The Magisterium is a Pathseeker-business mega company. Zetel was where they sprouted into being centuries ago. Now, they have no competition in the continent. They are so large that their influence and clout rivals or even supersedes the nation of Zetel itself.

  The company swallows the resources from nature in the manner of a Behemoth, not heeding the consequences. As long as there is profit to be made, what does it matter if the rivers dried up or the desert killed arable lands? The businessmen sold water and bought cheap real estate instead and their wallets rejoiced.

  Like fungi the Magisterium spreads, raising their towers to mine the resources and produce goods for sale at home and abroad. Each of these towers is a branch of the company. The Tower Master, those who distinguished themselves in the inner corporate gladiatorial pit of promotion, are given more or less free reign. As long as the demand from HQ is met and the profit flows to central, they turn a blind eye.

  Each tower needs a massive amount of workforce, from skilled craftsman to clumsy miner, from educated researcher to toilet cleaner. Therefore, ordinary folks looking to put food on the dinner table, sadly almost always meager, are drawn to these towers like goblins entering the gullet of a Titano Anaconda, never seeing the light of day again. Such is the contract these poor souls have to agree to for lack of better options.

  But not enough. Never enough.

  The Evil God of Business demands more sacrificial bodies before he vomits profit to his golden-robed worshipers at his altar of sweat and tears.

  That is why beastfolk from the southern border have been regularly raided for decades. Able-bodied men, women, and even children are taken so they can fuel their unceasing industry engine. If not for work, those with desirable traits will be sold to the highest bidder. The Magisterium discriminates not. Monsters, mystical beasts, demi-humans, or even pure-blooded humans can be chained with collars behind the very thin legalities of law.

  Slavery contributes greatly to the Zetel economy. Far above the other three great human nations. This results in their minus degrees relationship with the Estellian Church, whose agenda is to make the world a better place. Despite their efforts, progress moves forward at a glacial pace. Meanwhile, inhuman work labor, poor work conditions, environmental degradation, and many more, make the poor become poorer while the rich become richer beneath the uncaring shadow of the Magisterium Towers.

  Excerpt from the Atlas of Civilizations, written by Bartholomew the Grand Voyager. (Banned in the Zetel Sultanate by order of the Magisterium. All found copies by the authorities are burned.)

  ***

  Viers gathered two cults to conduct a raid.

  The first thing he did, after saying the greeting, was put the dissenters in their place. He wondered at the sanity of these small-time ‘villains’ at times. Their leaders, the Level 4s, with whom Viers negotiated directly and convinced to do the raid together, were on board. Of course, the benefits involved would be great. Instead, they were throwing a tantrum out of misplaced pride.

  “If this is the measure of your subordinates, no wonder the Silver Legion keeps kicking your asses,” Viers said to the leaders of both sides. 20% of their subordinates were now on the ground, unconscious and frothing from the mouth. Viers barely did anything at all but some people needed to be mauled by the tiger before realizing the beast was no paper tiger. He showed them he could defeat them with just the strength of his will.

  “We forced a draft of the roster in a hurry. This is the best we can gather in a few hours,” Izabella said.

  “Excuses, Iz?”

  “Sorry. But we’ll do our part to impeccable completion. Count on that. If not, I’ll offer my head on a silver platter.”

  Seeing their Vice-Vicar so demure towards the stranger, sowed confusion and fear among the still-conscious Blood Church cultists, including the other Level 4 that Izabella brought, Alan.

  “Fufufu. The Vice-Vicar of the Blood Church is quite meek these days, it seems. As for us, we’re just humble assassins. We get paid, we kill. As simple as that,” a woman from the Bone Ravens said.

  “If anyone fails in their task, I’ll make a hole in their head, so just chill, Boss,” the other Level 4 male from the Bone Ravens said lightly but his bloodlust was on the contrary.

  From the Blood Church, Vice-Vicar Izabella and Disassembler Alan.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  From the Bone Ravens, Lykin the Lighteater and Death Gun Bennec.

  These Level 4s led their respective groups.

  Izabella had been a member of the Arcanum Club since its creation and had a close tie with Viers so he invited her. She invited Alan and the lesser members in turn. Viers remembered Alan. He killed him once with a not-Rasengan and took out his soul. After Izabella’s service and contribution, he gave the soul back, and she then procured a new body for her good friend, like Viers did to Farley and the others. Before he gave the soul to her, Viers wiped Alan’s memory regarding Viers to prune the possibility of a revenge plot.

