Chapter 65: Mounting pressure

The stone walkway near the C-building quad was cool under the afternoon shade. Rain hadn’t walked twenty paces from the fountain before a shadow stepped out from behind a concrete pillar.

Peter looked terrible. His face was pale, a slick sheen of sweat covering his forehead despite the chill in the air, and his fingers twitched against the hem of his oversized jacket. He rushed forward, his eyes darting wildly left and right across the empty lawn before grabbing Rain by the upper arm and pulling him back toward the shadow of the pillar.

"Rain," Peter whispered, his voice trembling so badly his teeth almost chattered. "I talked to them. Corwin and the other two. They came to my room."

Rain stayed calm, his blue eyes holding Peter’s frantic gaze. "I know. I sent them your way. Did you stick to the story?"

Peter swallowed hard, a dry, rasping sound. He nodded rapidly, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. I told them the rift wall caved in, that the Raid squad collapsed, and that we barely made it out alive. Dax got right in my face, Rain. He kept asking about the core box, over and over, but I didn’t break. I swear I didn’t break."

"Good," Rain said, resting a steady hand on Peter’s shoulder. "That was the right call. The story held."

"It held with Corwin," Peter said, his voice dropping into a desperate, hollow tone that made Rain’s chest tighten. "It held with him, but Rain, it didn’t end there. Corwin called Reeve while they were standing in my doorway."

Rain’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Reeve?"

"Reeve isn’t using Corwin’s crew as intermediaries anymore," Peter said, his eyes welling with moisture as he gripped Rain’s sleeve. "Reeve took the phone himself. He told Corwin he doesn’t trust their intel, and he doesn’t trust how the run went down. He set a new condition. A direct deadline."

"How long?" Rain asked flatly.

"Three weeks," Peter said, a tear finally slipping down his pale cheek. "three weeks to produce the full fifty thousand credits. Entirely on our own. No more job placements from Corwin’s crew, no more rift intel fed to us, nothing. We have to come up with fifty grand in three weeks, or Reeve sells our debt markers to an off-grid gang in town."

Peter let go of Rain’s jacket, his head dropping as his shoulders shook with quiet, helpless sobs.

"Fifty thousand credits," Peter muttered to himself, looking down at his worn boots. "We’re first-years, Rain. We don’t even have permit access to C-rank rifts yet. How are two F-rank independent cadets supposed to raise fifty thousand credits in three weeks without guild backing? It’s impossible. We’re finished."

Rain looked at Peter, seeing the absolute, crushing weight of despair flattening the boy’s spirit. Rain felt no panic, only a quiet, sharp focus settling into his mind. three weeks was a brutal timeline, but it was a clear line in the sand.

"It’s not impossible, Peter," Rain said, his voice grounded and unwavering. "It’s just a number. We’ll figure it out."

Peter looked up, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve, shaking his head slowly. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what happens to people who end up in gang debts. I can’t just sit in my dorm room waiting for three weeks to tick down, Rain. I can’t."

"What are you going to do?" Rain asked.

"I’m going to go try to figure something out on my own," Peter said, taking a step backward away from the pillar, his voice thick with emotion. "I have an uncle who runs a recycling yard in Sector Five. Maybe he knows someone who needs off-the-books labor for a warehouse run. I don’t know. I just have to try something."

Rain watched him step out into the sunlight. He knew pushing Peter to stay right now would do no good; the boy was operating on raw panic.

"Be careful, Peter," Rain said quietly. "Don’t sign anything stupid, and don’t take a contract without running it by me first."

Peter gave a faint, miserable nod, turned around, and walked briskly down the tree-lined path, his head low, vanishing into the crowd near the lower quad.

Rain stood under the shade of the pillar for a long moment, watching the space where Peter had been.

Three weeks. Fifty thousand credits.

Rain walked away from the pillar, heading toward the quiet walking path behind the athletic fields. The math was simple enough. Fifty thousand credits divided by three weeks meant roughly sixteen thousand six hundred credits a week. For a student without a high-tier guild contract, that was an astronomical sum.

Unless you had high-value materials to liquidate.

Rain brought his thoughts to focus on his internal inventory, sending a deliberate command to check the stored contents of his dimensional space. The response appeared in his mind cleanly.

Inside rested the Husk Regent’s C-Rank Boss Core, a dense, pale crystalline sphere radiating a faint, dormant pressure. At least he had that alongside the remainder of his liquid funds from the Bone Widow sale. Combining the C-rank Boss core with the roughly nine thousand credits he had already banked would give him a massive head start toward breaking the back of that debt.

He pulled out his phone and brought up Nyra’s name.

He didn’t want to sell a C-rank Boss core through a standard campus fence or an open market broker; doing that as an F-rank cadet without an official rift permit would flag the municipal system immediately. Nyra had the connections, the discretion, and the network to handle high-value monster materials without drawing official scrutiny.

