Chapter 124 - Path of Blood (Patreon)

<---Chapter 123 - Overpopulation | Table of Contents | Chapter 125 - Homeland--->

The mounted arctech repeaters fired rapidly, the engraving along the barrels glowing intensely as the storm of pellets showered the rioting crowd. Each pellet drove a straight hole through the sickly flesh of the malnourished slum dwellers, ripping through muscles, tendons, and skin in a churn of blood and meat.

Chants from the crowd turned to screams of horror as the rioting crowd immediately dispersed, but it was far too late for many of them. Many slum dwellers could only watch in shock as they ran, witnessing the zipping pellets turn their childhood friends into ragdolls, the multitude of pellets drilling and lodging themselves into the bones.

The mounted arctech repeaters' fire stopped in ten seconds as the barrel overheated, but the carnage had already been wrought. Hundreds of bodies were now piled up on one another, with survivors desperately trying to claw their way out of the pile. Others were suffocating under the immense weight, unable to move as their last vision was only a glimmer of the bright sky, their vision filtered through the streams of blood that flowed freely from the top.

Some stumbled away, unaware of their impending death, as they tried to plug the holes from which chunks of organs began to seep out. One man carried his wife in his arms, trying to flee while dragging his shot left leg, limping. “We’re almost out, we’re almost out!” he whispered to himself, unaware that his back was already riddled with pellet holes while his wife’s head lay limp, a gaping hole on her forehead with her eyes locked in a shocked expression.

The sight burned itself into the minds of the guards, with many of the local garrison’s guards having only heard about the first war but not fighting in it. Some of them retched out their meals on the sidewalk, while others began to tremble violently, unable to cope with the horrors in front of them.

“Arrest them all. Shoot all who resist.” Officer Gabriel ordered, but none of the guards moved. Not even the sergeant dared to move.

“Sergeant, execute the order NOW! Or should I consider this as insubordination?!”

The sergeant quickly snapped out of his hesitation; the years of blindly following orders from above drilled into him. “Arrest them now! Move!”

A good chunk of the guards complied, moving on instinct as they stepped over the barrier, their boots squishing against the strewn corpses that hugged the street, fresh blood streaming. However, there were three guards who refused to move, instead aiming their arctech guns toward Gabriel. "This is slaughter! I didn't sign up for the Army just so I could steal from them and kill them! Retract the order, or I'll have to kill you!" One of them threatened, motioning with the barrel of his arctech rifle.

Without hesitation, Gabriel immediately pulled out his handgun, executing all three of them in a swift motion. “Insubordination is punishable by death.” He muttered to convince himself, holstering his smoking handgun back into its holder. "I want this city under control, no matter want. MOVE! Get three squads back to the garrison barracks and find out who bombed us! Desham is now under martial law!"

The guards surged forward, desperate to retain their authority over the refugees. Anyone who tried to stand up against it was shot on sight, leaving the streets of Desham riddled with bodies and blood unlike ever before. Brutality and violence had become the norm for the next few hours as refugees scampered to get out of the city, unwilling to lose their lives to the guards. The sweep did not end there, with the guards pouring out into the refugee camp, sweeping through and executing those who resisted. Some of the guards had been originally reluctant: confiscating food was one thing, but slaughtering the helpless refugees was another. However, Officer Gabriel's execution of those who defied him was more than enough to persuade them otherwise.

"The people do not respect us - the refugees, the city dwellers, even the councilors!" Officer Gabriel roared as he led the sweep himself. "They treat us lower than dogs, lower than even the ants that crawl on the pavement. We upheld justice and the law in this town, yet all we got was vitriol and calls for our blood. They escalated it first! We gave them rations, we offered them recruitment, and in exchange, they desecrated the very city we swore to protect. THEY ARE THE ATTACKERS!"

The false sense of justice emboldened the guards, spurred on by peer pressure as well as the fear of retribution if they ever let the refugees regroup or form back into a large crowd again. Their minds had been spurred to put the blame for the unrest on the refugees, but Officer Gabriel knew exactly who was really to blame. The Governor. The poor management and greed led to tough conditions that gave rise to more unrest and rebellious elements among the refugees. However, there was no turning back now.

Conflict was like a ladder of escalating violence; it was a simple matter of who was willing to climb to the higher rung to assert victory and dominance. The refugees were the ones who escalated the issue first! Gabriel tried to convince himself, but as the counterattack progressed deeper into the slums, the guards were frightened by the sights they saw.

