Corsairs & Cataclysms

Chapter 18

The first rays of dawn lit up the wreckage we’d made of Fritch. The battle was over, and we’d rounded up or hunted down every one of Reynolds's people. There had only been six survivors.

To finish the campaign, I had people sitting on the Fritch podium for the last six hours switching its factional allegiance to the Shattered Storm. The absence of any of their people was a necessity for it to work in the shortest timeframe possible.

Thankfully, the transport nodes which linked the Brig on Marena’s Mercy to the Slave Market in Stormblade Harbour meant we could send the few survivors far away in the blink of an eye and remove their interference.

“We’ve had a message from the capital,” Brant announced from the deck of Marena’s Mercy. Without any further preamble, he leapt over the side of the ship and joined me down at the lakeside. “Doyle got one of the prisoners to talk. Reynolds is in Boulder, Colorado.”

Quixbix told me unprompted.

That was too far. It would take days, maybe weeks to map out enough of Pandaemonium to get close. And the further away we got from the waypoint Claudia controlled in Dallas, the more dangerous travelling through the subterranean network would become. Going overland had its own set of complications which made it undesirable. Meting out the deserved justice to Richard Reynolds would have to wait until after we had resolved the Ashli issue.

Brant hadn’t finished with his update and continued. “According to the ship’s sensors, the last few groups who came through didn’t turn around and return to investigate. Most of them were probably too far away to see much of anything in the dark anyway. Doesn’t look like they were hanging around, which is not a surprise, really. They were already three weeks behind the first wave of raiders and probably afraid of missing out on opportunities. Our scouts have radioed in and reported that there is no sign of any interested parties coming from Borger either, but we probably shouldn’t hang around any longer than necessary. They’ll spot the smoke now that dawn has come.”

“I agree. We got lucky with the timing and that no fresh arrivals came through. Ana!” I called up to the ship.

The diminutive blonde’s head appeared over the rails and beamed down at me. The cheeky little sociopath was in a jubilant mood. Murder and mayhem tended to have that effect on her. “What do you need Captain?”

“Are all the crew members back on board and are you ready to heave to? We’re about ready to collapse the gate.”

Marena’s Mercy would have to go back through the gate and return home before we removed it, or the ship would be stuck here. It was the primary reason the attack plan was based on a two-pronged assault using the waypoint to launch a land-based offensive first. We had already figured out the general location of the gate and could have powered through its defences eventually. Thereby avoiding the need to set up in Dallas.

However, if destroying the gate once we arrived proved necessary, that would have been tricky to pull off if we didn’t want to strand the ship here afterwards. With the waypoint option, the ship could flee back through the gate and any demolition team who stayed behind to finish the job wouldn’t have been abandoned.

Anastasia closed her eyes for a moment and her lips moved as if she was counting. “Yes, everybody is where they should be. Do you want us to take a few of your squads back?”

“Just the wounded, and they should already be in the sick bay.”

“Okay, see you back at the palace later tonight.”

Ana waved goodbye and skipped away from the taffrails and the ship dislodged itself from the sandbank.

A minute later, the gate control console beeped and booped when Marena’s Mercy requested permission to depart which I duly granted. The gate lit up and flared into life, shimmering in the dawn light. Ana didn’t hang about, and the black ship shot forward and disappeared through the gate with an audible pop.

I made a few selections on the console and the gate lights flickered out. It was time to finish what we came here for.

*** Are you sure you wish to trade in this gate for credit? Please be aware that this credit can only be used to build another gate in the future, and you will forfeit fifty percent of the original cost. ***

*** Yes/No ***

That the Framework charged through the nose for feature removal didn’t surprise me in the least. At the same time, I was lucky I could even do this. Had an avowed enemy of the faction been in proximity or besieging the settlement you couldn’t even perform this action. If it were that easy, towns and cities on the brink of defeat would trade in everything they could for credit just to spite any invaders.

But this was not my sole option, merely the safest one. And honestly, what kind of Corsair traded for gates?

Instead of choosing either option, I kept my palm pressed against the display. “Quixbix, would you care to do the honours?” The next part would be easier if I let the imp take the reins. I could have attempted it manually, but Quixbix had more experience.

We may have had to return the gate-hacking console along with the Malignant Cutter but there were a few items that hadn’t been installed or quite so well protected. One of them was a small box that could be attached to podiums and the control consoles for other Framework technology. It was similar in concept to the hacking nodes the guild had tried to use on the Navigation hub on Marena’s Mercy but a bit more sophisticated.

The attempted guild hack had failed spectacularly because they were up against Anastasia, a real person. We wouldn’t have the same problem. This was a standard, unenhanced gate and the TPD, the Tech Penetration Device, appropriated from Titus was a high-end piece of equipment.

Nevertheless, what we were doing was not without an element of risk. We had simply minimised the risk. Should this fail, the gate console would lock down and we wouldn’t even be able to fall back on the credit for the half-the-cost option.

Quixbix crowed with delight.

A new prompt appeared on the screen.

