The Newt and Demon - Book 4 Chapters 52,53,54 (Patreon)

Chapter 52

Ward Upgrades

The concept of time was difficult to grasp within the heavenly realms. There were no guarantees on the progression of sections to minutes, then minutes to hours, within Tero’gal. Only a person’s willpower allowed them to see that passage clearly. But there was a distinct advantage to resting within the realm. Any effects brought by a bond with a god, increased attributes, or other system-generated mind-altering states of being were rendered inert. The entire thing seemed design to remove the horrid condition a person would find themselves at above Level 100.

Tresk had an unnaturally strong willpower. She counted the seconds and minutes as though they were on the mortal plane, scoffing when Theo asked how many hours had passed.

“Five minutes since you last asked me!” she shouted.

Even Benton had things to attend to in his own realm, having departed several hours ago. Theo, Tresk, and Alex stood in an open field, watching as a gentle wind blew the surrounding grasses. Things like eddies formed atop that tall grass, dancing like water sprites in the fields. They watched Belgar and the ill-formed spirits, working to fell trees from the vast forest. He had a plan to create a small town by hand. Something that seemed absurd at first, until the alchemist considered the lone topic on his mind. The passage of time within the realm.

They could visit for twelve hours a day before upgrades. Tresk predicted that time would at least double. Five minutes would pass in the real world, and twenty-four hours would pass there in Tero’gal. While it was a chance to grind experience, the alchemist saw it as a chance to rest. Unburdened by the needs of the real world, he could appreciate the little things. Like scones and tea.

The small stream, fed by cool waters from a bubbling stream, had expanded. It snaked its way over the terrain, curving until it ran through the forests. Theo plunged into those depths, taking notes on the Earth-like trees around him. They were mostly pines, rising to the sky with sparse branches near the base and bushy little things near the top. Some old live oaks dotted the area, creating clearings with their greedy boughs. The group relaxed under one such tree, breathing a collective sigh of relief.

“This is nice,” Tresk said, shredding fallen leaves as she relaxed. The Marshling could not sit still under any circumstances.

Very relaxing. Alex preened her feathers.

Theo put off his need to talk about business. His mind had a tendency to wander, even here in Tero’gal. He kept his mouth shut, enjoying the endless roll of hours that flowed by like water from the stream. It bubbled somewhere nearby. Somewhere under the branches of Earth trees. What a strange thought to consider.

Tresk announced that the skill would end soon. They’d be sent tumbling back to the mortal plane. Theo imagined Fenian tapping his foot, waiting for them to return at any moment. Five minutes in the real world to twenty-four hours in Tero’gal.

“What a charmed life we live,” Theo said with a chuckle. He laughed even as an unseen force pulled him by the navel, sending them all falling through reality.

Fenian’s room came into focus moments later. The Elf was still in his wheelchair, tapping his fingers impatiently on the armrest. “A neat trick that most would kill to get.”

“Yeah, I understand your plan,” Theo said, nodding at the Elf. “But I have a question of far more importance.”

“And what might that be?” Fenian asked.

“What’s for dinner?” Tresk asked, finishing Theo’s thought.

In the short time they were gone, Salire had stirred from her slumber. When Theo went to check on her, she was trying to fight her way past Rowan. Only when the alchemist ordered her to rest until at least tomorrow did she calm down. The Half-Ogre assistant seemed frazzled by the newly minted alchemist’s eagerness.

“She’s stronger than she looks, Theo,” Rowan growled.

Theo didn’t care to remember when it had become a tradition to have dinner in his manor. But the table was long, and Sarisa always bought too much food from Xam. Perhaps it was the [Endless Comfort] upgrade that made even the roughest chair feel like a pillow of clouds. Whatever the case was, the dining room was packed with people tonight. Enough folks to fill every seat around the table, then another spot for Fenian to pull his chair up to.

Dinner was predictably delicious. The conversation swayed here and there, but Theo’s eyes were locked on Fenian. The conversations on the Bridge of Shadows and in Tero’gal got the alchemist thinking more about his motives. After the plates were cleared away, the alchemist invited him for a chat in the garden.

“Oh, trying to get me alone?” Fenian asked. “You’ll have to do more than wine and dine me, my dear alchemist. I’m hard to catch.”

Theo groaned, walking out into the expansive garden. Fenian followed closely behind, guiding his artifice wheelchair over the ledge, and out into the damp grass. It was still as hot as ever in the Season of Fire with no signs of letting up. But the thing lingering on the alchemist’s mind had nothing to do with the weather.

“I’m no stranger to your ideals, Fenian.” Theo busied himself with weeding the garden, plucking stray sprouts of green from the manicured area. “How many innocent lives are you willing to let fall for your plans?”

“We’re direct tonight, aren’t we? Someone must have ruffled your feathers in the other realms.”

Theo was familiar with similar doctrines. Not Fenian’s deflection, but his attitude toward casualties of war. That idea had seen most of Earth’s population annihilated. Left with what? A few domed cities clinging to survival. Outlying areas so irradiated they would never recover. Wisdom of the Soul didn’t need to tell him who had made the undead problem worse.

“I can’t help but think about all the people that died. Because of what you did.”

Fenian steered his wheelchair over a hump in the earth, edging toward a thorny bush. “Do you know the problem with an outside view?”

“What’s that?”

Fenian reached his good hand into the bush, pushing past the leafy exterior and into the tangle of brambles within. He withdrew his hand, holding it up to reveal a trickle of blood tracing its way down his forearm. “Everything gets messy on the inside.”

“But is Karasan that bad?”

