ã€ŠThe Hunter&#x27;s Guide to Monstersã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Prologue

    Former Guinsant Alliance Territory, Marfall Continent

    Eighth Circling, Year 9125 After the Shattering

    7 years after the Quake

    ~

    The forest was quiet; something had disturbed its song. Three people burst into a clearing, stopped. They eyed the meadow festooned with summer flowers in a mboyant riot with wary suspicion.

    "It''s hunting us," said the youngest of them, bitter fury and fear in his voice.

    The other two, older by nearly a decade, nced at each other.

    "The others have probably gotten far enough by now," said the only one among them with furry wolven ears. Said ears were twitching, pointed in alertness and twisting in rm.

    "Stonesharks are native to Amvard Continent," mused the older human, visibly uneasy. "How did they cross the seas to Marfall?"

    "What does that have to do with anything, Scare!?" The other human was nearly shouting, but noise was irrelevant. The predator that was after them hunted by using the vibrations of the earth.

    "They''re earth elementals ¨C they shouldn''t be able to crossrge bodies of water." The man called Scare tapped his fingers on a thigh restlessly as he spoke.

    The wolfman tightened his grip on his ive. "Shall we be heading for the swamps then?"

    "Earth elemental," muttered the youngest, finally calmed down. "Probably the upheavals in the''s geography, and bridge appeared maybe? Or they fell through the cracks in the crust and went deep enough to avoid the water. The swamps aren''t too safe, but not as dangerous as open ground. That''s also Siren territory. Poison?" He tilted his head. "There''s a traptree near here. Those are the ones with the poisoned bonespikes right?"

    The wolfman smirked at Scare ¨C the other''s distraction had worked. Scare returned the smirk, eyesughing. "We better get going. They won''t be happy about you knowing where their crazy trees are, by the way."

    The youngest of them looked up at the imposing wolfman with deliberately wide eyes. "But, Gazzy, I''m a hunter. I''m supposed to stalk things, upational hazard, see? It''s not my fault I saw a Siren acting suspiciously and she didn''t see me?"

    Scare snorted. "They all act suspiciously, Fin."

    "An infinitely suspicious race, the Sirens." Gazzy''s ears swiveled in amusement. He stiffened. "Three o''clock."

    They fell silent to save their breath and decisively changed direction, running in a more westerly direction toward the swamps. Humor took a backseat but the group looked slightly less stressed than before.

    It was futile to run, really. Even if they were running on tree-branches, their footfalls would be felt by the stoneshark. It would follow relentlessly.

    They entered the bounds of the swamp and paused for breath on a mat of swamp vines weaving between branches.

    "Tell me again," Gazzy groused, "why we had to be the distraction and not the guys with flight movement skills?"

    "There was no one with flight? And the Skywalk move skill is still sold by VanHels n at exorbitant prices?" Fin nearly tripped over a root, nudged upright in thest moment by a casual nudge of a wed hand.

    "Bastards, useless holes," Gazzy growled.

    They all had the Wind-water Steps that imparted speed and weightless movement, but it wasn''t enough to outrun a stoneshark that moved through earth like an actual shark did through water.

    Scare noticed theirrgestpanion look around ufortably. Understandable. The swamp wasn''t like the woond ¨C the sound of running waters and the incessant insect noises echoing through the mist would impair enhanced hearing.

    Fin caught his eye, looking worried. He''d noticed too, and Gazzy''s senses were how they''d been evading the stoneshark until now.

    "Where is this traptree again?"

    Fin pointed. "Maybe a hundred meters."

    "Let''s go, then."

    It took less than a minute to see the traptree. They all looked warily at the seemingly innocuous tree, a swamp alder that bulged about the trunk, crooked, looking like an obese humanoid attempting to reach its toes in vain with crooked branches growing along its spine. Vines drooped from the branches, hiding most of the trunk from view.

    Gazzy growled briefly and swept a hand through the curtain of mossy vines, disappearing into the depths.

    Fin shrugged at Scare. "Vargvir are naturally more resistant to poison than humans. We''ll just have to wait for the screaming."

    Right. The vines were probably poisoned.

    Scare turned to look behind them, scanning the shadows and the swamp waterszily curling around exposed roots and mossy boulders. The swamp wasn''t as quiet as the forest.

    But dread hung closer about it.

    Scare turned, stepping closer to the water and triggering the Lesser Listener Spell. Mud squished unpleasantly under his feet. The shushed sound of running waters magnified in his ears, was that rustling the sound of crocodiles brushing against reeds?

    "Scare!"

    He flinched at the warning, Gazzy''s roar like thunder inside his brain, magnified by the Spell.

    The sound of water sloughing off stones washed across the echoes of the roaring. He whirled. The stoneshark opened its mouth, swamp water dripping off it like small waterfalls. Rows of teeth, and red red red.

    Scare thrust his sword instinctively.

    Another roar pummeled his brain. Not Gazzy. He ended the Listener Spell and leaped away. The stoneshark followed, its bulk clearing water as fast as a striking snake, open mouth, jaw unhinged to show even more teeth in pursuit of him.

    The Lesser Listener couldn''t hear what was going on under water. And for Gazzy, it was easier to hear earth moving and breaking under their feet as something moved underground than parse which running water sound was the sound of a stoneshark unexpectedly using water to hide its movements.

    Had it noticed that Gazzy directed them away from it every time it nearly broke through the ground surface?

    Truly, an intelligent hunter.

    This was probably not the time to be admiring of the fearful symmetry of monsters.

    Scare steadied, jumped high. The stoneshark stopped, confused.

    He triggered one of his two majorbat Spells, and braced himself. "Skystrike!"

    He bore down on the sword as the Spell slingshotted him toward the monster beast. The sword bit deep between the stone tes of the opponent''s head at the same time that a bonespike, tainted green and ck, embedded itself in an eye.

    Gazzy, as a vargvir, was a natural huntsman. The pained roars of the stoneshark from both their attacks echoed in ripples around the swamp.

    It wasn''t enough.

    The stoneshark flicked its head to the side. Scare let go of the sword before his arm broke. Unbnced, he slipped off the beast. He flipped, using a stone te jutting out of the monster''s side to right his position, but that meant the head swiveled back and a falling Scare was right in the path of its maw.

    Idiot! He mentally yelled at himself. He didn''t even have time to gasp.

    He heard his name yelled, a dual roar and scream. But pain struck, a dozen dozen dull knives tearing into his flesh and sawing into his bones.

    The stoneshark opened its mouth again, tossed its head to better position Scare''s body in its mouth.

    Too much pain to scream.

    The prick on his arm was nothing inparison. A numbing sensation spread on his arm. He turned his head weakly. Blurry sight saw a bonespike tip embedded in the flesh of his upper arm.

    Fin, a part of him howled in outrage at his pseudo younger brother. You missed, you little shit! I''ll get you back for this! But also, a cold and calm part of his brain engaged and he grasped the spike. He couldn''t see anymore, but did it matter when everything was pain?

    He could feel the direction of the teeth in the monster''s lower jaw, embedded in his body. He weakly directed the poisoned spike upward just as the monster closed its mouth again.

    Scare smirked as he felt the weight on the spike and the sudden cking of the stoneshark''s jaw strength.

    Good. A single spike wouldn''t do that. So the weakening of the monster only meant that Gazzy and Fin were still alive.

    And safe.

    His sightless eyes closed.

    Finally, he felt nothing.

    *

    Since the birth of the age ofputers, even before the age of the inte in the 1990s, people have been dreaming of interfacing technology into human biology. Prosthetics, neural imnts, cybeics, artificial intelligence, all the philosophy and greed of tech transhumanism.

    Each leap in the advancement of technology changed the face of the world ¨C the inte in the 1990s, smartphones in the 2010s, augmented reality in the 2040s where urban safety innovations forced transport safety signals to be integrated mandatorily into personal hands-free tech, artificial intelligence in the 2050s when the code to high-end artificial general intelligence units was streamlined enough to be avable for personal use.

