Page 1731

Parson could certainly feel the immense presence of the person they were looking for. He’d been feeling it for a while, actually, and it hadn’t been doing much to help calm his nerves.

Monty stopped in front of a tall wooden door and knocked.

“Enter,” came a heavy voice from the other side.

They did so.

The man therein was seated at a desk that was probably too large for the chamber. It wasn’t lacking for paperwork, however. Stacks upon stacks littered the desk, as well the floor and chairs by the tall window. “Ah, there you are. I’ve been expecting you.”

Parson was at once confused and starstruck. This was him? He looked like a regular guy. Brown eyes, brown hair, average height, plain face. Parson didn’t think he could imagine a more ordinary looking man if he tried. The only distinguishing thing about him might’ve been that famed overcoat of white, gold, and black--but the man wasn’t even wearing it. Instead, it was simply draped over the chair behind his desk.

Monty gave a salute. “You honor us, High Commander.”

Parson followed suit but kept his mouth shut.

The man tried to go around his desk but found that there wasn’t enough space between it and either wall to squeeze through. After a chin-scratching moment, he decided to simply leap over the desk instead, but his shoe caught one of the stacks thereon, and he kicked a splattering of books and paperwork across the room.

The man looked at what he’d just done with wide eyes and a frown. “...It took me two hours to organize all those...”

‘Nice going,’ said his accompanying reaper, which was a small tornado to Parson’s eyes.

“...You think Jackson’ll yell at me again if I mail it to him out of order?”

‘Yes.’

“...I’m gonna do it, anyway.”

‘I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.’

Parson was now much much more confused than starstruck. This was really Sermung? The Crystal Titan?

The man spun around to look at them again. “Anyway. You guys just pretend you didn’t see that, okay? That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir,” said Monty, still maintaining his salute.

“At ease, Captain Lamont. Or rather, Lieutenant General Lamont.”

Monty blinked as he lowered his hand. “I... I did not realize I would be receiving a promotion today, sir.”

“Yeah, I sorta just decided it a few hours ago. Congratulations.”

“Ah--er--thank you, High Commander.”

“No sweat.”

An intermission of silence arrived suddenly, and Sermung’s gaze turned to his reaper for a moment while he scratched his nose.

“Oh!” said Sermung, snapping his fingers a couple times. “Uh! Right! Your medals. I’ve got those... um... somewhere around here...” He looked around the chamber hurriedly.

His reaper grew a windy appendage out of its airy body in order to point.

Sermung rushed over to the directed spot and dug through a pile of papers to retrieve a pair of small boxes. “Here we are.”