[Chapter 37. Administration]

  Back at the center stone, he opened the menu. With a thought, he selected Summon Drones. Within a second, the window changed to a different list with three options.

  With a thought, he opened his status.

  "Yeah, well, it will set me back by quite a lot… Ahhh~ fuck it."

  Without thinking about it for too long, he summoned the Reaver Strike Drone.

  ─ TP: 42/392 (8/min)

  With a sigh, he watched his TP drop.

  The Reaver Strike Drone materialized in the center of the room, its matte black chassis reflecting the faint blue light of the center stone. It was larger than he expected, its aggressive design giving it a menacing appearance. The two forward-facing barrels glowed with a faint red light, and the single, blood-red optical lens fixed on him.

  He thought as he walked around it, examining its design. With a silent command he send it flying around and doing all kinds of maneuvers. It was just as maneuverable then his own assault drone, but it did shift a bit more smoothly into action and into an idle state. If that made even sense.

  He did some basic fire tests comparing it to at least twice as strong as his own summon, after several more tests he send it out through the balcony. It turned sharply and darted of through the arch leading outside.

  Searanox then walked back to the center stone and selected Guild Administration. A new window opened with a list of options.

  They were what he had expected, the typical run-of-the-mill options for any guild leader. With this, he could accept or kick people, or promote and demote them if he chose to. An interesting aspect was Territory Management, but it was all greyed out for now, and he could only read the subcategories.

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  Then there was Resource Management. The only option there was Guild Vault, but that one was also greyed out, and for it, a reason was given: the guild was still too low-level. The most interesting part, though, was under System Options, one specific point to be exact: Guild Base Layout.

  When he selected it, he saw the entire Black Tower as a kind of miniature hologram. Searanox could change the individual rooms or even entire floor layouts; he could design the entire tower according to his own ideas. But for the time being, he decided against it. What was important now was to rise higher, become stronger, and gain more members for the guild itself.

  With this thought, he closed the menu and walked onto the balcony, summoned one travel drone, and flew off. On his way down, he saw the Strike Drone perched on top of one of the auxiliary towers.

  While Searanox had that thought, the travel drone sped up in the direction of the next dungeon that his recon drones had discovered a while back. It did not take him long to reach it. The Webbed Tunnels were just 5 kilometers northwest of the camp, while the Burrowing Depths were 28 kilometers to the east.

  The third one his drones had found was to the south, at a distance of about 32 kilometers. Since he had only traveled about 5 kilometers southwest toward the node, he was not very close to this one. The flied itself was uneventful just as any other, there was not really something he could do while he was traveling from point A to B.

  He has to change that, there should be something he can do during this time. If not it would be wasted opportunity, Idle time is wasted time.

  Thirty minutes later, he reached a smaller mountainside. His travel drone dissolved beneath him, and he landed with a soft thud on a weathered rock ledge no more than twenty meters above the ground below. The cliff face was a jagged tapestry of grey stone and clinging moss, and a faint, cool breeze carried the scent of damp earth up from the canopy below.

  Just ahead, nestled within a shallow, cave-like outcropping, was the portal. A shimmering blue, slightly violet curtain of swirling energy that cast an ethereal glow on the surrounding rock. Searanox stepped closer, extending a single finger toward the undulating surface. A system window flickered into existence.

  "Fifteen," he murmured, a slight frown creasing his brow. "Not without full reserves."

  He dismissed the window and leaned back against the cool stone of the cliff face, pulling a crushed foil packet from his pack. He ate the stale pastry without enthusiasm, its artificial sweetness a poor substitute for the rich, coppery tang of blood he still craved. His gaze swept the landscape, taking in the endless sea of green below and the distant, unfamiliar shapes of mountains on the horizon.

  He let the silence settle, the quiet hum of the world around him a stark contrast to the constant violence of the past few days. For thirty minutes, he simply existed, letting his TP regenerate while enjoying the peaceful moment, one that would end the moment he stepped through the portal.