The Newt and Demon - Book 4 Chapters 46,47,48 (Patreon)

Chapter 46

Throwing Stuff

It was easier to imagine the defenses of Broken Tusk in the Dreamwalk. Theo stood near the coast, imagining the walls that Ziz was working on. He imagined them further, sending them out into the bay, then constructing imaginary towers. He topped it off with the gate he wanted—another portcullis-style gate that would drop into the ocean on command. The walls would serve as causeways whereby folks could come out to check on the [Ocean Dungeon]. If Sledge could incorporate the entire thing into the town, that would be even better.

Alex spent her time in the Dreamwalk with Tresk, leaving Theo alone to think about the problems they faced. The town had taken care of the most common problems and were only left with future problems. That was an excellent position to be in, but it was a luxury provided by the wall of undead to the north. He went over his class cores as he thought about it, feeling no nagging sense from his intuition. The Wisdom of the Soul screen seemed to refuse to pop up in the Dreamwalk.

Theo’s [Governance Core] would hit level 30 tomorrow. But the [Tara’hek Core] had ardently refused to rise above that level. While all members of the bond noticed it, they paid it little mind. That core had a mind of its own. As he messed around with various tasks, all taking place on the new defensive seawalls, the alchemist felt his [Drogramath Herbalist Core] roll over to 24, which caused his personal level to hit the same level. But it was getting hard to know which attribute to place a point into. At least he could inspect his personal screen within the Dreamwalk.

Theo Spencer

Drogramath Dronon

Level 24

Alchemist

Core Slots: 6

Stats:

Health: 115

Mana: 190

Stamina: 125

Strength: 20 (+11)

Dexterity: 16 (+8)

Vigor: 22 (+8)

Intelligence: 26 (+9)

Wisdom: 30 (+7)

Points: 1

“Ah. I should have expected that,” Theo said, studying the screen. It no longer claimed his name was Belgar. A curious turn of events.

It was as though the system was correcting itself, which seemed like a frightening prospect. Khahar had mentioned a system on top of the system—could that have been a system designed to manage the other one? Something that corrected the way things worked when they went wrong. The ‘Harbinger’s Gift’ that he received seemed more like a coiled spring by the moment. Something bound to explode at any moment, releasing hidden intentions.

Theo shook himself, looking at his attributes once more. He didn’t want to go deeper into Wisdom anymore. With his modifiers, he was sitting at 30, which was good enough. Vigor had been a great option. The effects of that attribute were measurable. Intelligence was one attribute that was hard to define, but directly influenced his spellcasting. The world swirled around him as he moved himself, finding Tresk and Alex fighting a small horde of goblins outside the gates of the town.

“Oh, fancy alchemist!” Tresk grunted, driving her rapier into the heart of a goblin. “Come to grace us with your thoughtful presence?”

Theo side-stepped an approaching goblin, kicking it in the side. It crumpled. Tresk had summoned low-level goblins to help Alex train, which was a sweet things to do. He smiled at her. “I came to ask about attributes, actually.”

“Well, grab a sword. Or a rock. We’re bonding!”

The instinct that came first was to summon a bomb and kill all the goblins at once. But that wasn’t the spirit of Tresk’s game. She was training Alex, so it only made sense to act like a normal person would. This brought back one of Theo’s old problems—something he still hadn’t solved for himself. If he were to find himself in combat, what weapon would he use?

He saw almost no merit in using swords and daggers to fight. Without the correct skills, he would be open to attacks. Spears and those weird pole-axes Sarisa and Rowan used made more sense. He could get a lot of distance, keeping himself safe while he hacked away. Bows, crossbows, guns, and so on didn’t appeal to him. He had no moral objection to the things, they simply didn’t fit with his strengths. Throwing things, like bombs, fit in with his abilities.

Theo held his hand out, imagining one of his scrimshaw creations. Starting with his [Cloth Bracers of Tossing], and ending with his ability to enchant items twice. Once with his warding abilities, and the other with poisons. As for poisons, he had war crime levels of poisons at his disposal. He had created them for Tresk’s hit-and-run style of combat, but this would do. A bone knife appeared in his hand, weighted the way he thought a good knife should be. It wasn’t part of his training on Earth, but the system would take care of the dexterous part of the act.

The bone knife glowed under his words, taking on the ward of [Lesser Force]. He repeated the process for several knives as Alex and Tresk fought on. Flames soared into the air, and he even saw pitiful vines reaching from the ground. Once his stock of throwing knives was complete, the alchemist dipped them all in a potent second tier [Poison] modified with [Accelerated Decay]. It was one of his most vile poisons.

“I’m ready.”

“You’d have been dead five times by now.”

“I’m all about preparation, Tresk. Give me enough time and I could kill the gods.”

“I wish I doubted that. I really do. Alright! Playtime is OVER!”

The goblins vanished in puffs of smoke. When the haze cleared, four boss Trolls stood in the looming fog. Each was level 30, and none waited around for the Marshling’s command. Theo froze for a moment. Not out of fear, but in awe of how far Tresk had come. She wove a dance of death around one Troll, striking at it before vanishing just as quickly. Like a flash of lightning, she brought her monster to its knees with little effort. Veins of black tracked deadly paths along the creature’s skin, leaving behind rotting flesh.

Theo’s mind honed to a razor’s edge. Time seemed to slow for a moment as he practiced the motion mentally. Five bone knives soared through the air, slamming into one Troll at nearly the same time. It was lifted off its feet, then sent flying back like a thousand-pound baseball. The creature slid across the ground, a web of deadly poison spreading across its body before it even hit the ground. The alchemist repeated the process, sending five deadly projectiles for the remaining two Trolls. He let out a steady breath when he was finished, straightening his robe and nodding.

“That should do it.”

