There are five exceptions to the Order’s naming conventions. This is because things tend to get confusing, especially when speaking among peers or in a secure area and still insisting on using code words.

  The first exception is regional names, the way the Order divided the world. There are 12 regions in total, and although the countries as well as the languages within them shifted over time, the same division have held in place. The most current iterations of the names of those borders are as follows:

  First, in no particular order, we have the Land of Fire, which encompasses Japan. Next is the Jade Expanse, covering China, Mongolia, Korea, and even Nepal. The Lotus Dominion, headed by India, spans South Asia and half of Southeast Asia, while the Southern Dominions, led by Australia, include New Zealand and the remaining half of Southeast Asia.

  The Frostwind Realms fall under Russia’s domain, extending through Norway, Sweden, and much of Eastern Europe. The Savanna Kingdoms encompass the entire African continent, divided between Upper and Lower Africa, while the Desert Crowns cover the Middle East and Central Asia.

  The Western Domains, led by France, includes Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Italy. The Misty Isles, encompass the entirety of the United Kingdom and Ireland. The Iron Dominions, under Germany’s leadership, span Switzerland, Austria, Denmark, Poland, Czechia, Slovakia, and Hungary—all the way down to the Greek Peninsula.

  Finally, the Americas are divided between the Eagle and Maple Banner and Amazonia, with Panama—more recently, the Panama Canal, serving as the dividing line.

  -excerpt from the personal lecture notes of Rami Abdallah, Teacher, and member of the Order.

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  What the hell were those bastards thinking?

  They actually dared to come to my house?

  When my father said those words, even I couldn’t help but freeze for a moment. He asked me again — slower this time, and I could tell from his tone that he’d sensed something was off in my earlier answer. Considering this man practically raised me, I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s always been good at reading me, but this time though, he was getting sharper.

  He started explaining about how dangerous it is when strangers, especially foreigners, show up unannounced. In the Philippines, you hear stories about people casually being kidnapped right off the street by unmarked vans and yet, all I could think about was them.

  They went to my house.

  That shouldn’t even be possible. For one thing, only members of the same conclave would know where their members live specifically. Sure, most have a general idea which country a member belongs to, but specific addresses? No. For the other thing, however, within the Order, most of the people who know where my exact house address is, are dead, and there are only four left alive who could’ve leaked that information.

  Unless—

  “You really don’t know them?” my mother asked softly, worry creeping into her voice.

  “No, like I said, Mommy,” I replied trying to ease her concern. I smiled and casually waved a hand dismissively. “They’re probably just those missionary types. We get a lot of them around remember.”

  Not exactly a lie. Most of those bastards do pose as missionaries. They wear and use it like fucking armor and even built entire churches or cults around it, depending on how you look at it.

  “Then how would they know your name?” my father pressed, suspicion tightening his brow.

  I met his gaze, trying to look mildly offended.

  “Father, think about it, if they were really suspicious people, wouldn’t they have just climbed over the gate and ransacked the place instead of politely asking the neighbors?”

  That gave him pause.

  “True,” he admitted after a moment, his expression easing. “If they wanted to harm anyone, they wouldn’t have bothered asking around first.”

  “Exactly,” I replied, putting enthusiasm in my tone. “And if they really are missionaries, well, I am studying in a Catholic school. My thesis is about building a modular, solar-powered engine that can be attached to water pumps or grain dryers, for farm use.”

  I let the explanation hang, giving him time to connect the dots himself. As a Catholic school, my school partners with missionary groups who travels abroad who doesn’t just preach, but also help remote communities.

  “Hmm. That makes sense,” Father said finally, nodding. “They’d want to take a look at your prototype at least.”

  “So, Vi-kun, they are searching for you, because they are interested in your work?” Shizuku’s mother mused. Why does she look proud?

  “It is plausible. Unless he did something stupid that would get him into trouble—again—with the school or their clergy, it seems, that would be the case,” father said, agreeing.

  Mother nodded and explained to Shizuku’s mother.

  “Usually, it’s rare for anyone much less, missionaries, to take notice of an undergraduate’s thesis,” she said enthusiastically. “But his dean did mention once that he showed his proposal to the school priest.”

  I had promised the person in question that I would give the schematics, free of charge, in exchange that I would be excused from that final retreat / recollection students do before graduation. He’d agreed without hesitation. It’s a small price to pay.

  “Maybe he’ll even get an award?” Shizuku’s mother said, her tone half-amused, half-eager.

  Considering what I’m dealing with, I probably should. It will read: Thank you for not destroying the world because of everyone’s bullshit award.

  Father nodded, his face thoughtful but clearly pleased. “Alright then,” he said, his voice firm. “We’ll look into it once we get back.”

  I managed a small smile. The campus priest had probably shown the prototype to others by now. I’ll spin that later and make it sound like those visitors only came to thank me. Not before I properly thank them, of course.

