone. With fewer breaks, little sleep, and several complaints from those exhausted from the forced march, we made it home in just one day. What welcomed us was silence and emptied streets. News about the Blood Eagles’ departure had reached the city.

It wasn’t long for the Jormungands to set up their booths and began paying the hired ones. I earned over two thousand chaffs for capturing several dozen of them. I donated about one-fourth to my party for our flag’s funds. Once we received our pay, Commander Raja told everyone to stay inside our homes, just in case a war might happen.

After four days of waiting, nothing ever happened. It took another four days for the streets and businesses to start bustling again.

When the first outside news came, newspapers were sold out like hot cakes throughout the city, though modern kids like myself checked the internet for confirmation. I was astounded that many guilds had taken most of the Blood Eagle’s territories without a single spark of war and a loss of life. There were some clashes, but tensions hadn’t yet died down, especially the news about the Black Sun conquering a territory, which was very alarming. Because of this series of events, the media dubbed it, The Red Flight Crisis.

Today, as I stood on the balcony, not a single look of relief was found on people’s faces on the street, only anxious and unsettling. The feeling was mutual.

There was a knock on the door, snapping my thoughts back to reality.

“It’s us, Sam,” Katie’s distinctive voice said aloud from the door. “Open up.”