MM - Chapter 267 - WHAT THEY LACK

The last pose of Resplendence concluded to a collective, whimpering sigh. Bone-deep exhaustion had long ago settled into the assembled cohorts. Yet, not one person quit or complained, and each of their expressions remained alight with the desire to continue for as long as Alaric would teach. They had been at it for several hours now, as Empowered Blasts lit up the night sky.

Raine floated in clear view on a platform of Connection, lecturing as he demonstrated each movement. “Practice every waking hour, in and out of ZionLine. Strive with every ounce of your will to trigger the muscles you can't yet control. This will condition your brains to utilize Internal Force.” He saw the flicker of understanding in their tired eyes. This was the prize, the bridge between worlds that would make them more than they currently were; it would make them martials.

He stood, dismissing them with a sharp nod. The regulars broke formation and moved toward the staging area. A current of excited chatter followed them as they logged out for their next three-hour break. While it didn’t seem like much, if they spent two of those hours in ZionLine, it would stretch their break to seven. Astra Infernum was covering their expenses in West Base Town, giving them plenty of opportunity for leisure or further practice.

Raine motioned for the core group to go on ahead before his gaze found Lucius. The young noble’s posture was slumped, and his fine armor was caked with mud and baked Rabinoid viscera. He was even more exhausted than the previous night, a consequence of intercepting the many stray Acid Shots that had come close to the training guilders.

He lowered himself, boots making no sound as they landed behind the noble. “Hand it over,” Raine demanded, palm open and waiting.

Lucius spun, and upon seeing the gesture, groaned. A fat, theatrical tear leaked from the corner of one eye. He withdrew a small pouch, cringing as its weight left his palm. The fifteen gold his forces had earned over the entire day was insignificant, a pittance compared to what Raine himself had accumulated. That, however, had nothing to do with it. Lucius was fulfilling the agreement he himself had signed. Raine was merely an observer of the young man’s noble deed.

“Does your cruelty know no bounds?” Lucius’s voice was a hoarse whisper as they retreated into The Wall.

“Of course it does,” Raine’s grin was gloating. “Now, make sure you write to your father today, or our contract will unfortunately be invalidated.”

Lucius recoiled as if struck. “Curses! I forgot entirely!” He prepared to bolt ahead, clearly hoping to cut their conversation short before it soured further.

“Wait,” Raine’s command was sharp, halting Lucius in his tracks and pulling a pitiful groan from him. “I won't be returning to Celendine’s Shield for some time. Once your deployment is complete, find me at Astra Infernum’s guild hall in Silverlight City.”

The noble’s head snapped around. “You have a guild hall in Silverlight?!” The shock was plain on his face, and warranted. A guild hall in the capital was no small feat. The hundreds of thousands of gold Raine spent for only a few months' rent were proof enough of that. In all of the kingdom, the number of lowly barons who could afford the same could be counted on one hand. Lucius’s expression shifted, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. “I understand, Lord Alaric. However… what exactly will you be needing from me at that time?”

“You'll find out then, won't you? Make sure you don't delay. I expect your arrival within three hands.”

Lucius swallowed hard as he processed the timeframe. The end of his deployment should have been private. How could Alaric possibly know? The man was an enigma, a puzzle whose pieces refused to fit. And he, for better or worse, was now tied to this man for what could be years of servitude. The realization brought another, and his eyes flew wide. “Wait… you took all that gold from Lady Elowen so she could hunt freely while you’re here, but you only intended to stay another day?! When Count Bertram discovers the truth, he’ll be furious!” 

“The Bertrams aren’t your concern, unless you’re more interested in Elowen than I thought. It won’t be easy, but I can probably set you two up for tea, rather than boring old Selena.”

“What?!” Lucius squeeked, shaking his head like a man possessed. “F-forget I said anything, my lord!” His gaze snapped to the tunnel before he dug himself deeper. 

Silence stretched between them, and the tirade of emotions warring within Lucius became an all-out storm. He had now spent two nights on The Wall’s infamous field. He, a noble caster of lineage reduced to a living shield for Travelers that he once viewed as disposable. He viewed them as such no longer. He could still taste the Rabinoid blood on his tongue. The raw, unbridled mayhem of the battlefield had been engraved upon his flesh. He now understood, in painful clarity, what it meant to stand in front of the shieldwall, and not behind it.

