The room was silent despite there being much to talk about; 4 chairs squeaked with every movement.
The man sitting to the east spoke up first, his eastern accent shining through clearly. "It's the 12th day of the 14th month of the 4999th year. We have 18 days, and we don't have a sizeable fight force for this." The man's voice was controlled and calm, yet held the undertone of how serious this was.
The man sitting in the southern seat responded, "I'll deal with it myself; I've been trained and birthed just for this." His voice was barely contained; how excited the man actually was.
The man in the west spoke, "Unlikely that someone from the Nanahoshi clan would be weak enough that one person could kill them. If we choose to take his threat seriously, then we will have to all fight him together." He was barely interested in this matter and just wanted the iron from the mountains.
The fireplace crackled, and as if the northern seat was waiting for that, he spoke up, "5000 years, and we are still going to lose to a monster like him."
"So are we all just going to get our militaries ready and fight him like that?" the southern man asked. Any amount of excitement that was in his voice before was gone; his red eyes glared at everyone around him.
"Yes, it's the most logical and should lead to the least amount of casualties," the man from the west responded to the southern man.
"Then I suppose it's decided," the northern man said as he stood up. "I'll have my troops here within 3 days." The northern man threw a paper into the fireplace; it illuminated his scuffed-up boots and black pants. "Have an excellent night," he said as he walked out the door.
The southern man was next to leave. "Well, I'll be going now; I believe 4 women are waiting for me." He pushed himself out of his chair and rubbed his beard before he threw his paper into the fire. The light illuminated his flawlessly shiny shoes, not a speck of mud or dust on them.
"Unless you need to put in a new trade order, I too will be taking my leave." The west man grabbed a mask from the metal table in front of them and pushed back his jet-black hair; the mask only left his eyes visible—a striking emerald green. The door creaked as he left.
Only the east man was left. He looked down at his wrist and tugged up the sleeve until he could see the wristwatch; he still had 4 hours until he had to be back at the hotel.
2 years later
Kit Arthur Alba's POV
"Mr. Arthur, get back to work." Jonathan's voice was quick and sharp, almost like the training swords that had almost killed me over 50 times today.
"But I'm tired," I groan. My arms and legs had countless cuts and bruises and felt like lead filled them.
"Too bad; the demon armies don't care," he firmly grabbed my arm and pulled me up to a standing position.
Ugh, even in my last life, it was always demon army this or demon army that. I think we should just kill them all and be done with it.
"Okay," I looked down in defeat.
"Good. Now get back to it; you're currently the lowest marks in the royal class."
"But I do hear you at least have some of the highest grades in the royal class, so at least you're smart."
"I... I don't think a broadsword or shortsword is the right weapon for me. I very clearly lack muscle and, well, yeah."
Jonathan nodded. "Correct. But do you know what you should be using, then?"
"Something light, rapier or perhaps spears or daggers... yeah, I think that would be the correct weapons."
"Good job, brain boy. I'll get you a training variation of each one out here tomorrow; I'll let you off for the day, so go get cleaned up."
"Thank you, Instructor Jonathan." I bowed to him and walked/ran to the door.