“Ranger Team 6. Round concluded successfully.”

  Green’s words got them past the gates and into Ariminum with relatively minor fuss, after the eight of them let a [Healer] poke each of them. As it turned out, they actually got back in time to get rooms at Headquarters, for those of them that needed it. Ranthia wasn’t sure if she could get access to Hunting’s villa again, so she decided to take a room for herself. As did Art and Abillo, while Juvenae and Pyra shared a room. Green, Lysia, and Tertia each had homes in the city that they were happy to return to.

  Green had her final report to Ranger Command to make—and Ranthia was more than happy to let her deal with that unpleasantness. Though for her open cheek, she got stuck with the task of returning their equipment to the quartermaster. The old man was openly unimpressed with her primary suit of armor being reduced to bloody tatters and made more than a few terse comments about that.

  Ranthia felt wrung out by the time that she finally got to return to her temporary room at Headquarters. Only to find a scroll stuck in the box next to the door. Wearily—and warily—Ranthia opened it to find an invitation written by Hexara—dated several days ago—asking her to visit while she was in town. Ranthia discarded it without even bothering to finish reading it, she’d seen enough.

  She just felt… cold when she thought of her ex. There was still sadness and bitterness there, but mostly it was just a cold discomfort that she had no idea how to put into words. In some ways it was almost worse than the misery had been—remembering Hexara made Ranthia just feel somehow… hollow, like something was missing. It wasn’t a sentiment she cared to explore or indulge in, she just wanted to move on.

  In the end, she decided to spend the rest of her time until the Convocation in Ranger Headquarters. There was no risk of encountering her ex if she never left the building! She could make all of the prayers to Xaoc she wanted in the peace of her tiny barely furnished room, she didn’t technically need to visit the temples.

  The eight of them were on their assigned bench, yet something was… strange. Very strange.

  The crowd was much smaller and more subdued and serious than usual. Though the round was much less deadly than the last, the speeches still seemed clipped and perfunctory, as if they were in a rush.

  And, of course, there was the difference that was at the forefront of the confused whispers among the Rangers: there wasn’t a single Sentinel in attendance. Their seats were there, but they were an obviously barren eyesore. It was, apparently, unprecedented.

  Yet, as always, soon it was time for the names—or memories, as Ranthia viewed the practice—of the fallen to be interred into the Indomitable Wall. The horrific monument to grief, which Ranthia had grown to both fear and hate.

  As far as Ranger Command saw it, Ranger Team 6 had concluded their round without a single casualty. Hylla’s bright future had been cut savagely short by an enemy that Ranthia had long ignored—and would never forgive—but the [Healer] hadn’t technically been a Ranger. Her name wouldn’t be added to the wall. But Ranthia promised herself that she’d never forget the passionate young woman. Along with her, Ranthia remembered her former team. Leoios, Republius, Hallus, Penticus, Mettlea, Secundia, and Pibius.

  Ranthia had suspected it from her own survey of the nameless room, but she was right—the round did much better than the last. The survival rate was higher. Even Team 13 had four members still seated on their bench. Losses had been sustained, but at the very least it wasn’t a complete wipe. But, as always, there were lives lost. One or two of the names that were called felt familiar, though Ranthia was unable to place them. Neither Statia nor Kaesios were called, at least. Her friends had succeeded once again.

  And then the graduating trainees were called. Ranthia cheered as loudly as anyone when Vert, her disciple, was called. Vert had grown into a fine woman and carried herself with confidence after the Academy. Pride filled Ranthia’s heart, a warmth that chased away the ghosts that she had been focused on. Vert had done it, she was officially a Ranger!

  Then, at last, came the time for the new Ranger Teams to be called out.

  Green was given lead of Ranger Team 4. Ranthia thought one of the men under her looked like an Adventurer she somewhat recognized but wasn’t able to place him well enough to be certain. As usual, the bulk of her team were graduates from the Academy.

  Art was on Ranger Team 7.

  Lysia was called for Ranger Team 8.

  Juvenae and Pyra somehow stayed together on Ranger Team 12.

  Abillo was called for Ranger Team 15, along with Kaesios. Ranthia made a mental note to introduce the two to each other.

  Vert got Ranger Team 16, though Ranthia didn’t recognize any of the other names called for that one.

  Tertia was never called, but that was expected. The woman had announced her plans to retire after a single round when they neared Ariminum. She had decided that it was time to face her responsibilities and find a spouse before she got too old. Ranthia was weirdly happy for her; it was kind of a relief to know that she wouldn’t endanger herself again.

