Desmond Farina stood aside, leaning against the paneled wall. For the most part, the Inner Council ignored him, though that was the way he liked it. After all, he’d picked the Ranger archetype for a reason. He preferred to stay out of sight, to manipulate events from the shadows, and his Darkblade class reflected that nature.

Still, other men might have been galled at the blatant exclusion. He was the leader of the fifth strongest guild in the city, which meant that he led one of the most powerful organizations in the world. And yet, he was relegated to the proverbial kid’s table where all the other also-rans pretended they had a say in world events.

They did not.

Certainly, the Inner Council allowed them to dictate meaningless statutes and standards, but the Small Hall had almost as little true power as the wider members of the Four Corners Accord.

That was Desmond’s current situation, though unlike all the others, that was how he liked it. Sure, his votes weren’t terribly important, but he was high enough in the rankings to have at least some voice. On top of that, it put him in the vicinity of those four at the top, and he knew precisely how to pull their strings.

Calling them puppets would be going too far, but he did have quite a lot of influence with each of them. And when push came to shove, he could get what he wanted out of them.

One way or another.

But at the moment, he wasn’t focused on the posturing fools who called themselves the Inner Council. Instead, his eyes were trained on the monster in their midst. Normally, Davu was the most powerful man in New York. Level one-seventy-two, and with a special talent of cultivation – he was a terror on any battlefield. And he’d proven his might so many times that no one even thought to question it.

But Elijah Hart made Davu look like an amateur.

Desmond had no idea what level Elijah was, but it didn’t really matter. He could feel the Druid’s power, and in a tangible way that could not be ignored. On top of that, Hart had cleared three Primal Realms when most people hadn’t even attempted to enter such terrifying scenarios.

In the lead-up to the meeting, Chelsea had called the man a walking weapon of mass destruction. At the time, Desmond had doubted her words. She wasn’t prone to exaggeration, but it was difficult to believe that a single man could hold so much power. Now that Desmond had caught sight of Hart, he thought that, if anything, she’d underestimated him.

And that was terrifying.

Hart took the offered seat, his odd eyes flicking from one person to the next. He even noticed Desmond lurking in the corner. Most people wouldn’t have. He hadn’t engaged a stealth skill, but his nature meant that the shadows clung to him. He could fade into the background of any room, and without even using an ability.

But Elijah Hart saw him.

“Chester gave me the rundown of your setup here,” the man said, sitting languidly. It wasn’t an act, either. He truly didn’t feel threatened by the powerful people all around him. Idly, Desmond wondered if the suit Hart wore was the same one he’d worn during the massacre of Bloodrock Bay. “It’s impressive. A recent development?”

Gix leaned forward. “Many of the guilds formed elsewhere. Only when the Conclave Spires became available did we begin to organize into a larger alliance,” she said. “I hear that you have developed a partnership with a goblin. Smart. Very smart.”

Desmond had never liked her. She was self-important and frustratingly dismissive of anyone she considered her inferior. And considering what she thought of herself, that was basically everyone.

Her guild – the Red Knights – were a powerful force, though. Composed almost entirely of goblins, they had come to Earth on a mission. Gix had never revealed what had prompted the move, but it was clear that they were running from something. That was true of every settler who’d come from other worlds, though.

Shanala exhaled sharply, letting her elven dignity slip for only the briefest of seconds. For anyone else, it would have been an angry shout. She led the Crusaders, a surprisingly diverse guild that only cared about competency. Everything else, including race or planet of origin, was just window dressing – at least as far as Shanala was concerned.

But Desmond understood the elf’s annoyance. Only a few moments into the meeting, and Gix had already broken away from their agreed-upon strategy of presenting a unified front.

And from the way Hart’s almost-reptilian eyes flicked from one to the other, he read the tension as well as anyone could have.

Davu spoke up, obviously trying to get the meeting back on track. “Our origins aside, how have you found New York? I hear you had a run-in with our local police.”

“Took a short walk through Central Park. Saw an old friend. You know, the usual,” Hart said, his tone infuriatingly casual. From what Desmond had heard, the meeting had been fraught with tension that was only relieved because Hart knew the hunter they’d hired to deal with the situation in the park. “Heading in there once we’re done. You know, to check things out.”

“You do us a great service,” said Ram Khandu, the snake. If there was one person Desmond hated more than any other, it was Ram Khando. His guild, Indra’s Edge, was only one spot higher than the League of Ancients, but Ram lorded that fact over Desmond like there was an enormous gulf between them. In reality, they were all but equal in terms of power, and the only reason Indra’s Edge stood above the League of Ancients was because the Four Corners Accord had to draw the line somewhere.

“Not really. Just helping out a friend.”

Davu cleared his throat. “I am certain you are a busy man, Mr. Hart. We should address business.”

“Not sure what there is to address, really. I thought I hammered things out with Chelsea. Where is she, by the way?” Hart asked.

