‎‎The blinding light hit him first. It wasn't the flickering fluorescent lights they had just been under. This was a golden glow that smelled like ozone, burning incense, and melted wax.‎‎Evander blinked, his vision blurry. A cold, polished marble floor was under his hands. He heard twenty-four other high school seniors murmuring in confusion and panic. They were in a room with a high ceiling.‎‎Welcome, Chosen Ones, to the Radiant Empire.‎‎The voice was melodic and feminine. It was also crushing. It made everyone in the room silent. Evander pushed himself up to his knees. He looked around. There were stained-glass windows showing angels fighting beasts. Knights in armor stood around the room, their halberds shiny and sharp.‎‎This wasn't a dream. The air was too cold. The knight's metal moved too heavily. The ozone smell was too strong.‎‎High Priestess Seraphina stood at the front of the room. She wore white and gold. Her headdress looked like a halo of blades. She looked at

‎‎The golden light did not hurt his body, but it messed with his mind, taking away his senses one by one until he was just a tiny spark of awareness in a huge, loud space. High Priestess Seraphina's voice was like thunder, a powerful order meant to control him, to pull him to the altar where he had been thought to be worthless.‎‎The system inside Evander's soul did not obey.‎‎System Emergency Protocol Activated.‎‎External Extraction Stopped by Abyssal Coordinator Authority.‎‎Redirecting Consciousness Vector...‎‎Found Sinking Surface Anchor. Starting Proxy Sync.‎‎The feeling of falling returned, but this time he was falling up. The loud screaming wind stopped, replaced by the heavy grinding sound of gears shifting stone and the faint smell of earth and rust.‎‎Evander opened his eyes.‎‎Everything looked different. His vision was divided into a black and white grid scanning the environment in shades of cold grey and blue. He tried to look down at his hands. When he raised

‎‎The oak doors of the Castra Adventurer Guild did not make a sound when they were pushed open. They made a groaning noise under the weight of the huge iron sentinel that stepped through the doorway. The rain outside kept hitting the streets of the lower district. Inside the guild, the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer, old sweat, and fear.‎‎The guild was packed with high-tier adventurers, mercenaries and local fighters. Usually, the guild was a place with warriors boasting and gold coins clinking. Tonight it was as quiet as a graveyard. The news of the vanguards' defeat at the Ironclaw Ridge had finally. Every veteran in the room knew what it meant. The Empire was in a situation. When the Empire was in a situation, it forced independent adventurers to fight on the front lines.‎‎Everyone looked at Evander's proxy shell as it entered the room. He had changed the way the sentinel looked using his Territory Management System. The standard military brass accents were now a du

The western river basin was supposed to be a valley. It was a place where the human empire could easily get water before pushing into the demonic territories. That was what the old military maps said. They were drawn by the crusaders centuries ago.. As the third infantry division of the Radiant Empire marched through the narrow canyon pass they found cracked mud and dried vines. The vines clung to the rock walls.Sub-Commander Kaelen wiped dust from his forehead. His silver armor felt like a furnace in the afternoon sun. He was a veteran of border skirmishes. He had earned his position through blood and obedience to the church.. His throat was burning. His water skin had been empty since dawn.Behind him two thousand foot soldiers marched in a formation. Their chainmail clinked. Their heavy boots thudded on the earth. It usually sounded like a machine of war. Today it sounded like a death march.Sub-Commander, a voice called out. It was Lieutenant Thalia. Her face was pale and dirty.

The trip to the part of Castra was like going up a big ladder of social classes in the Radiant Empire. The lower parts of the city were really cold and foggy. The air smelled bad because of the wet wood.. The upper part, where the military and church people lived was warm and nice. They had heat crystals under the streets to keep it that way.. On this night the warmth did not feel right. The light from the lanterns made long shadows on the empty streets and instead of the usual sound of carriages you could hear the sound of soldiers marching.Guild Master Ovan pulled his cloak tighter around him as his carriage went through the iron gates of the city. His hands were clenched together. His knuckles were white because he was nervous. He had a folder in his pocket that had fake lists of food and supplies that Evander had given him. It was a good fake. It said that they had found a secret storage of food in a warehouse that used to belong to Bishop Malakar.To people who did not know what