  But no, the weird thing was that Ranthia wasn’t called for a team. She nervously looked about, unsure as to what the hell had happened. Had Green made a condemning report about her behavior with the ornithocheirus? She thought the woman had forgiven her…

  The other girls around her, plus Art, seemed to notice her agitation and cursed quietly when each of them independently realized the cause. Even Green seemed to be alarmed, which derailed Ranthia’s first what-if scenario—thank Xaoc.

  “And now, everyone please rise for our Emperor!” One of the Ranger Commanders called out, shortly before Ranthia could spiral too far.

  Confusion filled the room in the form of quiet mutterings as the Rangers stood and saluted, along with the handful of non-Rangers in the room.

  The doors crashed open, and the emperor strode into the room with a magnanimous smile on his face, followed by two members of the praetorian guard. A gaggle of senators and advisors and a few more members of the praetorian guard filed into the back of the room behind him.

  “Rangers, it is my pleasure to stand here before you today. You are among the finest men and women that can be found throughout Remus! I am forever grateful for your services to this Empire.”

  The man had never even glanced at the Indomitable Wall before he took his position behind the podium.

  “I am here to announce the formation of a new Ranger Team, a special one that was only recently approved by the Commanders. A proposal made by our newest member of the Ranger Commanders, Commander Patrios, which promises to make Remus safer than ever. This special team will bring the Rangers closer to our Legions than ever before and ensure that Remus is protected both within its borders and without! A grand honor for our brightest Rangers!

  “Ranger Statia! Ranger Ranthia! Ranger Cadimus! Ranger Patrios Decimius Alldrae! Ranger Barbrius Ambus Praetos! Ranger Horatius Pentius Villius! Ranger Victorius! Ranger Encimio! Please all of you, stand and come line up here before the stage.” The emperor announced with a broad smile.

  Woodenly, Ranthia stood and moved into position next to Statia. The two women shot nervous glances at one another as they settled into position. The Sentinels not making any appearance at the Convocation had certainly taken an ominous meaning.

  “I give you our first team of War Rangers! These eight will assist our Legions and will ensure the safety of our Empire! With their assistance, the shimagu threat will soon be a distant memory! Our mightiest Rangers, the pool from which our next generation of Sentinels will arise!”

  The emperor paused to allow the crowd to celebrate while he held his own arms wide.

  The crowd celebrated. Some had tightly drawn faces, like most of Ranthia’s former team. A few had open hostility on their faces. But most cheered and hollered with patriotic frenzy.

  Once he decided he had enjoyed enough accolades, the emperor had the eight of them face him.

  “Statia. Ranthia. Cadimus. Decimius. Ambus. Pentius. Victorius. Encimio. I ask this of each of you. Please do everything in your power to help me and my Legions defend my empire and bring us a glorious future!”

  Ranthia’s eyes widened in recognition. She maintained her salute but risked a glance at Statia. The woman stood stiff and proud, standing taller than she had been before.

  “Yes, my Emperor!” Statia barked, which the rest of them mimicked after. Even if Ranthia had to fake her own enthusiasm.

  Ranthia knew Statia had a vow of her own. One that made her unable to ignore any request for help, that forced her to do everything in her power to answer that request, no matter how unreasonable it might be. The godsdamned emperor had just screwed her friend over!

  The afterparty was practically a nonevent compared to most Ranger Convocations. There were less than half as many people in the room as usual, and a subdued mood had come over many of them. The War Rangers were told to eat quickly because they would be retrieved shortly by someone.

  As soon as the emperor and his entourage left the room, Green seized Ranthia’s arm and brought her to a corner near the oldest section of the Indomitable Wall.

  “Tell me truthfully and quickly. Do you want my help to get out of this mess? I will see you taken from this city and brought safely beyond that man’s grasp if you want.” Green whispered quietly, her tone and face completely serious.

  “I…” Ranthia hesitated.

  What did she want? Her mind still reeled from the new duty and expectation and much of her focus was on Statia’s situation. A lifetime ago, back before she had reunited with Hexara, she had half considered visiting the front lines as an Adventurer, to see what the war was like and see what coin she could make there. If not for her desire to spend time with her ex she might have gone long ago instead of becoming a Ranger.

  She had also learned from her more confidential courses—which in hindsight felt suspiciously like groundwork for this moment—that Remus was wholly within something Rigira had called the Dead Zone where experience rates were reduced. Rigira had made it sound worse than the courses had suggested, which made Ranthia suspect that she could actually reach her goals for her third class and next class up tiers—level 768—if she was lucky.

