Asserting Dominance

Over the course of two hours, Adantia and the council oscillated constantly between states of infuriated shouting and calm, even dignified discussions on strategy and circumstance. Primarily because the council's presence was constantly shifting; the leaders rotated in and out of participation, some growing weary, others enraged, and others constantly flooding in, arriving at the chambers for the unexpected assembly as quickly as word could reach them.

Eventually, looking like a woman who had just surrendered two hours of her life to the void, Adantia trudged her way over. By that time, the entire group had been approached at least once, including Lord Brighton and Kwang Moon. John and Moira together had been **** to fend off thirteen beautiful men and women alike that were direct about their intentions, along with thirty-two more that had the decency to be subtle about it. And that didn't include those that made legitimate diplomatic proposals without using them as a wrapper for hedonistic indulgences.

By the end of it, Moira had endured nearly as many approaches from the fairer sex as John, something that she was every bit as annoyed by as Kim was amused. John wasn't left out on that front either—near the end, he was engaged by a strikingly beautiful fellow, one he assumed was meant to appeal to Moira's more commanding side.

John was so oblivious to the man's lingering eyes that he did not realize he was the target until the effeminate fellow sidled up and attempted to sit in his lap. John had turned him down with the same polite but firm dismissal as the others—despite Vallya's pouting and the way she licked her lips as the lad walked away, muttering something about finally having someone to break in...

"Geez, you two really don't have any charisma at all, huh?" Adantia stepped up to the table with a hand on her hip. Her presence was enough to send a trio of approaching servers dashing in the other direction.

"Weren't you the one trying to win us new allies?" John countered.

"I'm trying to get us a place on the battlefield. 'Allies' is a strong word. But you two had all those idiots throwing themselves at you, and couldn't even land one? C'mon, I expected this from the Warden, but I at least thought you had a little game in you, John."

"What the f- okay, no, I'm not taking the bait." His sigh escaped in a hiss. "I've been dealing with diplomats and prostitutes for two hours. I actually think I was starting to miss your sarcasm."

"Hey, who said it was bait?" Adantia shrugged. "These idiots are throwing themselves at you, no harm in having a little fun. Beats sitting around watching me get screamed at for two hours."

"Do you really expect John to sleep with someone just because they offered?" Moira made the remark with sincerity, but John could feel her eyes lingering on him.

"Worked when I tried it." Adantia grinned. She lifted a hand and flashed them a small, metallic emblem that glistened in the dim light. "C'mon, let's get back to the convoy. They gave me a hall pass, and I'd rather not stick around this stuffy old place any longer than I have to."

John did his best to ignore the judgmental glares being pointed his way as he stood and followed after Adantia. But keeping his gaze forward didn't matter much when Kim and Moira shoved into him from both sides.

"And what exactly does she mean by that, John Newman?" Kim hissed quietly.

"What on Earth were you doing while you were out gallivanting around the West Coast, while I sat at home and worried myself gray over you?" Moira added in an equally hushed tone. John wasn't sure why they bothered—Kwang and Lord Brighton were bringing up the rear guard, but it wasn't as if they were being subtle in the way they were pressing in as they walked. They weaved through the halls of the alliance's main base with John packed between them like freshly canned tuna.

"I was... winning us new allies," John claimed defensively. The looks that he received withered a part of his soul; before the rest could rot away, he raised his voice and called out to Adantia, "You seem pretty satisfied with yourself considering how much shouting was going on back there. Did it go better than expected?"

"Define better," Adantia snorted.

"Ominous."

"It's a mixed bag. The ones smart enough know they were better off with me, even if they did completely botch their backup plans, if they had any in the first place." Adantia rolled her fresh arm, stretching it out as they went. "The dumb ones and the ones looking to come out on top try to blame me, but even if they do, they can't really turn us away. Won't be any territory left to kill each other over if they do. Not much different than the first time I showed up, just, y'know, even more **** this time. Works for us and against us."

"Because they're **** enough to need help... and yet we must now carry them through an even more dire situation," Kim inferred.

"Exactly. Why can't Newman be as sharp as the rest of you?" Adantia **** a laugh. "We can win this, that much I'm sure of. But it's not as simple as winning a few fights, and with all that the guilds around here have lost, it's going to be a lot harder to carry them over that finish line. With what's out there, and what I saw them unleash on that battlefield to get at me…"

Adantia's left arm clenched tightly over her right shoulder in a habitual sort of way, as if she still expected to find air there instead of flesh. John expected her to continue, but a tension had entered her stride. Adantia's silence lingered and her grip tightened until her own discomfort began to seep into the rest of them.

