It was half-past noon, and DeSean was sitting on a rock. He was deep in thought from the information the university students had briefed him on, when the youngest members of the team emerged anew from their eggs, black pieces of their shells sprinkling the grassy ground before fading away.

Immediately, DeSean saw their paths and levels above their heads like a video game. Sometimes it was still befuddling to think the world had been tossed into a game with levels and stats without beholding it directly with his own eyes. This was one of these moments where DeSean had to remind himself how ridiculous things had gotten, and then accept it with a shrug.

It is what it is.

Past that, he was the first to welcome Mariah the [Ravaging Assassin - Level 1] and Roberto the [Dauntless Brawler - Level 1]. They were Pathtakers just like him, and it felt more obvious how much of a difference that made among the team. Without meaning to, the three of them had an energy separating them from the Pathless university students.

“So,” Francis drawled, breaking into the reunion, “what’s it like getting the main path?”

“It doesn’t feel bad,” Roberto said neutrally, seeming a tad different compared to before. He didn’t stutter, nor did he seem unsure like he would prior to the Main Path Selection. He wasn’t exactly as audacious as his path would claim, but his mannerism was… off.

“Good. It feels good.” Mariah grinned savagely, her hands balled so tightly her nails might breach the skin to the back of her palms. It didn’t take DeSean long to see the teenage girl’s edge had only sharpened with her acceptance of her path.

The university students shifted uncomfortably, Francis and Casey especially. Dazzle held her bearing a tad better, but even she seemed a little taken aback.

Mariah’s grin widened. “Don’t be scared. You guys aren’t the people I want to hurt. Unless, well, you give me a reason to.”

DeSean smacked her lightly on the head.

Mariah whirled at him, her knife appearing almost out of thin air. It stopped at his neck, millimeters from touching him.

He glared.

She stared back with a primal look that was nearly subhuman. She shook her head and backed off.

“Why did you… hit me?” she growled.

“Control,” DeSean said. “And to teach you to respect everyone above and below you.”

“They are… pathless,” she muttered.

“And you are all beneath me, regardless,” DeSean said with a fierce smile.

Mariah held her tongue, not challenging him as if she could feel the weight of his Records. Or at least the parts that mattered regarding their hierarchy.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Francis said, sliding in bravely between the three Pathtakers. “I’m really awestruck, and quite flabbergasted, by whatever developments you’ve all gone through with this whole evolution business. Maybe I’ll grow in self-importance, too, once I’ve developed my Main Path.”

Dazzle snorted. “That’s what we need. Francis feeling more self-important.”

The art history major shot his friend a smile before returning his attention to the Pathtakers. “But I hope we little Pathless don’t get left behind here. We’re still a team. And we’re not far behind you, either.”

“And we got a whole lotta trouble ahead of us and all sorts of unpredictable things going on,” Casey added. “Like a bunch of concerts smashing into each other. But, uh, y’know, more deadly!”

DeSean’s been to a couple of mosh pits. He could imagine how bad multiple concerts would get if they’d converged. The analogy was quite apt since that was basically the problem with Ozark Chaos Zone.

Various military reserved units from multiple nearby states had converged together and salvaged a fighting outfit that was going to charge Camdenton and try to break the blockade by mid-afternoon. The remnants of the internet, a dying and reviving ghost of its former self, were abuzz with the news.

The Holy Sheriff, the de facto leader of the Chosen Ozark Fortification, laid out challenges toward any Marked that thought they could, in his words, waltz through like dancing demons let in the gate. Casey had shown DeSean some of the posts that the sheriff, or whoever was handling his social media, put out for the world to see.

It was rallying as many Chosen as they could to help join the effort to block the Marked. Number rise, that shouldn’t be a big deal since there were way more Marked than Chosen. But the Chosen were more willing to use violence as their main tool to win this game compared to Marked. Even with their disadvantaged numbers, they were heavily favored.

