Chương 225: Chapter 222 - Reactions

It should have been a day for celebration, a day where the Realmers collectively breathed a sigh of relief. The Realm had been settled, information blackouts had started lifting, and it looked like the evacuations might finally end When the expansion settlement quest was completed, the monsters would have no incentive to move towards the center of The Realm. On regular days, it was the opposite. More powerful creatures tended to prefer inhabiting the more energy dense areas in the outer sectors.

The only real incentive for them to push to the center was either because they were too weak for their Sector or they wanted more system portals. It was the first time a Sector had taken so long to settle by the Tyrants before. And so the celebration in Ulverra was bigger than it had ever been. Most that lived there simply forgot about, or repressed the wave of dread that had passed them moments earlier.

Ignore the giant tree of gold that a few adventurers recorded, ignore the videos of the Witch Tyrant getting accosted by the Passive Tyrant. Ignore the rain of enormous fists that broke out of the tunnel that killed multiple adventurers, a drake tribe and caused ecological destruction everywhere. That was why you lived in Ulverra of course! Under the aegis of the Archmage Tyrant. Though not everyone was celebrating. A crotchety old man was in the office of an enforcer as she tried to yell at him.

"I don't care what kind of sandwich you're trying to bribe me with, Jecharim. Why do you think I'll know more than you do?" Leveled Zone Chief Enforcer Ami had a headache. After the kidnapping event with Artigan, she had continued to invite the old man to some social gatherings with other Realmers. She had been hoping that the old man would be able to find a community amongst some of the more stubborn uptight Realmers that worked for the enforcers. And now she was paying the price for trying to do a good deed.

"I know you've got them private channels with adventurers and whatsit. I just wanted to know if the rumors are true."

"Even if they were true, I wouldn't be the first person to know about it, or be able to disclose it."

"Bah! Who am I going to tell? My dead son, or my dead wife?" Ami resisted the urge to throw something at the old man.

"Why do you care so much about it?"

"I care, cause I care. Whatsit matter to you?"

"Please get the hell out of my office." Jecharim tried to take the Reuben sandwich on her desk back. Ami quickly put a hand over it before he could.

"If you took this gift back because I refused to answer your questions, that would mean it was a bribe. That would add another black mark to your record, Jecharim. You wouldn't want your license revoked, now would you?" The old man bared his teeth at her then stomped away. Ami sighed as she unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite of that delicious sandwich. Ami then turned on the private recordings that were getting regularly wiped out from the Realmnet.

Someone in the Adventurer's Guild was working overtime to scrub everything from anything that was coming from Vitalia. Though the fact that she had gotten it meant that it was already leaking out. A giant tree of gold. A small dot flying against thousands of other dots. A bigger fold in reality than had ever been seen before. Manifestations from multiple sources. Giant fists flying out from a spatial tunnel that stretched all the way from deep Sector Ten to Sector Eight.

Giant fist imprints were even found in Sector Six. The Passive Tyrant looked like she was ready to kill the Witch Tyrant. How close had Vitalia come to annihilation? For the first time in… ever, the Chief Enforcer of the Leveled Zone of Ulverra questioned the benevolent rule of the Tyrants. —— Earth… Adventurers, Tyrants, The Realm, the Trial System, that was what the privileged worried about, those that had some influence or money to have the capacity to worry about such things.

Those things were never something that Natnael worried about. Of course he'd heard of the Tyrants, of course he'd heard of the wars and the terrible power that dragonslayers wielded, but what of it? Would it change anything he did in his day to day life? Would a Tyrant come to Ethiopia and help push his oxen? Of course not. He had to do it himself under the baking sun. The idea of becoming a Destined was just a fancy dream for someone like him.

The only name he knew was their country's hero, Selam the Devout, their ninth realm. Something you hoped you could be when you first heard it as a kid, then forgot about as you realized you didn't have anything special going for you. No, the only dream Natnael had was to feed his family and hope his son would have a better life in his future. So, he and his oxen plowed the farmland. No access to the internet, no access to the realmnet and certainly no adventurers in his life.

