MM - Chapter 215 - REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED HOT

Raine’s return to ZionLine was not a gentle transition; it never was. His senses were seized in an iron grip, compressed into a single point, then blasted outward as a new reality became manifest. Wind, cool and crisp, rushed through an endless sea of grass, tickling the fine hairs on his neck and wrapping his limbs in a phantom caress. A tidal wave of euphoria surged through him as his avatar’s impressive attributes became all that he was. Every muscle fiber hummed with raw power, the potential for speed and strength far beyond mortal comprehension. As he clenched fists brimming with Potency, he wondered for at least the hundred thousandth time if this was what it felt like to be a grandmaster.

The rush from the little remaining Primal Energy trapped inside his form was both balm and euphoria: pure potential, waiting to be directed. He would not waste it idly, and for now, it represented an overall boost to his Potency that was almost as priceless as its ability to enhance the speed of martial growth.

Raine spun as he always did, examining the landscape for threats. Far in the distance, a colossal wound scarred the ground—the crater left behind when the monument gateway to the Primal Realm plummeted from the sky. The gate itself was gone, as were the Dantinian assassins who had hunted him. As expected, the enigmatic entities that siphoned his Primal Energy were also absent. He was blissfully alone.

He’d seen it before while outside, but couldn’t help himself and confirmed that the Horn of the Galactic Ancient was still in his possession. Seeing it there in his inventory, safe and sound, was a tremendous relief. It represented a once-in-a-lifetime solution to one of his build’s most significant weaknesses, and he couldn’t wait to make good use of it. Out in the open, however, was not the place for such things. 

Raine activated a Return Stone, and while the teleportation sequence initiated, his gaze fell upon the mountain of system messages awaiting his attention.

[Major Content patch: World Restoration complete. Please note the following changes]

[Vaaterran realism increased by 7,000%. Vaaterran population increased by 10,000%]

[Monster intelligence and populations have received similar enhancements]

[Crafting and material utilization now closer resembles Earth Realm mechanics]

[Skill system overhaul: Skill tiers removed. Skills will no longer automatically activate, but require an understanding of the underlying movement and intent. Achieve ultimate understanding to fully unlock the power of your skills. Instanced skill training assistance is available in all capital arenas for a small fee. Passive skills have been automatically adjusted to their highest possible values]

Wait, skill overhaul and world restoration… this is two content patches in one! It took years last time… Still makes zero sense why a little Primal Energy would kick-start an expansion to begin with. Hurts my head to think about.

With an almost desperate desire not to be dragged down the rabbit hole, Raine moved on.

[To balance these challenges, Nascent Attributes which reflect Earth Realm fitness have been adjusted to a % increase (Only those with the drive to constantly improve deserve to excel in Vaateaire)]

[These changes will drastically affect the difficulty new Travelers face in adapting to ZionLine. We hope those of you from Earth will extend a helping hand to your fellows, for Vaateaire will not. It is our sincerest desire that these advanced features accelerate your journey down the martial path. May you live dangerously, seeker of adventure]

[Attunement spent on skill upgrades has been refunded, minus the difference from increased cost of class skills]

[Attunement refunded: 32,000%]

[Nascent attributes adjusted to reflect Earth fitness]

[Potency: 8 > 8% (22)]

[Finesse: 9 > 9% (25)]

[Acuity: 8 > 8% (23)]

[Physique: 9 > 9% (28)]

[Connection: 25 > ERROR! (65)]

[Congratulations: Your fitness is ranked in the top 1% of Travelers!]

Top 1%? Sure, if you count the damn error. A twenty-five percent boost to Connection is crazy. I knew it was going to be, but seeing and feeling it is an entirely different thing. Shit, I should have grilled those entities about my Connection when I had the chance. Better not forget next time. What am I thinking? I’m not nearly strong enough to get any answers from them yet; I’ll only end up a pawn in their schemes again.

The world dissolved into light and reformed around him into the shape of Silverlight City. What was once a relatively placid capital was now a bustling metropolis, its gears grinding with the unmistakable rhythm of a war engine spooling up. Vaaterrans swarmed the streets, their faces etched with expressions as varied as their attire. They laughed with neighbors, wept openly, and shouted furiously when jostled in the throng. They were, in every meaningful way, a people as real as any on Earth. 

Yet, overshadowing their innumerable differences was a heavy pall of uncertainty. The word ‘Dantinian’ was a venomous whisper on every lip. Even the lowest commoner understood that the attack on Princess Selena demanded a bloody reprisal; their ancient war was flaring anew.

The atmosphere had also shifted for Travelers. Suspicious glares and derisive sneers followed the few other Earthlings on the street, making it clear they were now a prejudiced and vulnerable minority. Raine breathed deep, infusing himself with a city that finally felt like home. No longer was Silverlight half-deserted, and teeming with semi-conscious dolts. With an excited gleam in his eyes, he melted into the background hubbub of the city he knew so well.

Or at least, he tried to. “Move it, filthy outsider!” A burly Vaaterran carrying a load of lumber attempted to shove past, aiming to ram Raine with his shoulder.

