Chapter 122: Riders Under White Flag
Riders Under White Flags
The atmosphere inside Atlas Base changed instantly.
One second, the command staff had been discussing training schedules and tomorrow’s guild meeting.
The next, everyone was moving.
Not panicking.
Not rushing blindly.
Moving.
The difference mattered.
Marcus exited the office first while Tomas followed closely behind him. Rolf nearly dropped another folder while trying to keep up, and Elaina remained only a few steps behind.
The alarm continued echoing through portions of the compound.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
Personnel reacted immediately.
Infantrymen left the barracks.
Mechanics paused work near the hangars.
Watchtower crews shifted into alert positions.
The floodlights near the outer perimeter intensified, illuminating the muddy road leading toward the main gate.
Marcus reached the command center hallway where several radio operators were already monitoring communications.
One of them immediately stood.
"Commander."
Marcus nodded.
"Status."
The operator checked his headset.
"Five riders confirmed."
"Distance?"
"Approximately three hundred meters from the outer checkpoint."
"Hostile activity?"
"Negative."
Good.
That matched the white banners.
Still—
Marcus wasn’t stupid enough to assume safety.
White banners reduced the likelihood of an attack.
They did not eliminate it.
Tomas picked up a pair of binoculars from a nearby rack.
"I’ll verify visually."
Marcus nodded.
"Let’s go."
The group moved toward the main observation platform overlooking the outer gate.
Rain continued falling lightly while floodlights illuminated the road beyond the walls.
The riders were visible now.
Five horses.
Five figures.
White banners tied to long wooden poles.
No visible weapons drawn.
No signs of aggression.
They moved slowly.
Deliberately.
Like people who understood they were approaching something dangerous.
Which, from their perspective, was true.
Atlas Base looked intimidating enough during the day.
At night?
Under floodlights?
With armed guards watching from concrete towers?
The place probably looked like some kind of fortress from another world.
Marcus raised binoculars.
The lead rider wore a dark traveling cloak.
The others appeared similarly equipped.
Nothing stood out immediately.
No noble banners.
No guild insignias.
No military colors.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Rolf stood beside him.
"You think it’s the guild?"
Marcus lowered the binoculars.
"No."
"Why?"
"They wouldn’t arrive at night."
Fair point.
The Adventurer’s Guild had already scheduled a meeting.
Showing up unexpectedly the night before would accomplish nothing.
Tomas studied the riders through his own optics.
"They look tired."
Marcus glanced toward him.
"Travelers?"
"Maybe."
That honestly made things more confusing.
Because ordinary travelers did not approach Atlas Base under white flags at night.
Not anymore.
The rumors alone made sure of that.
One radio operator approached from behind.
"Outer checkpoint requesting instructions."
Marcus thought briefly.
Then answered.
"Allow them to approach the checkpoint."
The operator relayed the order immediately.
Outside the walls, the riders continued moving forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The closer they got to Atlas Base, the more obvious their reactions became.
Even from a distance, Marcus could see them looking around.
At the walls.
At the watchtowers.
At the floodlights.
At the soldiers.
Everything.
One of the riders turned his head repeatedly toward the helicopters parked beneath the maintenance shelters.
Even at this distance, the aircraft drew attention.
Of course they did.
Nothing else in this world looked remotely similar.
The lead rider eventually reached the outer checkpoint.
Atlas guards stepped forward while maintaining security positions.
The gates remained closed.
The riders stopped.
A brief exchange followed.
Then one of the guards spoke through the radio network.
"Checkpoint to Command."
Marcus grabbed the handset.
"Go ahead."
"The lead rider requests a meeting with Commander Marcus Manfred."
That immediately drew attention from everyone nearby.
Elaina folded her arms.
"By name."
Marcus nodded slightly.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"Identity?"
The radio crackled.
"He claims to represent someone."
"Who?"
A pause followed.
Then:
"He says he represents the Kingdom of Altford."
The command center went completely silent.
Even Rolf stopped talking.
Marcus looked toward Tomas.
Tomas looked back.
Neither spoke for several seconds.
Because that changed everything.
A noble?
No.
Bigger than a noble.
A kingdom.
An actual kingdom.
Marcus slowly lowered the radio.
Well.
That escalated quickly.
Elaina was the first to recover.
"Do you think it’s legitimate?"
Marcus thought carefully.
"Maybe."
That was the honest answer.
Because anyone could claim to represent a kingdom.
Verifying it was another matter entirely.
The radio crackled again.
"Sir?"
Marcus picked it up.
"Continue."
"The representative says his message is urgent."
Of course it was.
They always said that.
Marcus stared through the observation window toward the distant checkpoint.
Five riders.
No army.
No escorts.
No visible threat.
Which meant this was probably diplomatic.
Or intelligence gathering.
Or both.
Marcus finally made a decision.
"Bring only the lead rider inside."
The operator relayed the order.
"No weapons."
"Understood."
"Keep the others outside."
"Roger."
The transmission ended.
Tomas looked toward Marcus.
"You think this is connected to Falmouth?"
"Almost certainly."
Because before Falmouth, Atlas was strange.
