Summon the Great Spirits - Book 1 Chapters 22,23,24 (Patreon)

Chapter 22

High Expectations

Telbarantis’ massive form loomed over his temple. His head tilted, a single yellow eye beaming down, he observed his followers. The priesthood was gathered on the island, near the docks where the Great Spirit had first emerged. Void leaned on Twist for support, looking up with less fear on her face than earlier in the day. Dusk was settling in over Oudsted and the lake. A shadow cast by the spirit loomed over all.

“There are protocols,” Egbert said. Thick beads of sweat were streaming down his face. He hadn’t reacted well to their arrival, or Ethan’s demands. “She cannot join the priesthood without undergoing the trials.”

Ethan shifted his gaze from the priest to the Great Spirit. “He doesn’t want Void to stay, Tel.”

“Tell him this.”

The scales on the blue spirit shimmered. They shifted in place, creating a humming sound. Moments later, a wave of power ruptured from Telbarantis’ vast hide. Ethan grabbed onto Targe for support, but those priests not prone were thrown from their feet. The ornate windows of the temple shattered.

“My temple. My rules,” Telbarantis said.

Ethan turned to Egbert. “He said he’s gonna eat you.”

Egbert scrambled back to his feet. A track of blood now wormed its way down his face, stemming from the wound on his head. “Forgive us,” was all he said.

“Job done,” Ethan said, dusting off his white robe. “Thanks for showing up, Tel.”

“Anytime. Now that I’ve eaten the [Dungeon Core] I feel more alive than ever.”

Ethan nodded, watching as the spirit vanished from the spot. “That’s not ominous or anything. Right. Take care of Void. Got that, Egbert?”

“I understand, Caller Bells,” Egbert said, clutching his head.

The party left Void with the priests. After Telbarantis’ display, they treated her like an honored guest. Even if the priests had wounds to tend, they wouldn’t go against what the Great Spirit told them to do. A small rowboat cut a clean path across the lake, determined to beat the setting sun.

“You went far to help a stranger,” Targe said.

Ethan had already thought about that. Targe’s party might have been able to clear the dungeon alone, but Void had been instrumental during their first surprise attack. She had done so by putting herself at risk, taking on more [Void Madness] than she should have. Perhaps her actions were self-preservation, but that didn’t take away from the Caller’s thoughts on the matter.

“Don’t know if she would have done the same for any of us,” Ethan said. “But she did something good. Put herself in danger to save us. Like Twist did for me back near Luca’s temple.”

“Not the same parallel,” Twist said.

“Yeah. Twist was just being Twist. But Void really needed our help. Damn, she still does.” Targe pulled one last time on the oars, bringing the craft to the dock where they'd borrowed it. There were no attendants to tie the vessel off, so Twist took care of that. “What are we going to do first? Lucantele or that other spirit. Para… whatever.”

“Parabaxis,” Ethan said. “I’m not sure. Why are you taking up my crusade?”

“It’s been interesting,” Twist said.

“Not a good enough reason,” Ethan said. “How much money did we make on that run?”

“Assuming we can get a decent price for the [Healer’s Core]? More than we’ve made on any other dungeon run. Yeah, we lost most of the loot. But it was quick. And we helped the Great Spirit.” Targe tied off the last knot, coming over to clap a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “It’s easy to get tied up in adventuring duties. We’ve done good things. Sometimes that’s enough.”

Ethan forced himself to look at the adventure as anything but a failure. His image of adventurers was different now. He made the right decision by going with Twist and Targe. They had moral compasses that he could appreciate. A willingness to dive headlong into danger to help people was a sound quality for an adventurer to have.

But the failure of the adventure was clear. The group could no longer afford a stay at the Golden Ox Inn and were forced to share a single room at the Marsh Wolf Tavern. Ethan didn’t mind, and the other two adventurers were used to sleeping under the open sky. At least the food was decent enough. Not as luxurious as the other places they’d eaten, but watered wine was all the same. And that made most food better.

Waking the next morning, Ethan found a man standing outside their door. He was exiting, attempting to get downstairs to find food for everyone, when the frilled man stood at attention.

“Message from Duke Leonard,” the man said, puffing up at the sight of the Caller.

“Have you been waiting there long?” Ethan asked, looking in either direction. The musty hallway was empty.

“I’m duty-bound to deliver the message, sir.”

“Proceed.”

“Duke Leonard requests your presence in his citadel immediately. Your adventuring party is welcome to join you,” the messenger said. He performed an ornate salute, which included no less than three bows and a tip of his feathered hat. “Is the food here any good?”

“It’s rancid,” Ethan said. “Stick to the places near the citadel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The messenger departed before Twist and Targe could stir. Through bleary eyes and froggy voices they asked what the man wanted.

“We’re going to see the duke. I guess,” Ethan said.

“Ugh,” Targe said, looking down at his wine-stained clothes. “In this state?”

Ethan inspected his own clothes. Whatever magic cleaned them wasn’t powerful enough to remove wine stains on such short notice. And there was a lot of wine. “Yeah. We should wash up, first.”

“Agreed,” Twist said.

The options of laundering clothes were slim in Oudsted. Most expensive inns had baths, and there were laundering services meant for rich people. No one in the party would part ways with their hard-earned coin just for clean clothes. Instead, they bought soap and took advantage of the sacred lake. They stripped down, and scrubbed their gear clean near where the lake became a river. No one bothered them, although some citizens cast concerned looks their way.

A damp party of adventurers approached the duke’s spire. Ethan always thought of it as a short, fat spire rather than a citadel. It wasn’t imposing enough to be a citadel. A spire, sure. Maybe a tower, but that was stretching the definition of the word. A portcullis was raised near the entrance, revealing two large wooden doors. When the Caller approached, the guards there opened the doors without command.

The foyer of the duke’s spire was massive. An open area where functionaries skittered about. There was something like a throne on the far side of the room, but it was empty. Instead, Duke Leonard was among his administrators. Discussing the problems of the day to resolve conflicts.

