Chapter 132: Hoplite
Rohan’s hand slipped from Elane’s shoulders. He gasped, hoping desperately that he’d misheard her.
A Hoplite?
Here of all places?
That made no sense at all.
Of all things Elane could have said — a beast, ambusher, scout, even lunatic — Hoplite should have been the one thing impossible enough to dismiss on instinct.
Hoplites were not some vague distant enemy from stories told to children. They were the enemy. The race every human even with a little bit of education grew up hearing about. The dominant alien power that held the most land inside the Origin Realm, that they knew of, than any other alien nation dared to challenge directly, and several star systems in the outside universe as well, to the point that the Federation looked like a province in comparison.
And Elane was saying one of these terrifying beings was sitting right in front of him?
Deep enough into human territory that its mere presence here felt like something had gone horribly wrong on the border.
The Human race’s border inside the Origin Realm was obviously strictly guarded, as well as constantly expanding. It wasn’t like it was right next to the land held by the Hoplites either — there were several million kilometres of unexplored and unconquered land between the two, which made this meeting all the more improbable.
In fact, most conflict with the Hoplites were in the outside universe through the gates where both races had gates connecting to the same pocket dimension, and where the Hoplites sometimes even invaded Earth or the other occupied territories in the Solar System from these gates!
Rohan’s mouth went dry.
He finally understood why that "armour" looked so wrong to him.
Because it wasn’t armour at all, not anymore.
Hoplites were famous for never removing it. Their bronze shells did not buckle on and off like ancient medieval knight’s plating. From the Federation’s careful years of spying and infiltrating, they knew that the Hoplites were much like the human race, where their youth awakened between the ages of 16-18, but the major difference lay in the fact that every Hoplite would also receive a suit of armour from the Origin Realm upon their Awakening that would fuse with them and become their identity from that point.
It grew and evolved alongside its wearer, and it was due to this unique ability bestowed only on the Hoplite race that they stood atop the food chain above all other races in the Origin Realm.
What Rohan had been looking at was not some soldier sleeping in full gear, but a living body clad in its own second skin.
’And judging from its colour, it’s an E rank for sure...’
That was the only upside about Hoplites in the eyes of other races — the ability to easily distinguish their strength just from a single glance. Their armour changed colour every time they advanced through the ranks, and bronze indicated it was E rank.
And as if Elane’s recognition had been the last thing it had been waiting for, the silent figure on the edge of the makeshift bed finally moved.
The Hoplite rose with a grace befitting a knight, similar to a statue that had suddenly become animated.
The bronze clad figure stood to its full height of two metres, and Rohan felt the room become drastically smaller around it. The makeshift bed creaked once behind it as the weight left the frame.
When the Hoplite straightened fully, the dim yellow light of the oil lamp rolled over its plated body, catching on its engraved edges and curved surfaces so fine that even Rohan, who knew next to nothing about hoplite craftsmanship, could tell this was no ordinary armour.
Its silhouette was broad and menacing — every line of metal made to look both elegant and warlike. The helmet — if it could still be called that — seemed fused seamlessly into the neck and shoulders, leaving no visible gap at all.
Then it spoke. Its voice was male, and steeped in the kind of arrogance that came from belonging to a race used to standing above all others.
"Ahhh..." he drawled, as though mildly inconvenienced by the entire situation. "You just had to recognise me." The bronze head tilted slightly toward Elane. "And here I was, planning to leave you and your companion to their own thing if only you had minded your own business.
His voice pounded against their ears like a sledgehammer.
It had no face, so Rohan couldn’t tell, but the hoplite’s tone of voice made him almost certain that it was... bored.
Every instinct screamed at Rohan to get out of there as quickly as possible.
But he didn’t. ’I’m way too close for that to be an option now.’
Seeing Rohan still standing there, the Hoplite lumbered in his direction. Rohan frantically took a few steps backward from the entrance of the building and onto the street, stumbling into Elane as he did so.
But when both sides were out, neither one had acted just yet.
Rohan found the blank face plate more unnerving than if he’d seen an actual alien face.
"So," the hoplite said after a moment. "What has two human F ranks wandering this far into the wilderness?"
Its head tilted just slightly, and Rohan had the distinct impression of being studied like an insect under a microscope.
Neither of the two answered.
"We followed a trail..." Rohan eventually answered.
Having seen that the hoplite wasn’t acting as violent and ferocious as the Federation’s information taught about them, instead asking questions and acting rather docile, he was just testing the waters.
"A trail," the hoplite repeated.
It took one slow step forward.
Elane’s breath caught, and Rohan felt his muscles tighten, ready to summon his spear at the first sign of a lunge from the beast.
"Well, you followed the wrong trail."
The Hoplite suddenly covered the gap between Rohan in an instant, laying a hand on his shoulder.
...And backhanded him in the chest.
Crimson blood flew out of Rohan’s mouth as he flew through the air.
