Chapter 5: The Land of Machines Episode 28: A New Journey Begins

Part (1/5): The Guardian's Oaths

Morning arrived with an air of anticipation. After finishing breakfast, we made our way toward the monorail station, the first step on our journey to the airship port. But as we approached, an unexpected sight greeted us—a massive crowd, as if the entire city of Draft had gathered to see us off.

Standing at the forefront were Zekhtau Silverstride and Castro Lycios, flanked by a sea of familiar faces—Uncle Pong, Little Eve, Shenlong, and the five cyborg siblings: Pang, Paeng, Pung, Wallie, and Eve. Lieutenant Li and the other cyborg warriors stood alongside them, their expressions solemn yet full of pride. Even the kitchen staff who had cared for us throughout our stay were present, handing over a large satchel of supplies.

Among them was Kall, his expression calm as ever, yet his eyes held a quiet warmth that was hard to miss. And then there were the many unfamiliar faces—strangers who had come simply to witness our departure.

"Is this… really the whole city?" I wondered, taking in the sheer number of people.

As we approached the station platform, Zekhtau and Castro stepped forward. Behind them, a small stage had been set up, with drones hovering nearby—not just recording, but seemingly broadcasting something live.

"Come," Castro gestured. "Say a few words. Let the people see you up close."

There was no deception in his voice—just a genuine invitation. Trusting them, we followed the officials up onto the stage. But as we stood there, something became immediately clear:

There were no microphones. No prepared speech.

And yet, every pair of eyes in the crowd was locked onto us, waiting.

I stood in the center, my mind racing. What should I even say?

Then, Zekhtau and Castro stepped onto the stage, and the atmosphere shifted. The murmuring crowd fell silent in an instant, as if an invisible force commanded their attention. The only sound that remained was the faint hum of the drones overhead.

Zekhtau radiated an undeniable presence, even in defeat. Though he had lost the battle of Six Modes of Hell, his strength and intelligence had left no doubt—he was still a force to be reckoned with.

Castro, standing to his left, carried a leather-bound case, while Zekhtau took position on the right. Their movements felt deliberate, calculated—as if whatever was about to happen was unavoidable.

Then, Castro spoke, his voice steady and commanding.

"Citizens of Draft—Guardians, Cyborgs, N'Punks, and all who call this city home!"

A faint murmur passed through the crowd before dying down, all eyes fixed on him.

"You have all witnessed the battle that decided the fate of this city—the battle between the Guardians and Zekhtau Silverstride, the Protector of Draft."

His gaze swept across the gathered citizens, his words carrying undeniable weight.

"And the outcome of that battle… was the victory of the Guardians!"

A thunderous wave of cheers and applause erupted, echoing across the station. Despite standing on the opposing side, Zekhtau showed no resentment—only the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Castro raised a hand, and the crowd fell silent once more.

"As promised, Zekhtau Silverstride has agreed to stand as an ally to the Guardians. Today, we present to you the proof of that alliance!"

He turned to Zekhtau, who stepped forward.

Every eye in the city was on him now, waiting for his next words.

With a voice strong enough to carry through the air without a microphone, he declared:

"I am Zekhtau Silverstride." His gaze was sharp, unwavering. "Today, I introduce to you the Guardians—the warriors who have bested me in battle and who shall now be recognized as true champions of Arcadia."

He took another step forward, the weight of his presence pressing upon the silent crowd.

"From this moment forward, let this serve as proof of my oath."

Part (2/5): The Honors of Draft – A New Command

The steady echo of boots striking metal rang out as Zekhtau strode toward Akira, stopping just in front of him. He turned slightly, casting his sharp gaze over the massive crowd gathered below, ensuring that every citizen bore witness to what was about to unfold.

"I present to you," Zekhtau announced, his voice carrying effortlessly through the air, "Akira Wattanakul. A young man of exceptional ability, the leader of this group, and the one who defeated me—Zekhtau Silverstride."

A brief silence followed, allowing his words to sink into the minds of all who listened. Then, with a firmer tone, he continued, "And this… is his achievement."

At that moment, a massive holographic projection shimmered to life above the stage. It displayed key moments from Akira's battle—the precision of his commands, the strategic brilliance that turned the tide of combat, and the reckless yet unwavering resolve with which he risked his own life to protect his comrades. The masterfully edited footage drew awed murmurs and thunderous applause from the crowd.

Zekhtau gestured toward the display. "As you can see, he has earned his reward."

Castro, standing off to the side, opened the black leather case he had brought, its contents hidden from view. From it, Zekhtau retrieved a gleaming silver insignia, one that radiated with authority and honor. With deliberate precision, he fastened it to Akira's coat before turning back to the audience.

"I hereby appoint Akira Wattanakul as the commander of the Sniper Laser Battalion, the Howitzer Tank Division, and the Cyborg Infantry Unit—a combined force of one thousand troops. In recognition of his prowess, he is granted the rank of Major."

The sheer weight of the announcement sent ripples of shock and excitement through the crowd. Cheers erupted, so loud they seemed to shake the very foundation beneath them.

