Moyo met with Trademaster Atreus once again, the meeting taking place within the serene gardens of the syndicate's trade hub. The neatly trimmed hedges and flowing fountains seemed out of place compared to the high-stakes conversation at hand. Though Atreus wore his usual easygoing smile, Moyo could sense the undercurrent of satisfaction. The Trademaster had predicted this meeting, and Moyo's return to his doorstep irked him. The stakes this time were higher.
"These are indeed curious propositions, my lord Titan Blade," Atreus said as they strolled, his hands clasped behind his back. "I see you've taken steps to unite your world—though, as I'm sure you've learned, it's no easy task."
"Tell me, Trademaster," Moyo said, stopping to face him, "is it in the syndicate's interest to see this world united, or would you prefer to welcome invaders?"
Atreus's expression turned contemplative as he slowed. "You need to understand, my lord, that even within the syndicate, there are myriad agendas. The Archailect's powers—whether the vanguards or the syndicate—operate cohesively, yes, but their underlying motivations can vary."
"Answer the question," Moyo pressed, his voice steady but firm.
Atreus chuckled softly. "The syndicate cares not who rules a world, system, or galaxy, as long as trade flows and the rules are respected. Fairness is our only interest."
"And you?" Moyo countered, narrowing his eyes.
The Trademaster's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Every Trademaster dreams of rising in the syndicate's ranks. That ascent requires feats impressive enough to draw the attention of the higher echelons."
"So, you've thrown your bets in with me?" Moyo asked.
"With this world," Atreus corrected. "Earth—or C-102, as the system designates it—is a unique case. Your people's divisiveness creates opportunities, challenges, and most importantly, intrigue. Bastion, under your leadership, is currently the safest bet."
Atreus gestured to the garden around them, his voice thoughtful. "The Union with their Aethertech, the mana warriors of the Bharat Empire, the martial ascenders of the Jade Empire, and the brutal efficiency of the Iron Federation… It's rare to find such a volatile mix on one planet. Regardless of the outcome, Earth will produce something remarkable."
"But all that potential will crumble if we're not united," Moyo pointed out, his frustration seeping through.
Atreus nodded. "True. The system has its mercies, ruthless as they might seem. The Trial Planet, for instance."
"The trial planet is exactly why I'm here," Moyo replied. "The summit I'm hosting in Bastion will bring factions together, but I'm aware of the risks. Hosting this is an open invitation for invasion."
Atreus chuckled; his golden eyes gleaming. "You're confident you can handle an invasion, aren't you?"
Moyo shrugged. "I've yet to meet a challenge I can't face."
"Perhaps," Atreus said, "but what of your people? Can they stand against what's coming? The Jade Emperor, the Dawnkeeper, the Voice of Bharat—they're all powerful in their own right. Are your forces ready to match their might?"
Moyo frowned at the question. It was a concern he hadn't been able to shake. "That's why I'm here. Do you have anything resembling a training chamber? Something to push my ascenders further?"
Atreus stroked his chin, pretending to scroll through an invisible menu. "Hmm. I may have something suitable, but it will come at a cost. The Silver Men, masters of construct crafting, created these chambers. They aren't cheap."
"How expensive?" Moyo asked, crossing his arms.
"For the basic model, designed for advocates, the cost is 20 Aurums and 50,000 credits," Atreus replied casually.
"Show me," Moyo said without hesitation.
Atreus led Moyo deeper into the trade hub, through gilded corridors and past towering doors opened by blindfolded servants in flowing orange robes. Moyo's dark gaze lingered on their covered eyes.
"The syndicate's indentured servants are blinded during their probationary years," Atreus explained as they walked. "They learn to see with their other senses, appreciating the nuances of the artifacts they handle."
"And afterward?" Moyo asked, his voice hard.
"They are given their sight back—enhanced, in fact, by the syndicate's generosity," Atreus replied, sensing Moyo's disapproval.
Moyo said nothing, though he couldn't help but find the practice barbaric.
The room they entered was vast, its walls lined with glowing storage compartments that materialized and vanished in rapid succession. Blindfolded servants moved with precision, cataloguing items and retrieving them with ease.