  On the Bone Ravens’ side, Viers’ ties with them were much thinner in comparison. Through a former grunt of the Ravens who had transferred to Viers Corp. due to better pay, Viers made contact with Bennec, the gun enthusiast. Viers conveyed his proposal and Bennec wanted to rope in another Level 4 for a job of this magnitude. That was how Lykin joined.

  While Avel and Bennec had met before when the other side tried to assassinate Croix, the gunner didn't know Viers’ alter ego. The same case for Lykin, who Viers met in Valkut, trying to assassinate Ciel. Viers’ relationship with them was simple, employer and employees.

  On Viers’ side of the tripartite, there was just himself and Jessica, a duo of Level 4.

  “Now that there are no objections left on the matter of leadership, I’ll give you your tasks,” Viers said.

  He sent the Blood Church members for information gathering, the layout of the compound, security measures, important personnel, seeking infiltration routes, and so on. Viers and the others wouldn't assault the tower yet, and the town beneath the tower provided ample opportunities for such things.

  Izabella came prepared, using the Blood Church’s connections; she already had leads to key individuals or places to reveal such crucial information.

  Then it would be the assassins’ turn to remove potential threats. They could ask nicely or use a knife to the back, Viers cared not as long as the defenders were removed from the board. Stealth was paramount.

  This was phase one. As it was currently morning, the cults had until around evening.

  When the time was ripe, phase two would begin. They would infiltrate the tower, disable the system defense, key infrastructures, and murder their way up. In the end, it all came down to which side got the bigger fist.

  Viers iterated that the main objective was to eliminate Tower Master Baharir. The steps taken before the confrontation were to weaken his fighting potential, to reduce his advantage of fighting in his home ground as close to zero as possible.

  “We have our assignments, but what are you going to do, handsome?”

  Lykin, like a femme fatale she was, asked seductively. The weaker members of both cults were affected. Viers gave no reaction as if he was a plant. And he was wearing a mask. Was he supposed to be happy his mask got praised? He wasn't that narcissistic.

  “My role will be to disable the teleportation circle once we enter the tower,” Viers said. “If reinforcements keep pouring in from other Magisterium branches, there will be no hope of victory for us. Make no mistake, the Tower Master and his henchmen, especially their elites, won't be easy dogs to butcher, but butcher them we shall.”

  If you all can't do it, I’ll do it myself.

  Towers maintained a heavy military force to maintain order, discourage rebellion, find new mining sites in the Wildlands, and of course, repel enemy attacks. Each Tower Master worth their salt had amassed a formidable private army of their own.

  Next order of business, to hide their identities, the group would use masks and code names. The fact they were cults wouldn't be missed by observers with half a brain but it didn't mean each individual had to be identified.

  There were some who welcomed the notoriety and didn't bother with disguise but that was their choice.

  Viers’ chosen name was Ghost.

  He had an alt account for occasions like this but it was unavailable at the moment. During Round 1 of the Grand Prix, while he was participating as Avel, seen by millions, he sent his body double to ‘play’ at the Free People Coalition. This would further reinforce his alibi and impression that Tanael was a different entity.

  And the loot was quite nice. Before this raid, Viers and Arsène rejoined as one.

  “That is all. If there are no questions, ladies and gents, begin the operation. Our time is short. Leaders, stay. We have further discussions.”

  The rank-and-file cultists went to town under the tower. Viers then spoke with all the Level 4s, Jessica included, about more details that he obtained from soul searching Elvina’s oppressor.

  The focus was their would-be opponents, the Level 4s under the Tower Master, the Executives.

  ***

  When night fell, the town was burning.

  No plan survives first contact with the enemy.

  His earlier plan? He was looking at the pyre.

  Pillars of smoke coiled on the bodies of the regal tower like dancing snakes. Under the light cast by the fires, Viers walked on the main road. His surroundings were a mess, people on his side were fighting people on the tower’s side. Civilians caught in the Arte crossfire chaotically ran away from the burning buildings. Adding a touch of flourish to this hellish painting, there were demons out and about, summoned by his reliable allies.

  The villain wasn't upset. He just rolled with it.

  Viers stopped his stroll at an appropriate distance from the tower. He conjured a huge sword, almost as tall as his body. With the destructive implement on his back, he raised his head up.

  Recreating the iconic cover art of FFVII.

  Just like Cloud, he would perform righteous terrorism on this world’s Shinra Electric Power Company!

  ...Fucking glorious!