“How can I put your mind at ease?” Fenian asked. He stroked his chin, lost in thought. “The undead were already moving, heading for the weakest settlements. The king’s plan was always the same. To hide away and leave them to die. This put his plans to hide the Throne of the Herald back a few steps, but not enough to stop him. He’d just wait. What I did was mercy.”

“How the hell is that a mercy?”

“Well, it was very tricky. When a person dies, they normally get cast into the void. They go through trials until they find their way to their patron. If they don’t find a realm to call home, they’ll likely die. Then they’re off to the hells. Torture for eternity and all that nonsense. What I did—rather genius, really—was to make sure they found a home.”

“Where did you send them? And how?”

“Balkor’s old domain. Rotting. Fading. But still there. Somewhere in the void. So, you’re left with a question. Aren’t you? Is Fenian evil because he brought the undead down swifter, or is he a saint because he guaranteed everyone involved an afterlife?”

Theo would have called him evil. Back before he gained his own realm, filled with dead people that seemed happy enough. Belgar was the best example for that. He was now living a life free of his mortal bonds, allowing him to enjoy himself. The alchemist saw the pieces that Fenian was laying down, and he didn’t know if he liked the conclusion. Some spirits that had died to the undead came to Tero’gal on their own.

“You want me to go get them, don’t you?” Theo asked, laughing. “You want them to live in Tero’gal.”

“Maybe,” Fenian shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “I’ll just say this. Karsan set his kingdom up to be destroyed by Balkor’s remnants. He built Qavell to harvest power from the towns he neglected. For the singular purpose of suppressing the throne. So I couldn’t reach it. So that he could lord over his little kingdom, reaping the rewards of an imperfect system. One designed to go through cycles of destruction and suffering.”

Theo tapped his foot on the wet grass. “What does the throne do?”

“It is one of several. One in the high heavens, one on the mortal plane, and a few in the void. The Throne of the Herald gives the occupant domain over the mortal plane. It would give me the ability to change things here, Theo. That comes with time, of course. I must occupy the throne for a long time. Undisturbed.”

Theo groaned, then shook his head. He took a steadying breath, tapping his foot faster. Fenian had already told him enough to put his mind at ease, but this new thing? Although he said nothing about it, the Elf wanted the throne in Broken Tusk. A curtain of undeath to the north to defend it. But in those moments of contemplation, the alchemist saw the silver lining. People had told him that this world was built on development, then destruction. An endless cycle that no one could break.

“So, you’re the guy?” Theo asked. “The one that’s going to make the entire world better?”

“Despite the blood on my hands, that was always our intention. I assume you’re sympathetic to my cause.”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

Theo needed a distraction to process the information Fenian gave him. A pleasant rest in the Dreamwalk would do him wonders. He had things he wanted to work on. New spells to cast for his mage core. Not some grand design wrought by Fenian and Khahar. And god knows who else. There were several thrones. Meaning more conspirators. But remaking the world to be better was a noble cause. Things weren’t the way they were meant to be, and there were powers stopping that change from happening.

“Alright. I’m going to bed.”

“Theo,” Fenian said, rolling after the alchemist as he walked away. “You’re still with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m with you to the end, Fenian,” Theo said, smiling. “Until we’re both dead from your over-reaching need to assume this throne. Until the world sees us as the villains because your convoluted plan involves killing a continent of people.”

“Yes. That’s all very good. But what rises from the ashes will dwarf anything that came before. Peace, my friend. Peace at last!”

Theo walked away before Fenian could draw him in anymore. That man could stab him in the belly and make him feel guilty for getting the knife dirty. Tresk was waiting with Alex in their bedroom. There were a few reports available in the administration screen, but the alchemist ignored them for now. Instead, he fell into bed and off to the Dreamwalk.

“Oh, you’re feeling spicy tonight!” Tresk shouted the moment their feet landed on soft ground. She had directed them to a dream version of Tero’gal.

“Is this ironic?” Theo asked. “A dream version of a heavenly realm?”

No, just weird.

Theo explained everything that had happened with Fenian. Tresk was sympathetic toward the Elf’s ideals, pushing the alchemist over the edge. If she agreed with his methods, then he was onboard. They were already too deep and there seemed no sense in stopping now. It would either pan out, or they’d all be dead.

Tresk tricked Theo into practicing his throwing knives for a while. He only took part in the training for a few hours before his mind wandered, breaking his concentration. He excused himself, wiping goblin guys from his clothes and moving to a small section of forest to practice his magic. While he had already figured out a way to craft second tier wards, he hadn’t put those concepts into practice. Drogramath’s crude limerick would have given enough of a hint.

The Drogramathi tongue was poetic. One thing Theo hoped to accomplish by putting his own thoughts down in a book was to dispel the mystery of the language. His copy of Basic Drogramath Alchemy was ‌useless by now. He paused for a moment.

“What do you call Toru’aun’s language? Toru’auni? Toru’aunese?” Toruish?”

Theo shook away the question, moving on to his work for the day. He imagined parchment and a pen, then wrote several spells out in their circular form. This was an introspective task, making the peaceful forest the perfect place. Even the battle in the distance wasn’t enough to draw him away from the work. After several hours of messing around with reinforcement rings of poetry, he found a rather simple solution.

A spell forged with the Queen of Mystery, Toru’aun, should be equally mysterious. The reading order was often nonsense, going from one part of the ring to another without reason. So why not continue the story on the outside of the ring? Theo expanded one of his simple spells, [Lesser Reveal], writing more of the hidden Dronons’ tale on the outside of the ring. He borrowed some willpower from Tresk, convincing the Dreamwalk’s system to allow him to discover something new.

