The Newt and Demon - Book 3 Chapter 63,64,65 (Patreon)

Chapter 63

Khahar Departs

Sunlight filtered through the window in Theo’s room, casting shafts of light through the dusty air. He couldn’t remember the last time he dumped a bottle of [Cleansing Scrub] over his bedroom, but that was the least of his concerns. A barrage of system messages clouded his vision, worse than the particles of dust in the air. So many cores had rolled over to new levels that the window took up most of his sight.

[Drogramath Herbalist Core] received experience (8%).

[Drogramath Herbalist Core] leveled up! Level 18.

[Drogramath Alchemy Core] received experience (5%).

[Drogramath Alchemy Core] leveled up! Level 19.

[Governance Core] received experience (0.5%).

[Governance Core] received experience (0.2%).

[Governance Core] received experience (0.2%).

…

[Governance Core] leveled up! Level 20.

[Theo Spencer] received experience (5%).

[Theo Spencer] leveled up! Level 19.

[Theo Spencer] received one free point.

Spending the entire night in the Dreamwalk was doubling his progress. It was better than the real world for grinding levels, even if the products he made didn’t matter. Theo considered where to put his free point, but more [Intelligence] would help over anything else. One more level, and he’d find himself with a magic-based core. That assumed that Khahar made good on his promise, contacting Toru’aun and setting him up with a demon mage core. While he didn’t normally like leaving things to chance, the alchemist had few other options. He’d take his time to pick the skill for his [Governance Core].

He inspected his attributes screen, distributing the free point into [Intelligence].

Belgar (Theo Spencer)

Drogramath Dronon

Level 19

Alchemist

Core Slots: 4

Stats:

Health: 105

Mana: 160

Stamina: 115

Strength: 20 (+11)

Dexterity: 16 (+8)

Vigor: 20 (+8)

Intelligence: 23 (+9)

Wisdom: 27 (+7)

Points: 0

That single level meant a lot. Perhaps not as much as the ascension into the level 30 range, but it was big. Another core meant he could lend himself better to the defense of Broken Tusk. With his Axpashi improving, he’d leafed through Xol’sa’s book in the Dreamwalk. With enough of it memorized, he saw how the Elf’s theories about the core would benefit him and the town. He theorized that the Demon Lady’s wards were much like limited-use enchantments. They were all reactive, and could be applied to almost everything. The example given in the book was a miner’s pick with a ward to imbue it with greater power, allowing the miner to take a few strings with impossible strength.

Tresk placed her hand over Theo’s shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts. He turned, finding her with a faint smile on her face. They shared more than just feelings, now. He didn’t need to tell her about his excitement for the new core. It just bled between them, turning their thoughts brackish with a mingling existence.

“Breakfast time,” Theo said, rubbing his hands together.

Another thing to be excited about was their private booth. While their table by the window was all but reserved, they still had to contend with the crowds. The pair left the lab, running into a gaggle of people on the street. There were more fresh faces in town, not accounted for by the surge of Elves. More refugees, fleeing from the north to find a home in the swamp town. Theo was glad to have them. Strong back and determination would win their little rebellion, if it ever came to that.

The booth was as pleasant as last night. Theo swept his tail through the air, watching as Alex nestled in her box in the corner. The view outside the window was better, even if obscured slightly by the bathhouse. He could see the boiling rooms where the town’s water was purified. The adventurers walked the walls, guarding it more like soldiers than anything. They moved in groups of three now, never straying far from their squads. More like a military every single day.

“They’re more like mercenaries,” Tresk said, reading Theo’s thoughts.

“Maybe. Soldiers get pay. What’s the line between soldier and mercenary?” Theo asked.

Tresk tapped her fingers on the table, humming for a moment. During her thinking, the server brought the leftovers from last night. This time, there was no mead, only the deliciously sweet moss tea.

“Thank you,” Theo said, flicking the server a silver coin. It seemed wise to tip now that he had a private booth. That act added to the illusion of his power.

“Soldiers fight for a cause. Mercenaries fight for money,” Tresk said, finally allowing her thoughts to form.

“But you can’t assume the motives of every adventurer in town.” Theo picked through his leftover salad, finding only the largest chunk of crumbly Karatan cheese. “We’re not a nation—yet—but that’s exactly what these people are fighting for. The town.”

“Yeah, keyword ‘yet’ on that whole thing.” Tresk pushed the salad to the side and devoured her meal. “But, you’re right. They’re something else entirely. An adventurer army.”

Theo nodded, sipping his tea. “How many of them fight for the top ranks?”

“Maybe everyone in the top 20. Not that anyone can catch me,” Tresk said, posing heroically. “No, but they’re talking about integrating our non-guild with Rivers and Gronro. I heard that Dwarf-dude is losing his shoes trying to get in on that deal. Aarok already has a few of his guys running the [Swamp Dungeon].”

Theo picked through the parts of his food that he liked. The tea was the only thing he really needed to get the day going, but it was hard to resist the cheese. Once the silence had set in, Alex chirped, as though she had something to add to the conversation. Her sounds became more frantic as the moments rolled on, ending with her tumbling from the box and pecking at their heels.

“Calm down, bird,” Tresk said, picking the growing gosling up to cradle her. “What’s going on?”

The chirping continued. But a sound issued from outside the tavern sent Theo’s blood running cold. A spike of adrenaline flooded him as the frantic clatter of warning bells issued from the walls. It started with a single, distant bell ringing rapidly. Then it was joined by others along the wall. Tresk’s daggers were in her hands in an instant, and she disappeared into the shadows.

A few heartbeats later, she sent a mental message to Theo.

Ships. On the horizon—a whole damn fleet, she said.

Cheep!

Theo stuffed Alex in his satchel and ran from the tavern, downing a [Potion of LImited Foresight] and rushing to the town square. Aarok was sprinting, his footfalls matching the frantic pace of the balls. The two men joined on the road, headed for the eastern gate.