Countless guards and Nest men who had been part of the confiscation operation were mutilated, cut, and hung up all along the streets, stripped of their clothes, armor, and weapons in their entirety. Many were still alive, barely clinging onto consciousness as wounds and blood still flowed freely, dripping off their dangling toes. Vicorn had not been spared either, suffering bruises and slashes all across his lanky, wrinkled body, his old sagging skin marred with stains of blood as he murmured incoherently.

"Get those men medical attention now! What's the status of the garrison barracks? Do we have access to our medical supplies?" Gabriel hurriedly organized a rescue effort, the guards moving forward to cut off their fellow colleagues' restraints as fast as they could. The rescue bogged down the original arresting operation - Gabriel still saw his men as a useful resource necessary to maintain martial law. At least a third of his men and all Nest guards in the city had been beaten badly.

Gabriel knelt next to the suffering Vicorn, checking the condition of his tortured body. "Who did this, Vicorn? Did you get lynched by the refugees?!"

Vicorn finally noticed Gabriel's face, his eyes widening as his gnarly old hands clutched Gabirel's sleeves. "The Ghosts! The Ghosts, we were attacked by Ghosts!"

"Ghosts...? That's not possible. Official military information was that the Ghosts all died in the depths of Tenar, there shouldn't be any left."

"The Ghosts! The Ghosts!" Vicorn blabbered incoherently, the panic in his face visible, but his words were jumbled up in a never-ending loop. Gabriel couldn't waste any more time on the clearly mentally deranged Vicorn now, moving off to assist his men in retrieving the other injured guards.

Still, Vicorn's words lingered in Gabriel's mind. The Ghosts... if it is really them, that explains everything. But now that they have blown up the garrison barracks... what is their next goa- Gabriel immediately turned about, marching straight back towards a wagon positioned near the pile of rubble that was once the city gates and rasping on the door. "The council hall, who's guarding the council hall?"

"Sir, we have two squads guarding the councilors and the Governor. We're still being jammed, so we can't reach them!"

"Get me to the council hall now! You two, get your squads and follow me!" Gabriel urged, rushing over to the council hall. However, it was already too late. The two squads that had been defending the council halls had been shot dead, their bodies littered across the entrance, while the once grand doors had been blown open completely. As soon as Officer Gabriel arrived at the front steps, there were already a dozen Ghosts aiming their Aspis MK2 repeaters at the wagons, while Kyle and Diya had captured the Governor already.

"Stand down, Officer Gabriel, stand down!" The Governor urged his eyes continuously glancing to the side of his head, where Kyle had his Oriental Bloom handgun pressed against the Governor's temple. "I SAID STAND DOWN!"

Officer Gabriel cursed under his breath, wondering whether he should start a fight. However, he soon noticed that Kyle and the Ghosts were all well armored, featuring arctech knight armor that could deflect most pellets, while his own guards were relatively poorly equipped. He motioned with his hand, ordering the guards not to fire. Beyond the blasted door of the council hall, Gabriel could see the dead bodies of the councilors who had stayed behind, all of them killed by the Ghosts.

"Smart head on your shoulders, Governor. Life is important after all, is it not? Now, let's continue our discussion of how we can collaborate." Kyle spoke with a confident aura, his suave voice precise and clear for all to hear. "Perhaps we can start by reigning in these guards. Have them disarm their weapons. Now."

"T-there's no need to, we can work together, like you've said. I can give you one-tenth, no, one-fifth of all the food stored in the silo. You'll be provided with lodging in Desham, and you'll have a seat on the council." The Governor pleaded. "The guards will be useful in enforcing rule and stability, and together, we can crush the refugees to our will!" He continued to talk while his shifty eyes motioned at Gabriel with a slight hint, Gabriel getting the gist of what was happening. Gabriel himself used three fingers behind his back, acting like he was stretching his finger though he instead was signaling to a guard still in the wagon. The wagon guard nodded in response, preparing an emergency smoke gun that would signal all the guards to converge on the council hall. The Governor is trying to buy time for us!

"And why would I want to crush the refugees to our will?" Kyle asked.

