Defiance of the Fall: A LitRPG Adventure

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Defiance of the Fall: A LitRPG Adventure Page 41

by TheFirstDefier


  He arrived back at the camper and once again opened up the Town Shop. It was time to start the improvements. First, he bought an [F-Grade Middle-Scale Cosmic Smelting Furnace] for two hundred thousand Nexus Coins, leaving him with a scant twenty thousand Nexus Coins. Luckily, the shops only cost a symbolic sum, as they made their money through trade.

  The purpose of the furnace was to refine various F-graded metals and minerals, and Nexus Crystals were one of the things it could refine. It was an expensive purchase, but Ogras had promised it would be far more profitable to refine the materials by himself before he sold them, as every shop would try to scam him on rates when he sold raw crystals.

  It was a large black box roughly two meters tall and three meters wide. On one side, it had a chute for throwing in the raw materials, and on the other, it had a hole leading out to a large tray. He immediately summoned a sack of crystals and threw the contents into the chute and contentedly watched his wealth grow. It took roughly ten minutes for the whole sack to be processed into crystals, and when they came out, they looked identical to the ones he had stolen long ago. Gone were any defects or rock remains, leaving only unblemished uniform crystals.

  Next, he needed someone to buy his products.

  72

  Thayer Consortium

  Calrin despondently surveyed the various reports strewn about his table. Twenty thousand years of heritage teetered on the brink of destruction, all under his watch. He knew that he was partly to blame for the situation, but others were far more culpable.

  ’Greed is the fuel which pushes us forward. Honor is the compass which keeps the course.’

  That was the creed inlaid under the painting of his ancestor, hung behind him in an ornate frame. He didn’t need to turn around to know the words, or to remember every single detail of his ancestor’s face. The slight upward tug of his mouth, the ever-present Ancient Empire coin in his hand, ceaselessly whirling between his fingers. The mischievous light in his eyes that seemed to see through all lies and posturing.

  Almarillo Thayer was born a beggar in a lowly E-graded world on decline. He had no family, no education, and no prospects, but through his intellect and drive, he managed to become an assistant to a shop clerk. From there, he gained the Assistant class, the first step that ended with him founding the [Thayer Consortium], a System-sanctioned mercantile corporation with branches in hundreds of worlds, and its headquarters located on a bustling C-ranked continent.

  Those awe-inspiring offices were long pawned off, even before Calrin Thayer was born. For the last five hundred years, the company had been in a steady decline. Calrin, with his quick wits and solid business acumen, was chosen to steer the company back on course and was given the chairman position at the young age of eighty. But all he’d accomplished was the reduction of branches from twenty-six to one last struggling location.

  He knew the cause wasn’t only himself. His family remembered the first half of their founder’s creed perfectly well, but the second half had gotten blurred over the years. Shady and shortsighted business practices made them lose a few branches and simultaneously made them quite a few enemies. A few family members even betrayed the Thayer name for personal wealth, and even if they were eventually found out, the damage was already done.

  But the downfall started for real roughly twenty-five years ago. The great Tsarun Clan had turned their avaricious gazes toward the Thayer Consortium. Or rather, at the Mercantile License their founder had gained all those years ago. The license was something awarded by the System and not something that could be forced away or stolen. Even eradicating the whole Thayer family wouldn’t do any good and would even result in a punishment by the System.

  But a business license could be seized through business. Normally, it should be almost impossible to snatch a license from a sanctioned corporation, and it would be far easier to try to gain one through normal means. But between the Thayer Consortium being in tatters and the Tsarun Clan’s vast connections and wealth, they’d actually managed to incrementally bring down their corporation, one world at a time.

  If they lost their last branch as well, the System would void the Thayer Consortium’s license and revoke access to the Multiverse Mercantile System, rendering them completely and utterly powerless. The merchant’s protection they currently enjoyed would disappear as well, and Tsarun clan would begin a wholesale slaughter of the remaining family members. No need to risk a comeback, after all.

  Calrin desperately tried to open up new branches to keep the situation afloat. He had tried every means, such as lowering the requirements or offering great rates on various common resources. He even tried bribing various fledgling city lords, but nothing worked. Between the machinations of the Tsarun’s elders and the awful reputation his consortia had amassed due to multiple scandals, no one would place their branches in their cities. And if they did, it would soon be closed after a visit from a Tsarun clan emissary.

  His intellect strained to find some way out, but the numbers in the reports were clear. In three days, their last branch would be declared defunct, and he would have to flee for his life.

  It was time for one last desperate gambit.

  Zac skipped sleep that night in favor of watching his pile of wealth grow. He unceasingly kept throwing sack after sack of crystals into the chute and then ran over to the other side to gleefully gather the refined crystals. A completely filled bag took roughly ten minutes to completely process, and it resulted in around two hundred finished crystals.

  That meant that the machine could refine almost 30,000 crystals every single day, which should be enough for the mining operations for now. Instead of the numerous sacks, he now carried exactly 11,328 crystals, including the first ones he had stolen.

