Chapter 847 Initiates

Ilea appeared, this time not forgetting about the very vulnerable wooden floor. Her wings spread in her rather empty living room. She looked at the layer of dust covering everything.

Yeah. I really don’t come here particularly often.

She smiled to herself. With how much she traveled, this place really didn’t have a chance of ever becoming a true home for her. With her visit to the Vulture’s Den, it was even more clear to her. Ilea didn’t have a home, a place where she could return to. Instead she had several. The den, the domain of the Meadow, maybe Ravenhall as a whole. Places where she felt safe, where she knew and cared for the people.

There were no people here, and the tigers she had forcefully befriended really just tolerated her. Or they saw her as a powerful being not to mess with.

She teleported out onto the balcony and looked over the ocean. The suns would set soon, night returning to the lands of Elos.

The view is fucking incredible. I won’t deny that. Maybe when I retire in eighteen thousand years. She smiled at the thought and glanced at a few clouds in the distance. Who am I kidding. I’ll find my match long before then. At least I hope. Would be fucking boring otherwise.

Ilea moved her wings and ascended upwards, charging them before she shot off in an arc towards the snow covered mountains south of Lys. The flight to Ravenhall was quick, a few short activations of her Fourth Tier making the trip even faster than before.

She watched the large cannons on the sturdy walls. The enchanted machines inspired and partially designed by the dwarves of the Pit had been added to all three of them. Guardians patrolled the walls alongside the Shadowguard as people arrived at the many gates outside the city. Compared to some places she had seen, no merchants sold their goods near the teleportation gates, nor were there any additional buildings set up. The guard presence in the area was higher than even at the city gates.

She landed near the large entrance, keeping her mantle up as adventurers and merchants alike took a few steps back, their eyes wide.

Don’t they see Sentinels every day?

Even the guards were lost for words, and a few of them she was sure she had seen and talked to before.

“What’s so special today?” she asked one of the men.

He gulped. “Oh. It’s you. The… I mean… your identification,” he said and pointed at her.

Right, the Godslayer again. Well changing it doesn’t make any sense with the cooldown.

“Hmm, this is gonna spread,” she murmured, nodding towards the gate.

The man stood aside, as did the few others that weren’t frozen by what they saw.

At least the people who know me won’t be that shocked, Ilea thought and spread her wings as soon as she was past the outer wall. She noted the enchantments in the walls had been extended again, the space magic defenses now quite formidable, though still nothing that would keep her out for long. They would need a Meadow for that.

“Hey, just arrived in Ravenhall. Busy?” she sent to Trian, seeing his mark below the city, and within the Headquarters of the Medic Sentinels.

She hadn’t talked to any of her team in a few days, but she assumed Claire to be incredibly busy at the moment. And with the administrative work she wouldn’t be much of a help. Trian and Kyrian on the other hand, she could maybe help out. The latter was somewhere in the northern lands, likely scouting or clearing out a dungeon that Aki had found. Or maybe he’s training Sentinels. He didn’t seem incredibly keen on fighting yet more powerful monsters to increase his levels. At this point, the risk is enormous anyway.

“I try to keep busy. Do visit. I have something to discuss,” Trian answered through the mark.

Ilea would’ve considered having breakfast in the city if she had arrived in the morning. And second dinner, she may as well have in the Headquarters.

Landing before the entrance, she teleported inside and found a few Sentinels on guard duty.

Both of them recognized her, Ilea passing by with a nod before she appeared in front of Trian’s office. She knocked once, unable to pierce the wall with her dominion.

The door opened a moment later, looking up at Ilea was a small woman with long straight brown hair, her eyes a dark shade of green. Aurelia wore well made light metal armor. Perhaps a set once belonging to the Alymie family, though it did not show an insignia. A dull white in color.

Her eyes opened wide when she saw Ilea, her mouth opening and closing.

“Good to see you,” Ilea said. “May I come in?”