  …Or, rather, if she survived.

  It was a hell of a gamble, but she had never shied away from those. And she doubted that she could progress much further as things were. …Plus, she was almost certain that she was caught in some sort of nasty political tug of war. But what would happen if she fled?

  Statia was trapped. Ranthia hardly considered the woman a close friend after four years spent with barely a few words between them, but she was one of a handful of people that knew just what that bastard had done to the woman. Statia was once a friend, and Ranthia almost felt duty-bound to help the poor woman.

  Also, she wasn’t stupid. If she disappeared, there would be a hunt. Even if she managed to live as a deserter, somehow, Green was an obvious target for suspicion. Gods, even Vert or Hexara might get dangerous scrutiny. And…

  Ranthia swallowed her aversion and turned to face the wall. She forced her eyes to drift past Ranger Team 13’s names without lingering. She had to know.

  Hunting was still alive. It was a relief, and a burden. Blame might fall on him because of her, if she fled. …But if he was still out there, maybe she could join up with him, or something.

  Escape wasn’t an option, not truly. And she had at least one ally out there, somewhere. Plus Statia. …And yes, there was more than a small desire to avenge Hylla. Ranthia’s certainty and half-assed determination gave her the ability to project something not entirely unlike confidence.

  Ranthia turned back to Green, smiled, and patted her most recent mentor’s arm.

  “I’ll stay.” Ranthia announced.

  Green frowned, but finally she nodded, saying nothing else.

  Ranthia turned away to visit Vert. She wanted to celebrate with her disciple while she could. Life was getting bad, but there was still—

  Before she reached her disciple, the doors opened and a man in a gilded dress armor entered.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “War Rangers, on me!” The man snapped before he immediately turned and began to walk away.

  Ranthia cursed, so much for the good in the damned world! Yet Vert turned and saw her.

  Good luck! Ranthia communicated to the kid—woman—with a quick flash of Ranger hand sign.

  Then she turned and sprinted after the others, before her disciple could respond. There wasn’t time for goodbyes, but she had made up her mind. She intended to see it through, no matter how much dread lurked in the back of her mind.

  …Gods and goddesses, she hoped Vert had become sufficiently versed in Ranger hand signs.

  General Mucius brought them to a different building, one that seemed to be newly built in the governmental section of Ariminum (seriously, hadn’t this been a park just two years ago?). There they were provided togas—fancy—and asked to give their current Ranger armor to the servants in their assigned personal rooms and let the slaves measure them so their armor could be upgraded. Not that the ornamented blowhard bothered to clarify what that meant.

  Once she was in her room, Ranthia had to squirm as four very attractive women used strips of demarcated cloth to measure every part of her body while she stood there naked. Well, naked except for her sandals, the tattered vestiges of her old arcanite vest, and the choker that she considered getting rid of every time it crossed her mind. Not that any of it offered much modesty and Ranthia’s mind went deep into the gutter with so many lovely ladies’ hands all over her while she was so exposed.

  The moment that was done she had to make her way to the meeting room down the hall. Ranthia was the last to arrive and given the deep blush still on Statia’s face and the grins on the men, she assumed they all had suffered similar fates.

  General Mucius returned and had servants dump a pile of scrolls in front of each of them, before the slaves fled the room as quickly as they could.

  “The eight of you are among Remus’ most promising rising talent, but you are all under-leveled for what you’re about to experience. This war is unlike anything we have seen before, and we need you at your best. The eight of you are believed to have the potential to become assets that rival—even surpass—the lauded Sentinels.

  “But that won’t matter if you’re killed. We will be bringing you to the front, beyond the range of the low experience area’s effect. You will be divided among different bases that our [Analysts] believe will maximize your potential for level growth with minimal risk of premature death.

  “Your armor will be getting some upgrades. Those of you that make use of mana will be getting arcanite woven into your armor’s padding and accessories, similar to that of the Sentinels. The other two will get custom-fitted metal armor prepared by a trusted and proven ally.”

  The general paused while the eight of them reacted. The arcanite was beyond just welcome—it might help keep her alive. Ranthia suspected that dwarves—those from Khazad, unlike Rigira—were the “trusted and proven ally,” but she had the sense to keep her mouth shut. So far the War Ranger program sounded like it might be more reasonable than she had feared.

  It wasn’t safe, but there seemed to be a real investment from Remus in keeping them alive and helping them to grow. Ranthia dared to hope.