The Trolls writhed on the ground, screaming in agony as their flesh sloughed off in sheets. It wasn’t one thing that made the dagger effective. The confluence of events required all his throwing gear, his affinity for the bone weapons, the poison, and the wards.

“Damn, alright!” Tresk shouted, cracking her knuckles. Alex honked awkwardly. “We gotta get you some different gear, buddy. Do you think there’s a class that just throws stuff?”

“There might be,” Theo said. “I’m pretty good at throwing stuff.”

“You’re great at throwing stuff. If there was a ‘Throwing Stuff Olympics’, you’d get the gold, buddy.”

Tresk was sparse with her compliments. She had dug into his mind to make the olympics reference, but he appreciated it all the same. The Marshling went over his gear with him, selecting pieces that weren’t as effective for this style of combat. His [Robe of the Defender], which reduced stamina usage for people around him, had overstayed its welcome. It had repaired itself, but was now less useful than his other gear.

“Azrug will have stuff for you.”

“Isn’t he on vacation?”

Tresk only shrugged. She had an interest in making sure the three of them were a fighting force. After the ambush with the Zagmon Dronon, she had been strangely distant about training. Theo felt her apathy toward the idea, seeing him as a lost cause for combat. His display in the Dreamwalk had awoken something frightening in her. A plan unfurled in her mind to train him into the ground, making him a dagger-tossing machine. A quirk of the Tara’hek was that she could feel his old habits dying off. His aversion to combat was fading. It was hard to tell if that was a good thing.

For the rest of the Dreamwalk, Tresk ran combat drills. She emulated the situation that almost got Theo killed before, and other variations of that. His throwing weapon technique was effective, but that marked him as a back-liner. Those who rested on the edges of a fight were often targets, according to her.

“But that’s why I have Sarisa and Rowan. Right?”

“Yeah, but that means I have to train them.” Tresk grumbled, pulling her rapier free from another Troll’s skull. “This is a step in the right direction, though.”

That was a more positive statement than she normally made. Theo saw that as a good thing. Their training went on for the rest of the Dreamwalk, ending only when the dawn drew near in the real world. Tresk ended their training session by dragging them all out of the dream realm, sending them into their comfortable beds.

The scent of freshly brewed tea was the first thing Theo could sense in the real world. Then the smell of something freshly cooked, and a chattering conversation from downstairs. He rubbed his eyes, then swung his feet out of bed. Tail swishing and toes wiggling, he lingered there for some time. If he was truthful with himself, he would admit that he was excited about the system’s new designation for him. Belgar was close at hand in Tero’gal, but he felt more distant than ever. For the first time since he got here, the alchemist felt as though he were in his own body.

Downstairs, the scene was lively. Fenian was testing his new leg, falling over more times than he stayed upright. Everyone crowded around the massive dining room table. Sarisa and Rowan flew around, serving those that wanted food and topping off cups of tea. Theo followed Sarisa as she went to the kitchen, cornering her there for a quick chat.

“Tresk is concerned,” Theo said, watching the unsurprised look on the Half-Ogre’s face.

“When isn’t she?”

“Well, we’re working on me. My ability to fight.”

Sarisa looked him up and down, then chuckled. “You’re about as useful as a feral Ogre Snapper in a fight. No combat cores, right? Unless you count that mage core.”

Theo cleared his throat. “Right. We’re going to do some training sessions in the real world. I just wanted to warn you.”

She cleared sweat from her brow with a small length of cloth, then nodded. “I appreciate it. Actually, I’m interested to see what you can do.”

Theo helped her serve everyone at the table before they both took a seat. Instead of ordering breakfast from Xam’s, Sarisa and Rowan had cooked the meal themselves. They were smart about it. Instead of trying something fancy, they went for something simple. Fried Pozwa eggs with Karatan steaks. The only meal that would have represented the Half-Ogre appetite more was a slab of fire-cooked wolf meat.

While breakfast was good, Theo was excited to see Azrug for the first time in a while. The young Half-Ogre had occupied his time with the dealings of a Lord Merchant. Tresk, Alex, Sarisa, and Rowan joined with the alchemist after breakfast was done. Only the Marshling knew where Azrug had set up shop, and when they got there it was disappointing.

“He’s running his shop out of a house?” Theo asked, making a face as though he had just smelled something foul. “How unlike him.”

“Nice to see you, too,” Azrug said, poking his head out of the front door. “Supply lines are screwed. I can’t get a [Shop Seed Core].”

“We need to look at your gear, Loremaster,” Tresk said, striking a pose.

“Oh, you’re paying for something today? Well, come on in!”

Azrug’s ‘shop’ was just the first floor of the house crowded with shelves. It was located in the planned neighborhood area, nestled among the tightly packed homes. Theo had missed it, because he never went to the neighborhood. The shopkeeper’s other venture was the stables near Miana’s ranch. Something that the alchemist was planning on replacing with his monorail.

Tresk browsed the shelves, but defaulted to asking Azrug what stock he had for throwing things. The thing about the items he stocked was that they were different. Loot dropped by monsters often had properties locked away, but he had a [Loremaster’s Core]. High enough to unlock the second property on most low-level gear. His shelves were piled with gear that had at least two effects, sometimes three.

The amount of useful crap Tresk intended to buy from Azrug was staggering. She was prepared to spend a small fortune to gear Theo out, and he wouldn’t object. While the pair went over the synergy of the items, Theo looked over the things the young shopkeeper had collected. There were likely several spiritstone coins' worth of stuff in there. Once they were done selecting items to buy, they went over the gear.

“First, we’re getting rid of that stupid [Plume of Defiance],” Tresk said, holding out a leather hat. It had a wide brim and a pointed top that had flopped over to the side. The color seemed to shift from green to dark brown. The alchemist inspected the item.

[Wizard’s Hat of the Poisoner]

[Hat]

Rare

A Karatan leather hat once said to be in the possession of a foul Poison Mage. It seethes with malicious intent.