  “Now then the next matter,” father said, rounding on me again, like his earlier cheer didn’t happen and I broke the law in between the interim.

  Then, my world froze.

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  ========================================================================

  I could see my father’s mouth open and the unspoken, what, already forming on his lips.

  Shaking my metaphorical mind, I proceeded to compose myself, the summons pulsed through my thoughts like a command line etched in fire.

  Then, I focused, answering the call and surrendering myself.

  I felt my mind being pulled in one direction, incredibly fast.

  One heartbeat — I was in the hotel.

  The next—

  I stood at the foot of a vast and jagged mountain range, its peaks lined with iron and steel as bastions stood proudly atop the ridges, their gun-towers bristling with barrels large enough to fell gods. Bitter winds screamed across the slopes, dragging shards of ice and grit that bit through the landscape like knives.

  Near the highest crest, half buried in the rock and snow, loomed the fortress: a citadel carved from the mountain’s heart itself. Its gates sealed, its walls were silent but watchful with dormant sentinels wielding flaming flamberges, and great-bows like siege engines, their arrows long as men.

  They waited, unmoving, their hollow eyes fixed upon the path below, as if time itself dared not rouse them. No sane soul would dare approach without invitation.

  Stahlheim.

  I let out a slow, weary sigh.

  “Are the stairs really that terrible?” Nana baa-san asked beside me, her tone amused. A faint smile curved her lips, the kind that could survive this place.

  What she meant was the Ironpath, the metal forged steps, both literal and symbolic, leading up to the bastille’s gates. Each tread a test of patience, faith, and humility.

  “We can float, you know. Hells, we can fly — and fast,” I griped.

  Nana’s smile deepened into a smirk. “He does love his theatrics,” she said, as she began to climb.

  I sighed again, the wind stealing half the sound. “Of course he does. Remind me again, why we couldn’t have this meeting, in my domain?”

  “You’re not a Primarch.”

  “Oh yeah. There was that.”

  After what felt like an eternity of climbing, we finally reached the platform in front of the gate. Not that we are tired, in the domain of hearts and minds, you don’t get physically tired, only mentally.

  Fortunately, nothing happened during our climb, unless you count me grumbling to the owner of this mountain.

  “Would an elevator really be too expensive to install?” I muttered toward the heavens. “K’s right, your guards look like they came straight out of BloodSouls.”

  Despite my complaining, I could feel a faint pulse of amusement threading through the cold air. The mountain itself seemed to hum with it, like the way an old friend hides a smile.

  The gates opened without ceremony, their iron slabs parting without a sound. We stepped through.

  Inside, the change was immediate — like stepping from winter into a dream.

  The air was warm, scented faintly with lavender and lemon. Soft golden light spilled from braziers set along the walls, and crimson carpets rolled across the floor in long, regal lines, as though welcoming honored guests to a court.

  Suits of armored sentinels lined the corridors, their visors empty, their great swords and halberds resting in gauntleted hands. The halls twisted inward like a labyrinth, each turn revealing portraits of forgotten lords and memories with friends.

  We walked without hurry, pausing now and then to study a painting or nod to a motionless guard. The place was vast enough to swallow armies, yet to us, its winding corridors were as familiar as the back of our hands.

  After walking past a grand gallery, we came to an unassuming door—one you might expect to find in any castle. Nana baa-san placed her hand on it and pushed, with a quiet creak, the door opened.

  Inside was a square chamber centered around a broad, circular table. A hearth burned at its heart, casting a golden warmth that danced along the stone walls. Twelve high-backed chairs encircled it, each carved from oak, each grand enough for royalty and engraved with a number upon its crest.

  Several seats stood vacant—the fifth, seventh, and tenth. Yet the chair that marked the ninth hour was draped in black cloth, its absence more eloquent than any presence.

  Even so, twelve people were already waiting, almost all of them Primarchs. When we opened the door, they turned to look toward us.

  Uncle—no, Primarch Konrad Friedrich—sat at twelve, facing the doorway. Behind him stood his son, Wilhelm Friedrich, on guard. At eleven o’clock sat Primarch Diocletian, with Remy behind.

  “Welcome, Primarch, Vi,” greeted Oluwaseun Adewale, Primarch of the Savanna Kingdoms. He was tall, about 188 cm, and looked to be in his mid-thirties, seated at the eight, wearing a blue Nigerian-style shirt with black trousers and shoes. Two spider-bite piercings marked the left side of his mouth and four silver spike earrings, two in each ear, caught the firelight.

  “What kept you?” asked Gerrald Neumark, who oversaw the North American continent. He stood around 183 cm, in smart-casual clothes and square glasses, he looked like he was in his mid-forties, and sat on the sixth position.

