MM - Chapter 238 - SHADOWS OF WAR

Torune of CronGate

- Central Silvergate Highlands, ZionLine -

The air in the command tent was heavy with stale sweat and simmering fury thick enough to choke on. Torune paced, the weight of attributes and his domain grinding the gravel beneath his heels into dust. Spittle flew as he suddenly whirled on the trembling messenger knelt before him.

“What do you mean, Vardus failed?!” Torune’s roar carried physical force, sending the young boy rolling backward to splash up against the tent’s central pole. His tirade extended as the canvas shook. “He has a mental ability and six experts supporting him! Six! How could they possibly have failed to sweep away a handful of insignificant worms?!”

“I… uhh…” The messenger’s words caught in his throat. A wet crunch filled the small space as Torune’s armored boot caved in the boy’s knee. Metal broke through pulped flesh and bone, but no scream erupted as his domain slid into the boy’s gaping mouth, gagging him completely. He thrashed and convulsed on the floor but was helpless as his other leg received the same treatment.

Torune’s frustration could not be solely placed on the failure of his scouts. Since returning, the Halnugen had been dodgy about revealing what forced them out of the mountains. It didn’t matter. So long as they took care of KongRu as promised, then his victory was assured. He had more than enough tools in his arsenal to overwhelm Astra Infernum, especially after betting most of his considerable fortunes on the coming battle. It would not end well for his enemies. There was no way an upstart kid with no backing could possibly match the generational wealth that Torune came from.

Without missing a beat, the next guilder in line to deliver bad news stepped forward, eyes most certainly not drifting to his predecessor. His face was pale, but his voice miraculously remained steady. “Master Torune! The last four scheduled reports from our embedded spies have failed to arrive.”

Torune paused in grinding his heel deeper into the boy’s misery. His head tilted, rage momentarily frozen by genuine shock. “How is that possible?”

“Because incompetence is too useless a fruit to fall far from the bush.” A cool, feminine voice from the tent’s entrance cut through the tension.

Peak Master Lavigne Monroe of DyingNight strode in, ornate silver armor catching rays from the rising sun and sending them skittering through the tent. She took one look at the boy’s broken legs and tear-streaked face, then tapped him with a boot. In a flash of green light, his limbs were restored. 

Torune's grin turned evil, expression one of pure malice as he proceeded to break the boy’s legs all over again. 

Laveen’s lips twisted, eyes the color and emotion of black char fixed on the old bastard. “It appears your disciples have stumbled into a bit of a snag. Since you’re having so much trouble, shall I show you how to set a proper ambush?”

Raine KongRu

- Recluse Mountains, ZionLine -

Raine found the next scout huddled behind a rocky outcrop, her focus entirely dedicated to the skirmish about to unfold in the pass below. He dropped from the sky, landing without a sound. The Cloak of Amanesh drew in and swallowed the dawn light; the blackness engulfing him was almost more eye-catching than not, but it hardly mattered now.

Bloodlust spiked, locking her muscles with fear long enough for Last Chance’s Gambit to appear in his hand. He covered her mouth to stifle a scream while drawing the short blade across her throat. [-6,239] At level fifteen, the oblivious woman barely had a thousand maximum health. Almost before he could complete the motion, she exploded into stardust. A pair of gloves dropped to sink into the snow.

He settled into her former position, watching with cold satisfaction as his Vaaterrans chewed through another contingent of guilders. Unlike the previous twelve, this squad’s red and orange armbands marked them as belonging to DyingNight. They had come in force, not bothering to set a trap or hide their numbers. They descended on his woefully outnumbered conroi and were promptly slaughtered like all the others.

The enemy’s utter lack of intelligence was entirely expected; it was called military intelligence for a reason. Without the steady stream of information from their scouts and spies, they were fighting blind, their only choice sending ever-larger forces in the hope of finally receiving solid intel. While their fallen soldiers might revive after five minutes, the information they could deliver was far from revealing.

In the chaotic mess of close-quarters combat, it was hard enough to track the foe directly in front of you. Even the vods they took failed to catch the streaking shadows that sliced through an entire battalion in a blink. Most were cast into darkness without ever knowing how they died. All they could honestly relay was that one moment, they were winning, and the next, they were dead.

Eventually, the truth of Varak’s elites would be revealed, but it would not be from the spies tucked into Astra’s ranks. Raine’s orders had made sure of that. In the first few engagements, Varak’s people had subtly maneuvered themselves, ensuring the spies were pushed from behind by their supposed ‘allies’ until they were on the very front lines. The spies became the first casualties in every ambush. Of the twenty-seven deaths Astra had suffered so far, only five were loyal guilders. Mel had resurrected each one.

As for the spies, after their souls returned to the revival point in Hammer Smith Town, several had attempted to log out to deliver their urgent messages. They awoke not in their beds, but in sealed, soundproofed, and jammed chambers deep beneath Belehorn Tower. They were Morty’s toys now; whether they could be used again in the future was yet to be seen. Raine had faith in the AI’s persuasiveness.

