Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: Flames Tear the Valley
Section One: Iron Bones Ignite
The wind in the ruins grew colder, sand hissing through broken rebar like countless rusted knives, scraping low hums in the air. Night pressed Iron Valley into a black sea of waste. Yet, in this silence, fire glowed. Steel Gate, Iron Valley's fiercest mining gang, lit torches like inverted spears, illuminating their makeshift camp's stone walls.
Jason, Maria, and Wei Ran crouched behind a shattered wall, observing the camp from two hundred meters. Firelight flickered, revealing Steel Gate's men—crude firearms in hand, modified axes at waists, heavy miner armor scarred with battle marks.
Maria squinted, "Post-Protector War, they absorbed stragglers. Numbers up thirty percent."
Wei's rope coiled around his wrist, "Guns are real, axes truer. Rush in, half your life's gone."
Jason didn't turn, eyes slicing through patrol patterns, sharp as peeled rust.
Steel Gate—Iron Valley's most brutal. Born from mining, ruled by violence. Their axe victims could pile into the tallest ruin mound.
Jason whispered, "Split. Flank infiltration. Central breach."
Maria drew her blade, its glint vanishing fast. Wei gripped his rope, thumb tracing knots, each fiber bone-cutting. Seventeen converts split left and right, securing gear, code tags tucked in shoulder guards, embers in bone seams.
Maria led seven right, through ruins. Wei took seven left, down a broken building. Jason, with three, aimed center.
No words in the ruins—only cloth brushing sand, boots crunching glass faintly.
Steel Gate's patrols shifted. A rusted rooftop sentry waved a torch, a blind man's cane.
Jason crouched at the ruins' edge, fingers tapping, "Breach at southeast corner. Two minutes."
Maria crouched, blade hidden in her sleeve. Wei lowered, rope slithering like a coiling snake.
Countdown ticked in their minds. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight.
Jason eyed the southeast breach—a collapsed stone pile tearing a narrow gap, barely wide enough to sidle through. Enough.
Five seconds. Four. Three.
The rooftop sentry yawned, torch swaying, briefly lighting the breach.
Maria moved—shadow, snake—gliding low, blade pulsing like a code tag.
Wei darted past a ruin, rope snaring a beam, an eagle diving.
Jason stepped through sand, boots silent, not running—walking into firelight.
At the breach, two Steel Gate patrols smoked against a wall. They stirred, heads lifting.
Maria's blade flashed, slitting the left man's throat. Blood sprayed, body slumping, no cry.
The right man gasped, reaching for his gun. Wei's rope snapped, coiling his neck, snapping it. The corpse hit sand, dust rising.
Jason stepped over, boots splashing blood-mud, no glance back.
The breach opened. Maria and Wei surged in. Jason pierced center.
The camp was chaotic—shift change, guns racked, many hands empty, only axes at waists.
Maria hissed, "Two-minute window."
Wei's rope clicked. Jason nodded, "Shatter the perimeter. Force chaos."
Maria struck a gun rack, blade slicing four throats. Blood splattered guns, rust and gore mingling.
Wei cut patrol lines, rope strangling, bodies arcing in collapse.
Jason aimed for the command zone—a shack with Steel Gate's black flag, iron-wired, wolf head bloodstained. Inside sat Logg Kain, mid-tier leader, iron mask half-lit, eyes dead-fish, sharpening a knife beside a hammer-axe.
Jason didn't shout, drawing a heavy blade, cold glint charging.
Logg reacted, flipping the table, grabbing his axe, swinging with a howl.
Jason dodged, blade stabbing Logg's shoulder.
Logg parried, axe smashing ground, stones flying.
Jason stepped back, calm. Logg panted, eyes feral.
Chaos spread. Maria's team felled a dozen. Wei's rope reaped the perimeter.
Steel Gate rallied, axes drawn, rooftop gunners aiming, fire flashing.
Maria warned, "Guns moving!"
Jason's eyes sharpened, "Break their spine first."
Wei signaled. Left flank pulled code bombs—palm-sized, lit, thrown.
Explosions roared, half the building collapsed, gunners flung, rolling off.
Maria slashed a miner's knee, throat next, blood fountaining.
Wei's rope caught two runners, strangling, blood pooling.
Jason faced Logg, air thick with blood and rust.
Logg growled, "Fire Trust? You lunatics—"
Jason, cold, "No trust in fire, trust in blood."
He pointed his blade, "Test your bones' strength."
