The Newt and Demon - Book 5 Chapters 4,5,6 (Patreon)

Chapter 4

Tero’gal’s Sea

Rows of mycology caves stretched in every direction. Theo stood, tapping his foot on the hard-packed ground, staring at the dream-like creation. After he got the idea to spread his alchemy to the world, he realized they wouldn’t be able to produce industrial quantities of the mixture. He had spent most of the Dreamwalk working on a way to dumb it down, but that brought challenges. The alchemist let out a steady breath, then pushed off against one cave’s entrance.

Casting his eyes to the sky, he saw Tresk and Alex doing battle with a dragon. A real dragon, this time. She had always been a dreamer. She came up with interesting things in the Dreamwalk without ever having seen it. Now that she had laid eyes on a dragon, she could reproduce it here without issue. Theo fell into an instinctive crouch when the earth beneath his feet rumbled. A shiver ran across the mirror realm.

“What was that?” Theo muttered to himself. The words carried to the sky, to Tresk’s ears. She appeared beside him.

“Woah! Can you feel that?” she asked, closing her eyes to focus.

Theo felt the little marshling’s senses spread out over the imaginary landscape. Her thoughts slipped through the cracks in the dream, then out into the wider realms. After a moment, her eyes snapped open.

“Something happened in the realms. Just felt like a… a… Pop! Then nothing.”

The alchemist’s mind couldn’t rest on that idea for long. It wandered almost immediately, falling back to his problem. Drogramath’s form of alchemy was known to the unaligned alchemists of the world. They could eventually gain access to distillation, but it was considered a high-level skill. Almost ascendant. At Level 50, someone with an [Alchemist’s Core] gained access to the skills required to distill essences. Before that, they created salves and poultices to help people. Theo could make those things. But he had never tried.

“We’ll see what that was when we get back,” Tresk said, patting Theo’s shoulder reassuringly. “No need to worry, my precious.”

“Hmm? Oh, right. No, we expected that. It just means that Fenian is alive. He must be working with Khahar to rearrange the realms.”

When the Dreamwalk ended, Theo found himself in a listless state. He wandered down to the dining room, so lost in thought that he didn’t greet those that greeted him. The alchemist left the manor with a plate of food. Sarisa and Rowan both trailed him at a distance, ever dutiful.

“I need your help,” Theo said, patting Salire on the shoulder. She stiffed for a moment, then nodded and followed him to the third floor of the Newt and Demon.

“Okay. I’m not sure I can really help.”

“Are those traders still in town?” Theo removed a [Swamp Truffle] from a storage crate and set it on a table.

“Yeah.”

“Perfect,” Theo pulled the hood up on his coat, suppressing a sigh as the comforting effects washed over him. “We have a problem. We’re both Drogramathi Alchemists.”

“How is that a problem?”

“Because I’d bet Partopour doesn’t have the facilities to make enough essence to defend themselves. We have to dumb ourselves down and figure out how the normies perform alchemy.”

“Oh!” Salire bounced across the room, withdrawing an old book from the shelf. “Gromdrath’s Introduction to Alchemy is a good read.”

She had spent a lot of time thumbing through basic alchemy books over the years. It was a hidden aspiration of hers, but one that was difficult to achieve. Even the standard form of alchemy was dangerous to perform, limiting practitioners to those who could afford apprenticeships. The book she had placed on the table was much like the others he had read. Unlike Drogramathi Alchemy, each method of creation was well-documented.

“Each reagent can be processed three different ways. But what those ways are depends on which property you want to extract. Every reagent is different. So while pickling might work to extract the first property of a [Spiny Swamp Thistle Root], but would reveal the third property on a [Manashroom]. It’s all random!”

“Write a list of the processing methods. Let’s get to work.”

Standard alchemy was smelly, boring work. Theo and Salire busted their butts for most of the day to try every manner of property extraction on the [Swamp Truffle]. Pickling, blanching, roasting, toasting… the list went on. It only got worse when the standard methods failed, and they began combining effects. In the middle of the afternoon, they unlocked the secret. The truffles needed to be brined in seawater, then roasted over a wood fire.

Salire was masterful in her preparation of the poultice. Not that there was much to do. She smashed the mushroom up, then added a catalyzing agent. What was left was a blackened paste that smelled like week-old unwashed feet. Theo pinched his nose, leaning in to inspect his apprentice’s creation.

[Hallow Weapon Coating]

[Weapon Coating]

Common

Created by: Salire Hogrush

Grade: Poor Quality

Coat your weapon with the [Hallow Ground] effect. Enemies struck with that weapon will experience the effects of [Hallow Ground].

“There it is,” Theo said, nodding with approval. “Not as good as the essence-based potions, but what do you want? Sarisa, could you prepare a few crates of my cultivated [Swamp Truffles]?”

The half-ogre woman appeared from nowhere. She bowed, then nodded. “How much?”

“Half the stock out back. Thank you.”

Salire was bubbling with excitement. She turned to the alchemist, clapping her hands and giggling. “This is big, right?”

“World-changing‌,” Theo said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “Write the recipe down, and deliver it to Miltar.”

After Salire took off, Theo was left with his thoughts. He could never remember that other nations didn’t have access to Drogramathi Alchemy. The undead were a world-level threat, weren’t they. He ground the heel of his foot into the ground, unsure of his own logic. Without an understanding of Balkor’s motives, it was impossible to know. Was he heading to Tarantham to get revenge on the elves? That was a motive, if one assumed he was cast down by Glantheir without a plan. If the demon god let himself be defeated, as might be the case, then revenge made little sense. So why head west? Something could be hidden in Veosta. Or the mountains that cut through the center of the continent.