“An attack?” Theo asked.

“No idea.”

There was no sign of an attack at the eastern gate. Aarok ascended the battlements to get a report, and Theo sprinted south to the other side of the harbor. Up on those battlements, he could see ships far in the distance. They rolled in on a bank of fog, obscured so that none of their features could be discerned. Adventurers scrambled around him, pushing past on the narrow path and asking for orders. Theo just stared.

“They’ve finally arrived,” Khahar said, appearing behind Theo.

“An attack?” Theo asked. No one would be suicidal enough to sail up the river to face their towers. Right?

“My people. The clergy of my cult come to take me home,” Khahar said. He let out a slow breath.

All the tension released from Theo’s body. His shoulders relaxed, giving way to the logic of his mind. Khahar had mentioned that his people were coming to get him, even if the Khahari leader could just teleport back to his home. The tension came back when Tresk sent another message.

I’m about to jump onto the boat and murder these idiots! Tresk shouted.

Stop! Theo shouted back. They’re Khahar’s people. Come to collect him.

Man. Alright. Standing down.

Theo opened his mayoral interface and wrote a message, sending it town-wide.

[Theo]: They’re Khahar’s people. Everyone stand down. Report to me, south of the harbor on the wall.

Theo realized the scale of the ships he was seeing. The mouth of the river was miles away, but the sails still stood proud on the horizon. Moments ago, they’d loomed like harbingers of their own. Now they seemed more tame and inviting, heralds of a man’s ascension into godhood.

“Are you ready to go?” Theo asked.

Khahar leaned against the wall. He looked tired. “It’s not death, like you might imagine. Honestly, I can’t wait to be gone. Spencer… They’re insufferable. They hound me day and night. ‘Khahar, what is your great wisdom? How can I be a better person?’ I don’t know! Stop being an asshole.”

Theo tried not to laugh—he really did. But in moments, both he and the god-like figure were holding stitches in their sides, laughing at the absurd situation. Once the alchemist’s breath came back to him, he looked at his old friend. Those unfamiliar eyes shone with excitement. A new adventure.

“How long will it take?” Theo asked.

“Instantaneous, once I get back,” Khahar said. “Time moves slower in the godly realms. Depending on the strength of the realm, it will move even slower. With the power I accumulated, I’ll have a realm powerful enough to rival the combined Pantheons.”

“Then what?” Theo asked. “To what end?”

Khahar cast Theo a knowing look, a smile creeping into his face. “Then I’ll shatter the barrier between the pantheons. Kill Zagmon, Fan’glir, the Eye, and a few others.”

“So, nothing big?” Theo asked. “Just relax for a while. Take it easy?”

“No such luxury. If my math is right, a second in this world will equal a year in mine. Time in the heavenly realms is the currency. That’s why the gods have such trouble influencing the mortal realm. Imagine if you started a plan down here, and watched your agents take plodding steps.”

“Will you be watching me?”

“I’ve already reached an agreement… Well, I can’t say exactly what agreement I made with who. Yes, I’ll watch over the Southland Defensive Alliance.”

A clatter of footsteps issued behind the pair. Aarok, Luras, and every adventurer in town came running, crowding the wall and the area beneath it.

“They’re your people?” Aarok asked, hand itching toward the dagger at his hip.

“They are,” Khahar said, gesturing vaguely to the sea. “Come to collect their wayward god.”

With the joking over, Khahar reverted to sounding completely bored.

“Can you keep that promise?” Aarok asked.

“Unfortunately,” Khahar said, letting out a heavy sigh. “It’s been nice living here. I wish I could stay for longer. But my task can fall to no other.”

The chatter from the adventurers was the only sound near the wall. Khahar just stared off toward the coast, as though this was something he’d been dreading for a long time. Theo’s hope was that he would be happier in the heavenly realm. If being near his own people was so burdensome, then that should have been a relief.

Cat people are going ashore. I’m tailing them. Heh. Get it?

Alex chirped from Theo’s bag, scrambling to remove herself from it. Khahar turned, smiling at the gosling and scooping her up. Frantic chirps led to the man nodding as though he understood. He produced a handful of wiggling beetles, holding his palm flat for her to peck at.

“You take care of him, Alex D’Goose. You hear me?” Khahar asked.

Theo spotted the figures moving along the river. They were all Khahari, dressed in shades of yellow and brown. The one leading them wore a tall hat, decorated with gleaming yellow gems. The cat-person looked ancient, gray streaking through their fur. Aarok and Theo just watched them approach, eyes occasionally flicking to the towers. Just in case.

“Lord Khahar!” the lead Khahari shouted. He got to his knees, pressing his forehead into the dirt. “The time has come for you to ascend. Please! Don’t make your faithful wait a moment longer!”

It took Theo a long moment to realize what language the Khahari priest was speaking. Khahar stood next to Theo, a massive grin on his face. One last joke from Yuri.

“Did you teach your people Russian?” Theo asked, mouth hanging open in shock.

Khahar burst out laughing, slapping the wall. After a while, he wiped tears from his eyes.

“I told them it was the holy language,” Khahar said, trying to stifle his laughs. “The system made me start with Khahari, but I still remembered all my old languages. Ah. Good times.”

If not for his endless mingling with people in Moscow, Theo wouldn’t have understood the joke. The Russian language the Khahari priest spoke was rough. The pronunciation was bad, even while shouted, but the alchemist got the point. But it was nice to see more of the old Yuri. The good-natured jokester.

“That’s how I remember you,” Theo said, slapping Khahar’s shoulder. “Tossing jokes until the end.”

Khahar nodded, turning and pulling Theo into a hug. The alchemist tried to keep his head in that moment. But something hot stung at the edges of his eyes, breaking the surface to trace a line down his cheek. He hugged his old friend back with everything he had, pulling away only to watch Yuri’s grin spread across that cat-person’s face.

