Chapter 72 - Ocra (Reedit)

Author's Note: In the new 're-edit' of Book 2, I felt that Ocra was such a pinnacle point in the war, that it warrant further description and explanation. I also made the journey slightly more tense, in the sense that Kyle would require to clear more checkpoints due to the deteriorating relations between Raktor and Versia. This would spark a lot of nationalistic sentiments, and I hope to foreshadow future war events including the siege of ocra, and give the Versian military more leeway in terms of timing for building fortifications.

I also updated the fortifications to match how fortress were built in the 1800s and 1900s. Specifically the one being used for reference is Przemysl, where the longest siege in Europe during WWI occurred. I've read a few research books on it, and it has given me good inspiration on how to revamp chapter 70 - 120 to be a lot more realistic and gripping.

The main change of this chapter is in the second half where Kyle and Makoa leaves for Versia.

The shopping arcade ran by the Seven Snakes boomed like never before. Having overcome the initial troubles and issues with arcite ore as well as supplies, the security of the goblin trade route made it even more stable.

Haui smiled as he watched hundreds of local residents browse his expanded alchemist store, with the potions flying off the shelves at record rates. The store was focused on selling low-cost potions that could treat everyday ailments, along with diluted health and stamina potions.

This, combined with his previous store, allowed him to tackle both the lower-class market and the upper-class market, effectively solidifying his position as one of the top earners among alchemists in the South Sector. Only three other alchemists had such a reach, but none had ever achieved such widespread public acceptance as him. Next year, I’m winning that Alchem Prize for sure!

Haui, of course, was at the two stores every day, rotating his shifts as he interacted with the customers, building his public reputation as a gentle, humble alchemist. As he talked to the customers in the store, he suddenly noticed Kyle walking past the store, heading towards the office.

However, Haui also noticed another Kyle, followed by one more and yet another one, all dressed in the same way. He rubbed his eyes and checked his own pulse, wondering if he was under some sort of illusion array or Mind-Bending potion. Even the customers nearby were all wondering if it was part of a show.

The first Kyle noticed Haui’s confusion, walking up to him with a smile. “Good morning, Haui. How’s the store?”

The other Kyles behind him also echoed in synchronisation, each one of them having the same demeanour, except for the last one, who sounded a little too high-pitched.

Haui could hardly tell which one was the real Kyle. “What the hell is this? Who’s the real one?”

“None of them.” Kyle’s real voice wafted from behind, causing Haui to nearly jump in fright.

“By Yual, what is happening?” Haui’s eyes darted between the Kyle who had just ambushed him versus the group of new Kyles, trying to spot the difference. As he looked closely, he could see the slight difference in the thickness of hair, the height as well as the posture, but it still gave him an eerie feeling.

“I’m training them. Why?” Kyle replied, with the other Kyles also echoing in response.

“Kyle, I always found you a bit weird, but this fetish has gone too far. You can’t force another person to be like you just because you only adore yourself.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can prescribe a potion to fix narcissism. Perhaps a bit of ego-death would help.”

Kyle ignored Haui, walking off back towards the office with the rest of the Kyles. In the office, Keith and Damian were simply marvelling at the other doppelgangers who were currently being trained by Guang Hwa, hand-picked by Keith himself off the streets.

“You idiot, Kyle doesn’t pose like that. Be more menacing! More intimidating! And when you give a smirk, your eyes need to smile in a sinister way as well! And you should not smile very often either. And keep your body straight! Kyle doesn’t stick out his butt like that!” Guang Hwa used a wooden stick to tap the doppelganger’s body, pointing out the bad points of the posture.

“And when Kyle talks, he talks in a deep accent. Go bass! Go low! Feel the Kyle in your veins!” Guang Hwa passionately exclaimed like he was an instructor for actors. “When you walk, you got to walk like you’re the cock of the town. No one is above you; everyone is beneath you! Drill that into your mindset! Okay, now you! Number 3. Try Line 15.”

Number 3 stepped forward, clearing his throat as he approached Damian, who was already on the verge of tears. He arched his jaw forward while glaring at Damian with a fearsome expression. “Damian, I would like to ask you a simple question.”

Damian immediately burst out laughing, unable to hold back any longer. Number 3 frowned, wondering what he did wrong.

“HAHAHAHA…sorry…hah… it’s not your fault.” Damian wiped the tears of joy from his eyes. “It’s just that it’s such a good impression! It’s exactly like him when he first became leader!”

“Glad you found it funny.”

“Indeed… wait, wow! That was a perfect impression of Kyle; it sounds exactly like-“ Damian turned around to see who it was, only to come face to face with the real Kyle. He immediately straightened his back, standing at attention. Now it was Keith’s turn to laugh.

The real Kyle walked up to his table with the six doppelgangers and Guang Hwa lining up in front of him. It’s been a month since Keith recruited them, and Guang Hwa has been training them non-stop in how to act exactly like Kyle.

“Damian, have you tested them combat-wise?”

“Erm, well… they are competent. But none of them has the same strength as you.”