  “We were looking at the décor,” Nana replied casually as she took the seat at one o’clock. Behind her, Kuuko baa-san stood with her blade Igarashi already in her hand. She gave me a brief nod as I fell in beside her.

  “Tell me, is it true what these two say?” asked Vikram Arjun Khan, Primarch of the Lotus Dominion. He was leaning back on the fourth chair and wore a blue sherwani embroidered with white patterns, his hair slicked back and a full beard framing his face. With such a look, he looked like he was a movie star in his late twenties. “That your home was attacked?”

  “Not attacked,” I said with a shrug. “More like, scouted.”

  BAAM!

  Zhang Tian, Primarch of the Jade Expanse, slammed his palm on the table from his position at the third chair. He was 178 cm and looked to be in his forties, dressed in a dark grey suit with a black inner shirt and brown tie. “Before we begin,” he said, the accent in his voice unable to hide his displeasure.

  He smoothed his hair back with both hands and continued. “There are three empty seats.” He fixed his glare on the people standing in the positions for ten and five o’clock. “I postponed an important client meeting for this—because these gatherings, as I understand it, are important. But where are the other three?”

  Ryan Michael Lindsay, Archon of Oceania, 185 cm tall, in a biker’s outfit and blonde hair swept back by the wind, stood beside Arnault Fran?ois de Martine, Archon of the Western Domains. 175 cm, grey eyes, delicate features that didn’t hide the mischief in his smile. Ryan looked nervous while Arnault merely smiled, as if enjoying a summer breeze.

  “I agree with Primarch Tian,” Alexei Konstantin Romanov said, the Primarch of the Frostwind Realms. His voice was like a low growl; at 198 cm, shaggy black hair fell to his shoulders and his bulk gave him the air of a bear more than a man. He was seated at the second position and wore a black turtleneck and blue jeans. But despite this, he easily looked the youngest out of everyone here at early twenties.

  “The Primarch of Amazonia being uncontactable is one thing,” Alexei continued, “but Western Domains and the Southern Dominions absent as well is another. Is this a cause for concern?”

  “Well, uhm, sirs,” Ryan began, his accent thick, “Sheila—Lady Lowa, had a bit of a blue with her husband, and her brother stepped in.”

  A chorus of reactions followed. Groans, a huff from Alexei, Zhang Tian pinching the bridge of his nose, and Oluwaseun was shaking his head.

  “That badly?” Oluwaseun asked. “And how did you come to this position, Ryan?”

  “We—uh—drew lots,” Ryan said, scratching the back of his neck before adding a tired, “yeah.”

  “Then he will have to do,” Nana said decisively, and everyone turned to Arnault.

  “My elder brother’s wife has given birth,” Arnault replied coolly, his French accent showing. “Grandfather insisted that he will not allow anyone to ruin the day. Be it friend or foe.”

  More mixed reactions rippled around the table. Primarch Konrad cleared his throat and spoke with solemn dignity.

  “Very well. Now then, Vi,” he said. “You may answer Primarch Vikram’s question.”

  “There wasn’t anything more to it than that,” I said. “They went to my house and asked for me by name. At least, that’s what my uncle told my father.”

  The silence held for a few seconds until Oluwaseun broke it.

  “Hmm. They’ve been getting bolder in recent years,” he said with disdain. “With Vi’s case, that is forty?one incursions in different areas. It is increasing in scale.”

  “It’s all thanks to that ideology coming from your country,” Vikram shot back, glaring at Gerrald.

  Gerrald shrugged but looked weary. “We’re doing our best,” he said, letting out a tired sigh. “But it’s not enough. Considering how hard it is to wage ideological warfare, if it were that easy to stamp it out, we would have won ages ago.”

  “The problem is, that the ideology they’re using now sounds good, does it not?” Vikram pressed.

  “Yes—sounds good—but only on paper,” Gerrald replied. “Unfortunately, with the rise of, ugh, influencers, they use it as a pretense to move people in and out. And if you don’t comply, suddenly you’re on social media being called racist or other words.”

  “Social media at its finest. Is what I like to say but my position is worse,” Zhang Tian said curtly. “My country breathes down everyone’s necks. I have to dance around their rules to avoid getting caught.”

  “That, however, does not excuse failure,” he added, his gaze slicing toward Ryan. “And what does your leader have to say for this lapse in security?”

  BAAM!

  He struck the table again, not waiting for a response, he then turned to me. “Though I despise him for his involvement,” he said, looking at me with clear disdain, before turning back to the others, “our enemies must not be allowed to waltz into our territories as if they own the place. Never again.”

  Ryan straightened, collecting himself. “My Primarch has said she will personally apologize to Vi when she meets him, for the lapse in security,” he said. “She also said she will hunt down those who breached her region. But she wishes to know how the other two Primarchs knew beforehand.”