Chapter 7 – The Nation Elite

Central Street is alive with bedlam, as always. It stretches from the castle in the far north to the Auralis Gates in the south, teeming with merchants, craftsmen, and travelers. Wagons creak, hooves clatter and voices clash in a constant hum.

I stand near the excessively ornate water fountain, my favorite spot. It’s a bubble of space in the crowded street, the perfect spot to sell newspapers and a common landmark for meeting up. I keep an eye out for Leader, as he hasn’t shown up yet.

“Hello, young man.” The voice is deep and imposing, good for an announcer. I turn and almost stumble back to get a proper view.

A giant looms over me, towering from under his glasses. His bald head reflects the sunlight, marred by a scar running from his scalp down to his temple. Thick, square shoulders strain against a military uniform adorned with medals. His broad chest proudly bears the insignia of the Nation Elite: a sixteen-pointed compass made of blades, its north longsword piercing skyward.

“Could I have one of those?” The question catches me off guard, but his eased smile relaxes the intimidating aura, giving him eye wrinkles that remind me of my doting grandpa.

“Uhhh… Sure.” I grab the paper and he produces three bronze coins. “It’s only one Bronze.”

“Oh, is it? Gahahahaha~!” His booming laughter reverberates the air. “It’s okay, young man. Just keep the change.”

“I like your style, guy. You’ve got a lot of spunk.”

“Oh, and the name is Brutus, Nation Elite Captain Brutus Viktor. It would do you well to remember it.”

He’s not wrong. His title alone sends a jolt through me. Nation Elite Capitan. That explains the scar. And the swords at his sides. But I don’t back down. Rather, it feels like I’ve met a muscular rival of sorts. “Thanks, and the name’s Brawler. Rosebell’s sharpest newspaper seller and Conqueror.”

“Conqueror, you say?”

I extend the newspaper to Captain Brutus before another man steps beside him -- a lean figure with silver hair and a no-nonsense expression.

“No paper?” I burble, catching fragments of their low and urgent exchange.

“Captain, we shouldn’t linger. The Princess and the aristocrats must remain under watch. The sixth company--”

The man giant agrees with the Nation Elite hound at his heels. He turns back to me with that same intense look. “If I see you again, I’ll be sure to buy more.”

“I appreciate the business,” I reply, pocketing the coins as they move away.

As they leave, the back of their uniforms comes into view. There, the emblem is magnified, its design taking up most of the back, displaying the globality of the world’s justice. I have to give it to the Nation Elite, it’s a wicked insignia.

Brutus’s giant figure suddenly stops its momentum paces away.

He has read the paper.

He turns to me with a serious expression, a demeanor in between his two faces of dangerous harshness and cheerfulness taking over. It isn’t a friendly expression in any sense, immediately setting up an ambiance of interrogation. “What do you think of the headline, Brawler?”

The clatter of the streets fades into a cloudy hum. I glance at the paper in his hands. The bold print screams: “Rising Tremors of War.”

“Well? What does a Conqueror think?” His every word presses down. My mind races, and then I speak the truth.

“It’s… ominous,” I finally admit. “The tremors are frequent and people are anxious. Earthquakes every other day will do that.”

Brutus studies me in silence, his expression unreadable. “Interesting,” he drones, his tone dropping an octave.

“The sensationalism also sells well. Who would’ve thought that a high-ranking Nation Elite would buy one from me, and give me some extra money at that? Maybe all Nation Elite give nice tips? Hihi~, if you advertise the newspaper to all your subordinates, I’ll become rich in no time.”

I notice the corners of Brutus’s mouth arch. Yet, the tension has surged further. “That’s a good answer, Brawler. And what of this propaganda?”

Inside, the newspaper is laden with articles about Maltrex being the best country in the world, scorning the other two superpowers on the Continent. “Of course, it looks like propaganda to an outsider. It’s called patriotism. Maltrex is one of the better countries in the world. Haven’t you greatly enjoyed your time here?”