“That’s actually impressive,” Ethan said, gesturing to the duke.

“Caller Bells!” the duke shouted, stomping over the polished marble floor. He reached a hand out for Ethan to shake, which he did. “What a pleasure to see you. After solving my problem, no less. Come, let’s talk somewhere more private.”

Ethan followed the duke, feeling awkward about the whole thing. Targe and Twist followed behind like lost puppies, their eyes lingering on the items of opulence that dotted the spire. The group ascended several floors, and navigated through a maze of tunnels before finding their way to a meeting room. A long wooden table dominated the center of the room, twenty high-backed chairs arranged around it. Out through the clear glass window was Oudsted, sprawled out in a way Ethan had never seen before.

“Tea?” Duke Leonard asked, producing a fancy flame-thing and a teapot.

“Yes, please.”

Targe’s adventuring party watched as the Duke of Oudsted made tea. Before long, the scent of brewing black tea filled the room. It was a more refined scent than the tea Twist had made. A hint of citrus lingered in the air, even after the duke poured four cups. He gestured for the group to sit and they obeyed.

“Now, let’s talk about the dungeon,” Leonard said. “My soldiers said you cleared it. They emphasized how rude you were. But the common soldier often misunderstands the actions of adventurers.”

“Yeah, uh,” Ethan said, fumbling before he’d even started. “Telbarantis took care of the core, and the dungeon was going to explode. So, yeah. I was really rude.”

“Don’t worry about that part,” Leonard said, sipping his tea. “What was the nature of the corruption?”

“I’m sure you know, sire,” Targe said, bowing his head. “Black ooze. Tentacles. The infection of both the dungeon core and the monsters within.”

“Right. I do know. You’re correct. Reports of the corruption came in from Brasbek to the north. The king himself has a bounty on the corrupted cores,” Leonard said. “Only a few have collected so far.”

“A bounty?” Twist asked.

Leonard turned his gaze to Twist. Ethan spotted something on the leader’s face. He was pushing something down. Revulsion, maybe.

“I’ll remind you of our agreement,” Leonard said. “Slates wiped clean and all that.”

“I wouldn’t be on the surface if my heart wasn’t with Wexenhal,” Twist said.

Leonard let out a heavy sigh, sipping his tea. “No, that’s fine. I understand. Just don’t remove the mask, alright?”

“I never intended to.”

“The value of the bounty is… how to put this? Higher than the value of ducal pardons,” Leonard said. “And I’m a fair man. You cleared my corrupted dungeon, right before it released the horrors within. For that, Sven and Deraeda get what they want. Ethan gets his place in the Guild. And you’re left with a few pieces of gold.”

“That’s a hell of an intro contract, huh?” Ethan asked. He chuckled wryly.

“That’s putting it lightly. But I know you want something. Something that doesn’t come cheap,” Leonard said.

“The temple?” Ethan asked.

“Exactly. You want to rebuild Lucantele’s temple. Fine, that’s easy enough. The Guild issues contracts to scout the area often enough, and it's within Oudsted’s borders. I don’t need to ask the archduke for permission.”

“A road would be nice,” Targe said. “That’s the biggest problem in getting there.”

“Workers. And stone,” Twist said.

“A garrison would be lovely, too,” Ethan said.

“All worth far more than a few gold coins,” Leonard said, holding his hands out palm up.

Ethan sipped his tea, trying to distract himself from that fact. The tea was lovely, though. Slightly sweet with an undercurrent of hearty black tea. That note of citrus danced on his tongue, even after swallowing his sip. He assumed this was some kind of expensive tea. That gave way to a long pause. Then the duke smiled.

“But I am a generous man,” Leonard said. “No, the word is ‘selfish’, I think. The roads that run from Oudsted are few. We have a road heading to the south, and one heading east. Our connection to Daub to the south is important, while the road heading east is vital for trade. But there’s nothing to the west, is there?”

“Sounds like a good time to build roads,” Targe said with a nod.

Leonard waved the sentiment away. He sipped his tea, then hummed a tune. “We’ve forgotten the importance of Lucantele. I received reports that he appeared in a ritual shop in town, sending waves of hope throughout the town. Do you know the result of that encounter?”

“Everyone was happy for a few days?” Ethan asked.

“More than happy. Their worries washed away, replaced by steely conviction. It was lovely,” Leonard said. “Oudsted wants more of that, and so…”

Duke Leonard removed a single gold coin from one of his many ruffles. He placed it on the table and rolled it toward Ethan. Twist intercepted it, snatching the coin up and offering a confused look to the duke.

“Oudsted will help rebuild the temple and a new road for free,” Leonard said. “I see this as a chance to destroy the encamped orcs, and establish a new bastion of hope.”

“I appreciate that, Duke Leonard,” Ethan said.

“Well, I have high expectations for you. For now, enjoy your victory,” Leonard said. His face took on a more grim countenance. “And remember who helped you get your start.”

“I don’t forget favors, Duke Leonard,” Ethan said, bowing his head. “Neither does Lucantele.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The thing Ethan enjoyed the most about Duke Leonard was his lack of formalities. As a former adventurer, he understood the importance of brevity. Without another word, the man stood and beckoned for the group to follow. He led them back to the atrium and kicked them out of the spire without hesitation.

“Bye-bye!” Duke Leonard shouted as the group stumbled out of the building.

Twist held the single gold coin in his hand, staring at it as though it were a fortune. Compared to their combined coin purses, it was a fortune. But the only point in having money in this world was to put it to work. The dark elf knew that, leading the way down the streets toward the high-end shops near the spire.

“Subcores,” Twist said. “[Blood Mage].”

“Good idea. We won’t find crap for gear in Oudsted, but they have a decent core selection. Right. You guys go shop, and I’ll hit the library… or I’ll go to the island and talk with Void,” Targe said, scratching his head. “Don’t forget to buy a spell, Twist.”

“I won’t,” Twist said.