  In the downtime, he kept training his axe-work. He only dared to use half of his Cosmic Energy to activate the [Axe Mastery] guidance system, leaving the rest as a backup. Then he let his body slowly recharge the energy instead of using any aids.

  The beast hordes were coming, and it was a real possibility he might have to face the sea of monsters without the aid of his skills. He needed to get faster, stronger, and better at using his axe. He remembered how all his moves were in vain against the demon leader. The difference between them hadn’t been skills or attribute points; it was the huge difference in technique.

  Around midnight, the sounds of activity from the shipyard ebbed out, and Zac guessed the transformations were done. He kept going for about another five hours until all the refinement was done. Luckily, the furnace seemed to need neither rest nor maintenance and unceasingly spit out crystals as long as it had something to process.

  The next step was to get a shop to sell the crystals in order to start shoring up the defenses of the town. Since the transformation was complete for the shipyard, he didn’t really need to worry about gossipy shop clerks leaking the secret, but as he opened the Town Shop, he paused after a few seconds.

  Initially, his idea had been to buy the only store that he was able to purchase at the moment, which was the System-run one.

  He was, of course, loath to buy it after hearing about the ridiculous prices since he believed that the System would give equally abysmal rates on crystals as well. Unfortunately, none of the privately run businesses in the Multiverse deemed his island good enough to open up a branch at the moment. However, that had changed since he last checked the store.

  In a sea of red, a green-marked shop had silently appeared, called [Thayer Consortium, Headquarters]. For some reason, this shop was not only ready to open a branch at his island, but it actually wanted to move its headquarters here. When he opened the store, he realized that it wasn’t luck that he somehow managed to fill all its criteria. The Thayer Consortium had removed every single normal restriction such as population and security and only demanded two things. First, they required a far larger space compared to the other shops. Secondly, they required the world to be within three years of integration to the Multiverse.

  At first
glance, it looked like a God-given gift, but he wanted to wait for Ogras before he did anything. If something seemed too good to be true, it usually was. Zac felt that it was fishy that a large corporation would move their headquarters to a place like Earth. Any newly integrated planet should be quite chaotic and poor and should be a bad place to move your business to.

  Perhaps they weren’t actually traders, but rather bandits who wanted to gain access to a new world through the outpost and then start a massacre when they arrived. Even if it was an opportunity, he’d forgo it rather than potentially making a fatal mistake. As it was still quite early, Zac decided to get a few hours of sleep while he waited for Ogras. He simply sat down with his back to the furnace and went to sleep with his axe in hand.

  After who knew how long, Zac was awakened by a loud sound. Immediately alert, he jumped to his feet, axe at the ready. Soon he relaxed as he saw the now familiar face of the demon outside his array. Ogras seemed content to just stand there and idle about, so Zac ventured outside to meet up with him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Basic etiquette not to enter someone’s array without permission. It’s an easy way to get your head cut off,” the demon answered off-handedly. “By the way, impressive work with the little demoness. She’s growing a third horn now in her forehead,” he added with a snicker.

  “Well, tell her I’m sorry about that. Couldn’t have her scream after I left. Anyway, I need to ask you something,” Zac answered with a shrug, and proceeded to share the window of the Thayer Consortium while explaining his concerns.

  “Hmm… Very interesting. You don’t have to worry about them being raiders, as the Ruthless Heavens places extremely strict restrictions on those who use the Mercantile System. Even if a shop clerk turned out to be an A-ranker hegemon in disguise, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to you,” Ogras explained.

  “So isn’t this a great opportunity, then? They demand quite a bit of space, but that shouldn’t be a problem,” Zac eagerly asked.

  “Well, they are merchants for certain, but there is something wrong with them wanting to come here. They likely are escaping something. It’s almost impossible to find a baby world except by going through an incursion, so they are excellent places to hide out in. So if you accept them, you’ll likely have a bunch of refugees rather than well-stocked merchants,” Ogras explained.

  “So kind of like you demons, then?” Zac retorted gruffly, annoyed that the golden opportunity didn’t turn out so golden after all.

  “Cough… well, something like that. The thing is that if they are forced to flee here, they will likely be barely stocked at all with items and crystals and will have an abysmal support system for acquiring treasures in the Multiverse. Only moving their headquarters here might completely clean them out. So even if you wanted to task them with finding some specific item, they’d probably not be able to help you out.”

  “So which should I buy? The system-run store or this Thayer Consortium?” Zac didn’t understand how the so-called Mercantile System worked, and could only ask for directions for now.

  “You should get the headquarters. They are likely desperate for sanctuary and will be extremely weak in negotiations,” Ogras said with a ruthless grin. “After all, since you will pretty much be their only customer for a while, you can single-handedly run them out of business if they don’t comply.”

  Zac felt a bit of sympathy for this Thayer company that was forced to escape some unknown hardship, only to be exploited here on demon island. Well, he didn’t really have a good time being stuck here, so why should anyone else?

