Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage - Chapter 398

Chapter 398: Verdantis Ascension Ranks
CH398 Verdantis Ascension Ranks

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By nightfall, Alex and his expedition party had arrived at the outskirts of Barnsil — Baron Leland Helton’s fortress town.

Alex was just about to send Udara, Silver, and a few Fury scouts to recon the area before their attack when he realised he’d been overlooking something.

Verdantis’s power ranking.

“What are your plane’s ascension rankings?” Alex suddenly asked as the group settled into a concealed section of woodland just outside Barnsil.

Kron looked over before answering, “From weakest to strongest: Bronze, Silver, Gold, Combat Master, Combat Saint, and Combat Sage. Each rank has One to Three Stars.”

“You have nothing above Combat Sages?” Alex pressed, already guessing these Sages aligned with Pangea’s Legend-tier equivalents.

“No,” Kron shook his head. “At least… not that I know of.”

He added, “Combat Sages are the known pinnacle. There aren’t many of them, but each one carries influence second only to Lord Juror and the rest of the Pantheon.”

Alex nodded.

That fit perfectly with his assumptions. If Verdantis was indeed weaker than Pangea, that would place its pinnacle strength at roughly Class 7, Epic rank — most likely referring to the Navi themselves.

In such a Navi-controlled world, these deities would never allow any other being to reach Epic rank. Everyone else would be capped at Legendary-level equivalents, and even then, the number of such experts would be tightly controlled so they didn’t band together and rebel…

much like what happened back in Pangea.

Alex turned his gaze back to Kron.

“What rank are you? Three-Star Bronze?” he asked, estimating from the man’s energy emissions.

“No!” Kron looked offended. “I’ll have you know I’m a One-Star Silver ranker.”

Not only Alex, but everyone else in the expedition — every Pangean present — stared at Kron with similar surprise.

Assuming Combat Sage was Class 6 (Legendary), Bronze should be Class 1 while Silver should correspond to Class 2.

And the Star system seemed to match Pangea’s early, mid, and late-stage progression in each rank.

But Kron’s internal energy clearly placed him at Late-stage Class 1, which should make him a Three-Star Bronze ranker.

Yet the man was adamant he was a stage above that — an early Silver.

And it didn’t seem like he was lying.

“Maybe it’s the difference in our Path systems, which makes us stronger.” Zora said from Alex’s side.

“That makes sense. If our plane is stronger than this one, it’s only natural we have more stringent standards,” Eleanor said.

Sugud nodded.

“That would practically mean that, at the same class, Pangeans would be a third more energy and thus be a third stronger.”

“At the very least.” Eleanor added, “if we factor in combat techniques and technology, the gap could be even wider.”

Udara looked between her two ‘sisters’, Zora and Eleanor. She wanted to add something too, but each time she tried to speak, someone beat her to it. In the end, she chose to stay quiet.

They had already voiced exactly what she’d intended to say.

Still… she couldn’t help feeling a little off, as if she wasn’t contributing enough.

“Whatever the case,” Alex spoke up, choosing to be the lone voice of caution, “it’s no excuse to grow careless.”

He turned back to Kron.

“Is there anything else we should know about your world’s power system?”

Kron nodded.

“Our power system is actually very straightforward. The names of each rank come from the unique impression or manifestation associated with that rank.”

Suddenly, Kron released his Internal Energy. A glow spread over his body, similar to the Aura coating of Pangean warriors.

The glow shone silver.

An epiphany struck Alex.

“The rank names come from the colour of your aura? Silver aura for Silver rank?” he deduced. “Would Gold rankers exude gold aura?”

“Yes, exactly,” Kron confirmed with a nod. “As you’ve guessed, Bronze through Gold rankers manifest coloured auras corresponding to their rank. But it doesn’t stop there. The colour also indicates elemental affinity from Silver and above.”

“Your aura has a greenish tint,” Sugud observed. “Your elemental affinity is Wind?”

“Exactly.” Kron nodded again.

“In that case, it’ll be easier for us to pick and choose favourable opponents,” Alex said with a casual smile.

Kron Belloc’s face twitched violently.

In his eagerness to talk about his plane, he had inadvertently revealed something extremely exploitable to Alex and the expedition party.

Still, he forced the concern out of his mind. They would have figured it out eventually — it wasn’t exactly a difficult thing to notice.

“Alright. Keep all of that in mind when you scout the place,” Alex instructed. “Pay particular attention to troop distribution, elemental affinities, weaknesses, and anything else of tactical value.”

