Aetherborne Chronicles

It had been a little over a hundred years since Frank had made contact with the mercenary group known as the 'Order of Blades.' This specialized group was comprised solely of warriors, with not a single mage among them.

Upon establishing contact, Frank shared everything he knew and expressed his desire to meet with Valorius. However, what he remained unaware of was that valorius had previously scammed this group out of a substantial sum of money. Originally, they had intended to sell Frank on the slave market to recoup a fraction of their losses. Yet, after witnessing his extraordinary prowess and recognizing his potential, the leader of the mercenary group decided against such a sale.

In the years that followed, Frank became the central figure within the Order of Blades. However, as time passed, he grew increasingly insistent on meeting Valorius. To both motivate and placate Frank, the group's leader employed a doppelganger who would impersonate Valorius. To prepare this imposter, the leader meticulously studied all available footage of Valorius. With this ruse in place, Frank continued to work with the group without further inquiry.

Over the course of a century, the mercenary group, initially operating only on a galactic scale, expanded its reach to encompass entire star sectors. During this time, Frank, who had already attained a 3-star level of power when he first joined, further honed his abilities and ascended to a 5-star level.

Frank's latest assignment was a crucial one: protecting a convoy from any potential threats for an extended period of over five years. This was an uncommon arrangement, as mercenaries of Frank's caliber were typically hired for much shorter durations due to their high fees. However, the man who had contracted Frank was not just any client; he was the principal sponsor of Frank's entire mercenary group. This substantial backing allowed for a unique, long-term commitment.

Brandon had urgently summoned Fletcher to his office, causing the already stressed commander to dash over. In the office, Brandon wasted no time inquiring, "How far along is Project 999? You know we have to submit the report soon."

Fletcher swallowed hard; his anxiety palpable. "Sir, the project is nearly complete. We're just awaiting Anthony's awakening. Regarding the report, we can only compile it once we've run tests with him conscious."

"Excellent. At least I didn't have to wait for years this time for results," Brandon remarked with a touch of sarcasm. "Once he wakes up, expedite the tests; we need to deliver that report as swiftly as possible. Now, you may leave."

However, as Fletcher was about to exit, Brandon stopped him. "Hold on a moment. I've hired a group of mercenaries. Ensure they are treated exceptionally well," he instructed before dismissing Fletcher.

In a remote, uninhabited corner of a planet lay an astonishing sight-a multitude of monsters lay dead, their demise shrouded in mystery. The sheer number of deceased creatures reached into the billions, and this was only one side of the planet. On the other side, Rager was locked in what could hardly be called a battle; it was more of a relentless massacre. He systematically dispatched thousands of monsters, their bodies hitting the ground before they could even react.

This relentless slaughter had been Rager's way of life for over a year. His journey to this planet was a quest to refine his fighting skills. As he continued his merciless onslaught, his phone began to buzz incessantly. Ignoring it for the moment, he focused on eliminating the monsters around him.

After the last creature had fallen, he finally checked his phone. A message from the family had come through. It instructed him to journey to a planet known as Strapus B42. His mission was to meet an individual from planet Corth 5LU who would provide him with a report and demonstrate the power of a successful test subject. With the majority of the planet's monster population nearly eradicated, Rager had already made up his mind to depart soon.

As the days of rest passed, Frank's employer finally decided to leave the planet. Opting for discretion, they chose to travel in a single spaceship cleverly disguised as a merchant vessel. The ship was set on a course for planet Strapus B42, carrying a total of three other individuals besides Frank himself.

Several weeks had passed since Adam and his squad's arrival on the planet. Initially, there was a sense of wariness among them, as the prospect of work loomed over their heads. However, as days turned into weeks and there was no sign of any activity or Eternity-related issues, a sense of relaxation settled in.

The planet had only one city, which made it convenient for the squad, as they didn't need to divide their attention or spread their resources thin. However, this lack of prior information about the mission posed a significant disadvantage compared to their first mission.

At this moment, everyone in the squad had chosen to take a break, enjoying the warmth of the sun as they lounged on the beach, appreciating the brief respite from their usual tasks.

Beneath the gentle embrace of the sun's rays, the squad members discovered a moment of calm amid the tranquil surroundings. The rhythmic symphony of waves caressing the shore served as a soothing soundtrack to their leisurely respite. It was a precious break, a chance to rejuvenate after weeks filled with uncertainty and constant vigilance.

Carey had sought out a quiet spot near the shoreline, sitting cross-legged and contemplating the boundless ocean's horizon. Her trusty sniper rifle rested nearby, a silent sentinel. Nearby, Zephyr, Chris, and Lycus indulged in a friendly game of beach volleyball, their laughter harmonizing with the peaceful setting.

As for Ishmael, ever the vigilant one, he perched atop a substantial rock, engaged in meditation with closed eyes. His connection to mana remained unwavering, and soft incantations occasionally escaped his lips, a subtle reinforcement of his magical prowess.