“A trade ship will arrive soon. See ya in heaven,” Yuri said, disappearing and reappearing with his people outside the wall.

“See ya in hell!” Theo shouted down in Russian. That got the attention of the group of Khahari priests. They looked up as though the alchemist had committed some mortal sin. Yuri just laughed, walking toward the beach without another word.

Alex pecked at Theo’s shoe, so he picked her up. He cradled her in his arms, pressing his face into her plumage. Tresk emerged from the shadows, producing a small length of cloth from nowhere and holding it out for him to take.

“A hankie for these trying times?” she asked.

Theo took it, dabbing his eyes. Even with an audience, he didn’t care. It was like losing Earth again. Even though he knew it would happen, the moment that Yuri departed hurt more than he thought it would. Only the calming wave of comfort coming from both Alex and Tresk banished those feelings away. The slow murmur of chatter from the adventurers, kicked up again by Khahar’s departure, helped him snap out of it. He returned the handkerchief to Tresk and nodded his approval.

“Right,” Theo said, clapping his hands together. “One problem solved. A million to go.”

“Come on,” Aarok said, reaching out to grab Theo by the arm. His attempt missed, thanks to the [Potion of Lesser Foresight]. Tresk’s daggers were in her hands. She crouched low, ready to vanish into the shadows and strike. The Half-Ogre gave her a flat look. “We need to talk about this. In private.”

“Use your words, dummy,” Tresk said, refusing to return her weapons to her hips.

“Let’s go,” Luras said, turning away.

Theo shrugged, following them through the crowd on the wall. He made a note of how his potion activated when Aarok attempted to grab his arm. That meant the Half-Ogre intended to restrain him, not just grab his arm. So even grappling counted as an attack.

Aarok acting real funny all the sudden, Tresk said.

Her concerns were apparent through the Tara’hek, but Theo didn’t agree with her feelings. Aarok wasn’t trying to control them. He was scared. The alchemist didn’t blame him. As Khahar walked along the river, headed for a fleet of Khahari warships, Broken Tusk was left at the mercy of one god. The Burning Eye might see this as a chance to act. The group found their way to Aarok’s private office, all taking seats in the cool air.

“Now we’re open to an attack,” Aarok said. “As much as having a powerful person in town is bad, now we have a target on our backs.”

“You think so?” Luras asked, leaning against the wall. He never seemed to sit in these meetings. “If the eye was so petty, wouldn’t he have acted?”

“Is the eye even a boy or a girl? Isn’t it just a big old eye?” Tresk asked, scratching her head.

“The eye doesn’t have an agent to act,” Theo said. “Did I mention Uharis and Sulvan are on the moon?”

“What?” Aarok asked, blinking slowly. Theo could see his mind trying to catch up with reality.

“Khahar put them on Antalis,” Theo said plainly. “I don’t know if they can get back, or how long that would take.”

“Yeah, screw them,” Tresk said. “We’ll get strong before they get back.”

“Level 130 strong?” Luras laughed.

“Yeah! Maybe… I don’t know,” Tresk said, her ego deflating a bit.

The situation wasn’t good, but this was Theo’s fault. He should have thought about the implications of having someone that powerful in his town, throwing his weight around. They knew he would leave one day, leaving an opening for other gods to act against them. Especially the ones that they pissed off.

“We hang our hopes on one thing,” Theo said, knocking the table to gain attention over the argument. Luras and Tresk had engaged in a shouting match over the issue. “It’s the same hope we’ve always had, right? Drogramath will protect us, if it comes to gods attacking us. They can’t act directly—Khahar was an exception. He wasn’t a god, yet.”

“Consider the fact that Khahar promised to attack the other gods the moment he ascended, including the Burning Eye,” Aarok said, finally helping Theo be the voice of reason. “They’ll be too busy with him to worry about us.”

This was normally the time that Tresk would promise to stab the Burning Eye personally, paying no heed to the fact that he was a god. But Theo felt the response building in her mind reach a measured conclusion. It was strange.

“And we’ll be ready for whatever else comes with that,” Tresk said.

Chapter 64

To Found a Kingdom

Theo avoided confronting his feelings about Yuri departing. All this time he was thinking of him as Khahar, another man entirely, and that wasn’t a lie. So much time in this world had changed him, but there was a glimmer of that Russian spy in there somewhere. But as that realization hit him, another one of solace came in just as strong. He didn’t belong in this world. The realm of the gods awaited him, and there couldn’t have been a higher calling than that. Right?

Aarok went on about the defense of the town, doubling patrols and increasing the size of squads. But Theo was left feeling a deep sense of comfort where he expected grief. Reports rolled in from adventurers about the departing Khahari, others from the walls stating that everything was quiet. If the Burning Eye had plans to strike, he didn’t play his hand now.

More concerning reports came from Aarok’s lips, telling of reports from Gronro-Dir.

“They’ve already been hit,” Aarok said. “A small wave of [Skeletal Warriors] made their way down Murder Passage.”

“That reminds me,” Theo said. “I have a communication crystal for both leaders.”

The midday sun filtered through Aarok’s lone window. Just like Theo’s bedroom, this room could have used a few units of [Cleansing Scrub]. There was dust in the air, blown around by the constant buzz of the air conditioner. The alchemist splashed some cleanser on the ground, watching as the magic scrubbed the room clean. It didn’t remove the particles of dust in the air, leaving them floating through the shafts of light. Maybe that was a change he could make for the air conditioners Throk had invented. An air purifier.

But those were just idle thoughts brought to stave the accusatory stares coming from Aarok and Luras. Tresk didn’t seem to care.

“Those would have been useful,” Aarok said.

“I have to hand it to them myself,” Theo said. “They attach to the first person they touch. That’s what Fenian said.”

“Fine. We’ll sort it later. But I had a point,” Aarok said. “Their defenses are crap. We should send aid.”

“In what form?” Theo asked. “Aren’t we already helping by training their people?”