Under Udara’s lead, the scout team disappeared into the night.

Unseen and unnoticed, the scout team slipped through Greater Barnsil like silent spectres, gathering every detail worth reporting.

A couple of hours later, they returned to the expedition camp.

Silver crouched and drew a rough outline of the Barnsil region into the dirt using a stick, while Udara pointed out enemy numbers, structural weaknesses, and vulnerabilities the team had uncovered.

Greater Barnsil itself was split into Upper and Lower Barnsil.

Upper Barnsil housed the main fortress — the stronghold under Baron Leland Helton’s control, built to oversee and protect this side of the Luxen Duchy border.

Lower Barnsil consisted of the civilian town nestled beneath the hilltop fortress. Originally just a settlement for the soldiers’ families and a supply depot, it had since grown into a modest town.

Beside the town lay a large external camp, home to the local militia as well as a reinforcement detachment supporting the fortress.

According to the scouts, the Fortress and the Camp together held close to five hundred troops — roughly three hundred in the fortress and just over two hundred in the camp.

However, over four-fifths of them were non-professionals; basic militia and somewhat trained levies.

There were also about sixty ‘elite’ troops, who were barely the equivalent of Pangean Class 0 Trainees.

Only fifty or so soldiers were Professional.

Udara’s briefing also covered all key facilities; signal bells in the Fortress, Town, and Camp, the arrangement of watchtowers, battlements, ramparts, and the placement of defensive equipment.

Alex listened to everything, silently assembling a plan of attack.

He would be the first to admit he wasn’t a seasoned tactician. But between observing actual Fury military officers during his three past campaigns, combined with experience from his previous life’s literature — and more than a few military and stealth games — he knew enough to form a workable strategy.

After laying out the plan in detail, he immediately sensed a shift in the camp.

It wasn’t fear… not exactly. More like gloom. Or rather, reluctance.

His plan involved a bloody massacre. Both the fortress and the camp were manned by what were — from a Pangean perspective — ‘ordinary humans’.

The expedition members hesitated. Even trained warriors balked at the idea of slaughtering low-grade foes who were simply defending their home.

Alex realised he needed to cut this hesitation at the root.

‘Guess it’s time for a pep talk,’ he thought.

He swept his gaze slowly through the group, holding each person’s eyes long enough to ground them… then moved on to the next.

The group quietened as Alex’s gaze swept across them. At last, he looked over his followers… then his wives.

When he finally spoke, his voice carried a calm sincerity.

“My father, the Mad Earl, has a way with words. Before we set out on this expedition, I jokingly asked him for a piece of that ‘wisdom’. Do you know what he told me?”

He didn’t wait for them to answer.

“‘War is a nasty business. It is better to have your head on your neck, and your foes on their knees, than the other way round.'” Alex paused, letting the words sink in. “I don’t know about you, but to me, that is very sound advice.”

His gaze hardened slightly.

“I understand your hesitation. The people in that fortress are ordinary folk — soldiers, yes, but still ordinary. However, make no mistake; they will not hesitate against us. If you give them the chance, they will drive you to your knees and sever your heads from your necks without remorse.”

“It is unfortunate that it has come to this… but this is war. It is either us or them. And I don’t know about you, but I choose us.”

He repeated softly, “War is a nasty business.”

The Mad Earl’s words echoed in every mind present. It wasn’t a fiery speech. It wasn’t meant to uplift. It simply reminded them of reality.

And it worked.

Faces hardened, resolve sharpened, and their hesitation faded.

Alex nodded in quiet satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Kron Belloc stared at the group, utterly speechless. They were outnumbered nearly twenty-five to one, yet these madmen — and madwomen — had actually felt pity for the stronger side.

He couldn’t decide if they were noble… or just insane.

Alex caught the expression and chuckled.

“We number barely twenty-two against a force of five hundred — more than twenty times our number. Some might call us mad for even considering an assault.”

That earned low chuckles from the expedition members — everyone except Kron and Alex’s wives.

Madness was the Fury way, after all.

“They ask, ‘Why do we fight?’ The answer is simple. We fight for fame and fortune. And as the saying goes: Fortune favours the bold. So tell me…” Alex smiled, sharp and confident, “…how can we not fight?”

The group cheered — some shouted, others laughed, some jeered in raw excitement.

Alex let the noise swell, then subtly directed all attention toward their first target.

“Come,” he said, voice dropping into that quiet, dangerous calm. “Fortune awaits.”

And together, the expedition marched — marched toward the Barnsil Militia Camp.

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