"Well, I'll be damned," John gawked at the imposing wall surrounding the outer perimeter of the shelter… no, not a shelter, but a bastion.
The walls were more than twice as high, forming a slick dark-grey obstacle between the attackers and the people inside. Another thing he noticed from the distance was the lookout towers built into the wall around its entire length, cementing the view of an impregnable fortress.
"Are those…" he squinted his eyes, trying to understand the meaning behind the sleek constructs fixed to the tops of each tower.
"Mounted weapons?" Galan'il suggested, clearly enjoying John's awestruck expression.
"Huh."
As they moved closer, a gate of a similar size to the one leading into the outer courtyard of Charles' castle lifted and they were escorted inside.
"Wait, and those are… houses?" John asked, staring at the rows of square structures with oddly shaped roofs that were filling up his vision on both sides of the outer perimeter.
"Yes, they are," cheered the young Predator. "Come on, we need to hurry before all the best spots get taken!" He rushed ahead like a hungry panther chasing its prey.
"The last one has to do the report!" Shouted a woman from the other squad and also ran off, closely followed by most of the other Aerilians, leaving behind only the two Tacticians, who were giving their commander uncertain looks while their bodies were brimming with impatience.
"Go," Galan'il sighed, waving them off. "I'll report to His Highness myself.
"Thank you, Sir!" The woman from the first squad smiled and they both ran to catch up with the rest of their groups.
"Are there any other surprises?" John wondered aloud.
"A couple… The most important one is a one-way gateway leading into all connected shelters, offering us immediate access in case of an emergency."
"Huh, that reminds me, I have this structure called Astragoratius Mechatius, and it mentioned something about a connection between bastions?"
"Oh yes, that one can open two-way gateways between bastions inside the same territory. Not useful to us right now, but will be good to have in the future," he nodded but then froze up and his eyes widened in shock. "John!? Do you know if it can point to the direction of the Territory Hierarch?"
"Hmm… I think so. I tried it once and it painted an arrow to the north-west, why?"
"Blessed be Tharasil'ab! If it works as I think it does, you are going to have a massive advantage over everyone else in the world." Galan'il laughed. "Do you know how difficult it is to find the Hierarch's lair?" Imagine if you only had a single direction and a flimsy one at that…"
"Right…" John nodded thinking about the problem. "I see! So if I move and recheck the position, I'll always know which direction to go. But how are others supposed to find it then? Unless… unless they work together with other bastions and cross the directions on their maps! Am I right?"
"You are. Sure, sometimes people get lucky and stumble upon it on their own, but most of the time it is a joint effort. Now imagine how you share the rewards… unless you conquer the other bastion yourself and force them to reveal it for you."
"How difficult Territory Hierarch is?" John asked, already thinking about his plans.
"Normally, I'd say exceedingly difficult for a fifteen-person group, but with you… who knows. I have no idea of the true scope of your cards, but from what I've seen already, someone like you shouldn't even exist in the later stages of the integration, let alone now."
"Bah, I'll take that as a compliment, but honestly, this whole thing is bullshit. How are natives supposed to compete against people like you…"
"That's the thing, they aren't," Galan'il shook his head. "The most likely scenario is either enslavement or total annihilation of the native species. On some rare occasions, they form an alliance with the winning fraction early and end up as their second-grade citizens."
"And what about natives winning the conflict themselves? Surely it must happen sometimes, right?"
"Oh, yes. It happens," Galan'il chuckled. "That is how the legend of the Blacktide was born. Then there was the Unstoppable Sovereign, and lastly, someone whose portrait you might have noticed hanging behind the counter in every inn."
"You mean Serath?" John's eyes widened in recognition.
"The great patroness of hearth, hunt, and justified slaughter herself. And those three occasions are the only ones where natives overcame the odds in the last ten millennia," Galan'il nodded before shaking his head. "I should report our success to the prince, so…"
"Wait! Before you go, how do you see our current situation developing?"
"Let's ask His Highness. He and Duraq'er will be better informed than us."
___________________________________
It turned out, they were not the only group with clashes against the aggressive survivors.
The final tally ended up being nineteen incapacitated, thirty-one killed, and seven left alive. After that, the scouts reported observing the rest of the natives' advance parties falling back and rejoining their main host.
With that out of the way, John grabbed Melis'ar's attention and voiced his questions about the imminent future which pulled the attention of a few other Aerilian officers to the discussion and they spent a couple of minutes talking about the most likely outcomes.