"W-what? Isn't that the whole purpose of all of this? So that you can get power? I can help you. My family and friends are all bigshots in the city, and we can-"

"I think there's a misunderstanding, Governor. I'm not interested in sharing power." Kyle grinned, the Oriental Bloom handgun powering up. "I'm here to send a message. And I don't need a middleman."

Gabriel's jaw dropped as he watched the handgun's fired pellet blast the Governor's brains out, grey matter forcing through a tiny hole through the skull while the Governor's body collapsed to the ground, his face still locked in confusion. Before Gabriel could even give the command to fire, the Ghosts attacked first, their amplified Aspis MK2 Repeaters mowing down the guards who couldn't react fast enough.

The arctech wagons were riddled with holes, killing even the guard who was about to fire the smoke gun. Gabriel dived to the ground behind the wagon, trying to scramble away from the withering barrage that decimated all the guards around him, leaving him as the sole survivor. He cowered down, covering his head before he heard a loud stomp land right next to him, Kyle grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the ground again, Gabriel's bone hurting from the forceful impact.

"You've acted just like Diya said you would. Now, tell all your guards to stand down, or your wife and son will be killed right now. Don't make this any harder than it has to be." Kyle lifted him up again, strangling him with a single armored fist on his right exosuit arm.

Gabriel grunted as he struggled to pry open Kyle's fingers wrapped around his neck to no avail, his legs kicking futilely at the immobile Kyle. It's him! He's the one behind all of this! Despair took over Gabriel's mind, his will eventually breaking as he nodded vigorously in agreement, before Kyle released him to the floor.

"Get to it. I don't have much time. Get all the guards to assemble in front of me right now."

Just like this, Desham's entire authority fell under the Ghosts. Gabriel's command to retreat was met with confusion, but the majority decided to follow, assembling in front of the council hall where the Ghosts disarmed them, relieving them of their arctech rifles and weapons entirely. Close to a hundred guards were now standing in front of Kyle and Diya, who now wielded the power in Desham. "Good work. The city is now ours." Kyle smiled, the plan having been pulled off successfully.

With the meat accumulated from the Keru Forest, they were able to coordinate and galvanize the refugees to surge forward. He had allowed Nest to see and get information on their supply route, raising the alarm and undoubtedly getting the military to suppress the refugees, creating even more unrest that Kyle could direct. Jammers and explosives were placed accordingly, while the enhanced Hayden projectile by the railgun allowed Kyle to blow up the garrison barracks from a good range. Diya, too, was amazed at the ease of the plan, though she still had a few lingering questions. "Sir, wouldn't it have been easier if they were in the barracks and sleeping? Your railgun would have killed all of them."

"I believe in human rights," Kyle replied cryptically. "Every human's life has meaning, and it wouldn't be right to just kill them like that."

Diya and the Ghosts were slightly surprised by the statement. "But these guards would find every opportunity to betray us the moment Harrison turns his sight onto us. They are a liability, we should not even be trying to recruit them."

"Is that why you think I gathered all of the guards here?" Kyle smirked. "Like I said, every human's life has meaning."

Diya was about to ask again, but a rumbling sound could be heard from afar, a wave of thunderous footsteps approaching. The refugees who were on the run from the pursuing guards now had the complete freedom to enter the city, all of them marching and pushing up in unison. Their march led them right up to the council hall, where the guards were all lined up in unison, their faces still confused as to what was about to happen. Chants by the refugees could be heard again, blood boiling and tension rising.

"DOWN WITH THE MILITARY! DOWN WITH THE GOVERNOR!"

"KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL AND TAKE OUR FREEDOM!"

"There he is, that's the fucking governor who.... huh? He's dead!" One of the refugees leading the mob spotted the dead Governor's body, lifeless on the street like a wretched dog who had just been put down. The eyes of the refugees rested on Kyle, his figure imposing as he mercilessly kicked the governor's body.

"Who's that? Who's the man who killed the governor?" The refugees had no clue who Kyle was, Kyle having kept hidden throughout this entire affair, working from the shadows.

Some of the more enraged refugees blinded by anger didn't care who it was. "Must be another fucking prick! Look at his outfit, he's not a refugee! Kill him before he kills us!"

Intimidation Aura!

"CITIZENS OF VERSIA!" Kyle bellowed with such force that all the refugees stopped right in their tracks, the fearsome aura spreading through them quickly and rooting their feet to the ground. When the refugees looked at him, they didn't just see a normal man - they saw the embodiment of dominance and fear, their primal instincts immediately raising alarm bells against Kyle, warning themselves not to fight him.