*** Notorious class detected. Dungeon Corsair Lord. Calibrating alternative options… ***

*** Do you wish to steal this gate? Please be aware that the current owner will be informed of your theft. Due to the scale of the theft capture of kill quests might be generated in allied or nearby factions. Do you wish to proceed? ***

*** Yes/No ***

A possible consequence quest. That was a blast from the past. I’d been operating in the wilds or as a lawless faction for so long, I’d almost forgotten about them. Now that I thought about it, consequence quests to hunt me down and dish out some form of punishment had probably been generated dozens of times on the podiums of other factions. They just didn’t show up in Shattered Storm territory and any groups interested in following through were probably gunning for me anyway.

I selected yes from the options and watched in amazement as the gate which dominated the view vanished in a shower of glittering dust. For all its horror, there were occasionally things of true beauty in the Darkwyrlds.

A visit to Dean’s office for the level u would have to wait until we got back to Stormblade Harbour. “Let’s head back to the waypoint.” I turned my back on the lake and trudged back up the bank.

We were finished here.

***

Dallas Dungeon Waypoint A Few Hours Earlier

“Yikes! My poor feet,” Mia sighed loudly and flopped down onto a comfy couch covered in cushions, shrugged her shoes off and rested her feet on a footstool. “I feel like we walked a hundred miles today. Look at the time, damn, it’s late. The sun will be up soon.”

“It was barely twenty miles and probably not even that,” Trisha snorted and then yawned. “Try standing outside the Governor’s mansion in heels for twelve hours all for a ten-second soundbite only for the bastard never to show his face and then you have to do it all again the next day. Then we’ll talk about aches and pains.”

“What’s this about pain?” Madame Silk asked her tone laden with amusement. She and Claudia climbed out from the stairwell and joined the others in the reception area of the former adult theatre.

It was barely recognisable from what it used to be. Once Claudia had converted the entire building into a dungeon structure, altering the exterior windows to project a false image of what the interior looked like was child’s play. To be on the safe side, Trisha had worked her Siren magic on the spies in the building opposite. She hadn’t gone overboard, merely influenced them enough that they stopped paying attention to the comings and goings around the building.

With privacy secured, a full remodelling was possible. The foyer was now replete with places to sit, a bamboo tiki-tiki stand in one corner for fruit-laden cocktails and a snack bar.

“Here let me help,” Silk offered and perched on the edge of the large footstool and picked up one of Mia’s feet.

“You aren’t going to do anything weird are you, Petunia?” Mia asked, eyebrow arched in suspicion.

“Of course not,” Silk replied and pressed her thumbs deeply into the sole of Mia’s foot. “It’s part of a class ability. I can soothe aches and pains with my touch, reinvigorating flagging flesh. Very handy for a dominatrix. It doesn’t have to be sexual…unless you want it to be.” She finished with a snigger.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” Mia rolled her eyes skyward but didn’t pull her foot away. Madame Silk might take a strange pleasure in making people uncomfortable. Still, her finger massage was nothing short of miraculous and she struggled against moaning in sheer delight as the weariness was expelled.

Claudia returned from the Tiki-Tiki stand bearing a tray of cocktails with tiny little umbrellas and handed them out. “Can we assume that your tiredness is a result of a successful expedition and not just the lateness of the hour?”

“Hmmm, yeah it was worth it,” Mia agreed, an expression of happy lassitude crept over her face as Madame Silk moved on to her other foot. “Not every group we met with was interested in relocating, a third of them believed in the Lone Star Nation’s capacity to resist and overcome. But enough were.”

“Which was down to you,” Trisha interjected. “You were very persuasive. If I’d been on my own, half as many groups would have signed up.”

“I doubt that very much,” Mia snorted. “You’re the one with the mesmerising voice.”

“The voice is a blunt instrument. I could have forced their agreement, but it wouldn’t have lasted very long before they shook off its influence and it wouldn’t affect the people who followed those I ensorcelled. They would detect quite quickly that their representative had been mind whammyed and then all trust would be lost. Not only would they refuse to join us, but we’d likely be exposed to the local authorities.”

Any further discussion was interrupted as the door to the theatre was forcefully opened from outside and banged against the wall. A furious Cole stepped through the gap. He was caught off-guard for a moment due to the radical change in décor but then regained his sense of self-righteous anger and turned on the assembled women.

“Where is he?” Cole barked.

“Where is who?” Claudia replied airily, pretending she had no idea what the rude man was talking about.

“Your goddamned pimp, Carter!” Cole practically screamed. “Where is that fucker. The pissing pad back at HQ stopped working suddenly. If you’ve sold me a duck, I will fucking bury you!”

Madame Silk rose smoothly from the footstool and a crop appeared in her hands that she cracked in her palm. “This is not the kind of behaviour I will tolerate, little piggy.”

“I’m not here for that shit, Petunia. Fun is fun, but business is business, and this is very much business. Bring me, Carter, that fucker owes me an explanation. I put my neck on the line for him.”