    It was the breakthrough in high-end artificial intelligence that allowed the promise of virtual reality to be realized. The year 2058 saw the first viable virtual reality dataspace. But even then, it took twenty years beforemercial VR technology became cheap enough and safe enough for the general poption.

    Of course, the first incarnation of widespread mainstream VR tech was a game.

    The VRMMORPG called Halfworld 10,000 BC, registration opening in 2079 CE, was a virtualary representation of Earth that was half the size of the real thing. The theme was building and exploration. The goal was to advance the world to a spacefaring civilization in-game ¨C a yground for history buffs, sociologists, and technogeeks alike.

    It was a massive sess.

    VR tech started to bleed into other industries.

    There was VR tourism, which governments endorsed to lessen the foot traffic at historical sites. There was VR conferencing, which businesses jumped at. There was VR mining control, which became standard in all space-mining tforms.

    The 2080s was theunch of the first space-based businesses, but that''s another story.

    Sixteen years after the rise of Halfworld, in 2095, the game that would save the lives of one hundred and fifteen million yers from the devastation of the human race was upgraded with an expansion called Rends: Masters of War.

    It was a year and six months before the destruction of Earth.

    *

    Nearly eight years after a mega-earthquake destroyed the, the yer Scare died on another world and woke up back on an Earth he never thought he''d see again.

 Chapter 2 - A World Destined

    Eli woke with the memory of putrid rotten meat paramount in his mind.

    He iled on his bed, screaming.

    Hands viciously tearing at the sheet that had be entangled with his limbs during sleep, he fell off the edge of the bed.

    The dull thump stopped the screaming, leaving harsh nearly panicky panting as the man ripped off thest of the sheet and stumbled instinctively to the ss door that was letting in the pale light of near dawn.

    The door led to a tiny balcony.

    He slipped on the fake-ceramic tiles as the door opened, a short rain in the pre-dawn having wet the surfaces. Ending up on his hands and knees, he inhaled the chilly morning air with the desperate greediness of a drowning man.

    His deep breaths stuttered, as his body adjusted from where his brain had been. He grabbed at a flower pot containing a withered nt and spewed the contents of his stomach into it.

    The small pot, already filled with soil and a mass of poorly watered herbs, wasn''t enough to contain everything and vomit sloshed over the edges, sttering over sleepwear and the smooth faux-tile of the balcony.

    Eli raised his head and stared through the spaces between the balusters, wide-eyed at the sight of a city skyline that had haunted him in dreams for years.

    Impossible.

    <em>-Screams and the sound of cracking metal and concrete.-</em>

    He shook his head.

    "Focus on sight," he told himself harshly, recalling coping mechanisms that he hadn''t needed for years. "What do you see?"

    Nothing, really.

    His natural eyesight was weak.

    Somehow, the slightly blurry world before him was greatlyforting.

    One thing he''d loved about Zushkenar, was that he''d never needed his sses again.

    This was not Zushkenar.

    He scrambled to his feet and entered his room, scrabbling for the sses on the bedside table, before returning to sit as close as he could to the balcony rail.

    He pressed his forehead to the balcony''s iron balusters, the metal cold as ice and just as grounding. He gawked at the street below.

    There were yellow and white striped taxicabs already lining up at the stop for the earlymuters. Count them. One, two, three, four, five, six seven, eight.

    One two three four five bicycle vendors pedaling through the intersection on the other side of the park.

    There was a study, he remembered, when he was in college, on the reasons behind the resurgence of streetfood vendors after they dwindled to near non-existence. Something about crime statistics, a new drug, and the growing trend of outdoor entertainment due to concerns about VR impacting physical health?

    His breath hitched.

    No.

    Start counting.

    Twelve trees visible in the park from his sixth floor apartment balcony. Eight flower pots on his balcony ¨C only four had greenery, mostly the mint he used to make tea, and the hardy bonsai that didn''t die no matter how many times he forgot to water them.

    The rest were neglected to death, had been since his mother died. The pain was a swift ache at the memory, there but flowing past. In his view, it had been eleven years since his mother''s death.

    He didn''t know the exact date, but the fact that the nts were dead meant it had been more than a year. He wondered, mutely and regretfully, how the Eli of the past could let his mother''s nts die.

    He closed his eyes for a moment, before once more studying this world that was waking in the nascent rays of the morning sun.

    An Earth sunrise, he marveled.

    The sunrises in Zushkenar were more dramatic and colorful. Those who could see broader spectrums of light said the sunrises and sunsets of that otherworld were incredible, like seeing a song being written in shades of light and darkness and clouds.

    But there was something about this simple yellow and salmon sunrise that reached into Eli''s chest and seized his heart. This was the sun he had been born under, one that he and the transmigrated one hundred and fifteen million yers of Rends had resigned themselves to never seeing in person again.

    Was this a hallucination?

    He knew he''d died.

    He''d just been eaten alive by a giant burrowing rock-armored dragon-snake monster, could smell the foul breath of rotting meat in its mouth, could feel teeth slicing into various parts of his body.

    He shuddered and vomited again.

    He didn''t bother with a flowerpot this time.

    The bitter sour smell of bile mixed with digested food cut through the phantom memories of his death. He wiped his mouth on the back of a hand, grimacing.

    If this world was fake, it was shitty VR.

    You can''t be too realistic, you know?

    People only believed they''d been transmigrated to Zushkenar, the world of the game, because everything was too real. Too scarily tangibly real.

    So.

    He might really be back on Earth.

    The fingers of his left hand rxed from their death grip on the balusters. The iron under his palms had pressed deep into his flesh. He let go and stared at the red lines.

    He looked at the city again.

    This simple, chilly sunrise; it was beautiful.

    It was so beautiful.

    *

    The harsh ring of the phone lifted Eli from the depths of slumber.

    He groaned and squinted at therge digital clock embedded into his wall. The blurry glowing figures said it was September 28, Wednesday, 10:23 a.m., the temperature 19 degrees Celsius, and that there would be light rainter in the afternoon but most of the day would be sunny.

    He flopped onto his back.

    After cleaning up the balcony and taking a shower, he''d been too overwhelmed that he wept himself to sleep. ording to the clock, that was maybe five hours ago.

    It also said Wednesday, which was the middle of the work week. Eli covered his eyes with an arm. If he had work or anything else scheduled today, he could not bring himself to care.

    He''d been in Zushkenar for nearly eight years, where the highest mechanical tech was magical clockwork. That didn''t stop some of the former yers from building clockwork motorcycles, but that wasn''t the point.

    The point was he wouldn''t remember what to do for a modern job anyway. He had a lot of part-time jobs before the Quake. It was probably fine if he missed a day without cause. Probably.

    The phone rang again.

    He flipped to the side, frowning blearily as he reached above to the headboard ledge. His body was heavy and sluggish. He patted the ledge without opening his eyes and finally found the earpiece.

    He clipped it to the imnted port in his ear, the smart interface picking the call up the second the pieces connected.

    "Eli?" The caller asked with anxious concern as soon as the call connected.

    Eli groaned unintelligibly in reply.

    The person on the other end exhaled in relief, hard enough to be audible over the line. Then the person almost wailed his next words. "I''ve been waiting over an hour!"

    "Guh!!?"

    "Eli, the interview''s in thirty minutes! Are you stuck in traffic? You said you''d be early? Are you alright? What street are you on now?"

    That voice was¡­

    "Zee?" Eli croaked the name, conflicted feelings rushing through him.

    "What''s wrong with your voice? Don''t tell me you just woke up? Tell me you''re in the taxi already. This is Hareon Inteary, Eli, you can''t show upte!" A groan sounded over the line. "Ah, I knew I should''ve dropped by your ce. But you said you''d be here early enough to have breakfast!"

    "No, I¡­" Hareon Inteary?

    Eli sat up slowly on his bed, remembering, the memoriesing sharp in his mind.