Unexpectedly, Kyle didn't continue speaking, instead motioning for Diya to step forward and address the rowdy mob. Diya gulped instinctively. She knew that this had always been part of the plan, yet now that she stood in front of thousands of hungry faces ready to tear her apart the moment she made a mistake, fear began to creep into her heart.

An awkward silence passed as Diya took deep breaths, the refugees still held at bay by Kyle, Kyle looking at Diya and observing her actions. Before Kyle decided to relinquish her of her role, Diya took a bold step forward, placing her right in front of the refugees.

"I have killed the Governor!" Diya loudly declared, her determined voice carrying far and wide. "I have killed the Governor, not because I seek power. Not because I seek wealth, and not because I seek control over others like you! No, I killed the Governor because I am you!"

"I am a refugee of the war, forced out of my home, forced into the camps to languish into famine, to suffer sickness and thirst, to be pushed into decisions that our forefathers, our Versian ancestors before, could have never tolerated. Decades ago, we united against the tyranny of the Yual Dominion, waging countless revolutions! My father and grandfather before me have fought tooth and nail for a better future! Is this the better future that they had hoped for? NO, IT IS NOT!"

The refugees’ faces began to lit up, murmurs of agreement through the crowd as they listened to Diya. "We fought for freedom, for equality, for representation of all Versians, yet look what happened? Greed and misery are accepted as the normal conditions, the voices of the poor and the forsaken lost in the midst of war, politics, and the interest of the minority that seek to rule us? Did we not oust the nobility from their seats of power? Did we not swear to stamp out the evils of royalty and everything the Yual Dominion stood for? I am like you, my comrades. I want food to eat, I want water to drink, I want a place to stay! I want safety, I want freedom, I want my voice to be heard! But most of all, I want this for ALL VERSIANS! WHAT SAY YOU?!"

"FREEDOM FOR ALL VERSIANS!" A refugee called out, the rest of the refugees chanting along.

"I am not here to be your leader, but to be your friend, to be your hope! Together we shall build a greater Desham, inclusive of all, and a greater future that we and our children can be proud of! I have killed the Governor, because I am you, and you are me! With our hearts and minds combined, food, water, and housing are basic rights to be made available to all! No more greed, no more corruption, no more unnecessary suffering. And anyone who tries to take that away from us will see a force and fury greater than this, so great that we can topple an entire city like we did today. FOLLOW US! JOIN THE GHOSTS OF VERSIA AND FOLLOW ME, DIYA, INTO THE FUTURE, AND LET US BUILD DESHAM TOGETHER, BETTER!"

"YEAAH!" The refugees all pumped their fists into the air.

"And as for the guards who have tried to steal from us, who have slaughtered countless of our brethren, they are not fit to join this future of us! We have stripped them of their weapons - deal with them as you see fit!" Diya waved her hand towards Officer Gabriel, whose face paled at the implications of what was to happen.

Kyle ended his intimidation aura, and the refugees saw the change in atmosphere as a sign that bravery had built up in them once more. All of their pent-up anger and hate was unleashed onto the guards, a big scuffle breaking out while the Ghosts and Kyle did nothing to stem the virulent violence that was spreading. Officer Gabriel himself fought as hard as he could to get away from the mob, but the refugees were far too numerous, chasing him down through the street and pouncing on him, countless punches and kicks raining blows upon blows on him.

"The guards are the perfect outlet for the refugees to vent their frustration. This will solidify our legitimacy even better. Get the Ghosts to open the grain storage and distribute the food immediately with no restrictions among the refugees." Kyle explained to Diya as they re-entered the council hall, the bodies of the dead councilors still littered across the marble floor, blood flowing freely. "Begin recruitment immediately - we'll take over every infrastructure that is still functioning."

Diya assumed her role as the newly installed leader of Desham, the two dozen veteran Ghosts and numerous fresh recruits executing her orders to the letter. The grain storage that had once been the prized possession of the now-deceased Governor was pillaged by the refugees, and the stores of food were now open for all to eat. Still, the refugees were not allowed to gorge themselves on the food, lest they suffer from overeating. Deployed Ghosts still controlled the rate at which they were allowed to access food, though the refugees were still more than happy to receive their due shares.

