MM - Chapter 237 - PEELING BACK THE LAYERS

The steamy warmth of Mel’s bedroom dissolved, replaced by a biting chill that clung to Raine, attempting and failing to steal his breath. His eyes opened to the stark white of the Recluse Mountains. He stood atop a lonely peak, the world below a tapestry of shadows. The morning sun was only minutes from gracing the horizon, lending the view a haunting beauty. The air, thin and sharp against his skin, cleared the last vestiges of the arousal relentlessly stoked by Mel. 

Raine felt rested in mind and body, his senses honed to a razor’s edge after the brief respite. Today was going to be a big day. At least, big in the sense of the coming death tally.

While spinning in a circle, he sent a series of messages in rapid succession. The first was a request to the raid’s current leader, requesting a transfer of command. In short order, the raid window populated in his interface, and he sent out the second wave of commands, summoning all forty battlemasters and his core team to the base of the peak. 

As he stepped off the precipice, diving through the blistering wind, a third and final set of communications went out to allies safely tucked away in Silverlight City, setting the next stage of his plans into motion.

When the ground raced up to meet him, Raine didn’t bother Lunging. Connection firmed the air, and he landed with a soft thud that barely disturbed the snow-covered gravel. The battlemasters were already gathering, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and disciplined readiness. They snapped to attention at his approach, their respect palpable. He wasted no time on pleasantries, distributing updated employment contracts for each of them with a few swift taps at his interface.

His voice cut through the wind. “Before we move out, you’ll all need to sign these.”

MaryVoss looked up from the document, brow furrowed, the question loud in her tone. “Sir, we already signed the guild contracts when we first joined Astra?”

“These are updates,” Raine clarified, gaze sweeping to assess their reactions. “They contain new clauses, specifically in sections E-4 through 7 and Q-21. Consider them an addendum to your leadership responsibilities. They introduce further restrictions against espionage and unauthorized communication. Since you are now part of my direct command chain with clearance for sensitive strategic information, you are subject to more stringent oversight. Read the changes carefully. If you refuse to sign, you won’t be removed from Astra, but you will be demoted.”

A heavy silence fell as they absorbed his words. They remembered well the 20 gold he’d already paid each of them. Disappointing him now and losing their positions was the last thing they wanted. While they mulled over the legalese, Raine turned to Celeste, who stood nearby with Rhino and Fizgore. “Give me access to your map.”

She complied without hesitation, her trust clear in the adoring way she’d been looking at him without realizing it. Accessing it, Raine’s finger traced a path far to the north, tapping to highlight a specific, unmarked peak. “You’ll find a cave near the summit of this mountain. The enemies inside are some of the highest-level beasts in this entire zone. They should be just enough to tip you back into level twenty-five. You’re going to need it for what’s coming next.”

Celeste’s eyes widened, a brilliant spark of excitement igniting in their crimson depths as she was reminded of the soul flame she’d yet to practice. She looked as if she wanted to throw her arms around him, but with so many watching, caught herself. She managed a soft, “Thank you,” before he nodded at her to go. Without needing to be told twice, she repeatedly air-Lunged straight up to deploy her drifter at the apex of her ascent. Her form shrank as she rapidly glided toward her destination.

Rhino’s arms crossed over his chest, his expression one of open envy. “When are you going to teach us how to do that?” Fizgore nodded emphatically, his impressive afro wobbling with the movement.

“Soon,” Raine promised. A ghost of a smile touched his lips when he realized there was no reason to keep them waiting. “Actually, now that others are starting to figure out the trick, there’s no reason to keep it such a closely guarded secret.” He glanced at Mel, who was staring at him with a goofy smile. “Melbelle can guide you through the basics right now.”

The two men let out a synchronized cheer. Mel, completely unashamed, trotted over to Raine and planted a quick, firm kiss on his cheek. She took the chance to whisper in his ear, “Anything I can’t tell them?”

Raine nodded gravely, remembering well the vow of secrecy he’d forced her and Celeste to take. “Leave out the why. Just cover the how of it.” While true that the Phoenix elites could firm the air enough to trigger Lunge, there was no way they fully understood what they were doing, which meant they couldn’t teach it to those lacking the emotional clarity that came with being a martial master. It would be years yet before the common soldier was soaring through the skies. And until they were, Astra Infernum would hold the advantage.