Effect:

Increase the effects of poison.

Increase the duration of poison.

[Effect Locked]

Theo placed his old hat into his inventory, then put the new one on his head. Despite logic, it fit perfectly over his horns. “Do I look like a wizard, yet?”

“You’ll look less like a wizard by the time we’re done,” Azrug said, producing the next item.

“This one is dedicated to your throwing ability, meant to replace your [Robe of the Defender]. It synergizes with your scaling [Shirt of the Dexterous].” Tresk ran her fingers over the item. It was a padded shirt with tails that would go over his thighs. As the alchemist removed his robe, he inspected the item.

[Gambeson of the Claw]

[Cloth Gambeson]

Epic

A gambeson belonging to a member of a secret order of assassins.

Effect:

Throwing weapons will travel 1.25 faster than normal.

Dexterity granted by items increases the speed at which throwing weapons move by 0.1 times per point.

[Effect Locked]

Theo pulled the black-dyed gambeson over his head. Tresk helped him secure the black iron clasps around himself. While it was a more form-fitted piece, it was just as comfortable as his robe. But the new outfit exposed his pants and boots, making the ensemble look silly. It didn’t help that he had a wizard’s hat on.

“Don’t you have a robe that does the same thing?” Theo asked.

“Robes are out of fashion. It’s all about the gambesons now.” Tresk’s words had confidence, but the sense he got from her was one of lies.

“It’s too good not to wear,” Theo said with a huff. “Alright, what’s next?”

Both pieces of gear fed into his new strategy of throwing stuff. Even without his idea of using knives, this made him better at throwing potions. So long as they applied a poison effect. While Azrug didn’t have any gloves for him, he offered to use his Loremaster abilities to unlock another property on his [Cloth Bracers of Tossing]. That proved to be a great thing. The alchemist inspected the result.

[Cloth Bracers of Tossing]

[Bracers]

Rare

Enchanted Karatan wool cloth bracers.

Effect:

Increase the accuracy of any thrown item.

Missing the intended target with a thrown item increases the accuracy of your next attempt. Stacks 10 times. Stacks expire after 1 hour.

[Effect Locked]

Combined with the first effect, the bracers were now awesome. Theo liked the idea that he’d get more accurate as he missed targets.

“Just a few more things,” Tresk said, tapping a pair of pitch black leather boots with her finger. “This one is my favorite.”

Theo slipped the boots on. They had deep treads and came up to his knee. That would be perfect for stomping around the marsh. As always, they were absurdly comfortable for boots. He inspected them.

[Leather Boots of the Defiler]

[Leather Boots]

Epic

Boots belonging to a long-dead necromancer. These boots root the user to the ground, enhancing all necrotic effects.

If both of your feet are planted on the ground when you apply necrotic damage, the effect is doubled. This effect is removed if either foot leaves the ground while the necrotic damage is taking place.

[Effect Locked]

[Effect Locked]

“Go look at yourself in the mirror,” Tresk said, gesturing to the far end of the store.

To Theo’s surprise, there was a full-sized mirror in the corner. He went over, checking himself out in the mirror. He looked more like a discount villain than anything else. What he didn’t notice was the soft clink of coins behind him. The exchanging of a fortune behind his back. When he caught onto it, spinning around, there was no evidence of the coins.

“How much was it?” Theo asked.

“I’ll never tell,” Tresk said, wiggling her eyebrows.

Theo forced his will into her mind, but it was like running up against a brick wall. She noted the intrusion and smiled, sauntering over to pull him into a hug. “No price is too much to keep my Theo safe.”

The alchemist patted Tresk on the head, unable to keep the smile from his face.

“Alright. Let’s go mess around. Throw some daggers.”

“Hell yeah!”

Chapter 47

Upgrades and Adventure

Gasses bubbled up from the turgid swamp. A mixture of decaying vegetation and stagnant water that release more foul smells than Theo could identify. The trilling calls of distant insects punctuated every squelching boot within the mire. Tresk led the way, keeping out of the shadows but staying low. Alex, Theo, and Sarisa stalked behind her with a level of stealth that was completely unnecessary.

The [Swamp Dungeon] had pushed beyond level 30, but the creatures within the area weren’t always so lucky. [Ogre Snappers], and [Marsh Wolves] were a common sight out here. The adventuring body of Broken Tusk had long since out-leveled the area, but it represented a chance to train. And the Marshling only knew one way to do things. Through stealth. The alchemist’s place in any organized defense of the town would be as a back-liner, that much was true. But this is the way she wanted to train.

Tresk issued a series of sharp hand-signals. They were leftover pieces of the Qavellian army on the small swamp town. Things picked up by both Aarok and Luras, then disseminated through the adventuring folks in town. Theo didn’t need to understand the signals. He felt the marshling’s intent through the motion, signaling that there was a snapper up ahead. While everyone but Theo and Alex had some stealthing ability, everyone remained visible. If only for the alchemist’s sake.

Another quick signal. Sarisa fanned out to the right, while Tresk went to the left. A snapper was buried in the mud with the top of its shell exposed. When in position, Sarisa, with her [Baelthar Guardian’s Core], slammed the blunt end of her poleaxe into the creature’s shell. A geyser of mud shot high into the air, painting the area in a layer of brown-green muck. The Marshling flinched, but didn’t move. Her instinct to strike before a fight got out of hand was strong, but Theo felt her desire to see him work in a real-world scenario burning like a bonfire.

For all their preparation, the resulting fight was brief. Theo launched a single bone dagger with his most powerful poison at the turtle. It stuck into the monster’s side like a hungry leech, sucking away its life in moments. The turtle fell in a heap, letting out a low sigh before dying.

That was anticlimactic, Alex said, honking.

“How accurate are you with those things?” Sarisa asked, wiping mud from her face.