The idea that he callously allowed so many of these valiant defenders of The Wall to die turned his stomach. Worse, he had directly caused many of their deaths with his own actions. It no longer mattered that they could come back from the grave. They experienced real pain, real death. He could hear their cries echoing in his skull. How had he, a man who once swore to uphold the integrity of Her Majesty, be directly responsible for so much suffering? What would Selena say if she knew?

This was the real reason Lucius wanted to run away from Alaric. Meeting the man’s gaze brought only turmoil and shame.

Raine watched Lucius’s hunched back with a warm smile. He didn’t miss the obvious signs of the boy’s suffering, and that suffering was further proof of what he’d suspected from the beginning: Lucius Slade was one of the rare good ones, worthy of time and investment. Leaving the boy to his heavy thoughts, Raine exited the tunnel to find his friends waiting. He lifted a finger for Varak to wait a moment as he addressed the core group:

“Meet me at the Silverlight Arena in ten.”

A grin split Rhino’s youthful face. “Is this what I think it is?”

Kevinsbakon practically vibrated with excitement. “Oh, shit yah! It’s time for our epic training arc, isn't it?!”

A wave of eager energy washed over the group. They cast pleading expressions at Raine, who released a bark of laughter. “What else would I want you to do when you can barely walk?! I know you’ve all been bored standing around sucking up my Superiority. Time to prove you were worth it! And after that, you’ll be paying me back triple in raid loot!”

“Hu-rah!” Their shouts were a chaotic, joyous chorus, overwhelmed by Kevinsbakon throwing his head back and cackling like a madman.

Fizgore already had a Return Stone out and glowing in his palm. The rest followed suit with haste, and their forms dissolved in flashes of blue light. The last to go were Mel, Celeste, and Pamalaiha, each giving him looks that made it hard to remember what he was supposed to be doing next. 

Raine cleared his throat before giving Varak his orders. “Your elites can break for two fingers. Then, it's escort duty back to Silverlight.”

“Understood, My Lord!” Varak’s salute was crisp.

The gesture was returned with equal enthusiasm. “Good job keeping everyone alive out there,” Raine lifted his chin toward The Wall, and beyond it, to the center of The Divide. Varak’s dual conrois had braved incredible danger to remain close enough to soak up their share of Superiority.

“It was our pleasure, My Lord! We pulled 328 levels in total.” Varak shook his head, the numbers still seeming unreal. “Any among us who once doubted you, now see the truth… as I did from the very first punch you placed on my chin.”

Varak’s last-second addition caused Raine to release a snort of amusement. “Careful, or the lances will start calling you an ass-kisser.”

“An ass-kisser, My Lord?” It took the Vaaterran a moment to parse the unfamiliar slang, and his cheeks brightened in embarrassment.

Seeing him struggle for a response elicited another laugh. Pulling out a Return Stone of his own, he activated it before swapping back to his old cloak—the Cape of The Creeper. Enough time had passed for the kingdom’s 4th-tier Vaaterrans to have cleared up the worst monster outbreaks. Over the next few days, they and their entourages would be arriving in the capital to report. While the Cape of the Creeper’s adept-grade obfuscation wouldn’t stop the powerhouses themselves, it would block many prying eyes that could lead right back to those very monstrous existences.

He vanished in a swirl of light, leaving Varak to oversee the end of another long shift. 

Raine materialized in one of Silverlight City’s western plazas. Staying out of sight as much as possible amid the bustling crowds, he made his way to the grand edifice of the arena. The line to access the Tower of Triumph now wound around two blocks. With the exchange store open, the tower’s promise of a single gold coin for clearing the second floor was insatiable.

Bypassing the line, Raine headed inside to find the core group bouncing on their toes. He led them to one of the abandoned rental kiosks and used the gold from Lucius to pay for a week in two separate training spaces. The first was familiar—the same sand-filled grounds they used before.

As they appeared inside, he began altering the rules of the space. Instead of randomizing their baseline attributes like last time, he took their current stats and increased them by a staggering 200%. The result was immediate, unmitigated chaos.

In the span of a breath, the core group became stronger, faster, and utterly hopeless. The slightest gesture of Fizgore’s hand sent him careening across the sand. Delora’s instinctive laugh tossed her onto her ass, and her attempt to shoot back to her feet only made her flip end over end. Their bodies became practically weightless, like feathers propelled by industrial machinery.

