MM - Chapter 222 - THE HIGH ROAD

The first group's march, and misery, dragged through the night, their footsteps a relentless weary drumming on the packed road. Only those who excelled at utilizing Discipline and coping with its lack were allowed to fight. Among those few, even less showed excellence in the new skill system. Raine wasn’t concerned in the least. He knew that less than one out of every hundred had what it took to unlock a 3rd-tier class. While quickly grasping the basics was no guarantee of future accomplishments, it was nice to know who to keep an eye on.

They reached Hammer Smith Town well before dawn. The settlement's sturdy walls rose tall as a promise of respite from Rhino's constant verbal abuse and Raine's occasional overhead passes, blaring killing intent onto their weary spines. With exhausted steps, they passed through the town gates. Yet, despite their unbalanced, staggering appearance, determination was etched across each of their features. They could have gone further, harder, and they knew it. The realization brought pride in how far they had come in the short time since joining Astra Infernum.

Richtor was left in charge with enough gold for food and lodging, then the core members returned to Mirror Lake Town to start all over again with the second group. The sun breached the horizon halfway through the forced march, around the same time that they passed Ronexzera's people. 

Not long after, Pamalaiha reached level five. Raine had been coaching her in acrobatic combat all night while relentlessly assaulting her mind with bloodlust. She took everything he threw at her, reveling in the challenge. She was a quick study, her time in the Noroji clan having sharpened her instincts well beyond the norm. Unfortunately, she had a great deal of unlearning to do, and beating those bad habits out of her was a task he would not often have time for, so, much to her torment, he made the most of each passing hour.

Mel joined as well. Unlike Pamalaiha, she was only able to fend off every other use of bloodlust with her own mental ability—blackout. However, her spatial orientation was impressive to the point that Raine couldn't remember training another who could match her. No matter her directionality at the time of being attacked, Mel's Connection and footing remained firm, allowing him to increase the intensity of her acrobatic drills to the third stage. He pushed her hard, kicking her into the dirt so many times that every centimeter of her was a sweat-caked, muddy mess, and each time, she rose with a beaming smile, eager to continue.

Twice through the night, he caught himself wishing it were only the two of them out here on this dusty road, sharing the moonlight before it bled into the rising dawn, the thrill of advancing down their martial paths pumping through their veins.

When they arrived at Hammer Smith Town, Richtor and those of the first group were still logged in. They waited outside the walled settlement. When everyone was gathered, half barely able to remain on their feet, Raine rose into the air and addressed them.

“You made it." His arms spread wide, a proud smile stretching his cheeks. "Each of you pushed the boundaries of what you knew was possible, and came out the other end with your chins held high. As of this moment, you are no longer recruits, but regulars of Astra Infernum.” The absolute confidence in his voice had them standing a little straighter and emerging from their stupors. They looked around as though finally realizing they had arrived, that the torture was over. “By digging deep and overcoming the impossible, you’ve taken a step down your martial paths. Good job.”

Raine gave them a few seconds. The recruits who had forged bonds through shared suffering clapped each other on the backs and bumped fists, congratulatory smiles worn on most faces. He continued, tone pitched low to reveal his seriousness. “For those of you wishing to remain in town and rest, follow Richtor to your lodgings. CronGate will not ease their assaults on Belehorn just because we’re exhausted. Rest, recover, and prepare for another long night.

The rest of you will be continuing into the mountains. The dangers ahead are greater than anything you’ve faced so far; many of you will not make it.” Raine paused again, allowing the severity of the situation to sink in, “Every martial path is unique, and you alone know what stirs your heart. You have one hour to choose: stay and valiantly protect our home, or forge ahead to seek out our enemies and bring them death on your own terms. There is no wrong choice here, only your path.”

Raine left them to stew and convened with the core group. With the sheer quantity of solo Travelers using the town as a hub, the price of lodgings was more than expected. He gave Richtor enough gold to keep half of the regulars and Ronexzera's people housed, fed, and entertained for a month, then called for a much-needed break. 

While they returned to Earth for a brief respite, Rain found a secluded spot in a nearby valley and practiced each of his skills. As expected, achieving a completion rate higher than 50% with his Cleric skills was his limit. Celestial Power was fundamentally different from Discipline-based activations; more akin to begging for aid from a higher power than actively grasping destiny with both hands and wringing it into obedience. The rest of his skills were well into the 60s. It would do for now, until he had time to dedicate to training.

In the end, thirteen thousand regulars chose to press on into the mountains. These were people who had been held back by an unfair social system their whole lives. Their desperation to advance could not be denied. Knowing that many who stayed would ultimately enroll in Defender classes, Raine couldn't have been happier with the ~5/6th ratio. While a frontline determined to keep their allies alive was important, they were ultimately a small percentage of a unified force.