Theo had placed his free point into Dexterity. But the gear was what made him precise with his throws. There was a strange interaction between his attributes and his ability to throw, though. Dexterity and Strength were the logical picks for someone going for a throwing build. But Wisdom had a measurable influence on the action. The alchemist withdrew an untreated knife from his inventory, judged its weight, then let his Wisdom guide him. He snapped his wrist and the dagger went flying toward a tree.

“Fairly accurate.” Theo gestured toward the tree. Pinned under the knife was a tiny Fire Salamander half-way up the massive Ogre Cypress.

“Did we finally find something Theo is good at? In combat, I mean,” Tresk said, not bothering to clear the muck from her face. “He’s great at potions, don’t get me wrong. But for a future super soldier, he’s always been so wimpy.”

“I resemble that remark.”

Sarisa and Tresk descended into a conversation about Theo’s abilities. Military minded as they were, they discussed the best position for him in battle and how he could best use his tossing abilities. It wasn’t even a question before. He was always providing support during monster waves, but now he could make a difference. But the alchemist’s mind lingered on other things. The group moved through the swamp as they chatted, putting him to the test each time they encountered a monster.

The thing that occupied Theo’s thoughts was his Toru’aun core. Every 10 levels was a segmentation of power and understanding. He reviewed the book he was working on for Salire. The secrets of Drogramathi alchemy put a firm barrier between first and second tier potions. Another layer in the process that produced more powerful potions by adding another step. For alchemy, it was a refinement technique based on applying pressure to essences. What would it be for his wards?

They spent half the day in the swamp, but it turned out to be a lure. Tresk had intended to take Theo down into the [Swamp Dungeon] that day, but he refused. The alchemist had enough materials to fight through the swamp, but when faced with enemies at a higher level than himself, he refused with no uncertain words. The Marshling was grumpy about it for a while, but opened herself to his feelings. She felt the trepidation and backed off immediately.

“All in time, right?” Tresk asked, patting Theo on his lower back. She simply couldn’t reach any higher. “You’re free for a few hours. Then I’ve got more training planned.”

Free from his combat obligations, Theo made his rounds through the town. His first stop was the Newt and Demon to check on Salire. He found her praying before the idol of Drogramath, no doubt asking for him to bestow a core onto her. He doubted it worked that way, but tried not to be judgemental.

“Oh!” Salire said, rising and dusting her pretty sundress off. “Sorry, I was just…”

Theo waved her off. “I get it. You have your heart set on a demon core.”

Salire’s cheeks flushed a dark shade of maroon. She suddenly busied herself with a ream of parchment, detailing the orders for the day. There was good news on the new potions. Citizens were willing to pay a premium for the third tier attribute potions, which was no surprise. The soon-to-be-alchemist had already worked her ass off that day, creating enough liquor to get the entire town drunk ten times over. While it was dangerous, she was able to create the unrefined version of the dilution without blowing up the lab.

“What we’re lacking,” Theo said, snapping the lid of the last still closed. “Is more space. More of Throk’s advanced stills.”

Salire rubbed her hands together, a gleam of recognition in her eyes. “Are we upgrading the lab?”

Theo nodded. He had enough leftover cores to get the building to 30 if he wanted. A Wisdom of the Soul notification popped up, claiming it was confident that 30 was their current cap. It left out what mechanism kept them at that level, but he’d take it.

“We’ll get two upgrades, but the space is the most important part. I’ll send it north and south so I don’t crush my greenhouses.”

Theo chatted with his apprentice as he shoved cores into the building. While he maintained a conversation with her, his mind drifted elsewhere. Perhaps it was a combination of his Wisdom and Intelligence, but he found the act to be effortless. The thing his thoughts centered on was how to upgrade his wards. More Wisdom notifications popped up, pointing him in the right direction with every errant thought. Just before the building hit level 25, he came to a simple conclusion.

“It makes sense,” Theo said, cutting Salire off as she spoke. She cleared her throat, looking at him with concern. The Half-Ogre had just been talking about a suitor she had spurned. The alchemist pushed on. “You can think of pressure treatment for essences as a way of reinforcing them, right?”

“Uh, sure?” Salire asked, cheeks flushing again. “I’ve always thought of it as a refinement process. Getting rid of impurities.”

Theo tapped his chin, then ran his hand over his horns. “I wonder if Drogramath Dronon horns are a reagent.”

“You alright? What were you just saying?”

Theo shook his head, centering his thoughts. He thought he had figured out how to get his wards to the next level, but it may have been a combination of things. “Second tier is pressure refinement, and third tier is mana infusion. I think second tier wards need a circle of reinforcing Toru’aun script—something to bolster the nature of the ward. But now I see it’s more like… footnotes? Something that helps the spell stabilize itself. Like removing the impurities from essence.”

“That implies that Toru’aun’s magic is similar to Drogramath’s alchemy.” Salire and Theo sat with that thought for a long time. The alchemist let it wash over himself—a sense of recognition that he already knew.

“How close are the other demon skills?” Theo asked. “And what does that mean? Why are they so similar?”

A Wisdom of the Soul notification popped up, trying and failing to draw lines between the demon gods. He didn’t have enough information to figure out their secret. But there were secrets there. And they wouldn’t go uncovered forever. Salire just shrugged, gesturing to the [Monster Core] in the alchemist’s hand. He shoved it into the building, expanding it out yet again. The system notification popped up, presenting him with several choices for upgrades.

[Root Cellar]

A cellar for preserving reagents is housed under the lab. Reagents placed inside of the cellar decay at a slower rate.

[Experimentation Room]

A reinforced room is placed behind the lab, creating a safe place to conduct explosive experimentations.

These two upgrades had been there since the start of Theo’s alchemical journey. [Root Cellar] was absolutely useless with the arrival of [Dimensional Storage Crates]. While he was tempted to take [Experimentation Room] several times, it just didn’t seem worth it. Not unless the room had a way to vent gasses, which wasn’t described in the upgrade screen. Instead, he checked the third upgrade option.