    Oh. Well. He didn''t need to go to work today, it seemed. He was sacked six months ago. And it was before he needed to take up part-time jobs.

    He knew what day this was now. It was unmistakable.

    It was that interview.

    When you get transmigrated into another world because your has been destroyed by the great-grandmother of all earthquakes, you unfortunately retain nostalgia over some very odd things, much connected to emotion. The bad and humiliating memories weren''t exempted.

    Eli''s mind had gone over this day many many times in memory.

    The reason?

    The interview with HI had been the end of everything, for him.

    Everything.

    September 28, 2095.

    Hah, what a day.

    Two years before, Eli''s mother had died, and he''d crumpled into a deep depression. She had been one of the constants in his life. She had always been there to support him, and when she wasn''t Eli floundered.

    Then six months ago, he''d been let go by thepany due to restructuring and budget cuts.

    Being a child who had always been praised by his teachers and had immediately found a job with a majorpany after university, this was a second constant in his life that was shaken. He wasn''t as intelligent or aplished as he thought he was, and that stung.

    Eli, at 26 years old, had been a depressed loner who hoarded misery like a dragon hoarded treasures. And like a dragon, had an unconscious arrogance about him brought on by being his mother''s only child. After losing two pirs of his life, he had been psychologically strained, especially after six months of not finding a job after beingid off.

    He''d been desperate for something to be sessful, so he emotionally and mentally hinged that sess on passing the HI interview.

    That had been a bad idea.

    He sighed, then deliberately worsened his voice, nearly gargling the words half into a pillow. "I got a cold."

    There was an incredulous silence, before Zee exploded. "A¡­a cold?! What the hell? Don''t mess with me, a cold?!"

    It was uncharacteristic of Zee to curse at others; he must really be nervous about today''s interview.

    "Mm." Eli ignored the familiar distressed noises.

    The other sounded like he wanted to strangle Eli, that or cry. "You studied weeks to pass the preliminary screenings, and now you ''have a cold''? Eli, they don''t give second chances."

    "I know," he groaned with all the pitifulness he could muster. "You think I don''t want to be there?"

    He really didn''t.

    "Okay. I''ming over there." The concern in Zee''s voice was warming, but really unnecessary at this time.

    "No." Eli straightened up suddenly. "If youe here and don''t take that interview, we''re no longer friends. I won''t be friends with someone who throws away their future over me."

    "But there''s no one in the building now¡­should I call ¨C"

    "Try it, Ventre," Eli sneered into the phone, interrupting the other.

    There was a slightly shocked noise at how much menacing disdain there was in Eli''s voice.

    Eli too, used to be surprised at how much threat could put into a few sybles, until he learned that a few harsh words could prevent a fight. The Zushkenar learning curve was steep ¨C survive a wartorn continent in another world, and intimidating braggadocio came naturally.

    "Is there something wrong?" the man at the other end of the line sounded hesitant.

    Like a rabbit, Eli frowned. Typical Zee.

    But Eli remembered the admiration his mother had for their neighbor. Zee was a year younger than Eli, and at this point in time he''d just graduated from university at the age of twenty-five. It took him longer than usual to get a degree because Zee had to work to support two younger sisters.

    Under the slightly manic babbling and the semi-frequent bouts of shyness, Zee had a spine of mythic steel.

    Eli sighed. "Just a headache. I''m going to sleep it off. If youe visit, it better be tomorrow. Bring cake, anything with rum and fruit. We''ll celebrate."

    He hung up and turned the phone off.

    The Hareon Inteary main interviewsted ten hours, from eleven in the morning to nine at night.

    The preliminary interview was just before lunch. Lunch was taken in one of the HI cafeterias. Later, those hired were informed that the lunch break was part of the overall assessment.

    Eli hadn''t been one of the lucky hires.

    Zee had.

    He flopped back onto the bed, arms spread wide.

    Like Zee said, he''d spent weeks preparing. But in the back of his mind, he already expected to be hired so while his preparation was meticulous it wasn''t as in-depth as it probably should''ve been.

    He''d been arrogantlyzy, Eli sneered at himself half-heartedly. Zushkenar had taught him what a massive mistake that was.

    The space-faring industry needed painful precision and ruthlesspetence. Eli had beenpetent but too inattentive for them.

    It was logical that they didn''t hire him.

    But to his mind at that time, he''d been humiliated and unjustly treated.

    He''d inadvertently hinged all his self-esteem and hopes on that interview. When he didn''t pass, he''d been emotionally and mentally crushed. After that interview, it was like all his subsequent interviews were tainted. He never held more than a part-time job until the world ended over a yearter.

    Eli twitched and jack-knifed back to a sitting position. The conversation with Zee had almost let him forget.

    This was his old world.

    The world that on December 21, 2096 was struck by an earthquake magnitudes greater than any earthquake that hade before, a disaster that split continents and destroyed the; a disaster that the human race didn''t survive.

    Then unexpectedly, one hundred and fifteen million people woke up in the world of a game they had been ying.

    A game made real.

    The shock and confusionsted years, and would''ve likely killed most of them off if a coalition of yer ns from all over the map hadn''t banded together to stop the wars.

    As it was, by the time Eli had died, they''d lost maybe a sixth of their total number.

    Eli didn''t want to think about it, directed his thoughts elsewhere.

    Zushkenar.

    Eli had spent seven years and some months in that world, the world of the game called Rends, as the former yer StrawmanScare that most knew as the minor hunter and master leatherworker Scare.

    And now he was back, nine years in the past.

    On his beloved Earth, once more.

    A world that was destined to die.

 Chapter 3 - Encounter

    After that dreadful thought, Eli couldn''t think of anything else.

    Heughed, sounding like he was in drunken hysterics.

    He''d lived again, only to be fated to die?

    He''d seen Earth again, only to lose it?

    So funny.

    It was so hrious.

    Eliughed for a long time, couldn''t stop. A response to fear, to anxiety, to the incredulity of his current situation.

    He choked on tears, his lungs burned fromck of air and his stomach ached from theughter.

    When the storm was over, hey on his bed, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. A restlessness settled in his bones. He got up and washed his face in the bathroom, shoved his sses on.

    His reflection stared back, face dripping water, eyes visibly red at the rims even behind the oldfashioned sses. Dark hair, brown eyes. If he remembered correctly, 81 kilograms on a 176 cm tall frame. He got on the weighing scale and scoffed faintly at the numbers ¨C yep, he remembered the strangest things.

    He put on clothes, pulling them absently from the closet with no care what they actually were, and mmed out the door.

    It waste morning on a Wednesday in September ¨C the weather was fairly benign in that transition between summer and fall. Eli relished the sunlight on his skin, even if the warmth was weakened by the mass of clouds that greyed out most of the sky.

    There were few people on the pedestriannes, but the trams were full ¨C it was just the end of the morning coffee break, wasn''t it?

    He shook his head at himself ¨C was he even getting nostalgic about corporate life?

    He started walking, heading in no particr direction ¨C the streets were familiar and not ¨C the carefully designednes were so different from the wild paths he''d walked for thest seven years, but these were also streets he''d walked through with his mother for years and years.

    The local neighborhood was at the edge of the slums, and so a lot of the buildings were old and rundown, but the area also had a lot of small parks that made long therapeutic walks suitably attractive.

    Eli felt himself slowly calm down as he walked.

    He let his feet guide him, cautiously going down onene, or trying an alleyway, or turning a corner to see another morass of small streets.

    He just walked and walked, trying to empty his head of¡­everything.

    He seeded and didn''t, putting himself into a trance where all he could do was muse distantly, hazily, as if everything was a dream. He only came out of it when his stomach made a gurgling sound, embarrassingly loud.

    He stopped in his tracks.

    The sky was slightly clearer of clouds, enough for the sun to bathe the city in the deepening golden light ofte afternoon. Eli looked around. Um?

    Where was he?

    The street was narrow and the buildings were close together ¨C he didn''t see anyndmarks.