Atreus called for an Aura Platform, and one of the servants produced a flat, metallic disk. The mithril surface shimmered faintly, its edges inscribed with intricate runes.
"Place your hands on it and exert your strength," Atreus instructed. "This platform, forged from twice-purified mithril, measures the force of aura or intent. It's not meant to be bent—doing so requires strength surpassing a thousand points."
Moyo raised an eyebrow. "And if someone does bend it?"
"It would be unprecedented for an advocate," Atreus replied, his tone amused.
Moyo placed his hands on the platform and focused, channeling his strength into the mithril. Slowly, the edges of the disk began to warp, the polished surface caving under the sheer force. Atreus's smile faltered as the disk groaned, nearly folding in half before Moyo finally stopped. His chest heaved slightly as he handed the warped platform back.
"Well," Atreus said, his voice tinged with disbelief as he tapped the disk, watching it straighten itself, "I suppose we'll need to upgrade the chambers. Might I interest you in the next model? With a discount, of course."
Moyo smirked. "Let's see it."
*******************
Annika stood firm, her spear crackling with residual lightning as the aberrants of the yellow zone surged forward. The creatures were relentless, their twisted forms a testament to the chaos of their origin, but she was resolute. Her spear, Stormpiercer, moved with precision and deadly intent, cutting through the horde as she directed her Storm Riders to attack. They struck as one, shattering the lines of the aberrants with a coordinated assault.
Amid the chaos, Annika's sharp eyes caught sight of a group of Decagons, Bastion's elite forces chosen after the grueling test by the Titan Blade himself. She observed their movements with a mixture of curiosity and pride. These ten ascenders, many of whom had risen unnoticed until the trial, fought with exceptional skill. Their levels, no doubt, neared the peak of Acolyte, and their presence bolstered Bastion's forces considerably.
Still, Annika couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. The tier 1 dungeons had become trivial for her and others at her level, yet the tier 2 dungeons were located too deep within the yellow zones. Clearing them would leave Bastion vulnerable—a risk she wasn't willing to take.
Her spear crackled as she thrust it into the skull of a mole-like aberrant, detonating a bolt of lightning within its body. The creature convulsed and collapsed, ichor spraying onto the ground. She flicked the gore from her weapon and glanced at her second-in-command, Hajin the Lightning Eater, who stood nearby.
Hajin, a Decagon himself, was a source of pride for Annika. His rise within her faction of Storm Riders was evidence of their growing strength. He was a dual user of aura and lightning mana, his clawed gauntlets humming with power as he tore through the aberrants. His tinted blue glasses, a relic from the pre-system era, always caught her attention. Despite the intense battles, he refused to part with them, though Annika knew he had piercing blue eyes that she secretly envied.
"Have the Riders flank the aberrants," she ordered. "Bastion's long-range cannons will handle their reinforcements. We need to finish this before their stronger kin take notice."
Hajin nodded, his voice booming as he relayed her orders to the rest of the Riders.
A sudden gust of wind blew past her, and she turned to see one of Martha's spiders, the clandestine operatives of Anansi's Hand, materialize beside her.
"Lady Annika, the Titan summons you," the spider said in a low voice.
"Where?" Annika asked, her tone sharp and direct.
"The Grand Hall. The rest of the council has been called as well," the spider replied before vanishing as abruptly as it had appeared.
"Council," Annika muttered, a chuckle escaping her lips as she discharged another bolt of lightning from her spear, annihilating a group of aberrants. The word suggested equality among its members, but everyone knew there was no true equal to the Titan.
Annika announced a retreat, watching as Bastion's cannons fired mana-charged energy deep into the yellow zones, targeting key spots to disrupt the enemy. Often, this would incite territorial infighting among the aberrants, buying Bastion precious time.
Annika passed through Bastion's gates and into the bustling city, the streets alive with activity despite the constant threats beyond its walls. She arrived at the Grand Hall, where a waiting spider silently guided her to an underground passage she had never seen before.