“What is this?!” Richtor shouted. From his stomach, the simple act of trying to look up at Raine caused his head to whip back with such force that he flipped through the air and landed flat on his back. The entire group was flopping around like fish out of water, cursing Alaric’s name with every uncontrolled tumble.

Raine looked down at them, a flicker of pity in his eyes. He hopped lightly from one foot to the other, a demonstration of effortless control that only served to deepen their frustration. “What would be the point of training you at your current strength when you’re about to get a ton more attributes? Not one of you has a single piece of level-appropriate gear, which I’ll be personally rectifying. This level of strength should be about right for when you’re fully geared.”

A chorus of groans and complaints rose from the sand-dusted group. All except Fizgore, Mel, Pamalaiha, and Celeste. They were already down to business, their movements small and measured as they fought to recalibrate their motor skills.

Raine’s expression hardened as he addressed the whiners. “Anyone who can’t reach forty-five percent on their primary skill completions, and doesn’t have a firm grasp of Force-Damage Conversion, won't be joining the raid. You’ve got three inside days. Varak’s people are the same level, and not nearly as pitiful as you lot. Get your shit together, and fast. I’ve given you all the tools to succeed. If you still can’t cut it with all these handouts, then you can manage the farmers from now on.”

The threat lit a fire under their asses. Sharp silence fell over the training ground as the complaints died in their throats, replaced by grim determination. There was nothing else he could do for them until they could move normally, so Raine left them for the auction house, where he withdrew a few thousand gold from his account. The remainder would give Charles plenty of capital to play with. His next stop was the nobles’ district to have his equipment repaired. While Astra now employed many crafters, they weren’t yet high enough grade to service anything above Lustrous Blue.

On the way to his next destination, he deliberately walked right past the trainers that could upgrade his weapon masteries. He was going to need every percent of Attunement he could spare. Depending on a dizzying number of factors within his class quest, higher-grade class options would become available, like Lucius’s Pyroplasmancer—a Lustrous Blue, advanced caster class. This was one of the primary reasons Raine had been leery about choosing Armsman. With Brawler, he knew every possible hidden path within the basic quest, guaranteeing him a Marvelous Gold, 2nd-tier class.

However, going in blind was what being a forerunner was all about. He wasn't truly worried. There were dozens of common themes among the hundreds of class quests he knew, more than enough to put a solid roadmap together once it was time.

Regardless, not knowing what grade he would end up with made it impossible to anticipate how much his new skills would cost. If the 1st-tier was anything to go by, they would be costly indeed. It was unlikely he would have enough Attunement to purchase them all right away, even with his growth weapons helping accrue so much excess. 

Taking this rare class sure makes planning ahead a pain in the ass. The mysteries are fun though. Wonder what kind of class quest I'll end up on. Level 48 already… So close to finding out.

Raine’s gut churned with the kind of anticipation that reminded one of where the nearest bathroom was.

His feet took him to the crafting hall, where Elana was waiting at the entrance. Her apron, as usual, was smudged with charcoal. “Leader.” She didn’t bow or bend under his intense gaze. His brow lifted in question, wondering what she was so pleased with. Not needing a verbal cue, Elana got right to the point. “The last of us reached Adept grade.”

“Good work. I knew you could do it. Has anyone decided to move to Carter?”

“A few…” Her expression and tone made it clear she wasn’t among them.

“That’s fine.” Raine nodded. “Make sure any new hires are aware of the benefits. No reason to push them, though.” As they entered his private workspace, he smoothly shifted to preparations for the coming raid. “I need two hundred resistance potions for each element, including demonic and celestial. Darkvision too. The same number of Scrolls of Mask Scent and Footsteps.” He ticked off the requirements on his fingers. “Weapon coatings of anti-slime, golems, and beasts. One of Charles’ people should have brought several powder recipes for countering beasts with sensitive smell, eyesight, and hearing. Two hundred of each of those as well. After all that, make as many Spike Traps, Ricochet Mines, Spark Bomb, Trip Wires, and Snap Grenades as we have materials for. When you’re out, get more from Charles.”

Elana’s eyes grew wider as Alaric rattled off the long list. His brief comment about hiring more crafters now made sense.

“Don’t worry, you have three whole days.”

As if that was anywhere near enough time. It was a miracle she didn’t scream in the face of his cheeky grin.