    "Youing in or not?"

    He jerked around to see an old woman peering at him from within a window. Behind her, he could see a mass of bubbling pots and sizzling pans. He leaned back slightly to look at the sign.

    Master Chef Round the World Bowls

    Eli leaned the entrance-doors beside the window, peering inside the restaurant. There was only seating for about twelve people, definitely not a restaurantrge enough for the grandiose name. The inside was narrow, with seats for two-person tables against the walls leaving barely enough space for one person to traverse the aisle.

    The smell though, was certainly¡­he understood why his stomach demanded he stop here. It gurgled again, as if in enthusiastic response to his thought.

    He smiled sheepishly at the old woman and looked away to the menu. Whoa, he boggled as he tapped through the options. There were more than two hundred kinds of dishes, marked with the gs of at least two dozen countries.

    He nced behind the woman again, considering the scale of the kitchen, then focused on her. "Do you have a rmendation?"

    She paused in her washing out a number of utensils and contemted the question. "What''s your favorite ingredient? Spice level? Textures? Scents? Hot or cold?"

    "Beef," he said immediately. "Wagyu."

    She nodded absently.

    "Tomatoes," he decided. There were no tomatoes in Zushkenar. Orven Norge, creator of Rends, apparently hated them.

    Zushkenari pizza could get very creative.

    Mock-tomato was a favorite food ingredient among the transmigrators after the Quake ¨C an inside joke that started as angry and bitter humor butter became a bonding point between people in the same situation.

    "Lots of tomatoes." Eli shoved his hands into his pockets, only half-serious with his next request. "Do you have shark?"

    To his surprise, the old woman nodded. "The South African spiced cktip bowl is popr. Young shark, very tender."

    Eli was suddenly aware of a rather ravenous hunger. Hunger and a distinct wish for petty revenge. "Forget the beef. I''ll take all your shark dishes. And whatever tomato dishes you rmend."

    The old woman lifted her head from her pots, blinking in concern. "Young man, we have four shark dishes. The food in each dish is by weight 200 to 300 grams. Can you eat all of it?"

    Eli calcted.

    "Um¡­yes? Yes. Nothing too strong smelling ¨C fish sauce level and mixed spices is fine. Heat level¡­nothing stronger than 10,000 Scoville. Any texture, as long as it''s not homogenous. Hot dishes, if possible. What''s your best tomato dish?"

    "Then definitely the Gbki Bowl and the Wild Ratatouille Bowl. We also have a great pasta al pomodoro. Ah, the tomato and egg rice bowl is also a good one."

    Eight dishes would be 1.6 to 2.4 kilograms. Most people eat that much in a day, not in one sitting. Eli nodded, tapped the rmendations into the menu screen, then searched the shark dishes and added them.

    This time, he wasn''t eating to eat.

    Mostly.

    This was about principle, about taking back himself!

    Yeah, that''s right! He pressed a finger into the biometric scanner, the bill immediately being paid from his bank ount.

    The woman just shook her head as the order appeared on her kitchen terminal. "Free soup, hot and fresh," was the only thing she said.

    Eli sat himself at a table, and the soup was set down by a server almost the same time he sat. He sipped the vegetable soup, which was pretty good, and looked around.

    Despite the small space, the table didn''t feel that cramped. There were only a few people there, and several other tables were being cleaned up.

    He''de in at the end of a small rush, it seemed.

    That meant the food should at least be good, right?

    The first bowl clunked on the ss-topped table before him.

    "Your gbki," the server introduced softly. "Enjoy."

    The gbki was minced meat and vegetables rolled into cabbage leaves and doused in a spiced tomato sauce. Eli leaned forward to inhale ¨C he couldn''t help it. The smell was just so alluring. The steam condensed on his sses, whiting out the world.

    He ignored the momentary blindness for the promise of delicious food and took a bite.

    Oh.

    If the rest of the dishes were the same quality, the ache and tiredness from walking for hours would be totally gone by the time he left.

    Eli lowered his head to eat faster, as bowl after bowl appeared as soon as he finished each one, didn''t even care that he couldn''t see while he ate ¨C each dish made his tastebuds sing.

    He spent two hours savoring each bowl after the first pangs of hunger were satisfied. He even ordered another of the African cktip shark bowl ¨C the shark meat was really tender and the mixed spice aroma invaded the nostrils as soon as the dish was put down.

    He beamed in the direction of the server every time his soup was refilled, liberallyplimenting the cook.

    It was probably too much, because the old woman came out to chat for a bit, and Eli learned that her husband and son were both rated master chefs by the World Chef''s Society ¨C the reason for the name of the shop. They both died during a joint world tour with a dozen other chefs ¨C their air-yacht blew up over the Caribbean, suspected to have been hit by a meteorite.

    The shop used the family recipes.

    By the time he left, the sun had set and the alleyways were illuminated by fairy lights and diffused lightmps ¨C it was definitely a theme. Eli checked his geomap to mark the location of the restaurant, and discovered that he hadn''t gone that far from his apartment ¨C just a couple of kilometers away but the pattern on his personal trackware said he''d crossed and recrossed his route more than a few times in a number of ces, turned around here and there by the warren of alleys and streets.

    Right now, he was deep into the oldcity slums.

    Looking at the quiet alleys lit like they were tourist streets, it definitely didn''t look like the slums.

    Come to think of it, it was probably a managed street ¨C some of themps were stamped with the same logo. Managed streets were protected by a person or group, and in many cases were definitely marketed to tourists.

    There were more and more peopleing through. He checked his geomap and reoriented toward his apartment. He felt slightly sleepy now.

    Should he call a taxi?

    He took a deep breath of the cool air, patting his slightly bulging stomach. The chill in the air chased away some of his lethargy.

    He started walking, ambling in the general direction of his apartment.

    Therge amount of food he ate needed to settle before he slept, and the dishes had sted away his tiredness with delicious vor and the feeling of dark satisfaction.

    He stretched as he walked, feeling light and full.

    As long as he stuck to the light-fillednes, there won''t be trouble.

    He stepped onto a more mainstream street, then stopped. On the side of a high-rise, the moving poster was advertising a very familiar game.

    An agile vargvir shed with a roaring trollkin on the moving advertisement. The vargvir tumbling into a wed sh, the trollkin easily twirling a massive shield as his only weapon ¨C each of the movements something Eli had seen before, familiar.

    He hadn''t expected¡­

    He stood there, dazed, as the advertisement for Rends: Masters of War ran to end in an eye-catching close pan of a field battle between tworge groups ¨C showing the viewers the expressions of those on the battlefield to great detail.

    Eli turned his back on the ad-screen, his thoughts once more chaotic.

    He lifted a hand, as if to wipe away the sight from his eyes, paused when his fingers visibly trembled. He shoved his hands into pockets and walked away, tread heavier than before.

    He lost track of his steps once more, wandering in deep thought.

    Someone bumped into him, snarled, "Watch it, loser."

    "Come on guys, I see him," the words had people moving faster.

    The group of youths moved with a purpose, sliding around him with smirks and deliberate pushes. Eli, caught off guard, didn''t react until they passed him like a small flock of piranhas scenting better prey.

    He frowned at their backs.

    There were no gangs in Greatcentral City; the public monitoring was tooprehensive for that. But that didn''t stop people from being ruffians.

    He looked at the way they moved; not very disciplined, too open ¨C it would be as easy to defeat them without a weapon as a group of low-level hood-morlocks. He pushed his sses more firmly up his nose, and smiled wryly as his thin wrists came into view ¨C he looked down at his weak arms and jiggly belly.

    He wasn''t StrawmanScare anymore. He didn''t want to be.

    "Oi, Rigaton!"

    The yell had obvious challenge in its tone.

    Eli, who was already walking away, hesitated. Rigaton¡­.wasn''t that the name of one of Zee''s friends?

    He looked back, then carefully followed the sounds of jeeringughter. Peering around a moldy mass of packaging, he saw seven or eight youths surrounding two people, taunting.