After Falmouth, Atlas became impossible to ignore.
Kingdoms paid attention to power.
And Atlas had demonstrated power publicly.
A city defended.
A criminal organization destroyed.
Trade routes reopened.
Word spread.
And now, apparently, someone from Altford wanted to talk.
The question was why.
Twenty minutes later, the lead rider entered Atlas Base.
The security process itself took time.
The horse remained outside.
Weapons were surrendered.
Identity documents inspected.
Personnel searched him carefully.
Only then did Atlas allow him inside.
Marcus waited in one of the smaller conference rooms this time.
Not the main hall.
Not yet.
Elaina sat beside him while Tomas remained near the wall.
Rolf was also present despite Tomas clearly believing that was a mistake.
Eventually, the door opened.
The visitor entered.
The man appeared to be in his late forties.
Lean.
Weathered.
Intelligent eyes.
Expensive clothing hidden beneath practical travel gear.
Not a soldier.
Not a noble.
Something else.
The man immediately stopped after entering.
And stared.
Not at Marcus.
At the room.
The electric lighting.
The materials.
The furniture.
Everything.
Marcus had seen that reaction before.
Many times.
People always noticed Atlas interiors.
Eventually the visitor composed himself.
Then bowed respectfully.
"Commander Marcus Manfred."
Marcus nodded.
"You have me at a disadvantage."
The man straightened.
"Apologies. My name is Edwin Falkner."
He paused briefly.
"Royal Secretary to King Aldric IV of Altford."
That got everyone’s attention.
Even Tomas looked slightly surprised.
Because that was not some messenger.
That was a senior official.
A very senior official.
Marcus gestured toward the chair.
"Sit."
Falkner complied.
Though his eyes continued moving around the room occasionally.
Marcus couldn’t blame him.
The man had probably never seen electric lighting before.
Never seen Atlas materials.
Never seen anything remotely similar.
Elaina spoke first.
"You traveled a long way."
Falkner nodded.
"Several weeks."
That sounded about right.
Atlas Base existed far from major political centers.
Intentionally.
Marcus folded his hands on the table.
"So."
Falkner looked directly at him.
"Yes."
"You represent a king."
"I do."
"And you’ve come to Atlas."
"Yes."
Marcus leaned back slightly.
"Why?"
The question hung in the air.
Falkner remained silent for several moments before answering.
Carefully.
Very carefully.
"Because His Majesty believes the world is changing."
Marcus felt a slight sense of déjà vu.
Count Valen had said something similar.
Falkner continued.
"Stories reached Altford months ago."
Marcus listened quietly.
"The Forest of No Return."
"Berm."
"Flying machines."
"Thunder weapons."
"Cities protected."
"Criminal organizations destroyed."
The secretary paused.
"Most reports sounded ridiculous."
Rolf nodded.
"Fair."
Tomas elbowed him immediately.
Falkner glanced briefly toward Rolf before continuing.
"Then trade reports arrived."
"Then merchant reports."
"Then guild reports."
His expression became more serious.
"And eventually, His Majesty concluded something important."
Marcus waited.
Falkner looked directly at him.
"Even if half the stories were false, the remaining half still changed everything."
The room became quiet again.
Because that was a smart conclusion.
A very smart conclusion.
Most people got distracted by the exaggerations.
The secretary focused on the confirmed facts.
Marcus nodded slightly.
"So your king became interested."
"Yes."
"Interested enough to send a royal secretary across the continent?"
Falkner met his gaze calmly.
"Yes."
That answer carried weight.
Because kingdoms did not move senior officials casually.
Especially not for rumors.
Marcus looked toward Elaina briefly.
She looked just as interested as he was now.
Falkner reached into his coat.
Immediately Tomas stiffened slightly.
The secretary noticed.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He withdrew a sealed scroll.
No weapons.
Just a scroll.
"His Majesty requested I deliver this personally."
Marcus accepted it.
The seal was genuine.
Royal.
Formal.
Old.
Marcus examined it briefly before setting it on the table.
Not opening it immediately.
That seemed to surprise Falkner slightly.
"You’re not going to read it?"
Marcus shrugged.
"You’re already here."
That actually made the secretary smile faintly.
For the first time since entering.
Interesting.
Marcus pointed toward the scroll.
"Tell me instead."
Falkner studied him for a moment.
Then nodded slowly.
"Very well."
The secretary took a breath.
Then finally delivered the reason for his journey.
"The Kingdom of Altford wishes to establish formal relations with Atlas."
The room went silent.
Completely silent.
Not because anyone failed to understand.
Because everyone understood perfectly.
A kingdom.
An actual kingdom.
Wanted formal relations.
With Atlas.
The private military company that hadn’t even existed here a year ago.
Rolf looked like he wanted to say something.
Tomas looked like he wanted to stop him.
Elaina simply stared at Falkner thoughtfully.
Marcus remained calm.
Outwardly.
Internally?
Things had just become far more complicated.
And tomorrow’s guild meeting suddenly felt a lot less important.
Because Atlas wasn’t merely attracting merchants and nobles anymore.
Now kingdoms were arriving at the gate.
And Marcus had a feeling this was only the beginning.