"Right, so then, what's this about a 'hall pass'? And what exactly did all that get us aside from an agreement to cooperate again?" John finally ventured.

"An idea of where we should actually go," Adantia shouted back, raising up her hand to show them the metal crest once more. "This is enchanted, gives us a way to communicate with them if something major changes. Should also keep a few of the smaller guilds from bothering us... maybe. If we catch them in a good mood."

"And where is it that we're going?" Moira probed. Neither she nor Kim eased up the pressure on John's sides, but the topic had caught their attention enough to avoid whatever lashings he'd earned himself with his remark.

"Got a few options. I'll lay them out for us in the van.”

“We’re going back to the vans?” John’s eyes darted to the emblem Adantia had flashed. “Can’t they warp us out, like the mages they sent to meet you?”

“Terrible idea,” Adantia said immediately. “Long-distance teleportation spells like that require preparation and infrastructure on both ends. Things they’d have to provide. Not only would we be trusting them to send us to the right place and not separate us all into some kind of trap, but they’d be trusting us. Whatever system they use for those warps is going to have all kinds of security measures thrown in it to keep people like the Northern Ashes from abusing it when they get a foothold in their turf - letting outsiders use it is a non-starter.”

John didn’t argue the point. Adantia was right, and he’d had his own reservations to begin with. He’d seen the sickness status ailment on the Heinrich Clan mages; if that was what happened to their own, there was no telling what might happen if they weren’t as invested in the safe arrival of the subjects.

“So yeah, we’re gonna be driving the rest of the way. Now, do you want the good news or the bad news?" Adantia didn't wait for an answer. "They're both the same news. Assuming we don't get stopped every time we cross one of their pissy little boundaries this time, we'll only have to drive for about two hours from here. But same as them being ****, that's also a bad sign for how things have been going for them."

"Have they really pressed so far?" Kwang's voice caused both women to ease off of John, if only slightly. "We will have much ground to regain for these guilds. Far more than we believed would be the case."

His emphasis didn't go unnoticed. Kim stiffened rather than shrank, standing up a little taller. That familiar sharpness entered her eyes, though now tempered with none of the affection John usually saw when it was pointed his way.

"Well, it's not as bad as it seems. But it's definitely not good," Adantia added. "That's not the front line. The front line is a little uneven right now, sort of scattered. Both sides have been making pushes into each other's lines for the past few days. Two hours from here puts us far enough back from the real fighting that we won't get uprooted by an incursion before we can stabilize things; we can set up camp there without looking over our backs the whole time. Somewhere to manage supplies away from the chaos of the battlefield."

"We'll need to decide on a specific location as soon as possible, so we can begin mapping supply lines and transport in case of medical care. I'll set our most proficient Barrier knights to work mapping out the camp perimeter and scheduling guard rotations once we have a firmer grasp on the location they'll be working with." Lord Brighton's voice was slower, half-mumbled despite his ever-booming presence as his mind poured over the logistics of war. Now it was Moira's turn to straighten up, though it was duty that drove her to rigidity, not defiance.

"With the Lady's blessing, may we not need to settle there long before we are pressing forward ourselves," Moira added solemnly. "Pray that we are wise enough to prepare for the worst. Pray that we are fortunate enough to avoid it."

"Well, if you want to start praying, you've got time. Think we're about to get stopped," Adantia called out. "Seven approaching, right side, two doors down."

The way that she called out their numbers and positioning made John worry they were about to be assaulted, but he'd scarcely gotten his inventory open before Adantia was making a dismissive wave. "Not a threat."

"How can you tell what they're planning? Do you know them?"

"I didn't say I knew what they were planning. I said they weren't a threat. Don't let them act like they are, if push comes to shove."

"What exactly does that mean?" John pressed.

Adantia never gave an answer. A few paces later, the group came into sight. Seven mages, as Adantia had predicted, all of them looking considerably more ragged than the leaders, strategists, and ensembles from the council chambers.

Six were guards, or formed some miserable approximation of a guard, marching in a half-circle around and behind their charge in armor that had clearly seen better days. Runic carvings sat unlit, metal plates too imbued to suffer mundane rust or tarnish but covered in pockmarks and missing entire sections where ruptured metal had been sheared away rather than properly repaired. Only one made it to level seventy, and just barely, while all the others fell short of even reaching sixty, save for the leader himself.

