DensityGodbyToraAKR
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MM - Chapter 273 - GREED AND DESPERATION
🕑 Added 2026-01-02 16:23:13 +0000 UTCThe clock struck midnight, signaling the death of one day and the birth of a new, grueling cycle. The transition passed with a shriek as Raine’s sweeping kick sent Kevinsbakon tumbling across the sand-packed arena. The lanky yet durable Defender hit the ground with a heavy thud, rolling a dozen times before splashing up against the wall. Sand clung to the sweat drenching his face, framing a near-feral snarl.
Kevinsbakon rose and rushed to the center of the arena again, where Raine waited, thumbs hooked under the straps of his belt. They had yet to make him move or use his hands, and so, their grueling debasement continued.
“At least work together, or someone’s going to end up pissing themselves before you make me move. Did I mention Morty’s drones are in each of your rooms? Maybe we should do a building-wide broadcast. I’m sure the Coalition people would get a… kick out of that.” The taunt was delivered in perfect harmony with the sole of Raine’s boot plunging into Celeste’s stomach, sending her flying.
There were no playful jabs and laughter now. Other than his occasional motivational speeches, only intense focus and the grunts of genuine exertion could be heard. Without the use of offensive skills, relying solely on the control of their bodies, they were having little luck forcing him to move, even after so many hours had passed.
It became clear after the first brutally hard kick that the man standing tall in their center was no longer a friend; he was Alaric, the guild leader of Astra Infernum, and he would keep tearing them apart long after they shit themselves if that was what it took. Despite his apparent cruelty, he struck not to kill, but to teach. Every blow was a carefully considered critique in positioning, in covering a weakness, in forcing the body to respond at a moment’s notice.
They were improving, and the longer they went without a much-needed break, the more their desperation ratcheted to new heights.
Fizgore raised his shield in time to block a knee, but the perfectly angled Force sent his barrier high enough to obstruct sight of his opponent. Raine’s knee was only a prelude. The same movement saw his torso leaning away into a sidekick that launched Fizgore a dozen meters. Instead of falling like every time before, the Defender’s boots carved furrows in the ground. The large man shot a vicious smirk around his shield, then came in for another round.
Having come in from behind, Rhino’s thrust was evaded by Raine’s leaning torso. His body blurred, extended leg retracting into a back kick that Rhino managed to block with the shaft of his spear. The Force sent him rolling ass over teakettle. He rose in a fury before sliding to a stop, “Dammit! Why are you so hard to hit?!”
Raine answered while weaving between Deloralicious and Mel’s daggers. “Why are you so slow when we have the same attributes?”
“If I knew that, I’d be able to take a bloody piss!” Both girls were sent flying before Rhino finished shouting.
“Your stance is empty,” Raine supplied, punctuating his words with another kick that held little back. Fizgore did not hold his feet this time. “Power comes from speed, and speed flows from the stance. But you can’t rely on the movement of your body to overcome your foe. You have to read their stance and adjust yours before they do the same to you. Awareness is what you lack. Only when you can move on autopilot, your focus entirely dedicated to your opponent, will you be able to land a hit.”
Pamalaiha chose that moment to appear behind him. She moved like liquid lightning, appearing in a flicker. Her dual blades lashed out a dozen times in the span of a second as she danced in a tight circle. Raine didn’t spin to follow while dodging every slash and stab with the slightest movements possible. He read her every intent as their internal forces clashed, the map of her martial stance crystal clear in his mind’s eye.
That wasn’t all. Since the beginning, he’d been gently pressing outward with Connection, not enough to hamper them, only enough to thicken the air ever so slightly. The pressure caused by their movements was becoming clearer with every exchange. In another month, he might have a solid grasp on True Connection. For now, it was still only faint impressions that backed up the information he was parsing from their intent.
As usual, to stay out of her way, the others briefly paused for Pamalaiha to try her newest combination of martial maneuvers. Raine’s boot, powered by a lower body loaded with Discipline, clipped her calf mid-jump. She spun through the air at tremendous speed, crashing into the wall with a deafening boom. For her especially, it was vital to learn how durable a ZionLine avatar was, how quickly it could recover, what blows could be soaked, and which needed to be avoided at all costs. Steeped in Earth’s martial modalities as she was, all attacks were considered lethal, and that weakness could only be beaten out of her one kick at a time.