It came together in a flash. The mana requirement to cast the second tier spells was far greater than the first tier. Theo focused on infusing a rock with the new spell, only to find himself drained by the end of it. He imagined more mana, then pushed on until the ward was complete. A plain gray rock pulsed with power for a moment, the shifting words of Toru’aun emblazoned on the surface. He inspected the ward, satisfied with his newest accomplishment.

[Reveal]

[Advanced Ward]

Creates a reactive field of [Reveal]. Field only activates when enemies are detected in range.

Trigger:

Detect Enemy

Duration:

5 days.

Sometimes the system was stingy with information. The second tier ward had a significantly longer duration, and the power from within was greater. Theo imagined a goblin nearby, close enough to activate the ward. The dome that sprung up was massive, easily twice the size of the old one. He spent more of his time in the Dreamwalk working on his other wards, memorizing those patterns so he could use them on the fly.

Theo could cast his wards without applying them to an object. But that method always seemed to fall flat for him. Almost as though Toru’aun herself designed his core for a specific purpose. To apply wards to objects, rather than channeling them as a spell.

The temptation to create a ward out of the powerful properties produced by the [Dragon Apple] was overwhelming. The system allowed him to absorb the property by imagining some [Refined Dragon’s Fire Essence], but the story didn’t come easy. He gave up when it had become twice as large as his normal wards, revealing the complexity of understanding such an intricate property.

Fortunately, the [Dragon’s Dance] property gave up its secrets easily. That wasn’t a surprise. The rarity on the [Dragon Apple Petals] was only epic, not mythic like the fruit itself. Theo wrote a story about Dronon performing a dance of death, defeating their enemies by crushing them underfoot. When he applied the ward to a stone, it shattered. Instead, he imagined a length of carved bone. That took the spell easily, revealing interlacing lines of text on the surface that glowed with colors shifting between red and black. The alchemist inspected his new ward, unsurprised by the description.

[Dragon’s Dance]

[Advance Ward]

Creates a reactive field of [Dragon’s Dance]. Field only activates when enemies are detected in range.

Trigger:

Detect Enemy

Duration:

5 days.

This was an interesting way to approach alchemy, Theo realized as he held the bone. They hadn’t brewed the potion-version of this property, yet. He set it down, got to a healthy distance, then summoned a goblin near the ward.

Theo flinched back as the goblin appeared. The reactive bubble surrounding the bone turned a fiery red. Streams of silver swirled through the sphere, lashing out at everything with impunity. Magical blades wove a dance of death, felling trees and vegetation as readily as the goblin itself. When the spell expired, the creature was nothing more than a stain of red on the ground and a lingering mist in the air.

“Chalk that up to ‘dangerous crap’,” Theo said, nodding to himself. He then applied the ward to a few bone daggers and ran off to find Tresk and Alex.

Tresk was running the goose through some drills. A small army of Trolls waited for the signal to attack while the Marshling rattled off combat tactics. Theo watched for some time, noting how Alex’s control of her nature aspect had developed. She was a true Broken Tusker already, facing a problem with nothing but force of will and determination. Great vines sprung from the ground near the feet of the Trolls, wrapping around the ankles with deadly thorns. Once she had constricted a group of the monsters, she opened her bill and issued forth a massive fireball.

Trolls writhed against the burning vines, their flesh covered completely in something like burning pitch. Theo watched with pride as his growing goose took out a fair number of the Trolls.

“She’s getting better,” Theo said, nodding with approval.

“Yeah, why do I have the feeling you’re gonna show us something cool?” Tresk asked, jumping up and down with excitement. “Just throw the dagger already!”

Theo laughed, withdrawing a warded bone dagger from nowhere. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it sailing at the burning Trolls. Pieces of the imagined creatures sailed from within the resulting sphere. It churned them into red paste, killing the weakened monsters with relative ease.

“Cool. Just gonna show off like that?” Tresk asked.

“It was cool, wasn’t it?”

Tresk grumbled. “Yeah. It was awesome.”

Chapter 53

Xotl

Theo listened with waning interest to the conversations floating around his dining room table. His thoughts centered on the concept of his manor. At first he thought it would be a place where he could be alone with his thoughts. That was an impossible thing from the start with the way Broken Tuskers were. As time went on he realized that the purpose of the manor was to bring people together. It was a sanctuary of formless meetings—the governmental nonsense they had to deal with stripped away to reveal a cozy spot to share tea. Folks stopped by when they wanted. They stayed in whatever room was free. Rowan and Sarisa kept it safe and clean.

Wisdom of the Soul messages would pop up as he pondered how things were going. Fenian’s plan became clearer to him by the day. It was always important to consider what the Elf said. To dig through the double-meaning and shrouded words to unearth something close to the truth. Instead of worrying about what that future held, Theo would prepare himself for the inevitable. That meant having talks with both Xol’sa and Zarali.

The extra-planar Elf held more secrets than he knew he had, and through conversation, Theo learned more about his strange people. What little there was to glean, that is. Xol’sa didn’t have memories of his home. After breakfast, Theo brought him aside into one of the many side rooms littering the manor for some tea and scones pilfered from Benton’s hospitality. The alchemist’s administration interface swirled with things marked “TODO”, but they could wait.

“You’re finally pushing yourself. Magically, of course,” Xol’sa said.

This was the cycle of that man’s personality. Swinging from a curt headmaster to a comforting teacher, depending on how hard Theo was trying. A knock came at the door, Sarisa showing herself in.

“Salire is here for you,” she said.

“I’ll meet her at the lab. Thank you.”

Without a word, the Half-Ogre woman ducked out of the room. Theo turned his attention back to Xol’sa and their rolling conversation. “I’ve worked out most of Fenian’s plan. I always thought he was using me to get what he wanted. But I think he wants Tresk.”