Theo let out a frustrated breath, then dismissed the matter. He sent a quick mental message to Tresk, then fell through the realms. Uz’Xulven didn’t beckon him this time. He flew over the Bridge, then pierced the veil into Tero’gal. The scent of fires burning, and the sound of people cheering and dancing hit him first. He felt Belgar’s hand on his shoulder before his other senses came to him. A smile was on the spirit’s face.

“Welcome back. Did you see the news?”

“I haven’t. What’s going on?”

The people celebrating in the distance only grew louder. They had gathered in their little village, and were dancing around a large bonfire. Theo spotted a few wayward souls waiting for approval near the bubbling creek, but he turned his attention to Belgar.

“Khahar made a move. We got a system message that claimed the time scales of all heavenly realms were now standardized.”

“Oh. Really?”

“Yep. They’re bracketed now. Low realms like ours have five minutes on the mortal realm to twenty-four hours here. The rate is different as you go up, but the message didn’t tell us.”

That was a nerf for Tero’gal. Theo was excited to see how much time dilation they could take advantage of. But the universe didn’t revolve around him. This was likely a move to level the playing field in the high heavens. Belgar was silent as the alchemist moved to accept the new souls into the realm. He did so idly, hardly noticing as the realm leveled. He blinked away the messages, planning to decide on his upgrade later.

“How are things? Other than the time standardization?”

“Good,” Belgar said with a shrug. “I’m close to achieving a solid form.”

“You’re looking better every day.”

“Every year for me,” Belgar laughed, punching Theo in the arm. “Are you going to select an upgrade?”

Theo turned his attention back to the system notification. He already had a lot of upgrades for the realm. None of which he actually used. It was a weird thing where he didn’t spend all his time here. He didn’t understand what most of them did, but the most interesting one was [Landscape Manipulation]. Combined with [Harvesting Array], he could change the realm to look like whatever he wanted. Yet he hadn’t. The alchemist had watched the realm develop organically, and had little desire to interfere. Well, there was one thing he wanted…

“Upgrades,” Theo said, nodding. “Right. I’ve got a fun one.”

[Simulated Reality]

Your realm will better simulate the mortal realm. It will now experience a day-night cycle, weather, and realistic fauna patterns.

Something that had bothered Theo since he gained the realm was the lack of reality. It was somewhere between the Dreamwalk, and the mortal plane. Night, rain, and some critters would help make it feel more like home. Belgar nodded with approval.

“Come with me,” Theo said, gesturing vaguely to the west. “I’ve always wanted something in this realm.”

Belgar followed close behind. They passed through the sprawling forest, then through a deep valley before coming to the rolling hills that rested below a mountain range. It was all random landscape that was generated from… something. Theo had theorized that most gods took the [Landscape Manipulation] skill immediately, then formed their realm based on what they wanted. There was something missing from Tero’gal that Theo had wanted from the start. A wide ocean with a protected bay.

“No idea how this upgrade works,” Theo said. But as soon as he said it, he thought about the upgrade. An interface appeared.

The landscaping interface was detailed. He could paint the terrain manually, or plop pre-made things down anywhere he wanted. The alchemist quickly selected the ocean painting tool, then nearly fell over. When he selected the tool, his vision was ripped from his eyeballs. It soared high into the sky, providing him with a zoomed-out view of the landscape. He felt Belgar’s hands steadying him, and the worried words that came with it.

“I’m looking at the realm from above,” Theo said, trying not to fall over. “This is the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“You good?”

Theo dragged the brush across the land. Now it was Belgar’s turn to almost fall over. The land under their feet rumbled. Where there was once rolling hills, there was now a roughly dragged section of sea. Salty air filled the alchemist’s nostrils shortly after, and he continued to paint. With each stroke of his brush, the realm’s energy depleted. By the time he ran out of power, he had painted a sea below the mountain. It stretched almost as far as they could see, curving along the horizon. A sheet of clear water, almost exaggerated by how blue it was, glittered into the distance.

“Ah,” Theo said, exiting the interface and falling onto his butt. “How do you like my ocean?”

Belgar laughed, a worried expression painted on his ghostly face. “I like it. Don’t do that again. Not while I’m around.”

“Come on,” Theo beckoned, heading down the slope to the shore. He had even painted a sandy beach on this side of the sea. The far side remained rocky. The alchemist popped off his boots and sunk his feet into the sand. Waves lapped against his ankles, bringing with it a perfectly cooled sensation that radiated upward.

“Think there’s gonna be fish?” Belgar asked.

“I hope so. As long as the [Simulated Reality] upgrade does its job.”

The spirits of the realm had felt the rumbling and were gathering near the beach. Once they spotted the sandy shores, they ran down in droves. Theo watched as his people crashed against waves, swimming out and splashing around as though they were children. That gave him enough time to inspect the realm.

[Tero’Gal]

Mortal Dreamrealm

Owners: Theo Spencer, Tresk

Faction: Unaffiliated

Level: 30

Souls: 120

Expansions:

[Harvesting Array]

[Defensive Towers]

[Landscape Manipulation]

[Guardians of Faith]

[Bubble]

[Simulated Reality]

Pending Requests: 0

Wisdom of the Soul told him it would be harder to upgrade the realm after this. He would need more souls per level if they wanted to grow its strength. The souls of the realm were talking about making rafts to take out onto the water. Others were excited that there might be fish, or wild game they could hunt. Theo could twist this realm to be whatever he wanted. It could be a factory world where he produced obscene amounts of potion. It could be a massive forge that made weapons day after day. But this place was a slice of heaven. A comfy, wild place that seemed to stretch on forever.