“Hardly,” Claudia snorted. “Your whole guild had their hands out panting with greed once it was mentioned Torin would pay them for access to Dallas.”

“Don’t talk down to me,” Cole roared and summoned a warhammer into his fist, but it was too late for that.

Madame Silk and Claudia’s conversation had distracted Cole from the others, and he hadn’t noticed Trisha sidle sideways until she was behind him. Now she stepped up and trilled her song in his ear. Overcome by raw Siren Song, Cole went a bit cross-eyed. The heavy warhammer slipped from the grip of uncaring fingers and thunked on the carpet of the floor.

Madame Silk moved in quickly and rapped the back of Cole’s hamstrings sharply with her baton. His legs wobbled, gave way, and he landed on his knees in a bit of stupor. The Dominatrix grabbed his cowboy hat and gracefully hurled it across the room to land on the couch beside a stunned Mia. In a flash, there was a Bronzebind Collar in her hands that she clicked into place around Cole’s neck.

“Um, collaring him had not been my intention,” Trisha commented when Silk was done. “We have some nulling shackles that would work just as well.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it off…eventually. This little piggy needs a bit of discipline. You don’t barge in and speak to ladies under my watch like that.”

“I can’t say that I approve,” Mia said and rose from her seated position. “But if it’s not permanent, I suppose he did earn a bit of time in detention. You…you will let him go, right?”

“Of course,” Silk replied. “He will probably even come to thank me and not just because I’m very good at what I do.”

Mia looked at her quizzically in confusion, but it was Claudia who answered her.

“I’m afraid you won’t have any time to rest up,” she said and handed Mia the white pumps she had shrugged off moments earlier. “There is only one reasonable explanation for the teleporter pad to be blocked. The Liberation Army are ready to make their move on Dallas. No more hiding, it’s time to alert those who’ve agreed to our terms and get them moving through the waypoint.”

“Madre de Dios! I thought we’d have another couple of days. A lot of groups will barely have had time to prep for the evacuation.”

“We’re lucky we had this long. They could have attacked at any moment.”

Just then the building shook from the sound of a series of thunderous explosions. The group raced to the door, opened it and looked out onto the city nightscape which had been lit up. Several of the high-rise buildings in downtown Dallas were already on fire.

“They are using their ships to bombard the city,” Claudia whispered in mild shock. To punctuate her words a shell screeched across the sky and collided with the side of a skyscraper that had yet to be hit and erupted in flame and fury.

“I need to go!” Mia tried to run out of the building, but Claudia grabbed her by the nape and pulled her back inside.

“Claudia! What are you doing? You just told me we had to warn the evacuees.”

“It’s too late, Mia. I didn’t think they would unilaterally bombard the city like this. The walls and defensive structures, sure, but not the civilian centres. I’m not letting you run out into that. You aren’t strong enough. A direct hit or a collapsing building will kill you. The groups you contacted, they know where we are, correct?”

“Vaguely. I didn’t give them the exact location.”

“Then it's up to them. Don’t worry, there are a few things I can do to make this place easier to find if they are looking for it.”

“I’ll go,” Trisha volunteered.

“It’s hardly much safer for you out there,” Madame Silk reminded her.

“I’m not a civilian,” she reminded the group. “And Torin provided me with the best armour money can buy for my class. I’ll be okay. I’m no hero, if it looks like the Lamers switch to carpet bombing, I’ll be back with my tail between my legs. Besides, I’m best suited to get people moving without an argument and I can pick up the layabouts next door to help watch my back.”

“Fine,” Claudia conceded. “Don’t get yourself killed. Torin will be mega-pissed if you manage that.”

Trisha smiled, donned her armour and then slipped out the front door.

“I need to prepare the waypoints for the influx,” Claudia said. “Mia with me.”

“You don’t need me for that. I should be here to calm the refugees.”

“Alright, but don’t forget I can see everywhere in my ‘dungeon’. If you try and sneak off, don’t be surprised if you find yourself trapped in an oubliette.”

Mia flushed with embarrassment. That had been exactly what she planned to do. “Um…I…wasn’t…fine. I will stay inside the building.” She finally admitted defeat.

“Getting the arrivals down to the waypoint smoothly is an important task,” Madame Silk reminded her. “And not an easy one. Here, let me give you a few pointers on projecting authority and keeping large groups in line.”

Madame Silk only had fifteen minutes before the first group showed up at the theatre’s doors. There were only thirty of them, but they were petrified and confused. How could going into the basement of a square concrete building help them escape Dallas? Explaining the situation would take too long and it proved easier to simply get them moving down the stairs to where the waypoint entrance was sited. Seeing that would typically be enough to appease the doubters.

A grumpy-faced Cole looming at the entrance with his warhammer also helped convince a few of the louder voices to quieten down and do as they were told. He’d already been collared, there was no point not putting him to good use.

The imposed discipline on the refugees didn’t need to last for long. Once they were through, then it was Susan’s problem to deal with them on the other side. And that was something she excelled at.

Chapter 19

“The waypoint stairway is blocked,” Brant commented when we got back through the tunnel network.