Ethan joined with the Rogue, working their way to the shop that sold cores. They knew what they were looking for, making the process easier. The negotiations only lasted a few moments, and they bought a [Blood Mage’s Subcore] for 25 silver coins. The man at the shop was happy to make change for the gold coin, allowing them to head off to the spell shop.

“Let me see it!” Ethan asked, pawing at the subcore.

“Insert this into your chest, and I’ll anger every Great Spirit in the realm.”

Ethan snatched the core and inspected it.

[Blood Mage’s Core]

Epic

Mage-Style Core

Rank

0

Level

1

Description:

[Blood Mages] perform magic using blood. Either theirs, or that of their enemies.

Latent Effects:

Spellbook

A plain enough thing. If Ethan didn’t know it was the key to evolving [Rogue] into [Blood Rogue]. He handed the item back to Twist as they entered the spell shop. The dwarf manning the place was happy to show them her wares, eager to make a sale for the day. She only had a few books for [Blood Mage], but they fit with Twist’s combat style well. With a single spell slot, he picked a simple spell called [Bleed].

Ethan investigated other books for his [Healer’s Subcore]. There were spells like [Cure Poison], [Cure Disease], and other things but he wasn’t very interested in those at first. The tome for [Cure Wounds], an upgraded version of [Cure Minor Wounds] was restricted to Rank 1 cores. While his [Healer’s Subcore] was climbing in levels, it wasn’t yet eligible for an upgrade. Since the book for [Cure Disease] was only a silver, he bought that one with their shared money.

Twist removed his current subcore and inserted his [Blood Mage’s Subcore]. Ethan could tell the dark elf had a smile on his face, even under the stone mask. The pair walked the streets of Oudsted, wandering instead of returning to the tavern. It was a nice day with a pleasant temperature. They sniped some free food from excited vendors. Vendors who were eager to gain the favor of Lucantele once again.

“Does that mask do anything else?” Ethan asked, ripping a chunk of meat off a smoked bird’s leg.

“Protection from the sun,” Twist said, gesturing vaguely to the sky. He ripped a small piece of the meat off, feeding it under his mask.

“So, what’s the threat from the dark elves? If they can’t come to the surface?”

“They have masks.”

“Fair enough. How did you and Targe meet?”

“I fled from my people. Not through noble defiance. I failed my coming-of-age trial and was sentenced to death,” Twist said. He paused in the street, his mind drifting off to a time long gone. “Found Targe on the surface. Fleeing the army. We only just found our feet when we met you.”

“Well, I’m happy to help. You’re good people, Twist,” Ethan said.

“You too, Caller Bells, are good people,” Twist said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Happy to have met you. Glad to fight alongside you. To die with you.”

“Don’t get all dramatic on me.”

Twist nodded.

Ethan wanted to shop around. He wanted to see how bad the gear offered within Oudsted was. Not that he didn’t trust Targe, but what was useful for someone was garbage for another. But he saw the problem with the gear they sold in town. Some of it was magical, but it was extremely generic. The equipment the Caller found in dungeons often had a class-specific ability tied to it. That might have been a passive or an active ability, but they always enhanced the user’s class.

Oudsted’s gear market was as generic as they came. And the prices were absurd. When Ethan found a pair of mittens that offered a single point in [Mind], he scoffed at the one gold coin price tag. That might have worked for someone with more money than sense, but it wouldn’t do for the Caller.

Instead, the pair just enjoyed the day. They ate free food and drank free watered wine until moving was uncomfortable. Ethan enjoyed that moment, looking forward to the long road ahead. Those conflicted feelings wouldn’t come back today. Not while he had a full belly and a coin pouch filled with silver. He shared that silver with his companions. Which made it even better.

Chapter 23

Low Results

Ethan lounged on his luxurious bed in the Golden Ox Inn. They’d changed accommodations for the day, foregoing the damp conditions of the Marsh Wolf Tavern in favor of luxury. It was a bad way to spend a few silver, the Caller realized, but the results were clear. No knots formed in his back as he rested on the bed. Not even after he stayed there for hours, floored by the effects of reading the [Cure Disease] tome.

Twist had suffered the same fate, although it was lessened. Perhaps that was stubbornness from the dark elf. The group enjoyed their new room all the same. When Ethan was feeling well enough to stand, he left the room and headed for the door. The Rogue might not have minded if he wandered off to get himself killed, but Targe felt protective.

“Let me come,” he said. “At least that gives me a chance to tell you about a potential evolution.”

“Sounds good,” Ethan said.

The pair left their room, lingering in the inn's lobby for a few minutes. Folks dressed in finery passed by, renting rooms or doing business right in the open space. Targe hadn’t found a buyer for the [Healer’s Core] yet, but he had a good feeling about a contact. Ethan left that affair to him, not wanting to get involved in some high-stakes auction. They exited the building, into the midday sun before heading south.

“The class doubles down on being a tank,” Targe said. “Provides more utility than offensive power.”

“That’s exactly what you need,” Ethan said.

“Yeah. It has a few steps, too. First thing is to get a [Fighter’s Core] and a [Fighter’s Subcore] to Rank 1. Yeah, that’s the weird part. Defeat 100 monsters, then it evolves into a [Soldier’s Core]. Then, combine that with a specific subcore of a god. A [Priest’s Core]. Turns into a [Knight’s Core] once I perform a deed of valor. Whatever that means.”

“That doesn’t sound too hard,” Ethan said.

“No, I already have the [Fighter’s Subcore]. Just need to find a god worthy of following,” Targe said. “That is the hard part.”

“I have seen no temples to the gods here,” Ethan said. “What gives?”

“Ah, there’s a few in the duchy. Just not in Oudsted,” Targe said. “What gives with your plan, anyway? Running off to heal the sick?”

That was a loaded question. He knew why Ethan wanted to heal the sick people in Oudsted. It was a two-prong response to the situation he found himself in. First, he needed experience for his [Healer’s Subcore]. If he healed people with the intent to help them, he should get experience. Second, if anyone had the power to cure a disease they should use it. Full stop on that one, the Caller saw no middle ground with miraculous powers. Before responding, he examined his new spell which he’d already slotted.

