Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage-Chapter 515: Three-pronged Approach; Camp Winston

CH515 Three-pronged Approach; Camp Winston

***

Back in Ostmont City, Baron Luth Belloc remained seated, staring at the Comms Cube long after the light within it faded.

"What do you intend to do now, Father?" Kron asked at last, pulling him from his thoughts.

"What do you mean?" the Baron replied, lifting his gaze from the device to his son.

"Are you going to continue lying low while the Imperial Family and the other factions keep stepping over us?" Kron pressed.

"And what would you have me do?" Baron Belloc raised an eyebrow. "Suddenly raise a banner of rebellion in our House’s current condition?"

He shook his head.

"Do you think that just because someone appeared claiming to oppose the deities, I would immediately jump onto his boat? Have you learnt nothing from the failure of our forebears I just told you about?"

"Alex didn’t claim he would stand against the Navi," Kron muttered. "But still... are we just going to continue to swallow this insult?"

"What insult?" the Baron asked sharply. "In the eyes of the world, we are a Barony — a mere Barony."

He emphasised the words deliberately.

"The other side has the Imperial Family, the Holy See, and the highest aristocracy of the Empire. Our suppression is not something we cannot swallow. In fact, we must swallow it... and then pretend to love the taste."

He exhaled slowly and rubbed his temple.

"Change is a process. It does not come overnight. Like the young man said— we need both intellect and power. It will take time to gather the knowledge, strength and resources we’ll need. And during that time, we must ensure our opponents do not realise anything is amiss."

Baron Belloc’s gaze hardened as it rested on his son.

"I understand how you feel. You want to immediately restore our House to glory. But this is no place for youthful impulsiveness."

A faint, calculating look entered his eyes.

"Fortunately, there is somewhere your youthful vigour can be put to good use."

Baron Belloc pulled a sheet of paper from his drawer. Dipping his quill into the ink, he began to write.

When he finished, he folded the letter neatly and handed it to Kron.

"I will have the butler bring you a map. Head to the Wildlands and deliver this message to the young man. It may present an opportunity— if he knows how to use it.

"And he must know how to use it if he is to meet my expectations."

Kron accepted the letter and nodded.

"Once you deliver it, remain by his side. Help him. Guide him. Ensure matters do not spiral out of control," the Baron added.

"I’m not sure I can promise that, Father. But I will do my best," Kron replied wryly.

"That will be enough."

Baron Belloc leaned back into his seat, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"I never imagined you running off to become an adventurer would one day benefit the family. Fate truly works in strange ways." He gestured lightly. "Come. Tell me how you have fared these past five years."

Kron began recounting his experiences since leaving Ostmont City. He held little back, speaking of the good, the bad, and the ugly.

By the time he finished, it was well into the night.

Kron retired to his room, leaving his father alone in the study.

Baron Belloc rose and walked to the tall window that overlooked the city. Hands clasped behind his back, he stared out across Ostmont’s lights, lost in thought.

As he stood there, one thing became clear to him.

He would need to change his plans.

He had returned to Ostmont to contain whatever fallout might arise from his eldest son, York, joining the heir of the Luxen Duchy on his expedition.

But now...

He might need to rethink how he intended to handle it.

’York aligns himself with the Aristocratic and Holy See factions. Kron moves with the Invader. And I coordinate with the other Guardian families...’

Baron Belloc’s eyes flashed.

’A three-pronged approach. No matter how events unfold, House Belloc survives.’

If the great war never came to pass — or if the deities ultimately prevailed — York’s position within their sphere would secure the family’s future.

If war did erupt under the banner of the Safe Haven sorcerers, the Baron’s ties with the Guardian families would ensure House Belloc had a seat on that side.

And if it was Alex and his expedition that ignited the coming storm, Kron’s connection would place the Bellocs there as well.

It was a near foolproof arrangement — one that guaranteed the continued existence of the House regardless of which force emerged victorious.

’Indeed... fate works in mysterious ways,’ Baron Belloc smiled.

--

Former Konradi Barony, Dankrot Region, Virellian Empire, Arun Continent, Pangea

Hidden deep within a forested stretch of land under Alex Fury’s authority, a secret training camp lay in the land abandoned in the aftermath of the Wildkin raids.

This was no ordinary military camp.

Its training regimen would have seemed bizarre to any conventional soldier.

Rather than drilling in rigid formations or focusing solely on individual weapon mastery, the trainees here operated in small units — groups of four or six — running relentless drills through specially designed training courses.

The objective was not merely to complete the punishing obstacles, but to do so in the shortest time possible, while maintaining flawless coordination as a unit.

This camp had been constructed from blueprints Alex left behind before embarking on his interplanar journey.

It had one singular purpose:

To transform Fury soldiers into masters of unconventional, ungentlemanly warfare.

This was Camp Winston.

For now, training at the camp was restricted to the three hundred members of the Fang unit who had served directly under Alex during the Wildkin raids — and later, during the failed Kellerman Army incursion at Northern Dankrot Fort.

The camp was commanded by two high-ranking Fury officers personally selected by Alex:

Deputy Camp Commander, the Crimson Berserker, Major Aldrich Jaeger

Camp Commander, the Magic Archer, Colonel Conrad Horst

Of the two, Conrad Horst had changed the most.

Tempered in the fires of battle and hammered upon the anvils of war under Alex’s command, Horst had finally achieved the transformation he had sought for years.

Forged anew through two wars and the brutal philosophy of ungentlemanly warfare, he reached the comprehension that had long eluded him.

His Internal Energy, refined into the marrow of his being, aligned with his Class, enabling him to grasp his Derived Law— and step into Sainthood.

A late-stage Veteran Colonel only months ago... had become a Saint.

With Sainthood came promotion. Horst rose to the rank of Brigadier General, becoming a Flag unit commander and was granted authority to lead the new flag unit formed under Alex’s banner.

The Silver Fangs.

Though technically still a subunit of the Fury Army’s Fang Brigade, the Silver Fangs operated with near total autonomy from Fury Army High Command. In practice, they were Alex Fury’s private/ personal unit.

On this day, while the Silver Fangs were midway through another punishing course drill, a message arrived on Commander Horst’s comms device.

The moment he listened to it, a rare smile surfaced on his usually cold face.

He strode to the highest podium overlooking the camp and clapped his hands once.

Empowered by his Derived Law of Archery, the sharp sound carried across the entire training ground like a struck bell. Every soldier froze and turned toward him instantly.

"Pack your bags, men," he announced.

"We’ve received our orders."

***