At some point, Benton’s icy archway opened up. Where Theo expected only the toora to step through, another man came. He was a balding, stocky human with a worn-out tunic and bare feet. He held on his face a look of reservation.

“Theo!” Benton shouted, dusting the snow from his shoulders. “I brought a friend!”

“Hello,” Theo said, waving stupidly.

“Hi,” the man said. His voice was gruff.

“This is Ed. He’s the Human God of Tedding.”

“Of what?”

Ed groaned. “Is everyone going to ask me what I stand for? Tedding. That’s where you take material and spread it out into a field.”

“That’s horribly specific,” Theo said. “Anyway, wanna play in the water?”

“Uh, yeah?” Benton asked, scoffing. “Must be nice that you get to work in a temperate climate. I’m still stuck in eternal snow.”

Ed wasn’t a man of many words. He was happy to soak his feet in the water, and watch all the souls play, but he wouldn’t take part. Benton explained he was a brand new god, originally from Bantein. The guy had leveled a [Farmer’s Core] to 100… somehow. After a betrayal from his family, he had enough with the mortal world and ascended. That was apparently a popular thing to do, especially with the undead remaining a threat. Most people who could ascend would.

Theo and Benton returned to the town, sitting down for tea in the cottage. After they had exchanged stories for a while, something curious happened. A small mote of light appeared on the table. It pulsed with energy, but did nothing else.

“What’s that?” Theo asked, leaning in. He poked it, but his finger just passed through.

“Not sure I’ve ever seen something like that. Not in my realm.”

The orb pulsed some more, bringing with it garbled language that neither man could understand. They just drank their tea, ate scones, and watched the orb try and form something like words. But nothing came. Theo told his bear friend about his brush with normal alchemy, and how boring it was.

“Not everything is easy,” Benton said with a chuckle. “Oh, look. The words are getting clearer.”

“Theo… help,” the orb said.

“Hello?” Theo asked, leaning close to the orb. “You have the wrong number!”

“Stuck… moon… help…”

“Stuck on the moon?” Benton asked. “Someone is stuck on the moon? Can you even get to the moon?”

“Ah, crap. I know who that orb belongs to.” Theo drummed his fingers on the table. “That’s Sulvan Flametouched. Grand Inquisitor of the Burning Eye.”

“Huh. Grand Inquisitor of squat. Seeing as the eye is dead.”

“Dead-ish, but yeah. Sulvan. Can you hear me? Go screw yourself!”

Benton chuckled.

“Accept… realm…” the orb said.

“Accept my butt!” Theo and Benton cackled, swatting at the orb. But it didn’t go away. “Ah, whatever. Khahar? Yuri? Can you hear me? What should I do about this orb? Can you arbitrate this for me?”

A quick snap, then Khahar appeared in the cottage. He had a deck of cards in his hands, but cast a confused look at the orb. “That’s against the rules,” he said, gesturing at the orb. He swatted his hand through the air, then the orb vanished.

“Are you here to beat our asses at poker? Again?” Benton asked.

“Yes.”

Khahar delt, then poured himself a cup of tea. He won the first few rounds, but Theo finally won on a lucky hand.

“Sulvan and Uharis were meant to stay on the moon forever,” Khahar said, dealing another hand. “I guess they’re like cats without claws, though. I’ve been rejecting their petitions for ascendancy for a while.”

Theo chuckled. “That’s so petty. I love it.”

“You could interdict them to your realm, if you wanted to.”

“Why would I do that?”

Khahar shrugged. He finished dealing the cards out.

Was there any merit to accepting either man into his realm? Were they trying to be trouble-makers, or had they actually learned their lesson? There was value in bringing them here, but only because Theo’s command of the realm was absolute. He could cast almost anyone out at a moment’s notice, sending them to their home realms or the void. The only person he couldn’t toss out was Khahar, but that wasn’t surprising.

“Do you think they could atone, Yuri?” Theo asked.

“I think so.”

“Why are you rejecting their petition for ascension, then?”

“Because godhood wouldn’t give them the chance to atone. I have a feeling that another being is meddling with my plans, though.”

“Huh.”

This was something Theo would discuss with Tresk before he decided. Perhaps a few declawed cats were exactly what they needed.

Chapter 5

Riding the Maglev

Theo stood on the shore of Tero’gal’s ocean. He looked out over the sea, smiling to himself. Creating a version of his realm in the Dreamwalk always felt like a vain thing to do. But the sea he had made was a beautiful, pristine thing. Unlike the real-world version sitting outside Broken Tusk, the waters were clear and cool. The bay in the mortal realm was filled with sea muck, and was often murky from the flow of the sea into the bay.

Tresk was somewhere nearby. She had taken the news of Uharis and Sulvan poorly, and was currently killing dream-versions of those people. Alex hadn’t helped the matter, claiming she would poke their eyes out with her little clawed toes. If someone was messing with Khahar’s plans, it was best if Theo took control of those people. Or maybe they were just that desperate.

The Dreamwalk ended, depositing Theo in his comfortable bed. He remained there for some time, looking up at the ceiling long after Tresk had departed. When the scent of the food from below became too much for him to resist, he removed himself and put on his coat. The effect of the magical clothing was doubled within the manor, making it almost impossible to leave without feeling some discomfort. The dining room table was stacked with delicious food. Xam outdid herself more as the days rolled on.

Tresk had a few meetings with the Aarok and his staff today. Alex had become an important early-warning system for the town, thanks to her flight ability. She was also fooling around with her nature affinity, working with the farmers to grow crops faster. Theo had a meeting with Throk today, which was exciting. The artificer needed go-ahead on the tram project. The only thing in the notes was ‘MEET ME. MY SHOP,’ a message penned by the marshling himself.

