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MM - Chapter 265 - BECOME A MARTIAL
🕑 Added 2025-12-12 16:22:06 +0000 UTCManaJerr
- Belehorn Tower, Carter City -
The stale, recycled air of their small, shared room was a poor substitute for a breath of freedom. Jerr lay on his thin mattress, listening to the tower’s life support systems as he tried to savor the last few minutes of his three-hour break. The space was cramped, a four-man cell shared with others who, thankfully, were more companionable than the alternative.
No one willingly sought out Mortemer for a change of scenery after the rumors spread. The AI’s logic board had clearly been wired by a madman, and requesting a room change was more likely to land you with Astra’s few delinquents, or worse, on another scrubbing detail. There was no such thing as clean enough for Mortemer. After all, merely existing as an organic meant you defiled everything you touched, so how was one to get something truly clean? Jerr shuddered at the memory of the last time.
The movement set off a familiar cocktail of emotions that churned in his gut. The clock was ticking down, and this close to going back inside, excitement was the most potent ingredient. Vaateaire was a world beyond exhilaration, a realm of impossible beauty and visceral danger. Every dive was a gift from the heavens, a chance Jerr took with a grateful smile. The source of his racing heart, however, was not just the world itself, but what it represented.
Thetadrive headsets now commanded an astronomical 260,000 credits on the IS. With the potential to turn martial skill into millions overnight, they sold easily, even at such an insane markup. Astra Infernum’s decision to provide them rent-free was an act of unbelievable generosity. Jerr had spent half his break on the forums rather than going outside; other guilds were hiking their rental fees, charging fortunes for the mere opportunity to log in.
Jerr still had contact with a few of his old friends—fools who had abandoned Astra early on. Their messages were a litany of regret, digital tears shed over the magnitude of their mistake. It might be years before they could get back inside, and by then, everyone who stayed would be millionaires.
But it was not all sunshine and roses. The most recent dive had soured the experience, introducing new, bitter flavors to the mix of emotions. Frustration clawed at him. Fear left a cold residue in his soul. Anger, hot and acidic, burned behind his eyes. As much as Jerr owed Astra Infernum, he could not stop the curses that formed in the quiet of his mind, all directed at its flawed leadership. His battlemaster, SirRounded, had repeatedly demonstrated an unprecedented talent for snatching defeat from the jaws of victory. One idiotic decision after another had resulted in the repeated deaths of their entire cohort. Their average level, once a respectable 10, had plummeted to 8.
The Divide was a meat grinder, its blades spinning faster with every shed level.
One final emotion eclipsed the others. It coiled in Jerr’s stomach, a venomous serpent dolling out heartburn in spades. It made him want to collapse into a pathetic, weeping heap every time it reared its ugly head: Envy. Right now, it was burning hotter than a star.
“Down to the last minute, I tell you!” The voice boomed from the bunk across from him, carrying all the way down the hall. “If that last salvo didn’t kill the Rab, we’d have been out just like everyone else. Seriously, you guys have to get it together today. You need to be in the Resplendence training. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Blows the chip clean out of my skull just thinking about it.”
Jerr’s bunkmate, Dex, was far too loud. It was at least the fifth time he had recounted the same story to another regular, and with each telling, the serpent’s fangs dug deeper into Jerr’s gut.
Another bunkmate from a few rooms down, a quiet kid named Leo, sighed from his place against their door frame. “That’s insane, Dex. I’m so jealous. I wish we’d made it. Our battlemaster is bad… well, not as bad as Jerr’s… I don’t think we’re gonna make it today, either. It’s going to be close if we do.”
Dex’s boisterous tone turned hard, lowering to a serious edge that was rare with the barrel-chested man. “You have to get in, Leo. No matter what it takes. If a Rab chews your legs off, you crawl. You don’t fucking give up. Resplendence, it’s something else.” He trailed off, a distant look in his eyes, his jaw hanging slightly ajar.
Leo leaned closer, voice lowered as well. “Hey… I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about it?”
Dex waved a dismissive hand. “I’m not giving specifics. I know the line. Everyone knows how hard Discipline is to control, right? But with every new movement, with every repetition… it was like these new pathways just opened up inside me. Inside all of us. It’s a whole new world, man.” Dex sniffled, brazenly wiping an asinine tear from the corner of his eye.