“I have a lot of good to say about the conditions in the Royal Quarters. Well dusted. As for everything else, I wonder.” He glances over my shoulder, at the imperious statue of the royal family. “But it seems I wasn’t clear enough, rookie. I wasn’t curious about what a salesman of Maltrex has to say, I was curious about what you have to say, Conqueror.”

When he puts heavy emphasis on ‘Conqueror’, a strong breeze blows through the street, ripping the newspaper out of Brutus’s hand. It flies right by my side, nearly hitting me in the face.

“Whoops…” Although the newspaper is no longer in Brutus’s hand, his piercing gaze hasn’t unlocked my eyes for a second. “Sensationalist news or not, it looks like strong winds are brewing. They’re channeling together into one spiraling mass in this beautiful capital. I’m sure that if it brews any further… we’re going to have a terrible maelstrom on our hands. Are you--”

“Captain!” The Second Lieutenant next to the Captain forcefully put his hand on Brutus’s shoulder, snapping the corded tension between us.

Brutus’s happy face returns, as if nothing ever happened. “Ohhh! Sorry! I might have spilled too much… Forget what I said, Brawler. See you around the capital, and try not to run into any trouble.”

“Sure…”

With a final wave, the pair marches toward the castle, their uniforms gleaming in the sunlight. I watch them go, weirded out from the bizarre interaction.

What the hell was that all about?

As I’m collecting myself, a woman’s tenor interrupts my thoughts.

“I’m so sorry about that… Brawler, is it?”

“Yeah,” I’m happy to hear my name, spinning to face her. My eyes narrow as I see her uniform -- the same Nation Elite getup.

She picks up the discarded newspaper Brutus had so carelessly tossed aside. “And littering so easily, too…”

“Guess it’s not just the uniform.”

“Meaning?”

“That makes the wearer. You don’t look like you’re cut from the same cloth as Captain Brutus. Must turn equal heads though.”

“Compliment taken. First Lieutenant Eliza Tairavic, at your service.” She starts to salute but stops midway, realizing there’s no need for such formalities with a civilian.

I lean on one leg. “First Lieutenant Eliza… They must have every rank here at the capital.”

“No need for formalities,” she says with a simper. “Eliza is good.”

Eliza appears to be in her late twenties. She has an approachable demeanor, a gentle aura that reminds me of a caring teacher. I wonder why such a sympathetic person is wearing the same uniform as the Captain.

I nod toward the direction of Brutus’s group. “You work with that guy?”

“Yes,” she says, measured. “Three years ago, we were deployed from Central Command to oversee… developments in Rosebell. The Captain takes that responsibility very seriously.”

“Seriously enough to read my soul?”

Her smile turns wry. “He’s… thorough. Maybe too much. I’ve been picking up the messes he leaves behind.”

“Tensions, huh?”

She exhales softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Let’s just say… there’s no punishment for dreaming of a better world. Same as your team.” She clears her throat and takes on a steadier tone. “But despite everything, I work well with him. I enjoy it, actually. Captain Brutus is a stickler for rules. It’s perfect for us Nation Elite who exist to uphold justice -- even in times like these. Oh, and another paper please.”

“That so? What a fair hand you offer.”

“Naturally. Unlike the Captain, I prefer civilians counting on me, whoever you are. That includes you, newspaper Conqueror.”

“Is that what set him off?”

“Certainly. If you ever run into trouble, let’s talk. I’ll keep it secret, and not cause I’m a good cop. I actually hate good cops. They make me think they have something to hide. Must be why I prefer the bad. Not to say that my superior is bad.”

I smirk, cocking my head. “Don’t worry, Eliza. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Leader shows up, weaving through the crowd. His arrival feels quieter compared to Friendly Neighbor Eliza or The Tower of Brutus, but the familiarly makes up for it in spades.

“Oh, meeting up with a friend?”

“You could almost call us brothers, actually.” Leader replies, offering an easy smile. “My name’s Leader. Nice to meet you.”