Nothing to be in turmoil over, nothing to excite his bones other than seeing a particularly healthy batch of crop. A simple life. At least until a bright light appeared from the sky. A grand multicolored portal blasted down in front of him, he jumped backwards as the rush of energy hit him like a static wave. It gently caressed his body like a missing feeling that he never knew he was missing. A screen popped up in his view. System Portal Number 25! Do you wish for power? Immortality? Wealth?

All can be yours if you wish to take it. Today's capacity 0/3 The Trial System awaits. Natnael did not think, he simply… Dove in. And appeared in an inky dark room, sitting across the one being he knew to be the closest thing Earth had to a residing god. Natnael went to prostrate himself before the Manager caught him and helped him up.

"Please, sit and be at peace." Natnael sat on shaky legs and stared upon the entity's face. Dark skin, older than Natnael, like how his father had looked before he passed. The face of a common elder man with somewhat regal white hair and soft wrinkles around his eyes. A common, yet dignified face, wearing a suit made out of the cosmos itself. The Manager welcomed the new trialist with open arms.

"Welcome Natnael, to the Trial System." —— While the rumors of the fight between Tyrants slowly spread throughout the realmnet… Earth was occupied with other things. The new System portals. This was when new fortunes were made. Where potentially, countries could rise up as a new world power. It was also where countries could fall as well. Before the Tyrants had enforced order, any country with a system portal often had to gather allies or get crushed by competing superpowers.

While now everyone was forced to be more civilized, there was still plenty of political pressuring and knives in the dark. Two portals. Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Ethiopia and off the coast of Sweden, a small island called Gotland. One that was surrounded by multiple nations. The Table in America was in full assessment of the situation.

"Sweden has a pre-established bloc formed with other Nordic nations. They've placed a temporary moratorium on purchases of land on the island. They'll be hard to pressure diplomatically."

"They have alliances with Germany, we should be focused on Ethiopia." The Germans had more than a handful of dragonslayers due to their System portal while the nordic bloc had only one. Considering their friendliness, it wouldn't be likely that America would be able to pressure them on any front. Meanwhile, Ethiopia was going through more than a couple of problems.

While their 'famous' ninth realm had come to secure the portal and restore order, there were already dragonslayers flying about, offering to 'assist' with securing the borders. Naturally one of them was American. Not even prompted by the Table, just your standard do-gooding opportunistic American. Bates raised his hand.

"I hate to interrupt, but is this really what we should be talking about?" General Vatner looked over the photos and grunted.

"It's better to talk about things that are actually actionable. Unless you've got something to add to that?" He was talking to the dragonslayer that had just reported back and called an emergency meeting. The dragonslayer in their midst shrugged. The hidden one that Bates had to constantly remind himself even existed.

"Not much more than what I've already said." Bates couldn't help but push, he'd been in a few of these meetings lately and was getting used to the informal nature of it.

"We are sure it's not a ruse?"

"If it is, then it's a damn good one. No, it's the worst case scenario and I believe the Witch Tyrant played it out how she wanted it to. I doubt her teleportation coincidentally dropped her to the one person that could stop the Passive Tyrant. I'm pretty confident it was a real fight." The Table had intercepted plenty of conversations between Realmers and adventurers. The picture that was painted wasn't encouraging at all. It meant that their planned worst case scenario was true.

The Witch Tyrant was far, far stronger than any estimates they had on hand. Strong enough to kill every single adventurer the United States could bring forth and not break a sweat. Vatner raised an eyebrow at Bates.

"Lost your nerve?"

"No, just that it seems like we are completely at the mercy of someone who is known to be hostile to us. There has to be a bigger picture we—or I am missing." There was silence at that from the rest of the Table. Bates was referencing the period in which the previous Table and multiple high level executives from other nations had been wiped clean off the board. While it was a taboo topic, at a certain point, Bates had to bring it up to figure out what was going on.

And he had the feeling that more than just the dragonslayer knew what he was talking about. Someone sighed from the side. Margaret Archer, the ex-deputy director of the CIA leaned into the table.