A low groan escaped Jerr’s throat before he could stifle it. He wanted to be there, right alongside Dex, feeling those new pathways open. Instead, he was shackled to incompetence. Resplendence was the very reason he had joined Astra Infernum. It was his chance to finally step onto the martial path, a world that had always been an unattainable dream. The two martial families in Carter City had rejected him as an infant. The six major territorial clans had done the same. Now, once again, the decisions of others were barring the gates to his future.
How dare that buffoon hold them all back when they were so close? The urge to scream, to smash his fist through the thin metal wall, was almost overwhelming. Why couldn’t his destiny be in his own hands? Why was Alaric allowing this?
Jerr had only died once the entire previous day. He had fought tooth and nail to stay alive, dodging not only the monsters but also the consequences of SirRounded’s nonstop preaching instead of doing his job. Screw a whole cohort, if Jerr had just fifteen competent people following his orders, he knew they could do it. He could see what needed to be done before it needed doing, see where people needed to be before they needed to be there. It was all so clear, so easy, and so impossible to grasp under someone like SirRounded.
As the final minutes fled, a novel feeling settled over Jerr. For the first time, he did not want to go back. He did not want to face another day of the same soul-crushing futility. Dex shot him a look brimming with pity. It did the opposite of help. Leo left as they strapped on their headsets, lay back on their bunks, and let the world dissolve.
They fell up a river of shimmering stars, materializing in West Base Town. It was dark. The pre-dawn air was cold against his skin. The usual awe at how amazing this world could feel was poison. ManaJerr joined the stream of regulars rushing toward the staging area without a word.
Maybe today will be better. I have to believe. I can’t give up yet. We still have a day. Maybe I can make him see reason. He hasn’t listened to a single piece of advice yet, but maybe… maybe he'll stop preaching long enough to actually hear someone…
Remembering the idiot’s apoplectic expression the last time someone tried, the thought died in his mind. Shit. I’m so fucking fucked.
The staging area was exactly as he remembered it: a vast, open field of packed soil, ringed by a low wooden fence that belonged to a simpler time in history, no, to another world. Everything here was like that. So close to Earth’s past, yet alien, and somehow more real than reality itself. ManaJerr often suspected they were not entering a digital realm at all, but were somehow crossing the unfathomable distances of space to a planet that was all too real.
A flashing raid invitation cut off his speculations. He accepted it instantly, ready and willing to start the day off on the right foot. SirRounded wasn’t the only battlemaster barking orders, and the assembled guilders shuffled into formation. Once all forty-five cohorts stood ready, Alaric appeared.
He rose into the air, wings of pure, golden fire erupting from his back. While the core group could only Lunge, effectively bobbing through the sky, their leader could truly fly. He hung there, all the more resplendent against the dark clouds, a figure of such immense power and majesty that ManaJerr once again felt the sting of tears. What once would have been an inspirational sight curdled into resentment.
He would never reach Alaric’s heights. He would always be held back, unable to soar as freely as the demigod towering over them. Such was the nature of both worlds, it turned out. Some people were destined to have a boot on their neck, holding them down, holding them back, no matter how hard they struggled. Seeing SirRounded’s fanatical expression, ManaJerr was now more certain than ever that he was one of them.
Alaric’s speech began, and as it always did, it seized the undivided attention of every person present. Even without the wings, it was impossible to look away from him, impossible not to be ensnared by his raw charisma. His voice possessed a quality that demanded to be heard and left one hanging on every word. His addresses were so rare, so concise, that to miss a single syllable felt like a monumental loss.
“You’re dissatisfied.”
Alaric’s gaze swept over the silent army, and for the brief, terrifying instant his piercing eyes met ManaJerr’s, it felt as though every curse, every bitter thought he had aimed at Astra and its leader, had been laid bare. ManaJerr dropped his gaze to the dirt, shame burning bright.
How can I be anything but grateful? He’s given me so many opportunities. Why am I being so impatient? Even if I don’t learn Resplendence now, we’ll all learn it eventually. The fortunes we’re making in the exchange store are setting us up for life. I need to relax and get a freaking grip.
Alaric's following words confirmed SirRounded's belief that he could, in fact, read minds. “If you think you can fail again today and learn Resplendence later, you are sorely mistaken. While true that today is not your last chance, it is your best. The next opportunity will come when Astra Infernum accepts a new wave of recruits. However, those recruits will not come from backgrounds like yours. The average level in Silverlight City is 25…”
Alaric paused for long seconds to let the implications sink in. Anyone who could reach that level this quickly and wasn't already a guilder was someone with extensive martial training or natural talent. He nodded to confirm their dawning horror. “That's right. They will be your competition, and even among them, I will choose nothing but the best. Only by overcoming them, and whatever challenge I make them face, will you earn another shot. Believe me when I say, that challenge will be much, much worse than The Divide.”
