Sgolkr sat on the large, high-backed chair. It had been made from durable but malleable metal. He was able to reshape it at will since the metal had been bonded to him, allowing it to be as comfortable as any seat could be.

While the chair was a throne to anyone who had seen it, just thinking of it representing power made Sgolkr seethe inside. Even though he had conquered other bases, forced various races to serve under him, and now has a Rift network including dozens of captured bases, the only thing that drove Sgolkr was memories of his defeat.

Untold amounts of pain and humiliation were received at the hands of a native. Thay was by itself enough to remove him from the ranks of the glorious Scyrric. Not a day, or even an hour, went by without Sgolkr seeing the face of that native, jaw broken, chest cut open by stolen armor, but a victorious smile on his bloody lips.

The native had known. Even while losing the fight, he had looked through Sgolkr with a certainty of victory. And even after hurting and diminishing Sgolkr, he had done even worse. The native had ruined Sgolkr's class path.

Sgolkr's class had been selected for him based on extensive testing by the Scyrric training facilities. They had chosen him for his class line and while the training had been grueling, it showed the belief they had in him. In an instant, the native had removed the results of that belief. He had stripped Sgolkr of all that his life was meant to be.

Day after day, hour after hour, Sgolkr seethed. Nothing mattered to him but to get his revenge against the native, taking not only his life but everything he was trying to protect. Everyday and every action was to accomplish this goal.

Looking around, Sgolkr looked at the fruits of his efforts. This main room was enormous, shaped within the mountain thanks to the Rift Menu. Massive forges lined the outside walls of the room, where chained Unklarn worked. There were only about 20 left that were capable of making weapons and armor for the army he had gathered, although only two seemed skilled enough to make equipment worthy of Sgolkr himself.

The other 50ish Unklarn were put in the mines to get the best ores for crafting. They were fed only if they made their quota, with a few of Sgolkr's vicious subordinates overseeing it.

Even with the size of this main chamber, the room was full of activity. Thousands of creatures passed through each day. They moved the weapons and armor to the appropriate armories, followed Sgolkr's commands, or reported on their attempts to bring other Rift bases under Sgolkr's control.

Obviously, there was a limit to the strength these conquered soldiers could have, or else they wouldn't have been subjugated by Sgolkr. He had to remain the strongest. But while the natives had no other allies they could rely on to grow their armies, Sgolkr had no shortage of new troops he could bring in, simply by visiting a few of the surrounding bases with his "Chromium Titan [27]" tier 4 class.

Following the Rift communications, it was obvious that the natives continued to expand their territory. Yet, they moved slowly. They didn't extend far and often the aberration didn't participate in their Rift assaults. That would whittle their own forces down without having reinforcements and limited their progress in gaining strength.

Sgolkr had no such compulsion. Many bases had been destroyed, rather than taken into his army. When he set out, he took as much of the XP for himself as possible, ensuring that he was the strongest, both inside his army and out.

The only concern Sgolkr had regarding the natives was that the Drathan had taken a surprising interest in the aberration. If not for his hate for the aberration, Sgolkr would have focused his animosity on the loathsome Drathan the most. That they were even included in this world claiming infuriated the Scyrric beyond words. The last he heard was they had locked down the native base and were toying with them before beginning the real assault.

While Sgolkr doubted psychological games would be enough to harm the aberration, the rest of the natives seemed less capable. Staying on those walls instead of confronting the Scyrric warriors directly, sharing kills instead of having their champions build their strength through direct attacks, showed how weak the natives were in both body and mind.

As Sgolkr stewed over all these thoughts, he stood and began moving around. Walking over to a stack of swords on the wall, all the minions in the chamber cleared a path for him. There were Tier 3 Goblins scurrying around while trying to stay out of the way of the larger races, large Horkus that glared at everything and laughed if they accidentally stepped on anyone, Lebasanti who were replacing their stone armor with the metal ones, Chornil that were even smaller than the goblins while covered in fur and dozens of needlelike teeth. Many more races were also represented, though only the strongest came to this chamber, willing to stand in Sgolkr's violent presence.

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After inspecting the swords on a rack next to a forge worked by an emaciated and haggard Unklarn, Sgolkr picked up a sword and slammed it into the wall. It sank deeply into the stone. Then Sgolkr's hand flashed red with the use of a skill that boosted his strength. He bent the blade at an angle until it shattered.

With fury, the Scyrric turned on the trembling Unklarn.

"You call this a weapon?" he bellowed. Then he threw the hilt at the Unklarn who had no chance to dodge it. The pommel hit his leather apron and knocked him backwards to the ground where he wheezed from the impact. "Improve the quality or join the others in the mines. Until then, you will be on half rations."

The Unklarn wanted to talk back, wanted to ask how he was supposed to make better without more resources or energy, but instead he lay there, hoping silence would allow the master of the base to move on. He looked at the shackles on his legs, chaining him to the forge where he spent all his time working and, for only a few hours a day, sleeping. What they were given for food could only be called disgusting slop.

