Chapter 104: New Arrivals At The Oradonian Base!
Region 1…
Duke City…
The New Oradonian Base…
Priestess Kendra returned through the obsidian gates, her cloak stained with travel dust but her eyes glowing with quiet triumph. Trailing behind her was a growing crowd—refugees, wanderers, broken warriors, and bitter survivors—people with nothing left to lose and everything to gain. They came seeking hope. They came following Kendra's voice, which had offered more than just salvation: it promised power, wealth, and revenge.
Many followed her for the promise of Nazare Empire gold coins, whispered like blessings into desperate ears. Others followed because of the dream of dignity restored—to rise, to fight, to matter again.
As they entered the towering courtyard of the New Oradonian Base, a collective gasp rose from the newcomers.
The structure loomed with regal menace—a fortress carved from obsidian stone, rising in geometric defiance of time itself. Heartwood from the sacred groves of El'dan ran through its frame—windows and archways etched with glistening veins of age-old magic. Sapphire-glass windows cast soft light across the floors like pools of frozen starlight.
But it was the symbol—repeated across the walls, columns, banners, and entryways—that stole the eye: a lone figure in flowing robes, arms raised high, a blazing wand in one hand, bursting with celestial fire.
"Wow!"
A woman named Wuza Selone gasped. She had lost her husband and her children to the wickedness of some of the soldiers of the emperor.
In their bid to have fun, they came into her home and raped her through the night, killing her husband and her two sons and placing their heads as trophies.
She had tried to complain and fight her way, but no one would even touch her with a 10 feet pole. So when priestess Kendra came with her juicy offer, she jumped on it without blinking.
Wuza Selone, gaunt and wide-eyed, stumbled to a halt.
She had not come for the gold.
She had come for blood.
She remembered all too clearly: the shrieks of her children, the madness in the soldiers' eyes, the warm splash of her husband's blood, and the cold silence that followed. The palace guards had treated her pain like a joke. The city elders had looked the other way. No one had come. No one had lifted a finger.
Until now.
Now, standing in the shadow of this citadel, she no longer felt small.
"I will never forget," she whispered under her breath. "And I will never forgive."
Priestess Kendra turned, her voice crisp and clear. "Listen well, all of you."
She gestured toward the high steps.
"This is my master—the one who founded the Oradonian Order—the one who is going to teach you what you need to know to be powerful… the great Archmage Amber Nois. From this day forward, you answer to her."
The crowd straightened, their gazes lifting toward the imposing figure who stepped forward in robes of sapphire and black, embroidered with runes that flickered like embers.
Before Amber could speak, her eyes glazed over.
A vision seized her like a tidal wave crashing through her mind.
She saw it all—the Trickster God, clawing his way into their world, his laughter ripping the sky apart. She saw Josh Aratat, proud and furious, swallowed into a blinding portal, cast into the 5th dimension as a soul-bound prisoner. And then… silence. An eerie stillness.
But the threads of fate twisted onward.
Despite it all, Josh's fate hadn't changed.
The current emperor, bloated in hubris, still stood at the edge of his destined grave—and it would be Josh Aratat who cast him into it.
Amber's eyes snapped open, her breathing shallow.
The Trickster god had risen. The world had shifted. But the Dragon Prince's return was inevitable.
Even now, she could feel the tremor in the magic that bound the realms.
But fear churned in her chest. Once, for a short while since her return, she had stood atop the Empire's hierarchy as its greatest arcane force and most powerful entity in the entire empire. But now, with the arrival of that chaos-born Trickster god, her might felt… small.
For the first time in decades, Amber Nois wasn't sure if her power was enough.
She took a slow breath, her voice firm but edged with reverence.
"We begin training tomorrow. Your old lives are over. From here on, you belong to something greater. But know this—a storm is coming, and your resolve will be tested. If you think revenge or gold is what fuels this path, you're already dead."
She paused, eyes sweeping over their ragged forms.
"But if you want rebirth—power not only to destroy but to shape the world—then… welcome to the Order."
And somewhere behind her voice, the vision still echoed.
The Trickster God was out.
And the balance of the world had shifted.
"Kendra… come."
Archmage Amber Nois's voice was calm but carried a weight that made Kendra pause mid-step. She turned and walked toward her master, leaving the newly recruited crowd murmuring among themselves.
Some of the recruits stood respectfully, awaiting further instructions. But not all. A portion of them—about fifty—already wandered off, eyes scanning the towering walls of the Oradonian Base with unimpressed gazes, behaving as if they were on a casual village tour rather than standing on sacred, arcane ground.
Amber noticed them.
She always did.
She knew the type well—unruly spirits, the kind that mistake mercy for weakness and order for an invitation to test limits. But she'd lived long enough to read such souls before they even opened their mouths.
She already had a plan.
Kendra approached with a slight bow, concerned by the subtle edge in Amber's voice. "Master, what's the matter?"
Amber leaned close, her tone low and deliberate.
"Do you know of the Trickster God?"
Kendra's eyes widened, a chill lancing through her spine. "The one imprisoned in the 5th Dimension? Of course. He's a myth… right? A cautionary tale. Why do you ask?"
Amber's expression darkened. "He's no myth, Kendra. He's escaped."
Kendra recoiled slightly. "Escaped? That's impossible—he was locked behind one of the most ancient dimensional seals. No one can—"
"He's here," Amber interrupted gently but firmly. "He found a way out. He tricked someone into taking his place—an exchange. It won't be long before we start hearing of his chaos… if we haven't already." She paused to let the words settle.
Kendra stood still, stunned into silence. Her lips parted but no words came out. It was too sudden—too heavy.
Amber straightened. "Take the obedient ones to the dormitories we prepared. Let them rest, feed, and recover. The defiant ones?" She flicked her fingers dismissively. "Leave them to me. I know exactly how to... realign their perspectives."
Kendra nodded. "Yes, Master." Her voice was steady again, but her thoughts swirled.
Turning to the crowd, she raised her voice, "Everyone, follow me. I'll take you to your quarters."
About 150 of them responded immediately, eager and compliant.
The rest—50 or so—remained.
At the front of the pack, a grimy man by the name Jalel Arvey, with sallow cheeks, a tattered coat and a chewed stick between his teeth, eyed Amber with a twisted grin. His gaze roamed over her with disrespectful ease.
"Well now," he said, voice thick with sleaze, "you lookin' mighty fine, honey. You wanna come have some fun with me and my boys?"
Laughter rippled behind him.
Amber's eyes narrowed, though her smile remained unchanged.
She had expected this.
She had lived many lifetimes—seen empires rise and fall, watched savages dress in fine silk, and nobles crumble into filth. Human behavior was rarely a mystery to her.
She simply lifted one hand and whispered a word only the walls of the base could recognize.
The ground shifted.
Before the fifty could react, arcane glyphs lit up beneath them—silent, ancient, and impossibly fast. Their feet froze to the floor, caught by a spell of binding that felt like being hugged by steel and ice.
The leering man screamed. The others stumbled backward, only to be caught mid-step, frozen in place.
Amber walked slowly toward them, her robes sweeping the ground like shadows on velvet.
"You see," she said, her voice calm, "you were never needed in the first place. My invitation was mercy, and now you spat on it by being disrespectful and reaching for a mile when you haven't even learned to walk...You were measured… and found lacking."
Her eyes flared with power.
"Respect is earned… but disrespect will be punished severely. This will teach you to respect your elders."
She turned and walked away as the magical bindings dragged the screaming defiant ones underground—not to be killed, but to be… re-educated.