---
Section Two: Iron Bones Bleed
Fire raged in Steel Gate's camp, blood pooling, seeping into cracked earth, too much for sand to drink. Corpses fell—armless, legless—blood spraying from stumps, staining axes, scrap guns, shattered armor, reddening ruins.
Jason stood before the shack, blade on Logg Kain. Wind lifted his cloak, revealing a pulsing code tag—not life, but fire.
Logg gripped his axe, iron gauntlet creaking, half-masked face fire-red, twisted.
Jason lunged, silent, a knife in rot.
Logg swung, axe tearing air.
Jason sidestepped, blade stabbing Logg's ribs. Logg parried, axe sweeping.
Jason retreated, blood-mud splashing, eyes ash-ember cold.
Logg roared, "Fire Trust? Fooling the dead?"
Jason, flat, "Not fooling lives. Burning them."
Logg bellowed, axe smashing down. Jason charged, blade aiming throat.
The axe fell, wind howling. Jason slid, blade shifting—not throat, but leg.
Steel sliced Logg's knee tendon. He crashed, kneeling, roaring, axe forcing Jason back.
Jason stepped back, blood-mud spraying, gaze unyielding.
Logg rose, leg dragging, panting, mask hiding despair.
Elsewhere, slaughter intensified.
Maria's team carved camp's heart, blades slitting throats, limbs flying, crushed in mud.
A miner charged with a hammer. Maria met him, severing his wrist. The hammer fell, ringing. He screamed, kicked over, throat slashed, blood arcing.
She spun, cutting another's knee, blade tracing spine, blood dripping, staining code shards.
Wei's team cleared edges, rope strangling runners, bodies piling like altar bones.
Wei's eyes hardened, blood on face un wiped, rope flicking, striking again.
Rooftop gunners were nearly gone, but camp's miners rallied, counterattacking.
Core Steel Gate warriors, hammer-wielding, heavy-armored, charged.
Maria exhaled, blade raised. Wei's jaw clenched, rope steel-tight.
Jason and Logg deadlocked.
Logg, leg useless, swung wildly, not to win, but to drag Jason to death.
Jason closed, blade parrying, stabbing. Logg faltered, breaths bellows.
He lunged, axe at Jason's chest. Jason shifted, blade piercing Logg's shoulder, crushing bone.
Logg screamed, axe falling, knees sinking in blood-mud, eyes frantic.
Jason stood over him, blade on his artery, "Fire or death?"
Logg struggled, blood pouring, leg broken, shoulder shattered, collapsing.
Jason twisted, blade slicing throat. Blood gushed, body slumping, pooling, seeping past the shack.
Jason sheathed, exhaling, code tag blood-soaked, pulsing—not life, but Fire Trust, faith.
Maria's team faced core warriors, blades useless against armor. Maria hissed, "Core bombs, throw."
Teammates lit palm-sized explosives, tossing them.
Bombs erupted, armor shredding, flesh pulped, limbs and guts flying in firelight. Blood splattered, sand rose, air scorched.
Wei struck, rope strangling a kneeling warrior, neck snapping, body crashing, blood frothing.
Five minutes—Steel Gate's counter crushed, ruins lit by blood and limbs.
Maria stepped over corpses to Jason. Wei wiped face, blood and sand streaking like beast scars.
Jason lifted a bloodied code tag, pulsing faintly, "Steel Gate joins fire."
Maria smirked. Wei flicked rope, sand scattering.
---
Section Three: Blood Oath Shatters Valley
Fire licked corpse piles, reeking of burnt flesh and rust. Sand flaked like dried blood crust.
Steel Gate was gone—not routed, but minced into ash and bone.
Maria crossed corpse mounds, blade bloodied. Wei tapped rope, wrist red. Jason crouched, lifting Logg's cracked, charred axe, blade scorched.
His thumb bled along its edge, voice scraping, "Broken bones can't guard the valley."
Maria sheathed. Wei knelt, rope coiling like dead snake skin. Seventeen converts emerged, holding bloodied axes.
No words, only fire's crackle, flesh-bone bursts.
Jason rose, blood dripping, rippling in blood pools.
He raised axe, firelight twitching on cracked steel, "Form ranks."
Maria signaled, sharp. Converts knelt in blood. Maria knelt, blade across knee. Wei crouched, knife ready.
Jason stood before corpses, fire behind, blood-mud ahead, driving axe into log. Blood seeped, marrow-like.
"Blood locks faith," he rasped. "Bone roots oaths."
He smeared blood on axe, a blood-sacrifice veil, "Today's bone-breakers swear by blood. Valley betrayers burn."