[Internal Liquids Storage]

Adds a [Liquid Storage] attachment behind your lab. This storage method can be interfaced with your existing systems. All liquids added to the storage system will be stored separately, causing no unexpected alchemical interactions. Base capacity is 10,000 units.

“Well, that’s just miles better than the other ones,” Theo said, selecting the [Internal Liquids Storage] option.

The lab buckled under their feet, sending things clattering to the ground. The stills sloshed ominously. Both Theo and Salire rushed to the window, spotting a massive copper tank outside. The alchemist focused on the attachment, causing a notification to pop up.

[Liquid Storage]

[The Newt and Demon]

Building Attachment

Owners: Theo Spencer, Tresk

Faction: [The Southlands Alliance]

Level: 1 (0%)

Expansions:

None

“See, those are the best kinds of upgrades,” Theo said, nodding at the large tank. “We can upgrade that, then get more use out of it. Since its part of a seed core, we don’t have to worry about things going wrong.”

“That’s awesome.”

Pulling his head into the lab, Theo spotted new pipes running all over the place. Now he had to figure out if he wanted to finish upgrading the building, or upgrade the [Liquid Storage] first. He tapped his foot, thinking about which upgrade would bring him the most joy right then. After a quick nod, he decided to finish with the lab first. The alchemist shoved more cores into his building, resuming his chat with Salire.

“I have enough low-level cores to get the [Liquid Storage] attachment to at least level 10. So, we’re good. Anyway, what were you telling me about that over-eager Marshling?”

Salire resumed her story where she left off. There was a Marshling in town that had taken a fancy to her. He delivered [Flame Roses] almost every day until he nearly burned himself. After that he swapped to [Widow Lilies], which struck a nerve with the budding alchemist. Even outside the alchemical arts, they were considered portents of death. That didn’t stop his over-eager nature, and he continued his courtship.

“I can’t see myself with him. But he just won’t stop.”

Theo tapped his foot. “I could have him executed, if you like.”

“Stop!” Salire said, punching him in the arm. But a smile hung on her face.

“You’re being too nice to him. He sees you as a local Half-Ogre. They’re very pushy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he still loved you after you hit him in the face.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Talk to Xam. She’s good at dealing with suitors. I’m pretty sure the moon-wizard Uharis was coming on to her.”

Theo continued to shove cores into the building, talking with Salire about other things. But he took her concerns seriously. Some guy not getting the hint was one thing, but when was that harassing behavior? Or maybe he was thinking too much about it, and it was actually a cultural problem. His mind flung back to Earth, and the troubles he had with relationships. People preferred short-term arrangements back there, seeing as the world was being swallowed by a sun. He was one of the people who valued a good partner. Someone who was more than just a fun night in some dingy Moscovian hovel.

Only now, long after taking the Tara’hek with Tresk, did he think he could finally move on. The alchemist wanted to snatch at the silver locket on his chest. The metal, faded from too many comforting clutches, had a personality all its own. But that chunk of memories was likely melted on the surface of a dead planet, fused with his old body. A corpse in a field of corpses. Dead memories and dead lovers.

“Theo?” Salire asked.

Theo blinked away his stupor. His technique for splitting his thoughts had failed, consumed as he was by the past. The alchemist cleared his throat, inserting the last core into the building. The system notification popped up, but he took a moment to appreciate the amount of space they had gained. Now the vents overhead could hold more stills, giving them more production capacity. He pushed those old memories to the back of his mind, locking them away yet again.

“Upgrade time,” he said, consulting the newest upgrade for his building. Salire looked on with concern.

[Lab Extension]

This upgrade adds a third floor to your building. The entire top floor will contain more floor space for your alchemy equipment, as well as a vent system doubled in size. The second floor will be split between sleeping accommodations and a wide-open area for experimentation. Your first floor will remain as a shop.

“Now that is an upgrade,” Theo said, chuckling.

“That’s a good one…” Salire trailed off, eyes searching the alchemist’s own.

Theo selected it, bracing himself as the floor rumbled beneath him. The stills vanished from the spot. The ceiling above shifted, no longer holding the massive black iron flue that sucked away all the vapors. The staircase was now a switchback staircase, leading up to the newly-created third floor. He darted up those stairs, whistling as his new work area. There was far more room on the third floor, as it didn’t have to support the bedroom. Instead of a cramped interior, there were now large windows he could open, giving him an amazing view of the town. The building had magically transported the stills to their new spots, resting on plates of iron.

“This is cool,” Salire said, inspecting the new room.

Theo blew out a sigh. She was perceptive, which was a great quality to have for an alchemist. A natural affinity for noticing small details would get her far in the business. That was one of his weaknesses. Missing those little things. “Alright. Say what you’re going to say.”

But Salire didn’t say anything. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a comforting hug. Some people were annoying when it came to these things. Tresk would have just huffed and left the room—something the alchemist would have appreciated. This approach was acceptable, though. He lingered there, hugging the Half-Ogre back with a smile.

“A nice hug can make things better, right?” Salire asked, her voice hopeful.

Theo pulled away, holding her by her shoulders. “Hugs make everything better. But you know I’m an outworlder, right? Want to hear a story?”

Salire nodded, now eager that the alchemist would open up. He began at the start, because it only seemed appropriate. Detailing his years in the youth program, then all the spying and the killing. Everything was painted in blood until he met her. Then things changed. The pair proceeded downstairs to upgrade the storage tanks as he rambled on. Words spilled out of him without his command. A catharsis brought by dumping every errant feeling he’d felt over the past 40 years.

Salire was a good listener.

