“Now, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you all the way out here,” the Chitran Overseer barked, his raspy voice amplified by a magical tablet. The demon stood on a wooden platform he’d forced the Gargan prisoners to haul.
Indeed, several of the prisoners had been glancing around skittishly, eyeing the dark forms of Ash Beasts that loomed in the distance. Outside the confines of the wall, the monsters were ubiquitous, the danger ever-present.
“Are we to fight Ash Beasts, then?” someone muttered, prompting a round of hushed murmuring.
“Nonsense. They wouldn’t be that crazy. Would they?”
“What are you scared of? See those guards? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Balagra snorted. “The guards aren’t there to protect you.” He motioned with his chin to the thirty-odd Chitran who ringed the group. “They’re there to keep you from acting up.”
The Overseer allowed the whispers to continue for a moment. The grin on his face told Vir that the scarred Kothi relished every moment.
“Expecting organized duels, were you?” the Overseer thundered. “Perhaps single-elimination tournaments? As if we’d waste precious time and resources overseeing you sorry excuses. No, what we do here is far more efficient.”
“At least he’s having fun,” Balagra muttered.
Vir wondered if the Overseer added those barbs just to watch the prisoners squirm.
“You will participate in a free-for-all!” the Overseer cried. “Fists, magic—anything goes. We have temporarily reduced your prana collars’ restrictions. Your prana will be available, but limited. Use whatever means you have at your disposal. There is only one rule. You kill someone, you die too. And don’t even think of harming a guard. Those collars do more than merely suppress your prana. A single command from us, and you’ll be missing a head. Got it? Good.”
Vir wondered if that was true, or just a tactic to scare the prisoners. He also wondered how quickly the collars must activate to give the guards such a sense of confidence. There were far more prisoners than guards, and with the number of tattoos Vir spied, he was sure his fellow inmates could wreak some mayhem, even prana-restricted as they were.
The Overseer continued before any objections could be raised, “Now, we aren’t cruel here. As I said before—perform well, and you will be rewarded. Armor, weapons, shelter. And yes, even the protection of our Garrison’s walls. There is something else, however. Something all of you will benefit from. Guardian ranking.”
The murmurs hushed, and Vir furrowed his brow.
Guardian rank? It was the first he’d heard of such a thing.
“Yes, yes, I know what you’re thinking. Guardian ranks are only bestowed to Warrior Callings. Out here, everyone is a Warrior. At least, while you’re on the wall. We use it to gauge your potential, which in turn determines what roles you’ll take. Should you ever earn your freedom, that rank will persist. I don’t need to tell you how beneficial that is, do I?”
The Overseer looked around. “Thought so. Those still standing after a half hour will automatically earn the rank of Porcelain. Fight well, and you might even make Bronze or Steel. Porcelain gets you an iron weapon of your choice. Bronze gets you armor, and Steel? Well, Steel gets you better of both, and a tent to put over your head while you sleep. How’s that for a reward, eh?”
The murmurs erupted again, and this time, there was excitement in their voices.
Balagra, however, was not among them.
“They’re corrupting the bloody system,” he spat. “Guardians are so named because they protect the realm. They fight Ash Beasts, their ranks determined by the tier of beast killed. To earn a rank by fighting ourselves… Make no mistake. This is nothing short of blasphemy.”
While this Guardian system resembled the Balar Ranks of the Human Realm, Vir questioned how similar the two truly were, and whether this system suffered the same issues that plagued the Balar Scale.
Both attempted to quantify the caliber of a Warrior, though if Balagra was right, the Guardian Scale ranked Ash Beasts, and determined the level of a Warrior based on that. It sounded more robust to Vir than the number-based system the humans used, though while he wanted to know more, he couldn’t simply ask about a system everyone knew about without raising suspicion.
“I take it you’re a ranked Guardian, as well?” Vir asked.
Balagra grunted. “Steel.”
“My apologies for the obvious question, but I’m not a Warrior Calling,” Vir said, sensing his opportunity. “What tier of beast does that correspond to?”
If Balagra thought the question odd, he didn’t show it. “Tier Four. I’ve taken down an Ash Wolf on my own, though I admit it was a close thing. Still, there is a vast chasm between myself and someone of Silver rank. Let alone Gold and Seric. Those might as well be living legends.”
Vir cocked a brow. Downing an Ash Wolf was no mean feat. They were fast, vicious, and intelligent. A lethal combination that made them far more dangerous than other physically superior beasts. Especially within the Ash, where their capabilities were multiplied several-fold.
“That’s… quite impressive,” Vir said, genuinely meaning it. He wondered where he’d rank, were he allowed to go all-out. Balagra took his words another way.
“Stay close, and I’ll protect you as best I can.”
“Thanks,” Vir said, deciding not to correct the misunderstanding. Balagra would find out soon enough, anyway. “I wonder how many Gold and Seric demons there are?”
“Fewer than you’d think,” Balagra replied. “Even Cirayus the Ravagar ascended to Seric only recently before his disappearance, and that too, only on account of his extreme longevity and exemplary track record fighting Ash Beasts. Even at Gold, I know of only a handful who boast that rank. None are Cirayus’ equal in strength. He may well be the only Seric-rank Guardian in the realm.”
That came as a surprise to Vir. He’d thought there would be more at the top. Balagra’s next words clarified that, though.
“I doubt there will ever be a true Seric Ranked Guardian. Not until the Akh Nara returns, and even then… Not all of his incarnations attained that rank. After all, there are few demons who could put down a Wyrm.”
Sounds like I would qualify, then, Vir thought wryly. “The Akh Nara, huh? I wonder if he’ll ever return.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Balagra said, before turning away. Whether because he tired of the conversation or for some other reason, Vir wasn’t able to ascertain.
I guess that makes me Gold, Vir thought. While he technically had defeated a Wyrm, it was weakened, and even then, only with Ashani’s help.
Typical Cirayus, Vir thought. The demon had never once informed him about this Guardian System, nor of his own high rank in it. Cirayus cared little for designations—he’d even forgotten his own Balar Rank. No, Cirayus only cared about combat and improvement. Titles served him no purpose.
Vir looked around at his fellow demons. Truthfully, he’d hoped for more time to come up with a plan of action. His goal in infiltrating the Boundary Warriors was to lay the groundwork for an eventual overthrow of the Chitran Garrisons in preparation for a rebellion.
With the Garrisons out of commission, the Gargan Warriors in uprising, and the rebels of Samar Patag sewing chaos, the Chitran would have their hands full dealing with fires on multiple fronts.
Vir would then lead the Boundary Warriors back to Samar Patag, lay siege, and infiltrate the city alone, disposing of its leadership in what—he hoped—would be a bloodless coup.
At least, that was the plan, and Vir knew well that plans rarely ever went the way he wanted.
To that end, he needed to make an impression with the Gargans here, but the challenge was far greater than the one he faced in Samar Patag. He couldn’t simply don a mask and masquerade with impunity. The Warriors here were both more numerous and more capable than those at Samar Patag. The Garrison was much smaller, and too much moving around would invariably attract unwanted attention.