[Cure Disease]

Healer Spell

Mana Cost

Low

Cooldown

10 seconds

Description:

Select a target within range. The target is cured of one [Disease] effect.

With only one spell slot available, this wouldn’t be a useful ability to have while adventuring. His [Cure Minor Wounds] was the best spell for that, no matter the circumstance. But for roaming the slums, curing the sick? This was the best spell.

“Pretty simple, isn’t it?” Ethan asked. “If there are sick people, they should be cured. Also… experience. You know.”

“Some adventurers forget how fantastical it is to have these abilities,” Targe conceded. “But most don’t. You’ll see folks with a [Healer’s Core] or a subcore roaming the slums like you plan to do. I was just giving you a hard time.”

“I get it, though,” Ethan said, waving at people as they passed. His staff gave him away as a caller. If not the bells on his shoes. “Guy comes to a new world. Wants to heal the sick. Seems like he has a messiah complex.”

“Well, now. I didn’t say that,” Targe said.

“But you were thinking about it. And that’s fine by me.”

“I was thinking that you had a bit of a complex.” Targe waved as they passed the guards at the southern gate. He stopped Ethan and flicked the medallion dangling from his neck. “But maybe we should go to the Guild first. Get you the big boy version of this.”

“Bah. Who needs it?” Ethan asked. “Look, those people look sick.”

The people in the slums looked more than just sick. Some were destitute, and others looked as though they were on death’s door. It was hard to care for them all, as grim as Ethan realized that was. Had he given downtrodden people back on Earth the same attention? No, he turned a blind eye. Passing by warming centers in winter without a second thought. Ignoring folks that asked for loose change at stoplights.

This wasn’t a sin he had to carry for the new world. Ethan owed nothing to Avansea. And it owed nothing back. It was just an excursion to heal sick people. That was all.

“Would you like some healing?” Ethan asked, approaching a rail-thin man sitting on the ground. The man held out an empty bowl.

“Alms?”

Ethan ignored the request for money, channeling [Cure Disease]. The spell cost 10 mana, and the 10 second cooldown meant he could practically spam it. Motes of golden light flowed from the Caller, then the destitute man flashed with the same light. A system message popped up.

[Lowland Wasting Disease] removed from [Arnold Traxian].

[Ethan Stout’s] [Healer’s Subcore] gained 0.1% experience.

“[Lowland Wasting Disease],” Ethan said with a grimace. “Sounds horrible.”

“Alms?” the man asked again.

Ethan ignored the man, waiting for the cooldown on his ability. With his [Mana Regen] and the spell’s cooldown, he could cast it forever. He waited and then cast it again. Then again. Another time. Then the last one.

[Hogpox] removed from [Arnold Traxian].

[Ethan Stout’s] [Healer’s Subcore] gained 0.1% experience.

…

[Liver Blight] removed from [Arnold Traxian].

[Ethan Stout’s] [Healer’s Subcore] gained 0.1% experience.

…

[Bone Rot] removed from [Arnold Traxian].

[Ethan Stout’s] [Healer’s Subcore] gained 0.1% experience.

…

[Rot (general, skin)] removed from [Arnold Traxian].

[Ethan Stout’s] [Healer’s Subcore] gained 0.1% experience.

“Damn how are you even alive?” Ethan asked, swapping to his [Cure Minor Wounds] spell before casting it. It was annoying, but he slotted [Cure Disease] back into his subcore.

The man looked hale compared to when they started. [Bone Rot] certainly sounded like the worst one, but Ethan wouldn’t want any of those diseases. But Arnold Traxian just looked up at them. The same hollow expression in his eyes.

“Alms?”

“Moving on,” Ethan said.

“You seem rather happy after witnessing that.” Targe kept close to his friend. Perhaps he sensed some trepidation in the Caller. But he’d find none there. This was a good thing.

“They don’t have to like it. They just have to get cured,” Ethan said.

The group made a circuit through the slums. None of the brigands, clearly marked by the long knives strapped to their hips, bothered attacking the pair. It was a good thing that most of the citizens of the slums had at least 4 diseases. Ethan discovered that people often had more. Sometimes up to 10 afflictions per person. While it was a grim situation, the good they were doing was clear.

Turning a corner, they spotted an odd sight. It wasn’t odd because of what the pair of men were doing. It was odd because they were doing the exact thing Ethan and Targe were. A man robed in white was going from person-to-person, applying the [Cure Disease] spell. When the two groups spotted each other, they stood there for a moment before bursting out in laughter.

Ethan approached the pair, shaking his head. “Gonna have to drive you out of my territory, healer.”

“This slum doesn’t seem large enough for our two parties,” the healer responded, unable to contain his laughter. Then he reached out a hand for Ethan to shake. “Maxwell… ah, sorry. Radiant.”

“Bells.” Ethan clasped the Radiant’s hand in his. That was a good name to have taken. The healers must have fallen over themselves to fight for it. “Guessing you’ve got a [Healer’s Core].”

“I’m guessing you’re leveling a subcore, Caller Bells.”

Radiant was a lean man with blonde hair, brown eyes, and a slight build. He exuded a calming presence, even as the large man behind him radiated a sense of battle. Even as everything stood still. The larger man was all muscles and stern expressions. Wearing only padded armor with a massive sword strapped to his back, he seemed more like an offensive Fighter.

“Pit,” the big man said.

“Targe.”

“I was afraid I would run into someone else.” Radiant let out a heavy sigh, then cast another [Cure Disease] on the woman he stood over. “Sometimes it's hard to explain why we do these things.”

Ethan nudged Targe in the ribs. “Yeah. Leave it to these meatheads to misunderstand our intentions.”

“Come now, Bells. Said I understood the whole thing.”

“Just messing with you. Well, it was a pleasure running into you, Radiant. Are you guys taking any contracts from the Guild?”