"Girl, quick, queue up so we get more food!" A malnourished mother hurried her daughter along, her spindly arms a testament to the famine she had suffered through. Countless refugees had similar stories like this, all of them now allowed to roam the city freely. Workers joined them in arms, rising up against their employers in force and immediately fighting back, gunshots ringing out among the streets.

On the other hand, the city dwellers who had been living in Desham were appalled by the sudden influx of refugees. They barricaded themselves into their own houses, hoping to wait out the storm on their own stockpiles that they had been accumulating over the last two months. Diya didn't falter at all, immediately ordering the Ghosts to arm the refugees and break into the houses of the hoarders, seizing everything of worth. A revolution had now begun, sweeping the entire city of Desham from top to bottom, leaving no stone unturned.

Some Versian guards survived, trying to escape through secret tunnels or hiding in basements, hoping to contact the military generals in Ocra or Tenar for assistance. "We must inform them that Desham has fallen to the Ghosts!" However, there were far too many refugees spreading out towards the city, hungry for revenge on those who had stolen from them. Every city dweller and guard was painted as the enemy, the refugees forming hunting squads and chasing stragglers down.

Their furniture, paintings, possessions and wealth were all appropriated by the refugees, houses now occupied by the unruly refugees while those who refused to give up their property were beaten and arrested, dragged to the council hall for a false trial. "We shall hold a feast, a feast to mark this day as the day of renewal for a free Versia!" Diya proclaimed, using the same banquet hall that the Governor and his cronies had been partying just the night before.

Countless residents tried their luck to merge into the refugees, but many were recognized and spotted immediately. "You, you're the factory owner who enslaved my brother!" One of the refugees yelled and pointed at a scrawny old man, his belly hard to hide despite his attempts to disguise himself. He was immediately arrested and hauled up for trial, Diya herself presiding over the ruckus as other refugees gathered in the banquet hall, shouting and screaming murder at the accused city dwellers while they munched on meat and drank the wine cellar of the Governor.

"Bring out the first to be accused!" Diya motioned, a lady and her son being dragged out in chains while the crowding refugees yelled and tossed food at them. "The wife of Officer Gabriel, who had given the order to slaughter countless Versians in cold blood, using the same guards and weapons sworn to protect Desham and fellow Versians! What do you have to say in your defense?!"

The wife of Gabriel couldn't speak at all, her legs shivering violently as she began to break into tears, watching the lifeless body of Gabriel being tossed in front of her, his face beaten into an unrecognizable pulp. The son was equally terrified, even if he did not truly understand what was going on.

"It seems the accused has no defense! As such, I pass my judgment - to be hung right now as a lesson to all those who would go against the cause!" Diya ordered, two Ghosts immediately hauling the wife and son away. The trials gave the refugees the vengeance they sought, giving them a cathartic release from all of the suffering and painful memories they endured during their time in the camps.

Not all of the upper-class or the garrison were captured just yet, many survivors clambering into secret tunnels built long ago that led out of the city, used in times of sieges. A sergeant led his his half-bruised men rescued from the clutches of the refugees down into the basement of a building. “Brothers, we will escape and find help, as soon as the Versian Army knows about this, retaliation will be swif- what the hell?!”

His inspirational speech was blocked by the ridiculous sight of a few of the former Governor’s sycophants already there, though they were moving extremely slowly due to the sheer amount of belongings that were being ferried by the servants down the tunnel.

“What the fuck is this?” One of the sergeants remarked as he noticed a servant of the council member carrying an opulent blue velvet carpet, attempting to stuff it through with his body in a small tight tunnel. “This tunnel is meant for escape, not for all your stupid, worthless belongings!”

“Shut up! That carpet is worth more than your entire platoon.” A council member rebuked the soldiers, causing them to be even angrier at what was happening. Officer Gabriel sacrificed himself for this cunts?!

A knowing look was exchanged between the soldiers, prompting them to grab the council member by the limbs. The servants immediately brandished their knives but were stalled by the soldiers, who all held arctech repeaters. “Do you really want to sacrifice yourself for this shithole of a master? Huh?”

“Let me go this instant! This is treason!” The council member struggled against the restraints. “If you just wait half an hour, the tunnel will be free to use!”

“Like hell, I’m going to wait!” The sergeant executed the council member on the spot with a gunshot right to the head. “Clear out the damn fucking tunnel!”