"This is what we do, boy. We are the ones on the backfoot, in terms of power, information, even influence. When was the last time a president had better ratings than the Tyrants? See? That is why we focus on gathering our strength while we wait." Margaret raised a cup of coffee to her lips, she paused and smirked.

"Besides, if anything, this is a good thing. It means the cracks between them are getting wider." One could not deny that was indeed the case. All personality profiles suggested that this was indeed a real fight for the Passive Tyrant. She did not do wanton destruction at this level as a ruse. The only question was if the Witch Tyrant wanted all of them to see this. It was a web that he couldn't unravel because he understood nothing as to what was going on. Margaret, however, was ready to move on.

"Speaking of increasing our strength, have we done a profile for this Ryan Robinson? What are the chances that he'll be useful and sympathetic to us?" That name made Bates' spine stiffen. He still had phantom pains from getting stabbed in the first Trial. The assistant for the Table clicked a few images onto the main screen.

"Personality profile puts him closer to Seffara the Sapphire than anything else. Viewing history, comments on realmnet, discussions with others. Good analytical skills, though later years suggest a bit of resentment towards adventurers born with a golden spoon."

"Isn't that all of them?"

"Most of them, he did end up leaning towards Destined that started with nothing and went far." The analysis had started the moment Valee the Spider had called him 'competent', what they found had been more than a little startling. Margaret rifled through the files and clicked her tongue in disgust." Typical, a classic hero archetype. What's your hypothesis on why he's angry with the Secretary?" There were videos from across the street that showed Ryan Robinson storming at the Secretary at Raidco's Mastery.

The assistant shuffled in discomfort.

"I've outlined three possibilities in the documents outlined."

"I've read them already, just give me your best guess. Which one of these do you think it is?" The problem with the Table's assistant was that he disliked guessing, the other problem was that his guesses were normally pretty decent.

"I believe it is possible that it has something to do with his unnatural increase in realm. It's very possible that the Secretary pressured to boost him through the Trial System so that he would be forced to develop his talents rather than have any more ability to push through the Trial System. Possibly a mix of [Verified Contract] and money." Boosting incompetent adventurers through different Trials was an actual thing for the best adventurers.

It was considered win-win because competent teams would gain achievements while the adventurer who had no chance could freely increase in realm.

"Tsk. So she neuters a talent and forces him down a path that's most profitable in the end. That is indeed like her. Are we certain of his talents?"

"While we don't have access to Raidco's secure servers, we do have activity analysis from cameras situated outside as well as the realmcoin transfers from all of the others to Ryan Robinson's adventurer account. Yes, we believe he's capable of helping people break through Trial skill slot bottlenecks." That got more than a few eyebrows raised.

"Well, that sure is something. Well, if he's been soured from the Secretary, then let's see if we can make him sympathetic to proper American adventurers first. Try to get him to stay open before that viper at Raidco notices."

"That's what I'll do first." This was what most of the Table's week to week work was like. They found any opportunity to push the average level of American adventurers up and tried to see if they would be amenable to the Table's cause. Finding out that someone could help push adventurer bottlenecks was like finding an oilfield in the middle of nowhere. They just had to make sure nobody else would poach him first. It was just…

Bates couldn't help but think of them like mice scurrying around gathering cheese, hoping one day the boot wouldn't come down on their heads. —— A little later… In his apartment, ex-Captain Bates stared at the ceiling while thinking about his future. Bates could, at any time, enter The Realm and become a realmbound operative as a [Tactician]. He had thrown that idea away after joining the Table but now…

"What do you think of the Table?" The unexpected voice did not make Bates jump out of bed. Anyone that could sneak into his apartment like this could have killed him at any time. He sat up to see the hooded dragonslayer from the Table watching him. He played dumb, as he should.

"Table?" The dragonslayer scoffed.

"Then just listen. Ex-deputy Margaret and General Vatner, what do you think of them?" This was going too far, even for a test. You never used their names like this. Bates stayed silent. The dragonslayer sighed.

