ONE MONTH AND TWO WEEKS LATER

  Loch looked up at the golden dome of the State House. The flickering lights from the fires in the buildings around it cast shadows across the gold. It wasn’t a site he liked. Neither was the person glaring at him from the steps of the State House.

  George Cornwell stood a couple steps up. In many ways, George reminded Loch of Roger Lewis. Both were loud, arrogant and thought themselves stronger than they were. George had not stopped shouting since Loch had stepped into the State House grounds. The grounds weren’t as manicured as they used to be. The grass long, the hedges overgrown.

  Loch could hear the sounds of fighting around them. Metal against metal, groans of people being hit, the screams of the hurt. He saw the different colored flashes of light as Abilities were being used. He wasn’t that worried about any of his people, they vastly out Leveled the small army that George had built. But there was a strength in numbers, so his forces still had to be careful.

  George was the strongest in Concord until Loch and his people had arrived. Jake Warrick was stronger than George Cornwell. Even Piper was.

  The man was a fool.

  But he was a fool that had bullied his way to power. Using what he had, which was more than anyone else in the area, to control the large population, turning most of them into little more than slaves. Only his hand picked warriors were able to Level and gain a little power, George careful to never let them gain more than he did. With his power, and Loch had to admit the man had some charisma, he’d managed to control the immediate area around downtown Concord for months. And Loch had to give the man some credit, he’d kept the people alive through the winter.

  It was obvious that George’s chosen few had eaten better, had better shelter and clothing. The rest had barely survived. Those were little more than slaves.

  When Loch had arrived in Concord, he’d already been angry from what little he knew of the way George Cornwell ran the city and the survivors. He hadn’t even bothered to make a Clan, giving the people the benefits of that.

  The plan had been to spend a week scouting the area, learning the strength of George’s forces, watch how he treated the rest. Loch could only last two days before he’d ordered the attack. For all their bluster, George’s people hadn’t stood a chance.

  There was still some fighting, but it would end soon. George himself had retreated to the State House. A big man, over six feet and two hundred pounds, George had been ex-army. Loch had watched him direct an attack on a raiding group of hobs, and the man’s strategy was sound. Maybe even better than Lochs. He knew how to fight.

  If the personality had been different, Loch might have been able to work with him. But Loch didn’t like bullies and George Cornwell was a bully.

  “I will kill you,” George said, pointing his sword at Loch. “How dare you come here and..”

  “Shut up,” Loch said, shaking his head.

  He held Onyx to the side, low. George had backed up a couple of steps, wearing his mismatched armor. The man hadn’t even been running the local Dungeons regularly.

  Loch knew he’d gotten lucky when they’d found Cerie. She had taught them a lot about the Connection. George didn’t have a Cerie, or anyone to help instruct them, but the basics were there if he had just bothered looking.

  He hadn’t, content in his little kingdom and power trip.

  George could have built up an army, could have spread out and rescued so many more people. When Casian, Drew and Jake had come to Concord, they had found pockets of people living away from the downtown area. Only a couple dozen, but they were survivors that had gotten through the winter, had held off attacks from monsters and had even gained Levels.

  They were good people too, happy to meet Loch and learn about the Clan. With the portals that Henry had established, some had even gone back to Northwood. There had even been a couple dozen people that the Northlake Guild had found living along Route 4 once they’d gotten into Chichester. Loch had been happy to learn there were so many people around, so many survivors.

  He glared at George. There were so many people that needed help and guidance and people like George just wanted to be petty kings.

  “You had your chance,” Loch said, taking a step forward. “You could have had something good here. There are so many resources around. But what did you do with the little power you had? You became a petty tyrant.”

  Loch took another step. George looked like he wanted to back up, but there were some of his people along the edges, watching. Loch’s people had weapons on them, so George’s couldn’t help, but then they didn’t look like they wanted to. A couple even seemed to be enjoying watching George squirm.

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  “It’s sad,” Loch said. “You’re just another in a long line of sad little men with dreams of power.”