Immediately, I had a bad feeling about the situation. One that was confirmed the moment a troglodyte dungeon mob scampered down the opposite tunnel when we arrived and came to a halt in front of us.

“Torin, the Liberation Army began their assault on Dallas two hours ago,” Claudia told him via the drooling trog. They had vocal cords which meant they could speak but it did come out a bit raspy. “I will have to switch the flow to let you out. Did you want to come here or head directly back to Stormblade Harbour?”

“How are things with the evacuation? Any problems?”

“We were caught on the hoof, so to speak. We might not be able to get as many people out as we hoped. We’ve managed thus far, there have been a few minor incidents. Panic and fear-driven mostly and nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“Okay, I’ll come to you and bring a squad to help. The rest can go straight back to Grand Rapids. Give me a couple of minutes to get the squads organised. That way we can move quickly and minimise interrupting the evac operation.”

“No problem. Just pat the trog on the head when you’re ready.”

The trog stopped talking and stared off into space.

The palm of my hand hit my forehead in frustration. “Bloody Nora! Couldn’t they have waited one more frigging day?”

“The enemy rarely cooperates with your preferred schedule,” Brant grunted with a half-smile.

“Do you want in on the evac operation?”

“If you don’t mind. Saving lives after a day spent taking them is good for the soul.”

“Sheamus,” I called out to the bombardier. “After Brant and I go through, lead the remaining squads back to Grand Rapids and resupply. Be ready within an hour. I might need you to head back at a moment’s notice if we get a chance to take out some of the Lamer ships. The odds are very low, but I want to be ready in any case.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” he answered gleefully. Any opportunity to blow stuff up was greeted with unabated enthusiasm.

Ten minutes later, I strode up the marble steps with Brant, Doc, and the rest of the squad who usually accompanied me. The area had been completely transformed and you wouldn’t have known it used to be a room where pornographic material used to be played for a crowd. All the seating and the hinky worn carpet had been replaced. The space was more open and allowed plenty of room for the frightened people awaiting their chance to escape the war outside.

Claudia was waiting for me with a big smile on her face. “Is that a gate in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

In answer, I wrapped her up in a warm embrace and kissed her deeply. “Everything cool here?”

“Mostly,” Claudia answered a touch breathlessly after the passionate kiss.

“What is it?” I could tell something was concerning her. My eyes flicked around the room, everything seemed to be in order. The people waiting to descend were a bit antsy at the delay, but they were behaving themselves for now.

“Trisha went out when all this started. Somebody needed to spread the word and hurry up the groups we’d contacted. She hasn’t come back yet, and the bombardment has not let up. We’ve had intel that the outer defences have been crushed and the Lamers are advancing quickly. The word from the guild channels we can spy on is that they think the city will fall within hours, by late afternoon at the latest. The locals severely underestimated the enemy’s strength. It would seem two-thirds of the Lamer soldiers remained concealed in their ships during the siege period.

“Just as you predicted, the Lamers were waiting for the reinforcements from Houston, Austin, and San Antonio to arrive so that they could wipe out Texas’ strength in a single blitzkrieg. With that done, the fall is happening even quicker than we anticipated and I’m concerned Trisha might end up getting caught on the wrong side of the advance.”

“Dammit!” I swore and concentrated on the small bundle that represented Trisha’s soul bond to me. “Okay, she hasn’t come to any serious harm, I would have felt that through the bond. She is west of us, somewhere in Irving, I think.”

“That’s a relief. They haven’t penetrated deep into Irving yet, but they are rampaging through Arlington and coming south through Coppell. It won’t be long before that region is overrun too.”

Trisha, get your ass back to the theatre. The Lamers are advancing much faster than expected. Avoid coming back along the 183. The Lamers will use the main roads to move quickly. Head for the park, I will meet you en route.

I fired out the recall message to her via Clarion’s Call and a couple of minutes later felt the confirmation that Trisha was heading back towards the waypoint.

“Brant, stay here and keep these people moving.” While I messaged Trisha, Claudia had reset the flow and beckoned for the next group to head down. “I’m going to bring back our wayward siren.”

***

I had little time to spare, only long enough to give Mia a quick kiss on the lips. She understood the need for me to get out there. It was best to leave the rest of the squad here too; I would be quicker on my own and the plan was not to engage the enemy.

A larger group would draw attention.

There was a set of train tracks a little south of our location that led directly west to the park and crossed over the river which ran through it. I followed the tracks moving at a sprint, occasionally dodging abandoned train cars. It was a couple of miles in a straight line and each step drew me closer to Trisha.

She was moving in a rough south-easterly direction, away from the 183 as I’d warned her. It seemed likely she had come to the same conclusion I had, that the bridge for the train tracks over the Trinity River would be the quickest way over. The Trinity River wasn’t very wide, ten or twelve metres, but you never knew what annoyances might be lurking under the water ready to attack and slow you down. The bridge would be best.

