Hearts of Iron 4 Player's Guide to Save the Isekai World

Paralyze

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2 hours later

If the Royal Academy called the arena a stadium, Erich couldn't see it past one caging the cavemen cheering on the next Essen vs Dresden match. What was once a city of scholars by the banks of Lake Fenix and the waterfall Cascadia Steps had become a den of political intrigue. Its arches, columns, and canals had become artificial in its beauty.

Erich thought of cavemen through the subdued noise. But as the double doors opened, as the sunlight beamed into the passage and his eyes adjusted, the esteemed sons and daughters in red and the honorable ladies and gentlemen of the nobility in their colorful garments occupied the seats.

The knights dragged Erich to the light, and the seats lobbed stew upon stews of word vomit. At the center of the arena, he spun around, comprehending everyone's hate, feeling their rage, their reason to exclaim, and wondering if their anger was true.

The poster girl of the Royal Academy and the descended Hero about to bring justice, a perfect love story. Still, Erich never stated the Hero would do that; merely the announcement coincided with the trial. Sometimes, it's better to let the rest do the work. It gives them the pleasure of stimulating their minds.

A group waited for him before the best seat in the arena, before a platform connecting the grounds to the stands where important dignitaries observed and champions kneeled. Standing in front of the group, as though representing them, was a rotund man in his late thirties but appeared in his fifties flanked by a Lady and Marie.

There you are.

An attendant emerged from the passageways and spoke to the trumpet bearers flanking two doors. Their instruments resonated louder than they appeared, making the grand tune grander, emanating all the glory as their lungs could hold. Then a voice echoed.

"Presenting His Majesty, King Henry, with the Duke of Estrier and Headmaster of the Academy!"

Everyone rose. Columns of knights marched out of the two passages and formed a perimeter around the platform. Then King Henry and the aforementioned followed without much ceremony into their pace or article in their clothing, either out of shame or something.

The decoy followed, dressed in the precursor of the proud and few US marines' dress blues, the dunkelblau waffenrock. Erich's glad he still has the bag on. Nobody saw him smirk. The black pickelhaube with gold designs was just the cherry on top. But the knights yanked it off, and the boos and jeers came crashing down on him once more.

Duke John climbed down the steps and faced Erich. His fists were ready, but not his arms.

"Are you certain this is necessary?"

Erich spat short of the Duke's shoes; Even jumped forward for it, too, ceasing all hesitation as the next wave of jeers begged for retribution.

The Duke pursed his lips. "Forgive me."

Then the Duke twisted away from Erich, and a forearm came hurtling towards him. The strike resonated, sending Erich staggering backward, but the knights held him up. His chest throbbed from the chop, but it worked. A bit winded, but it worked. The crowd cheered over a basic wrestling chop and a bit of acting on Erich's part.

Still, good morning to you, too, Sleeping Beauty. When he left, Annalise was still asleep. She moved around and about earlier as Erich looked at the map, but did her father tell her to stay put? Even the stage was fine. Nevertheless, the red cape around her meant something. Even as they stood face to face, she was trying to tell him something. But it defeated the whole point.