There was little concern of the Phoenix elites coming to scout, after all, Raine had made it abundantly clear that approaching him recklessly would only cause them to suffer lost levels and gear. They would come at him together, at a time of their choosing, when all the cards were in their hands. Not out here, in the passes, where there were so many unknowns.

Far to the left, in another pass of the same mountain, yet another wave of enemy troops launched themselves at one of his conrois. They died just as quickly as the last, their dropped equipment adding to the growing war chest. This entire situation was the very reason Raine had never included anti-espionage clauses in the standard guild contracts. A spy was a weapon, and like any weapon, it could be pointed in many directions.

Thanks to every last known spy being contained within Mel’s cohort, Torune and DyingNight had no idea that only a mere 375 of Astra’s guilders were present in these forward passes. The other 39 cohorts had taken paths that looped back on themselves, allowing the main force to regroup into a solidified, hidden whole. Only Mel’s cohorts—seeded with the Vah-terrans and spies—continued through the passes that led all the way down to the highlands, acting as the perfect bait.

Soon, it would be time for the main force to make its move. But not yet. When faced with such an overwhelming disparity of numbers, it was essential to chip away at the hide of their enemy until a thrust for the heart could be made. In the meantime, they were hunting down the hoards of treasure Mel had spotted while scouting.

Raine continued to range ahead of Mel’s advancing cohort, a ghost sliding over the peaks, flying high in the clouds, and dropping down to eliminate any scouts he found. Because her cohort was constrained to a few predictable passes, the enemy scouts were relatively easy to locate and dispatch. 

The only weakness in his plan was the concentration of elite strength at the forefront. All the fighters capable of stopping the Phoenix Elites were gathered here, far from the main force. If he and Morty somehow missed a spy, or if the enemy grew wise and decided to circle around to randomly search the countless other passes, then Astra would suffer possibly catastrophic losses. That was why Raine had given each of his battlemasters a Guilder Summoning Scroll. If they were discovered, he could be brought back in an instant. 

The minutes stretched into tension-soaked hours, and the death toll on both sides mounted. Thankfully, with the Vah-terrans claiming complete victory in each engagement, Mel was able to jet from pass to pass, resurrecting the dead for minimal Superiority loss. His people were already at a disadvantage in terms of levels, which was partially offset by the fact that many of them sported complete sets of equipment. Meanwhile, the damage CronGate suffered in previous engagements shown through in their patchwork gear.

DyingNight was no better off. They had suffered just as horrifically at the hands of the kingdom’s soldiers and ever-present bandits as any other guild.

By now, the assaults on his people had swelled in size and ferocity as the enemy grew more desperate for answers. A chime in Raine’s interface broke his concentration. It was a message from Pamalaiha. “As commanded, I have reached level fifteen, Master. May I return to your side?”

Raine did not bother to type a response. He drew another Guilder Summoning Scroll from his inventory and activated it. The air before him tore open, a shimmering black circle rent in space. Pamalaiha stepped through, her movements stiff with the disorientation of freshly-acquired attributes. 

She had changed significantly. Her armor was a complete set of level fifteen gear in a sleek and dark style, enhancing her attributes considerably. Danger radiated from her form, but he could see through the veneer. Pamalaiha had no clue how to properly utilize her newfound power. She was already faster and stronger than on Earth; learning to command that strength would take time and practice, how much practice would depend entirely on talent.

“Welcome back.” Raine greeted her with a genuine smile. “You’ll join Mel’s cohort below. There is no better way to get used to your new strength than by jumping into the thick of it.”

She nodded, already turning to descend the peak when he stopped her. “Here.”

Pamalaiha’s hand shot out, snatching the small item he lobbed her way. Crystal blue eyes widened as she read the item’s description, her mouth hanging slightly open.

[Shadow Weaver Mask: (Compatibility Check Required) Upon successful attunement, grants access to a rare, unique class specializing in illusion and stealth]

“Thank you, Master!” She dropped to both knees, her head pressing against the harsh, rocky ground in a submissive display of gratitude.

“Before you use that,” Raine’s voice was low and serious, his gaze constantly roaming the nearby peaks, “I need to tell you the truth about Connection. This information is one of my most valuable secrets, so I expect you to never utter a word of it. Understood?”

“Yes, of course, Master!” 

[My silence shall be as absolute as my desire for your seed.] Pamalaiha trembled at the thought she didn’t dare speak aloud.

“Good.” Raine nodded. After confirming once more that they were alone, he knelt, whispering in her ear. “Connection is an attribute that the natives of this world do not possess. It is unique to us from Earth. It is a direct link between our brains, safely tucked inside our headsets, and Vaateaire. It isn’t merely a means to increase the power of the skills we use here; it is a literal connection to a world that isn’t our own. Through that connection, we gain the ability to manipulate.”