“Not to keep her, I hope,” Xol’sa said.

“No, of course not. When I gave you the potion to repair your soul, I realized something. You were given the designation of an ‘extra-planar Elf’ which is interesting. As if being born outside of the mortal plane is a normal thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

Theo couldn’t stop himself. He scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. The more time he spent in his private realm, the more he understood about the heavens. After taking a few souls into his care, the alchemist understood even more. Souls were a finite resource, generated on the mortal plane, not one of the many godly planes. One didn’t need high attributes to understand where this went.

“You’re from another place entirely. Another layer we’re not aware of. Well, I’m not aware of it.” Theo sipped his tea. He didn’t have the stomach to eat more scones. When he faced a problem with no solution, his stomach twisted into knots.

Xol’sa withdrew a ream of parchment from nowhere and began scribbling things down, humming as he wrote. “Interesting idea. I’d love to argue against the evidence, but… Well, here I am.”

“You’ve never thought of this before?”

“I’ve thought of it many times. Since I arrived on this plane as a child. Since my parents abandoned me—to fend for myself,” Xol’sa let out a frustrated breath. “But I cannot peer behind the curtain. No matter how much I try.”

“Your core,” Theo said, letting his thoughts come together. “It’s unique, as far as I can tell. Distill your abilities down for me, please.”

“An alchemy pun? Really?” Xol’sa asked.

He described his abilities and the spells he had learned over the years. It seemed like a standard mage’s core, themed around manipulating the planes locally to get some effect. He could create a pane of extra-planar glass that monsters would fall into. His ability to interface with dungeons was unrivaled. Especially after getting the [Dungeon Engineer’s Core]. But there was a gap in his abilities that seemed rather obvious. It was something both of them had experienced together. When Xol’sa tried to poke his head into a heavenly realm, he was sent reeling.

“Put everything together, and what do you have?” Theo asked. Xol’sa held his theories back, waiting for the alchemist to answer his own question. “We can assume you’re from somewhere other than the heavenly realms. Between them, or somewhere else entirely. Can you make a portal into the void?”

Xol’sa’s eyes darted around the room for a moment, his thoughts gathering. “That’s where I send the monsters.”

A stupid idea entered Theo’s mind, and he entertained it. He wasn’t as skilled as Tresk in manipulating their Tero’gal abilities, but he was certain he could teleport out of the void if he encountered any problems. His Wisdom of the Soul messages agreed. Shadows swirled somewhere nearby and the alchemist groaned. He turned, glaring into a dark corner of the room.

“I was gonna tell you.”

“No, you weren’t!” the shadows objected. “You were going to jump into the void without me. How is that fair?”

“Well, I need an anchor so I can get back. So you can’t come.”

“We both know Alex is the perfect anchor.”

“Compromise. I’ll just stick my head in the void, then come right back out.”

Tresk emerged from the shadows, her arms folded. Theo could feel what she was thinking. She wanted to find the link between Xol’sa and the void as much as him, but held more caution in her heart than him.

“Do I have a say in this?” Xol’sa asked.

“Maybe. Depends on what you have to say,” Tresk grumbled.

“I’ve poked my head in there before. There isn’t much to see. A literal void.”

Tresk let out a low growl-like sound, then a frustrated sigh. “Fine. Open the portal to hell. What could go wrong?”

With a few gestures and words, Xol’sa opened a shimmering rectangle into the void. It hovered in the room’s center, seeming to absorb the surrounding light. Theo rose, approaching the portal for inspection. Tresk approached it from the other side, grunting and humming as though she understood what was going on. The alchemist poked his head inside.

True to Xol’sa’s word, it was an endless void. Darkness that stretched in every direction. Tresk did the same on the other side. While they couldn’t see each other in the infinite darkness, they could feel each other. Two beacons ringing out among the inky blackness like lighthouses on the shore of some turgid sea. They withdrew themselves from the portal at the same time.

“Did you feel that, Theo?” Tresk asked.

“Not sure. Smelled like burnt toast.”

“Maybe your brain was just frying.” Tresk nodded at Xol’sa, who closed the portal. “I felt another will in there. Like someone pushing back against me.”

That was interesting enough on its own. Theo had thought of the void as an empty place. A place where lost souls went when they were trying to get to their realms. The people of this world referred to multiple versions of hell, instead of the singular like on earth. While it might have been an experiential thing the dead went through, he couldn’t shake the feeling of connection. Wisdom of the Soul offered boxes of information he already knew. It couldn’t make the connection yet.

Tresk, Theo, and Xol’sa sat down to share their thoughts on the matter. No one could reach a conclusion that made sense, though. The best they could do was to establish assumptions based on the existence of a willpower present in the void. Who or what it was settled in on the edges of their knowledge. They had just enough information to make the mystery interesting, but not enough to solve it.

But the entire exercise helped Theo understand Fenian’s plans better. Even if he didn’t dive into the void. It helped him understand why he had been set up in this swamp town. He understood why he and Tresk were brought together. The morning was dragging on. If the alchemist didn’t get moving, Salire would find her way to the manor. It was time to get to work.

Theo excused himself from the parlor, leaving behind more questions than answers. Even worse, he had stirred up Xol’sa’s imagination. It was always a bad idea to get a wizard fired up about something. Seeing people out on the street, unbothered by this new mystery, was refreshing. He greeted citizens that passed by. He even spotted Perg for the first time in a while, lurking near her tannery. That woman was up to something, but it would have to wait.

Salire was waiting outside of the Newt and Demon. She was dancing on the spot as he approached, twirling the hem of her newest dress. Dancing wasn’t really something Broken Tuskers did. When they did, it was bad. The Half-Ogre woman was quite good at it, though. Unbidden, a smile spread across the alchemist’s face as he approached. “Why are we so excited today?”