Theo fed cores into the [Internal Liquid Storage]. It was a good place to stop his story. This was all he was willing to share with anyone. That part of the tale never sat right with him. An unfair hand dealt by fate. A life ended too soon. In a world with an expanding sun, bathing the landscape in deadly radiation and sunlight, nothing had ever seemed darker to him. No one deserved a second chance less than him.

“First round of upgrades,” Theo said, cutting his story off and reading the upgrade options.

[Expanded Capacity]

The size of your tanks doesn’t grow, but the capacity does. Adds another 500 units of capacity for every level.

[Even Flow]

Liquids flow through the system at twice the normal rate.

[Suction System]

Every pipe generated by this attachment has a mote-powered vacuum.

“Obvious upgrade,” Salire said, laughing.

“Capacity, right? Since it scales.”

“Yep.”

Theo selected the [Expanded Capacity] option before shoving more cores into the tank. A smile hung on Salire’s face. A warmth spread between them, as though the feelings he shared left behind a little fire. Something to keep away the darkness. “Next upgrade. Ah, kinda sucks.”

[Preservation]

Liquids stored in these tanks will not rot.

“Can essences go bad?” Salire asked.

Theo wasn’t sure. Given time, they might become unstable, but rotting? He doubted that would ever happen. Instead, he selected the [Suction System] upgrade. The Half-Ogre agreed that was the best pick between the three options. The alchemist inspected the attachment before moving on. Level 10 was plenty for now.

[Liquid Storage]

[The Newt and Demon]

Building Attachment

Owners: Theo Spencer, Tresk

Faction: [The Southlands Alliance]

Level: 10 (5%)

Capcity: 15,000 units

Expansions:

[Expanded Capacity]

[Suction System]

“Good bit of upgrading today,” Salire said with a nod. Theo inspected the Newt and Demon.

[Alchemy Lab] [Alchemy Shop]

[The Newt and Demon]

Owners: Theo Spencer, Tresk

Shopkeeper: Salire Hogrush

Faction: [Broken Tusk]

Level: 30 (2%)

Rent Due: 2 Days

Expansions:

[Alchemy Shop]

[Drogramath Distillation Specialty]

[Shrine to Drogramath]

[Alchemical Garden]

[Internal Liquid Storage]

[Lab Extension]

“Yeah. We did good. Also, thanks for the talk. Feels like my mind is finally centering itself.”

“Time and good friends have a way of doing that.”

“Yeah. They do.”

Chapter 48

Spirits of Tero’gal

Theo rested near the pond in Tero’gal. Belgar had unfurled the letter written to him by Zarali, and was reading it again. That would mark his tenth time through the letter. The alchemist had spent most of his day working to get better at tossing his infused daggers. Having swapped to blunted wooden knives, Tresk had put him through his paces. Near the day’s end, he retreated into his private realm for some relaxation.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Theo said, gaining the attention of the Dronon’s spirit. “What are you two saying to each other?”

“She’s catching me up on what I missed,” Belgar said, setting the letter aside.

The spirit’s form became more solid by the day. He had gone from little more than a wisp, to something similar to a corporeal form. The strange thing was that he didn’t look like Belgar anymore. Not the body that Theo inhabited. The form he now took was his own making. Some internal version of himself that he had held in life. His features were more angular than his original body. Angular features with deep-set eyes gave him a more demonic appearance.

“That’s a lot of time to miss out on.” Theo let the cool water wash over his feet.

The pair chatted for some time. Nothing of importance, of course. But the act of bonding with the man who used to use his body made Theo feel uneasy. Even if Belgar didn’t seem to care. Their conversation was only cut short when an archway of ice rose, resulting in a stumbling Toora god. Benton looked flustered, but managed his expression before approaching them.

“Alright—phew—got a few spirits coming in hot,” Benton said, wringing his hands together.

Belgar brightened up, his newly formed brow knitting in disbelief. “From which brood?”

“All over the place,” Benton said. A shiver echoed through his body. “Ten spirits. All drifting between the realms like gods damned phantoms.”

“I’ll keep them in line, Theo.” Belgar gave the alchemist a quick nod.

“They’re bound by an oath. I’m not worried about them going rogue.”

Benton clapped his hands together once. “But the results? You’re going to be shocked. Anyway, are you ready for them?”

The moment Theo nodded, the icy portal teemed with magical energy. Ten spirits, all like Belgar when he first appeared in Tero’gal, marched out. Theo recognized which brood each came from with ease, spotting the color of their spirits. He made an assumption about two of them, though. Two from Zagmon, four from Drogramath, two from Tworgnoth, and another two he couldn’t identify. After a moment of observation, he concluded they were from Toru’aun’s brood. The hue of their spirit shifted through a range of colors, cycling with an upheaval of emotion.

The Dreamrealm of Tero’gal was filled with a chorus of confused voices. Only when Belgar came over, exuding a calming presence that washed over the crowd, did they stop their chatter. He gave a brief speech about being calm, wrangling those turgid wisps until they had settled down. After that, they were happy to listen to him speak. Only two Drogramathi Dronon left through the portal.

Benton leaned in as Belgar spoke, whispering into Theo’s ear. “The ones from Zagmon’s brood have nowhere to go. No choice but to accept whatever fate you have to offer them.”

“That’s too much power for one man,” Theo said.

The alchemist’s mind drifted away from the scene. Back to Broken Tusk, where he’d already happily taken in refugees. Perhaps that was a selfish thing on his part. He accepted those people to power his own burgeoning empire. Well, it was a trade alliance, but it felt more like a one-man empire by the day. More workers meant more power, that was obvious. But did the same rules apply here? In Tero’gal? He wasn’t about to turn away people who were in need. And it cost him nothing to house them here in his realm.

When Belgar finished his talking, eight Dronon spirits knelt before the alchemist. They swore what men and women in their situation would swear. Undying fealty. Sadly, they didn’t have an option. The Dronon could take their chances in the void, or flourish here in Tero’gal. The alchemist didn’t care which option they picked, and he accepted them all as one. Underfoot, the realm rumbled. The alchemist felt his mind spread out over the realm like a thin sheet of silk, blanketing the landscape as it begged expansion.