“Immediate aid. Even a single [Chain Lightning Tower] would help,” Aarok said.

“So, it’s a matter of money,” Theo said. “Right. You want to split the cost with the town?”

“Assuming Fenian has one,” Aarok said, softening a bit. “If we can’t get one today, there’s no point.”

Theo let it sink in for a moment. Undead had already reached as far south as Gronro. What that meant for the northlands was beyond him, but it couldn’t have been good. There were also the towns between the south and Qavell to consider. How long could they hold out without the aid of the kingdom? All these facts made the defense of Murder Passage even more important, placing it at the top of the alchemist’s priorities.

“Did we misjudge something?” Theo asked, trying to see a flaw in their logic. They’d prepared well, but had no experience working with other towns. If the horde descended on Broken Tusk, they’d be fine.

“We’re new to this,” Tresk said. “We’ll stumble a few times, but we’ll get it.”

“Tresk is right,” Luras said, cutting off Aarok before he could speak. “We can’t expect to get it right every time. Aarok is doing his best.”

The phrasing of that statement was specific. Theo took a moment to study the Half-Ogre guildmaster’s face. Anger lingered on his face, but the thing resting behind his eyes was fear, and disappointment. He realized, perhaps a little late, how this affected Aarok most of all.

“I said we,” Theo said, punctuating the statement by smacking his fist on the table. “No one in the command structure carries a burden alone. If everyone in this room—and the administration staff—missed something as simple as arming Gronro, we’re all to blame.”

“Broken Tusk doesn’t carry the burden of outsiders,” Tresk said. “We’re not some well-funded empire.”

“Well said,” Luras said, patting her on the head. Theo often forgot how close they were before he arrived.

“Fine. Done grabbing each other’s butts?” Aarok said, huffing a breath. “Here’s the plan. I’ll spend the guild’s funds on towers. We’ll use Theo’s contracts to give them on loan to Gronro. Pitch in whatever you can from the town’s funds, and your personal funds.”

“I have some cash,” Tresk said with a shrug.

“Yeah, me too,” Luras said.

“I have 50 gold to pitch in, if needed,” Theo said. But that was all his money.

“Right. Perfect. This doesn’t leave this room. I don’t want people thinking we’re in a financial pinch. If they think we need to collect money from random people… Yeah, I don’t know what they’ll do,” Aarok said.

Theo could see the Half-Ogre’s nerves wearing thin. He didn’t realize how stressful the defense of the town was, let alone the defense of another one. The alchemist stood, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll sort it out. Stop stressing,” Theo said. “I’ll find that Elf and see how many towers he has in stock.”

Theo turned to leave the room without another word, Tresk following close behind. The Marshling cradled Alex in her arms, kissing her on the head. Aarok and Luras remained, falling into discussion the moment they cleared the room.

It was getting harder to find Fenian in town. Even if the trader’s carriage train was resting near the ranch, the Elf himself was nowhere near it. Theo had to run around town, asking if anyone had seen him before getting a tip. He was near the mine, hanging out with the miners and trading tales to anyone that would listen.

Theo and Tresk headed to the southern part of town, finding Fenian outside the mine. He was standing on a crate, all the miners of Dead Dog Mine sitting cross legged and enraptured.

“...and then I said to the Shadow Prince, ‘if you want him, come and get him!’,” Fenian said, ending the statement with a flourish. “Oh. The alchemist is here. Sorry, but I’ll have to continue this story another time.”

The miners issued a collective groan, all eyes turning to Theo.

“I need some towers,” Theo said, shrugging off the stares.

“Business? A worthy reason for interrupting a tale,” Fenian said, jumping from the crate and grabbing Theo by the arm. He dragged him down the road, Tresk following closely behind. “I have 2 [Chain Lightning Towers] in my inventory. The last towers I’ll get my hands on for a while.

“Standard price?” Theo asked.

“Indeed,” Fenian said.

Theo removed 20 gold from his inventory and handed it over. If everyone was in such dire financial straits, he was happy to carry that burden. The less the people felt the strain, the better.

“Thanks,” Theo said, placing the turrets in his inventory. “Actually, I wonder if you could deliver these to Gronro for me. And the communication crystals.”

“What was the point of me handing them over, then?” Fenian asked, laughing. “Let me see… I have to leave tomorrow. It’s a long journey, but I suppose I can stop by Rivers and Gronro. As a favor.”

“Does that mean you’re heading north?” Theo asked.

“Yes, but cardinal directions mean little on the Bridge. They’re more vague suggestions than anything.”

“Could you take someone with you? One of my administration needs to have Grot sign a contract.”

“Of course. No problem,” Fenian said, playing with the feather on his hat. Anytime the trader was around, it reminded Theo of his own absurd hat. “I heard Khahar left town. Finally.”

“Is that cause for concern?”

“No. You should be fine. They will be busy.”

Fenian either knew more than he was letting on, or he was just guessing his way through this. At that moment, Theo couldn’t figure out which was worse. But he was reminded of the trader’s intentions. At every turn, he was there for the betterment of Broken Tusk. He was more than an ally; he was a friend.

“How is Galflower doing?” Theo asked. He knew better than to ask how the Elf was doing. Better to ask about his favorite Karatan.

“Oh, she’s loving it,” Fenian said, giving Theo an excited look. “Days ago, she was grazing on the rampant energy of the Taranthian highlands. Now she gets more of her favorite food. Drogramath’s unfiltered energy. It’s the closest thing to her preference. Which is Uz’Xulven’s power.”

Since he had the Elf’s attention, Theo led him to the eastern wall. Fenian wouldn’t normally follow him around like this, but he seemed bored. They toured the defenses, spotting that the shipwright team were making the rough shape of a boat. They talked about the town, and the importance of the alliance. Somewhere near the eastern gate, near the bridge, they landed on Qavell.

