Gregory Valentine read the letter from Nierburg once more, disbelief mixing with rage. Damn it. He breathed slowly, not letting his anger get the better of him. They were still in the best position they’d had in decades, and rash decisions now could compromise everything. So, he continued his measured breathing, waiting for his guests to arrive. Tucker was the first to enter the office, followed shortly after by Carlyle. Cornelius was the last, but that was hardly a surprise given the beating he’d taken at Valentine’s hands after he’d returned. The man had mostly recovered – Gregory made a point not to cross the line with his discipline – but Cornelius was still struggling to get around.
Meeting each man’s eyes, Gregory broke the silence.
“Mr. Flotsam is dead. Killed in a botched coup attempt in Nierburg. With Susan’s passing, that leaves you three as my only senior members in the field.”
He let that hang in the air for a moment, gauging each man’s reaction. Carlyle seemed largely unbothered, but then and again he hadn’t been with the organization long enough to appreciate the full impact. Cornelius and Tucker both looked shocked, and Valentine wanted to make sure that Carlyle understood the importance.
“Eric Dross – Mr. Flotsam – was our longest tenured asset in the Central Authority. I knew him before I left, and he was slowly climbing the ranks and feeding us crucial information. I don’t know what this crap is about a coup, but I can guarantee you Eric had nothing to do with it. That means one of two things – he was found out by DeRosa and executed, or there’s another faction making a play for Nierburg.”
He met Cornelius’ eyes as he let his statement sink in. The large man didn’t flinch, though Valentine picked up the hint of fear in his eyes. Valentine let the gaze linger for a moment before continuing.
“We know the Mayhew brat had connections in Nierburg, which only complicates things further.”
This time Cornelius did flinch. Good.
“In any event, that puts us in a position I’d rather not be in. We still have some eyes inside, but nobody with meaningful access.”
Valentine pointed to the center of the table, gesturing towards a map of the region.
“We took losses after Cornelius’ attempted acquisition of Mayhew, though our second attempt was able to secure the encampment. There are three other meaningful raider encampments in the area, and none have powerful awakened. Furthermore, they are currently fragmented, bickering amongst themselves. If we can secure them, we will get valuable manpower that we can deploy to the fields to stand up our mid-term food solution. That would also give us a forward base closer to Nierburg, reducing the risk for our agents to get us information. Cornelius, Tucker, I want each of you to take a detachment of thirty soldiers and make it happen. Once you’re established, we’ll have workers escorted by another detachment.”
“Yes, sir!” the two men said in unison.
Valentine knew the situation would leave Duilleag poorly defended, but at this point the workers here had been thoroughly broken in. A token force would be plenty to keep them in line, and having forces nearby would be a major benefit. Even if they didn’t have the numbers to take Nierburg, a couple of well placed “raider” attacks would go a long way towards damaging morale and undermining the Central Authority’s promise of safety. It wouldn’t be enough to just overthrow the power structure. For change to happen the people under it needed to want it to change. Showing the rottenness festering inside their own government would be the kick many would need to want it shed.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“Sir, what are my orders?”
Carlyle looked on expectantly, hope clear in his eyes. Valentine didn’t have time for hope.
“Your orders are to stay here and wait for orders. This isn’t something for an untested whelp to do. Stay here, train, and if by some miracle I have a use for you I’ll let you know.”
His tone was harder than iron, and Carlyle took the hint.
“Then I’ll be on my way, sir.”
With that, the gaunt young man left the room, leaving Tucker and Cornelius still standing. In normal circumstances, Cornelius would have made some sort of snide comment. Fortunately, he had the sense to hold his tongue. The young man had promise, but Valentine knew that he wasn’t ready for an undertaking like this. Despite his skills, he was impulsive. His eagerness to impress could be as much of a liability as an asset, and it wasn’t a risk that he was willing to take.
After watching Carlyle depart, Valentine turned his attention back to the two men still standing in the office.
“Understand something, both of you. This is the closest we have ever been to throwing off the yoke of the Central Authority. Any major missteps at this point could cost us that opportunity entirely. I don’t want to hear about showboating. I don’t want to hear about powerful awakened taking the encampments. I don’t want to hear anything at all. You take care of this cleanly. You take care of this efficiently. You don’t let survivors escape, you put them to work. There’s no room for negotiation on this, am I clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
~~~
Gunfire broke the air like thunder, and the running man fell to the ground unmoving. Tucker holstered his pistol before walking over to his mountainous companion who stood in the middle of a pile of corpses, axe held over his right shoulder. “You got the straggler? That should be all of them then.” Cornelius’ booming voice was almost as loud as the gunshot, and Tucker simply nodded in response. Even if they had been normal awakened, these bandit camps were easy to clear out. With both he and Cornelius over Level 40, their enemies didn’t have a chance. They fell on the encampments like a bolt from the blue, Tucker picking off key targets and directing concentrated fire from their ranged troops. Cornelius and the spearmen took advantage of the distractions and fell upon the crude earthen fortifications, the large man leading the charge with his axe and monstrous strength.
It only took one blow to demolish the defenses at each of their targets, allowing the spearmen to break through and set up a defensive position. If the raiders with the military-grade arms were still present, they may have put up a better fight. Unfortunately for them, Valentine had arrived on that battlefield personally several weeks prior. Even though Tucker was no stranger to bloodshed, watching their leader tear through the enemy like a whirlwind had been shocking. His speed and power were both at the apex, but what was most clear to Tucker as he watched the man fight was his pure love of the carnage.
The first Ranger skill Tucker possessed was TELESCOPE, a simple skill that allowed him to more easily track targets based on his Perception. He was providing ranged support as Valentine engaged in close combat, and he could still remember the smile on his leader’s face as he moved from raider to raider, blades flashing as they reaped the lives of the targets before them. An involuntary shudder ran through Tucker at the memory. That wasn’t a battle, it was wholesale slaughter.
Tucker had joined Liberation because he’d been disenfranchised with the beast culling perpetrated by the Central Authority. Tracking awakened beasts in the wild, hunting them, and killing them while administrators grew fat behind their desks didn’t sit well with him. If he was going to put his life on the line for something, he wanted to be somewhere that truly appreciated power. He wanted to be led by people who knew power. Watching Gregory Valentine in his element proved that he’d thrown in with the right group. If the right path was decided by power, that spectacle confirmed it for Tucker. Against power like that, what other path could he choose?
For all his talk of higher ideals, he knew that Valentine was equally motivated by the opportunity to shed blood. In that, he wouldn’t be disappointed. All told they had killed nearly one hundred of the raiders, and found almost five times that number that the bandits had kept in slavery. They were being rounded up by the soldiers under their command, and they had already sent word to Valentine that the additional soldiers and workers weren’t necessary. The slaves they liberated would be all the workforce they needed.