Chapter 3 - Part 1 of 1 (Patreon)

Grey Peak's Branch Sect leader Heidi Storgaard looked at Meokar, there were some signs of fighting but it was limited.

Her fair complexion was marred with the sweat and dirt from the last several weeks of hard fighting and limited sleep.

Her hand was never far from her weapon. She stood on the wall of Meokar, looking over the once proud city. Smoke rose from where different fires were burning out. Buildings had been smashed apart by attacks. The Willful Institute’s castle was in a state of disrepair.Those that had been left behind as the rear guard were turning into motes of light, their tombstones already looted.

Konal Gudriksson stomped his way up the steps to the wall. The heavyset man was a mountain of armor with his braid hanging down his back.

“Losses?” Storgaard asked.

“Minimal, we didn’t push ahead and try to get battle honors.We left that to the stupid and eager surrounding sects,” Gudriksson grunted.

She noticed his eyes resting on a particular flag that wasn’t part of any sect.

“And the Adventurer’s Guild? I have heard some rumors.”

“They’re a wild bunch. You saw their magic, their attacks, using different spell scrolls together with devastating effect. How they rolled up the enemy right after the attack. They fucking ran into that storm of dust and destruction without batting an eye, complete trust in their leaders. That’s another thing, their tactics aren’t orthodox. They didn’t give a shit about battle honors. They only cared about one thing, destroying the Willful Institute and their people. They did it.”

The two members of the Grey Peak Sect stood there. They would have been celebrating, if this was any other day; if victory had come any other way. Instead it was as if they had found out that there was a snake living under their bed. Thankfully its target was someone else.

“Did you talk to the leaders?” Gudriksson broke the silence.

“I did, they sent me back a report.” Storgaard pulled out a piece of paper and passed it to Gudriksson.

“It is a list of the different fighters that were part of the competition in Vuzgal. It goes into their different attacks, possible abilities, and how much the sect thinks that they were holding back. The Willful Institute stepped on the wrong snake.This one has hidden fangs.”

Gudriksson read through the information, shaking his head afterwards.

The different sect’s fighting forces marched around, showing off to one another. Though they made sure to not go into the area occupied by the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Did you talk to Jasper?”

“He is heading to a negotiation with another sect. It seems that word has spread about their abilities and people are interested in taking on the Willful Institute. No other contracts, discounted price,” Storgaard snorted, but the corners of her mouth pulled up in a grin.

“Are you jealous?” Gudrikksson asked.

Storgaard saw teeth in Gudriksson’s smile, his eyes shining through the slits in his helmet.

“Remember the days when we stood beside one another on the battlefield, the thrill before it all. The simmering tension before then the release of victory. Seeing your brothers and sisters around you, raising our weapons in honor of those lost. And, just fucking telling the world, ‘fuck you, I’m still here’?”

The two veterans looked at one another, feeling the drop in their gut from the losses, while their hearts beat like war drums before the charge.

“Never feel more alive or more dead,” Gudriksson said.

“If they can make it through all of this and through the rest of the Willful Institute, they won’t be just some Adventurer’s Guild anymore. Makes me think of how our own Grey Peak Sect came from a group of mercenaries.”

“The Ten Realms is a place for people to make a future and a place for it to be all ripped away in the next second.”

***

“Lieutenant Colonel Zukal, have everyone ready to move out in thirty,” Colonel Domonos Silaz walked up on his second in command. He used his sound transmission device so no one else could listen to their conversation. Within the military it was a common practice.

Zukal put away the sword he was cleaning.

“Yes sir, where are we headed?”

“Several forces have recently hired the Adventurer’s Guild. We will be linking up with reinforcements, adding in new blood and then breaking up to go to the different battlefields.” Domonos looped his fingers into his breastplate, pulling it away to get some air circulating underneath and pull the weight from his shoulders and neck.

“What about the Regiment?” The Close Protection Details, select veteran squads and most of the command from the Dragon Regiment under Colonel Domonos had been part of the fight for Meokar. Any that hadn’t been in the battle had been operating secretly behind Willful Institute’s lines, inside their cities. Only a few key members of the Adventurer’s Guild knew about the Alva Military’s involvement.

Others just thought that they were veteran members of the Adventurer’s Guild.

“Ours is not to question where we go, it is to go and do as we’re told.”

“Sir yes sir,” Zukal mimicked a brand new private, the two officers broke into grins.

“We’re breaking into three units, one will support Jasper, another Blaze, the third will be with us. We’re heading to another city in the Third Realm. We’ll get more information once we meet up with our new reinforcements.”

“Yes sir. I’ll make sure that they’re ready to move.”

“Good man.”

Zukal headed off.

Domonos looked around, shifting his sweaty armor more. People rested where they were. Organized in an all around defense, they sat where they could, talking to one another in hushed tones.

Domonos saw the flashes of light from the impacts of the penetrators, the rumble of thunder, the dust storm that was thrown up. Everything from leaving Reynir, to arriving at this moment, if someone was to ask him about it, it would be a blur of actions followed by reactions, plans falling apart and being thrown back together again.

Now, as he stood there, it all started to come back to him in startling clarity. Like a student before a grandmaster, he started to study everything he had done. He had fought before, in competitions against small groups, one on one. He had never fought in a battle on such a scale. He’d trained and trained and trained. Now as his first battle had gone off without any major fuck-ups,instead of feeling relieved, he felt that he had so much further to go. How a moment of indecision meant that the enemy had gotten ahead of them.

Instead of relief, he felt greater pressure to perform better next time.

I wonder what command is up to now. He and all of my CPD teams got pulled away to carry out phase two. Whatever it is, the Willful Institute is sure to hate it.