He typed out a short message:

-May have found a way to help with our funding problem. Meet me tonight at seven by the old training track near the academy?

He hit send, watched the message mark as delivered, and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He had hours before seven. Standing around worrying about Corwin, Reeve, or the debt wouldn’t make his muscles stronger or his reaction times faster.

He turned down the side path leading to the isolated practice field behind the East Annex, a stretch of compacted dirt surrounded by tall pine trees, out of sight from the main walkways.

The dirt on the practice field was dry and firm under Rain’s boots. The wind blew softly through the pine needles overhead, carrying the faint smell of sap and damp earth.

Rain took a breath, standing in the center of the clearing, and set his feet.

In the academy’s martial curriculum, hand-to-hand combat wasn’t taught as a collection of random strikes; it followed the strict three-phase structure of foundational Krav Maga.

First was Stance: establishing a correctly grounded, low center of gravity base. Without that absolute structural alignment, Mana could not properly channel through the body without backfiring or dispersing uselessly into the surrounding air.

Second was Channeling: drawing raw Mana directly from the core, guiding it up through the primary nerve lines of the torso, and compressing it along the pathways leading to the striking point.

Third was Transfer: the explosive physical discharge of that compressed energy into a target on direct impact.

So far, Tenski had only drilled the class on Stance. Neither Rain nor any of his peers had been cleared to attempt Channeling or Transfer during supervised drills; attempting to force raw Mana down unconditioned nerve lines without a flawless base foundation was a fast track to tearing muscle fibers or blowing out joint cartilage.

Rain sank two inches into his stance.

He spread his feet shoulder-width apart, shifting his weight slightly back onto the balls of his feet. He brought his hands up, fists relaxed near his chin, elbows tucked tight against his ribs to protect his midsection.

He held the position. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. A minute.

His thighs began to burn slightly, the lingering ache in his recovering ribs complaining against the tension. Rain ignored the discomfort, adjusting his right heel half an inch outward to lock his hip into alignment. He felt the subtle shift in his center of balance.

He wasn’t trying to draw Mana. He didn’t issue any commands to his core. He simply held the structure, feeling how his spine, hips, and knees formed a solid, uninterrupted pillar connected to the earth beneath him.

He stepped forward, executing a slow, measured jab, keeping his hips square and his back foot anchored. He pulled the fist back, stepped, and set the stance again.

Repetition. Pure, mechanical repetition.

He worked the stance adjustments for an hour, switching between left-lead and right-lead, training his body to automatically find that grounded center of gravity the second his feet touched the ground. No shortcuts. No wasted motion. Just building the foundation so that when the time came for Channeling and Transfer, the structure wouldn’t collapse under the pressure.

Satisfied, Rain wiped a line of sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm and relaxed his posture. His breathing was steady, his heart beating with a clean, rhythmic pulse.

He walked over to a large wooden bench near the edge of the pines, sat down under the shade, and focused his attention inward.

It was time to spend his earnings.

Rain mentally issued a direct command to open the System Interface, navigating straight to the System Store.

[Synthesis Credits Available: 1,057 SC]

The interface displayed the available item listings clearly. Rain didn’t waste time browsing through decorative apparel or convenience items; his eyes went straight to the defensive and weapon categories.

He selected the first item.

Hardened Ridgeback Plate Vambrace

Price: 220 SC

Rain confirmed the purchase with a thought.

[Purchase Confirmed: Hardened Ridgeback Plate Vambrace (-220 SC)]

[Remaining Balance: 837 SC]

A heavy, dark gray piece of armor materialized smoothly into his hands. The moment his fingers made physical contact with the solid frame, the system interface flared in his vision with a firm, distinct notification:

[Item Detected: Hardened Ridgeback Plate Vambrace]

[Rank: D-Rank (Common)]

[Effect: +3 Defense (Flat Physical Reduction, Forearm Contact Only)]

[Durability: 150/150]

[Note: Forged from the ridged dermal plating of a Ridgeback-class beast. Reduces blunt and low-tier piercing damage absorbed through direct forearm contact, such as blocking or parrying. Offers no protection to other body regions.]

Rain examined the vambrace. It was built from overlapping plates of matte-black, ridged hide cured to the density of forged iron, lined on the inside with padded leather, and fitted with two thick adjustable steel buckles.

He set it on his lap and selected the second item from the store.

Bonewretch-Bone Reinforced Blade

Price: 260 SC

He confirmed the transaction.

[Purchase Confirmed: Bonewretch-Bone Reinforced Blade (-260 SC)]

[Remaining Balance: 577 SC]

A compact, dangerous short sword materialized across his knees. The scabbard was made of dark leather, bound in hardened cord. Rain reached down and took hold of the hilt, pulling the blade three inches from the sheath. The steel was a pale, off-white grey, reinforced along the spine by a thick ridge of calcified monster bone.