“What happens if Qavell is destroyed?” Theo asked. “What happens to the towns connected to the [Kingdom Core].”

“They’ll degrade,” Fenian said. “You can feed them motes and materials to prolong the effects of the magic, but it’s only a matter of time. You’ll need another [Kingdom Core] to keep it alive.”

“I’m not interested in running a kingdom,” Theo said, peering into the distance. He hoped to spot those bandits, but there was nothing to the east or the north.

“Good news!” Fenian said. “You can select many governments.”

“Can you find me a [Kingdom Core]?” Theo asked.

“I’m having a hard enough time finding your mint,” Fenian said after a long pause. “I know a Coresmith in Tarantham, but they’re backed up. To get a [Kingdom Core], you’d need to delve into a high-level dungeon and get really lucky. Or get an equally high-level Coresmith to do the job.”

“How high?” Tresk asked, reminding everyone that she was always lurking in the shadows.

“I’ve heard about level 80 dungeons dropping them. Good luck finding a level 80 dungeon, though. Seems about the same level for the Coresmith, but that’s more about the person’s skills,” Fenian said. His eyes lingered over the harbor. “I can’t wait to see ships docking there.”

Theo paused for a long moment. There was no way they’d find a [Kingdom Core] on short notice, and despite the trader’s words he didn’t want to be a king. Only time showed him he wanted to be a mayor, but that was tenuous. If there was an option where he could save Broken Tusk, Rivers and Daub, and Gronro-Dir without making them his subjects, that would be ideal. He wanted them to have autonomy, to an extent. Maybe a duchy.

But all the thoughts of expanding his power led him to think about Fenian’s involvement.

“Why are you helping us?” Theo asked. “Actual answers only.”

“Would I ever lie to you?”

“Yes.”

Fenian let out a heavy sigh. He averted his gaze from both Tresk and Theo.

“When House Southblade fell, it wasn’t a quick thing. The empire cut us off from the [Kingdom Core] and let us die a slow death. They knew they couldn’t take us on brute strength. We’d have depleted their army. What good is one champion against famine?”

Fenian let that hang in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. The same thing that happened to Broken Tusk happened to House Southblade. It was different, but similar enough to send a twinge of pain through Theo’s chest. Qavell left the southlands to rot over time, not directly removing them from the kingdom.

“So, I see my people in your town. When I arrived, I saw those hungry eyes. But the path to strength isn’t paved by handouts. The stones and mortar set in that road are hard won battles,” Fenian said, letting those words linger in the air. “You’ve already paved your road with hard work. With sweat and blood. With stone and ore—potions and lumber. And some luck.  I’m just making sure you get what you deserve.”

Theo felt a rush of emotion from Tresk. That hit home for her more than him, and he felt the years under the yoke of Qavell weigh heavily on his soul. The Bantari peoples, and the Half-Ogres native to Broken Tusk, were driven to near extinction over several hundred years. King Karasan would regret his decision to turn his eyes from the town. If the undead horde didn’t destroy his kingdom, the Southlands Defensive Alliance would come knocking in a few years. The twin heart the alchemist shared with Tresk guaranteed it.

“Music to my ears,” Tresk said.

Alex chirped her agreement.

“I already said it, but we’re with you,” Theo said.

“I know. When my next job is done, I’ll return to Broken Tusk for refuge,” Fenian said. “When you establish your seat of power, I hope you accept an old friend. Even after what he has to do.”

“Always.”

Fenian was a master of changing the subject. Theo had pushed him, over the days, to talk more plainly. While the Elf was happy to do so, it came with a weight that stifled the air. When he changed the subject back to Galflower, and by extension Alex, the alchemist was happy to entertain it. The Karatan that drove his carriages weren’t familiars, but they shared a special bond. When asked if Alex could bond with Uz’Xulven, using the Bridge, Fenian couldn’t answer.

“The price might be too heavy for you, dear alchemist,” was Fenian’s only comment on the matter.

Theo, Tresk, and Fenian spent hours talking about whatever. Whenever things roamed to serious topics, they were quickly diverted. Eventually, the Elf asked about his potions. The alchemist was happy to lead the way back to the Newt and Demon to show off his wares. Salire was in the shop talking with a customer. She bowed her head at the Elf trader but offered no other words, too engrossed with a paying customer to pay them any mind.

The first potion Theo showed Fenian was the [Vigor Potion] with the [Refined Elemental Earth] modifier. The alchemist inspected it as he handed it over.

[Vigor Potion]

[Refined Elemental Earth]

[Potion] [Modified Potion]

Epic

Created by: Belgar

Grade: Excellent Quality

Alignment:

Drogramath (Middling Bond)

Drink to enhance vigor.

Drink to increase resistance scaling.

Effect:

+14 Vigor for 1.75 hours.

For 1.25 hours, your physical resistances scale 1.30 times better than normal.

“The scaling effect is the important part here,” Fenian said, comparing the [Vigor Potion] and a [Dexterity Potion]. “Yes, the attribute enhancement is great but… These potions would be effective no matter what your level. Hard to say what price I’d get these for. Anywhere from 5 to 20 silver a potion, depending on the buyer.”

The problem with making more powerful potions was finding the right buyer. That’s why Theo was focusing on making tailor-made potions for the citizens of Broken Tusk. The point with that wasn’t to make a massive profit, but to provide the most benefit to his people. Everything influenced everything else. If the adventurers were performing better, the laborers could work without fear they’d be eaten by a monster. If the laborers were happier, they produced more, which made more money for the town.

There would come a time when Theo had to renegotiate his contracts with everyone, something he didn’t know how to approach. The more industry he owned in town, the more he felt like a fascist dictator. Those thoughts never stopped him from expanding his holdings, which didn’t help matters. He wondered what the difference between someone who held all the power for the good of their people, and one that held it for themself was. But he was never one for politics. He just wanted to see his town, and the alliance grow. Maybe that was enough.