Theo bid farewell to his friends before heading off to the Newt and Demon. He worked with Salire to get the stills in order for the day. They had started mass-production of their new potion, but the batch they were running today would be the first third tier version of the [Hallow the Soil] potion, likely making it a [Greater Hallow the Soil] potion. The alchemist had already planted and upgraded his third mushroom cave, planting the [Dragon Talon Mushroom] for cultivation.

After getting ten Drogramathi Iron stills running, Theo headed off. He passed by a few people, who seemed excited for the upcoming celebration. Of course they knew about it, even if the event wasn’t officially announced. No one could keep a secret in Broken Tusk, and he couldn’t blame them. Once the maglev was operational, there would be little need to distinguish between the towns.

Throk was outside of his workshop, hands on his hips. “About time!”

“Busy as always, Throk. What do you have for me?”

“Well, do you remember that upgrade you gave to sweet, precious, darling Nira?”

“All right… I remember.”

“Alloys, right? Well, we got to do some experimenting. That girl is a genius. Far smarter than you, and better looking.”

Theo nodded. “We’re getting to a point, I’m certain of it.”

“Yeah. She made me an alloy. Drogramathi Iron and Tworgnothi Copper.”

Theo paused for a moment to think. Copper didn’t alloy with iron. Copper wouldn’t even weld to iron, so that made no sense. He shook his head, clearing away his old Earth logic. Both Tworgnothi Copper and Drogramathi Iron were magically infused metals. They didn’t follow logic.

“Interesting,” Theo said. “I’m guessing the alloy has properties that are useful to us.”

“Check it out yourself,” Throk said, holding out a bar. The ingot of metal alloy had bands of purple-black running through bright orange. The alchemist inspected it.

[Azrugium Ingot]

[Metal Ingot]

Legendary

Quality: Excellent

An Azrugium ingot.

Theo gave the marshling a flat look. “Did you let Azrug name this?”

“How could you tell? Anyway, feel the weight. Lighter than either Drogramathi Iron or Tworgnothi Copper. And stronger than both.” Throk was far more animated than normal. And he was waiting for the big reveal. The marshling edged closer to the double-doors of his workshop. “Wanna see?”

“You already made something? Are you serious?”

“Behold!” Throk shouted, yanking on one door. It swung open, revealing the train car within.

The entire car was made with the Azrugium. Theo shuddered as he thought of the alloy’s name, but was so dumbstruck by the quality of the car he almost pushed it out of his mind. The entire thing was made from the metal. It was far more sleek than he expected, and even had glass windows near the front to prevent a field of bugs from entering the passenger’s mouths. It could seat ten, with five on either side. Even the artifice work was completed, tucked up in the undercarriage.

Theo approached the tram car, running his fingers along the angles. He grabbed it, and lifted it with almost no effort. “This thing is light, Throk. Damn, how do you do it?”

“Heh heh heh,” Throk said, hands on his hips. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever made. We worked on the shape for a while. Squeezed more speed out of it than expected. I even bribed Ziz and his guys to create a return track for the maglev. As you might imagine, I’ll be running more than one train.”

“Astounding. It really is, Throk. I never imagined I’d see something so impressive. Have you run it, yet?”

“Yeah, we’ve been doing test runs. Had to replace some old track with the Azrugium. One thing we’re missing is conductors.”

Near the front of the train car was a single seat for the operator. That would require training, but even Theo recognized how easy the controls were. In the undercarriage, Throk had created a webwork of artifices. He explained what they did, which was even more impressive. There were speed regulators, power sensors, and even a simple monster detector. While there were no counter-measures, those could be added later. Not that there was a monster alive who could catch up to this beast.

“Both the train and the track need power. Motes, of course. I’ve finally perfected my mote delivery system. We just need to feed the hopper in Broken Tusk, and the entire track will be powered. If the tram senses that any track in the line is without power, it will stop. Boom. Done. Safety.”

“We’re paying you for this, right?”

“You’re paying me a fortune. But I’m not in it for the money. I’m in it for speed!”

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get it out on the track.”

“Already got one ready for you. Let’s go.”

Theo followed Throk outside of the workshop. Over the eastern road, and through the eastern gate. Alongside the road that Ziz and his guys built was now a raised track. It was roughly the height of the alchemist, supported by tall white marble pillars. At the track’s end, on the Broken Tusk side. Was a small station. Alongside the track itself was another track. The return line. Both tracks connected together, allowing someone to ride from one end to the other without turning around.

“Let’s go,” Throk said, grumbling as he ascended the stairs into the station. A cart was waiting for them.

Theo entered the train car, finding a seat and buckling himself in. He cinched the leather straps over his shoulders, then rocked back and forth. The maglev artifices effectively glued the train to the track, making it impossible to rock the car.

“Ready,” Theo said, holding onto the straps.

“Alright. I’ve got a route programmed so my conductors only need to press this button,” Throk said, gesturing to a single red button. “It runs through all the safety crap, then follows a course. At each checkpoint—checkpoints are the power-generating sections of the track—it runs another safety check. Let’s go!”

The train eased out of the station, sliding over the track with no friction at all. The ride was absurdly smooth, but they pulled out at roughly walking speed. People below waved as they eased over the river, then took a bend. The train increased to running speed as they took a corner. Even at that low speed, Theo felt his stomach bottom out as they turned. The train leveled out, aiming directly north along the road.

“From here,” Throk said, turning and shouting back at Theo. “It’s a straight shot to Rivers. How long do you think it’ll take?”