The clumsy assault was sidestepped with fluid ease. The man was caught off balance by his own momentum, tripped over his feet, and went down in a clatter of spilled timber. Instantly, every head within earshot turned, their expressions hardening with accusation. They bristled, ready for a confrontation, until their eyes fell on the culprit. A wave of recognition rippled through the onlookers. As one, they bowed their heads, refusing to meet the gaze of the Queen’s Chosen.

The man who tried to run him down scrambled backward on his ass, face pale with terror. “I-I-I’m terribly sorry, Sir Chosen, Err. Sir Noble, Sir! I was blinded by my own haste!”

Raine reached out a hand, helping the man up and dusting the grime from his shoulders. “No harm, no foul.”

Had he been any other Traveler, without his noble title and the Queen’s Favor, the city guard would have already descended to rough him up and relieve him of his coin. As it was, Raine had nothing to fear. He left the man without fuss, continuing to his destination while skimming the last few notifications. At the very top of the list was a message that could only have come from the entities who had greedily consumed his Primal Energy.

[Raine KongRu, Alaric the Traveler, let this small gift be our final thanks for your contribution in building our Eden. May you find victory in all that you pursue]

I know they said they were responsible for scrubbing my identity… but seeing them use my real name gives me the creeps.

[New skill granted: Weave Whisperer]

[Weave Whisperer: (Passive) (Beginner) Your presence interferes with the weave, unraveling the Connection manipulations of others within your Connection radius. Additionally, the range of your Connection-based manipulations is increased by 25%]

Raine stopped dead in the street, jaw falling open.

What?! Interfering with the Connection of others… I can stop them from solidifying the air, or maybe even from forming spells, and the range is already boosted by 25% at Beginner grade?! It’s not even a title or active skill, it's a freaking passive! Those guys really know how to hand out a reward! 

Raine forced himself to move instead of throwing his head back and laughing. His thoughts reeled with the implications as he read the next notification.

[Unique Quest: A Princess’s Peril completed!]

[You have passed through the trials of the Primal Realm, supporting Princess Selena Celendine on her mission to claim a relic created by the deities of old. With her safe return to Silverlight City, your quest has been completed. Due to outstanding performance, Selena returned with a relic significantly more powerful than anticipated. If allowed time to gain control of her abilities, the kingdom will prosper as never before]

[Obtained 750,000,000 Superiority]

[Celendine Dynasty Reputation: +15]

[Additional rewards will be presented upon visiting the Celendine Palace in Silverlight City]

[Level up! x3]

[+60 free attribute points]

[Potency: +18]

[Finesse: +18]

[Acuity: +18]

[Physique: +18]

[Connection: +18]

Additional rewards, huh? Sounds like something I can get behind. But first, I’ve got a much bigger reward to collect.

Raine ignored his levels for now, intending to sacrifice them to his growth weapons. But first, he planned to make the most out of the gained attributes. He soon arrived at the warehouse he’d rented. Inside, a significant portion of the materials purchased for the guild hall were gone, used as intended. Enough for several more large structures remained. Reselling them now would net a staggering profit, but the thought of doing so never materialized. Competition for farming territory was about to become bloodier than ever; arming his rivals with the buffs from a freshly-built guild hall would be the height of foolishness.

He withdrew the horn from his inventory. It was a shard of crystallized twilight, deep amethyst swirled with the dust of distant nebulae. It did not reflect light so much as devour it, like a fragment of the cosmos come to life.

[Horn of the Galactic Ancient: (Heavenly Amethyst) Upon steeping in the Primal Realm’s energies for a millennium, this shattered horn of a Nebula Shifter has evolved into a container capable of storing any form of mystical energy. Stored energy may be withdrawn or added at will (Current Storage: 0 / 1,000,000)]

As discovered during Lyale's ambush, Raine could draw upon the stored power without removing the horn from his inventory. However, charging it required physical touch. This secure warehouse was the only place in all of ZionLine he dared reveal such a treasure.

Charging it was as simple as a thought. In seconds, 2,500 of his Discipline flowed into the horn. The backlash was immediate. Raine bent at the waist, hands on his knees. A stomach-turning disorientation seized him. His eyes watered, and the telltale overproduction of saliva that preceded vomiting forced him to swallow repeatedly.

A Regeneration Stone appeared in his other hand, increasing Discipline recovery by a thousand percent. Less than a minute later, he was ready to retch again as he poured another torrent of energy into the horn. Raine was itching to leave, but his spoils would only increase with patience. He spent the next half-hour in that agonizing cycle of draining and refilling his reserves, averaging ten thousand Discipline a minute.

[(Current Storage: 300,000 / 1,000,000)]

Raine stowed the partially charged relic and teleported to the bind point nearest Shadow Springs Town. He had made CronGate wait long enough.

An unfortunate guilder

- CronGate Territory -

BigDaryl was minding his own business, as usual. Farming Carmine Hoppers for their legs was boring, repetitive, and it paid better than any job he’d ever had. CronGate’s recruitment methods had been a bit brutish, but he didn’t mind, so long as he got paid to do what he loved: killing weak mobs for easy loot. Lately, they’d been paying less per turn-in, but that was fine, too. He’d already saved up eighty silver. Just twenty more, and he could place a whole gold piece on brand new currency exchange. That was a year’s salary in a single click!