The pride Raine felt at her rapid progress didn’t reach his expression. Had she sacrificed an arm at the end, her last hit would have landed. She’s almost ready.
Mel and Celeste exchanged a wide-eyed glance, followed by a nod. If it was that close, then they knew what to do.
Milkdud and Richtor came in together with Deloralicious and Kevinsbakon, their attempt to overwhelm him failing spectacularly in a chorus of agonized grunts. He methodically dismantled their every move with a dozen tiny hits that left more broken bones than whole ones. The fear of pain was their worst enemy. Understanding how fleeting it was with the regeneration from their outrageous attributes, was the cure.
As Mel approached her downed form, Pamalaiha didn't let out a peep, despite both her legs being shattered into uselessness. Two Healing Bursts, and she was back on her feet. A mumbled thanks was met by narrowed eyes. They shared a nod, understanding without words. They came at him together. Celeste joined them at the last second, hoping to make a difference. Before, Raine used Discipline to hit Pamalaiha harder; he didn’t need it this time, instead brutally exploiting their lack of coordination to overwhelm the trio. They didn’t give up, trying again and again.
For the next six hours, curses and tormented cries filled the arena. Desperation had well and truly settled into their bones, and bladders by the time Raine finally let them win. It was a solid punch to the face; Fizgore was more surprised than anyone that it landed. Raine’s foot came down out of position, his eyes dancing with camaraderie, “About time, brother.” There wasn’t a single victorious shout. In the span of a blink, he was alone in the arena.
The rude behavior was inconsequential. Their progress could only be considered extreme. By the end, they were all moving like Pamalaiha when she almost hit him that first time. He’d fought dirty, using Connection to blow them away, Bloodlust to make them flinch at the worst possible times, and even crammed his skull full of Discipline. It was Celeste who nearly broke through his defenses the most frequently. She was fearless and peeled apart his barriers of Connection like an industrial can opener, giving the others a chance to strike.
With a deep breath, nearly overwhelming satisfaction tingled through his chest. His heart was light with pride as he sat cross-legged, waiting for their return. The Tome of Seventy-Seven Praises to Bhima appeared in his hand. It was a new day, and the next passage had been earned many times over fighting the Zyrathak Primarchs.
“To sharpen the mind, one must dull the flesh. Distractions of the body—lust, comfort, gluttony—are chains that will bind any warrior in a prison of delusions. Sever them, lest they shape your path into one with only a single ending—stagnation.”
Raine scoffed, snapping the tome closed. The sound was sharp in the quiet arena. He’d lived the path of isolation and denial already. That loveless, sterile existence would never again be repeated. Daily, he was drawing more and more strength from the ties he was forging. Mel’s beaming smiles, Celeste’s rare, valuable laughter, and the smoldering gazes that Pamalaiha didn’t bother hiding: he would die to protect them. The fierceness of that instinct drove him further and faster than his past self could have ever imagined. No. On this point, Ziegfried's path diverged wildly from his own.
Danger was coming for Earth, and Vaateaire. Upon waking up in the past, he’d planned to circumvent those dangers by creating Astra Infernum and making it powerful enough to weather the storm. But that was no longer the case. In those three women, he found the motivation to stop the dangers entirely. He would carve out a world where they could live with their heads high, not needing to constantly watch over both shoulders.
Raine buried that desire deep. Neither he nor Astra was anywhere near ready to keep themselves safe, let alone free one world from slavery and keep the other from devolving into a war that would leave few survivors.
Brick by brick, one day at a time.
The VRVod of his fight with the Phoenix Elites played in his eyes again. He’d copied as much as he could of their stances, adding the moves to their practice. Returning to the same scene, he played it in slow motion, head stuffed with Discipline. Their leader—a self-proclaimed pseudo-grandmaster—remained an enigma. He hadn’t moved with blinding speed, nor were there any subtle shifts in his posture. He simply stood there. Yet, every attack Raine launched sailed past, missing by a wide margin. It wasn't evasion or displacement; it was a display of martial profoundness that bordered on magic.