The soldiers fired shots into the tunnel, causing the servants who were still ferrying goods within to scream and speed up their pace, clearing out the length of the tunnel. “Good, let’s go. If we can get out of Desham and get the message out to the military, we can exact revenge for Officer Gabriel!”

“Yes, sir!”

But just as they began to enter the tunnel one by one, a loud scream could be heard at the front, along with what sounded like the slashing of flesh. The servants began to cry out in horror one by one, dropping the items they were carrying and running back, trying to squeeze past the soldiers.

“They found the tunnel, they found us!” The servants screamed in panic as a squad of Ghosts flushed them out, dragging the entire tunnel down into a fierce firefight as many of the Versian soldiers were caught off-guard and shot before they knew what was happening. Some tried to escape back the way they came, only to find angry refugees already flanking them, cutting off their retreat and capturing them in droves.

Other surviving soldiers broke up into various groups as they scattered across the city, trying to find a place to entrench themselves. The smarter ones targeted restaurants with ample food storage, while the more desperate ones tried to break into the houses of the known upper class, believing that they could use the luxuries to barter for food. Instead, all of them found armed refugees already occupying most of the places, resulting in fights breaking out all over Desham. Hours went by before the Ghosts managed to spread out and capture all of the remaining stragglers.

Within a single day, more than three thousand were marked to be hanged. Factory owners, store owners, landlords, escaping guards, former councilors - the purge was unrelenting. Kyle did not let a single one of the upper class slip through his finger, ensuring that no one would ever think about going against the Ghosts again in Desham. With the military and the upper class now crippled, Desham was ruled by the masses.

Recruitment of the refugees into Ghosts went smoothly as well, the Ghosts having earned a legendary reputation for achieving and leading the revolution. Many saw the Ghosts as a way into the new power structure that rule Desham, while others truly believed in the cause of the Ghosts, wanting to fight for a free Versia. It did not matter to Kyle their differences - as long as they were all aligned towards the same goal of opposing the current power structure of Versia.

Controlling Desham was merely one step of the plan. "We will need to rebuild and industrialize. Food from the Keru Forest by hunting mammoth hogs is not sustainable in the long run. If we are to establish a serious base of operations, mobilizing the refugees is of critical operations." Kyle explained the course of action to Diya and the other Ghosts as they gathered in the former Governor's office, looking over the finances of Desham. "The first order of business is to hunt down and ensure no one can report what happened here to Harrison. Capture every Nest soldier and worker in Tenar Logging, and make sure we're providing false reports to stave off any suspicion. Establish communication back with Ocra so we can see the progress of the war as well."

"What about the refugees? How do we get them to move? Most of them might not want to work." Diya pointed out.

"The refugees did not want to join the Army, nor did they want to join the factories because they did not want to be a cog in the machine. But if they knew what they were working for and what it would help them with, they would do it without any complaints. We will also ostracize and reduce rations for those unwilling to help out with the rebuilding of Desham. Feldon and I will head two construction companies, building them from the ground up. We will use the wood from Tenar Logging to establish quick and easy permanent housing." Kyle drew up a simple blueprint, a standard house that was rugged and resilient enough to withstand the elements.

"The refugees wouldn't know how to build a house - hell, I wouldn't know how to myself!" A Ghost pointed out.

"That's why we would be performing it in a pre-fabricated manner. Each refugee would be only given a single specific task, rather than trying to make them an expert in everything. I will oversee the entire process and ensure each role is filled accurately." Kyle cut up the blueprint with lines, highlighting them to be different sections manufactured in advance. Construction equipment was also not an issue, the factory workers having already ousted the factory owners from power and taking control of themselves.

Not everyone was planning to listen to Diya and Kyle; many of the more opportunistic refugees had occupied houses and districts using captured military equipment to put up resistance and carve out their own territory, much like Raktor. Kyle did not stand for any of this, personally sending Sasha and the other Ghosts to crush each gang and thug outfit that appeared with brutal forces, their mutilated bodies laid bare for all the other refugees to see and quelling all thoughts of resisting the new order.

Over the next week, Kyle solidified his grip over Desham, having Diya act as the figurehead while he held all the power in the shadows, controlling the strings that led to the restoration of Desham. The refugees had nothing to complain about; the stored food and the hunted mammoth hog meat ensured they did not go hungry. The housing plan was met with thunderous support among the compliant refugees and workers overall, each of them feeling a sense of fulfillment towards a common goal, much unlike how they were working beforehand for the profits of the minority.