The moment his skin touched the hilt, the system fired:

[Item Detected: Bonewretch-Bone Reinforced Blade]

[Rank: D-Rank (Common)]

[Effect: +4 Physical Damage (Melee, Scaling with Strength)]

[Durability: 220/220]

[Note: A short blade forged from compressed Bonewretch remains, reinforced along the spine for impact resistance. Edge retention significantly exceeds standard mass-produced steel. Scales favorably with wielder Strength output.]

Rain looked down at the blade, feeling its balance. It was light, fast, and remarkably solid.

He checked his remaining funds: 577 SC. He didn’t leave the rest sitting idle. He navigated to the consumables tab and selected Minor Mana Recovery Potions, listed at 50 SC each.

He set the quantity to 5.

[Purchase Confirmed: 5x Minor Mana Recovery Potion (-250 SC)]

[Remaining Balance: 327 SC]

Five small, sturdy glass vials filled with a brilliant, glowing blue liquid appeared directly into his hands. Rain carefully transferred all five vials into his dimensional storage with a single mental command, watching them settle safely into the dark, weightless void of his internal inventory space.

He turned back to the physical gear on the bench.

He picked up the Hardened Ridgeback Plate Vambrace, slipping his left forearm through the leather sleeve and pulling the two steel buckles tight. It fit snugly against his coat sleeve, adding a solid, weighty feel to his left arm without restricting his wrist movement.

He grabbed the hilt of the Bonewretch-Bone Reinforced Blade with his right hand, drawing it fully from the sheath.

Rain mentally commanded the system to display his full status panel.

....

Name: Rain

Level: 12

XP: 786 / 1,100

HP: 118 / 160

Mana: 20 / 20

Attributes

Strength: 28

Agility: 20

Endurance: 26

Intelligence: 25

Equipped Gear 𝑓𝑟ℯℴ𝓂

Hardened Ridgeback Plate Vambrace — +3 Defense (Forearm Contact Only)

Bonewretch-Bone Reinforced Blade — +4 Physical Damage (Melee, Scaling with Strength)

Bound Skills

Flash Step: Zero Drag (Rank SSS) — Slot 1

[Empty] — Slot 2

Synthesis Credits: 327

Rain studied the text hovering before his eyes, his mind breaking down the exact mechanics of what he was looking at.

His core attributes were completely unchanged. Strength remained at 28, Agility at 20, Endurance at 26, Intelligence at 25. The morning daily quest had already awarded him +1 Strength and +1 Endurance earlier that day, raising those numbers to their current baselines, but this new gear added nothing to those core values.

Rain reasoned through the distinction carefully, recalling his observations from his very first raid in the lower drainage rift.

Defense had never been a core attribute on his status panel; it was a derived physical stat. The Vambrace provided +3 Defense, but that flat reduction applied only when an enemy strike made direct physical contact with his left forearm while blocking or parrying. If a blade cut across his ribs, his chest, or his shoulder, that +3 Defense offered zero protection. It didn’t make his skin tougher, nor did it raise his base Endurance.

Similarly, the short blade provided +4 Physical Damage, but that damage output applied solely while he was actively wielding the weapon and striking an opponent with the edge. It didn’t make his punches hit harder, it didn’t increase his lifting capacity, and it didn’t raise his raw Strength attribute.

If he dropped the sword and unbuckled the vambrace tomorrow, his physical baseline, his real Strength, Agility, Endurance, and Intelligence, would remain exactly where it was. Gear modified specific, conditional outcomes in a fight; it did not alter who he fundamentally was or raise his actual biological ceiling.

Rain stood up from the bench, holding the blade in his right hand and keeping his left arm raised in a guard stance.

He stepped forward into a Krav Maga entry line, executing a swift horizontal slash with the blade, followed by a tight, rigid left-forearm block against an imaginary high strike.

The weight was perfect. Compared to the rusted, notched iron dagger he had borrowed during his first raid, this weapon felt sharp, responsive, and dangerous. The vambrace gave his lead arm a solid, protective shield that could absorb a heavy strike without bruising his bone underneath. He was vastly more capable right now than he had been three days ago.

Satisfied with the test, Rain sheathed the short sword. He unbuckled the vambrace from his arm, holding both items in his hands for a second.

This was normal daily campus life, not an active rift run or a duel. Walking around the academic quad wearing armor plating and open weapons would draw unnecessary attention from instructors and upperclassmen alike.

With a simple mental command, Rain sent both the blade and the vambrace into his dimensional storage, watching them vanish into the weightless void alongside his potions and the Husk Regent core. His hands were empty once more.

He straightened, stepped out from the shade of the pine trees, and began walking back down the dirt path toward his dorm building. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting long, golden shadows across the stone walkways. He felt good. The daily quest was done, his stance fundamentals were sharper, his gear was bought, and he had a plan in motion for the evening.

As he reached the paved courtyard outside C-building, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Rain pulled it out, looking down at the screen. It was an incoming call from an unlisted number.

He tapped the screen to accept the call and brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello, Captain Arthur."