  “It is encouraged that you all remain inside this facility until it is time for your departure. The scrolls that you have been provided are inscribed and accounted for—do not make copies. These outline everything we know about the shimagu threat and the state of the unified coalition as of this time. Read them, but do not discuss them with anyone not currently in this room. Do not leave them unattended—I expect those scrolls to remain on your person until it is time for them to be collected ahead of your departure.

  “Tentatively we aim to have you all depart from Ariminum as soon as your armor is done and the fitting tests have concluded successfully. Someone will come by your room to take note of any other supplies that you consider to be essential, beyond the equipment that you brought with you. And do only list things that are actually essential.

  “That is all, War Rangers—dismissed!”

  Things moved surprisingly quickly. Ranthia’s armor was returned just two days later for an initial fitting test, then they took it back for a few minor tweaks that were done just after lunch. They even took her choker and returned it with more arcanite studded into it (she supposed they considered the patchwork vestiges of her beloved arcanite vest to not be worth dealing with). The only things Ranthia had actually requested were an (arguably) ludicrous quantity of additional knives and as many spare pairs of flexible, high-quality sandals as she could get. Her requests were noted without concern.

  They might have been ‘encouraged’ to remain in the building, but at least the food was good. There was never any rabbit stew, but Ranthia suspected that the food was picked up from some of the best restaurants in the capital. They were given two choices for each meal—and Ranthia was delighted to discover during dinner on the second day that both was a valid choice—and the food was always decadent and delightful, even if it had always cooled more than a bit before they received it. High level [Chefs] were amazing though, so even cooling a bit didn’t ruin the food.

  The four lovely women that were her assigned servants stayed in a room connected to her own, in case she wanted for anything. When Ranthia worked up the courage to lightly flirt with one of them, they quite openly informed her that any or all of them would be happy to serve her in that capacity as well during her stay. And, well, since Ranthia suspected the front lines would offer few opportunities to satisfy her libido…

  Admittedly, Ranthia normally had strong aversions to the concept of anyone taking advantage of slaves, but the women were—as best Ranthia could tell—genuinely and enthusiastically offering. So Ranthia decided that the best thing to do was to just make sure she gave them as much as she got. She treated them with respect outside of that capacity and with affection during. It was the best that she could do, and they seemed to legitimately appreciate—and enjoy—her attitude towards them.

  On the third day, Ranthia was informed that everything was ready, and the War Rangers would depart that night. The news was delivered along with a suggestion to rest while they could. It seemed like a strange time to depart, but Ranthia shrugged it off. It was as likely as anything that the powers that be were trying to avoid any fanfare from the city or avoid enemy spies. Especially since they had been kept rather isolated. Ranthia hadn’t even seen Statia or the other six strangers since their meeting back on the first day.

  Ranthia passed her day with a final read through the scrolls and a relaxing nap.

  The eight of them were gathered on the roof of the building that had been their home for the past few days. They were fully geared up and positioned on a platform surrounded by stacks of crates on specially painted markers. Even the crates were colorful, which was more than a bit weird. General Mucius was nearby in quiet conversation with a woman that Ranthia suspected should look familiar.

  Still, the moment of calm meant that Ranthia saw an opportunity for something she had been plotting ever since the emperor inflicted the ‘grand honor’ upon them. Ranthia tried to do it without drawing attention, but she carefully pulled Statia to the side of the platform and leaned in to whisper to her old friend.

  “Sorry to do this, but… Please, help me to see you again after we finish our training out there.”

  Statia gave Ranthia a look—gods and goddesses, she looked like Ranthia had just slapped her. Ranthia winced and hurried to quietly explain what she was doing.

  “I know what the emperor did. I don’t want you to kill yourself out there for no reason. I had a… harsh lesson this round on what sacrificing yourself really means. Please, just stay alive until we meet again.”

  Statia offered Ranthia a strained smile, but General Mucius called for their attention before they could continue.

  “Alright War Rangers. I’m sure you all remember Sentinel Aurora; she’ll be transporting us to the front lines.”

  Ah, yes, Ranthia definitely should have recognized the woman. The Sentinel waved at them, then stepped into a specific place and started to visibly concentrate. Light spread from her feet, across the rooftop. And it was clear that there was attuned arcanite somewhere—probably a lot of it—fueling the process.