  73

  Foundations of a Capital

  Zac and Ogras walked northbound away from the campsite. If they were going to get a compound full of merchant refugees, they couldn’t be too close to the future core of operations of the town. As they walked, Ogras asked about the shipyard, and when he heard that they had somehow transformed to look like humans, he whistled, looking very impressed.

  “You didn’t know they could do that?” Zac asked, confused.

  “Clan Azh’Rezak is a middling family in a D-grade world. The Creators wouldn’t normally even step on C-grade worlds, and all the information about them we have is hearsay. Buying a missive on them from one of the information merchants would have bankrupted us from the expense,” the demon said defensively, looking unhappy that his image of an omniscient veteran of the Multiverse was crackling.

  “Well, now that they are already hidden, wait here a second. Don’t mention anything about Creators,” Ogras said and rushed into the forest without waiting for a response.

  Zac stopped, confused, at his current location, hesitantly looking around. It wasn’t a very good spot for an ambush, so he didn’t feel too worried about waiting there. But he did bring out his axe just in case.

  After a couple of minutes, sounds of footsteps alerted Zac to someone approaching. What made him wary was that it didn’t sound like just one person, but a group. Angered at the betrayal, he got ready for a battle as he looked around for a path of escape if needed.

  He quickly scaled a tree in order to be able to mount an ambush. His pathways were still a problem, so he would have to finish the battle quickly. Ogras should be the strongest demon still alive, and if he managed to quickly execute him, then the rest shouldn’t prove too large a problem.

  Soon he saw a group of ten demons walking behind Ogras as they approached his location. They were almost beneath him, and Zac wordlessly jumped down as he infused his axe with the Dao of Heaviness. With a grunt, he swung down toward Ogras’ head, aiming to quickly cleave him in two.

  “WHAT THE F–” Ogras screamed as he desperately brought out a spear from his pouch. Shadows from all around him gathered into it as he swung it upward to block the incoming axe. The collision of the weapons created a huge shock wave at the level of his battle against the other demon leader, and the group of demons were flung away from the shock wave.

  Ogras was slammed into the ground from the impact, but Zac was thrown away as well. The demon had actually managed to defend against his Dao-empowered strike, although not effortlessly, which showed that his title as leader of the demons was not just for show.

  Suddenly, the demon melded into the ground and appeared twenty meters further away from Zac. He stood up and angrily pointed his spear at him.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Goddamn lunatic!” the demon screamed as he spat out dirt from his mouth.

  “It’s better to get the first strike when getting ambushed,” Zac retorted tersely as he approached the demon.

  “Ambush? With these fucking civilians?” Ogras shouted as he waved his spear at the other demons. They had managed to scramble to their feet and looked completely shell-shocked.

  Zac stopped his approach, and for the first time, he took a good look at the group. Quickly, he realized that he might have made a mistake. They truly looked like a bunch of weaklings. None of them carried a weapon, and two were actually pretty fat. Every single demon he’d fought so far had been in tip-top shape, even the mages. Even more importantly, the little demoness he’d interrogated yesterday was in the group.

  She looked like a deer in headlights, ready to bolt into the woods, but her legs not listening. As Ogras had mentioned, she had a pretty comical bulge in her forehead between her horns from where he’d thwacked her with his axe.

  “What’s going on? Why did you bring a bunch of people here?” Zac asked, a bit embarrassed, but he still didn’t lower his axe. He realized that the last two months had made him too primed for battle, but those were also the habits that had kept him alive.

  “Damn it, almost shat my pants…” Ogras muttered as he put the black spear back into his pouch. “Crazy natives. These people are representatives of the various departments needed to properly run a city,” he continued as he waved at the group, obviously still quite annoyed. “If you just start throwing out buildings randomly, it’s going to look like shit, and problems with things such as in
frastructure and sustainable growth will start cropping up as the town grows. These people will help you make a proper town that can be grown all the way into a world capital if needed.”

  Zac stared mutely at the demons for a second. They looked back with horror at him, no one daring to move an inch, afraid that he would swing his axe at them as well. Zac inwardly groaned, as he had hoped to create a better rapport with the demons now that they were going to work together. But this first impression might have set him back quite a bit in his quest for diplomacy.

  “Well, sorry about that; thought you were here to kill me. I’m Zac,” he awkwardly greeted the group, wondering where his social skills had gone. Had focusing on Strength turned some of his brain cells into more muscles? His greeting received no response as the group mutely stared at him.

  “Uh…” Zac glanced at Ogras, who rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t stare like some country bumpkins! We have work to do,” Ogras snapped, and in the next second, he started taking out a wealth of items.

  First, it was a large mat that covered most of the clearing they were in. Next, he placed a rounded oblong table, large enough to fit everyone present, on it. Next followed chairs, and finally, a red canopy covering the whole area from the glaring suns. Clearly the bag in Ogras’ possession was far better compared to those Zac had stolen so far.

  Zac hesitantly put his axe back into his pouch and sat down on a solitary chair at one of the short sides. Ogras sat down on one of the two chairs that were the closest to him, and what followed was a discreet but energetic melee for the chairs as far as possible from him.

 

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