Azrug’s ‘roided out karatan could make the trip in about an hour. “An hour?”

“Heh heh heh. Better hold onto something.”

Once the track had cleared the first hill, it sped up. It hit the pace of a normal karatan quickly, then kept speeding up. Once it reached the speed of Azrug’s karatan, Theo was certain they were going as fast as possible. The wind whipped against the cart, but it didn’t budge to either side. It flew straight as an arrow, even after Theo was certain he would release the contents of his stomach on the newly created car. Then it doubled the speed of the karatan. Tripled. Quadrupled. The world outside the train rushed by in a blur of sound and color. The alchemist’s nails dug into the leather straps as he grit his teeth.

Throk only shouted excitedly, holding his hands over his head as though they were riding a roller coaster. Only fifteen minutes passed before the cart slowed down, pulling into the Rivers station. Theo’s eyes were dry, and his voice hoarse from the constant yelling.

“Holy hell,” Theo said, drawing ragged breaths. “Are you kidding?”

“We ain’t done!” Throk shouted, slamming his fist on the button again.

The train took off again, gaining a chorus of surprised shouts from the citizens of Rivers below. Within thirty minutes, Theo had traveled from Broken Tusk to Gronro-Dir. He exited the tram wide-eyed, his heart pounding. He stumbled down the platform, looking at the town of his allies for the first time. The alchemist had only ever visited Gronro in the Dreamwalk. It was a fortress set between two massive mountains. The defenders on the walls waved down, cheering. Throk was pumping his fist in the air, cheering himself on.

“That was amazing,” Theo said, digging his finger into his ear. “Perhaps we could have windows on all the openings.”

“Nah. Too heavy. Deal with it.”

Azrugium was truly amazing. Throk had juiced so much speed out of the train that it was unbelievable.

“Welcome to Gronro, Archduke Theo Spencer,” a voice called from the battlements.

Theo looked up to spot Grotgrog Stormfist, cheering with his men along the wall. It seemed impolite not to drop in. He was already here. “Hello! We’re testing the train!” he shouted back.

“Come in for a drink, won’t ya? This calls for celebration!”

“Oh, don’t mind if I do,” Throk muttered. For all his bravado, when the marshling approached the gates of Gronro, he did so on wobbling legs.

Gronro was a town dominated by dwarves, humans, and half-ogres. When the gate swung open, the sound of cheering was almost as deafening as the whistling wind on the train. Theo had a mug of foul-smelling ale in his hands before he could object. Grot pulled him into a hug, then punched him in the ribs and kicked his shins. That was apparently a proper dwarven way to greet someone.

There was a foul miasma that hung over the town. Theo felt his stomach turn, and it only got worse as the celebration moved closer to the northern battlements, closer to the place the locals called ‘the scar.’ Theo ascended the northern wall with Throk and Grot. The group looked down at the destruction below, just over the stone bridge resting over the ravine.

The land outside of Gronro was tainted. Compared to the soil sample he had been delivered, Theo couldn’t stomach the endless sprawl of befouled earth. It pulsed with Balkor’s wretched power. No plant life survived the tainted energy. The alchemist truly understood how important it was that they healed the land. Glantheir certainly wasn’t doing anything about it. So it fell to the mortals.

But the foul air didn’t affect the dwarves the same way. Grot claimed it had something to do with their ancestry, tracing back to their underground homes. Better for them, but that didn’t stop Theo’s mind from prioritizing this problem. By the time he was ready to leave, several members of the town wanted to ride down to Broken Tusk. Even if a return journey wouldn’t be available.

The dwarves that joined Theo and Throk on the train screamed with excitement the entire time. They blew past the Rivers station and headed directly for Broken Tusk. The alchemist almost couldn’t handle the shock of traveling such a great distance in such a short time, but he was impressed. This would change the alliance forever. And Grot was quite happy that he had already found a solution.

Theo stumbled out from the train, nearly falling over as he descended to ground-level. He wanted to kiss the solid earth. To roll in the mud and never ride the damned train again. But it was just too good not to use. And if they got one of those running all the way to the lizard islands? Yeah, they would be in business for sure.

“So, what do you think?” Throk asked.

“I think you’ve just changed the world,” Theo said, patting the marshling on the back. “Our little corner of the world, at least.”

Throk smiled widely. “Happy to help.”

Theo drifted to one side as he walked away from the station. He wondered if the people in town would welcome the rail with open arms. They certainly were excited, all crowded around the area. But they hadn’t ridden it yet. Once they had a taste of the speeds that thing could do, they might change their tune. Broken Tuskers were surprising, though. The crowd that lingered all wanted a ride, but Throk wouldn’t start operations today.

Riding the maglev had counted as Theo’s meeting, but he had to get into it with Alise and her gang. He found his way to the town hall, then the massive conference room where she waited with Gael and Gwyn. They started by updating him on the massive profit they made trading with Partopour. Broken Tusk was gaining attention on the world’s stage, but perhaps not for the right reasons. Instead of recognizing merit, the other nations were amused at the way they had survived disaster. Since disaster was a part of life on this planet, it had been viewed as hilarious instead of heroic.

“Salire reported you shared an anti-undead recipe,” Alise said, sifting through piles of notes. “Are we really worried about the undead crossing the sea?”

“I won’t present it as a guarantee.” Something had been tingling in the back of Theo’s mind. Balkor’s hidden plan. “But I’m almost certain that Fenian survived his encounter. Which means I can’t be certain what Balkor is planning.”

“Does it matter?” Gael asked. “Isn’t he bound to the heavenly realms?”