Aurelia nodded quickly and stepped aside.

“How have you been?” Ilea asked, glancing at the woman before she looked to Trian, the man sitting behind his desk. His beard had grown a little longer, the man well groomed and wearing a fitting black shirt and pants, neither enchanted nor lined with metal.

The girl closed the door and leaned against it. She considered the question. “I’ve been okay,” she said finally.

Ilea smiled. “I’m glad.”

“The Godslayer,” Trian murmured, setting aside the book he had been writing in. “I don’t assume nobody saw you?”

“Plenty did. But at this point, what does it matter?” Ilea said, forming an ashen chair and sitting down. “You look older. Wiser.”

“The beard?” he asked.

“The beard,” Ilea stated.

He smiled. “I like it. Claire might want to have a word, but I suppose you’re already a legend as it is. I’m sure a lot of people already thought you a godslayer. How was it? Slaying a god.”

Aurelia sat down in the armchair next to Ilea, giving her a few glances but generally looking away, focusing on the bookshelves or the large wooden desk.

“I think they’re really just more powerful monsters. Compared to something like the Meadow, I’m not sure if I’ve killed anything that I myself would consider a god,” Ilea said. She thought about the Storm Elemental but wasn’t quite sure. Suppose it comes down to definitions. If we’re talking something like a greek or roman god, maybe the Elemental could pass. Christian? Not exactly. Then maybe the Meadow is closer, but I guess it’s hard to compete with supposed omnipotence.

“Well, there are people who think you a goddess. And if you struggle against anything, then I suppose such a being could be considered a god as well,” Trian said.

Ilea shrugged. “You know how I feel about being considered a goddess.”

“Does it matter in the end? You do what you do,” the man said.

“Fair. So how have you been? Preparations and search going well?” Ilea asked.

The man summoned himself a tea set and glanced her way.

She nodded.

“It’s been. Considerably less work. Not because of the recent revelations, but just because of Aki, and I suppose the gates,” Trian said as he poured the two cups.

Ilea summoned hers when he was done, taking a sip of the near boiling liquid. Then another. That’s some of the strongest tea I’ve ever had. She didn’t say anything.

“The Guardians have now integrated into the training process so well, there’s no major need for the other instructors. At least when it comes to combat, though even the classes can be done by any machines capable of speech. Aki is a wonderful teacher as well. I feel like he’s learning faster, now that he’s the Guardian of Iz. The others have more free time, so we focus more on interviewing new potential students, supporting Sentinels where Aki has difficulties connecting, and writing as well as testing new material to teach. It’s, a lot of freedom,” the man explained.

“Do you like it?” Ilea asked.

He took a sip of his tea, shrugged slightly. “Hmm. I like it because we’re far more efficient. In recruiting new members and training them. And with the gates coupled with the Guardian presence in near every country of the Plains, Sentinels constantly have access to level appropriate jobs and dungeons. The speed of their growth is, frightening. Though of course beyond the two and three hundreds it slows, with the Guardians having difficulties finding suitable or enough enemies to provide ample progress, though the Hunters and Veterans of course show enough initiative to go out there alone.”

“An optimized Shadow’s Hand, with teleportation gates,” Ilea murmured.

“And healers. Sometimes entire teams don’t report back for weeks or months, but then they show up in Ravenhall, their gear half destroyed and fifty levels higher. Do I like it? Yes. Because the Sentinels are growing. Both in number and strength. It will be a long time until more than a few can match even a Praetorian, but the time will come,” he said.

“Those are the thoughts of the Headmaster,” Ilea said with a smile.

He sighed. “That’s true. For me, I guess I feel a little old,” the man smiled. “Left behind by a world moving faster than I can keep up. The Academy alone provides lessons and secrets the Virilya nobility would’ve killed for to protect or steal. Guardians provide dangerous opponents for real training, far more dangerous than most monsters in their range of levels. Information is abundant, entire regions of the Plains previously marked as dangerous or rarely traveled are now well known and explored. Dungeons are cleared out with ease, expeditions of eager adventurers going in with the help of young Sentinels. Not to find treasure or clear a true monster threat, but simply to learn and advance.”