Radiant shook his head. “Not yet. We’re waiting for a scouting contract. Get some extra coin before we head to some dungeons.”

“Well, best of luck to you. I think we’re done healing the sick for the day,” Ethan said.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Radiant said, bowing his head. “Stay safe.”

Targe and Ethan left the scene, heading into town to visit the Guild. The Caller felt better about his decision to heal the sick after seeing someone else do it. But his companion never made him feel bad about it, and he gained a fair amount of experience. His [Healer’s Subcore] was now level 9. One level away from the coveted upgrade. They could afford to upgrade his subcore, since the requirements were so few.

Ethan cast [Summon Telbarantis] before heading back into town. He could keep the summon out for a long time, and the Symbols seemed to gain experience if they were simply out. It wasn't’ as much as combat experience, but it was more than nothing. The lizardgator ran around their feet as they walked, darting off to vendor’s stalls to mess with the locals. Everywhere the Symbol of Telbarantis went, the people bowed with respect.

“That’s cruel,” Targe said, watching as a gaggle of people fell to their knees. Tel did a little gator-dance in front of them. On Ethan’s orders.

“Yeah, but it's fun,” Ethan said. “I understand why people are serious about the spirits, but they’re down-to-earth creatures.”

“Down to what?”

“An expression. They’re humble beings.”

“Whatever you say.”

Ethan and Targe entered the Adventurer’s Guild. The person at reception had been expecting them. All day, in fact. When they arrived he blustered, but eventually led them down a series of hallways. The office they found themselves in was more ornately decorated than the other sections of the guildhall. They passed through a carved door, held open by the attendant. Behind a desk, far too large for the man, sat a man. He looked to be whatever race Void was, complete with the floppy pointed ears. Scars marked his face, tracing deep tracks.

When he raised his head, his auburn hair caught the light from the window. He scowled.

“Took you long enough. Sit.”

Ethan obeyed, sitting in one of the four chairs before the desk. Targe joined him.

“Oscar. Leader of the Oudsted Adventurer’s Guild. Whipping boy of Duke Leonard, apparently,” the man said. “Close the door, you idiot.”

The door closed with a snap behind them. Ethan tried not to laugh. He failed.

“Yeah, real funny, Bells.” Oscar rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Let me set it out straight for you. I don’t like when the duke comes in here and tells me what to do. You know what I like even less? When he doesn’t tell me there’s a corrupted dungeon in the area.”

“You understand what it’s like, Fracture,” Targe said, shrugging.

“Yeah? Do I? Been years since I was running contracts.”

Targe offered him a placating gesture, holding both his palms up. “Bells saw a chance and he took it. A way to do good for the Guild and get in the duke’s good graces.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard it all before.” Oscar held his hand out. “Gimme your old identification medallion.”

Ethan removed the necklace and placed it in the guildmaster’s hands. Oscar tossed a new one back. This one was larger and bore Ethan’s information. It was made of copper. Magic copper, obviously. The touch that he loved was the image of Lucantele pressed into it. He slipped it over his head and smiled at the guildmaster.

“Thank you. Uh… sir.”

“Whatever happened doesn’t take away from the facts. That was damn fine work. I got word you even made the duke’s men piss themselves!” Oscar threw his head back and cackled. “Brought that damn big spirit over to glare at them, huh? Yeah, maybe we’re suddenly best friends. Maybe I hate you. You’ll never know.”

“So, we’re cleared to take more contracts?” Targe asked.

“Of course. I know good work when I see it. And that? It was good work.” Oscar fiddled with some papers on his desk. He found the thing he was looking for shortly after. “Right. So, Targe. You wanted us to post contracts about the orcs near the ruined temple. Oh hey! What’s this? A bounty from the duke. Who could have guessed? Me, that’s who.”

“The Temple of Lucantele is going to be an important place for the people of Oudsted,” Ethan said. “Even you can’t deny it.”

“Even me? What’s that mean? No, you’re right.” Oscar shuffled through his papers. “More contracts to clear the way… dig trenches… build a road. Yeah, we’re flush with cash because of that. I won’t complain. You know what I will complain about?”

“What?” Ethan asked. Oscar looked at him as though the Caller had just slapped his mother.

“There was a corrupted dungeon!”

“Oh, that.”

Oscar took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When they snapped open, he fished something out of his desk that looked suspiciously like antacids. He popped one in his mouth and chewed.

“Here’s the question,” Oscar said, chewing before continuing. “Telbarantis took out the corruption, right? What happens if a corrupted dungeon shows up outside of a spirit’s range?”

“I’d rather not think about it,” Ethan said. “All the more reason to restore Lucantele’s shrine. Are there dungeons near the orcs?”

“That’s where the orcs came from.” Targe didn’t look intimidated by the guildmaster. So Ethan wouldn’t be either.

“So what if they become corrupted? We need Lucantele to take care of it,” Ethan said.

“You’re placing too much stock in yourself,” Oscar said.

Ethan wanted to scoff, but he held it back. “I’m not arrogant. The spirits do all the work.”

“What happens if you die?” Oscar asked. There was no hint of malice in his voice. Just a fact.

“I hadn’t considered it.”

“Yet adventurers die. You see why I’m stressed?” Oscar asked. “Think my hair is just magically falling out? Don’t answer that. I need you to tell me if you find more corrupted dungeons. Do you understand?”

Targe shared a look with Ethan. The Caller had no problem with that. This was an issue because the duke chose not to disclose the information to the Guild. If this happened again, it was impossible to predict the damage. Thinking back on it, Ethan realized how dangerous that single corrupted bear was. If the worm-things could infect any monster, the damage would be immeasurable.

“We understand,” Ethan said. “We’re on your side. The side of the Guild.”

“That’s good to hear. I can feel a few hairs growing back. Look at how relaxed I am. Anyway, there’s nothing fancy about contracts here. Targe will tell you about them. Don’t have to worry about Guild ranks in Oudsted. We’re too small to care.”