“Regrettably, she is not part of this council, and she is otherwise engaged. The Primal Realms wait for no one,” Davu stated evenly. “That is the crux of the matter, is it not? They are a danger, but they are also an opportunity. I’m sure you can agree, given your treatment of…Chimera Island as a resource to be exploited.”

Hart nodded. “I don’t really see them that way, but sure. I can grant that others might. The fort on Chimera Island isn’t there so Ironshore can take advantage of the leveling opportunity represented by the Primal Realm. It’s there to protect my tree.”

Then, he went on to explain the nature of said tree. Desmond had heard it all before, but he was still a little awestruck that anything could so efficiently siphon ethera from the Primal Realms. But through his sources in Seattle, he’d already confirmed that the theories behind it were sound. Moreover, according to the spies in Ironshore, the implementation of those theories had been successful. The ethereal density around the Primal Realm known as the Chimeric Forge was stable.

Which meant that Hart’s plan would work.

And in turn, that confirmed that the guilds needed to work with him if they wanted to take full advantage of the situation. After all, there was no way they could keep them under wraps alone. Not yet. Even with the full might of the Four Corners Accord behind them – and that was hundreds of guilds with tens of thousands of members – they just couldn’t clear them fast enough to keep them from growing too strong.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

If they could clear them at all.

According to Chelsea, that was no sure thing. She felt confident that, eventually, they could have made a run at the Elemental Maelstrom, but it would have taken a year or more to get to that point. That timeframe just didn’t work. Not when they needed to repeat the process over and over again indefinitely.

Even now, the forces of Heaven’s Bastion in Hong Kong had fallen far behind. The power of the Desolate Reach was growing with every passing day it wasn’t conquered. And though Song Tianwei’s people had managed to defeat it a couple of times, each instance was stronger than the last. Soon, they’d be back where they started, with undead flooding their city and threatening to wipe them out.

The same pattern would repeat across the world unless they figured out a way to stem the flow of ethera.

That was where Hart and his trees came in.

Of course, the Druid wasn’t the only person working on a way to drain those Primal Realms. The Engineers in Seattle were looking for a way. So were the Tradesmen and Scholars of every guild in New York. Presumably, there were other ongoing efforts across the world.

And it was possible, too. The outworlders had all but confirmed that towers and Primal Realms were heavily regulated on most established worlds. They just hadn’t brought that technology – or the means to understand it – with them.

Which meant that, so far, Elijah Hart was the only person who could solve the problem. So, not only was he the strongest man in the world – what Desmond felt confirmed that fact – he also held the key to controlling the most potent leveling resource on the planet.

In short, he was necessary.

When Hart finished his explanation, he revealed, “But I can’t be with them at all times. They’re powerful natural treasures. People will want to uproot them and use them for their own purposes. I need help protecting them.”

“What of Ironshore?” asked Gix.

“Ironshore is an ally. I work with them when possible, but they don’t have the resources to spread across the globe,” Hart stated. “You do. The question is what you want in exchange.”

Davu leaned forward. “That is the crux of the matter, is it not? You want something from us.”

“And you want something from me, too. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here,” Hart reasoned. “I want this to be cordial. I want to help the world. But let me be clear about something – I have a backup plan for if this planet doesn’t survive. If it’s excised or overrun, I have options. Do you?”

It was obvious that no one did. Desmond had no idea what drove Shanala and Gix to leave their planets, but he was reasonably certain that they couldn’t just go back. And the same was true of just about every other settler who’d come to Earth. And as for Davu and Ram – or Desmond himself, come to that – Earth was home. The notion of fleeing to another world was unthinkable.

And none of them could afford it, either. Even traveling from one city to the next via the Branch’s teleportation system was enough to bankrupt the wealthiest individuals. Using it to go to another world was well beyond any of their means.

“What do you want?”

“Mostly? The same thing everyone else on Earth wants – to avoid the planet being excised. You’re already working on going into the Primal Realms, but I want to know when you find new ones,” he said. “I don’t care if you claim them. Or whatever it is you want to call it. So long as you can clear them, that’s fine. But if you can’t, I need to know. I’m not going to just stand by and let the planet die because you all want to hoard leveling resources.”

“Fair enough,” Davu said. “Sharing information seems reasonable. What else?”

Then, Hart went on to explain that when he planted one of his trees, he expected the guilds to protect them. That was as anticipated, and everyone there was amenable to the idea. However, deals went both ways, and the guild had some demands of Hart as well.

The first was simple enough – that he would respect their claims and try to avoid killing their people. To everyone’s relief, he agreed to that, provided that the guilds’ members weren’t hostile.

“I’m not going to endure insults,” Hart stated. “If someone is stupid enough to challenge me, then they’ll get what they get. If it continues to happen, I’ll hold their superiors accountable. One or two incidents can be chalked up to simple stupidity, but if it’s a pattern…well, I’ll treat it accordingly.”

He left unsaid what that meant, but they were all well aware of what he’d done to Bloodrock Bay. No one wanted a repeat of that incident.

The second of the Inner Council’s demands was a little trickier, as explained by Gix.