I reached the bridge only a few seconds ahead of her. Trisha was puffing away and had two Dallas soldiers in tow. Her face lit up when she saw me hanging out under the grey girders of the bridge frame. However, my joy at seeing her was short-lived.

The damn Lamers had adapted better than I thought possible. A vehicle that resembled a chariot with the beak of a predatory bird emblazoned in white and gold sped down the tracks behind her. It had been converted to run on the train tracks or perhaps the vehicle had the natural ability to adapt to any environment it found. Some of the more sophisticated land conversion equipment for ships had this capability. Either way, the Lamer chariot flew down the line travelling at close to fifty mph.

The Lamers swift advances made a lot more sense now. They hadn’t been camped outside merely waiting for an opportunity to wipe out the Lone Star Nation’s forces in one killer blow. They had been preparing to ensure that the city fell so quickly that nobody could escape their clutches. We may have underestimated the depths of their zealotry and depravity.

“Behind you!” I bellowed and desperately cast the Cold Feet cantrip on the front wheel of the chariot hoping to derail it.

The chariot proved to be too heavy or too well protected and it shattered the ice which formed around the wheel as if it were nothing of consequence. The cawing eagle on the front kept coming unobstructed.

The two Dallas soldiers were either too slow or didn’t hear me and the speeding chariot ploughed over them. One was cut in half by the protruding wing of the eagle-like creature decoration. Only it was not merely decorative, those wings must have been razor sharp to do that kind of instant damage to the man. The second soldier stumbled forward and avoided the same bisected fate of his companion only to be crushed by the momentum of the chariot that passed over him without a bump.

Trisha, at least, either heard my called warning or felt the spike of fear through our bond and threw herself off to the side and avoided any harm apart from the indignity of rolling like a rag doll through the gravel.

The chariot didn’t slow in the slightest and now I could see that it was dragging a train of open-top carriages loaded with Lamer warriors. Two of those soldiers leapt from one of the moving cars and landed not far from where Trisha was regaining her footing. Intent on capturing or finishing off the Siren. Meanwhile, the chariot transport zoomed onward down the track and passed my position on the bridge unabated.

I barely had time to formulate a plan before I was forced to leap from the bridge girder and onto the riverbank below. The chariot transport bristled with Lamer warriors and a few of them swung or fired their weapons at me as they passed. My concentration was elsewhere, and I was hit a couple of times, but my armour mitigated most of the damage.

With a pointed finger, I cast Summon Rift Beast behind me across the river at the other end of the park. I counted seven or eight mostly full open-top box cars being dragged by the chariot. That meant one hundred and fifty, perhaps more, Lamer warriors all headed in the direction of the evacuation point. Their intention might have been to go deeper into Dallas, but it wasn’t a risk I could take.

Our building was visible from the tracks and would draw them in like a moth to a flame. Especially with the modifications Claudia had made so that the Dallas evacuees could home in on the place.

A Steel-tailed Razorwolf prowled out of the sparkling cloud of orange and purple summoning smoke. I needed something swift enough to keep pace with the chariot and the Razorwolf fit the bill. The battle for control was won and I commanded the beast to derail the transport chariot or simply harry them if it couldn’t do that.

The gigantic metallic wolf bowed its head in deference and gave chase. Its shoulder banged into the back and almost overturned the last open-top car which rose upwards to almost a forty-five-degree angle before crashing back down. It was no longer on the rails of the track and bumped and bounced behind slowing the whole train down a little.

That was all I had time to observe. With the Goresteel Greatblade in hand, I turned away and sprinted in the opposite direction to where the pair of Lamer warriors closed in on Trisha.

Joktan Creel (Longbeard Dwarf)

Devout Holy Paladin (Valiant) (K) Blocked.

Character Aptitude: Moderate

Loot Value: Blocked.

Threat: Blocked

Current Affiliation: The Liberation Army of Moral Emancipators

---

Keas Fallrise (Celestial)

Angelfire Crusader (Valiant) (J) Blocked.

Character Aptitude: Moderate

Loot Value: Blocked.

Threat: Blocked

Current Affiliation: The Liberation Army of Moral Emancipators

The paladin was a male dwarf barely five feet tall who bore a shield on one arm and a hammer on the other. I couldn’t tell how long his beard was because it was tightly plaited and woven into knots to keep it out of the way.

The Crusader was the first Celestial I had encountered. Her skin was light blue, and her hair, tied back in a topknot, was a bright yellow. She wielded a spear and had a very large crossbow strapped to her back. Both wore finely crafted interlinking plate armour with the symbol of a sword piercing through the centre of a fiery halo emblazoned on the white tabards that covered their armour.

The weapons, tabards, and armour were stained with blood, evidence they had already seen action earlier in the day. Probably when the Lamers launched their surprise offensive against the Texas armies who had come to relieve the siege.

Trisha had surged back to her feet and engaged her sonic hum shield while actively trilling with a different set of vocal cords in an attempt to overwhelm their minds. It may have slowed their advance for a few seconds, but the pair quickly shook off its influence.