Without another word, the pair were kicked out of the guildmaster’s office. They got what they came for, but the idea of corruption left a foul taste in Ethan’s mouth. The duke should have done more to share his information. But the Caller wasn’t a child. The whims of a leader didn’t stem from selfish things. There might have been a reason to keep the information from the guildmaster. Some motive he simply couldn’t see from his vantage point.

“Some guilds do ranks,” Targe said, interrupting Ethan’s thoughts. “Small towns like Oudsted don’t normally bother. We have nothing above Rank 2 dungeons around here. And those are rare.”

“How does that work?” Ethan asked. “Different areas having different ranks?”

“Magical density? The amount of spirits in an area? How often the dungeons are cleared?” Targe listed things off, never intended to get an answer. “I don’t know. That’s for the scholars to decide.”

“Do the guilds in other towns recognize our station?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, they’ll honor any guild in the network. If we were to visit a bigger city, they’d generate a rank for us.”

“Well, I’m just glad we’re done with that. I don’t like Oscar very much.”

“He retired a few weeks ago. Was a big-time adventurer before he settled down here. We witnessed it. Twist and I. His adventuring name was Fracture,” Targe said. “Bone-breaking Rogue specialist. Nasty stuff.”

Ethan nodded. His mind drifted away from the problem Oudsted. To the politics between the Guild and the duke. It flew far away from this place, focusing on the literal road that would form between the town and Lucantele’s temple. The potential corruption of the orc dungeons rubbed against his mind. There was no point in resting. Sleeping under the stars was nice, after all.

Chapter 24

High Adventure

A flash of golden light shimmered around another sick human in Oudsted. Ethan had spent another full day healing the sick, gaining only experience for his efforts. He’d finally cast the damned [Cure Disease] spell enough to both hit level 10, and learn a near-endless list of things he never wanted to catch. Targe was bored out of his mind following the Caller around and celebrated with a shout when they’d finished.

The poor folks in the slums scattered at the sound.

Targe snatched Ethan by the arm and dragged him away. “Finally. I’m done with the slums. I’ve smelled enough rot for one lifetime, thank you.”

“But, my skill pick!”

“Pick while I drag you. We’re upgrading your subcore then heading out.”

Ethan grumbled, shrugging off the indignity of being dragged through the town’s streets. New skills were unlocked now that he was level 10. [Healer’s Subversion], which halved both mana and cast time, was still a tempting option. But there was one option that caught his eye. Something his mind twisted around, trying to fit it into his current kit.

“What do you think about this?” Ethan asked, reading the text of the potential pick.

[Hardening Heals]

Healer Passive Ability

Description:

Your healing spells leave behind a [Stoneskin] effect, absorbing 10% of the damage healed. This effect applies even if the healing effect is an overheal.

Effect:

10% [Stoneskin] left behind on target after using a healing ability.

“So, it’s free. Right?” Targe asked. “How much can your current heal do? 50 health? So I’d get a 5 health [Stoneskin] effect.”

“When you put it like that,” Ethan said, suddenly downtrodden. Then he spotted someone. “Look. It’s that Radiant guy. The Healer.”

“Hey! Radiant!” Targe shouted.

The man in the white head swiveled his head, spotting the Fighter dragging the Caller. He waved, then trotted over. Targe released Ethan to stand on his own.

“Quick question,” Ethan said. “Doing a pretty sweet [Mana Regen] build and I need a pick for my Rank 0 level 10 skill.”

“Oh! I can answer that,” Radiant said. “Well… not the [Mana Regen] part. But, if you perform your Rank 1 upgrade ritual, you have access to the base-level Rank 1 skills. So, save your skill pick and get [Deep Healing]. It’ll save you a spell slot, since you only have a subcore.”

“What’s that one do?”

Radiant explained the [Deep Healing] skill.

[Deep Healing]

Healer Ability

Cooldown:

5 Minutes

Description:

Your next healing spell will remove 1 status effect.

Effect:

Casting any healing spell will remove a single status effect. Removal of the effect depends on your level versus the caster. Does not apply to all effect, such as paralysis, petrify, etc.

“When you’re broke like me, you look for every chance to save money,” Radiant said. “You won’t need to buy five different removal spells. Then you can just buy [Cure Wounds].”

“Alright. I really appreciate the advice,” Ethan said. “I’ll get another spell slot at Rank 1, right? What spell would you recommend?”

“Slot [Cure Minor Wounds], and [Cure Wounds]. Cast them based on how low your target’s health is.” Radiant bowed his head. “The advice is no problem. Anyway, we’re heading out. See ya.”

Radiant departed without saying another word, joining with Pit. Ethan hoped they found the scouting mission they wanted. But they could always take the orc-slaying contract the duke had posted. That had been the talk of the adventuring community.

“Can you walk on your own? Or should I drag you?”

“I’m good.” Ethan walked quickly, outpacing Targe toward the inner section of the city. “But I don’t intend to keep a [Healer’s Subcore] forever. I’m praying for a healing ability for Luca next level.”

Luca had been slowly leveling. The more Ethan kept him out, doing whatever, the stronger their bond grew. He’d been doing the same thing with Tel, but that progress was slow. Both summons were at level 4, although Lucantele was Rank 1 while Telbarantis was 0. Progress was good, though.

The pair arrived at the ritual shop, depositing their [Monster Cores] and cash to get the subcore upgraded. It was very cheap to upgrade a subcore compared to a main core, leaving them with plenty of cash to buy [Cure Wounds]. The spellbook shop had several of the tomes in stock, each selling for 10 silver. Targe was hesitant to buy it, since Ethan said he wanted to ditch the core completely.

“Can’t worry about what subcore I find in a month. We need the heals now,” Ethan said.

“True,” Targe said, handing over the silver.

Ethan tucked the book under his arm and marched back to the Golden Ox Inn. While Twist roamed the streets, doing whatever it was a Rogue with a [Blood Mage’s Subcore] did, the Caller intended to learn a new spell. He let the knowledge wash over him before passing out, intended to sleep completely through the night.