“It’s fine, as long as they exude the same confidence. I will be going to Versia today, so the doppelgangers will be in charge immediately. Have them position at different locations and coordinate their appearances. I don’t want the Ardent Cretins to get any ideas.” Kyle began giving out orders, preparing for his departure.

While the vipers of the Seven Snakes still had their misgivings about Kyle’s trip to Versia, it was clear that the Ardent Cretins still served as the major roadblock to their continued growth. Opportunities and rewards had to be earned outside the city instead of clashing directly with Sebastian. Kyle believed sincerely that if he had done it once by taking over the Culdao Peaks, he could do it again with Versia.

However, Versia was not a blank slate – Kyle had already a few run-ins with their people, most notably the Ilysian Punks and Harrison, the leader of the Versian industrialists who seemed to have staged a kidnapping of Reese before. Furthermore, the existence of Galactic Era tech that was working in the hands of the Ilysian Punks seemed to point to more chances for Kyle to find out the truth of this planet. The combination of all of these objectives, including profiteering from the upcoming war was a huge opportunity that Kyle could not give up.

“Guang Hwa, you will take on the role of all major meetings. Read up on every single competitor, player and noble we have in our range. I have received word from the Baron that Count Leon is aware of our goblin operation, which means trouble will come soon. I will endeavour to come back to Raktor soon.”

“Damian, work with Sasha and Niko to ensure the security of the entire supply chain. I don’t want any more hijackings or spies getting into our factory and finding out where we’re getting the iron ore from. All workers must have their backgrounds vetted. That’s all.”

Keith raised his hand, interrupting Kyle. “Wait, I think you should bring at least Sasha over.”

“No need for her, she has an important role in keeping the goblin kingdom in line. For now, I have an even better guide.”

***

The enforcer stared daggers at the pair of hooded men in front of him, part of a long queue of travellers waiting in line in a crowded checkpoint building situated next to the major river that ran through the Central Sector, dominating the landscape of Raktor as its lifeblood.

Dozens of ferries went both ways in the river, serving as a convenient transportation route for both goods and people. Many immigrants to Raktor usually came in by boat, unless they hailed from the Hwa Dynasty through Kregol.

The enforcer read through the document in front of him, confirming the details of the two travellers. “You, first one. Name?”

“Kris Greyborn.” The first traveller replied without hesitation.

“Occupation?”

“Herbalist.”

“What is your purpose in travelling to Versia?”

“I would like to find new ingredients for use in my herbal remedies.”

“Got a license from the Alchemist Guild?”

“I don’t make potions, so no.”

“What about him?”

“He’s my escort. Name’s in the document.”

“Makoa… Snake?” The enforcer squinted, finding the name slightly familiar. The second traveller shifted slightly uncomfortably. “What kind of surname is that?”

Kris Greyborn suddenly leaned forward, a small pouch of a few rakels appearing in his palm out of nowhere as he pushed it towards the enforcer, whispering: “Mr. Enforcer. I am on a tight schedule, and my boat is about to leave.”

The enforcer snatched the pouch and opened it quickly, his eyes bulging slightly at the amount within. “Of course, Mr Greyborn and Mr Snake. You two have a good journey now.”

“Thank you.” Kris grabbed the document back, leading Makoa off towards the boat. However, they were stopped once again by a security check, this time by the military. A few arctech knights were stationed, their eyes darting through the crowd of travellers from silts in their engraved helmets, while their hands gripped the handle of their repeater rifles tightly.

[Under the orders of Count Leon, all travellers to Versia will be checked for contraband and restricted technology.] An arctech radio blurted out on repeat. It was a new rule, implemented since the Ilysian Punks were exposed publicly to have smuggled weapons out to Versia. Kyle complied with the rule, both of them having their person searched.

“What’s a Yual herbalist like you doing visiting Versia? You’ll be better off visiting next year or something.” One of the knights remarked upon seeing Kyle’s documentation.

“Why, what’s wrong?” Kyle acted dumb, tilting his head slightly.

“Nothing, but best you come back in a few months or so. Don’t linger there too long. NEXT!” The knight cleared them, allowing them to enter the pier fully.

All along the river, there were multiple piers with ferries docked, the river’s water choppy and murky from the constant motion of ships to and fro. Young Yual kids hauled crates of cargo produced in Raktor onto the ships for meager wages, while families had teary goodbyes to their Versian loved ones. Some entrepreneurs and merchants stood proudly on the deck of the ship, checking their wares and looking to make their fortune in Versia or beyond.

Tensions in Raktor was running high, as distrust began to build between the Versians and the Yual citizens. Many Versians answered the call of their home country to return, hoping to avoid persecution and war.

The ferry they had bought a ticket for was nothing special – a generic arctech boat that did daily ferries to Ocra, the closest Versian city on the river downstream, before transferring to the capital of Versia. Kyle needed to scout the region prior to his meeting with the minister: going in blind to Versia would be the death of him.

There was no doubt that it was going to be an uphill battle: he was confident that there were other players in the mix who had a vested interest in making sure his factory was not established. Harrison seems to be one of the possible said parties.

Kyle and Makoa took their seats in a cramped passenger section, obviously not meant for those of the upper class. The entire enlarged cabin was filled with other travellers, some clearly being smuggled onboard the ferries or being sold as part of a human trafficking ring. Even in times of imminent war, business still went on as usual for now.