“Read your memos!” Salire said, still dancing. “Why do I give the administration goons reports if you don’t read them?”

Theo cleared his throat awkwardly.

“The new stills are here!”

That was all the reason Theo needed to rush up to the third floor of the building. Salire was close on his heels as they arrived, spotting the rows of new distillation equipment. Even at a distance, he could tell they were different than the last model. There was a blocky flair in their construction that was clearly Dwarven. Thim had a hand in this. There was no doubt.

“Ten stills,” Theo said, walking the rows. “That’s a lot of equipment. And… one of them is already running.”

“Sorry. I mean. I’m not sorry,” Salire giggled. “I finally woke up in the middle of the night. Been working on first tier potions ever since.”

Theo didn’t know how long he expected her recovery to be. But she was in perfect health, now. It reminded him of the time he watched Azrug recover from getting his first cores. That thought sent a pang of guilt running through his chest. The boy had been so busy as a Lord Merchant, he didn’t have time to socialize. The alchemist read his reports in the administration interface. He had even gone over to the new shop to check it out. But they didn’t have the time to sit and talk. It was a shame.

“So, Thim and Throk made some modifications to the design of the stills,” Salire said, standing near the foremost still. She held her hands out as though she were a saleswoman pitching him something fancy to buy. “Improved heating elements. Streamlined capacities. Basic programmable run cycles. And some adapters so we can hook this up directly to the new pipe system. What do you think?”

Theo pressed his hand against one of the inactive stills, inspecting the item.

[Custom Drogramathi Iron Artifice Still]

[Alchemy Equipment]

Epic

Created By: Thimamuri and Throk

A 600 unit capacity Drogramathi Iron still with attached advanced condenser and internal heating element. The advanced condenser allows for a more efficient cooling of essences, decreasing the time needed to distill.The internal heating element provides an even heating of the still, preventing burning.

Effects:

Distillation time reduced.

Occasionally produces more essence.

Reduces the chance of producing low quality essence.

Attachments:

[Custom Drogramathi Iron Bubble Plate]

[Custom Drogramathi Iron Vapor Pressurizer]

[Custom Artifice Timer]

The big changes here were the capacity and the [Custom Artifice Timer]. All the other features were things that Theo had seen in the past. As he inspected the artifice, he saw the changes they had made to the heating element. Throk and Thim’s first attempt at creating an embedded heating element was good, but it had flaws. The key difference was in the controller. It could now heat zones within the still, starting at the bottom and working its way up depending on which zone he selected. That would be useful. Alchemical mashes burned on the bottom. Rarely did the sides burn.

“Very impressive. More impressive that they built ten. Did Throk take a break, or something?” Theo asked.

“He finished a different project. Had some time.”

“What project would that be? Was he helping with the underwater tower?”

“No, I saw him running some pipes outside the walls. He had Sledge help him with getting them under the wall. Something about pumping seawater into town.”

“What the hell does he need seawater for?”

Salire didn’t know. But it only took a few minutes of digging through the endless progress reports of the administrative screen to figure it out. Theo cursed under his breath. Things had gotten so busy that he pushed projects aside to make room for others. When he first saw the [Reagent Deconstruction] ability, the only thing he could think of was breaking things down to their elemental parts. That wasn’t exactly the way the ability worked, but if he tried real hard it just might.

To see Throk swooping in, stealing away the production of salt, hit him hard at first. A momentary flash of anger that gave way to a reasonable mind. Theo should have ordered pumps, boilers, and tubes to process seawater into salt to begin with. The fault rested solely with him, not the enterprising Marshling. This was a direction the alchemist had hoped people would move in. Industries they established on their own would create a flourishing economy. The anger faded as quickly as it came, replaced with a sense of pride.

Salire couldn’t stop talking about alchemical processes. Her new cores opened a world of possibility for her. And she had the best equipment owned by any Drogramath Dronon so far as Theo was aware. He peeled the rind from a [Xotl Orange], setting them on one of the many tables in the room. The scent of the fruit was like the imitation orange drink the alchemist had back on Earth. As his assistant went on, he considered what exactly a Xotl was, and why it would have an orange named after it. He shrugged, popping a slice out of the fist-sized fruit, then into his mouth.

A message popped up.

[Property Discovered]!

Eating the [Xotl Orange] has revealed the property: [Xotl’s Undercurrent]

[Spirit Fruit Consumed]!

You have eaten a portion of a spirit fruit. Your natural dexterity has increased slightly. You may only eat one whole spirit fruit per day.

“Hey!” Salire shouted, falling out of her trance-like state. “Did you eat another spirit fruit? It smells like spirit fruit in here—you should have told me.”

“Want a slice?” Theo asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

That smoothed things over quickly. She took a slice of the orange and took a tentative bite. Her eyes closed as she let out a contented sigh. “Yeah. That’s good. Huh. It says I can’t learn the property.”

“Really? Does the system say anything else?”

“I’m too low.”

“Sad times. Let’s brew a potion. Figure out what this undercurrent property is about.”

There were other things to do within the lab. Salire was desperately trying to create some potions to fill orders, but her skills weren’t there yet. Confined to the lowest tier of alchemy, she had created some interestingly poor quality potions. He never expected to see such horrible potions come out of his lab, but that was to be expected. Only a person with blinders on could look at his past and think those first potions were good. They weren’t good. They were horrible.