“I don’t feel like negotiating,” Theo said. “We’re in a transitional period, and Broken Tusk considers you a close ally. Whatever you can pay.”

“We’ll settle on the bare-minimum of market value,” Fenian said. “With a 10% discount because you love me so much.”

Fenian was very interested in the [Potions of Lesser Foresight]. Theo made sure he knew the limitations of the potion. Anyone who drank them could only drink one every 6 hours, otherwise they’d grow deathly ill. Theo had plenty of [Pozwa Horns] from the ranch, and began brewing a full batch for the Elf as they went over the other potions. Fenian needed as many health, mana, and stamina potions as they had, but took interest in his other creations. Especially poisons.

“We don’t normally sell poisons to outsiders,” Tresk said. “But you’re our dude.”

“The one with [Anti-Mage] interests me,” Fenian said.

This was the poison that Tresk considered a “mage killer”. She wasn’t wrong. As Theo inspected the poison, he reflected on how deadly it was.

[Poison]

[Anti-Mage]

[Poison] [Modified Poison]

Epic

Created by: Belgar

Grade: Excellent Quality

Alignment:

Drogramath (Middling Bond)

Coat your weapon to deal additional damage over time to an enemy.

Chance to inflict 2 stacks per hit.

Effect:

Cripples an enemy, reducing their Dexterity by 5.

Applies a stacking DOT effect based on poison quality. Maximum 15 stacks. Poison inflicts DOT damage. Targets inflicted with this poison take 1 point of damage for every mana spent, multiplied by the amount of stacks. This applies to ongoing spells cast before the poison was applied.

Stacks of poison take twice as long to fade.

Removing a stack of poison through any means other than the natural expiration of the effect causes the remaining stacks of poison to explode, dealing their remaining damage to the target.

If a mage didn’t understand the effects of the poison, they would die quickly. If they did understand the effects, they were locked down for the duration of the poison. Both options meant it earned its name and reflected Fenian’s desire to fight at least one mage.

After the [Pozwa Horns] were distilled into [Lesser Foresight Essence], and brewed into a variety of potions with different modifiers, they settled into negotiations. Theo paid little attention to this part, letting Fenian set the terms. The alchemist was just happy to have weapons for Gronro, and more [Monster Cores] than he needed. They ended the deal, settling on 30 gold for potions worth far more than that. Those potions included an array of [Hallow Ground] potions, both in bomb form and otherwise.

“Well, this has been an eventful day,” Fenian said, stuffing everything in his inventory. “Pretty Half-Ogre… Lurking on the other side of the door. Care to join us for dinner?”

A lilting, stammering voice came from the other side of the door before Salire stumbled inside. Her red-tinged skin was stained a deeper shade as she tried to get the words out.

“We’ll take that as ‘yes’,” Tresk said, giggling.

Chapter 65

Blood and Stone

Fenian, with too much elegance, twirled his fork in Zee pasta before slurping it down with grace. “Life is better when you have a private section at a tavern.”

Theo, Tresk, Alex, Fenian, and Salire sat in the private booth at Xam’s tavern. While the day wasn’t as busy as it had been in recent memory, the alchemist enjoyed the slow pace. The food was great, even if he declined the imported mead. While he felt no aversion to the drink, he simply enjoyed water with his meal. When something was produced as the fruit of Broken Tusk labor, it tasted sweeter than any mead could.

No progress had been made on finding the strange people lurking outside the walls. Theo received reports that Ziz’s team, working on the road, hadn’t been accosted. Patrols around the dungeon had tripled, even through the night, and the alchemist dedicated a small team of golems to roaming the area.

Fenian and Salire chatted, although Theo couldn’t tell if it was with more than friendly interest. The Elf often sought to flatter those around him, so it likely meant he was interested in her in a mercantile capacity. Perhaps she was his next project, like Azrug was. No matter his intentions, it was nice to have more company at the dinner table.

“I wanna tour the road tomorrow,” Tresk said. “Ziz made some progress. They’re well beyond the bridge.”

Theo picked at his foot, considering the importance of the road. “Maintenance on the road will be a problem. Can we incorporate it into the town, somehow?”

“I think so,” Fenian said.

But he left it at that. The Elf normally had far more to say on these matters, so it was disheartening. Running the town was hard enough without having to guess at how things worked. If they couldn’t bring elements like the road into the town, Broken Tusk would simply need to establish a permanent group that maintained buildings without seed cores. Ziz would sort that out. He had already proved himself worthy of the position. Expanded projects, such as the highway and tunnel, would fall under their umbrella. Once again, Theo thought too far ahead. It was better to focus on what was right in front of him.

“Yeah, we should see the road,” Theo said.

“Assuming it’s safe enough,” Salire said.

Fenian puffed his chest out, grinning. “It’s always safe enough with Uncle Fenian around.”

Maybe this was a chance to get that mysterious band to reveal themselves. Theo had enough tricks up his sleeve to stay safe, even if he was attacked. It would take the force of a god to stop him in his tracks. But there was something in Fenian’s eyes that revealed he knew something. A glimmer of knowledge he wasn’t sharing. It was as though the Elf was expecting something to happen without revealing what that was. The alchemist’s intuition told him it was a good thing, even if it didn’t tell him directly. So much of dealing with superior intuition was about trust. His Drogramathi cores whispered their approval. No matter what happened, it would end well.

The conversation around the table didn’t stray far from Broken Tusk’s situation. Fenian was confident they’d have boats soon, and promised to put them in contact with traders from far-off lands. Theo’s disappointment rested with Khahar’s departure. While it was nice to see an old friend, he left nothing to give them a head-start on trading with the Khahari. When they came to collect their leader, they left no instructions on initiating trade. Perhaps that was Yuri’s way of keeping his promise to not cheat, but it stung more than he expected.

“There aren’t trade routes from here to the Khahari Desert,” Fenian said. “We’ll need to map those out ourselves.”