  “While she prepares her [Starship], let me give you all some final information. The current plan is to have each of you remain at the base we drop you off at for about a year. The base commanders should know to expect you, but you know how military intel can be.” The man paused to allow them to laugh at his joke—not that anyone did—before he continued. “We’ll also be dropping some cargo off with you. Some of it for you, some for the base; they’ll sort it out on site. We’ll need to move quickly, since [Starship] only works at night.

  “Ideally, we will meet again after about a year passes. But, no matter what, you War Rangers will be on a two-year rotation. You’ll stay on the front lines a year, then you’ll fall back while we give the next unit of War Rangers a year’s experience. Then you’ll join them on the true frontlines as we crush the shimagu once and for all! All of Remus looks forward to seeing what each of you can become with your full potential unleashed.”

  While he spoke, the light that spread from Sentinel Aurora had begun to build upward into strings of light, like an artist’s rendition of the constellations. …Which Ranthia supposed made sense; Sentinel Aurora was already a level 526 Celestial [Mage], a level 480 Gale [Mage], and a level 103 Gravity [Mage]. As the light got taller, they and the cargo were lifted along with it.

  Soon enough, the ten of them stood atop the constellation of a large sailing ship, with the cargo stowed in different zones beneath the deck. The ship rose into the sky, beneath the gaze of the gorgeous, mystical moons.

  The ‘starship’ was far faster than Ranthia expected. They rested on the deck, somewhat bored while they flew. And abruptly, almost in perfect unison, all eight of them sat upright.

  Something had changed. Something wondrous.

  Ranthia had no words for it. It was like the very vitality of Pallos had spiked out of nowhere. Everything felt… better. Even she did! She had never thought she felt poorly before that moment, but the difference was incredible. Obscene even.

  It was like she took her first true breath of fresh air after living next to a tanner’s shop her entire life. It was a damned weak comparison, but the best she could come up with. The truth was beyond her ability to describe with the words she had in her possession at the moment.

  Sentinel Aurora laughed.

  “Welcome to the rest of the world, we just left the Low Experience Zone.” She called out.

  Suddenly Ranthia was on the side of the dwarven name for it. The Dead Zone. It was one thing to hear about it, but to experience it?

  She wasn’t sure if she would ever be willing to set foot in Remus again. Gods and goddesses, why did Xaoc put her into such a miserable blight on the true glory of Pallos?!

  Ultimately, it took a bit more than half the night for them to arrive on the site of Remus’ current war. The terrain beneath them had turned into a sort of rocky, flat wasteland. Sure, there were different scattered stony mountains and other formations, some of them weirdly flat, but nothing was mountainous. And there were huge regions that were just… flat.

  The novelty of the scenery wore off before their first stop. Ranthia strongly suspected that it would be something of a psychological torture to be surrounded by that sort of terrain for too many years. Was all of Pallos so barren outside of Remus? That couldn’t be right, could it? How could Pallos become so much more… alive, more real, just for something like this?

  “Ah, damn, the horned bastards still have their junk all over the landing site. Hey, Statia, this is your stop, and I was told… oh right. ‘Can you help me get yourself and the eight crates I’ll drop with you down safely?’” Sentinel Aurora recited.

  A change came over Statia and she saluted.

  “Wait until my signal after I jump, then release them!” Statia called out.

  Before Ranthia could say anything, her friend leapt right over the side.

  A moment later Statia’s voice cried out “Now!” and Sentinel Aurora allowed a stack of eight crates to just drop through the flying ship of stars. By then Ranthia had finally reached the edge, so she watched Statia—the woman seemed to swim through the air as if it was water—as she reached the crates and touched them, then they followed her as she moved down toward what seemed to be an entire city, though half the buildings were tents.

  Ranthia confirmed a suspicion she had held ever since Statia had healed her in the colosseum back when they were trainees. Statia must have a Skill—or, more likely, at least one full class—that somehow changed based on the help she was asked to give.

  That was absurdly powerful. The potential flexibility was breathtaking.

  …If only it didn’t bind her like a slave to the words and whims of others.

  They flew further West, then the ship effortlessly slid downward through the sky. This base was much smaller than the last, it seemed to be a circular fortification of dirt and wood, with tents in the middle. Standards were never meant to be viewed from above, not that Ranthia was well versed in parsing out the meanings of them, so she was left speculating as the ship eased down.

  “Ranthia, here’s your stop. Got four crates I’ll drop with you. Just wait until I’m near the ground then hop over the side.” Sentinel Aurora ordered.

  Ranthia saluted and watched her new home for the next year or so approach.

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  Nozomi Matsuoka.

  Sarah "Neila" Elkins.