“Are you annoyed you didn’t have the same opportunities?” Ilea asked.

“No. I had ample opportunities. More than most. The path of the Sentinel is not mine. It never was and never will be. I’ve been, writing more. Poetry,” he said with a smile before he shook his head and chuckled.

“Fits with the beard,” Ilea said, taking a sip of tea.

“I won’t show them to you,” Trian said.

She raised her brows. “I am terribly offended.”

“Most certainly,” he confirmed. “Aurelia mentioned you a few times.”

Ilea looked at the blushing girl, her attention now fully focused on a singular bookshelf.

“You did?” she asked.

“I… yes. You are quite impressive, Lilith,” the girl said, steeling herself before she met Ilea’s eyes. She faltered for a split second before looking back up.

“Thank you. I just do what I enjoy,” Ilea said. “And you can call me Ilea.”

“Ilea, ma’am, of course,” Aurelia said, a smile blooming on her face.

“How is she doing?” she sent to the girl’s brother.

“Better, though while I found the aftermath, she was there. And younger. But she will find her way, I’m sure of it,” Trian said.

“She is your sister after all,” Ilea said out loud, and reached over to touch the girl’s shoulder.

“That she is,” the man sent through the connection, finishing his tea. “But before Aurelia bursts from embarrassment, there was something I wanted to discuss.”

The girl got up and nodded to her brother. “I’ll see you later, then.”

“Enjoy the spars,” he said with a smile.

“I will,” she said and walked to the door. “Bye… Ilea.”

“Until next time,” Ilea said, looking her way until the door closed behind the girl. “What did you want to discuss?” she said, turning around again.

“The Elexir. Based on your Azarinth Bluemoon Grass. We have found suitable volunteers,” he said.

Ilea raised her brows.

“Many were interested of course, but I talked those of a higher level out of it. Their own progress and evolutions should be powerful enough, let alone the experience they’ve gained fighting with their abilities. The risk may not be worth it. Of the lower leveled ones yet to receive a Class related to the Sentinels, the interest was much higher,” he said and sighed.

“Aren’t those the ones who could use it the most?” Ilea asked.

“Yes. But while I can accept resistance training as an important tool to power, potential death from Elixir ingestion is not quite as easily justified. We wanted recruits that would understand the dangers. Recruits that did not come here to reach your heights as fast as possible, or would lay down their own lives for a chance to be helpful. You have impacted a lot of people, Ilea, if you wanted to or not,” Trian said. “We need people fit to be Medic Sentinels, who can reasonably assess the risk and choose to take the elixir, despite them.”

“That all sounds reasonable. So who did you choose then?” Ilea asked.

“We have accepted a team of four after eight interviews with those interested,” Trian said. “If you have time, we can meet them now. They’ve been waiting for a while.”

Ilea stood up and stretched. “Sure. I’m here.”

____________________

Malise tapped her arm, biting her lip as she looked at the perfect drawing of another monster. She didn’t listen to the green metal Centurion standing next to the depicted creature, pointing out weaknesses, strengths, talking about speed and spells. The illustration alone was proof of the quality of education, let alone the obscure monsters talked about, most she had never even heard of.

But still, despite the machines, the gates, everything she had heard about the Medic Sentinel Corps, its faculty, the Headmaster, and Lilith herself, there just had to be a catch. It was too good to be true. There was always a catch. Always.

Glancing over to Halra, the woman was listening intently, taking notes for each of the discussed creatures. It was one of her favorite classes, next to combat training of course. Malise thought Halra looked ridiculous in her chair, her height and muscle barely fitting. The sixteen braids of brown hair bobbed ever so slightly when she looked up from her notes, her attention back on the green eyed machine.