“Khahar said trade ships would arrive. Although, I don’t know how long that will take,” Theo said.

“Or how many of them will be left,” Fenian said. “Why don’t you make the journey to the holy desert? Scared of sailing?”

“If the monsters on land are anything to go by, the ones in the sea would be worse.” Theo drummed his fingers on the table. He might have been afraid of the monsters at sea, but the killer would be boredom on the open ocean. Weeks or months confined in a ship’s cabin. It didn’t appeal to him.

“It’s been an age since I sailed,” Fenian said. “When I first arrived on the continent.”

“Yeah, screw that,” Tresk said.

Fenian paused his elegant consumption of the noodles. “Don’t you have an affinity for the water? As a Bantari?”

“Maybe fresh water. Shallow pools,” Tresk said, leaking back with a contented sigh.

“So what happens after Khahar ascends?” Theo asked. It was nice to have a calm evening, but those questions lingered like smoldering coals in his mind.

“Chaos in the heavens. They don’t want him to ascend, you know. Most of them, anyway,” Fenian said. “I have theories, but nothing more. The process of becoming a god isn’t documented.”

Theo picked at his food, pushing the noodles around and slurping up the strays when he wanted. There was a lot to consider with Khahar’s ascension. Followers of other gods might come to cause trouble in Broken Tusk, but there’s no way the leader could have stayed here forever. The road ahead was uncertain, but that was nothing new. A wave of calm flowed from both Alex and Tresk, the Marshling’s confidence overwhelming. Whatever happened, they’d sort it out.

Their conversation diminished again, shifting to smaller topics. Fenian was evasive about his current trade deals, and Theo let him have that. When the Elf departed, he’d take with him either Alise or Gwyn to form a contract in Gronro. That led to talks about wider trade, something Broken Tusk needed desperately.

“How about a bath?” Theo asked, finally having his fill of the food. He left his plate mostly full, a knot in his stomach. Tresk didn’t seem to notice.

“What danger?” Tresk asked, jumping into the hot pool and swimming around.

The group had moved from the tavern, finding Theo’s private room at the bathhouse and settling in. The alchemist set the enchanted Khahari box near the pool’s edge, studying the many strange symbols on the surface.

“On the road,” Theo responded idly. “When we go to inspect it.”

“Oh, just bring your army,” Fenian said, settling into the bath. The water came up to his shoulders and he let out a contented sigh. “Should be good enough to deal with some bandits.”

“Also we have you,” Tresk said, splashing water on the Elf. He didn’t flinch. “To swoop in and save us.”

“It won’t always be that way.”

Theo was half-listening, focused on the box. What would Yuri leave him that would make a difference? Why did it have to be sealed away? There were too many questions to face, and the bath was far too comfortable. But Fenian took notice, edging over to stare at the engraved container.

Fenian cocked his head, poking the box before shrugging. “Did he say what was inside?”

“Nope. Just said I’d need it,” Theo said.

“Bet it’s useful,” Tresk said. “He took that spiritstone coin away. The one I stole.”

“Allow me to tell you a tale of my people,” Fenian said, cracking his knuckles. “The common belief is that the Elves have been in Tarantham since the dawn of the world. Endless creatures of wonder and might. But that is not the case. Like many things in this world, we were sucked into that cycle of destruction and rebirth.”

“Why does that happen?” Theo said, cutting the Elf off before he could continue. “How does it happen? The system seems more like a well-tuned program than a natural law.”

Fenian failed to hide the smile on his face, although he tried. “Because the bastard gods were meant to stay where they are. This is my theory, of course… But they bent the rules. You only need to look at Balkor entering our realm to see that as true.”

“Bah,” Tresk grunted, splashing around with Alex. “How can you know?”

Fenian shrugged. “Back to my story. Destruction and rebirth. Gods and cores. Levels and plateaus. We experienced rapid expansion in my house. More than the empire would suffer, so we were destroyed. You two are leveling faster than anyone I’ve seen before—thanks to ideal conditions—and it makes me wonder about you. If you’ll fall into that cycle. Wouldn’t it be nice if that cycle was gone? Forever?”

Theo looked to the wooden rafters above. The world was ruled by the system, and those rules determined the cycles. It might have been unintentional, but that’s the way it went. The alchemist had covered level 1 to almost 20 in around 70 days. But that wasn’t exactly true. He thought back to when he started using the Dreamwalk and the sudden boost to experience it gave him. He doubled his daily experience gains, adding to the confusion of his progress. It was confoundingly quick.

“But how would you stop the cycles?” Theo asked.

Fenian shrugged the question away. “Excellent question.”

Theo filed those statements away in his mind. There was a special box labeled ‘weird stuff Fenian said’ somewhere in his consciousness. The Elf wasn’t prone to philosophical ramblings, but it got him thinking. If the cycle destroyed Qavell, they were better off for it. Assuming they could find a [Kingdom Core]. That made Broken Tusk guilty of enjoying the fruits of the cycle, whatever the cost. Once again, more questions than answers. He settled into the water and let out a contented sigh. What concerns he had he could share within the Dreamwalk.

It was just after dusk when the group departed the bath. Fenian stayed at the tavern, leaving the trio to wander under the moonless sky for a short time. But each member of the Tara’hek desired the same thing. That comforting sensation washed over them the moment they hopped in bed, vision swirling to deposit them in the harbor.

“Weird talk from Fenian,” Tresk grunted, scooping up Alex and depositing her into the safe harbor. “What was his story about? Something about the Southblades?”

“He meant we can’t avoid the cycles. Trying to prime us for when Qavell falls,” Theo said. “That’s my guess. He’s high enough in level so I can’t use my intuition to its fullest.”

Tresk grunted her response. Theo could feel her ambivalence to the topic, but that was typical. She had the right idea, though. Fenian handed out exactly as much information as he wanted, never giving more than he needed. That often left the alchemist grasping at unseen futures, twisting himself into knots when he didn’t need the added stress. With a thought he summoned his regular fare. Distillation stills and plant beds, ready to help him climb toward level 20.