    The two were backed against a chained gate, and one had stepped in front of the other, returning the taunts with a wide smirk and a calm voice.

    Eli peered into the semi-darkness, cursing once again his eyesight.

    Oh.

    It really was one of Zee''s friends.

    Jori Rigaton, and behind him was one of Marai''s numerous cousins¡­Helian? Harrine? Recognizable because of the blue and white dyed hair.

    Everyone mostly called her H, for some reason. Also Hellion, sometimes. Eli snorted in amusement. He could see why. She didn''t look scared, and unlike Jori''s general mocking, she chose her targets, returning their barbs with precisely targeted thorny words and an unchanging look of irritation, as if annoyed by the necessity.

    The group surrounding them was getting angrier.

    Which, really, what did the two think they were doing?

    Eli looked around, and saw a mass of birdseed pouches tied to a balcony railing above him. He was fairly certain there was aw against feeding wild birds due to the Pigeon Crisis in American cities some decades back, but thanks for the consideration, randomwbreaker.

    He pushed himself slowly up the pile of crates, and onto the balcony. Then started tying the birdseed pouches closed.

    There was a burst of mad maliciousughter, and Eli nced down to see the ringleader kick Jori in the stomach viciously. "Arrogant ballsucker! You think you can take us all on? We''ll make your twathole watch while we cut you open, Rigaton."

    "At least make a more credible threat," the Hellion shot back. "You think you can get away with armed assault like this, even in a ce where there''s no monitoring? You''ve already been caught on cameras heading here, idiots. And we know your faces, even though who the frak are you, is my question. If you want to get away with this, you''ll have to kill us. Do you have the guts?"

    Eli stifled augh as he tied off thest of the birdseed pouches. Jori didn''t bother and guffawed openly while using the chain-gate to hold himself up ¨C hisughter was wheezy, likely just got his breath back.

    One of the girls with the group stepped forward, obviously going for violence, while one of the boys moved to restrain H. Eli hefted a pouch, wound his arm back, and threw as hard as he could.

    The pouch exploded on one of the group''s backs, causing yelps where the birdseed shrapnel hit.

    Eli grinned, sudden.

    More effective than expected.

    He hurled three more in quick session, causing confusion and angry yelling.

    The two slipped away, smartly.

    Two moreunches, and Eli ran ¨C flinging himself off the balcony and onto the street below like he still had his advanced physique from Zushkenar.

    "Ow." He whined for a second when the jolt ofnding hit too hard. But he ran.

    "After them!" was the roar from behind.

    No footsteps trailed Eli, so he knew they meant the other two.

    Eli didn''t know the streets here, so he only ran until he rounded a corner, then slowed down to a slightly fast walk, looking for a street with more people and better monitoring.

    He stepped onto a tourist street with a sigh of relief and slowed down even more, feigning interest in the booths lining the market street.

    "Oh wait," he realized. "I could''ve called the emergency hotline."

    That was possible on Earth.

    "Yeah, but thanks for not."

    Eli whirled,ing face to face with Jori Rigaton, who snorted.

    "I thought that was you, Crewan. What are you doing in this part of the neighborhood?"

    "¡­they say you have to sweat out the flu. I''m taking a walk."

    H, who''d been looking at Eli curiously, snickered. "No, you were running. That just makes a flu worse, y''know?"

    "You mean that great-grandmother''s wisdom-for-the-agessite was lying?"

    Sheughed. Jori scoffed. "Call a taxi and go home, Crewan. You can''t even run twenty meters without drowning in sweat. Don''t really care what you''re doing in the neighborhood, but I owe you one. Don''t ask for anything illegal, yeah?"

    He pushed past Eli with an almost friendly wave.

    "Bye," H smiled before falling into step beside Jori.

    Eli considered the suggestion of a taxi. His muscles were once again feeling the ache, adrenaline starting to drop. He sighed and tapped his geomap for the location of the nearest station.

    He fell asleep before he got to the apartment, waking at the gentle shake the autodrive taxi made when the biomed systems that were standard on every automated vehicle detected he was asleep.

    He yawned all the way into the apartment, didn''t even stop to wash but went straight to bed.

 Chapter 4 - Life Coupon

    Eli stumbled to the door, fumbling his sses onto his nose.

    He hissed as his thigh hit the corner of a table.

    Of course he''d forgotten theyout of his own apartment, he silentlyined resentfully.

    It had been eight years.

    But knowing that that didn''t help him reach whoever was making such a mor in front of his apartment without giving himself injuries. Damned half-blind eyes!

    Who was making that racket when people were sleeping, by gods? He irritatedly pped the panel that cleared the generally opaque viewing window on the door.

    Batard, see if I don''t sic an exploding hedgehog in your general direction!

    The visitor''s face filled the space, annoyingly all but pressing his nose into the one-way ss. Large sea-green eyes were magnified by the viewing window, as was the pale tan and short brown hair.

    It was Zee.

    Eli nced at the clock. It said it was three in the afternoon, September 29. There was an expectation of light rain in the evening.

    Did he sleep awayst night and most of the day?

    He disengaged security and pulled open the door. "I wondered who''d forgotten that these things have doorbells and was banging like a monkey on the walls. It turns out it''s just you."

    Zee blinked at him. "You don''t have a doorbell."

    He didn''t have a doorbell?

    Eli bought this apartment. He''d made sure there was a doorbell!

    He stepped out of the apartment and inspected the door panel. There was a piece of tape over a button and a scrawl that was not his handwriting that said ''Out of Order''.

    Huh. "I don''t have a doorbell."

    Zee studied him, frowning slightly. "You forgot?"

    Eli tensed a bit, remembering that this time nine years ago, he was the gloomy, silent spectre who lurked in the darkest corner of every gathering. And Zee could be incredibly perceptive at times.

    "I''m sick," he reasoned, leaning against the doorway and crossing his arms.

    Zee still looked worried, but smiled sheepishly. "You look terrible."

    "And yet, I''m still more handsome than you."

    The person behind Zee snickered. "Dream on, loser."

    Eli peered at the second visitor nkly for a moment. Dark auburn hair, vampire pale skin, and eyes that were a darker brown than his own.

    Her lips curled half-mockingly as he studied her. Oh. He recognized her btedly.

    This was Marai, whose family lived on the same floor as Zee''s family.

    Her parents had been fast friends with Eli''s mother until the end.

    Their children, on the other hand, were not.

    "Ah," Eli said. "You."

    Her brows furrowed. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

    She''d never liked him. He''d never liked her.

    She had cause, honestly.

    Eli didn''t think he liked what his former personality had been as well. As for Eli, he didn''t like her because she was always dragging him to ces he''d rather not be in ¨C which only added to the gloomy lurking reputation.

    With eight years of perspective, Eli knew it was her way of getting him to shake off the depression.

    That didn''t mean he would let her off, the pushy woman.

    He turned to Zee and tonelessly asked. "Coming down here with a thug in tow, is this where you tell me the syndicate is unhappy and has rescinded the offer I can''t refuse?"

    "Pfft!" Zee coughed.

    "What did you say?!" Marai started pping both their shoulders, as Zee tried to stifle hisughter (mostly unsessfully) and redirect all her hits toward Eli (mostly sessfully). Bastard.

    "Ow. Ow, hey, hey!" Eli backed into his apartment, using his arm as a shield. "That hurts you know?"

    She stopped immediately, setting the offending hand on her hip as she studied him sharply. "You''re really sick?"

    "No," he said, resentfully rubbing his trusty shield arm. "I just said so to get out of an interview."

    "That''s what I thought," she said, bluntly. "You get nervous about the strangest things."

    Ouch. He had a reputation as a weirdo at this point in his life, didn''t he?

    "I was joking," he said tly.

    "You do really look sick," Zee chimed in as he followed them in and closed the door.

    "You thought the same?!" Eli whirled to him, betrayed, then noticed the box he held in his hand. "Wait, how did you evade the pping demon with a handicap?!"