“Sing all you want, ya dumb bitch!” The dwarf, Joktan, growled and spat a wad of something disgusting that resembled chewing tobacco on the ground. “It won’t do you any good. We’re warded against that kind of interference.”

“Marshall Campion pays a nice bounty for siren tongues,” the Celestial woman snarled. Aesthetically, Kaes was a beautiful woman, but there was an edge to her voice that spoke of a deep level of sadism and hate in her heart. You couldn’t help but shudder with revulsion when her visage fell upon you.

However, their lust for blood and rewards worked to my advantage because all their focus was on Trisha and none of it on my rapidly approaching charge. Trisha spotted me and knew what to do. She hopped away from the pair at the last minute and gave me room to use my Breath Weapon ability.

To add to the pain, I assigned Shattering on both combatants and reduced their damage mitigation to low despite the armour they wore and exhaled a stream of frost breath. The cone enveloped the duo and the damage notification flicked past my eyeline.

*** Critical Strike! x4 You have inflicted 6,720 of cold damage and 6 points of Health loss due to frostbite to two combatants, Joktan Creel and Kaes Fallrise. ***

That neither of the two Lamers dropped after such a massive hit was a testament to their gear and level. Whatever glyphs they’d been tattooed with or the equipment they wore prevented me from getting proper details beyond their current class.

I would be surprised if they weren’t both well over level fifty and had to wear a limiter glyph to allow them on the planet. The good news was that 6,720 was more than half of their Hit Point pool. Dealing more than half in a single hit is what activated the Frostbite effect and stripped a point of Health for every thousand Hit Points lost.

“Damnation!” Joktan roared and turned his head towards me. His eyes narrowed in even greater rage when he spotted that it was an Acheronian bearing down on him. He lost his cool and turned his back on Trisha. “Abomination!” the dwarf screeched, and he started to glow red after activating some kind of berserk ability.

“No, heal yourself and kill the siren first, you fool,” Keas cried to no avail.

While Joktan screamed at me, she had quaffed and discarded an empty healing potion bottle, draining it in a single gulp. Then launched her spear at Trisha while yelling at the dwarf to make the correct tactical decision.

Trisha only just managed to evade being skewered by the hurtling weapon with the help of her sonic shield which diverted the trajectory of the spear away from her. But the force of the blow took a lot out of the defensive measure. The shimmer in the air was decidedly thinner than it had been, and it wouldn’t stand up to much more punishment.

Joktan frothed at the mouth, ignored the advice of his wiser companion and came at me, hammer swinging with unnatural speed. Thankfully, my agility wasn’t bad either, and I managed to evade the first attempted strike, duck low, and jam the point of my blade under the dwarf’s armpit in response.

*** Critical Strike! x2 You have inflicted 652 piercing and 32 cold damage. An additional 326 piercing and 16 cold damage will be applied over the next 10 seconds as a bleed effect. ***

Blood gushed from under his arm where the wound had been inflicted. The notification meant he still had Hit Points left, but that didn’t come as a surprise with the red berserk nimbus. Such abilities typically sacrificed Health to radically boost Hit Points. It’s what Luca had done to extend the fight against me a few months ago. It would be fair to say that I was sick of the ability.

In response, the haft of Joktan’s hammer clattered into my shoulder with a blind backward jab. The damn base of the handle was spiked, of course.

*** - 225 Hit Points. 9,100/9,525 remaining. ***

Even with the supreme mitigation of my armour that was an unexpectedly big chunk of Hit Points to lose from a simple shoulder strike. I had no fears about outlasting the likes of Joktan and Kaes, it was Trisha’s fate that had me concerned.

We traded several more blows in as many seconds, but only long enough to rack up a significant amount of extra bleed damage on the dwarf.

With a final flicked slash to the back of his calf, I abandoned the fight with the Joktan, crouched low and used Dragon’s Leap to soar over the head of the blue celestial woman. This put me between Kaes and Trisha, however, the celestial’s reactions were top tier and she managed to score a hit on my hip as I came back down to Earth.

*** - 125 Hit Points. 8,200/9,525 remaining. ***

Nevertheless, my sudden appearance forced Kaes to back off from Trisha whose sonic shield had completely dissolved by this point. Trisha had been trying and mostly failing to ward off Kaes’ spear thrusts with her polearm. The bloodied rents in Trisha’s clothing testament to the success Kaes had made passing by her defences on multiple occasions in a very short space of time.

The Whispering Bard had made great strides in terms of combat prowess in the last few months, but she was still a novice in comparison to the bloodthirsty Liberation Army warriors. They had been forged in a crucible of blood and battle and it showed in their natural combat skills. They were well versed in using their favoured weapons in combat and that would only have boosted their natural skill levels.

“Get out of here!” I barked to Trisha who was now behind me and pushed forward to give her a bit more space.

Trisha didn’t need to be told twice and she turned tail and ran down the railway track towards the bridge over the river.

However, things did not go to plan.

Foolishly, I’d largely written off the berserking dwarf as a threat to Trisha. Earlier he’d be wholly focused on attacking me, and I expected that to continue. But at the worst possible moment, the red nimbus which surrounded him stuttered and flickered out.