Waking the next morning, Ethan found both Targe and Twist discussing something. When they saw him stirring, they stopped.

“Breakfast,” Ethan croaked.

Twist sat down with Ethan for breakfast while Targe procured their supplies. There was something hanging in the air when they dug into piles of eggs and bacon. A miasma that the Caller hated more than anything.

“Alright. Spill the beans,” Ethan said. “What’s the problem?”

“No problem.”

“Your scowl says otherwise.”

“You cannot see my face.”

“I can feel the scowling from here, dude.”

“Are we abandoning Void?”

Ethan stopped shoving eggs into his mouth. He paused for a long moment. They’d already discussed this. The Caller had no way to find Parabaxis. Telbarantis didn’t know where the Lesser Spirit was, and none of the scholars in town knew either. The only other person he could think of to ask was Lucantele.

“This is our best bet to finding Parabaxis. And if we do some scouting? What’s the issue?”

“True.”

“Another spirit’s favor wouldn’t be bad. Would it?”

Twist seemed uninterested in his eggs. At least he nibbled on a length of bacon, pushing it under his mask. “Perhaps.”

The journey back from Lucantele’s temple had taken two days. Ethan wondered if they could make the trip quicker this time, now that he wasn’t a liability. There was also the problem of getting both Twist and Targe up to Rank 2, once they hit level 10 in their main cores. The recipe for that was like the Rank 1 ritual, which required a [Rank Seal], a [Boss Core], and 5 [Monster Cores]. And the fee of the ritualist.

“What are the other ways you can get a [Rank Seal]?” Ethan asked.

“We could combine a rank-appropriate [Boss Core] with any rank-appropriate prime essence.”

“So, clear a dungeon and… where do we get essences?”

“Some boss monsters roam the wilds. They’ll drop one.”

That was good to know. Ethan wasn’t sure about doing a Rank 1 dungeon solo. Although, the more he thought about it the more his heart rose to the challenge. If he got his hands on a decent subcore, leveled it to Rank 1, he was confident he could solo another dungeon. That might save him the effort of finding three boss monsters in the wild. His mind swirled with the possibilities, but an anchoring thought brought him back.

These were all long-term goals. They would not accomplish these things in the next few weeks. Right now, Void was the only thing he could worry about. Finding Parabaxis and restoring Lucantele’s temple. Ranking up would come after that. Or during. But not right now.

“So, what was your home like?” Ethan asked.

Twist leveled a single eye on the Caller. “Dark. Brutal. Merciless.”

“Sounds crappy,” Ethan said, finishing off his eggs.

“It is.”

When the pair were done eating, Twist leaving most of his food behind, they picked up a few supplies before they left. The dark elf relied on the people of Oudsted’s goodwill toward the Caller to get a few more provisions. But their hospitality toward them was wearing thin. With the festival over, citizens were more reluctant to hand out free food. Ethan had expected them to stop doing so long enough, but he intended to milk it for as long as possible. He cast [Summon Telbarantis] to get a few more packages of tea than normal.

So long as they were willing to give things up, he’d take them.

Twist and Ethan proceeded to the Guild to check for related contracts. As expected, the orc-slaying contracts were up. Several copper per head, but it claimed there were tens of thousands of the creatures in the mountains. There was a special contract for dungeon cores from the [Orc Dungeons].

“There’s a detail there,” Twist said, pressing his finger into the hanging poster. “They haven’t scouted the mountains yet. A provision for scouting information. Dangerous.”

Ethan read through the contract again, nodding. He proceeded to the front desk, offering his new medallion up when requested. “Targe’s Party would like to take the orc contract.”

“You and everyone else in town,” the attendant said, stamping Ethan’s medallion with a flat-bottomed stamp.

A notification popped into Ethan’s vision.

[Slay the Orcs]

Guild Contract

Description:

An orcish threat festers in the Fangstone mountains. Exterminate the orcs, scout their camps, and annihilate their dungeons. Any dungeons delved within the Fangstone Mountains should have their cores destroyed.

Objectives:

Slay Fangstone Orcs.

Destroy dungeon cores within the Fangstone Mountains.

Provide Oudsted’s Adventurer’s Guild with information about the Fangstone mountains.

Reward:

2 copper per orc killed.

1 gold per Dungeon Core destroyed.

Price varies for provided intelligence.

“Sweet,” Ethan said. “Thanks.”

Twist and Ethan left the guild. The quest-like guild contract had popped up for the dark elf, too. Which meant that Targe had gotten it. Wherever the man was. The pair departed, heading directly for the stables. That’s where he was, according to the Rogue. Preparing their rented donkey for the journey ahead.

When Ethan spotted Targe at the stables, he stopped in his tracks. The Fighter wasn’t working on saddling up a donkey. He was strapping their things to the top of a massive beetle. Twice the height of a horse and twice as long, the creature was enormous. It had a mottled pattern of black and brown with a horn protruding from the front of its face.

“We rented a beetle?” Ethan asked.

“We bought a beetle,” Twist corrected.

A war broke out in Ethan’s mind. He really didn’t like the look of the creature. There was no quality of a giant beetle that stood out as cute. Donkeys were, in their own way, adorable. But the beetle was all spiky parts and chittering mandible. What did it even eat? Would it eat them? It didn’t matter, though. They approached Targe, who had a constant smile on his face.

“Well?” Targe asked.

“That’s a big bug,” Ethan said.

“You’re going to hurt her feelings.”

“Her?”

“Yeah, Tulip.”

Ethan took a deep breath. He stared at the giant beetle for some time. He couldn’t even locate her eyes, let alone figure out why she’d been named Tulip. Of all things she could have been named. The Caller would have named her “Mud Bug”, or “Giant Horrible Beetle Girl”. But Tulip?

“She can carry a lot of things, right?” Ethan asked after his long pause.

“Five times as much as the best horse they sell here.”