After giving him one of her signature beaming smiles, Mel Lunged after the two, quickly catching them and taking the lead. They disappeared around the mountain's curve to find a suitably private area to train.

Raine withdrew a Guilder Summoning Scroll from his inventory. The scrolls were available for purchase to any guild officer who could afford the hefty hundred gold cost. With a minuscule pull on his Elemental Power, it flared to life in his gauntlet. The air before him tore open into a shimmering black portal. Its edge spun, spitting golden sparks. On the far side, Elana, the guild’s production lead, peered through with raised brows. Behind her was the familiar scenery of Silverlight City’s Crafting Hall. 

She stepped through. The frigid mountain air hit her instantly, and a deep frown plastered itself across her scarred features. She wasted no time, immediately opening a trade window with Raine. “Here’s everything we’ve completed so far.”

His interface populated with a long list of items that he briefly scanned, confirming the quantities were enough. Not letting the smile he felt reach his face, Raine accepted the trade. Before he could speak, Elana rushed to explain. “It’s less than you were hoping for, I know. We pushed as hard as we could.” Her tone was a mixture of defiance and trepidation, the pride of a crafter warring with the fear of disappointing him.

“It will have to be enough.” Raine’s voice was unexpectedly gentle. “Good work. Go get some rest.” Elana and her people had been working for nearly three days straight, their efforts fueled by energy supplements and sheer willpower. His next words brought a weary tear to her eyes. “Tell everyone they’ve earned that five-gold bonus.”

He transferred a thousand gold to her personal account to cover the bonuses. The tension visibly drained from her shoulders, and she nodded, wiping at her eye as though it had offended her by daring to leak a shred of humanity. With jerky motions, she activated a Return Stone. 

Before the ten-second countdown completed, Raine added a final instruction. “Remember, I want every member at adept-grade by the end of the week. You have more than enough Original Blueprints and materials to make it happen.”

“Understood, sir!” Elana snapped a crisp salute, smiling widely despite her best efforts. She promptly vanished in a beam of light that curved through the sky, back toward the warmth of Silverlight City.

By the time he turned back, the last of the battlemasters had signed their new contracts. He opened a trade window with the first in line, Tidus Hale, distributing the items Elana had just delivered.

“Good. I’m glad you all made the smart choice.” Raine’s smile hardened along with his voice. “Now, here’s how this is going to go.”

Torune of CronGate

- Central Silvergate Highlands, ZionLine -

Torune paced his command tent like a caged beast. Again, he tried and failed to soothe the inferno of his rage. No matter what he tried, the humiliation from Romaxillians was still a raw, festering wound. He had never been so thoroughly outmaneuvered in public, and he swore on his soul it would never happen again. If anyone, Alaric or otherwise, attempted to disgrace him in such a way, they would die instantly at his hands, law be damned.

That moment only marked the beginning; the last few days had been a special kind of hell. The siege of Belehorn Tower and the second assassination attempt of KongRu had been costly failures, and Alaric’s subsequent massacre at Shadow Springs town had truly hammered in the regret.

I should have killed that little shit-stain when he was right in front of me!

Torune knew that if he had moved quickly enough, then Vaneese’s third mind wipe would have been avoided, too. As Harlan predicted, the operation backfired. The girl he once considered a daughter was practically useless now, her brilliant mind turned to something lesser. Idiots, he was used to; the regrettable side effect of never developing a domain was the true blow. Forevermore, she was just another broken tool, unworthy of attention.

In ZionLine, his misfortunes only grew. Damian Tafell’s information came too late, and instead of purchasing the necessary permits straight away, Torune’s ranks had suffered nearly two hundred thousand deaths while crossing the kingdom. The levels and equipment were a devastating loss, but they were not the last, not by a long shot.

The Vaaterran patrols were a constant, infuriating thorn. Even with the permits, they stopped his soldiers at every chance, demanding inspections of their inventories, and killing anyone who showed the slightest resistance. They weren’t even subtle about the extortion, blatantly stealing coins and valuables from his guilder’s inventories under the guise of ‘tariffs’ and ‘fines.’

Compounding that misery were the so-called ‘bandits’ that seemed to be hiding in every copse and bush, constantly picking off his scouts and outlying squads.

What the fuck are all the tariffs for if they can’t keep a single damn road free of bandits!

It was not with light evidence that Torune determined they were bandits in name only. He was now sure they were the same damnable soldiers, come to steal from his coffers a second time. If it hadn’t been evident before, it was now: the permits and the kingdom they came from were a complete scam.