Knowing the military, it would take them forever to establish command. Get logistics prepared. Establish a forward position where they could launch. Get birds up in the air with communications properly prepared. And perhaps try to clear civilians to save lives. They would also be slow to adapt to the realities of the game and stick to military doctrine despite how gutted they would be, and how uninitiated they were to the fantastical realities of fucking magic being employed at any given moment.

There wasn’t enough time to really prep all of that as tightly as they should. The most they could do was clobber together equipment, test it quickly, and throw bodies at the problem until the salvaged remnants of the military won. Or break.

But that was one area of concern. Another area of concern was the reports of a guerrilla unit acting against the Ozark Chaos Zone blockade. Some sort of vigilante was taking it upon themselves to conduct random strikes against patrolling units of Chosen. The person aimed against Pathless mainly, so they were smart enough to hedge their bets on beating down on the weaker parts of the blockade rather than face dangerous Pathtakers.

The damage was huge, whole neighborhoods would be engulfed in fire by an awesome explosion that would wipe out the Chosen without recourse. The tactics gave DeSean flashbacks of his time overseas when improvised explosive devices were the greatest killers of Marines. Whoever this person or group was, had also gotten his hands busy with the internet.

They would send patriotic messages to various forums that were up and running and seen by Marked and Chosen alike. They wouldn’t go as far as taking pictures of the dead Chosen, but the Golden Eagle would take the credit for every surprise attack that was blasting holes into the flanks of the Chosen barricade. However, the Sheriff was throwing bodies and Pathtakers at the problem, bolstering the backside of the barricade north of the Chaos Zone.

If the Golden Eagle was striking the back of the barricade, the north, and the hobbled together military was striking Camdenton directly. Basically attacking from the south. Then the east and the west would seem the safest directions to take to slip the noose and get into the Chaos Zone.

Or get caught by an ambush waiting for people who would foolishly think there were easy openings.

All of this flashed through DeSean’s mind fairly quickly thanks to his Focus. He still paused in silence to let the team of Pathless and Pathtakers settle down and wait for him. By now, Roberto had grabbed Mariah’s hand and got the Ravaging Assassin to calm down. The university students were still a little unsure about Mariah, but they warmed toward DeSean anyway. Casey especially who, surprisingly, touched the parasitic arm.

The parasite’s eye rotated toward her and ogled her.

She waved nervously in return.

“Is she your concubine, Master Warlock?” asked the parasite in Lesser Infernal.

“No,” DeSean said in kind. “She’s someone with the potential to lead my armies to victory.”

He was blowing smoke up the parasite’s ass and was expecting it to laugh.

“Ah. I await to see such ambitions come to fruition.”

DeSean scowled slightly. He was ambitious, but he wasn’t sure if he was that ambitious. Then again, would his path make him more serious about his outlandish claims?

Eh, that was too much to think about now. The day was waning.

“When the hour before the second wave is unleashed, we should be inside the Chaos Zone,” he said. “The closer to that hour, the more likely the fighting will get so fierce it’ll be a loss for us to try to get through that. Before then, we need to be quick, silent, and efficient. If we fight, we do so smartly.”

DeSean moved away from the five to stand in front of them.

“Chances are, that plan will get put to the fire and force us to adapt. Quickly. As best we can. No matter what, my goal is to see you all live through this and make it to the Chaos Zone. Secondly, I want you all to become a team that can rely on each other, enhance each other’s strengths, and cover each other’s weaknesses.”

“And that includes you, too, right, DeSean?” Casey asked with a trembling voice.

DeSean smiled. “Of course.”

***

They left behind the suburban, choosing to move through the undeveloped lands leading to Camdenton. The foundations of the plan was simple since DeSean could redevelop a simple plan when met with complex situations the day would throw at them.

“Get to the Chaos Zone by any means that would see us all alive.”

Those were his words when they had set out with backpacks filled with freshly hunted food and water from a nearby spring. They each had a gun. Either a pistol or a rifle. DeSean held a pump-action shotgun loaded with heavy slugs.

It felt strange to hold. Like it wasn’t as necessary compared to him before taking his Main Path as a Hell Marked. Still, the Warlock Lord kept a gun ready to set the example for everyone else, especially the Pathless.