    Zee smiled brightly. "I learned one-armed aikido from a secret master down at the docks."

    Marai snorted. "You can''t even handle the rats at the docks, you ran away from a fish once."

    Eli had honestly forgotten that Zee was like this; a strange mixture of sass and shyness. "Let me guess, the secret master had only one arm?"

    "Of course. How else could one-armed aikido be taught?"

    "Are you sure you didn''t just get drunk at one of your crazy cafe jobs and lose a fight with a slot machine?"

    Marai snickered as she started helping Eli set out tes.

    Eli tried not to react in surprise. He remembered Marai as antagonistic more often than not. This wasn''t something she would do, right?

    Not the Marai that Eli remembered, at least.

    Which led to a question: could he trust his memories of the people here?

    A moment of thought, and he shrugged.

    He''d treat them as they treated him. He watched, a growing fondness at the nostalgic familiarity of them taking root in his chest.

    Zee ced a hand on his chest, looking gravely offended. "Novelty caf¨¦s are a historical tradition, which are used to preserve cultural snapshots of our ancestors'' lives that might have been otherwise tragically lost to the river of time."

    "He likes those jobs the best because he gets showered with tips just for his pretty face," Marai needled. She boosted herself on one of the kitchen stools, crossed her legs and leaned against the counter.

    Eliughed lightly as Zee red at them both, cing the box he was holding on the ind counter that separated the kitchen space from the living room area.

    "Is that cake?"

    "You asked for it, you got it." Zee nced at him briefly, then looked away.

    The guy, really. Won one of the most coveted spots in one of the most covetedpanies in the city, and was worried about Eli taking offense?

    ¡­actually, that was just what happened thest time.

    He''d really been an idiot.

    Eli smiled softly, sitting down at the counter. "Congrattions. When do you start work?"

    Zee quickly took the stool between them, his expression brighter. "Monday. But one of the guys there said I could go on Friday and Saturday to follow him around and get a feel for the ce."

    "He means he shamelessly suckered one of the executives there to let him tag along on officialpany business," Marai interjected.

    "Good work," Eli said sincerely. "If you''re not cheating, you''re not doing your best."

    Zee sputtered. "It''s not cheating!"

    "It''s one of the best work cultures in the city, ording to the news," Mara shrugged casually, a sly smile briefly on her face. "They probably take all the cheating high-initiative brazen-faced overachievers into stride."

    Eli cut the cake, hiding his grin.

    "That''s apliment." Zee said it suspiciously, looking for the catch.

    "If you choose to take it as such," was the faux-snooty answer.

    Eli slid tes filled withrge slices of rum fruitcake with custardyers to the others and, before they devolved into more bickering, ordered them to eat with one word.

    "Cake."

    "Cake," they agreed, and stuck their forks into the decadent dessert.

    Softly moist, intoxicating, fruity and not too sweet. The taste brought back memories that Eli savored.

    They''d moved to this apartment five years ago, him and his mother, just after Eli had acquired his first bonus from thepany.

    His mother had been one of the only parents in the building who didn''tmute to work and so was, to her happiness, the go to babysitter for the half-dozen or so children under the age of thirteen in the building, several of which were from Marai and Zee''s families.

    About the time Eli came home, Marai and Zee would be there to pick up various small rtives and on particr days, like if his mother caught wind of something to be celebrated, the three of them would sit like this eating his mother''s rum torte while an assortment of brats lounged about the living room.

    Come to think of it, Zee was probably surprised Eli asked for cake with fruit and rum.

    He hadn''t eaten it in two years, at this point. Nine years by his perspective. Oh, the dwarvir had rum syrup muffins, bigger than a fist, but it just wasn''t the same.

    Eli took another bite, and felt his cares wash away.

    He had healed from his deep depression because being mentally impaired was not conducive to survival on Zushkenar. It said bad things about him, probably, that it took an apocalypse and nearly two years of very in another world to get him to be better.

    He''d been lower than rock bottom.

    Literally, too. There were some forced mining and sewer quests that¡­

    Well, he was definitely not the same Eli as the Eli of this time.

    Zee and Marai would only think that he had an epiphany and was slowly healing from losing his mother and his job, hopefully.

    The news report turned on, the crystal ss partition bing opaque as the scheduled program started up. Eli''s hand twitched and he paused as business and financial news droned on.

    He breathed deeply. Instincts weren''t easily left behind.

    He''d almost tried to draw a sword.

    The depression was gone and he was mentally healthier in that regard, but there was no denying he was messed up in different ways after thest eight years.

    Heughed at himself bitterly in his head.

    "I can''t believe you find this interesting," Zee snorted as he eyed the presenter on the screen talk about the poprity of the ECRU as the leading reserve currency of the year.

    ECRU was short for ''economic currency unit'' and was used as the standard exchange value between Earth and the space colonies.

    "You should listen to the space economics news now." Eli said, raising his brows. "You can use the info as icebreakers at HI if nothing else."

    "Really? Clich¨¦."

    "That''s the point." But he obligingly changed the channel. A disaster relief documentation came on, and he changed it immediately. A Rends promotion shed into view and Eli paused.

    He was about to change it, when Zee spoke.

    "You know, Enzo somehow got me and Cenree a spot in a limited beta for the gamest year? It was amazing. So amazing. The professors at school let us experience Halfworld every now and then, you know? And Rends was so much better with rendering color and sensation. It was great. Their AI must beplicated, but I haven''t managed to hear even a little about the codes. I mean," Zee waved his hands. "they''re proprietary, I know, but there''s so little news other than to say they''re some of the most powerful AI created!"

    Eli expected the bright-eyed gushing about something tech rted, but not the sullen pout of a kid denied dessert. He chuckled. "RSI is one of the most advanced AI creators in the world."

    Zee nodded, resigned. "I wanted to apply there too, but the benefits package HI offered was better. For me at least."

    The benefits package offered by HI was incredible. And they rarely did open applications, preferring to headhunt from colleges and other businesses, so when the opportunity was offered, thousands jumped at the chance.

    "So, not just hype, all the Rends promotions stered over the city?" Marai asked, interested.

    Eli was fairly sure Marai joined the game at some point. Zee did too. In fact, the neuro-virtual headgear Eli used to first ess Rends was given to him by Zee.

    He listened to them talk quietly.

    Does this mean they''d been in Zushkenar as well? He didn''t know their yer names, and never met anyone who looked like them. But he knew that one year from now, Rends was so popr there weren''t just 115 million yers. It was over 1 billion, in fact.

    So why were only 115 million yers transmigrated to Zushkenar?

    One fact that most transmigrated yers knew though: they all died within the first week of the Quake.

    So was that the limitation? The missing yers were left behind?

    Or was this just leaping to conclusions?

    He had insufficient data.

    He didn''t know how long the Quake went on, after all. But as someone who had personally seen his home city break apart and fall into an abyss, Eli knew the answer would be ''not long at all''.

    He cut another slice of cake, listened to the others talk, and tried not to think about it.

    "Wait," Marai interrupted something Zee was saying. "You already have an ount?"

    "RSI gave us a headgear set when the contract terminated. The processor on it isn''t as powerful when not supported by the bio-cradle, but it''s still incredible." Zee''s eyes were bright as he waved his fork around. "There are a few things I want to try to get some more oomph on the headgear processor but opening up the frame voids the warranty and a few other safeties I''d rather not do without so...it''s disappointing, really."

    The people in this building weren''t rich, justmon workers; the apartment was rtively cheap because it was built near the slums.

    Virtual reality tech wasmon in this era, but it was still a luxury. Buying two neuro-virtual headgear sets just to take them apart? That was extravagance.

    "Shortsighted of them," Eli said gravely. "To not consider the insane and rabid techheads in this world."

    "The rabidly insane who have coupons for the Rends website," Zee countered.

    "I''ll have to check with Tal," Marai said immediately. "But reserve two for me."