The passage led to a massive, glowing white metallic door guarded by two sentinels. They bowed deeply as she approached, pulling the door open to reveal a realm of pure white light. Annika hesitated for a moment before stepping through, finding herself in a strange, serene space. Around her were the other leaders of Bastion: Martha, without her spiders for once, Idris, Josh, Ayo, Boyle, and Samantha. Each wore expressions ranging from curiosity to confusion.
"Alright," Annika said, smirking as she took in the scene, "what dastardly plot does the Titan have for us this time?"
Moyo appeared atop a massive boulder, his presence as commanding as ever. "Nothing dastardly," he said with a faint smile. "Just training."
Annika's heart quickened. She fought to steady herself, but her senses betrayed her. His strength, his assuredness, and the subtle yet overwhelming pressure he exuded left her intoxicated.
"Training?" she repeated, excitement creeping into her voice.
"Indeed. At this point, I must assume the entire world sees us as a threat. I will not allow my fellow leaders to fall behind," Moyo replied, his tone resolute.
"I suppose that's a good thing?" Ayo quipped, her voice light with amusement.
Moyo's expression turned serious. "I fought the Dawnkeeper. While I could handle her easily, I'm afraid to say that, aside from perhaps Josh and Idris, none of you could stand against her."
Annika's grip tightened on her spear, her shame and determination swelling.
"You're right," Martha said. "We have to assume all factions view Bastion as a threat. The Union most of all."
"Training us to their level will take time," Samantha said hesitantly, her soft voice carrying an edge of doubt.
Moyo's smile returned, albeit briefly. "I'm aware. That's why this training room cost 50 Aurums. It's a pocket realm where time is malleable. A day here is just an hour out there."
The group exchanged astonished glances.
"Well," Josh said, "that certainly changes things."
"Exactly. And I don't intend to let anyone out until we're done," Moyo added, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Martha raised an eyebrow. "Bastion won't run itself," she pointed out.
"That's what we have Aje for," Moyo countered. As if summoned, the construct appeared, bowing gracefully.
"Should anything of importance arise, I will inform you," Aje assured them. "The Decagons have been briefed on their responsibilities and will manage Bastion in your absence."
With a clap of his hands, Moyo directed their attention to a series of large crates stacked in the corner of the room. "Aje has provided everything we'll need—supplies, food, and gear."
"That's enough for a small army," Idris remarked, nodding in approval.
Moyo's expression hardened. "Good. Because I held back during the trials with the initiates and fledglings. This time, I won't. You'll need every resource at your disposal."
The leaders exchanged grim looks.
"What's the task?" Ayo asked.
"You will attempt to cross the space between where you are and where I stand—with the intent to harm me," Moyo said, his tone flat. "Don't hold back. For your own sakes."
As one, they moved, their combined acolyte speed impressive. Yet before they reached him, a suffocating wave of bloodlust slammed into them. The primal force sent most of them crashing to the ground, struggling to breathe. Annika retched, her body trembling as her instincts screamed at her to flee. She forced herself to look up, meeting the Titan's cold, unyielding gaze.
It was like staring into the abyss itself.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the pressure vanished. Josh and Idris managed to rise shakily, their weapons ready. They attacked in unison, only for Moyo to appear between them in an instant. Two swift strikes sent them flying into the shallow water beneath their feet, unconscious.
Moyo returned to his perch atop the boulder, crossing his legs and shutting his eyes.
"Whenever you're ready," he said calmly.
****************
The first step was to acclimate them to his killing intent, the raw, oppressive force of his full presence. The aura users among them, Idris and Josh, fared slightly better than the others, managing to stand after a while and attempt weak attacks. But even their efforts were next to nothing. The mana users, especially Ayo, suffered the most, barely clinging to consciousness long enough to lift a hand, let alone strike at him.
The first day was a grueling cycle of falling unconscious and slowly regaining their senses, only to face him again. Moyo monitored their progress closely, though he maintained his focus on personal development. He used the time to sharpen his blade skills and delve deeper into the system's inner workings. Points allocation, items, mechanics—he sought to understand it all.