Once more leaving Richtor in charge, he led the way into rugged foothills that merged into towering mountains. As the peaks swelled to blot the heavens, the air grew thin and chilly, laced with the heavy tang of loamy minerals. Along with the change in scenery, Astra Infernum was granted an education that the rest of ZionLine's guilds were paying dearly for.

Hundreds, and often thousands, of solo Travelers shared the narrow road with them. The Earthlings were not alone; Vaaterrans ranged alongside them, competing fiercely for resources. Seeing smaller groups of Travelers being butchered for daring to defend themselves or talk back was the norm, not the exception. Not one switch-back was traversed without seeing a stranger’s life come to a sudden, brutal end. The worst were the patrolmen. They were out in force, and if not for the permits Raine secured, Astra's people would have been fighting a bloody, uphill battle for every meter gained.

Not an hour into the deep passes, Raine's senses prickled. As always, bloodlust extended ahead; the misty energy brushed against hidden intents clustered around them, squeezed tight by the narrow nature of the mountain pass. He didn’t need the early warning to spot the ambush—Vaaterrans were perched on cliffs above, boulders poised to roll. The trap was crude, but effective against an unprepared force. Unsurprisingly, no kingdom patrols were present, only Raine’s people and a few small groups of Travelers clustered together for protection.

He held his tongue, letting the regulars and his core group advance without warning. This was yet one of thousands of crucibles, merely another chance to forge their instincts in the fires of Vaateaire. 

As the pass wound around a peak, it narrowed further, sheer walls funneling them into a choke. A low rumble echoed from above. The large rocks were set free. They gained speed, plummeting in an unholy racket. Shouts erupted from the column, panic threading through the ranks. Raine's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. “Triple lines! Back-to-back! Casters, target those boulders!”

Men and women scrambled, weapons drawn in trembling hands. They had fought well against the higher-level monsters so far encountered. It was clear that this was something else entirely—a coordinated ambush by a force that had assessed their numbers and thought they could win. 

The casters turned their skills skyward. Blasts flickered to life despite the new system's demands. Bursts of fire and ice shattered the largest boulders, fragments cascading down in a gritty hail. Raine watched impassively, arms crossed, posture exuding complete and total assurance in their victory over the mysterious enemy. 

The clusters of solo Travelers were not so quick to respond, and several groups were wiped out or scattered by the falling rocks, which were effectively only a feint. The hostile presences Raine first detected surged into motion. They burst free from hidden pits and false stones littering the pass—five hundred Vaaterran bandits, charging from only meters away. Their levels ranged from 12 to 15, and they were armored in patched leather, wielding notched blades. They howled, descending on Astra's flanks with brutality reflected in their eyes.

Raine barked orders, tone unyielding. “Hold the line! Casters and healers in the center! Melee, brace and counter!”

Iron clashed in a frenzy. Bandits Lunged all along the line, suddenly racing forward at triple speed, blades arcing for vulnerable necks. The nearby Travelers who managed to evade the boulders didn’t last three seconds beneath the superior equipment, levels, and onslaught of the Vaaterrans. After all, lacking Connection, their other attributes were boosted to make up the difference. All too soon, only Astra Infernum remained fighting for survival in the narrow valley.

A young man right next to Raine deflected a darting spear with a clumsy maneuver, his level-eight attributes buckling under the force. Blood sprayed as the blade punched a hole clear through his shoulder. He flew back into a healer right behind. As they fell, the healer desperately channeled a Mend, and threads of light knitted the wound. The young man was back on his feet in an instant, desperation, and the will to survive lending strength and speed. Without space to swing back, he kicked the bandit away as four of his allies jumped the Vaaterran, sinking weapons deep.

“Support and organization only!” Raine's typed command in the officer chat had the core group hovering at the edges, not directly partaking in the battle. At levels 24 and 25, they would make quick work of the bandits, robbing the chance at growth. Pamalaiha was under no such restriction. She wove through the front line of enemies with pure skill and dashed up the slope toward a line of enemy casters. Only a few took their focus from the main battle to target her. If five or six more had taken the threat she represented seriously, they might have stopped her. Several expertly utilized Lunges saw her form streaking through the Blasts sent her way. Then, she was among them, reaping lives with perfectly-placed Slashes that snaked between the gaps in their armor.

Celeste clenched her teeth as a dozen of her people were scattered by a Warrior's Mighty Strike. A Charged Blast hummed in her palm, aimed at the classer, but she held back. Her eyes darted around the faltering section of the line, looking for a solution that wouldn't countermand Raine’s orders. Her hesitation cost a regular dearly. The poor boy screamed as the Warrior's axe cleaved his leg free. Before Celeste could decide how best to help, Mel darted into the breach, hand glowing with a point-blank Healing Burst that fully restored the limb. The bandit whirled, sneering, but the thrown-back regulars surged forward, driven by adrenaline and rage. They plunged swords and spears into the attacker's gut, numbers overwhelming individual superiority.