Watching the Unklarn struggle to his feet, eyes turned down from Sgolkr, the Scyrric allowed him to get back to work before once more pacing with violent strides.

"Master! Master!" cried a Goblin as it entered the chamber and ran to Sgolkr. "We have seen land in the air coming towards us."

Sgolkr froze. He turned his reptilian eyes to the Goblin. Fury burned in them. It was obvious that the lookouts and defenders of his territory would benefit from being able to communicate through the Rift Menu, but Sgolkr trusted no one and wouldn't empower them with access to it.

"The Drathan are coming here?" he asked in surprise.

"I don't know," squealed the Goblin, as Sgolkr's large hand wrapped around his throat and lifted the small creature to his eyes. "It is floating land moving through the sky."

Sgolkr sighed and then dropped the creature. A Rift display opened, and he moved it until he could find out what the Goblin was talking about. Sure enough, he saw a large island floating towards his mountain. A sliver of fear settled in Sgolkr's spine, and he inhaled sharply.

There was no reason for the Drathan to target him. As far as Sgolkr knew, his assault of the Unklarn and taking of bases wasn't known. Yet another reason not to give anyone access to the Rift, to post pleas or boast on the communication lines.

"All soldiers to their defensive positions," he called through a universal display to all his conquered soldiers. "Drathan are coming. I will be opening portals to all bases for combat personnel to join us before they arri…"

ALERT: Hostile forces have entered your base. You are under siege. Rift options will be limited until this force is repelled. Defensive structures have been reinforced.

Sgolker hissed, then looked again into the display he had of the floating land. Several of the Drathan's Torquin were in front of the base, already crossed into the territory and scouting. Several curses were uttered by the Scyrric in his reptilian tongue.

Staring at the display, he watched them get closer. Another display was opened to watch his own forces as they gathered at the gates near the opening of the mountains. He also saw some of the smarter races fleeing, no doubt questioning Sgolkr's strength in the face of a full base of Drathan. That made Sgolkr snarl and make notes of which conscripted races would meet their end after the Drathan encounter.

He watched them approach and the disorganized way his troops set up, but as the Torquin flew closer, he noticed something unusual. The beasts' riders didn't have charcoal skin. There were no glowing cracks covering them. Instead, it was the soft, pink fleshed natives. And the Torquin were flying sloppily while controlled by their new handlers.

A smile and an amused hiss came to him. He didn't know how the natives had found him, but even if they had managed to defeat the Drathan, that didn't mean they stood a chance against him. There would be no numbers advantage for the natives, coming onto the small base while Sgolkr had amassed thousands of discardable but strong soldiers.

Striding over to his throne, the Scyrric picked up all his chromium armor and fastened it to his body. Then he placed dozens of weapons in their places on his armor. He would relish this payback.

Thanks to all the leveling Sgolkr had done, he had no doubt he was the strongest on the planet now. The aberration had always been weaker than him, resorting to an unknown trick to defeat him last time. Now, there was no way he would lose to those natives. Sgolkr could only hope the aberration was with them.

***

"Are our riders in place?" asked Adam. Over the last few days, he had brought as many beast handling classes to the island as they could spare. The Chief Torquin Breeder had shown them how to manage the flying mounts, with a lot of test flights as well as scolding along the way.

"We're sending them up in groups. The Torquin don't have a long range with a rider and a passenger," answered Lucas.

"And those in the wingsuits?"

"They're prepared to drop on your signal," said Brittney, wearing her own wingsuit. The large and heavy shield seemed like it would be too much for her to glide with. "Did you need us to grab a wingsuit or jetpack for you?"

"I'll be fine," said Adam, "but let me take your shield down for you. I don't want you to fall because of it."

Brittney blushed a little as she nodded and handed it back to him.

"Thanks. I was wondering what to do about it. I figured I'd just use a defensive skill before hitting the ground if I fell."

"Now you don't need to worry about it," said Adam as he smiled at her. Once more he became serious. "Tom, you'd better stick with Golgarn and get him to the other Unklarn before I do. Otherwise, I can't guarantee that I'll be able to hold myself back."

"Right-io, boss," answered Tom with the odd Sentinel Army salute. "We'll make those dwarves work for us or else."

Adam glared at his friend, who gave him a teasing smile.

"I mean we'll negotiate with those skilled craftsmen for the betterment of humanity," Tom mocked as he amended his statement.

"Right," said Adam with a roll of his eyes. He pulled his large, triangular great sword out of the ground and began walking to the edge of the island. "Now, let's hope that bastard Scyrric is home. He attacked our base before, now it's time to return the favor. This will be a good measurement of our growth."

His friends and soldiers formed up around Adam, each with their own determination as they prepared for their assault.

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