    Eli was¡­conflicted.

    Did he really want that again?

    Wasn''t he tired? He''d died twice already, and twice woke up from death to see himself in another world.

    But then, if he did nothing, his third death was certain.

    Did he want it to be hisst death?

    Without Rends, the chance of living past the Quake was so slim it was gossamer thread in the path of a flood.

    If he yed Rends and things happened as before, then his survival was so close to a guaranteed sess that it was all but gifted to him.

    Eli wanted tough. The gods were ying with him, surely.

    "Hey Zee, if you''re chronically sick and someone said that one month from now you''ll die, would you be happy or sad?"

    The other two stared at him. "Eli¡­?"

    He quickly determined their thoughts. "No, I''m not dying. Why would you think that, did you two eat a bad mushroom this morning?"

    Marai huffed. "I don''t like mushrooms. And if someone like you was suddenly so weirdly talkative after being sick and looking like they cried their eyes out over their tragic romantic lives, then suddenly asks that question out of nowhere, it''s a logical inference okay?!"

    "I didn''t cry!"

    Also, he''d never had a romance, in both his former lives. That was kind of pathetic of him, actually.

    "That''s what you focus on? Are you a child?"

    "I''m ¨C" ¡­thirty five years old, was what he was going to say. He quickly changed it. "always young at heart!"

    "Childish, you mean."

    "At least I''ll never pretend like I''m older than my age." He''d always be truthfully older than his physical age now.

    "My boyfriend," she narrowed her eyes warningly, "has something called sophisticated maturity."

    "It''s called ''I had a crush on my grandma that never went away and I''m acting like my grandpa so I can have someone like her'' syndrome!"

    "You take that back!"

    "I think I''ll be sad." Zee said contemtively, out of nowhere, fingers ying idly with his water ss.

    "Huh?" "What?"

    "I''ll be sad," he repeated. "A chronic sickness? After fighting so long, they say I''ll die? I won''t be resolved to that."

    Eli knew it was a bad idea, but still asked. "And if there was actually an afterlife waiting for you? Not heaven, not hell, but just life?"

    "Oh, uh¡­" Zee waved his arms silently, thinking. "Are you¡­are you asking if I want to live forever?"

    Marai sighed. "Do you?"

    "I don''t." Zee shook his head. "But as long as I''m not glutted on the experience of living, then I think a life after death would be great."

    Eli exhaled augh. "As long as you''re not glutted on the experience of living, was it?"

    Of course Zee would say the right words. That was it, exactly.

    He could always die. After all, everything died. But to do nothing when there was one certain way out of death, just because he was a bit tired?

    That was just massively stupid. He had survived the Quake that destroyed Earth, he had survived over seven years in wartorn Zushkenar.

    Those experiences that created Eli and Scare, that led to the current him, was he willing to toss them away?

    There was much yet that he hadn''t seen. He might have died twice, but he hadn''t lived the fullness of a single human lifespan. Even if he experienced a lot in a short time, wasn''t there still something new to see? Wait until he had a hundred years under his belt, then talk about being tired of life.

    "Eli?" Marai was watching him, eyes sharp.

    Oh, he just recalled, she had an aunt thatmitted suicide some years ago. Eli rubbed his eyes, feeling them sting. "You''re right."

    No, he definitely didn''t want to die yet.

    "Of course I am," Zee smiled smugly, but Eli saw the sh of hidden concern. "Now what was the question for?"

    "Something I was confused about, from the news," he said gruffly.. "Since you answered, then I''ll reward you by taking that coupon."

 Chapter 5 - Definitely Not Going To Mars

    Deciding to y Rends again, to take a second chance on a life in a different world, was one thing. Executing said decision was another.

    Even before the starting gate, there were some not so little roadblocks.

    First, his present body was weak.

    Used to an active, highly-athletic life in Zushkenar, Eli couldn''t help being disappointed.

    He panted for breath, bent over, bracing against the handholds of the exercise machine, the wheezing of hisbored breathing humiliatingly loud in the morning air.

    A passer-by on the jogging path of the outside park gym stopped to run in ce when he saw Eli. "Are you alright?"

    Eli lifted a hand from the machine without lifting his head to see the speaker and gave a silent thumbs-up.

    The jogger chuckled. "It''s only painful at first. But you started already. From here, it''s just one step at a time. Keep on!"

    Eli looked up, and breathed out a word painfully. "Thanks."

    A familiar-looking middle-aged man grinned at him and jogged away. Wearing a singlet and stretchy pants, Eli could see the jogger''s lithe and lean muscles rippling.

    Tsk. Eli felt a resentful envy suddenly. His former body had been like that too.

    Wait, wasn''t that one of the people who lived in his building? Jogger neighbor, you don''t mind if I use your body as motivation, right? We''re good neighbors, after all.

    ¡­that sounded wrong didn''t it.

    Well, it wasn''t as if he''d said it out loud.

    He red at the stalled one-hour beginner routine that was paused on the visual disy visor that covered one eye. The virtual instructor mimicking the positions he needed to copy was paused in aical pose.

    There were still just thirty minutes into the routine, and his muscles felt like they were rebelling with pitchforks.

    He paced his breathing, restarted the music, and started to move, the machine adding resistances and weights. He thought a two-hour routine would be easy, since in the first months after the Quake, he''d been able to walk between towns days apart without problem.

    Apparently game stats made a difference after the transmigration.

    Eli was determined to finish the routine.

    A VRMMORPG wasn''t just a game; at the topmost levels it was a high-intensity extreme sport where the fitness of the yer was one more advantage to in-game sess. It was a social andpetitive experience that increasing numbers of corporate leaders were turning to in order to promote cohesiveness and teamwork in their employees.

    It wasn''t just business people.

    Human beings thrive in conflict; push themselves to attain greater and greater heights withpetition.

    Virtual reality provided an almost unlimited sky for that particrly human drive.

    Especially since in thest century, the sports and travel industries had changed.

    Environmental preservation concerns meant that certain extreme outdoor sports and tourism activities were banned because they damaged the sustainability of the natural world.

    Because of the poption booming to nine billion people, spectator sports had to change to amodate the increase in creative ways as stadiums and sports centers were low on the infrastructure priorities. Popr travel spots had to limit visitors for the safety of both the people and the sites.

    Virtual reality gave the world an answer.

    VR gaming was now the arena for those humans whoughed on the edge of danger, who flung themselves at new horizons, for there was a new world where they could ce their life on the line again and again; high stakes and high rewards, an exhrating existence.

    VR worlds started to be more and moreplex, with increasing effort and resources spent on aesthetics and atmosphere.

    Rends, supported by the tech giant RSI, was not the most popr game in the beginning, but it was one of the most bnced and detailed worlds in the virtual sphere.

    It was a work of art, one thatmentators would soon describe as an obra maestro of the virtual industry.

    The creator of Rends was meticulous.

    Orven Norge was the son of a traditional woodcarver, enamored with old crafts, regretting the loss of ancient skills so much that he ced all the data and knowledge he could gather into a learning fantasy-based crafting game named Rends Craftmasters where different races held different crafting skills.

    It debuted in November of 2091.

    This was the foundation for the incredible detail of the Rends game, where realworld skills and knowledge were an edge that couldn''t be bought.

    And when the game was acquired by RSI in 2093, thepany retained Orven Norge and his vision, even as they added warcraft to the generally peaceful world of Craftmasters.

    That was why every good Rends yer cleaved to the ancient wisdom of a healthy body supporting a healthy mind. Peak physical skills gave the character avatar added benefits in the game.

    The art and multifaceted game mechanics was one reason for the game''s poprity. The other was that it was possible to earn real money ying Rends.

    Other VR games did have in-game currency to cash transactions, but RSI took a step further and announced that they had registered the in-game coinage, the golden drax, as a cryptocurrency and it passed the Interpol IAFFS tests designed tobat digital fraud.

    That was something that no game had ever done before.