“Maybe.” Theo picked at his teeth, trying to think of anything but Balkor. His mind flung back to the beach in Tero’gal. He should have told the souls to build a little beach house there. Maybe an outside bar… The alchemist shook his head, breaking those thoughts away. “He might not be. Could be that he’s commanding the undead from the high heavens.”

“None of our concern right now,” Gwyn said, nodding. Her face was set in a firm expression, lips pursed tightly. “We’re just happy to have a solution to the gross stuff the undead left behind. The administration is sitting on its hands, waiting for you to save us all.”

“I have Salire, now,” Theo said. “That’s a small mercy. I think our first step is going to be to aerosolize the potion, then drop it over Rivers and Gronro somehow. That might help get rid of the lingering effects. Then we can concern ourselves with pushing the undead curse back.”

Gwyn shared a look with Alise. They nodded.

“Are we going to reclaim lands to the north? Under the banner of the alliance?”

Theo grimaced. Yeah, that might be a good idea. But did they have the resources to do it? At that point, why would the Southlands Alliance stop there? They could clear the land from Broken Tusk all the way to Qavell, then reclaim Gardreth. Maybe they wouldn’t establish towns in all those places, but they could clear the way for others. It was a novel thought.

“Maybe. We’ll clear the land, then worry about what we do with it later. Hard enough managing everything south of Gronro.”

“Agreed,” Gael said, wiping his brow. “And we’re looking at a possible response from both Qavell and Tarantham, depending on how the Wavecrest does.”

“Right. Well, let’s…” Theo paused for a moment, tilting his head to one side. “What’s that?”

The rapid sound of a hammer bouncing off a bell issued somewhere in the distance. Everyone at the table shot up, then ran to the window. A smile crept across Theo’s face.

“Speak of the devil.”

Chapter 6

Invaders

Theo’s feet barely touched the ground as he dashed forward, propelled by the power of a dexterity potion. The administration interfaces were filled with information. Aarok’s messages flooded through the town, banging in the alchemist’s mind like the repeated clang of the bell. The Wavecrest wasn’t alone. According to the reports, they were trailed by ships flying the flags of Tarantham.

The rescuers might have taken his advice too literally and performed a daring escape.

Gael sent Theo an endless string of personal messages. The old elf couldn’t keep up with the alchemist, and resorted to dumping paragraphs of protocol into the interface. There was some important information in there. Enough advice to avoid kicking off a war with the elves. That would be disastrous. The alchemist jumped from the wall in the harbor, spun in the air, then downed a [Retreat Potion] imbued with the [Refined Elemental Wind] modifier. One second passed, then he was rocketed backwards by the power of the potion. His coat billowed in the wind, the hood whipping against his ears uncomfortably.

The moment the potion’s effects wore off, Theo glided to the ground. As his feet hit the solid stones of the pier, he spun around and ran for the towers. He drew sharp breaths on the top of the tower, narrowing his eyes to spot the oncoming fleet of ships.

“What do I do?” the adventurer manning the post asked.

Theo opened his administration interface and read through the information provided by Gael. The Tarantham Empire was all about protocol. Saving refugees wasn’t against their laws, but trespassing in their waters was. So the fleet was pursuing them because they had crossed that line. According to good old Gael, they wouldn’t attack the Wavecrest once it was in port. But there was more.

“Just wait,” Theo said, keeping his eyes on the horizon. His stunted magical senses stretched out, but only made it as far as the edge of the tower.

Long moments rolled by as the Wavecrest crawled across the bay. It was limping into port. Limping. The fleet could have caught up with it at any moment, but it didn’t. All part of a posturing threat. Before long, Gael’s ragged breaths came from the tower’s spiral staircase below. He fell onto his back, gasping for air as he looked skyward. Theo gave him enough time to recover from the sprint.

“Wait for the Wavecrest to make port. Then fire a warning shot,” he said, mopping the sweat from his forehead.

“How big of a warning shot?”

“As large as you can manage.”

Theo turned to the adventurer and nodded. The half-ogre swallowed hard, then dug through a dimensional crate on the floor. He withdrew a little present that Throk had created, then seated it in the sled of the rail gun. A few sharp words to the sister-tower had them loading the same shot and taking aim. The alchemist retrieved a Drogramathi Iron slug from the crate, then chanted the [Dragon’s Antimagic] linked ward. Just in case.

“Here it comes,” Theo said, looking over the edge of the tower. The Wavecrest had cleared the outer section of the pier, gaining speed from the harbor’s upgrades.

The fleet had taken a position out in the middle of the bay. According to Gael, they would remain there to blockade the port unless the proper protocols were followed.

“She’s snug in port,” the adventurer said, giving Theo the thumbs-up.

“Fire when ready.”

The adventurer gave the signal to the other gun. Theo plugged his ears as the supersonic rounds were launched high into the sky. Throk was a genius artificer. He had created a timing device that would detonate the improvised explosives over an area. Kind of like a nuke.

The blinding light came first. Two balls of fire appeared above the ships. An instant later, those vessels were sent pitching either way. The shockwave slammed into Theo’s chest, knocking the wind out of him. The adventurer manning the gun was knocked off his feet, clutching his head. Assuming the gunner position, the alchemist loaded his [Dragon’s Antimagic] round and prepared to fire again. Those defenders that had assembled on the pier were knocked off their feet. Some had fallen over the edge, finding themselves in a churning sea.

Gael, who had been below the tower’s edge during the explosion, rose to his feet. “Look,” he said, pointing at the lead ship. “Now they shall limp away! Hah!”