The difference between applied alchemy and theoretical alchemy came down to intuition. As expected, with Wisdom being the most important attribute, creating potions was more art than science. Even if they were using exact numbers to bind things together, there was finesse involved. The new stills proved themselves in brewing the spirit fruit’s essence. With isolated heating zones, Theo dialed it in to only heat the bottom layer of the still. The result was an even, low heat that drew out the best parts of the [Xotl Orange].

With so little of the essence available, it wasn’t worth creating a dilution and running the potion again for the next tier. Theo did what he did with his last fruit, settling for a second tier potion. Salire aided him, but only in a support capacity. She grabbed things when he needed them, and took notes on the process. While this process was already well documented, it didn’t hurt for her to get a refresher.

The reaction was immediate and violent. The air extraction system whirred above them as the potion put off a cloud of green smoke that smelled like the sea. Inside the ornate vial was a potion that swirled with a mixture of blues and greens, flecks of silver running through it like ore through stone.

[Xotl’s Undercurrent Potion]

[Potion]

Mythic

Created by: Theo Spencer

Alignment:

Drogramath (Middling Bond)

Grade: Excellent Quality

Drink to create a Xotl’s Undercurrent.

Effect:

The imbiber must be underwater to consume this potion.

For five seconds after consuming this potion, the water directly beneath them will become a vortex that sucks in all surrounding water. Like the mighty deep sea Xotl, everything within range will be pulled within the churn of water.

“This potion kills you,” Salire said, her tone mocking.

She was right, though. Theo stowed the potion in his inventory, intent on destroying it when he had the chance. He created potions like this on occasion. It wasn’t something that would kill mass numbers of people, or spread harm throughout the world. But he couldn’t see someone using this potion while underwater and not killing themselves. That put it in a special category of potions that he would never brew on purpose.

“Excellent. There’s bound to be a few duds until I explore the other properties on the orange. But now, let’s check out the rind.”

Salire rubbed her hands together. “I got a good feeling about this one.”

Chapter 54

Eat It! Eat It! Eat It!

Orange rinds didn’t taste very good. Theo winced as he chewed through the tough exterior of the [Xotl Orange], forcing it down. It refused to go down without a fight. Salire watched nearby, her face tense with eager anticipation. When it finally hit his stomach, the alchemist shivered, then burped.

“Absolutely disgusting,” he said. “How did you convince me to eat it? I should have used [Reagent Deconstruction].”

“I just shouted ‘Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!’ and you did.” Salire clapped her hands together. “Come on. Tell me what the new property is.”

“Well, I’m understanding a few things about these mythical creatures. Assuming a Xotl is a mythical creature. They all enjoy one thing. Dancing.”

The property revealed by eating the rind of the orange was Xotl’s Dance. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where this was going. Each spirit fruit represented some mythical creature. Each of those creatures also represented an element. Dragons for Strength, Xotls for Dexterity, Gorgons for Vigor, Fairies for Wisdom, and Devils for Intelligence. The system had created lines between Demons and Devils, but the alchemist couldn’t figure out if that mattered.

A few customers arrived at the shop downstairs while they brewed a sample potion for the orange rind. Salire was dropping not-so-subtle hints that she wanted a promotion within the shop, and Theo pretended not to notice them. He didn’t know how much money they made offhand. He didn’t even know how much he paid her, and that’s the way he liked it. As long as the coins were flowing, there was no reason to care.

“I won’t promote you for no reason.” Theo fiddled with the new stills, sensing that it was near the end of its cycle. A slow drip of [Refined Xotl’s Dance Essence] was dripping into an open flask. “Just because you have the same cores as me, doesn’t mean you’re some big-shot.”

“Doesn’t it?” Salire asked.

Theo stood, gazing out the window for some time. She was more eager than he was when he first started. A person more deserving of Drogramath’s admiration than him by a long shot. She was harder working and smarter. But the dice fell as they did, and there was nothing he could do about it. “I want you to take it easy. You have certain disadvantages that I didn’t.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you are,” Salire said, holding her hand flat on her head. She swept it out through the air, coming into contact with Theo’s chin. “Less than a head shorter.”

Theo tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t hold it in. “Something I noticed about the system is that there are hidden things. Hidden attributes, hidden statuses… I’m sure I could think of more. No, that’s about all I can think of. Anyway, take willpower for example. I thought it was the representation of someone’s will, based on how their physical brain worked. Turns out, Tresk had overpowered willpower and no one knows why. Not even the gods.”

“So, my willpower is the problem?” Salire asked.

“No. I’m Drogramath’s Champion. Which means he gave me special powers and I don’t know what those are.”

“Well, that just gives us more reason to move me to full-time potion duty.”

“How do you figure?”

Salire withdrew a notebook, holding it up with pride. “Behold. How to be Good at Demon Alchemy and Other Stuff. What better time to doccument the differences between a normal person and a Champion?”

“Is that the name we’re going with for the book?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

Theo shrugged. “Alright. But you’re responsible for paying whoever runs the shop. Take it out of the money you give yourself from the shop.”

Salire blew raspberries. “Jokes on this guy. I don’t pay myself anything!”

Ignoring the statement, Theo turned to the nearest shadow. “Sarisa? Rowan?” An instant later, Sarisa appeared, shaking her head. “Please find someone to run my shop. I prefer Half-Ogres.”

It didn’t pass his notice that Salire blushed at the statement, turning away from the pair to busy herself sorting vials that didn’t need sorting.

“You’re missing a meeting.”

“Anything important?”

“Two controlled monster waves. Today or tomorrow. The containment tower for the ocean is completed, but Xol’sa wants to purge the lingering magical energy in the dungeon. Then he can tame it like he did the [Swamp Dungeon]. I told them you were low on the [Tunneling Potion], so they want to instigate another wave from the [River Dungeon]. The wizard is convinced he can influence what boss spawns.”