It was during this exploration that he fully appreciated just how much Ajax had influenced his current standing. His stats were unparalleled for an advocate, easily rivaling those of an expert, the rank that would unlock his dormant "authority." That elusive power, which had saved him twice, remained out of his reach, but Moyo was determined to prepare for its eventual emergence.
During what passed for night in the pocket realm, Samantha approached him while the others rested. She climbed up the boulder where Moyo sat cross-legged in meditation. Her bronze-colored hair and softly glowing green eyes caught the faint light, giving her an ethereal appearance.
"How can I get better?" she asked bluntly, her voice steady despite the weight of her question.
Moyo smiled. The courage it must have taken for her to ask such a direct question wasn't lost on him.
"You wanted to be a healer. There's nothing wrong with that," he began gently. "But you're not meant to be at the front lines."
Samantha winced at his words, lowering herself to sit beside him. Moyo gave her the time to process. Healers were vital, protected units who provided the relief and support that kept the front-line fighters going. Her struggles were not unusual—what she faced now was the stark realization of the gap between herself and those who thrived in direct combat.
"Martha invited me to join the council of Bastion," Samantha said after a pause, her voice soft.
"As she should. The healers are indispensable. Without you and your faction, we'd be hard-pressed to keep our ascenders alive after dungeon raids," Moyo replied, nodding. Samantha's lips twitched into a small smile.
"Perhaps. But when I see the gap between us, I wonder if I'm worthy of such a position," she admitted, her voice tinged with self-doubt. "I level up by healing and by finding new ways to improve it, but I can't shake the feeling that I should be doing more than just waiting for injuries."
"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Moyo asked with an encouraging smile.
Samantha chuckled. "That—and Ayo and Annika insisting I spend too much time alone. Also, we haven't really spoken one-on-one before."
Moyo blinked, realization dawning. "Now that you mention it, we haven't. That's on me. I've been busy, though that's no excuse."
"No, no!" Samantha said quickly, her eyes wide. "You're the first line of defense for Bastion. Please, I understand."
Moyo stroked his beard thoughtfully, then called out, "Aje."
The construct appeared instantly, bowing. "Yes, Lord Titan Blade?"
"Is there a way to evolve or upgrade Samantha's path?" he asked.
Aje paused, her virtual eyes flickering. "Yes. She would need a Path Evolution Crystal, a rare item sold in the syndicate's auction market at steep prices. Should I place a request on your behalf?"
Moyo nodded. "Do it. And Martha, what's your take on this?" he asked, his tone casual.
Samantha startled, only now noticing Martha standing quietly in the shadows, her presence unnoticed until Moyo spoke.
"I've been researching the Archailect's organizations," Martha began. "The Vanguards act as its police, the Syndicate handles trade, and the Forge Covenant oversees constructs and weapons. But we're missing two key affiliations within Bastion."
She held up two fingers. "The Arcanum, for mages like Ayo, and the Consortium of Alchemists for those like Samantha."
"Alchemists?" Samantha asked, tilting her head.
"Potion-making?" Moyo added, brow furrowed.
"They call them elixirs," Martha corrected. "A consortium-certified alchemist can create high-grade elixirs of various ranks with their blessings and resources. This could save Bastion a fortune in supply costs."
"That sounds useful," Moyo agreed. "How do we get in touch with them?"
"Unlike the Forge Covenant, the Arcanum and Consortium only deal with systems that have passed their first great trial," Aje explained.
"We're tier 3. Shouldn't we have passed it by now?" Moyo asked, frowning.
"The intervention of the Tainted and the Necromancer disrupted the natural progression," Aje replied.
"And we have less than six months before the invasion. Could that count as the trial?" Moyo pressed.
"That depends on the system," Aje said simply.
"Contact them anyway," Moyo ordered. "Let's see if they're willing to make an exception. Another weapon in Bastion's arsenal wouldn't hurt."
Aje vanished, and Martha smiled before addressing Samantha. "I assume you'll accept your spot on the council now, Lady Samantha?"
Samantha glanced at Moyo, who nodded reassuringly. "Yes. Thank you, Lady Martha."
As they departed, Moyo looked toward the area where the others rested, a faint smile on his face. Things were beginning to fall into place—for both Bastion and its people.