The ships were turning. Slowly, but they were turning. Time for the elves to tuck their tails between their legs and get the hell out of alliance waters. Theo didn’t flinch from his spot on the gun. His eyes were trained on the ship. His round was loaded into the rail gun, ready to fire. But the message he sent was received by the fleet. They plotted a slow course around the barrier islands, then out into the open sea.

“Well… aren’t you useful?” Theo asked, clapping a hand over Gael’s back. “So, that was posturing?”

“Rules. The empire thrives on rules. If we didn’t show them we could defend ourselves, they would have stayed there for the season. They will send a delegation, opening up a channel for trade.”

“Really? After we nuked them?”

“That’s the way it works.” Gael leaned against the wall, looking off into the distance. “The emperor will recognize power. He hates weakness.”

“Theo!” Aarok’s voice carried from down below. “That was a good explosion! Did we win?!”

Theo descended the stairs after tipping a [Healing Potion] into the downed adventurer’s mouth. Gael joined him across the pier, where both the military and administrative branches of the town were waiting. They relayed the story with no fanfare.

Alise took notes, nodding along the entire time. “Thankfully, we have Gael. I’m guessing it would have been a bad idea to sink them.”

“That would have been war,” Gael said, rolling his shoulders. “Ack. I’m not meant for running. If anyone needs me, I’ll be asleep for a week.”

The group rushed off to the harbor, leaving Gael to lick his wounds. The Wavecrest had already docked in the harbor, and was unloading the passengers. They looked horrible. Bloodied, bruised, and malnourished… The elves looked like they had been through hell. The captain of the ship, a plucky elven man, cheered as he exited the ship. Theo let the administrators do all the talking, busying himself with the administration of healing potions. Bilgrob and Zarali joined in. The ogre mended wounds that were too great for either of them to handle.

As expected, Xam arrived with a feast for the refugees. Sixty elves. All crammed in that tiny merchant’s ship. Looking over the poor folk, Theo couldn’t stop the sensation building in his chest. They had suffered long before being rescued. Living in a cave with nothing to eat but what they could steal from the empire. He couldn’t decide if Tarantham was to blame. Perhaps they would get theirs when the time came. When the undead marched beneath the sea.

Sixty souls meant sixty new contracts. This influx placed Broken Tusk’s population at 602 people. The strain that Theo had expected to feel with so many new people—the last time they saved people from Tarantham—hadn’t come. The alliance sat on a surplus of food and homes. As expected, the refugees were appreciative. They signed the contracts, accepted temporary housing, and were generally excited.

Theo turned away from the group part-way through, moving off with Aarok and Luras for a private conversation.

“That was… concerning, Theo,” Aarok said, glaring off into the distance.

The trio walked a winding path through the town, heading for the eastern gate with no other destination. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“World-stage stuff,” Luras growled. “We can pick off ships from the bay, but what happens when someone sends an ascendant attacker?”

“Without Fenian to defend us…” Aarok trailed off, shaking his head. “Who am I kidding? We’re always on that knife’s edge, aren’t we?”

Outwardly, it would appear so. But this business with Tarantham was standard. All according to Gael, of course. As long as they danced the right way, nothing would happen. The other nations were concerning, but not so long as they were busy with the undead. “Maybe. Let’s just stay ahead of it, right? We’re friendly with Partopour, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. That’s true,” Luras grunted.

Most of today had trickled away to various things. Theo hadn’t expected the Wavecrest to return, but it was a welcome sight. It gave him a taste of something he needed desperately. He needed people in the town. People in the alliance. Bodies and souls to help him prepare for whatever was coming. That drove him forward to do better—to recruit more people to the cause. But when it came down to defining his mission, he drew a blank.

Luras and Aarok chatted idly as they walked. Theo was lost in his thoughts. Was Broken Tusk a beacon of hope, or just another playground? It didn’t matter how someone defined this place. The people were fed, clothed, and housed. They wanted for nothing, giving them the chance to pursue their dreams. Those dreams might have been small alone, but together they created something bigger. Like many small flames coming together to create a blaze. The alchemist would dance around that fire as long as he could.

“I said we’re going to run patrols all night,” Aarok said, punching Theo in the arm. It was the only thing that snapped him out of his thoughts. “Wanna join?”

Theo thought for a moment. “Sure. Why not?”

“Take the first shift with Tresk. She already volunteered,” Luras said, jabbing his index finger skyward. “So did she.”

Alex was somewhere up there, flying circles around the town. If they were worried about elven infiltrators, it was a goofy thought. Better to be safe than sorry, though.

Theo broke off from Luras and Aarok, meeting Tresk and the gang back at the manor. Sarisa and Rowan were preparing food for the night, as Xam was busy with the refugees. The alchemist enjoyed their cooking, although he always ate light anyway. The discussion around the table was of the new elves. Of course it was. Alex sat in the alchemist’s lap as he ate, picking at his food and honking to interject her thoughts.

“Got your big boy pants on tonight?” Tresk asked, poking Theo in the shoulder with a three-tined fork.

“I’ve got my big boy coat, and my big boy boots. Good enough?”

“Perfect. I love night patrols.”

“Do you? We’re always asleep just after dusk.”

“True, true.” Tresk nodded, pursing her scaly lips. “But one can dream.”

Aarok organized the first watch for the night, creating temporary companies and units. Theo, Tresk, Rowan, and Sarisa were placed in the same unit. They were in charge of patrolling the wall. Alex was in a group all her own, tasked with flying over the town and providing much-needed intelligence. They had even commandeered the train to run patrols between the three towns. The alchemist wasn’t sure how they would spot anything in pitch black, going mach one.