Akira, however, remained frozen in place, his mind struggling to process the magnitude of what had just happened. A battalion of snipers and heavy artillery was now under his command. His mind immediately raced through tactical possibilities—deployments, formations, countermeasures—but the reality of it all still felt surreal.

Before he could fully gather his thoughts, Zekhtau turned toward another.

"The next to be recognized," he continued, shifting his attention, "is someone who has stood beside her leader without fail. One who has acted in his stead, proven her ability, and even used the power of song to turn the tide of war."

A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd at his words. Zekhtau raised his hand slightly, commanding silence before proceeding.

"I hereby assign the Prism Photon Laser Battalion and a specialized Cyborg Infantry Unit—five hundred troops in total—to Yue Lucentelle. She is granted the rank of Captain."

Another surge of cheers roared through the square, particularly from Shenlong's cyborg troops, who cheered with an almost overwhelming enthusiasm. Above them, another holographic projection came to life, this time displaying Yue's most defining moments—the way her voice had inspired change, how she had given solace to her allies, and how she had stood unwavering in the face of overwhelming adversity.

Yue raised a trembling hand to cover her mouth, her wide eyes reflecting pure disbelief. "This… is this real?" she whispered.

Memories of that night surfaced in her mind—of the devastation a single Prism Photon Laser Tank had wrought, leveling entire enemy fortifications. And now… she had an entire battalion of them under her command.

She turned to Akira, searching for confirmation that this wasn't some elaborate dream. He nodded slightly, still processing the sheer scale of their newfound command.

A small but knowing smile tugged at the corner of Zekhtau's lips. He stepped closer, lowering his voice just slightly so only she could hear.

"From this moment on, they are your forces. Use them wisely, Yue Lucentelle."

Yue's pulse pounded in her ears. She glanced up at the imposing hologram behind them, depicting the towering forms of Prism Photon Laser Tanks. There was a sense of both responsibility and pride welling inside her.

The weight of command had just been placed upon their shoulders. And this… was only the beginning.

Part (3/5): Rising Commanders – The Honors Continue

The applause continued to thunder through the air as Zekhtau moved to the next member of the team, his expression radiating both pride and admiration for the warriors before him.

Stopping in front of Mirelle, he regarded her with a smile—a mix of recognition and respect. His voice rang out once more, powerful and commanding.

"Next… we have the one who turns dire situations into opportunities. The one who adapts seamlessly to her leader's strategies. The one who nullifies electricity, burns and freezes even the toughest machines, and transforms the clearest water into an unbreakable mirror."

Mirelle blinked, slightly taken aback. She hadn't expected to be introduced in such a way.

Zekhtau pressed on, his words carrying weight.

"As recognition of her talent, I hereby assign her command over the Long-Range Missile Artillery Unit, the Mini-Nuclear Tank Division, and a specialized Cyborg Infantry Unit—five hundred troops in total. In honor of her mastery in magic and unparalleled intelligence, I grant her the rank of Captain."

A wave of cheers and applause erupted from the crowd. Another massive holographic projection appeared above them, displaying moments from Mirelle's previous battles—her flames consuming enemy units, her frost encasing war machines in an icy grip, rendering them fragile and useless.

Standing at the center of attention, Mirelle raised a hand lightly to her chest, feeling a strange weight settle in. Mini-nuclear tanks… She frowned slightly. We never saw these in battle. Zekhtau must have held them back. If he had deployed them… we might not have survived.

Despite the unease lingering in her mind, she offered a composed smile and acknowledged the cheers with a small nod, taking in the moment with quiet confidence.

Zekhtau didn't allow the momentum to wane. Moving swiftly, he stopped in front of Draco, his expression one of immense pride.

"And now…," he announced, his voice filled with fervor, "we recognize the fiercest warrior among us. The one who never hesitates to charge into battle. The one who fears no danger, fights with relentless spirit, and pours his all into every strike. His strength in close combat is unmatched, his blazing discus an unstoppable force, and his ability to manipulate weight is a power few could ever hope to wield."

Draco straightened at the praise, his presence commanding attention as murmurs rippled through the audience.

"But beyond his raw strength," Zekhtau continued, "he is also a fighter who has mastered the art of aerial combat, proving that the skies belong to him."

Zekhtau lifted a hand toward the crowd as he made the final declaration.

"For his courage and unwavering resolve, I bestow upon him command of the Spear Vanguard Unit and an elite Cyborg Infantry Division—five hundred troops in total. With this, I grant him the rank of Captain."

The roar of approval was deafening. Draco glanced around at the sea of people before him, his grin widening. Raising a hand, he gave a casual wave—though it was clear he wasn't entirely used to being in the spotlight. Still, he couldn't deny the pride swelling within him.

"Thank you!" he called out, his voice filled with infectious enthusiasm.

The crowd continued to cheer, their voices merging into a single, powerful force of celebration.

And with that, the honors continued, each name called out marking another turning point in the ever-evolving legacy of The Guardians of Arcadia.

Part (4/5): The Last Honors – A Legacy of Strength

Zekhtau nodded in satisfaction before moving to the next in line, as if his mission for the day was far from over.