“Oh, that’s fun. Maybe I can do some damage during the next wave. Anything else that I should be aware of?”

“We have a small Harlag infestation. Aarok is working with Miana to train wolves to kill the critters.”

“And is that going well?”

“It is.”

“Perfect. Thank you very much, Sarisa. Take your time finding Salire’s replacement.”

“Understood.”

Sarisa vanished into the shadows. Baelthar was an interesting patron for the Half-Ogres. Like Zaul, all the subclasses that the Ogre god created had something to do with hiding. Well, he was the Ogre Patron of the Hunt, so it made sense. But between various cores offered by gods, they usually had very different kits. Luras had a ranged aligned core with Baelthar, and was often hiding before he struck with his bow. It might not be significant, but it certainly was interesting.

Theo picked up his newly brewed [Refined Xotl’s Dance Essence], swirling it in the flask. It moved like the tide, flowing from one side of the glass flask to the other unbidden. A mixture of dark green and pale blues, it was a pretty-looking essence. Salire was already setting up for the reaction, laying out the catalyst, water, and fresh decorative vial.

“Why do you like Half-Ogres so much?” Salire asked as Theo performed the reaction.

The reaction for the essence was less violent than the last. It swirled in the vial, like Theo’s thoughts churning in his head. A plume of green-blue smoke rushed from the top, filling the room with a haze. The extractor fans above them sucked the smoke out. “Marshlings are erratic. I don’t fully trust the Elves. Half-Ogres are honest and hard-working.”

“Well, I’m partial to Dronon myself.”

Theo gave her a sidelong glance. “No, you’re not. If you’re talking about me, I just have the shell of a dead Dronon. Although… the Dronon souls in my realm are all rather nice. Maybe I like the Dronon, too. Come to think of it, I’ve never been let down by a Toora. The bear-folk always have tea. And they’re great at baking. Have you tried a Toora god’s scones?”

“Why would I have tried a god’s scones?”

Theo withdrew one of Benton’s legendary confections from his inventory. He handed it over to Salire as he inspected the new potion. She took a small bite, let out a squeal of glee, then turned her attention to the potion while munching.

[Xotl’s Dance Potion]

[Potion]

Legendary

Created by: Theo Spencer

Alignment:

Drogramath (Middling Bond)

Grade: Excellent Quality

Drink to create a Xotl’s Dance.

Effect:

The imbiber of this potion creates a shroud of water around themselves. Like the Xotl gracing the depths, this field repels all water based on the potion’s strength. Any creating entering the bubble of air will be hit with an instance of [Xotl’s Dance], inflicting damage and reducing their movement speed.

“That is a weird potion,” Salire said through a mouthful of scone.

This potion wasn’t dangerous. At least there was that. Theo’s mind stretched itself, trying to see how the potion would be useful for their underwater projects. But the problem with the potions derived from spirit fruits was one of volume. In his mind, he labeled this as ‘emergency potion for if I fall into water and still can drink a potion’. It was a very specific use-case.

It would be wise to spend an entire day discovering the various effects of the spirit fruit, but Theo had other things on his mind. He stowed away the newest potion, waiting for Salire to finish her scone before going into lecture mode. Grinding low-rank potions was fine, but if she wanted to have a fun time leveling between 10 and 20, she needed to understand how her mana worked. Looking back on it, the alchemist now realized why his low-level mana was so potent. It wasn’t the mana of a normal Drogramathi Alchemist, it was the mana of a Drogramathi Champion.

Perhaps these facts would give the young Half-Ogre an easier time with the progression, but it was still a labor. He wrote out a series of instructions for her to follow, then went through the cycles a few times. She had a hard time with it, but that was expected. The difference between them was that she was getting a head start on the matter. She wouldn’t need to struggle through it as much. Or so he hoped.

This was the perfect time for a break. Theo left the lab in Salire’s capable hands, then wandered the streets of Broken Tusk. He stopped by Whisper’s butcher first, finding one of his administrators ordering some sausages. Gwynestarea had been an intelligent member of the team from the start. As a Half-Elf from Veosta, she knew the meaning of working in an environment with many cultures.

“How’s it going, Whisper?”

“Very well,” Whisper said, gesturing to the air conditioner blasting ice-cold air. “Perfectly cold.”

Theo nodded with approval. “How about you, Gwyn?”

“Busy. As always. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been using your private bath.”

“Yeah, that’s cool.”

The alchemist lingered for a while, ordering whatever Whisper recommended. She had apparently become known for her spicy sausages. That was an unexpected turn of events, as Theo only viewed her as a base-level production asset. He never expected her to venture out on her own to make her own food. Once again, he was reminded that the peoples of Broken Tusk were inventive. He departed with a string of sausages after paying Whisper. Gwyn went her own way, off to the administration building, no doubt.

There were plenty of things for Theo to do. Even with that in mind, he returned to his manor with a string of sausages in hand. The faint buzz of activity echoed throughout the open spaces of the places, and he found his way to the kitchen. Fenian was talking with someone in one of the many drawing rooms, and someone else’s voices carried from somewhere more distant. Sarisa and Rowan had the kitchen fully stocked with food and cookware. A small stove, operated by an artifice flame, rested near a shallow bay window.

From the window, Theo could see the garden outside. Bilgrob was sitting in the garden, cross-legged with his eyes closed. The faint swirl of magical energies tinged the air, even from behind the window. He found a seasoned iron pan, placed it on the fire and fried up some sausages. The kitchen was immediately filled with sizzling, popping grease from the meat. An aroma like chorizo filled the area, drawing the attention of the other inhabitants of the manor.

“Cooking?” Fenian asked, wheeling himself into view.