They still needed the guns.

As they walked, Dazzle revealed how wondrous and very much needed her magical talents could be. She had both [Earthly Tender] and [Fungi Lover] working in tandem to hide cover their tracks and learn of secreted trails under the thickest forest canopies that would conceal them.

She stayed next to Casey, who was using her newly acquired [Magic Surveyor] Skill to sense any weird shifts of mana around them. While she was blind to anyone making physical approaches, if someone stepped hundreds of feet of her using magic, she would know. The lead-up to acquiring this Skill was present when she could sense DeSean’s mana tethers connected to his minions.

Speaking of minions, DeSean switched his optics between himself and the eight optilings flying above them. It was incredibly easy to summon them and sustain them without taking a large dent in his mana depth. The range in which he could send them off and keep them under his fold was incredible.

They covered wide patches of the sky and were so high above that you would have to have been on the lookout for them or have insane Focus to see they weren’t birds based on their outlines. They proved useful for their farseeing googly eyes, spotting roving bands of Chosen patrolling the roads, farms, fields, and forests around DeSean’s team.

They weren’t, thankfully, the only summons DeSean could pop into his service now. While Roberto leading the way forward based on Dazzle’s instructions and Mariah covering the back in case some tried to ambush from the flank were strong defenses against the enemy, DeSean knew it was about time to add more bodies to this unit. Especially since he was trying to keep his team alive.

It hadn’t taken long for Lylothia to teach him the symbols to summon a new species of imps. A stronger species, too. The Hell Princess built the education on the framework of what she’d taught him that first night, reworking the symbols and scripts of the summoning circle DeSean had to illustrate in incredible detail in his mind.

It was a lot easier as the Warlock Lord who was equipped with the Skill [Lesser Infernal Tongue of the 72 Hells]. He could now understand what the symbols and the words truly meant, and how they applied in a strange, hellish, musical sense that was greatly understood by the lower caste of demons.

Thus, he had a troupe of Maroon War Hounds (Great Imps) walking in the front and the back with the siblings. DeSean had summoned a dozen of them, and he didn’t break a sweat from the effort, tapping heavily on his Skill [Talented Summoning] and his path as the Warlock Lord.

He also got this nifty notification.

You’ve obtained basic Od Experience.

If they weren’t being deadly silent right now, he would’ve brought it up with Lylothia. Unfortunately, evading an enemy that could have Chosen with heightened Focus meant keeping a low noise profile by all means necessary.

Dazzle using her elemental earth magic to soften their footsteps and cover the tracks helped a lot. DeSean made sure to pitch in by bending the shadows cleverly to break their profiles so they’d be harder to spot.

He didn’t have to do much for the Hounds. They were butt-ugly monsters with mandibles slobbering beneath reptilian eyes. Scales and fur covered their bodies in diamond patterns. They stood upright on their hind legs and walked like hunched-over men with big broad shoulders and extended bellies under a sunken-in chest. They weren’t tall, only five feet tall at most, but they looked stocky and ready for a fight.

They were without weapons when DeSean summoned them, but they were quick to fashion spears and stone knives under half an hour before the team set off. Better yet, DeSean didn’t need to keep a tethered connection of mana with them. When they were summoned, they gained a supply of mana from him that would sustain them for a few hours. If DeSean wanted to keep them around, he need only feed them mana again.

They could move about independently without him, but that also meant he needed to be very exact with his Lesser Infernal to make sure they didn’t get up to mischief. For now, their orders were locked solid: stay with the members of the team, protect them with your life, and fight any aggressors unless told otherwise.

Ordering them around with Lesser Infernal made things easier. The same went with the optilings. Intent could only get through so much. But crossing the language barrier put to rest the possibility of misunderstanding.

All in all, they were moving at a good clip thanks to their Agility and Endurance despite certain members of the team having low Od in either one. They managed to avoid possible engagements without much trouble.

The mission was going smoothly.

That, of course, made DeSean incredibly nervous when they neared the first true barricade with 4 hours to spare.