Just as John expected, all their predictions ended badly for the advancing natives, making him reconsider his plans.
Can I even call it justice, he pondered. Watch the hundreds of desperate survivors get massacred under the unsalable wall?
The most likely scenarios were either the desperate assault or a helpless retreat back to their shelters and as much as he'd like to find the bastard who killed his old neighbor, pouring his anger out on the common people was neither satisfying nor an efficient use of his time.
Melis'ar made one thing very clear, he would not be lured out into a fight in a disadvantaged position. His exact words were: "I will not endanger the lives of my people when there are safer alternatives!"
However, to John's surprise, he then clarified that it was not only the Aerilians but everyone who pleaded fealty to his bastion. Those were all his people now, and he accepted the responsibility as their liege to protect them and their interests just as if they were ones of his own race.
On the other hand, Duraq'er proposed a solution that was brutal and very simple. They were willing to offer a single chance to anyone defecting from the enemy's shelters to break the morale, with the plan to starve them out.
Right, Melis'ar should somehow gain the power to disable all System buildings in the enemy shelters, and if their people grew over-reliant on the inns as the source of food…
Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, John calmed down and made his decision.
"I don't think I am going to be useful right now, so I'll head north and finish the second challenge of the day."
Letting the rest of the meeting pass in silence, he listened to the myriad of plans and counter strategies for all the possibilities they could think of. An interesting piece of information was how exactly would the prince disable access to System buildings of the hostile shelters inside his sector. He would now commission a new building called the Command bunker, and from there he would not only issue the bans but also gain access to a few sector-wide buffs, something John found very convenient for everyone involved.
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"Well, good luck," John waved after the prince finally called the end of the debriefing and headed out.
Passing through the north gate with no issue, he only stopped for a moment to appreciate the people razing the neighboring villas to the ground.
They must be clearing the area to gain a clear view, making a direct assault even more difficult.
The streets around the bastion were already cleared up so it took him only a couple of minutes before he reached the outskirts. There, he came to a sudden stop, caught off guard by the movement before him.
One… two… three… four… five? He mentally counted the squads of tall people wearing the familiar robes of Aerilian design interspersed among the throng of the undead.
I guess I'll pick my place and get to work. He nodded, but before activating the challenge timer, he remembered his new companion.
Smiling, he closed his eyes and after finding the sleeping mind tethered to his right arm, he reached out and gently poked it, calling her name. The enthusiastic yip he got in response made him smile and coax the little predator out.
Slowly opening his eyes, he observed the scaly creature stretching out before him. She grew to the size of a retriever, but that wasn't the only visual change. Where previously she was covered in brown scales that shimmered under the moonlight, there were now a few palm-sized patches of pale green.
If he didn't remember the massive changes of the other Shimmerfangs, he might have been worried about the odd spots, but right now he chalked it up to the uniqueness of their species and moved on.
"Are you ready?"
Yip!
"Then let's get to it," he laughed, activated the challenge card, and willed all three minions to engage.
Her attributes must have increased proportionally to her size because she was now strong and heavy enough to pounce on the zombie's chest, tackle it to the ground, and chew its head off in a couple of well-placed bites. That was why he let her enjoy her new prowess for a couple more kills but later stepped in, convincing her to pace herself. After all, they had many more zombies before them.
As the minutes stretched into hours, Witherfang grew more and more confident, playing with the unintelligent zombies as she slowly tore them up limb from limb. Seeing her kill count almost reaching the goal, John let her single out a member of the incoming Rothound pack.
At first, he wanted to move in and assist her the moment she got injured, but his gut somehow warned him off. It wasn't the typical pang of imminent danger but instead a warning against a bad choice.
Remembering a talk with Dilah'ec about these gut feelings, she explained to him it was one of the ways people could feel Fate's guidance. For her, it was apparently an itch to do something that would get more uncomfortable the longer she ignored it unless she explicitly decided to act against it.
She still had the imminent danger component to it like him, but hers was much weaker and worked only in a life-or-death situation. Instead, she got the inklings of necessary actions that would later converge into a single beneficial result.
His five hundred zombie kills were already done, but because he felt confident of easily finishing the rest of the challenge, he let Witherfang experiment with her budding abilities. She retained the almost instantaneous charge but also showed some kind of decaying bite.