She gives him a polite half-salute. “Eliza Tairavic. Pleasure’s mine. I’m afraid I’ll have to cut introductions short. I need to catch up with the Captain before he stirs up more chaos. Luckily, trouble has a way of following him so he’s easy to find.”

Leader nods, but there’s a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “Looks like I arrived late. My loss. I was hoping to ask things for someone I know. Me and Brawler here respect the Nation Elite greatly. It’s a huge honor, actually.”

“Huge honor, huge enemy.”

“What-- No-- Honor, Huge honor! Where’s Omine when you need a chop?”

“Looks like you have yourself a great team already. I understand, Leader. To the two of you or any of your friends -- don’t hesitate to flag me down around town. As long as I’m not chasing after the Captain, of course.”

With that, she strides off, her figure swallowed by the moving crowd. I watch her go, exhaling through my nose.

The same insignia. Yet they couldn’t be more different. “So that’s a Nation Elite Captain, First Lieutenant, and Second Lieutenant?”

There must be more going on with the Nation Elite here in Rosebell than what’s on the surface. Their numbers have steadily increased since Princess Glace’s public address. What was once a rare sight of Nation Elite patrolling the streets is now routine. Fortunately, their devotion to betterment has greatly improved the public perception of them here in Maltrex.

The world’s peacekeepers’ power ranges from physical to influence. Centuries ago, the Nation Elite globalized the main language everyone speaks today. Anyone with the least knowledge of military art can tell you that’s not something you accomplish without staggering authority and reverence.

For example, Brutus -- A Captain like him holds authority greater than most high-raking nobles in Rosebell, rivaling those closest to the feet of the King and Queen.

What about the ranks above them? Nation Elite Majors, Colonels, the Grand General… I can’t begin to imagine, but I feel like I’m getting a taste of what Omine admires.

Leader steps up beside me, skeptical. “There were more? What, did you stir up trouble?”

“Oh yeah, big enough to get surrounded by three bigshots.”

“Unbelievable. Do you really have to attract everyone like a magnet? Honestly, as expected from the right hand of the Omine Family.”

“Thank you, thank you.” I give a mock bow. “Eliza’s nice, but her boss… ugh.”

“Really? What was he like?”

“Big, bald, and built like a wall with window panes. Name’s Captain Brutus. If Eliza is a good cop, he’s definitely suited to play the bad one. Makes you wonder if the capital’s safer or scarier with them around. He bought a newspaper, gave me extra coins, and started grilling me about the headline like I wrote it myself. At one point, he almost smacked me with it.”

Leader’s eyes widen. Humans can ruin their image in a second, but that isn’t what Leader is anxious about. It’s the fact that it goes both, in all, in every which way. “You almost got into a fight with the Nation Elite Captain?”

“If the newspaper hit me, I would’ve thrown it right back. I work hard selling those, you know?”

“That’s dangerous! Even the lowest recruits in the Nation Elite are serious fighters. You can’t just… pick fights with them!”

“It’s not my fault he was acting weird. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and take it?”

“When… When you put it like that, it’s troubling. But still, picking that fight isn’t worth it. You don’t have to go to the academy to know it, the Nation Elite enforce their idea of justice with a sword -- whether they need to swing it or not.”

“You’re not wrong. They’re strong for a reason. But hey, maybe Eliza can sock the Captain for us if he ever goes overboard. If people like her are with the Nation Elite, they can’t all be bad.”

Leader nods thoughtfully. “True. I didn’t talk with her much, but she seems genuinely kind. I bet Omine admires the Nation Elite because of people like her.”

“I thought the same thing. For sure!”

Leader’s sparkling eyes reflect his smile, and we sit at the fountain’s edge. “Alright, enough about the Nation Elite for now. I dragged you out here for something, didn’t I?”

“Yep! Last night, you mentioned something about the bazaar?”

Leader leans in. “Let me tell you about it. I was at the west bazaar, helping the old shopkeeper, when this guy walked in…”