The RA Branch Headquarters in Yosemite City was a fortress of modern magi-tech, its towering spires piercing the night sky like crystalline lances. Within its depths, far from the bustling administrative floors and the strategic command centers, lay the sanctum of the Rankers Association Branch Ranker Chief—a private chamber designed for the most critical of recoveries and the most profound of meditations.
The chamber was vast and circular, its walls composed of interwoven obsidian and silver, etched with countless warding arrays that pulsed with a soft, rhythmic light. The floor was a single, seamless disc of polished black stone, its surface cool to the touch and inscribed with a complex mandala that channelled ambient mana into a focused stream. Above, a crystalline dome revealed the starry sky, the constellations wheeling slowly overhead, their distant light filtering through the transparent barrier.
In the centre of the chamber, upon a meditation mat of woven phoenix feather and spirit silk, sat Blaze Beam.
The Ranker Chief exhaled a long, shuddering breath—the first full exhalation he had allowed himself in days. The air left his lungs in a visible plume of vapour, carrying with it the residual tension of his prolonged seclusion. His muscles, which had been coiled in a state of intense focus, finally relaxed, and he felt the weight of his recovery settle upon him like a familiar cloak.
He rose from the meditation mat with fluid grace, his movements betraying none of the weakness he had felt just days before. The healing had been arduous, a painstaking process of channelling his own energy into the damaged tissues, coaxing them to regenerate at an accelerated rate. The heavy axe scar that marred his bare chest was a livid reminder of his last encounter with the Blood Orc Chieftain—a wound that had nearly cost him his life.
Blaze Beam gazed down at the scar, his fingers tracing its jagged outline. The mark was still tender, the skin beneath still sensitive, but the flesh had knitted together with remarkable efficiency. The wound was closed, the internal damage repaired. He was whole again—or as whole as he would ever be.
"Fortunately," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the chamber's vastness, "I have been able to recover about 85% of my maximum strength. By the next twenty-four hours, I should be able to recover fully. Then I will battle that damn filthy orc without any inhibitions!"
His fist clenched, the muscles in his forearm tensing with barely contained fury. The memory of his defeat burned within him—the savage strike of the orc's axe, the searing pain of the wound, the ignominious retreat that had been forced upon him. He was the Branch Ranker Chief, the strongest warrior in Yosemite City, and he had been brought low by a beast from the depths.
But that was then. This was now. And tomorrow, he would have his revenge.
With a thought, he activated the spatial storage embedded in his wristband, and his Class D Gear materialised around him in a cascade of black and red light. The armour was a masterpiece of craftsmanship—interlocking plates of darkened alloy, each one inscribed with enhancement arrays that amplified his strength, speed, and endurance. The crimson accents that ran along the seams pulsed with a subtle glow, like veins of molten fire coursing through the metal.
The helmet settled over his head, and the world sharpened into crystalline focus. His HUD flickered to life, displaying vital statistics, environmental data, and communication channels. He flexed his fingers, feeling the power of the armour flow through him, and nodded with satisfaction.
"Ready", he thought. "Finally ready."
Blaze Beam strode through the corridors of the RA HQ, his footsteps echoing against the polished floors. The hallways were quiet at this hour, the night shift personnel moving with subdued efficiency. They nodded respectfully as he passed, their eyes widening at the sight of their Chief in full combat gear.
He reached the training chamber—a vast, reinforced arena designed to withstand the most destructive of Ranker abilities. The walls were lined with energy-absorbing panels, the floor scarred from countless battles. The air was thick with the residual energy of recent training, and the scent of ozone and sweat hung heavy.
Within the chamber, his party was hard at work. He observed them for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the familiar faces of his trusted companions.
Leila, the party's primary ranged attacker, had collapsed on the ground, her chest heaving with exhaustion. Her light-colored hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat, her face flushed from exertion. Yet despite her obvious fatigue, her expression was one of pure, radiant triumph—a brilliant smile that illuminated her features.
She raised a trembling fist in the air, her voice barely above a whisper. "I did it..."
Blaze Beam approached, his footsteps drawing her attention. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with pride.
"I did it, Chief!"she exclaimed, her voice growing stronger. "After countless casts of my powerful Class E skill, the {Skylight Light Spear} skill has reached the Great Success level of proficiency!" She paused, catching her breath, then continued. "And my most-used skill, the {Light Arrow}, has reached a Master Success level of proficiency!"
She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her gaze burning with renewed determination. "Now I am confident in facing Astartes once more! This time, he will not be able to defeat me so overwhelmingly!
Her jaw tightened, the memory of her bitter loss to the young Infinity Mage still fresh in her mind. That defeat, swift and humiliating, had spurred her on more than she had ever imagined. It had driven her to train harder, push further, and achieve heights she had never thought possible.
"Just you wait, Astartes," she gritted her teeth, her voice fierce with resolve. "I will surpass you!"
Blaze Beam watched her with a mixture of pride and amusement. Leila had always been a fierce competitor, but her encounter with Astartes had ignited a fire within her that he had never seen before. It was good—the kind of motivation that transformed good Rankers into great ones.
He turned his attention to the other members of his party, noting their progress with a practised eye. His party was a well-oiled machine, each member complementing the others' strengths and covering their weaknesses. They had been through countless battles together, had faced death side by side, and had emerged stronger for it.
He was pleased with their progress. They were ready for the coming battle.