“There is a war on our doorstep,” she stated. “Still hundreds of miles away, but troubling nonetheless. Many of our resources are…occupied with the Primal Realms. We are spread too thin, and despite our power…”

“They pose a significant threat to New York,” Davu stated.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Hart asked. “Your city’s protection is your own problem.”

“I don’t disagree, but –”

“From what I can tell, you’re all pretty strong. I’m sure you can handle it. I’m not a mercenary,” he stated, his eyes flashing with white light. It was only a brief flicker, but it made Desmond’s heart jump into his throat. “I’m not your employee, and I will not be sent to handle your problems just so you can avoid dealing with them yourself. If this is a sticking point, then so be it. I’m certain there are other alliances available to me.”

Left unsaid was that he needed no such alliances. For all their power, what the guilds offered was more of a convenience than a necessity for someone like Hart.

Thankfully, the Inner Council understood that.

“Very well,” Davu conceded. “We will give you the information. If you do happen to stumble upon this army during your travels, we would appreciate any intelligence you can gather. We do not expect you to fight our battles for us, though. We are more than capable of defending the city on our own.”

That was only partially true, Desmond knew. The army in question was a scourge upon the land, and the threat of excisement had pushed the guilds to overextend their forces into unclaimed territories. Perhaps they had enough people to defend the city, but it would be a close thing.

“I could do that,” Hart said, the light in his eyes dimming. “Just don’t expect anything.”

Desmond’s pace slowed back to normal. He’d investigated the situation in Bloodrock Bay – and Seattle – himself, so he knew precisely what Hart was capable of. Would he destroy them all over a simple request? Maybe not. But there was a chance that the presumption would set him off. And nobody could afford that.

Almost as if he’d read Desmond’s mind, Hart asked, “What about Seattle? I saw some of their cannons at the docks. What is New York’s relationship with them?”

“Adversarial but peaceful,” Shanala answered. “There is trade, but militarily, we are entirely separate.”

“So, if Isaiah decides he wants to kill me, what would be your response?” Hart asked.

“To stay out of it entirely,” Davu said. “We are neutral unless stated otherwise. Our focus is on towers and Primal Realms. We will protect New York, but we do not seek out conflict with other settlements, kingdoms, or empires. It is not our purpose.”

In the end, the entire goal was to keep Hart from opposing them. Everything else was just icing on the cake.

“Good. I don’t have anything against Seattle. Nice town. But Isaiah needs to learn that there are just some things he can’t control.”

“Agreed,” Davu stated. And the others did as well. If nothing else, they were all familiar with the Seattle leader’s tendency to overstep. At present, he wanted to put his fingers in every pot when it would serve him well to simply stick to his own city. Eventually, someone other than Elijah Hart would need to slap him down, and that someone would probably end up being the Four Corners Accord.

“Alright then – is there anything else? If not, then I’m just going to head out. I have a hunting trip with a friend, you know.”

“Do you not want to sign –”

“No signings. You have my word that so long as you don’t mess with my stuff, I’ll try not to kill your guild members,” Hart said. Then, he added, “I’ll be planting the new tree near the Elemental Maelstrom soon. I hope you’ll let your people know.”

With that, Hart left the room.

It was only after he’d been gone for a full minute that Shanala let out a deep sigh. “Do you know what that was?” she asked.

“Just a man,” Davu answered.

“No. That was a natural disaster personified. Did you not feel it? Did you not see his eyes?” she asked, taking another deep breath. “That was no human.”

“We have it on good authority that he was born on Earth,” Ram said.

Shanala shook her head. “That may be true, but I know a dragon when I see one. When I feel one.”

Dragon.

Desmond had done some research into the elder races, so he had some idea what that word meant. What’s more, Elijah Hart’s performance in the Primal Realms made more sense if he was one of those powerful creatures.

“How?” Davu asked.

Shanala shrugged her delicate shoulders. “I do not know. We would do well to hold up our end of the bargain so we do not anger him unnecessarily.”

“Bargain,” Ram muttered, letting his façade slip. He might play the dandy, but he was as ruthless a man as any Desmond had ever met. “It felt like we didn’t accomplish a thing.”

“We did what we came to do. He won’t oppose us. That’s the best we can hope for for now,” Gix countered.

“And in the future?”

“Who knows what that may hold?” Davu asked. “We must focus on what we can control. The Primal Realms.”

Ram added, “And Seattle. They are forming their own alliance.”

“I am aware,” Davu said. “But we mustn’t create problems where there are none. We will work with them so long as they do not counter our purpose.”

“Agreed,” Gix said.

Shanala added her consent.

Meanwhile, Ram simmered. He was an ambitious man, and he wanted nothing more than for the guilds to rule the world. Thankfully, he lacked the power to put any plan into motion. He was contained by his own ineptitude.

And maybe it would be his downfall, facilitating the rise of another guild in his place. Number four certainly looked good to Desmond. Perhaps it was time for him to step out of the shadows.