Raine punctuated his words by flexing his Connection, instantly flattening the snow in a five-meter radius. Pamalaiha’s eyes flew wide as she was pressed into the ground as though gravity had suddenly doubled.

His tone grew strained, stressing the next point. “The secret to what I’m doing lies in the complexity of the human brain. Our headsets have to take all that complexity and distill it into electrical signals. If any portion of the sent signals relays conflicting information, such as move left leg left, while another part says move left leg right, your leg will move in whichever direction the dominant portion of the signal demanded.

However,” he continued, “the movement will be slow, awkward, and unable to be boosted by Discipline. As you well know, emotions are just chemicals birthed from the same electrical pulses responsible for thoughts and memories. They can easily jam up the signal you want to send. To fully manipulate the world like this, you must find a perfect balance between thought and emotion, sending the most clear signals possible.”

“I… believe I understand. Once my thoughts are clear, how precisely do I invoke the connection?”

“It’s as easy as a thought, and even simpler than willing Discipline into specific parts of your body. For now, you’ll be limited to slightly firming or thinning the air. Trying to go beyond that without the attributes to back it up will do nothing. Go ahead and use the mask. Take as long as you need to figure out your Connection and new skills. Ask questions. While I’m not intimately familiar with that rare class, I’m sure I can point you in the right direction, at least.”

“Thank you again, my Master.”

The heat she put into the word ‘master’ sent tingles racing up Raine’s spine, and he stiffened, keeping his thoughts to himself. Don’t tell me I’m actually starting to like that. Whatever, who wouldn’t enjoy hearing that coming from a woman like her?

Pamalaia angled her head even lower to hide her smile. When she raised it a moment later, he was already gone, having leaped to a distant peak, dashing across the skies like a martial god from legend.

Pamalaiha Shroufand

- Recluse Mountains, ZionLine -

As predicted for a Reejen-enhanced, expert trained by the vaunted Noroji Clan, Pamalaiha had no issue activating the mask. Upon clicking the button in her interface, a notification appeared demanding she channel murderous intent into the artifact. The instant she did, energetic shadows swarmed from it to wrap around her face. The more they flowed from the mask, the more it disintegrated and reformed on her flesh. Within moments, it had become a second skin; a perfect fit for her features in every way.

The flood of sudden power and speed that assaulted her senses was beyond delicious. Already, she was hopelessly addicted to the trumpeting calls of each level-up and the surge of strength that accompanied them. This was so much better. Instead of five or ten points evenly spread, she received nearly fifty all at once. She broke through all five thresholds, her body practically levitating with newfound energy. The toes of her slippers curled into the harsh soil.

As instructed previously, Pamalaiha lowered into the Qigong stance of her patriarch and awkwardly swept through the same dozen movements over and over. As she slowly grew accustomed to her new strength, she reviewed the skill store. Seeing the many powerful new options, she finally understood why Raine insisted she purchase only the bare minimum general skills.

While he had mentioned requesting help if needed, she did not see the point. With her limited Attunement, the few choices she could make at this juncture were obvious. Not ten minutes after she made the final one and began to play with her new tools of death, a commotion further down the pass drew her attention.

Her jubilation vanished in a beat upon spotting hundreds of figures appearing atop a low ridge. Their polished armor was a grim forest of steel backed by the morning sun. Suddenly, a massive energy beam tore through the air. It was a roaring, incandescent spear that vaporized the snow and soil in its path, carving a five-meter-deep, molten trench down the pass, straight toward Mel’s conroi.

Just before reducing them to globs of superheated flesh, Raine appeared to block its path. Pamalaiha’s heart seized as he remained steadfast, brazenly standing in the beam’s way as though it were possible for any man to stop such a thing. With a guttural roar that echoed off the peaks, he swung an ornate two-handed sword in a powerful, underhanded arc.

The ground before him split open, a yawning chasm of dancing lights rose to meet the coming storm of energy. The two forces met with a cataclysmic explosion that shook the mountain so fiercely she felt it beneath her feet from such a vast distance. A shockwave of superheated steam and pulverized rock erupted outward, obscuring the pass.

There was no time for thought. Pamalaiha dove from the peak, placing her complete trust in the very short training her patriarch had provided. The ground rushed up to meet her. For a terrifying second, panic flared. The images of her lost siblings swelled in her mind’s eye, and with their ever-present support, she fought down the fear. Focusing her will, she aligned her emotions and thoughts.

Just before impact, she demanded the air to solidify beneath her feet and pushed. Lunge sent her shooting forward at speeds she had yet to practice. The wind rushing against her should have been exhilarating, but all that existed in her thoughts was vengeance. 

Rising to the call for violence, her shadow elongated, stretching far ahead before bursting into a dozen dark tentacles that rose from the ground, each poised to reap the lives of those who dared harm her patriarch.