As Blaze Beam moved to the communication panel to check for updates, he found a message from Zoom Glass—the same thorough, meticulous report he had come to expect from the veteran administrator. The message detailed the progress of Yosemite City's most promising young Ranker, the Infinity Mage, Astartes.
Blaze Beam read the report, his eyebrows rising with each passing line. The information was staggering: Astartes had attained High Class E within a single day of being a Low Class E. His growth was unprecedented, his rate of advancement almost unheard of in the annals of RA history.
A slow smile spread across Blaze Beam's face. The news was a great source of encouragement, a confirmation that his trust in the young ranker had been well-placed. Astartes was not just talented—he was exceptional, a true prodigy whose potential seemed limitless.
He shared the news with the gathered party members, his voice carrying a note of genuine excitement. "Astartes has reached High Class E," he announced. "In just one day, he has advanced from Low Class E to High Class E. His power has nearly tripled."
The reaction was immediate. His party members expressed shock, admiration, and celebration—all except for Leila, whose eyes almost popped out of her head the moment she heard the news.
"High Class E?!" Her mind raced, struggling to process the information. "He was Low Class E when he defeated me! He was barely stronger than I was, and yet he crushed me like I was nothing!"
Her thoughts spiralled, the implications of Astartes's advancement crashing over her like a tidal wave. If she were defeated when he was merely Low Class E, then how terrifying would he be now that he was almost three times stronger?
The realisation hit her like a physical blow, and she felt the wind leave her lungs. Her newfound confidence, so hard-won through hours of gruelling training, suddenly seemed fragile, inadequate. What was the point of reaching Great Success with her skills if her rival was growing at such an impossible rate?
But then, her competitive spirit reasserted itself. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Despite her unwillingness to see Astartes widen the gap in their abilities, she knew that his strength was invaluable. He was their best hope against the Class D Catacomb Lord that had plagued their city for years. If his power could help conquer and eradicate the scourge, then his advancement was a blessing, not a curse.
She gritted her teeth, her fingers curling into fists. "Fine. Let him grow. Let him become stronger. I will just have to work harder, train longer, and push myself even further. I will not be left behind!"
Blaze Beam observed her internal struggle with a knowing eye, but he said nothing. Leila's rivalry with Astartes was a powerful motivator, one that would drive her to achieve greatness. He had seen such rivalries before, and he knew that they often produced the strongest rankers.
He turned his attention to the larger picture, his mind already formulating the strategy for tomorrow's assault. Together with Astartes, he was confident in taking down the powerful Catacomb Lord Orc, finally.
The combined strength of his power and that of the Infinity Mage would be overwhelming, a force that even the Blood Orc Chieftain could not withstand.
For the first time in months, Blaze Beam allowed himself to feel hope. Tomorrow, they would end this nightmare. Tomorrow, they would claim victory.
However, was it going to be that simple?
Suddenly, the silence of the training chamber was shattered by a sound that sent ice through everyone's veins.
BWAAAAAAAAAAAMP!
BWAAAAAAAAAAAMP!
BWAAAAAAAAAAAMP!
BWAAAAAAAAAAAMP!
The alarm blared through the RA HQ, a deep, resonant wail that seemed to vibrate through the very foundations of the building. Red warning lights flashed in rapid sequence, casting the training chamber in an eerie, pulsing glow. The sound was unmistakable—a protocol that had been drilled into every Ranker, every administrator, every staff member.
A Catacomb Outbreak!
Blaze Beam's complexion stiffened, the colour draining from his face. His party members paled, their expressions shifting from triumph to dread in an instant. Such a sound of alarm was only made in one circumstance, and that circumstance was the worst possible outcome—the Catacomb had breached containment.
The Blood Orc Chieftain, the Orc Ruins Catacomb, the near-critical energy levels that Zoom Glass had been monitoring—all of it came together in a single, horrifying moment.
Blaze Beam's mind raced, his tactical instincts kicking into overdrive. The Catacomb Outbreak meant that the creatures within had broken through the barriers, that they were pouring into the city, that thousands of lives were at risk. This was the nightmare scenario he had been preparing for, the crisis he had been training to face.
The RA Headquarters immediately transformed from a place of orderly administration into a hive of frantic activity. The emergency alarms continued their mournful wail, piercing through every corridor, every chamber, every corner of the sprawling complex. Red warning lights pulsed in rhythmic sequence, casting long, dancing shadows across the faces of Rankers and staff alike as they scrambled to their positions.
The training chamber had become a staging ground, its reinforced walls now lined with weapon racks and emergency supply crates. Blaze Beam stood at its centre, his black and red Class D armour gleaming ominously in the crimson light. His party members gathered around him, their faces a mixture of fear and determination, their hands already reaching for their gear.
The communication panel on the wall crackled with incoming reports, the voices of RA personnel from across the city overlapping in a chaotic symphony of urgency. Blaze Beam's mind processed the information with machine-like efficiency, filtering out the noise and focusing on the critical details.
His first assessment was immediate and chilling: given the brief of Astartes successfully clearing the Kobold Catacomb and currently raiding the Lava Wyvern Catacomb, he was certain it was not a Class E outbreak. The Kobold Catacomb had been cleared, its energies neutralised. The Lava Wyvern Catacomb was currently being cleansed by Astartes, its Lord still contained within.
Which only meant one thing.
The Class D Orc Ruins Catacomb!