Does she harbor no suspicions? Or was she so enamored when Aki proved to be a suitable teacher of combat arts? More capable than even her.

Malise knew it was the case. Halra was not the most complex being in the Plains. She was capable, smart, and loyal. Three virtues Malise held in high regard. Most of the recruits and Sentinels they had talked to didn’t seem to question the organization at all, many even going further, their views on the faculty and Lilith going beyond anything reasonable. In that the Healing Orders don’t much differ after all, even this one.

She supposed the communicated goals and required behavior was agreeable, though organizations this powerful normally had a lot going on behind the curtains. Curtains that would surely not be lifted for low level initiates like themselves.

The lesson finished with Malise lost in thought, a slap on her arm by Halra returned her to the now.

She remained seated, watching the Sentinels walk or teleport out, eager for their next lessons, bouts, or torturous resistance training. Many were easy going, or seemed that way at first. She didn’t have to poke long to realize what kind of people were admitted to this organization.

Former slaves. Refugees. Unfortunate souls born into families too poor to feed themselves, let alone provide for the education of their children. Each had their story, one worse than the next. Some were open to share them, others would not speak of it, but she could tell. In their eyes. The way they checked their backs, the way they fought, the way they bled. The way they pushed, themselves, and each other. All warriors who had known death, in one way or the other. Knew the weight of it, and chose to become healers. Chose to come here, in search of power. To enact revenge, to protect those as unfortunate as they had been, to heal, to hunt monsters that others would not dare to face.

It was something she could admit both the Headmaster and his faculty knew how to do. They could filter out the useless, the unambitious, the opportunistic, greedy, slimy, pieces of shit, that roamed every part of this gods forsaken world.

The question remained then, why they had been admitted.

“No word yet?” another voice asked. Veyra, the former Truth healer, or soon to be. Her long blonde hair was set within a single braid, her athletic build and average height fitting to the Sentinel clothes and armor. Though they had yet to receive their bone and steel sets.

They were alone now, in the classroom, the entire facility free for everyone to use as they saw fit, as long as nobody had scheduled the rooms. Nobody here would leave a mess or destroy any of the furniture. They knew better. Were better.

It was infuriating. Where is the catch.

Balt, the last member of her team stood beside the door, guarding them from prying ears or potential threats. His tall form and intense gaze would scare away most of the shifty adventurers and merchants they had encountered since the blood ritual in Seyna. Here, he was just another man. Another recruit, soon to be Sentinel. To be respected but just as much a rival. Someone who understood, who viewed the world in a similar way, in at least some ways.

“I assume that’s a no. She’s lost in her internal monologue again,” Veyra said, glancing over to the tall dark skinned woman.

Halra grunted, confirming but likely not seeing a need to do anything about Malise’s state.

I can hear you, Malise thought, annoyed that the woman’s remark had taken her out of her accused internal monologue. “No word yet.”

“The Headmaster said they require Lilith to be present,” Halra said. “She is an important individual.”

“And you think she would care to show up, for us?” Malise asked.

“The explanations made sense. The Sentinels have given us no reason to question their intent, nor their sincerity,” Halra said.

“Which makes me even more suspicious,” Malise said.

“Maybe you’re just not the most intelligent human being in the entirety of the Plains after all,” Veyra said, a sweet smile on her lips. “And maybe it really is just paranoia and arrogance.”

“I’d rather be paranoid and arrogant, than dead,” Malise said.

“Then you continue to do that,” Veyra said. “I’m off to join some resistance training, anyone coming?”

Balt clicked with his tongue, the group instantly on alert.

A Centurion rounded the corner and took them in with its glowing green eyes, the speech module added to its shoulder activating. “The Headmaster summons you. Lilith has arrived to see you. Please follow if you will.”

Malise gulped. She had heard a lot about the supposed woman. If even ten percent of it was true, she was about to meet a monster more powerful than the entire army of the former Baralia. She grinned ever so slightly. “Lead the way.”