He must have manipulated my intent so thoroughly that my senses betrayed me. While Raine had no idea how to copy such a thing, it was a hint; a hint on the path to the top, to what it meant to be a grandmaster.
The others soon returned. They looked better—relieved, their breathing steady, eyes clearer. The exhaustion from hours of brutal beatings remained, but the panic was gone.
Deloralicious dashed at Raine like she was ready to start the beatings all over again. She screeched to a halt right before him. “Why didn’t you tell us?! The forums are popping off!”
The others were right behind her, just as excited. “The lines are completely clogging Market Street!”
“How can there be that many people ready to join the guild? We didn’t even advertise!”
With all the excitement, Raine had completely forgotten about opening recruitment to the independents living in Silverlight. Checking his messages, he found over twenty from a completely overwhelmed Charles. A lifted finger gave the group pause long enough to send a quick response. “You have access to the guild’s funds, do what you think is best. Good luck!”
With that resolved, he clapped twice, chin indicating they should sit before him.
“Oh, c’mon! Give us something!” TwistedReligion begged.
Raine’s eye didn’t so much as twitch in his direction and more than one head sagged in defeat. They flopped to the ground, bodies like jelly. “If you want to know what’s happening beyond these walls, then earn it. Until you do, it's nothing more than a distraction keeping you here longer. Let it go. Now, let’s talk shop.”
“Works for me!” With palms to his lower back, Richtor arched until his spine popped. “Anything that doesn’t involve being kicked into a wall again; I’ll have you know I’ve mastered that particular skill. That’s right. Definitely never need to do it again for as long as I live.”
Deloralicious playfully smacked the back of his head. “Nope, still hard as a rock. Pretty sure you need another round or six.”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” He grumbled back, earning chuckles from the others.
With the mood thoroughly loosened, Raine began. “You should all feel powerful right now. Your attributes are through the roof. You’re almost proficient at using them, and with a couple more days of training, you will be. Even then, even if we clear the raid, what comes next is going to crush each and every one of you.” His eyes lingered on Pamalaiha, letting her know that she was no exception.
Fizgore’s frown was so deep it morphed his entire face. “There are words within your words, brother, and sounds outside your sounds… Light the lantern on this muddy path—what is this ‘next,’ a dragon or a snake in the boot?”
Raine leaned forward, eyes alight with desire for the challenge to come. He spoke almost reverently, wrapped in memories of a distant past and the mistakes he’d made. “Your class quests are what come next. Ninety-nine percent will fail their first attempt.” The confusion looking back at him was unanimous. “You have the attributes already, but as you just learned, they mean nothing if you can’t control them. People across ZionLine are grinding Superiority, doing everything to make their numbers go up, and when they reach level 50, they'll think themselves ready. They’re wrong. In the class quests, the difference between success and failure isn’t numbers; it’s precision, control, and something even more important, something I was doing my best to teach you.”
Beyond the mystery he was using to hook them, there was another truth, one he had no intention of revealing. It wasn’t that ninety-nine percent failed their class quest; it was that all those people performed so poorly that they ended up with only Common Grey class options to choose from. Because he started late last time and saw so many fail, Raine decided to delay reaching level 50. Thanks to that wise decision, he’d done well enough to earn a Lustrous Blue class, and it set him on the path to becoming the leader of a low-level farming guild.
Few Lustrous Blue, 2nd-tiers managed to advance into the 3rd-tier; one in a hundred at most. He managed it, barely, but the 4th-tier was forever sealed due to his lack of early growth. If he wanted these future powerhouses to have any chance of achieving their potential, of catching up with the forerunners from clans like the Phoenix, then he had to set them on the path of the Marvelous Gold.
Pamalaiha was leaning forward so far that it was a wonder she didn’t tip. “What is this something? Will you tell us, or make us earn it further?” It wasn’t clear which she preferred.
Raine soaked in the intensity of her gaze without shying away. “We have today and tomorrow, then the raid. It's almost certain you will reach 50 in the few days we are inside. Until the very last minute, I’ll show you what you need to do. Whether you can succeed or not will be up to your own efforts.”