Joktan’s first reaction was to pant and wheeze suffering the ill effects of the comedown from his ability and the many sources of bleed I’d inflicted. Then he spotted the fleeing Trisha and his eyes narrowed with shrewd calculation.

“Hold the pirate back, Kaes. I need to slay a sinner and boost my divine regeneration.”

Kaes nodded her understanding. Before I understood Joktan meant Trisha and not me, she cast aside her spear, rushed forward, and grappled with me. Thereby, preventing me from using my boots to once again leap between the siren and incoming danger.

It seemed that the world slowed down.

Joktan activated another ability and bull-rushed towards Trisha, running her down in a couple of mighty, empowered strides. His hammer swung high over his head in a wide arc and descended with incredible killing intent. It missed the back of Trisha’s head by a hair’s width but slammed into her hip with a resounding thud so loud I heard the pelvic bones snap from the force.

Trisha crumpled to the floor in absolute agony.

I roared in rage, summoned small ice blades by the dozen and stabbed them into the neck, temple, and eyes of a shocked Kaes. She must have believed I would be unable to create or summon weapons while locked in her grip. If she had such an ability, I’d bulldozed through it without thinking.

Her grappling hands fell away, and she stumbled to the ground, but not quickly enough. The crazed dwarf had taken another step forward and raised his hammer high again to bring it cracking down on Trisha’s defenceless head.

A gust of wind whipped across my cheek and the whine of a fast-moving object tickled my ears. A blur of white and scarlet zipped overhead and past the dwarf with his beefy arm raised and he squawked in shock.

The hammer did not fall upon Trisha.

Instead, it teetered in his grip and then dropped to the ground, shortly followed by the hand and arm which held it, shorn clean off just above the shoulder. The dwarf stood there in shocked stillness for a moment before he twitched and toppled to the ground as a severed part of his head came loose and spilt what passed for his brains onto the verge of grass.

Kaes gurgled and gasped on her knees at my feet, but she didn’t hold my attention.

Trisha’s unexpected saviour did.

The flying woman circled back around, and her feet came to rest on the grass beside the prone siren. The scarlet-tipped white wings on her back flexed, flapped, and then retracted in on themselves so as not to be overbearing.

The blazing stare of the beautiful dark-haired woman fixed me in place. Her eyes were puffy, and her cheeks glinted wetly with shed tears in the early morning sun. Floods of tears.

“Nice to see you again, Raven,” I said.

“I cannot say the same of you, Carter!” She snapped in return.

Raven Reynolds had lost none of her disdain or dislike for me it seemed.

Chapter 20

Volnis Karspent

Stormblade Harbour

“Today I bestow upon you worms an honour far greater than any of you deserve,” Li Qiang informed the group of four infiltrators as they finished up the daily mopping of the Slave Market’s first sub-level basement. “The work for the day is not yet complete. Follow me and we will go down to the next level. This is a highly restricted area. Only those with the supreme trust of Lord Carter, like me, have permission to bring worms like you inside. Behave and I will see that you get an extra bowl of slop to eat tonight. Disappoint me and you will walk the dungeon!”

At last! Volnis thought to himself.

He had begun to grow frustrated with the middle-aged Chinese man. It had been weeks since he planted the idea for Li Qiang to bring them down here. He’d been half-afraid that he’d miscalculated, and they would have to activate an alternate strategy. Turns out, it had taken Li Qiang this long to wheedle the necessary permission.

Li Qiang led the group to the lift they needed to use to descend to the next level. Once they were inside, he pressed the correct button and the lift door clanged shut. Volnis used the noise of the closing door to cover the tiny sound made when his fingernail clicked the switch to deactivate his collar. Furda and the other two men adjusted their collars in the same manner.

The lift dinged and shuddered to a stop, then the door slid open.

“Get to work,” Li Qiang commanded and ushered the group out onto the second basement sub-level.

The scene which met Volnis’ eyes was even more gratifying than he expected. The different-sized cells were filled with a panoply of beasts and monsters that had been sold to podiums. Nothing on this level was particularly dangerous but setting them free in the heart of the capital where nobody expected them to be would cause mass panic and chaos.

Amid that type of confusion, a skilled operator like himself could strike a decisive blow.

On top of that, no guards were patrolling the area.

A bit slack of Carter’s operation perhaps. They must have decided there was no need to keep a watch. Everything down here was collared and locked up, after all.

“I said get to work!” LI Qiang screeched and kicked Volnis squarely in the ass.

However, unlike every other time the arrogant fool had abused Volnis before, he didn’t sprawl forward, fall to the floor and fawn at his feet. The sandalled foot met the equivalent of a wall of iron. There was no longer a need to keep up the pretence of pathetic subservience.

Volnis arched his neck and looked over his shoulder at his longtime abuser. The mask of shock on Li Qiang’s face was priceless. Only matched by the confusion and eventual pain as three sharpened mop handles were detached from the sockets of the mop-head and pierced into his body: lung, heart, and the third at the base of his skull.