Ernold Freymann
Level 63 Stonesinger
<Former Leader of the Fillian Circle Federation>
HP: 2,605 / 2,605
Relationship: 2
Alignment: -37
Status Effects: N/A

"Pardon me, sir. I wasn't able to make it in time to meet with you officially alongside the others, but if I'm not mistaken, you're John Newman, yes?" Had he straightened, the man would've stood nearly as tall as John, but tension and a hunch to his posture left him gazing up with wide, darting eyes. His bushy moustache quivered slightly even when he fell silent, his lips trembling with a restless, nervous energy. "I've come to make you an offer regarding your assistance with the necromancers."

"I've heard enough offers today, thank you," John said dismissively. The group had slowed as he approached, and while John would've liked to press on, they couldn't collectively pick up speed before the man was shoving himself into their midst. His guard attempted to follow him in as a wedge, but Moira and Kim formed a nigh-impenetrable wall, maintaining their own group's cohesion and leaving Ernold's escorts awkwardly looking on over the fierce women's shoulders.

"I'm sure you have," Ernold continued, undeterred. "But I really must insist. The others have yet to face the kind of losses that the Fillian Circle has in this conflict. They do not understand the desperation we face. Really, Mr. Newman, I am prepared to offer you anything in my power to help us reclaim our lands. Money, titles, tribute from our rebuilt lands, the finest services the Fillian Circle can offer! Truly, if you can think of it and we are able to grant it, it would be yours, kind sir."

"We've already worked out an arrangement," John assured the man, narrowing his eyes. He took a half-step back, and Ernold followed without hesitation. At that, John squared up his posture and widened his feet. "We're going to aid your alliance in battle against the Northern Ashes. We don't need further payment or recompense."

"It's not the alliance that I'm worried about. Are you familiar with the geography of the Great Plains guilds?"

"No, I'm not. And to be honest, I don't think it-"

"The Fillian Circle was- is one of the northernmost members of the Great Plains collective," Ernold interjected swiftly, the words flying forth as if chased from his lips. "Our people were one of the most devastated. I understand you're seeking to aid the alliance, but I'm here to ask you to help us. Our lands must be restored. Our people must have their homes, their birthright!"

"I intend to eliminate the threat of the Northern Ashes. Whatever happens after that is up to you and your 'allies', however temporary they may be." John held his hand up dismissively, but the man wasn't dissuaded. He pivoted over as John tried to start walking again, placing himself directly between John and Adantia, heedless of the **** position he was placing himself in.

"At the rate of this war, even if we eventually emerge victorious, there will not be enough of us left to cobble together a ritual circle, let alone project ourselves as a **** worthy of respect!" The man's voice rose with desperation, a fidgety anger at the state that the world had left him in. "We will be picked apart by whatever low-level drudgery sees fit to tear us apart! But you can help us. No one else needs to die—you can level the playing field against these accursed necromancers!"

The way he spoke the words made John's lip twitch upward, a curdled sort of taste pooling in the corner of his mouth. "That's what I'm here to do."

"Not by fighting yourself!" the man proclaimed. "Fighting only begets more ****. And the last thing we can afford to lose is the one person with the skill to match their numbers. Not only will we shower you in mana gems, we'll do all the hard work. I know what you can do, John Newman, I purchased the proof of it myself. And these creations of yours?"

As the man's eyes moved to sweep over the women standing alongside him, their stiffened postures mirrored his own. Now it was John's turn to step in front of the man, cutting at least Sophia and Lerianna off from his sight, lips carving their way down as he bumped his own chest against Ernold's with enough **** to send the man stumbling backward.

"What of them?" John made some attempt to keep his voice diplomatic, but only succeeded in making the snarl a bit quieter.

"My people will clear every dungeon we can. We'll work around the clock – twenty-four seven if we have to – and provide you with as many Barrier monsters as you need," Ernold swore. What little distance he'd been pushed back was closed hastily. His guard shifted erratically, looking torn between their duty and the intimidating glares of the women before them and the steel in their grasps. "We can make an army to match theirs. A **** that won't be swept away in a tide of bone and rot. No one else needs to die; we can send the creatures at them until there's not a corpse left to be claimed!"

"My family," John rumbled, "are as much a person as anyone. More, perhaps, than a man who would look them in the eyes and plead for me to make a dozen more to die in his stead."

