What the hell, Taylor!!! (P33)

-Eight Years Post Saturation Completion. CONT.-

Regardless, finally, after advancing through multiple ranks, you earn a single point from leveling in the Gamma Rank, and according to Brenden, you get, as expected, 1.25 bonus stat points for Ranking up to Delta.

This meant that there was a rapid increase in strength when in the Gamma Rank, as you would earn 31.25 stat points by the time you ranked up, a 1.34 times increase from all you would obtain from leveling through to Gamma from the No-Rank. 

By this point, the total number of points you could earn by making it to the end of the Gamma rank was a mere 54.75 stat points. 

Although Brenden wasn't far in and only sat at level 12, it was safe to assume, based on the Pattern that had formed so far, Delta-Rank would have 40 levels, and if the ratio of points continues on its path, you should be earning 1.25 points per level for a total of 50 points excluding a bonus of 1.5 stat point boost on rank-up.  

By the end of Delta Rank, a Basic Human would have obtained 106.25 Stat points. Now imagine having a racial trait boosting the number of points, with my static +1.5 Stat point bonus per level…

"263.75 points…holy s***, if we had been born as High Humans, we would have earned 263.75 stat points by the time we were ready to Rank up to Zeta," I said in shock.

"Yeah…it equates to almost two and a half times stronger…and now you know how much more powerful the Myriad Races are than us. It's no wonder we got steamrolled in the beginning." Wiping away the metaphorical sweat accumulating on his brow, Brenden was slightly shaken by the astronomical difference in points. 

Being a Regular 2C Human, he and Emilia were earning an additional point due to their racial trait, and until I showed up, they were satisfied. Still, now that the numbers were out in the open, I could tell by their body language they were concerned about potential losses. 

"So I guess that means we should work on Evolution instead of solely increasing our rank…if not, we will be losing out massively in comparison to the Myriad races, and it won't be long until they pull too far ahead of us…if they haven't already." Emilia chimed in, feeling drastically more uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. 

"The Elves already have a handful of people nearing Zeta Rank…." Shattering their expectations, I spoke up, causing a deep sight to be released by my brother.

"Let me guess, you know a guy who knows a guy." Shaking his head and trying his best not to let that information get to him, Brenden retorted. 

"Nah, I just got back from slaughtering a group of Elves who swore their "Pride Legion" would deal with me in due time." Responding in a calm and aloof manner, as if it was a walk in the park, I dropped a big ball of scary info on their heads. 

"What the hell, Taylor!!! How many Elves have you killed to get a PL Bounty on your head!" Jumping to his feet with worry painted on his face, Brenden immediately began pacing around the room.

The name "Pride Legion" was nearly as infamous as my Alias', only instead of being a force of chaos, like Xipher was, The Pride Legion, or PL for short, was synonymous with Justice and cultural pride. 

They were the elite of the elite when it came to the Elven race, and although the group wasn't large quantifiably, they made up for it with quality. 

Not a whole lot was known about the PL; however, the few appearances they had made generally were followed by a media storm, as their target or targets were utterly wiped out in no time flat. 

As the best warriors of the Elven race, it wasn't much of a stretch to assume they were raised as a defense force from birth, and with their naturally long life spans, each of them had hundreds of years of combat experience. 

The reason Brenden had brought up the question about how many elves I had killed was simple: the PL was only disbursed against Targets who had caused great harm to the Elven people…which…I had done it many times over. 

"Uhhh…ima be honest, I have no clue; I kind of just chop 'em down the moment I spot those pointy-eared bastards. However, if I had to guess, I've got to be in quintuple digits by now." After thinking for a second and remembering the hundreds of times I'd fought against groups of elven warriors, I ended up losing count. 

Then, with a shrug, I ignored the incredulous look my words had earned and continued. 

"Regardless, it doesn't matter; I have yet to meet a single Elf with enough mental resistance to stop my Talent from working, so even if the PL comes knocking, I will deal with them and earn some juicy XP in the process." 

I ended up spending around two hours at Brenden and Emilia's mansion, wherein we talked about all sorts of topics, from how my brother had ousted the previous leadership in Vesaragon to the fact that the truth behind the 4th of July incident and the deaths of my family were attributed to the correct group of people, Heros instead of Villains. 

This caused a lot of backlash against those fellows, and they quickly vanished from the public eye, allowing Brenden and Emilia to take over the guild. 

As for my whereabouts, my brother covered and said I had died during the forming of a Perm-Instance in Florida, where I had stayed after the funeral; in turn, using the loss of his last living relative as an excuse as to why he was so vicious in his hostile takeover of the guild. 

The image he gave the public was that of a man who had lost all but his wife thanks to the negligence of the very heroes whose job it was to protect the innocent. 

Ironically enough, there happened to be a Vesaragon Branch not too far away from the random Instance that had failed to complete their tasks due to arrogance, so the story was easily believable.