"Do I have to list all of their names and what we talked about? Fine…" And the dragonslayer did just that. He mentioned everything like it was nothing, like all of their security measures were pointless compared to the dragonslayer's own confidence that nothing would leak from Bates' unenchanted walls. Bates was thoroughly disillusioned by all of this.

"I believe the whole point of the Table is pointless. Especially if you're willing to talk to me like this, alone." They had rules, protocols, they didn't simply meet each other outside and talk in private. The dragonslayer shook his head.

"No, there is a point, it's just different from what it's supposed to be. I know it bothers you. It bothers me too, you know, how the Table was remade too quickly, using the same code name, using the same backchannels we always used. So. What do you think of Margaret and Vatner?" Ex-Captain Bates stared dead cold at the dragonslayer.

"You think they're compromised? I don't believe that." The hooded intruder went silent at that.

"Vatner was the one to recreate the Table. If anyone's compromised it's him, or that assistant. I don't understand how he came to be there, and I've been digging." That was something unexpected. Their analyst was suspicious? That put everything into question.

"And Margaret?"

"She's pragmatic." Bates took a moment to think.

"Meaning you think she might be willing to sell us out to someone that was guaranteed to be stronger."

"Sell us out? No, more like… she will make sure the worst scenario doesn't happen." Bates frowned.

"What do you mean?" Instead of answering him, the dragonslayer of America's Table threw a pile of papers at him, handwritten.

"Careful, if you know this, I would never enter The Realm again. I wasn't joking when I said she's able to trace you with thoughts alone." Bates held the handwritten paper for a moment. As terrifying as memetic hazards that were, the picture of the great golden tree seemed far, far greater. As if even in a picture he could feel the danger from it. The reason he was hesitating was something else.

"Why give me this then?"

"Because I need better eyes and ears on the Table. Because I know it's compromised and once you read this, so will you." And so, Bates began to read. Twenty minutes later… Bates was not horrified at the previous Table's actions. Not really, it simply, explained so, so much.

"She must hate us even more than I first thought. Why are we even alive? Unless…" He didn't voice it out loud, but the Table had been bothering Bates for a while now. The more he looked into it, the more he was disturbed at the way the group just accepted the idea that the Witch Tyrant could at any moment kill them all if she wanted to. That they formed right after they were destroyed and carried on like nothing was wrong. The dragonslayer nodded.

"The Table wasn't recreated to ensure America's interests. I think the Witch Tyrant helped recreate the Table so that she would have people on the inside. Just in case we ever did something like that again." Then the dragonslayer gave a hollow laugh.

"In a real sense, the contingency for the Witch Tyrant is that she believes the Table is under her thumb." They went silent for about thirty seconds, Bates' mind debating on whether even to ask the question at all. When the dragonslayer stood up to walk outside, Bates made up his mind.

"Margaret or Vatner, which one are you?" The dragonslayer paused at the door, then took off his hood and mask. He turned around with his real face and gave Bates a smile.

"Neither. I'm the same as you. Unsatisfied that we are all living under the mercy of the Witch Tyrant." —— Sector Ten… A creature rose from the new deepest ravine that had formed. Earthquakes were still happening from the damage to the tectonic plates underground, but the earth was having a hard time filling in the gap… as if the Passive Tyrant's attack had destroyed the concept of the ground. An unrecognizable creature rose from the ravine.

It had a torso, limbs, and a head like a human, but the proportions were all wrong. One arm was extended and bent at a bad angle, another was a dainty gloved hand. One of its legs was too short while the other was too long. The creature moaned, it—she had tried to reject the Witch Tyrant. And this was what she got. No longer a [True Shapeshifter]. For even classes could be corrupted. The creature moaned as it went limping, searching, looking. For a daughter that wasn't hers? For a cure?

For a good fight so that it could die? Not even the [Aberrant Shapeshifter] could tell you the answer. It started to drag itself towards the closest city portal. —— Sector Five… Gamielle was on the ground, sitting with her knees brought to her chest. Dried blood matted her robes from where she wiped away her face. She had tried to wrest control of the Legend from her mother and had failed terribly.

"Gamielle, are you okay?" Ryan… really wished he had more experience consoling someone.