Theo swayed on the spot before Benton caught him. “The first time is rough,” the bear god explained.

“What am I supposed to expect?” Theo asked. His willpower wrapped itself around that sheet, holding firm to keep the realm together.

“That was enough souls for a few level-ups. Your realm is going to expand.”

The sensation Theo felt in his mind was like when he upgraded buildings on the mortal plane. A sense of expansion that was normally followed by a screen. The screen that showed up on buildings when they leveled was a prompt, asking for a direction to expand in. This was the raw form of that expansion. A primordial request from the system itself. A request that was supposed to filter through a god core. Instead, it ran through his body like a bolt of lightning.

Theo collapsed to the ground as his mind tried, and failed, to wrap itself around the request. Every nerve in his body burned as though held over a roaring fire. Benton shouted something he couldn’t hear. Belgar’s panicked footfalls came next. Someone was shaking the alchemist’s body as his mind reached further. Past the veil, over the Bridge of Shadows, and into the mortal realm. He reached for the only thing he knew he could trust in this world.

Time froze in Tero’gal. The sense of burning faded in an instant. Theo looked up from his position on the ground, blinking away his confusion. Belgar and Benton stood over him, shouting something at each other. They appeared as statues, locked in some eternal conflict. He felt something familiar. He heard a snap somewhere distant. Then Tresk and Alex tumbled through the air, slamming hard into the ground. The Marshling looked up, offense clear on her face.

“What the hell, man!?” Tresk shouted, pulling herself to her feet. “Did you just interdict me?”

Me too!

“I don’t know what happened,” Theo said. But the pain was gone. His grasp on the silk sheet had diminished, but it was still held in his will. “I was accepting some souls into the realm, then it felt like someone was lighting my body on fire.”

Theo took a moment to collect his thoughts. This shouldn’t have been possible. Tresk and Alex had already visited Tero’gal today. They should have been locked out. But ‘should’ made little sense in the otherworldly realms. If his instinct was to reach for Tresk and Alex, then they were the solution to his problem.

“Alright. Guess time is just frozen,” the Marshling said, poking Benton on his face. “New trick, or what? Who are all the spirits?”

“Dronon spirits,” Theo said, observing the frozen crowd of kneeling figures. “I think you need to help me wrangle Tero’gal. I think that’s why I reached out for you.”

Tresk pointed an accusatory finger at Theo. “Let’s not stir things up, okay? We got a sweet deal here, but it's on a knife’s edge.”

The ground underfoot rumbled. Another loud pop. Then Khahar’s rumbling voice washed over them. “I can’t leave you alone for five minutes without something happening, huh?”

Theo turned to the Arbiter. Reflexively, a smile spread across his face. “Did you come here with a bit of exposition?”

Khahar chuckled, striding across Tero’gal with his godly swagger. “Yeah, we thought this might happen. Your realm is more of a proto-realm. I just had a chat with the Twins about it. You need to join your mind with Tresk’s, then force yourself on the realm. Time should resume after that.”

“The twins?” Tresk asked.

The smile that spread across Khahar’s face belonged to Yuri. Lopsided and far too toothy. “The only other Tara’hek that lasted long enough to ascend to godhood. Twin Bantari Marshlings.”

Tresk jumped up and down on the spot, clapping her hands. “Marshy!?” she shouted.

“Neither are named Marshy. Anyway, get to it.”

Theo and Tresk closed their eyes at the same time. The alchemist shared the weight of that sheet. When the Marshling’s willpower came into play, it wasn’t like his firm grip. It felt like a mountain falling onto the sheet, laying it flat and holding it there with sheer authority. The scene cracked with a pop. The ground rumbled again. Before the spirits came into the realm, it was easy enough to see the edge of the island. It now sprawled out into the distance, expanded to such a distance as to make it almost impossible to spot the edge.

“This is Level 2?” Tresk asked, blowing out a steady breath. “Damn. Already so big.”

Khahar nodded, his eyes locked on the Marshling. That didn’t pass Theo’s notice. “Why is she so much better at this than me?”

“I don’t know,” Khahar said, his voice flinty. “It wasn’t in my predictions, and I cannot feel the source.”

The source of what? Alex asked.

Khahar turned, regarding the goose. “Her willpower is like an endless spring. The command she holds over your realm is beyond anything I’ve seen.”

Tresk shrugged. “I’m just really willful.”

“Hmmm.” Khahar turned away. “Be good, Theo. I’m in the middle of something.”

Without explaining himself, the Arbiter was gone. Time sped up in an instant. Benton and Belgar’s shouts filled the area, then declarations of confusion.

“What just happened?” Benton asked, chuckling nervously.

“We got it under control,” Theo said. He addressed the spirits. “Welcome to Tero’gal. Belgar will be your guide. Please don’t cause trouble.”

A chorus of agreement issued from the spirits. Belgar was confused, but led them away to lay the ground rules. Theo, Tresk, Alex, and Benton made their way to the cottage for some tea. The bear god busied himself with the kettle before sitting down at the old wooden table.

“How did you interdict her?” Benton asked, his voice almost a whisper. “I thought that was a forbidden thing. With the new rules.”

Theo had already rolled the problem over in his head. He could only draw one conclusion. “I think the Arbiter is bending the rules. Tresk and I are close, thanks to the bond. So close, that you might convince the system we’re the same person.”

This theory was inspired by several things. First was the bleeding of emotions through the core. Then the deep level of communication they had. Last was the system’s designation of Theo as a person in the world. It had originally listed him as Belgar, with his true name in parentheses. Now it just called him ‘Theo Spencer’. The moment he brought the owner of the body back into existence, it declared them entirely different things.