Meanwhile, Adam stretched out luxuriously on a beach towel, sunglasses resting on his nose to shield his eyes from the sun's brilliance. He lay next to Zara, both of them enjoying the soothing warmth of the sunlight. Brutus, like a vigilant guardian, stood watch nearby.

During Adam's first mission on the planet Pandora 9, Brutus lost one of his hands. Thanks to magic, his hand had been miraculously regenerated, but he had begun using a protective handguard to prevent any future injuries.

These handguards were cutting-edge technology designed to instantly replicate a lost hand if there was a possibility of it being ripped apart. The replacement hand was identical to the original, with no discernible difference in shape, form, or sensation for the user. The only drawback was that it could only be used three times. Given the high cost of this advanced technology, Brutus might not have been able to afford one under normal circumstances. However, thanks to Kozz's mission, the team had accumulated a substantial number of points, making the purchase possible.

While the rest of the team enjoyed their mission vacation, Boyd was the lone half-worker among them. The half-working state meant he combined his duties with the occasional sip of a drink. He sat sipping a drink, his eyes fixed on a screen displaying a multitude of data points. His task was to monitor the network system on the planet, watch for shifts in weather patterns, and even keep an eye on changes in the planet's core. Boyd meticulously analyzed every conceivable element that might reveal anomalies.

Suddenly, Boyd bolted out of his monitoring station, compelled to relay urgent news about unexpected shifts in the planet's atmosphere and tectonic activity. He sprinted out of the building, to inform both the squad and Ishmael. As he reached the doorway, he was met by the sight of Ishmael and Chris, both of them gazing intently at the southern horizon-the exact direction where the anomaly had just manifested.

Startled by the commotion from the building, both Ishmael and Chris turned their attention toward Boyd, who affirmed their concerns with a nod. "It's not a typical monster. No creature on this planet possesses that level of strength. This could be related to Eternity, and whoever it is, they're stronger than a typical 4-star level," Boyd informed them.

Chris, taken aback by the revelation, questioned, "Even stronger than me?"

"Yes, and approaching the leader's level," Boyd confirmed. He quickly moved on to a suggestion, "We should take action immediately before they finalize whatever their transaction is and manage to escape."

Their conversation had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the squad, as the sound of their discussion had reached their ears from a distance. The other members of the team quickly congregated around Ishmael, Chris, and Boyd, ready to address the imminent threat.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side, Anthony had just showcased his formidable power to Rager. With a display of his abilities, he had effortlessly reduced a nearby mountain to rubble. Witnessing the extent of the destruction, Rager, who had maintained an impassive expression until then, couldn't help but furrow his brows. The ease with which Anthony had unleashed such destructive force left Rager contemplating the gap between his capabilities and what Anthony had demonstrated.

"See, it's as simple as that," Anthony remarked, producing a small chip from his pocket and handing it over to Rager. "This chip contains all the necessary data you'll require. Don't forget to send the requested items."

Rager took the chip, his hand brushing against it as he pocketed it. As he did so, he sensed a sudden change in the readings from the detectors he had strategically placed. Anthony also reacted to the shift in the atmosphere, his gaze turning back to Frank and his group of mercenary allies. "Prepare yourselves. It might be people from the Council," he advised, pulling his hood over his head in a manner that obscured his features from any potential onlookers, ensuring their anonymity.

Frank, who had been calmly seated on a nearby rock, sprang into action. With a swift movement, he grabbed the twin swords that had been resting beside him. As he rose, determination ignited in his eyes, and he set off toward the northern section of the area. His jog steadily escalated into a full-fledged run, his pace building momentum. Sensing the impending confrontation, his heart raced with anticipation.

The rhythm of his strides synchronized with his breath as he charged forward, the wind whipping through his hair. His muscles flexed with each step, propelling him with undeniable force. As he neared the edge of a cliff, he summoned his strength for a leap. His body soared through the air, a testament to his mastery of his physical abilities. During his aerial ascent, he bent backward, his feet almost brushing against his back, maximizing his kinetic energy. In his hands, his twin swords gleamed with a radiant blue hue, exuding an aura of raw power.

Time seemed to stretch as Frank's aerial maneuver continued. His body hung suspended, covering a remarkable distance within a mere fraction of a second. Hovering directly above the Council's spaceship, his calculated trajectory allowed him to descend with pinpoint precision. Like a plummeting meteor, he descended at breakneck speed, his swords poised for a devastating strike.

The Council's spaceship, equipped with protective shields and reinforced by an additional layer of magical shield, was prepared for a potential confrontation. Yet, the sheer force behind Frank's dual sword slash was beyond expectations. The protective layers of the ship's defenses strained and crackled under the impact, struggling to contain the immense power unleashed by his blades. A spectacular collision ensued as the protective shields gave way, culminating in a resounding explosion of energy.

As a result, the spaceship, now vulnerable and off-balance, descended in a chaotic, uncontrolled manner, finally crashing violently into the unforgiving ground below. The colossal impact sent shockwaves rippling through the area, the ship's metallic frame groaning and creaking under the stress of the crash. Smoke billowed from the damaged vessel, creating a chaotic scene of destruction.