Maria's gaze chilled. Wei's rope tightened, strangling air. Converts pressed foreheads to blood-mud, unflinching.
Jason lifted a cracked code tag, wiping it with axe blood, pulses flickering, heart's last beat.
He stabbed it into blood-mud, earth swallowing half, pulses faint, "Today's rankers, blood-marked."
Converts slashed palms, blood dripping on tags, ground, mud.
Maria said, "No blood on bone, no faith."
Wei smirked, "No bone in faith, burn."
Converts smeared blood, tags pulsing, Fire Trust's heart.
Jason pressed ground tag, firelight cold, "Rank bones, swear oaths. Burn bodies, hearts. Fire Trust cracks valley."
The tag flared, blood earth trembling, fire eating bone.
Corpses burned fiercer, flames tearing iron. Ruins burned, Fire Trust burned.
Jason scanned converts, eyes knifing, none daring look up.
Maria hissed, "Clear."
Wei's rope spun, team scattering—searching corpses, collecting tags, armor, guns, scraps, tossing bodies into fire.
Fire dyed sky, code pulses twinkling like stars.
Converts knelt, blood crusting, bones in mud.
Jason lifted Logg's axe, gazing at Iron Valley's horizon.
Maria asked, "Next?"
Jason nodded, "Burn next."
---
Section Four: Blood and Bone Path
Flames roared, ash rising. Blood dried, corpses charred, code tags pulsing stubbornly, declaring Fire Trust's roots.
Jason sheathed, cloak's bone-shard tags swaying. Maria walked, blade blood-stained. Wei coiled rope, thumb tapping, eyes ice. Seventeen converts marched, shadows twisted by fire, scarred.
Blood-scorched wind flowed to Iron Valley's edge—Mistveil Court.
Maria whispered, "Mistveil's defenses weak—black-market gamblers, kill-hungry, discipline rotten."
Wei grinned, rope taut, "Kill-hungry, bones tough. Tough bones, perfect for smashing."
Jason signaled halt, crouching, sifting blood-mud sand, "Enter, trade bones for bets."
Maria smirked. Wei twirled rope, marking skin.
Converts hid code tags in armor, pulses veiled, weapons glinting—blades, broken guns, hammers, blood-crusted axes.
Maria donned a gambler's cloak, hood low. Wei stripped gang patches, rope black at waist. Jason tore cloak, revealing worn armor, scavenger-like.
Night deepened, Mistveil's flickering signs visible—dying dog gasps, gray light, bloodied handprints, cracked masks.
Mistveil—Iron Valley's black heart. Fight pits, black markets, bloodbaths, arms smuggling, money laundering. No faith, only life's gamble.
Jason let sand fall, "Go, bet big."
Maria touched blade, "How?"
Wei exhaled, sand scattering, "Bet whose bones break loudest."
Converts split into three, infiltrating.
Wind froze, blood-stench knifing bones.
Jason, Maria, and Wei slipped through a rusted pipe, tiles and blood like cursed runes, steps silent.
The pipe led to Mistveil's black-market alley, garbage reeking, stinging eyes. Gamblers cursed around barrel fires, betting bottles, finger bones.
Maria lowered hood, fingers on hilt. Wei tucked rope in rags. Jason scanned corners.
Alley's end held a collapsed wall, fight pit roars echoing—blows, cheers, flesh tearing, dogs ripping, gamblers howling.
Jason paused, "Scout pit, find a crack."
Maria nodded, "Gamblers crave fresh blood. We'll deliver."
Wei grinned, rust-knife slicing flesh.
They reached wall gap, peering at Mistveil's main pit.
Iron bars ringed center stage, gamblers packed stands, reeking of smoke, gripping bottles, knives. Blood and booze stained.
In the pit, a bare-chested fighter knelt, spine gashed, bone exposed. His foe pressed a rusted blade to vertebrae, gamblers roaring, blood-scenting mad dogs.
Maria hissed, "Enter, fight."
Jason signaled. Wei slipped through, Maria followed, Jason last.
They blended, unnoticed—eyes only saw blood, rips.
A blade sliced, kneeling man's neck split, blood gushing. He twitched, fell, stands erupting.
Blood thickened air, mud-heavy.
Jason eyed pit blood, "Place bets. Stake Fire Trust."
Maria touched blade, "Bet their lives. Lose one, burn one."
Wei's rope hissed, "Crush all bones."
Next fight loomed, new gamblers dragged in.
Not strangers—but them. Jason, Maria, Wei, Fire Trust's new life-gamblers.
They stepped into blood, into Mistveil's life-or-death pit.