The Martial Unity

“Thankfully, we have a peace treaty with most of these organizations and polities,” Schoel remarked with a serious expression. “We have already established an understanding with all of them for this particular mission in order to ensure that we don’t get in each other’s way. The biggest problem will be organizations we don’t have an agreement with…”

Even as he droned on about the details of the competition that they would face, Ria found herself staring at the coat of arms of the Kandrian Empire with a hint of discomfort. She had a love-hate relationship with her own Empire. She loved what she remembered of her childhood. She hated what she remembered from her adolescence. The latter was much fresher in her mind, causing the hatred to outweigh the love. But she did think about the good times every now and then, because she did yearn for them.

She was also concerned about being recognized. It was one thing not to be recognized in the frontier because of the information bubbles that each star system existed in, with minimal carryover from other star systems due to limited informational throughputs.

It was another thing to run into the Kandrian Empire on the frontier. They were much less likely not to recognize her if they saw her. Of course, they were unlikely to meet up.

“We are going to meet up,” Schoel declared. “With the Kandrian Empire and other friendly organizations for some cooperation and coordination against more belligerent forces like the Blood Cult and the Evolutionary Army.”

“Damn,” Ria muttered under her breath. “We’ll be fine,” Runark lightly whispered in her ear. “You don’t have to interact with them, and you can just wear a partial mask with your Water Integument suit.”

That was a good point, of course. But she disliked the feeling of needing to hide. She considered backing out of the operation, but ultimately decided to stay. She wanted to hang out with Aunt Arastia.

Schoel continued for another half an hour, breaking down the operation thoroughly before finally coming to an end.

“We will be dividing all of you into groups of five,” he announced. “Many of you are already in a party of five. That’s great. The rest of you, form groups and register within the next six hours. You will be provided with personal quarters to stay here in the Blood Humanist Society. With that, the briefing has come to an end.”

The moment he was left, Ria and Runark began to look around to find people to team up with, ideally hoping to get their hands on somebody closer to their age.

They weren’t the only ones who had that thought, of course.

“Hey, you two, want to team up?”

The voice of a girl called them out from behind. They turned around to find themselves staring at an adolescent hemosapien, no older than nineteen years old. Her blood-red hair was curly, forming an eye-drawing afro. Her eyes were surprisingly cybernetic, as if she were a tekvore, with white irises that contrasted sharply with her rich, dark skin.

More than anything, however, what drew their attention was the exosuit made up of blood. She smelled of it, as most hemosapiens did. A flowing liquid that covered her body from head to toe, resembling that of Ria’s Water Integument suit.

But it was her blood, not an actual suit. It was a technique among hemosapiens known as blood armor that allowed them to carry excess blood with them in the form of a suit of armor without having to dispose of it.

She carried herself nonchalantly. Her body was relaxed and unperturbed.

Ria smiled at the young lady amiably. “Of course!”

“Good,” the young lady replied. “The name’s Misha. Nineteen years old. Half hemosapien, half tekvore. I specialize in hemokinetic biotechnology. I can fight at all ranges. Rank five combat asset as certified by the Adventurers’ Guild. You?”

She was forthcoming with her information, as was prudent among pathwalkers forming a team for the first time.

“Ria. Ria Falken,” Ria gave out her alias last name. “Martial Master. Rank-five. Twenty-five years old. Specialize in all ranges.”

“Runark. Martial Master. Rank five. Twenty-five years old as well. Close-range combatant.”

“Martial Master at the age of twenty-five?” she asked with a relaxed cadence, raising an eyebrow. “That’s quite impressive. You two must be geniuses.”

She wondered how Misha would react if she told her that she had broken through at the age of sixteen and was only actually eighteen years old. “Grade five at the age of nineteen is even more impressive,” Ria offered pleasantly, offering a compliment back. “It’s not that impressive either,” the young lady huffed in a self-depracating manner. “It’s only thanks to the hemosapien side of me being particularly genetically strong despite me only being a half-blood. And thanks to my tekvore side resonating well with my hemosapien side. Anyway…”

She glanced around the room, the artificial pupils dilating as she spotted a person walking towards them.

An evosapien.

A young man who looked like he was made up of frosted glass. He walked towards them with a nervous expression on his translucent face, raising hands disarmingly preemptively as he reached them. “Listen, I just wanted to ask if I could join your group. I’m not a part of the Evolutionary Army, and I’m not a maniac—”

“You’re good, you can join as far as I’m concerned,” Misha remarked nonchalantly with a nod.

“Wait, really?” The young man did a double-take. “You’re not going to ask me to prove that I’m not a descendant of—”

“I said I was fine,” Misha replied. “I didn’t say anything about them.”

She gestured to Ria and Runark with a loose gesture. “Martialuses have more beef with evosapiens than anybody else.”

The young man gulped as he turned towards Ria and Runark. “Listen. I don’t have a problem with you guys. I just want a team to join. The others already told me to fuck off.”

Runark turned towards Ria with a complicated expression, but she simply nodded.

“You can join us. We have a slot open anyway.”