"I-I understand that you have grown attached to these... lovely things." The man didn't miss the flex of John's hand. He flinched away, seeming to think that John was about to strike him, when in reality John's finger was now hovering over the button to retrieve his sword. "A-and of course I wouldn't ask you to sacrifice them! I'm sure you have many fond memories with them. That's why we'll provide you with more! As many of the beasts as you need, to create new ones, ones you're not so fond of! I-if they're really so important to you, doesn't creating a **** to protect them seem like the best course of action, Mr. Newman?"

"I do not create mindless beasts. They think, they feel, and they understand more of this world than you." John could see the guards shimmying around, but he didn't let his gaze waver. He focused on Ernold's quivering irises until the man began to twitch and jitter in the tension of the moment. "I will not create some troop of sacrificial lambs to win you back your power and prestige. I have found a path that lets me protect the things most important to me. I suggest you do the same, rather than wasting your breath antagonizing your best chance at reclaiming your home."

John took a half-step back, and this time, Ernold did not follow. John kept his gaze on the man all the same, hoping to wither away any further attempts at persuasion before they could sprout.

"I am sorry for what you've lost. But I will not–" John cut himself off with a grunt as something small and blue flew into his chest. He nearly avoided it, even caught flat-footed, but the little sphere arced overhead and slammed into John's left side as he tried to step out of the way. A swirl of azure light engulfed him and the world began to shift. The surroundings remained the same, though his Observe now saturated them with the hues of faint mana as a Barrier engulfed him. John’s allies all disappeared from sight at the same moment a notification emerged in his periphery.

You have been forcibly brought into a Trap Barrier!
Fillian Circle Seal Barrier – Trap Barrier Passive Effects:
-Teleportation and movement spells are limited to the boundaries of the Barrier for all mages below Level 45.
-All extradimensional spaces belonging to those below level 45 not formerly belonging to the Fillian Circle are inaccessible from within the Barrier.
-Anyone marked with the Fillian Seal is considered half their level for the purposes of these effects.

"I am sorry too." Ernold took a half-step back, letting his escorts encircle him once again now that the Warden and Slayer were not obstructing them. "But I will not leave my people to **** or exile because you treat these evolved Barrier creatures as if their lives hold the same meaning as a person's does!"

John glanced at the gathered mages calmly. Two taps with his left hand brought an error message, his blade remaining within the confines of his inventory.

"You're a fool," John murmured. "We only just worked out an accord with the rest of the Great Plains alliance. They won't take kindly to this."

"What do I care?" Bitterness blended with **** indignation, a dangerous cocktail of anxieties and rage that struck a little too close to home for John. "They stripped me of my title just because we were unfortunate enough to be closer to the blighted lands than the rest of those self-righteous fools were."

"Your guild isn't endangered. It's extinct, isn't it?" John blinked at the realization. "You weren't replaced or usurped. You don't have a guild to lead anymore."

"The Fillian Circle will stand proudly once more!" Ernold's protest did nothing to change the title lingering above his head. "And the only way we can do that is with your abilities."

"You realize even if you took me yourself, you'd still..." John didn't bother finishing the plea. The man was beyond reason, and for all their nerves, the guards were prepared to follow through on the order. Perhaps the fact that their Barrier still held gave them a false sense of bravado - John couldn't say he knew the reason that Adantia hadn't already barged in herself, though he had an inkling of it.

"Don't let them act like they are?"

"You can come with us willingly... or we can restrain you until we find a way to manipulate your magic ourselves." The former guild leader straightened up, doing his best to match John's battle-ready stance as his guards edged forward, mana dancing along their fingertips and the edges of their now-drawn weapons. "I don't relish the idea of putting you in stasis, but I will do anything to preserve the dignity of what remains of my people!"

Shard of Bishamonten Activated! [100% Integration]
Rune of Resonance Activated! [100% Damage Increase]
Strength, Agility, Endurance, and Libido increased by 20!
Damage Inflicted to Enemies with Negative Alignment: +50%
Damage Received from Enemies with Negative Alignment: -50%
Overflowing Aura Activated: Lesser Heal [Allied Targets Only]
Cruciare has become Lifetime of Penance, Barrier has become Field of Judgment.

Field of Judgment Activated!
Fillian Circle Seal Barrier converted to Field of Judgment.
Field of Judgment – Trap Barrier Passive Effects:
-Control of Barrier transferred to user.
-Allies and beings with positive alignment may leave freely.
-Beings with negative alignment outside the user's party may be banished, but may not leave voluntarily.

