Unchosen Champion

Corozal was buzzing with activity. Previously, the quiet town had remained relatively unencumbered by external threats, skirting the edge of outright conflict after mana’s arrival through clever tactics and initial luck. Neither the Primal Constructs nor the Cult of Chakyum had truly subjugated the area because there just wasn’t much for either force to target. A few old geezers, as they described themselves, with barely any levels had no value to the experience obsessed priests. At the same time, the clever traps that the locals implemented through their advanced profession skills had been effective deterrents for the smaller wandering monsters. The Primal Constructs had been effectively prevented from nesting within the confines of the town.

While they had successfully avoided the ire of the Cult, the Primal Constructs were more difficult to fully circumvent. As time went on, they were facing chance encounters with Primal Constructs that had progressed beyond the residents’ limited lethality. They couldn’t keep monsters trapped forever, and the elites were already pushing the limit that the low leveled residents could handle. Field Bosses certainly went beyond their capacity to defeat the monsters, and eventually, even the traps might not be enough to control the movement of even stronger foes. As the visits from the wandering warriors of the region became less frequent, and the assimilation allowed the Constructs to progress further, it was only a matter of time before a monster conquered the town.

Coop’s arrival had been a turning point. With the mana pylon’s influence, they weren’t facing a slow demise any longer, and more importantly, they weren’t completely dependent on the infrequent visits of wandering volunteer fighters who had their own difficulties to overcome.

Coop was popping in and out of the newly christened outpost ever since parting ways with Tzultacaj and Juliana in order to check in and see if either of the pair had appeared at the mutually agreed rendezvous point. So far, he had been left to his own devices for almost a week with no sign of either of them. Coop was keeping busy by sweeping the jungle for monsters, continuing to progress in his own way while destroying potential threats to his first claimed outpost. The process was arduous and trekking through the humid jungle presented a physical challenge that was enough to diminish his stamina in ways that were reminiscent of sprinting up and down his beach back home. He couldn’t help but look forward to a brief respite in one of the magic hammocks in Corozal after a long trip that included thousands of defeated elites.

When Coop returned from his most recent grind in the forest, he found the coastal town was already busier than Ghost Reef had been before the phantoms populated the island. Corozal wasn’t a large settlement by any means, but there was room for new arrivals even without expansion, with many vacant buildings waiting to be occupied.

The warriors of the Crossroads had arrived before Coop finished with the so-called Butterfly Cave. They had taken up roles as sentries, maintaining the same organization they had established in their village. The locals adapted their traps to incorporate the more active defenders, improving their defenses to previously unreachable levels, and temporarily staving off what seemed like an inevitable tide. The trap makers couldn’t hope to defeat even incapacitated monsters that progressed beyond certain levels, but the warriors of the Crossroads relied on their personal combat abilities to survive. The natural pairing of the two forces made the outpost stronger against Primal Construct incursions, elevating the combat efficacy of both groups, but it would inevitably draw attention from the Cult’s priests. In the short term, the Constructs were more of a threat, so it was a trade they had made willingly.

Neither of the two main groups would be hiding from prying eyes any longer. The jungle warriors of the Crossroads and the old profession masters had both been nearing their limits when it came to sustaining themselves in the face of the assimilation. Their strengths complimented each other nicely and it was high time that they joined forces to increase their chances of success. That Coop had been the catalyst was purely happenstance.

While the residents of Corozal were trading their concealment for more robust defenses, there were larger shifts happening in the region. When Coop was busy with his most recent hunt, a few more strangers had arrived in Corozal. Scarred veterans of the wilds were joining forces and making the journey through untamed jungles to reinforce the town. They had caught wind of potential changes, and they were at the point where if they didn’t make a move soon they would miss their last chance to do anything at all.

Unbeknownst to Coop, the Jaguar Sun was rising for a second time. Tzultacaj and Juliana were spreading the word and those who had continued to maintain their existences on the fringes of the Yucatan settlement were venturing beyond their hideouts once more to carry the message even further. As a result, the most courageous of the warriors were making their way to the outpost. They intended to add their strength to whatever Tzultacaj was building, trusting his integrity if not their overall chances.

For now, they were only a handful of battered fighters, having weathered the assimilation in small groups in the wilderness away from Chakyum’s influence after failing to overthrow the Cult. They were finding limited success without a civilization shard, facing the standard Primal Constructs as they progressed with the rise of mana. It was a struggle, but they wouldn’t be defeated by the regular increase of levels. It would take a proper system event, or an explicit campaign by the priests to wipe them out completely. Unfortunately, another event was inevitable, and the priests were always searching. Most of the hermit-like fighters had the awareness to accept the extent of their own limitations and willingly cooperated with other partisans. If pooling their remaining power would ever be effective, it would have to happen sooner than later.

It may have seemed like only wild animals were capable of carving their paths with the rise of violence necessary for survival, but that wasn’t always true. Pockets of humans were challenging the assimilation, and winning, but another day was never assured. Survival took a particular attitude that not many could adequately adopt. The ones that had already arrived in Corozal fell into routines with the other residents, offering their skills in scouting and defense, developed from hard times in the wilderness. They fit in easily enough. It was to the point that an outsider like Coop wouldn’t be able to distinguish between a person from the Crossroads, a local resident, or someone that had been surviving in the bush, but all of the regular inhabitants were able to vet the newcomers, cross referencing them with each other to confirm their identities, and make sure they weren’t harboring members of the Cult.

Before Coop had a chance to claim his hammock and review his own progress after completing another grind, he was being guided back out of the growing village in a new direction. There were more Cultists of Chakyum in the region, and one of them was occupying a base in the portion of the Yucatan that Coop was in the process of claiming. Amanda and Mikey B had been mapping the area and they discovered the exact location of a stronghold after being pointed in the direction by one of the newest arrivals. Even though Coop had been looking forward to another night in a hammock, he tried not to let his disappointment show.