The forums had been going wild for hours, and he’d found it entirely impossible to do anything else while waiting for the servers to go live again. He’d never been so excited. Anticipation was a physical buzz in the air as he finally logged in, already needing to pee again. A hopper was right there, and he dispatched it with a practiced plunge of his spear into its neck. As the corpse vanished, replaced by a short, furry leg, he pumped a fist. This was going to be the best week of his life. And after another month of this, he’d be set for years.

BigDaryl's dreams of early retirement came to a screeching halt as a furious, unfamiliar voice shouted from behind. “Who in the fungus-fuck do you think you are?”

BigDaryl spun, spear point swiveling to face a group of men emerging from a copse of trees, their weapons brandished. They were well-armed and clad in matching armor. Above their heads floated the unmistakable symbols of NPCs. BigDaryl felt a wave of relief that they weren’t bandits, and his confusion quickly morphed back into excitement. He’d heard whispers of random quests with amazing rewards, but he’d never been lucky enough to find one.

He tilted his head hopefully. “Uhh, BigDaryl? Can I help you?”

The men advanced, their faces masks of pure anger. They made no move to lower their weapons. BigDaryl stowed his spear and raised his hands in a gesture of peace, trying again. “Accept quest… I want to help you… Is there something you need?”

A sharp, searing pain erupted in his gut. BigDaryl's face contorted as he looked down, his mind refusing to process the sight of blood gushing from a hole that was definitely not supposed to be there. His hands moved instinctively to plug the leak. The leader of the group snarled, pulling his massive sword back for a more decisive swing. “If we catch you on Mr. Olicit’s land again, we’ll make sure your next death lasts a long, long time, outsider filth.”

BigDaryl didn’t even realize he was dead until the world went black. He’d been here a few times before, back when he was still learning the ropes.

[You have been killed by a footman retainer of Olicit Rauplaht!]

[Level down! -5 free attribute points]

“No!” BigDaryl roared into the void, a cold dread washing over him as he wondered about his spear. It was his most prized possession, and the reason he always farmed alone. Greed was a terrible contagion. If he did lose the weapon, his dreams of earning that gold piece were dust. “Who the asscrap is this Olicit bastard? How was I supposed to know I was on his land? And how did he get a bunch of NPCs to kill me?”

No explanation came in the five minutes it took for the world to snap back into existence. He appeared in the graveyard of Shadow Springs Town, hopping mad. He intended to immediately press the button to message his supervisor, but his hand was stuck at his side. A titanic wave of angry shouts, frustrated curses, and raw panic hammered him from all sides. The graveyard was packed with thousands, tens of thousands, of people, all crammed so tightly that movement was impossible. The press of bodies was a living thing, stealing his autonomy and carrying him forward in a shuffling, helpless tide toward the exit.

Through the cacophony, it became clear he wasn’t the only one who had no clue what was going on. Using his nose to navigate his interface, BigDaryl frantically checked his equipment, nearly passing out with relief upon finding his spear still equipped. He managed to fire off the message to his direct superior but received no reply. Over the next half hour, he tried to fight his way to the edge of the crowd, but it was useless. At least he learned that the annoying messages he’d skipped at log-in held a few answers.

As he was perusing them, trying to make heads or tails of the word-soup, things went from bad to utterly, completely fucked.

A sound cut through the din, not of anger or confusion, but of pure, sadistic glee. It echoed from the buildings. Thousands of faces lifted as one to see a man in demonic armor hovering high above them. Golden flames gushed from his body, setting the sky ablaze. The pit of BigDaryl’s stomach dropped out as a premonition of inescapable doom seized him. He fumbled with his interface, desperately slamming his face against the transparent screen in an effort to log out. As the thirty-second timer began its agonizing crawl, he tried to Identify the figure, but the new skill system failed him.

BigDaryl didn't need it. Someone in the crowd recognized the man, and a single name, screamed in pure terror, ripped through the air: “A-Alaric!” The fear was contagious. Panic erupted.

The demonic figure descended, arms spread wide as if to embrace them all. Alaric's voice boomed with power, overwhelming the chaos below. “What a wonderful gift you’ve delivered to me, Torune.” His face then twisted into a mask of rage. “Let it be known what fate awaits those who strike at Astra Infernum!”

He plummeted from the sky like a vengeful meteor, a roaring inferno trailing in his wake. BigDaryl screamed as those horrific flames engulfed him and so, so many others, sending searing, unimaginable pain shooting through their skulls. It was a thousand times worse than the sword in his gut. BigDaryl thanked whatever gods were listening that it lasted only a few brief seconds.

Without having to raise a hand, Alaric reduced ten thousand Travelers to ash. Their remains were scattered on a cleansing wind. And of the man who dreamed of a single gold piece, all that remained was a Lustrous Blue spear, which clattered to the ground amidst a clinking symphony of loot.