A wave of deep crimson mana rippled over the surroundings, shifting the hue that his Observe painted the world into a slightly different shade. Three of the guards disappeared a moment later, with the fourth remaining alongside a "Banishment Failed" notification that John paid no mind to. The failure was rectified easily enough—while Ernold and his remaining protector were gasping and gawking at the shift, John stepped forward, blade flickering into reality as he kicked off the polished floor.

1,592 DMG! [Non-Lethal]
1,592 Bonus DMG! [Non-Lethal]

1,417 DMG! [Non-Lethal]

The guard fell in a heap. The flat of John's blade impacted on her chest with enough **** to partially collapse the breastplate, filling the air with the sound of screaming metal and crunching bones. The bonus damage from Wind Shear wasn't quite enough to put her down to zero health, but the blow left her able to do little more than wheeze. She frantically fumbled for the straps of her armor, trying to remove the crumpled steel so that she could once more draw breath into her shattered ribcage.

The leader fared no better. He twirled as John struck his remaining protector, fast enough to at least perceive the movement, but all that did was leave his own unarmored sternum exposed to the pommel of John's sword. The Gamer had the presence of mind to lean back as the blow struck, saving him from the spray of spittle that escaped Ernold as his bones folded under the impact. Without Gamer's Body or some equivalent, both of them were left as little more than quivering lumps, shivering and twitching on the floor as their respiratory tracts struggled valiantly against shock and fractured bones.

John's eyes flickered between the two, ensuring they had no fight left in them. Satisfied, he dismissed the Barrier. As the false guild hall faded and its genuine counterpart returned, the three guards that John had exiled were revealed to be in little better shape than their comrade. Adantia was holding two of them by their throats, ****, while a third trembled at the point of Kwang's blade.

“Master, are you alright?” John’s eyes flickered to Shishun and the others. All of them were standing at the ready, but they hardly seemed to have moved.

“You better teach some of us those Barrier techniques, and soon,” Lerianna grumbled.

“I could have gotten inside, if we had a bit longer,” Vallya said in a hiss of wounded pride and frustration. “Not that it should have been necessary.”

"It wasn’t necessary, obviously, or I’d have done it myself." Adantia scoffed. She paid no mind to the annoyance of John’s family as she tossed the two dazed guards to the floor beside their unharmed compatriot. "You done cleaning up this trash? Good. Let's get going. I don't want to have another shouting match because these idiots couldn't take no for an answer."

"Fine with me," John agreed.

"Y-you can't just... leave us to die..." Ernold managed to gasp out, each word strained against the convulsions.

"He's right. We should finish the job. No sense leaving it to chance, Master." Vallya's tone was more chilling than Ernold and his men could ever hope to be. She was already halfway to kneeling over the man, claws flexing in one hand while a bright pink flame flickered to life in the other.

"Take your friends and find a medic. Explain to whoever is running the infirmary why they're wasting their time treating fools instead of those brave enough to fight on the front lines." John's eyes were fixed on the only functioning escort left, but the pressure of his hand on Vallya's shoulder stilled her movement.

She tensed beneath his grip, slightly at first, then more firmly. Her body twitched, and for a moment, John expected her to lash out at him instead. Then the flames died out in a wisp of purplish smoke, the claws retracted, and Vallya rose away from Ernold on feet that now shuddered uncertainly with each short step.

"...Just trying to make sure he gets the point, Master." Vallya managed a steady tone, but John could hear the doubt in her own claim.

"He understands well enough. If not, I'll show him again. Adantia is right; we should leave before things get more complicated." John slipped his arm through Vallya's and tugged her along as he urged the group back into motion. The kitsune followed in an erratic fashion, desires warring in her head as she pulled against him at one moment and hurried ahead the next.

"Every life that's lost... is a life we didn't need to lose!" Ernold managed to **** out. "Real people! People you could have saved!"

John didn't break stride. He pulled Vallya more tightly to him, not sure who he was restraining now.

"Maybe I could have. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference," John called out without turning his head.

"I hope you see their faces! The faces of everyone you let die!" Ernold spat.

John's eyes fell slightly at that. Vallya truly pulled against him now—purposeful, not instinctual. John laced his fingers around hers and squeezed for all he was worth.

"Let it go." John's voice was quiet this time. He shook his head remorsefully.

“Master-”