Others wore slightly thicker clothes, no doubt carrying illegal substances to smuggle out of Raktor. For all he knew, these smugglers could be affiliated with a major gang or, even worse, the Ardent Cretins. He remained visibly ignorant, acting like he did not notice anything.

“So this is the reason why you kept me alive?” Makoa spoke softly to Kyle.

“Always good to have a reliable guide.”

“I could easily run away once we’re in Versia. Or betray you.”

“You can try. The slave collar might have an issue with that.”

Makoa scowled. The same slave collar that Kyle used to bind Guang Hwa was also placed on Makoa. He had been imprisoned by Kyle ever since the collapse of the Ilysian Punks, tortured for information on Versia and its inner workings. Makoa himself was not aware of where the military of Versia got the Galactic Era technology from, but he knew whom to look for, which was why Kyle was bringing him along.

“You’re planning to profit from this war.” Makoa continued, aware of why Kyle was going to Versia even though he had not heard about the deal with the minister.

“Indeed I am. A businessman is always on the lookout for new opportunities. Did the Ilysian Punks not do the same thing?”

Makoa couldn’t retort, knowing what Kyle said was true. However, while Makoa seemed fairly compliant on the surface, deep down, he was thinking about how to get rid of Kyle permanently.

I have a few friends in Ocra, ex-military – as long as I make contact with them, I can ambush Kyle. Though they would not be happy to see me. They might even try to kill me. Makoa hardly cared if he died due to the slave collar activating or retribution from his gang – all he wanted to do was to make sure Kyle suffered.

The boatman untied the ferry from the pier, with the arctech motor roaring to life as it spun the blades, propelling the ship forward at a steady pace. Kyle glanced out of the porthole, watching the riverside pass by gradually, filled with the hustle and bustle of industrialisation.

The smokestacks of various factories soared into the sky, chugging out black fog while the various ships moved goods along the river, even within the city. A barge filled to the brim with sand sailed past them, headed for a glass factory, while an empty food barge overtook them from the other side, heading back to the grain bins on the outskirts of Raktor to pick up more grain to fuel Raktor’s food demand.

A few hours passed, with Kyle sitting in silence and slowly meditating on his upcoming foray into Versia. The ferry passed a few more rows of factories as they neared the city of Ocra, the factories’ sewage pipes spewing their waste material and chemicals into the rivers. The water began to turn a sickly shade of grey and green as they moved further downstream.

Kyle spotted a sign, demarcating the end of the County of Raktor and where the Versian border began. It took them three hours on the river to even get a glimpse of city lights as day turned to night, the hue of arctech lanterns reflecting off the clouds in the distance.

As they approached the city, Kyle noticed a few dozen men working along the side of the river, digging what seemed to be trenches and placing defensive fortifications. The entire river was gated between two towering secondary forts with cannons aimed at the river, a metal grill preventing boats from crossing immediately.

[Halt! Security check!]

It seems like tensions are high on this side of the border, too. Kyle observed as a team of Versian soldiers entered the hold of the ship, randomly inspecting crates and people for their purpose of visit. They treated the returning Versians with care and respect – it did not need to be said how they treated the Yual citizens.

A pair of soldiers soon approached them, a look of disgust apparent on their faces when they looked at Makoa. “What the hell is a Versian doing hanging out with a Yual dog?” They spoke only to Makoa, ignoring Kyle as though he was a second class citizen.

“Why? Do I not have the right to choose my friends?” Makoa snorted, rolling up his sleeves to flash what seemed to be a tattoo, a tattoo that instantly had the soldiers stiffen up and salute.

“No sir, thank you for your former service to our country. You have every right. Though I’m sure, the friendship will not last long.”

As the soldiers moved on to the next pair, Kyle continued to observe them, slightly bemused. It was as though he was watching a re-enactment of an Ancient Earth holo-film, but in person. “Versians seems to be quite on edge here. Are they always like this?” Kyle asked Makoa.

“Why don’t you try having an army two times your size assemble right at your border, we’ll see how you feel then.” Makoa shot back.

The ferry was soon cleared, passing through the gate which marked the outer defensive line of forts. Another twenty kilometre stretch of the river had to be cleared before they reached the city proper. Kyle could now clearly see even more trenches dug, the Versian military already preparing the defences of the city in the event of Count Leon’s attack. Three clear lines of trenches, earthwork fort and batteries served as defensive positions in the event the outer ring of forts fell to the enemy.

Soon, the ferry slowed down to a crawl before the boatman entered the city, mooring to a pier just outside the walls of Ocra. Permanent masonry forts with armoured gun ports or turrets exuded menace and intimidation over the new travellers who began to disembarked. Bolstered by its strategic position along the river, it served as a trade hub between the capital of Versia and Raktor, but also the first line of defence, making the military its second largest industry.

Kyle and Makoa stepped off the ferry with dozens of other travellers, merging with the upper-class passengers and entering the city through a checkpoint, once again being checked by Versian soldiers. The soldier issued an identity card to Kyle, his fake name emblazoned on it.

“Welcome to Ocra.”