Fenian had recovered from his wounds. Theo could see the spot where the new arm and leg had grown in, as they were far paler than the rest of his body. “Just felt like having something. You know?”

“I always feel like a sausage.”

“So, your plan. For me,” Theo said, pushing the sausages around in the pan. “Which realm do you need me to take you to?”

Fenian clapped his hands together. He winced, shaking his new arm as though the act was painful. His countenance recovered immediately. “Balkor’s realm. I thought you would have figured that one out by now.”

Theo flipped the sausages. They were burning on one side, while the other was mostly untouched. He adjusted the heat on the artifice, then removed the pan from the heat. “A dead realm, huh? You’re going to lure Karasan there. Then what?”

“Ah, that’s one of those spoilers, isn’t it?”

While he understood more about the realms every day, that was still outside of his reach. Logically, Fenian would want to trap Karasan somewhere that he couldn’t get away. From the stories the alchemist heard, they weren’t evenly matched. The Elf would win in a one-on-one. But the King of Qavell was slippery, falling through the various realms and the void to get away. He returned the sausages to the heat as he considered the implications.

“What are the chances you survive?” Theo asked.

“At least fifty percent.”

“Are you planning on resurrecting Balkor?”

“I hadn’t considered it, but that’s not a bad idea. How do you resurrect a god, exactly?”

Theo gave Fenian a flat look. While he always wanted to be annoyed with the Elven trader, there was a charm with his coyness. This little dance they did where the trader pretended that neither of them knew a damn thing about any of this. Yeah, his plan was likely to resurrect Balkor‌. It wasn’t a true resurrection. If what he had heard was true, gods didn’t truly die.

“I imagine bringing a powerful soul to his realm might work,” Theo said, removing the sausages and placing them on a large plate. “Of course, that soul must be willing to join the realm.”

“Must it?” Fenian asked. He winked. “I must have missed that detail. May I have one?”

Theo skewered one sausage with a fork, then handed it to Fenian. He grabbed one for himself, taking a tentative bite. It was hot in both flavor and temperature, forcing the alchemist to second-guess his decision. But the flavor was there. Good spice meant good seasoning, and Whisper had done an excellent job.

“They’re quite good,” Fenian said, fanning his mouth. “A bit too spicy for my taste.”

“So, you need a ride to Balkor’s realm. But you can already travel over the Bridge, right?” Theo asked. “But when you leave the bridge through your pact with Uz’Xulven, you’re violating the rules of the heavenly realms. But if I break the rules, what happens?”

“That’s for the Arbiter to decide.”

“That’s devious.”

“Indeed.”

“Will Karasan go for the bait?”

“He will.”

When Fenian was certain about something, that was the end of the conversation. They found their way to a sitting room on the first floor. It gave them a lovely view of the street outside. The people passing by. People that didn’t know they were conspiring to topple a kingdom—although what there was left of that kingdom was anyone’s guess. While the Elf claimed to dislike the spicy sausages, he helped himself to more.

“When you assume the throne, what changes?” Theo asked.

“Well, the thrones were always meant to be a means of regulation. A way for the best of the best in any realm to assume a seat of power outside the machinations of the masses. A system atop a system with someone at the helm.”

“That’s what Yuri did, right? He changed the way the heavens work.”

“Yes, but the thrones are connected. You see, Karasan is part of a group that believes the system is fine as it is. Do you agree with him?”

“I don’t have a say in that.” Theo paused for a moment, watching as a couple passed by on the street. It was hot out there. Sweltering, even. They held hands, pushing themselves close to each other as though it were a cold winter’s day. “Whatever my purpose here is, it's not to judge.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Theo shrugged in response. “I don’t think Karasan was running his kingdom well, but who am I to say? I’m not the judge that gets to condemn countless thousands to death.”

“Are they really dying, though?”

That was a discussion they had already had. Theo had no desire to retread old ground, let alone entertaining the idea of who was more worthy of genocide. It was an old song and dance he’d seen too many times on Earth. Maybe that meant he was numb to the entire process, making him the worst judge in this case. With Yuri calling the shots from his heavenly realm, that made things worse. But the fact was, Broken Tusk and the Southlands Alliance was in too deep and there was no point in pulling out.

But a Wisdom of the Soul message popped up that caught Theo’s attention. It was something that would have entered his intuition before, but he should have caught it on his own. Fenian was hiding something, that was obvious. But so was Karasan. The message claimed that the extreme measures the Elf was going through could only mean there was an equal measure on the other side of the coin.

Ignoring Fenian’s last statement, Theo said, “What is Karasan hiding? What sins is he carrying?”

Fenian smiled around a sausage, breaking it off then chewing for a moment. “Something I’m sworn not to tell. I’m not being slick with this one, Theo. I’m bound to secrecy. If this gambit fails, then eons of planning goes up in a puff of smoke. Just like that. Gone.”

“Message received,” Theo chuckled. This reminded him too much of the Berlin job. “I need time to practice, though. I interdicted myself into a lower realm, but the high heavens are far.”

“As long as you know the mission, I can wait.”

They ate the entire string of sausages together, sweating and discussing how much trade had changed. Fenian had been out of it for a long time by now, but his understanding of trade wasn’t limited by his condition. He had contacts around the world, feeding him price changes and trade route blockages. Their continent wasn’t as important as the others. Slagrot, the home of the ogres, had been completely unaffected by the undead. Tarantham, Partopour, and Bantein felt the reverberations of the undead but nothing terrible.

This world was built on the idea of construction and destruction. An endless cycle that the inhabitants became all too used to. That was the concept Fenian and Khahar wanted to destroy. No matter the cost, it was worth it. So long as Broken Tusk never came to harm.