The progress was visible, Sasha leading a strike force to establish control over Tenar Logging and their restricted forestry zones. With the military garrison in the city destroyed, the Nest guards capitulated easily, surrendering to the Ghosts and allowing Kyle to take over command of the forestry operations. Every logging equipment fell easily into his hands and setting the stage for an entire vertical industry to take place.

Kyle worked with the emboldened factory workers, finding skilled arctech engineers and etchers among them to work out the fabrication of the houses. Other unskilled workers were used to dig out sewage systems beyond the walls of Desham, expanding the infrastructure and laying roads for better transportation of materials. They worked round the clock in shifts, everyone enjoying the fruits of the revolution and invigorated by the recent victory.

Each tile and wooden beam they laid as the foundations spurred them, even more, to work harder, seeing their work contribute to a goal that directly benefited them. Naturally, not everyone was aligned with the same goals. Some tried to steal and scavenge materials, stashing them and hoping to sell them secretly to others, such as things like arcite ore, engines, or even wagons. Such corruption or black market dealing was crushed instantly by the Ghosts wherever found, the perpetrators tortured heavily and forced into slave labor, their crimes known to the rest.

With the beneficial projects being done, along with the bad apples being weeded out, a strong labor base of refugees and factory workers began to coalesce into the new manpower pool that was loyal to the Ghosts and Diya, believing in the future that Diya had preached. It was hard to argue otherwise, when already the foundations of houses and their internal frames were being established in droves, the former slum maze of the refugee camps being removed in favor of much more stable housing.

By the end of two weeks, the first houses were completed, and the hardworking construction workers and refugees were allocated first, which allowed their families to have a safe shelter. Their tangible rewards further entrenched their respect and adoration for the Ghosts, the reputation of the Ghosts of Versia skyrocketing when pinned against the terrible actions and deeds of the Governor and his cronies.

The Keru Forest village had also been transformed into a hunting base, a productive process of hunting and foraging being established by the influx of more manpower being sent from Desham. Drake's potion production process was also improved with more helpers, the village expanding in prosperity while enjoying all of the benefits and comforts of Desham, receiving household necessities and luxuries appropriated from the purged upper-class.

The city gate had also been restored, Kyle reinforcing it. Throughout these two weeks, refugees had continuously been streaming in, but in the last two days, the number of refugees had dropped considerably, Kyle worrying a little about the implications of such an effect. What made it even more concerning was that the rate of injured soldiers fleeing the battlefield had increased dramatically, composing more than a third of the refugees coming. Information about the war and battles was sparse and uncoordinated as best, each of the injured guards having their own takes on what happened.

"We lost many comrades, but our forces overall have gained the upper hand over those damn Yual dogs!" One of the injured soldiers waved his fist angrily as he was interrogated by the Ghosts, while others moaned.

A few suffered strange symptoms of frostbite, their eyes wide from the horrors they had seen as they clutched onto the edges of their bed, unwilling to leave it. “The ice… the ice! Don’t bring me back there, don’t bring me back! Not the ice!”

Kyle couldn’t make sense of the crazy ramblings, but the progress of the war was of critical importance to Kyle, so he continued the interrogations. Ghost messengers made runs and hitched messages on supply wagons bound for Ocra, forming a communication network that allowed for the transfer of information.

By now, Harrison would have already been fighting for three weeks in total, yet the most recent message from Culo was that the battle was still being reported as a slow Versian victory. Despite the power and technological prowess of Harrison, the sheer army size of Count Leon was not easy to defeat in its entirety, the tides of war going back and forth as the soldiers fought over every inch of land.

Kyle pondered on what he needed to do - the longer the war went on, the more power he would gain in both Raktor and here in Desham. If he wanted to prolong the war, he needed to assist the side that was losing. This means at some point, I will have to either help Harrison or Count Leon.

By now, he had regained his former strength of two hundred Ghosts, forming a strong enough force to perform strikes in the war as well. Moving from Desham would leave this new industrial base vulnerable to a counterattack by Harrison, but if I don't assist Count Leon, Raktor could fall under siege, and it would jeopardize my factories under the Seven Snakes. Kyle preferred not to suffer any losses to what he had painstakingly established in Raktor as well, about to assemble a strike team under Sasha to return to Raktor when a new military report on the progress of the war had been intercepted by the Ghosts reached his ears.