“Fine. Then I love her,” Ethan said, patting the creature on the side. Tulip chittered with excitement. The Caller shivered. “I’ll learn to love her.”

Ethan didn’t have to wait long to develop some affection for the creature. Tulip’s two forelegs were larger and more powerful than the four in the rear. She pulled herself across the open ground with ease, gliding over the terrain as though it was nothing. Compared to the donkey, the beetled handled errant logs, depressions over the open fields, and other obstacles with ease. Even before they reached the river crossing to the south, the Caller decided that he did absolutely love her.

The sacred lake in Oudsted fed into an adjoining river. Ethan had heard it joined somewhere to the south, a town named Daub resting at the fork. A road led from the southern gate of the town to a crossing, cutting west into the less-supervised hills of Duke Leonard’s territory. The people here tied themselves to the land more than the flow of commerce. They’d established smaller settlements, too few in population to be called proper towns. The Caller wouldn’t have set himself up here.

After crossing the river, Tulip having no problem with the fording, Ethan saw the gentle rise of the land. From the flat lands they’d walked for part of the day, to the sudden shift of rising hills. The sight led to the sprawl of mountains further east, and the Fangstone stretch southeast. Plunging into the familiar forest, the Caller felt some of Lucantele’s will enter his mind. Crowded diamond-patterned oaks sprawled before them, the crowd of the underbrush, and the sounds of many calling birds.

“We’ll make it faster this time,” Targe said, leading Tulip through the tangle of trees.

Ethan could see a problem there. They’d have to remove some trees, unless they picked a winding path through the forest. Spending the first night under the canopy of trees, sharing stories of how they met, the group felt content. Only when they came across the jagged rise of earth, where Twist first met Ethan, did any sense of tension flow through them. The Caller felt more emotional than he’d expected, asking his companions to stop for a break. Lucantele’s temple was near, and he wasn’t sure he was ready.

“Saved your ass here,” Twist said, pointing at the hill.

“Yes, you did.” Ethan summoned Luca. For comfort and the idle experience the spirit gained.

Twist put a kettle on the magic fire, preparing some of their new tea for the break. Targe busied himself with Tulip, producing a hard-bristled brush to scrub down her carapace. Neither man would tell Ethan how much they’d paid for the creature. He stopped asking after the first day of empty responses.

A system message popped up as Ethan was playing with Luca.

[Lucantele] gained 0.5% bond experience.

Ding!

[Lucantele] has reached level 5.

Now came the job of sifting through Luca’s upgrade abilities. Just like Radiant said, there were new options hidden behind the Rank 1 requirement. They were more powerful versions of the existing abilities. For now, Ethan wanted to avoid taking [Mist of Hope], the ability that removed status effects from party members. [Light of Hope] was a healing ability that scaled with the summon’s rank. But something new caught his eye.

[Persistent Light of Hope]

Summon Ability

Mana Cost

Low

Description:

A persistent light of hope surrounds your target. Targeted friendly will heal damage over time based on the rank of this ability.

Effect:

Apply a scaling heal-over-time effect to the target.

Ethan had yet to find a heal-over-time ability. He really wanted to take [Light of Hope], but couldn’t justify it. For the foreseeable future, he’d be using a [Healer’s Subcore]. His [Evoker’s Subcore] was interesting with its [Echo] effect, but it wasn’t strong enough for him to justify the lack of heals. [Persistent Light of Hope] bridged a gap. It still built his [Summon Lucantele] ability as a support summon, but gave him some room to wiggle before he got a new subcore.

He selected [Persistent Light of Hope].

The Symbol of Lucantele stared up at him after he selected the ability. Ethan commanded him to use it, watching as streams of silver light surrounded himself. The healing power of the spell flowed through him, although he had no health to heal.

“New ability?” Targe asked.

Ethan dismissed Luca and summoned Tel. The blue lizard burst from his magic circle and stomped around the area. “Yeah. Got myself a heal-over-time ability.”

Targe knelt, patting the Symbol on its little lizard head.

Ethan fell into a cycle of summoning Tel until his mana ran out, recharging, then doing it again. As the group packed up from their break, another notification popped up.

[Telbarantis] gained 1% bond experience.

Ding!

[Telbarantis] has reached level 5.

“Whoops,” Ethan said. “I’ll follow you guys while I look at these options.”

Twist and Targe pushed ahead with Tulip while Ethan consulted his upgrades. Keeping in mind that he wanted Tel to be a tank, he dismissed the abilities that were more about damage. But the Great Spirit’s Symbol seemed to want to be a tank. There were great picks in the list to support his [Bulwark] ability. But when the Caller spotted a familiar ability, he knew he needed to take it.

If Ethan couldn’t keep Tel out for long, the creature was useless for his strategies. The idea of a [Mana Regen] build was to restore as much mana as possible. That meant taking the [Pact Upgrade 1] ability, even if there were tempting choices in the list. Telbarantis cost 15 mana every 5 seconds to maintain. In combat, the Caller only restored 7.25 mana every 5 seconds. [Pact Upgrade 1] reduced the perpetuation cost to 11 mana. He decided that every summon he got needed that upgrade. 4 mana every 5 seconds made a big difference.

Then it was time to do a little math.

Ethan spotted the slow rise that led to Lucantele’s temple, but crunched the numbers in his mind. One point in [Mind] gave him 0.5 [Mana Regen]. It also added raw mana, but that wasn’t his concern. With 19 [Mind] and 14.5 [Mana Regen], he’d need to put 15 more points into [Mind] to make Telbarantis free of perpetuation costs. Luca wasn’t much better. He’d still need 11 points to make him free.

As the group caught sight of the temple in the distance, Ethan realized it didn’t matter. He already had a lot of [Mana Regen], didn’t he? Only when he spotted the glowing silver squirrel between ruined sections of the temple did he realize why he no longer cared. Hope burned through his chest, searing away any doubt.

“Hey, Luca!” Ethan shouted, breaking into a sprint.