  “DIE!,” George yelled, running down the steps and charging at Loch.

  Onyx flew across the short distance, catching George in the chest. He stopped running, staring at the weapon embedded in his body, watching as it disappeared. George’s eyes looked away from the blood flowing out of the wound, focusing on Loch and the axe that was back in his hand.

  “What?” George said. “How?”

  “Real power is helping others,” Loch said, walking forward. “It’s using your strength to grow a community and help others grow. Not hold it over them and keep them down.”

  George raised his sword, taking a weak swing at Loch. Holding up his hand, not even using Onyx or Bulwark, Loch caught the blade. He held it, George shaking as he tried to continue the swing. With a quick yank, Loch pulled the sword from George. The man stumbled, falling to his knees.

  Loch stepped back, letting George’s sword drop to the ground. He could sense the Spirit in the weapon. There was a decent amount. It would be a good weapon for someone around Level 10.

  “I saw you fight,” Loch said, looking down at George. “You could have been an excellent general. We could have used you. There are so many fights out there. More invaders, other humans like you. Clans of monsters like the hobs and red caps that you’ve fought. Other threats. You could have helped so many people. Saved so many lives.”

  Loch raised Onyx, energy crackling along the axehead. George’s eyes focused on the weapon, wide in fright.

  “Instead you did this,” Loch said, waving his free hand at the carnage and fires around them. “You should have been better,” he said and swung the axe.

  ***

  “So you’re the new boss?” An older man asked, glaring at Loch.

  He stood in a crowd that had been brought into the yard in front of the State House. Loch had been sitting on the stairs, receiving reports from his people as they filtered in. The fighting had stopped, now they were dealing with the fires and finding all the people. Some of George’s fighters had survived, but they’d either fled or surrendered. The people now entering the yard were the leaders of the survivors, the ones that George had controlled.

  The older man walked ahead of the rest, looking defiantly up at Loch.

  “We’ve had one despot, what’s another,” he said.

  Loch sighed, standing up. He walked down the stairs to stand in front of the man.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Robert Daniels,” the man answered.

  “You care about these people?”

  Robert looked back at the others, then at Loch. His beard and hair were long and scraggly, it hadn’t been cut in a long time, hadn’t been taken care of as it was heavily matted. Black hair, with streaks of gray. The man wore ragged clothes, but looked strong and solid.

  “Yes,” he answered, a little hesitantly.

  “Here’s the deal,” Loch said, Robert’s eyes growing hard, figuring he knew what was coming. He was partly right. “Northwood is a lot stronger than Concord. I’m a lot stronger than anyone here. If I wanted to, I could take control, but the thing is that I don’t want to.” Loch paused, letting his words sink in. Robert looked a little confused. “We have a lot of knowledge that we can give you, to help you. We don’t have a lot of extra resources that we can give, but we’ll help.”

  “Why?” Robert asked. “There’s a but in there…”

  “Yes, there is,” Loch said, sighing. “The Connected System values strength. You and the rest here? You’re not strong, not yet. There are so many threats out there and you’ll need to grow stronger. There are Dungeons here, and you’ll need help.”

  “And you’re offering that hope? What’s the price?”

  “Mutual help,” Loch said. “We help you, you help us.” Robert started to say something but Loch held up a hand, stopping him. “Part of that does mean becoming part of Clan Brady. You won’t be the last to join. I’m looking to make a republic.”

  “With you as President?”

  “Figurehead President only,” Loch said, chuckling. “At least I’m trying to be and I hope to be. I have power and I need to use that, I need to keep gaining in power, but I want to use that power to help people like you and yours. People that are oppressed or chained or just need a helping hand.”

  “That sounds all well and good,” Robert said. “But we have just your word for it. How can we trust you? You’ll just put one of yours in charge and we’ll be in the same spot we were in.”

  “No, you’re putting yourself in charge.”

  Robert’s eyes widened.

  “Congratulations, you’re now the Mayor of Concord. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Ed Turner and you can talk.”