Alaric had apparently known about and sold the need for the permits to the Phoenix Clan in advance. How the bastard had acquired such sensitive information so quickly was a mystery that didn’t matter. The end result was the patriarch of the Phoenix Clan being infuriated enough to dispatch an entire wing of the Halnugen to snuff the whelp out.

The added layer of insurance was a welcome addition that would save Torune millions of credits. The auction had not been all bad. During the opening rounds, he’d secured several powerful items. Sure, the Desolate Broker had royally screwed over his finances right along with everyone else. Still, those items held more than enough power to earn it all back and put Astra Infernum in their place forever. Combined with the support of the Halnugen, CronGate was invincible.

It was a good thing, too; of the million guilders Torune tried to gather to crush Alaric, only a tenth arrived. Many of them had lost levels along the way, and their equipment was far from complete. He was beyond fatigued from the constant reports of losses.

I swear, the next idiot who dares to bring me bad news will be dead before they can blink!

Torune snarled, the sound a low growl in his throat. The worst might be that Damian hadn’t let him keep even one of the captives. While Astra was holed up in their little tower, Torune’s regulars had been busy sweeping Carter of anyone with the surname KongRu. They’d been quietly bundled up and shipped away. If only that reality were enough to appease him. It was not. Killing them with his own hands would, watching the light fade from their eyes, might have appeased his fury. Despite being the one to suffer the most at Alaric’s hands, that right had been denied him.

Breathe. Calm. Astra Infernum’s end will be enough.

The fledgling guild was composed of untrained refuse without a lick of martial training. With Alaric’s assassination at the hands of the Halnugen and their combined army, Astra would be ripe for the slaughter. Torune could not wait to taste their despair, to sup on their screams, to bathe in their spilled blood, and most of all, to make back some of his lost fortunes.

A chime from his interface broke his furious ruminations. It was the report he had been waiting for, a message from a trusted spy within Astra’s ranks. They were on the move, weaving through the mountain passes, separated and vulnerable, heading directly toward the series of ambushes Torune had painstakingly laid for them.

He whirled on his command staff, voice a whip-crack that galvanized them to action. “It’s time.”

A savage cheer erupted in the tent. They were just as eager for blood as he was. Alaric, KongRu, and Astra Infernum had humiliated them one too many times: a reckoning was at hand.

Raine KongRu

- Recluse Mountains, ZionLine -

From his perch high above, Raine watched his guilders move, a hawk observing his pieces on a board of stone and snow. The lead cohort, three hundred and seventy-five brave men and women under the command of battlemaster MaryVoss, snaked through the high mountain passes. As instructed, she had split her forces into fifteen conrois. Each group of twenty-five guilders moved through a different, parallel ravine. In some cases, they were separated by entire kilometers. To an outside observer, it would seem a foolishly vulnerable formation—an invitation to ambush.

It was all part of the plan. Raine did not have to wait long for his enemies to take the bait.

They burst from the landscape itself, rising from behind boulders and beneath deep snowdrifts, a tide of steel and fury launching themselves at one of the isolated conrois. Astra’s people were outnumbered ten-to-one and facing opponents of a higher average level, not to mention martial prowess. The lines met, and Raine’s guilders buckled instantly. In seconds, they began to die.

Just as the enemy thought their victory was assured, the tide turned in a flash. Three figures within the Astra formation, previously indistinguishable from the rest, exploded into motion too fast to track. Their strikes were immensely powerful, sending multiple enemies flying with each swing, dead before what was left of their bodies scattered to the ground. They were his Vaaterrans, each level forty or fifty, their identities concealed by Obfuscating Powder. 

In mere moments, they carved through the rest of the ambushers. The CronGate soldiers, who had charged in with arrogant confidence, were slaughtered before they even understood what was happening. In the end, Raine’s forces suffered only those first two casualties.

This scene was repeated across a dozen different passes. Each of the fifteen conrois in the lead cohort was seeded with three of these hidden elites. Every trap CronGate had set, every ambush they had prepared, became a self-contained massacre that blew up in their faces.

Yet, this was only the first, outermost layer of the brutal lessons Raine had planned for his enemies. For who in either world understood better how the wars of ZionLine were waged? As the death toll of his foes mounted, so too did the grin creeping across his face.

The overture was underway, and soon, the real fun would begin.