Li Qiang choked like a fish out of water for a few seconds and then collapsed to his knees quite dead.

“You know what to do,” Volnis whispered to his compatriots, and they hurried to kick-off the plan, unlocking the cages and leading the collared mobs out.

The creatures had little choice but to obey the orders they were given.

For now.

The plan was not a success yet, Volnis had to complete a vital task first or the first released mobs would turn on them. The damn things couldn’t be reasoned with and once out of their collars would ignore all previous commands.

He got back in the lift and rode it back up to the main floor. It was much busier here on the ground floor, there was even a gathering of people that seemed to be protesting the existence of the market. That proved to be very useful because it distracted any guards. Their attention was focused on the noisy interlopers and not on a lone cleaning slave wandering around by himself unsupervised. With his head down, Volnis exited the market and made his way to the first available public podium terminal.

After checking that nobody could see what he was doing, Volnis input a personal code and accepted a delivery that he had set up in advance. The weapons, armour, and items delivered were quickly hidden in his inventory before they could be seen by any snooper and Volnis quickly retraced his steps back to the lift.

The protest in the main mezzanine continued, if anything, it had heated up considerably. Several of the protestors were pushing and shoving the militia members who were appealing for them to remain calm. Nobody noticed when he slipped by and took the lift back down to the second sub-basement.

Furda and the other two infiltrators were almost done releasing the mobs from their cages.

“I’ve got your gear,” Volnis told them as he stepped off the lift and started to hand out proper armour and weaponry to the group. Armour, even armour hidden in an inventory, infused you with a sense of comfort. You felt less vulnerable than when forced to walk around with none.

The last item Volnis brought out was a wooden chest that he put down on the floor and opened with a sharp hiss as air rushed into the vacuum-sealed container. Inside it was filled with tiny alchemical devices. “Okay, we must be quick. Now that these have been exposed to the air they’ll automatically activate in an hour, and you don’t want to be around when they do. Put one on the catch of a mob’s collar. When the reaction hits its peak, it will eat through the mechanism and free the mob. Shuttle them up to the first sub-basement and order them to stay put and be quiet. We know they rarely bother to patrol during the day when we are supposed to be cleaning.

“There are stairwells up to the main mezzanine from the first sub-basement. We will sabotage any door that could be closed and when the fizzers eat through the collars, the mobs will do what mobs do. The only way out for them will be up the ground floor. Once that phase is complete, Furda and I will head to the palace. Glort and Coffos, stay here and break into the lowest levels. Here.” Volnis produced a smaller case from his inventory and handed it over. “These fizzers have a five-minute fuse. Open the cells to the biggest beasts, attach them, then lead them into the lifts and send them up. Lay low and we will rendezvous at the agreed location later.”

“Understood,” Coffos said and took the case from him.

After weeks of patience, the plan was finally coming together.

Volnis helped the others ferry the lesser monsters up a level for the next thirty minutes and then he and Furda sabotaged the doors under the guise of cleaning and polishing them for the next twenty.

Everything was in place, and they had a few minutes before the fizzers ate through the collars and ignited carnage. Volnis nodded to Furda, and they padded back up to the mezzanine. Getting out of the market proved to be a bit more complex than he’d initially expected. The militia had withdrawn from the building since he last navigated his way through. The stall shutters had been lowered and the doors to the upper levels where the administration functions happened were closed and locked.

The protesting throng had full control of the mezzanine area.

They were in a boisterous mood. Whooping and hollering as if they had scored a grand victory.

“Down with tyranny! Democracy for Michigan!”

“Carter out! Carter out!”

That and dozens of other meaningless slogans were being called out. Pushing through the jubilant crowd without standing out is what delayed their progress. The people weren’t trying to slow them, they were simply ignorant of their desire to leave and were getting in the way.

Volnis recognised what was occurring here, he even spotted a few planted agitators in the crowd. Somebody was making a play for more power and influence and used the easily gulled to cause a ruckus on their behalf. He’d organised similar demonstrations for clients in the past. Although Volnis was unsure what democracy was supposed to be, the Framework struggled to translate the word into something familiar to him.

It was the worst timing ever for them, though.

Whatever modicum of power the architects or this uprising were trying to appropriate for themselves would be irrelevant shortly. This place would fall to the consortium soon enough. Those who survived would be enslaved and sold to whoever needed to replace the slaves they’d already worked to death. Not that Volnis expected many of this lot to survive the day.

Not with what had been set in motion at his instruction.

“What is our target?” Furda whispered when they finally managed to exit the building and slip away with barely a minute to spare before time ran out.

“Carter’s first wife is pregnant with his heir. We break into the palace in the confusion, cut her throat, kill the babe, and then move on to sabotaging the defences. A man riven by grief and anger is apt to make poor decisions. Decisions we can take advantage of.”

Just then, the soft cheering and chanting which had carried on the wind from the market behind transitioned into screams of terror and pain.

Volnis hid a smile behind his hands. The turmoil had begun.