That became the deciding factor in her ongoing fight against the Rothound, where she suddenly filled her jaws with sickly green light and used her agility to deliver a bite to the hound's back leg, leaving there a shallow wound glowing in the same green color. That sickly light slowly spread through the entire leg, drying the wet flesh and making it crumble into dust.
After that, the fight rapidly devolved into a slaughter as she darted around the crippled monster, opening more and more wounds until it bled out.
Seeing her later climb on top of the motionless corpse and emit a deep keening cry filled him with pride, however it seemed like all the exertion fell on her like a bag of bricks. She sagged on top of the corpse and promptly fell asleep.
Don't worry little one, I'll let you have a short nap.
Using the increase in his range to his advantage, he commanded his Storm Wisps to pull the roaming packs to their location, making steady progress despite barely moving more than a couple of meters from his sleeping bond.
[Venturing outside
Zombie: 500/500
Rothound: 40/40
Rothound Alpha: 2/2
Rotfiend: 0/1
Killing blows: 100/100
Time remaining: 1:16:29]
Good, I am almost done.
Next, he opened Witherfang's status.
[Witherfang {F⋆}
Affinity: Death: F
Triumphs:
* Defeated (Rothound {E}) in single combat while being {F⋆}
Next evolution: 144/150]
"Huh, that… ehm…" John mumbled in surprise as he read the new addition to her status screen. "Well I'll let you rest for a bit more, but we have to move soon. I also have a monster to overcome."
Luckily a few minutes later she stirred and lifted her sharp head, blinking the last remnants of sleep away.
"You good to go?"
Watching her shake like a wet dog and spray the nasty bits of the decaying monster everywhere around her made John dive back and only narrowly evade the wave of filth thrown out his way.
"Hey! What was that for?"
She ignored him and turned toward the nearest zombie.
"Don't ignore me! I know damn well you can understand what I am…"
She pounced…
Right, John sighed.
Helping her get the remaining kills as fast as possible, she once again burst into a cloud of smoke and wound herself around his right arm.
Getting Witherfang's next evolution… check.
The second objective of his plan was to finish the challenge and he already spotted the last monster not that far away.
Taking a glance at the card, he rechecked the remaining time and moved on.
[Venturing outside
…
…
Time remaining: 0:57:48]
There were a few dozen zombies and a few roaming packs between them, but they served barely as a distraction and he steadily pushed on.
[Rotfiend {D⋆}]
With the monster in range, there was one last preparation to be made. Pulling up his left sleeve, John made a small cut with his stiletto. After that, he grasped the handle and carefully coated both sides of the blade with his grey blood.
Now, I am ready.
Not wasting any more time, he commanded all three of his minions to engage.
The Rotfiend was massive, easily over twelve feet in height and over fifteen feet in length, but where its bulky physique would normally act to its advantage, against John and his minions it became the greatest weakness.
His blessed stiletto coated in grey blood was wreaking havoc on its fleshy exterior and the lightning bolts and superheated sandstorms served to further impede its already bad mobility.
The final nail to the proverbial coffin turned out to be the magical javelin with its point also coated in grey blood. John's first throw sunk a foot deep into its foreleg and the second pierced almost halfway into the center of its chest.
"Aaand done," he cheered, watching it fall over, gaining a new pop-up shortly after.
[Venturing outside - completed!
Zombie killing blows 500
Rothound killing blows: 40
Rothound Alpha killing blows: 2
Rotfiend killing blows: 1
Difficulty modifier: +350%
Total rewards: 2250 white ash, 198 blue ash, 9 yellow ash]
Finish the second challenge… check, he mentally crossed the next task, having only one other thing to do.
To buy the last three attribute boosting cards, he had to collect twenty-one thousand and six hundred white ash, and after the challenge, he held nine yellows, three hundred and ninety-seven blues, and over four thousand whites.
A quick math later, he figured out he was missing roughly two thousands worth and he was in the best place to get it.
I could kill that Rotfiend over there and be done with it, he pondered before nodding and heading left. There was one of the Aerilian squads in that direction, but they seemed content tearing through hundreds of zombies with their area of effect abilities and occasionally taking down a roaming pack of Rothounds.
The next hour turned into a gory blur with him going all out on anything close and finishing with the easiest Rotfiend kill yet.
Hell, even the squad stopped with their slaughter and began cheering him from the side, making him feel slightly awkward in the process. Luckily he was finally done and even obtained a couple of common and a few uncommon cards. Unfortunately nothing immediately useful.
Time to find a safe place and push my attributes into a D-grade.