Before heading off for their assigned posts, Aarok had the adventurers meet in the town square. Theo had a snide thought about that. Adventurers. The Adventurer’s Guild was still calling itself that, but it had become something else entirely. A military force. Although it was defensive, it was still a military. And the half-ogre commander loved playing the part of the wise general. He gave a speech about the importance of the operation. How the lives of everyone depended on their actions. He had the attention of the rowdy folks for about a minute before they lost interest.

Tresk was the unit commander, and was quick to throw around orders. It boiled down to marching along the wall as a group. Nothing fancy.

Ooo, I can see a lot at night. I want to fly at night more often, Alex said, speaking into Theo and Tresk’s minds.

Theo got a sense for what the goose could see. Through their bond, he could see flashes of Broken Tusk from the air. Lights shone in the darkness, tracing a path along the wall. She had already watched the elven ships set up on an island, making repairs. Her orders were strict. No interaction.

Twilight settled in over the town, plunging it into a deep darkness. Theo followed behind Tresk, carving intricate patterns into wolf teeth. The marshling wasn’t happy that he didn’t take his job seriously, but the alchemist shrugged it off. Sarisa and Rowan were there—they would spot anything before he did.

There were a few refugees wandering around the town. Escorted by the original refugees of Broken Tusk, they were taking in the sights and sounds of the silent town. They kept their voices low, and their eyes cast at the ground. Occasionally, they would raise their heads to look up to the sky. Maybe Tarantham’s policy of exterminating fallen houses wasn’t a good thing.

The group ran into another patrol. Tresk went into full military mode, giving a swift report before performing a strange salute. After the first few rounds on the walls, she led them down into the town. They searched around the areas where the new elves were staying, making sure everyone was in bed. The marshling asked brief questions of the folks who were out walking the town. Their responses all lined up with the idea of being cooped up in a cave for years, or a stir-crazy feeling that came from boarding the Wavecrest.

There were a few monster attacks from the [River Dungeon] throughout the night. Xol’sa had wanted to instigate a dungeon wave, but they had to put it off for a few days. Now the monsters inside had grown restless, and were overflowing into the river. While it was problematic, it was nothing the towers on the walls couldn’t handle.

Throk had perfected an interesting addition to the town’s defenses. A series of tubes snaked their way through the town, attached to each tower. A person only needed to fill a hopper with motes, and the power would be delivered with ease. Theo wanted something like he had in Tero’gal, where power was gathered and distributed automagically. Unfortunately, things didn’t work that way on the mortal plane. They had to do everything manually here, which was a pain.

“Woohoo!” Tresk shouted, pumping her fist.

A tower had just zapped a group of fald emerging from the river. They sizzled for a moment before falling back into the river. Theo chuckled, leaning over the wall. The night patrol wasn’t that bad. It reminded him of when he wandered off in Tero’gal, and no one came to bother him. The sound of swamp insects singing their song overshadowed any conversation. Everyone was content to keep their thoughts to quick bursts, rather than drawn-out things.

“I can’t wait to ride that thing,” Rowan said, gesturing into the distance. A streak of light raced in the distance.

“I’d rather not.” Even under the dim light of a torch, she looked pale. “That thing is too fast.”

“Oh, it is.” Theo laughed. “Throk made me ride that thing. Zipped all the way to Gronro in about a half-hour.”

“Seriously?” Rowan asked. “Gods, that’s so fast.”

“Do you remember walking to Rivers when we were kids?” Sarisa elbowed her brother, then giggled.

“Took us the whole day if we hitched a ride. They made us sleep outside the walls. Just two dirty little urchins.”

Tresk shrugged. “I don’t really remember you two growing up.”

“Cause your dad kept you cloistered in his shop. That’s why you’re so weird.” Rowan grinned.

“I’m not weird. You are.”

“I really thought we were the last generation of Broken Tuskers.” Sarisa had a sad smile on her face. “Now look at us. Taking on the world.”

“Felt like we were taking on the world back then,” Rowan said. “Do you remember that one time… What was Banu’s dad’s name? I can’t remember.”

“The old half-ogre farmer?” Sarisa asked. “I can’t remember either.”

“Anyway, we got into his vegetable garden. The old man always grew vegetables. ‘From the homeland,’ he’d always say. Remember how we stole that ogre pumpkin?”

Sarisa grimaced. “Do you remember how long I was in bed? Waiting for my arm and leg to heal?”

Rowan laughed. “Oh, I remember. I had to carry you to the chamber pot so you could…”

“Yep! I remember, too!” Sarisa interrupted, clapping a hand over Rowan’s mouth.

“You guys have so many stories,” Theo said, shaking his head. “I’m always thinking about that. How many little stories get lost because we don’t write them down.”

“Feeling homesick?” Sarisa asked.

“Don’t ask him.” Tersk scoffed. “He had a horrible childhood. Sold into slavery.”

“It wasn’t slavery.”

“Okay, uh…” Tresk cleared his throat. “His dad died, so his mom signed him up to some super secret military group. They brainwashed him and sent him to be a child soldier.”

“I was a spy.”

“A spy that killed people.”

Rowan and Sarisa shifted uncomfortably. Theo shook his head.

“That’s all done. My world was dying before I was born. We just had a good time while we could. Nothing more. But this world? It has a chance. We have a chance to turn it into something better.”

“At what cost?” Tresk asked. “You think Khahar and Fenian’s plan is gonna work?”

“It already is. Isn’t it? They’re changing the monitor system.”

“How far does that go? By the end, we’re gonna have a totally different system down here on Planet Mortal.”

“Yeah. The way it was meant to be before the first beings messed everything up.”

Sarisa cleared her throat. “So, anyway. About that pumpkin…”