"The Versian Army has been routed at the border, and they are retreating to Ocra! Count Leon and the forces of Kregol and Perlis are now on the offensive!"

The first strike has failed?! Kyle was surprised that Harrison would make such a blunder, but it didn't matter. With the Versian Army on the route, he had no doubt that Count Leon was angling for a quick end to the war, something Kyle could not allow to happen.

"Prepare the Ghosts. We will have to fight for Ocra in a month."

A day later, in Ocra...

The refugee camp at Ocra was in shambles, with countless injured and defeated soldiers streaming through its streets as they fled the battlefield, seeking refuge in Ocra. They were a sorry bunch, their uniforms in tatters while their eyes stared into the horizon. The bravery and courage they once held before the war were now replaced with a daze and an aversion to loud sounds. They marched silently without cheer, huddled together under the light drizzle over Ocra, their boots smacking the soggy mud in a depressing retreat.

Refugees and slum dwellers alike who did not have the means nor courage to flee to other cities could only watch on as the column of defeated soldiers entered into misery, the despair and impending failure crippling the morale of the city. Amidst the column of soldiers were captured Raktor soldiers, kept in metal cages that were hauled into the city, the generals had hoped that such shows of imprisonment would help uplift the spirits.

Instead, the Raktor soldier merely grinned at the forlorn sights of the citizens and residents of Ocra who looked on from their windows and along the streets, his body bloodied and soaked in mud. With a crazed voice, he shouted out with a harrowing tone: "FOOLS! SOON, DEATH WILL COME FOR ALL OF YOU! COUNT LEON AND HIS KNIGHTS WILL SLAUGHTER ALL OF YOU AND TEAR YOU LIMB FROM LIMB! IN THREE DAYS, ALL OF YOU WILL-"

His furious speech was cut short by the stab of a spear, a Versian soldier killing him out of fury. The Raktor soldier held a horrifying smile on his face, unnerving the residents, who began to panic. Hoarding was rampant, while law and order began to break down significantly. Desertion was becoming the norm, even as General Verian returned to the city, trying to use her own failing authority to stem the tide of crime. "We will persevere! The walls of Ocra will hold, and we will repel those who encroach on our sovereignty with impunity! The loss is but a temporary setback, one which will recover from and strike back with full force!"

Some of the residents were buoyed by the General's assertions, but Culo was not an idiot. He had been watching the baggage train of the soldiers continuously filter into the city, each of them more injured and weakened than the last. Disease and sickness spread like wildfire through the ranks, even afflicting the refugees and residents themselves, creating even more unrest. As much as Culo hated the current authority and wanted to use this opportunity to strike at the Versian Army, he knew it would be a foolish endeavor. Taking control of the city now through a violent revolution would only result in the city falling to Count Leon, something Culo had been instructed by Kyle not to allow.

Culo didn't know when Count Leon would arrive, but he had the Ghosts prepare to fight, gearing up for a long siege and stocking up supplies and potions to survive the imminent defense. Any supplies from Desham now were routed to him. Kyle will attack only when the main force arrives, not before. This means we have to hold the city on our own with the garrison.

He tried to probe the Versian Field Army for any information they had gathered, but even General Verian was not privy to Count Leon's movements, their observation of Aurtla planes being deterred by the Raktor army.

However, he soon didn't need the information any longer, for three days later, the stream of refugees and injured soldiers running for the safety of Ocra stopped.

No more fleeing.

No more trains of refugees clamoring to get behind the walls.

No more screaming.

Not even the usual chirps of birds and grunts of animals in the surrounding forest could be heard, not even the cricket of insects.

Just a silence that many had never seen before since the evacuations began months ago, the trenches lining the dark muddy fields ahead of the walls calm and quiet, as if all was right with the world. Some of the residents saw this as a period of calm, and a few of them were even thankful that there would be no more mouths to feed, but Culo knew why no more refugees were coming to Ocra.

This is the end of the line. Culo braced himself as he watched the first advance attack divisions peek over the horizon on the next day, the flag of Count Leon's colors flying freely in the wind for all to see.

The Siege of Ocra had begun.

<---Chapter 123 - Overpopulation | Table of Contents | Chapter 125 - Homeland--->

Author's Note: End of Book 2.