Stepping in front of Elina Rayforge, his gaze softened with warmth, pride evident in his expression. He turned to the crowd, his voice carrying unwavering authority.

"And next… my beloved niece—Elina Rayforge."

A quiet murmur rippled through the audience. Elina stood tall, her posture graceful, though her sharp eyes reflected a hint of unease. Zekhtau continued.

"As you all know, she already holds a high rank within the Guardian Forces. A commander of great skill and unwavering responsibility—one who has earned her place through discipline and merit. But today, I seek to further empower her so that she may continue to serve at her fullest potential."

Pausing for a brief moment, he then declared with unwavering confidence:

"I hereby grant command over the Guardian Tank Division and the Anti-Aircraft Defense Corps to my niece, Elina Rayforge!"

The applause that followed was thunderous—perhaps the loudest yet. It was impossible to ignore the silent yet obvious expectation in Zekhtau's sharp gaze: "Anyone who doesn't cheer for my niece… will answer to me."

Elina inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, offering a subtle, reserved smile. Even if she was taken aback by the announcement, she did not object. Her pride and composure remained unwavering.

The cheers carried on, filling the air with energy and excitement.

But there was one last name left.

Zekhtau stepped toward the final member of the team, his expression returning to its most serious state yet.

"And lastly…" He let the words settle, ensuring all eyes were fixed on him before continuing.

"The one who will bring balance between technology and nature to Draft. A mind filled with innovation and an unshakable will to reshape the future. The AI with a heart—a genius who has stood behind this team's every success…"

His voice rang clear as he spoke the name with absolute reverence.

"Osiris."

The young android stood firm, yet her glowing eyes betrayed the slightest flicker of surprise. She hadn't expected such a grand introduction.

Zekhtau pressed on, his conviction unwavering.

"I hereby grant full command over Draft's Drone Army and an Elite Cyborg Infantry Unit of five hundred troops. With this, I bestow upon Osiris the rank of Captain—a guiding light in the dawn of a new era."

A deafening cheer erupted once more.

Osiris scanned the massive crowd, watching as they celebrated her in a way she had never experienced before. Slowly, she raised a hand and gave a small wave—just as Draco had earlier.

To her surprise, the cheering intensified.

"…Not bad," she muttered to herself, a faint but genuine smile appearing on her lips. She wasn't one to seek the spotlight, but the feeling of being recognized, accepted… even admired—that wasn't so bad at all.

And with that, the final honors were given.

The Guardians of Arcadia had risen—not just as warriors, but as leaders of a new era.

Part (5:5): The Guardians' Oath – A City's Promise

Zekhtau stepped back to the center of the stage, surveying the massive crowd before him. The deafening cheers echoed through the air, reverberating like thunder. Then, with a single raised hand, he commanded silence.

It was instantaneous. The electric energy that had surged through the people now stilled, as if time itself had paused. Every pair of eyes remained locked on the towering figure of the Guardian of Draft, a man whose mere presence commanded unwavering attention.

"But their mission is far from over."

His voice rang out—strong, unwavering, and filled with purpose. A quiet hush fell over the square as the weight of his words settled upon the gathered citizens.

"They have a duty that extends beyond these walls… a mission to eradicate the Chaos and restore balance to Arcadia."

The gravity in his tone sent shivers down the spines of those who listened. He let the words linger, his gaze sweeping over the team standing before him.

"And so, the forces I have entrusted to them will not be for war alone," Zekhtau continued, his voice steady. "They will also serve as the shield and foundation of this city. While these warriors—the Heroes of Arcadia—carry out their mission, our armies will remain here, rebuilding, protecting, and ensuring that when they return… they return to a home stronger than before."

His eyes shifted back to the sea of people, his voice rising with certainty.

"Draft shall stand as both their sanctuary and their fortress. And we—all of us—will await their return, not as wanderers, but as victors."

A roar of approval erupted through the crowd. The air vibrated with the sheer force of thousands of voices uniting as one. It was not just a send-off—this was a declaration.

Zekhtau lifted his head high, delivering his final words with unshakable resolve.

"We thank you for your courage. We stand behind you as you forge a path forward. May you travel safely, and may fortune favor the brave… our Guardians of Arcadia!"

The chant came in waves, rising in intensity until it shook the very ground beneath them.

"Guardians of Arcadia! Guardians of Arcadia!"

Akira, standing in the center of it all, struggled to maintain a neutral expression as his thoughts raced.

"This was all planned, wasn't it? We've just been turned into Draft's official heroes… and we didn't even see it coming."

He sighed inwardly, rubbing his temples.

"That damn centaur never changes—always scheming something."

If he had known beforehand, he would have definitely refused.

But then he looked down.

The faces in the crowd—so full of hope, admiration, and belief—made something within him shift. There was no deception in their eyes, only genuine faith in their protectors. Even if this had been a political maneuver, it didn't change what was now real to these people.

Their city had chosen to believe in them.

Akira took a slow breath, his lips curling into a small, resigned smile.

"Well… if this is how it's going to be… then I'd better make sure we live up to it."