“You’re saying you tricked the system because of a core?” Benton asked, chuckling. “Well, it worked. So that’s weird.”

Tresk shook her head. Her pink skin was getting paler by the moment. “I don’t feel so good, Theo.”

“It has limits,” Theo said, nodding. That made sense. He didn’t have the same kind of willpower as her, so holding her here was too much. “See ya in a second, Tresk.”

With a wave of his hand, the alchemist sent both Tresk and Alex tumbling back to the mortal realm. They disappeared with a satisfying popping sound, leaving behind an uncomfortable silence in the cottage.

“You’re firmly in the realm of weird stuff I don't want to consider, Theo,” Benton said with a nod. He poured two cups of tea, producing several delicious lemon scones from nowhere. “But, hey. At least this is fun.”

Theo chatted with Benton at the table. Belgar was already putting the new spirits through drills. The pair could hear him prattle on about strengthening themselves by absorbing the power of Tero’gal. That could have been true. The spirit could have also just been asserting his authority.

When they were done with their tea, Theo walked the outside of his realm. Several features had appeared on the landscape. Clusters of rocks, a small forest, and several vacant homes. Belgar had been doing a good job of attending to the spirit fruits, but the alchemist didn’t know if he was ready to deal with those. It seemed as though the faster he introduced things to his daily work life, the more complicated things got. He shoved one of each fruit in his inventory, leaving the rest for storage crates in the realm.

The floating circle of land had grown to twice its normal size. Benton accompanied Theo to the edge. They gazed over, watching in ultra slow-motion as Tresk explained why she had winked out of existence for less than a second.

“You know you can travel back by willing yourself there. Right?” Benton asked.

“Yeah. But jumping off the edge is cool,” Theo said, falling backwards off the island.

Benton shouted something back, but Theo couldn’t hear it. As the alchemist passed over the bridge, he felt Uz’Xulven’s pull. She urged him to stop by the bridge. As he pressed his willpower against hers, he felt she was the better match. But without his consent, it was a losing battle. She only left him with a thought. A whispering string of words that lingered in his mind.

Tread carefully. The Arbiter’s hold isn’t absolute.

Theo felt his feet hit the wooden floor of his dining room. Everyone had gathered for dinner in his manor that night, eating the good food provided by Xam. All eyes turned to him when he arrived. While they were used to him vanishing for five minutes at a time, they were all confused about Tresk snapping out of reality for a fraction of a second.

The alchemist cleared his throat. “How about that weather?”

Theo rested himself on a rock in the Dreamwalk. He stared off over some unfamiliar horizon, tapping his foot. Tresk wanted to train tonight, but he was so lost in his thoughts as to be unreachable. Instead, she worked with Alex. The goose was close to mastering her new affinity, something that had only just showed up in her interface. Her connection with nature was weak compared to her connection with fire. But the constant training—drills issued by Tresk—had brought her to the mid-teens of her levels.

“A dog-sized goose,” Theo mumbled, watching as the pair trained. “A salamander-woman with an iron will. Well, what does that make me?”

“A pensive demon!” Tresk shouted, dodging a strike from a Troll.

“What do you think Uz’Xulven’s warning was about?” Theo asked, walking close to the battle.

Tresk thrust her rapier, skewering the Troll’s heart. But those creatures were known for their regenerative power. Only the most potent poisons, or the constant application of fire, would kill the creature. “She’s a paranoid idiot. You know who—whoops,” the Marshling ducked, nearly taking a club to the face. “You know who I’m worried about? Toru’aun.”

That was a good thing to be concerned about. Theo liked his [Toru’aun Mage’s Core], but there were too many things about it that rubbed him the wrong way. It should have been listed as a Demonmage’s core, but it wasn’t. The mysterious god gave it to him freely. No strings attached? Yeah, right. The Demon Lords never worked without strings. Enough rope to bind a person head to foot, more likely.

Matters weren’t helped by her title. The Queen of Mystery.

When everything went sideways in the heavens, there were only a few players. Khahar conspired with at least a few gods to get his throne. Parantheir, Uz’Xulven, and Toru’aun were the ones Theo knew about. On the mortal side, Fenian had a hand in the god’s ascension. There was no doubt in the alchemist’s mind about that. But his thoughts fell away as he realized the brick wall he was running up against.

“Alright,” he said, imagining a handful of imbued knives. “I’m ready to train.”

“Good!” Tresk snapped her fingers. The Trolls vanished. She snapped them again and another creature appeared flying above them. “We’re fighting a dragon.”

Tresk’s interpretation of a dragon was likely incorrect. Theo noted many similarities to what he expected from the creature, but hilarious differences. It had a fat stubby tail that seemed useless for flying. Its wings were shorter than they should have been, and it had a stunted neck. The face looked too close to a fish, although it did have the fangs he expected from such a creature.

The problem with fighting Tresk’s dragon was that she saw them as invincible. The first pass the creature made over the rolling fields killed all three combatants. On the tenth pass, Theo realized that the scales of the monster were impenetrable. Another wave of deadly dragon’s fire, and the Marshling called for a break.

“Where did you even see a dragon?” Theo asked.

“Oh, dad had this story book. He used to read it to me when I was a hatchling.

“Was the dragon in the story invincible?”

“Yep!”

“What’s the point in fighting an unkillable enemy?”

“No-win situations are real, Theo. You know that better than anyone.”

That stung more than he thought it would. He couldn’t tell if she was talking about his current situation, or what happened back on Earth. Either way, it left him feeling hopeless. But sensations like that didn’t last long in the Dreamwalk. After a short break, they were back at it. Dying at the claws of some invincible red dragon named ‘Firedeath’. Another few hours of that and the alchemist felt like maybe they could win.

“It’s just a matter of getting past the scales,” he said, putting out a small fire on the ground.

“That’s the spirit!” Tresk shouted. “Let’s go!”