ManaJerr’s heart plummeted through the packed ground beneath his feet. He could not breathe. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears, drowning out the gasps all around him. His vision swam as Alaric, inexorably, continued. “Nothing is free in our worlds. Not food, not shelter, not love, and especially not the martial path. If you cannot prove yourselves today, if you cannot overcome this tiny hurdle, then you are unworthy. You will be left behind, resigned to a life of farming for low-level materials. You'll be safe, cared for, and valued, but you'll likely never amount to much…”
ManaJerr wanted to scream. It isn’t fair! It isn’t my fault! I deserve this chance! But a deeper, colder part of him knew it was a lie. They had all seen Alaric, battling alone against the colossal monstrosities in the Deep Divide. By himself, he was dragging the core team forward. If ManaJerr were truly powerful, if he were truly worthy, he would be doing the same. He would be soloing Rabs and carrying his cohort on his back, just as BarelyAlive was rumored to have done.
That’s what I have to do, a new resolve firmed within him. That’s the answer. I can’t give up. I won’t stop trying. I’ll make him understand, no matter what it takes. And if he doesn’t, I’ll, I’ll…
ManaJerr’s thoughts failed to form when he looked up to find Alaric staring directly at him. The guild master’s gaze seemed to pierce straight into his soul. After a moment that stretched into an eternity, those piercing eyes moved on, allowing ManaJerr to breathe again.
Alaric gave another slow, deliberate nod. “Good. I see some of you are taking this seriously now. I know why you're dissatisfied, because I've worn those same heavy chains myself. You think things are unfair. That you’re being held back by the incompetents among you.” He paused, letting the words sink in. “And you’re right.”
The admission was a lightning bolt, jolting hundreds from their despondent stupor. A murmur rippled through the ranks and was immediately squashed as their guild master continued. “Some of you could have succeeded yesterday, would have succeeded, if only you were given a proper chance. I will give you that chance now. Not as a handout, but in the way of the martial path. Listen closely, because I will never repeat this.”
The crowd was already riveted before; now, their attention had become a force of nature.
“Who told you that you could not take the chance you so desperately desire?” Alaric snarled the word. His voice grew louder, harder. “Who said that satisfaction was beyond your reach? Is that in your contracts? Is that a law written in stone somewhere? Who said Astra Infernum is a place where the weak and the incapable are allowed to lead? There is no such thing as a world where the powerful do not take what they want!” His voice boomed as he raised a clenched fist, and the fire of his wings flared with his passion, casting a brilliant, dancing light across their awestruck faces.
“No position of authority within Astra is guaranteed! If you do not like how something is being done, then take the position for yourself and do it right. But remember, being the most powerful does not make you the best for every job. If your incompetence drags others down, if you fail to utilize the talents of those weaker than yourself, then they will rise up and drag you into the pits of the Demonic Realm!”
His fervor faded, replaced by a cocky arrogance that stirred all their hearts. “Today is a special occasion. It is Friday. And every Friday within Astra Infernum, the hierarchy will be reestablished. As regulars, you may challenge any single person one tier above you in authority so long as they are within your chain of command. This rule, of course, extends to my own position.” A dangerous smile touched his lips. “If there are any battlemasters who wish to challenge me, come. There will be no repercussions for your loss, other than experiencing a death at my hands.”
Alaric waited for an absurd five seconds, as if any person there was insane enough to accept such an invitation. When no one moved, he spread his arms wide, the gesture encompassing them all.
“Well? Get on with it! Today might be the last chance you ever have to become a martial. Are you certain you want to waste it standing around when there is destiny to be crushed with your own two fists?!”
No. No, there was not a single instant to waste. ManaJerr’s feet were already moving, marching with purpose toward the dumbfuck who almost ruined his life. SirRounded was staring up at Alaric, expression one of utter disbelief, as if it were all an elaborate lie.
But it was not a lie. It was the most beautiful truth ManaJerr had ever heard. Today was indeed a special occasion. It was not only Friday—the best damn day of the week—it was the day Jerr would seize destiny with his own hands, the day he would stop being a nobody, the day he would become a martial.
Comments
JTP
Taking TGIF to a whole new level 💪
JTP
After the yesterday he gave them, he had it coming 😠
Val the mysterious Jedi
That last bit made me smile
ImmerFertig
Now that was a great motivational speech. SirRounded is going to have a bad day.