“What’s that?” Theo asked, pointing to the short rapier in Tresk’s hand. It was only half the length longer than her normal daggers, but thin-bladed with a basket guard.

“Gotta make papa Parantheir happy. Right?” Tresk asked. “There’s a skill I’m interested in with the [Parantheir Duelist’s Core].”

“What is it?”

“Fenian explained it to me. Something about isolating a target. Synergizes with my other cores.”

Theo nodded, watching her scamper off into the distance. Alex let out an excited chirping noise, diving into the safe waters of the harbor. His concern was still on her common [Tracker’s Core], something she didn’t seem willing to part ways with. [Track Monster] worked with [Marked For Death] directly, allowing her to deal twice the normal damage on her first attack out of stealth on marked targets. Combined with her [Tracker’s Core’s] [Lingering Poison], it made for a brutal build focused on quick strikes and the attrition of potions.

“But that’s the flaw, Alex,” Theo sighed, tending to his stills. “Both of us are useless after the first bout.”

She chirped in response.

The night went by the way it normally did. Theo busied himself with sifting through Xol’sa’s research as he tended both the stills and his gardens. Tresk summoned various monsters to test her techniques and was oddly measured about it. Normally she’d summon a dragon first, then work her way down until she wasn’t dying immediately. She learned a lot on how to use the rapier, but didn’t seem convinced it was the best fit. But that was the weapon of Parantheir. Or so she claimed.

The next morning came, and it seemed more peaceful than most in recent memory. The group made their way to Xam’s tavern, finding their private booth and settling in for tea and leftovers. Excitement welled in all members of the Tara’hek. They’d purposefully kept away from the road, giving Ziz time to extend it over the river, then to the north. With the team working for days without harassment from either monsters or the bandits, it seemed safe enough. Regular patrols from the adventurer’s guild didn’t hurt matters.

Theo felt energized after his moss tea. He spotted Ziz and his workers heading out for the day, crossing down the north-south road by the tavern and heading east. The alchemist ran up beside them, nudging the stoneworker.

“We’ve come to inspect your work,” Theo said, grinning.

“Hah! Well, prepare to be impressed,” Ziz said, rubbing his calloused hands together. “We’ve got the technique down well enough. Thought we’d burn through what few [Tunneling Potions] we had, but the trenches we need are so shallow they last a while.”

“Good to hear,” Theo said, gesturing for the stoneworker to lead the way.

Miana waved as the group passed. She was tending to her animals, letting them out in the massive pasture to clean out the stables. Theo hoped her core building had something to help her with that. Although, now that he thought of it the droppings might have alchemical uses. He shook the thought from his mind, focusing on the literal road ahead. It stretched from the eastern gate, heading east towards the new stone bridge over the river. To the south was the harbor’s wall, and the portcullises situated over the rushing river.

“So, you might know, but we have a solid technique,” Ziz said, stomping his foot on the white stone road as he went. It seemed firm, and wide enough for two carts to travel side-by-side. “We dig a trench, put fat gravel at the bottom, thinner at the top, then leveling sand if we need it. The new guys mostly need the sand, those with a few levels in our cores can handle it fine.”

“It’s quite sturdy,” Theo said, stepping onto the bridge. “So is this.”

The bridge was an all-stone construction, arching to span the river without support on the bottom. Another quirk of the free-standing things made by the stoneworkers. The road turned after the crossed the river, heading north and tracking a path along the water. It was a healthy distance away, and Ziz went into detail about how important the gravel was for drainage. The leader of the stoneworkers was excited to talk about his work, but so were his companions. The group had grown, but only the original team was walking the road this morning.

Theo looked to either side of the road, spotting the mountains north of Broken Tusk to his left, and more mountains in the distance on his right. It seemed safe enough, but he drank a [Potion of Limited Foresight] anyway. It was habitual by this point.

“So, I’m guessing you have an inventory now,” Theo said, gesturing to the group.

Ziz laughed. “Yeah, we’re not interested in hauling stone this far out. One of the boys took a [Trader’s Core] just for the inventory.”

“Yeah, I can’t imagine living without it,” Theo said.

Tresk paused on the road, cradling Alex in her arms. She cocked her head to the side, knit her brow, then let out a breath. “Ah, shit.”

It happened faster than Theo could respond. With a river to their left, clear fields to the right, this seemed like a place immune to ambushes. When 5 red-skinned, horned figures emerged from nowhere ahead, his blood ran cold. One Zagmon Dronon in the rear raised a staff high, filling the air with a keening that blasted out like an explosion. Red, thorny vines burst from the ground and seized Tresk, binding her where she stood. Ziz and his men had their makeshift weapons out, but another Dronon had already sprinted toward the group. Toward his target.

Theo.

Deft strikes that depleted the potion. Faster than anyone he’d seen before. But Theo had already withdrawn his improvised explosive, although he was fearful of the results. Using it so close to his companions would cause one thing. But it didn’t matter. The leather-clad Dronon was quicker than him, crouching and pivoting to place the sole of his boot on the potion. He kicked it away with enough force to send it sailing far into the distance.

Tresk shouted. Ziz’s men did a hopeless battle with the other Zagmon Dronon. And Theo struggled for his life.

But the assassin was toying with him. Theo withdrew a [Freezebomb], only to have it slapped away. Then a [Retreat Potion], finding a similar effect. The alchemist’s face twisted into a grimace. There was only one thing he could think of to escape. Something to buy even a moment of time. He focused on his [Dreampassage] skill.

Even as a dagger sliced through the front of his silken robe. Ripped through his undershirt. Pierced his skin and parted bones searching for his heart. A shout of pain rippled across the scene. Theo shared a look with Tresk before…

Theo Spencer vanished from the mortal realm.