Another level 15 classer swung his mace wide in a Breaching Crush, crumpling a shield and sending its wielder sprawling. Fizgore stepped in at the last second, a meaty hand grabbing the follow-up strike, buying the fallen man time to scramble back to his feet. Thanks to Fizgore's save, Celeste realized that her skills weren't suited for reinforcing the main line. She turned her attention to the enemy casters. Her Charged Blasts zipped through the air with incredible speed, intercepting the most dangerous incoming projectiles.

Raine’s bloodlust snaked out, causing a Vaaterran to flinch; the moment of terror bought enough time for a woman to regain her stance. He nodded approvingly; the number of interventions needed was lower than expected. These weren't the raw recruits from days ago; ZionLine's trials and CronGate's harassment had indeed hardened them.

The battle raged on, a chaotic confluence of grunts and clashing metal. Bandits exploited gaps, their martial prowess showing in well-executed feints and brutal finishes. A level 15 Vanguard Berserker—one of the enemy leaders—barreled through, twin falchions flashing toward a group of healers. He gutted one regular and lopped the arm off another before Rhino's spear came whizzing in from the side and pierced the leader’s thigh, effectively pausing his rampage. The fallen regular gasped, clutching his wound, but the night’s running had taught him that he could push through. With gritted teeth, he stood and rejoined his comrades to overwhelm the injured foe.

Spotting the optimal timing to turn the tide, Raine shouted again. “Flanks press one step! Rotate the wounded! Shields up! Casters, push them back!” He surveyed the fray as his people clumsily adjusted to the new orders. The lines tightened as casters found their rhythm, Blasts scorching bandit armor and flesh. Seeing the turn as well, the enemies responsible for the boulders appeared, knocking arrows from the high cliffs. The dangerous projectiles whistled toward the healers, but were blocked thanks to the hastily raised defenses.

In a display that was pure ninja, Pamalaiha sprinted straight up the cliff and vanished among the vulnerable rangers. The battle wasn’t over, but it was close. Sweat stung eyes, and blood slicked the ground. When Raine appeared to block any hope of retreat, the last bandit captain roared to rally his remaining men. Alaric’s presence bolstered the regulars’ resolve. They surged, spears and swords converging on the last remnants. The bandits dwindled rapidly until only the captain remained, fighting wildly against overwhelming odds. He injured dozens before BearlyAlive’s dual hatchets came together, severing his head.

Raine descended from the sky, striding through the stunned, panting aftermath. Faces rife with exhaustion and triumph turned his way. His voice rose above the cries of the injured filling the harsh mountain air. “You held well against what easily could have been a superior force. The lines bent, but never broke. Not one of you fled; in my eyes, you are already true warriors. Your contracts state that fifty percent of all equipment drops belong to the guild, but to hell with that! Heal up and spread the loot amongst yourselves, you've earned it.”

By now, the exchange store's path to wealth was common knowledge, as was the value of gear in the level 15 range. Cheers erupted, fueled by fading adrenaline and unchecked avarice. Raine allowed a small smile, knowing the tests of the road ahead would push them even further. He motioned to Celeste and Pamalaiha, pulling them aside as Mel resurrected the dead and the other healers tended to the wounded. 

Out of earshot, he reiterated the most recent message from Morty. “CronGate's assaults on Belehorn haven’t started yet. It’s well past the time they should have. It doesn’t make sense for them to give us this much time to recover. Thoughts?”

Pamalaiha responded first, “Perhaps a diversion forced their efforts elsewhere? Or an internal fracture from loss of morale?”

Celeste eyed the older woman with annoyance at being beaten to the punch. “The spies might have told them we’re resting in ZL, so pressing us constantly won’t work?”

“You both met Torune, did he strike you as the kind of man who would allow diversions, morale, or setbacks to delay his revenge?” The girls shook their heads, brows drawn down in thought. “Instead of guessing, is there any way we could reveal his intentions?”

They glanced at each other, then Pamalaiha’s eyes widened. Her gaze returned to Raine as a sly smile lifted her lips. “The spies. Their movements should reveal a great deal. Where are they now? Are they in position to trip the building's shutters, or elsewhere?”

Celeste ground her teeth at being beaten again while Raine nodded approvingly. “Good. It just so happens that every known spy is logged into ZionLine, and all but two are with us here. What does that tell us?”

Celeste jumped at the chance to speak first, practically shouting in her haste. “They’re planning an ambush in, or shortly after, we leave the mountains. They can’t know where we’re going since you haven’t even shared that with us, so my guess would be right as we leave the passes, where they can surround us with their greater numbers.”

“That was my thought as well." Raine nodded. "I expect their Phoenix allies will be there as well.” His supposition had both girls gulping at the severity of the situation. Raine’s vicious grin banished their concern, and the balm that was his voice filled them with a desire to fight. “So, the question remains: what are we going to do about it?”