    It conveyed RSI''s almost arrogant assurance in the sess and continued operation of Rends.

    It meant that the underlying mechanics of the game were detailed more extremely than anyone expected.

    It meant that the artificial intelligences used to manage the game were the best in the world.

    It meant tons of gold was tossed almost negligently into a niche fantasy game.

    Thebination of reckless corporate power and artistic stubbornness created a game world that at its peak had attracted over 1 billion active yers.

    Compared to augmented reality games and the still thriving mobile console games, the number of Rends yers was indeed low. But the full gear for augmented reality games cost ten times less than a single neuro-virtual headset.

    And that was number two of Eli''s problems.

    The total bnce of all his bank ounts, investments, and insurance ounts came to just 8136 in cash. That was enough to pay the basic rent and utilities for 8 months ¨C if food and various small purchases were added, then it wouldn''tst four months.

    More relevantly, it was barely enough to cover the cost of buying a Rends game ount subscription for one year, and definitely not nearly enough to buy a decent NV headgear.

    Eli staggered off the exercise machine and took in great gasps of the fresh air in the park. The open-air park gym was located not five minutes from the apartment building. He''d never used it before.

    Hindsight, he cursed as he stood there with trembling limbs and dripping with sweat, was a rotting cackling hag.

    He tapped the disy to his schedule, which optimistically set his morning exercise n to ''daily'', and removed a few slots to leave alternate days highlighted.

    He wasn''t doing this again tomorrow.

    Maybe alternate the exercise with a sword-wielding ss or some other weapon. Historical reenactment was always popr. Knowing weapons was a long-term investment that will pay off both in Rends and Zushkenar.

    Wasn''t Zee''s friend Jori a sword nut? He essed the Inte to look for a studio nearby.

    He paused.

    Did he really want to be a Swordbearer again?

    He remembered the feel of knives digging into his flesh.

    Eli''s hand trembled and his heartbeat, already pumping madly, threatened to choke him. He clenched his fist and forcibly got himself under control.

    Maybe not a Swordbearer.

    He closed off the search.

    It wasn''t like he had been a very good one anyway.

    Maybe something with more range? A mage ss of some kind.

    He started a stretching cooldown.

    What to choose?

    The third problem was that, unfortunately, Eli really hadn''t been a true yer. He''d only been ying a week before the Quake struck. He''d barely cleared Lvl 10.

    That meant he didn''t have the advantage of in-depth game knowledge and experience. Thest time, he hadn''t even touched the forums apart from checking which yer ss was the easiest to level. It wasn''t like he knew he''d travel back in time and need all that information!

    As for why he was back in time in the first ce¡­Eli didn''t want to think too hard about it.

    The facts were that he was here, back in time or in a dimension that approximated his Earth. There was only one choice: will you live or will you die?

    He had chosen the path of life, the path that would lead him back to Zushkenar.

    And on that path, the many concerns boiled down to one consideration: money.

    Walking back to his building, Eli slumped as idea after idea was discarded in his mind.

    "This is a bit more difficult than I thought."

    After he showered, he wilted on the kitchen counter with a bowl of freeze-packaged beef noodle soup he''d found in the fridge and microwaved.

    The news turned on.

    "¡­minor tremors in southern India, Sri Lanka, and Madagascar due to the magnitude 5.2 earthquake in the Indian Ocean. The epicenter ¨C"

    Eli turned off the news.

    He remembered, abruptly. Not this specific piece of news. He remembered hearing about tremors and minor earthquakes for a year before the Quake struck.

    As if the ''small'' earthquakes were heralds for the biggest one, the one that killed the world.

    "It doesn''t change anything."

    He wasn''t here to save the world.

    Despite his optimism of yesterday, he wasn''t even sure he could save himself.

    The fate of the world was set.

    Through the clear ss of the window, he looked up at the sky.

    There were colonies in space. On Mars alone, there were one billion people. On the two space station cities hovering above Jupiter and the research station moons, maybe a tenth of that number in total.

    All those colonies were rated to be self-sufficient, and a third space station was being built. If Earth was destroyed, humanity would still survive in this universe.

    He reached for his phone, tapped open a browser. He searched the price of a ticket to Mars, then twitched at the number of zeroes that appeared.

    A round-trip ticket to Mars and back was sold at 100,000 ECRU. One way cost 40,000 ecru. The exchange rate...

    It might as well have been a million.

    He scrolled down the page, grimaced at what he saw.

    The ticket price was not the only cost for a single jaunt into space.

    There was a detailed breakdown of space-prep and after-travel care that came to about 15,000 ecru. That was ten times more than he had in his bank ount right now, after nearly six months of being jobless.

    That didn''t even include living expenses for however long the stay on Mars or the space cities was going to be. Cost of living on any Martian biodome was sky high. Not even going to talk about the cost to live in the colonies on the moons of the outers. Or the space stations.

    He groaned. Unless he could earn at least 250,000 ecru and a job in the space colonies, then immigrating was not for him. He couldn''t even find an office job on Earth, dammit, what job would he be qualified for in space?

    He knew how to tan ratskin leather, did that count?

    He paused, then tapped a search on the browser, a frown on his face.

    Stared at the resulting page for the Rends game.

    Regr ount: 175 ecru/month or 1759.9 ecru/year

    Premium ount: 225 ecru/month or 2259.9 ecru/year

    He could say this about those prices:pared to going to Mars, it was super-cheap.

    Eli had already decided on seeing what he could do in Rends, anyway. At least there, he knew some of what to expect after the Quake.

    The game to Eli was about gathering resources for when Rends was made real.

    Because after the Quake, former yers learned that they still held the positions of their game avatars, still had their possessions and properties, and the former NPCs they talked to knew them ording to their actions in the game.

    Let others save themselves. Eli had enough to worry about. Worrying about others would onlypromise his safety.

    He needed to grow strong enough and rich enough in Rends that people would not think of pushing him around after the inevitable transmigration.

    Eli sat back in his chair nkly, soup spoon paused.

    Wow, he wasn''t that a good person, huh?

    His lips curved up suddenly, self-deprecating.

    He took out the handheld disy and tapped to where the news stories on the quakes were archived, then started to type.

    >>these are concerning. prelude to a greater disaster? better invest in more spaceships and expand the colonies.<<

    His fingers stopped.

    That wasn''t nearly enough. Eli tapped the counter, thinking. Then he closed the keyboard and opened a website, paid for one year of operation. The only program he added to the website apart from the standard package was a crawler, that searched and coted locations of earthquakes magnitude-7 or greater on a timeline, based on news reports and the sites that monitored the earth crust.

    His jaw tightened as the crawler immediately ced six on the timeline, and he''d set the program to initiate from just thest month.

    He ignored the particrs, published the site, and put his phone away. Unconsciously, his fingers started tapping on his thigh. He shook his head.

    He was only assuaging his conscience, so as to leave this world without regrets.

    He won''t save the world.

    What exactly could he do that the governments of 200 nations and the technologies of their space colonies could not?

    Heughed into his soup, suddenly.

    Was he, Eli the jobless loser, the great failure who botched over a hundred job interviews in a single year, who allowed himself to be enved for over a year, thinking of running against the deadline of the destruction of the world?

    Now, now, wasn''t he thinking too much of himself?

    The corners of his lips lifted higher.

    So what? There was something in him that was anticipating the challenge, rising in curiosity. Haaaah, when was thest time he''d ever felt this interested in doing something?

    When his mother was alive, likely.

    The loss had dulled after years trying to survive in the massive warzone that was Zushkenar, but here, back in the ce that he had bought especially because it was near a hospital she could easily walk to and near his father''s grave, the ache returned like it had never left.

    The furnishing, the d¨¦cor. His mom had carefully chosen each one when they both moved here. Five years ago in the summer, he''d been promoted. The apartment was on the outskirts of the slums, but it was better than being in the slums themselves, the street the apartment was in even had private security.

    Thest time he''d anticipated something so excitedly was when he presented her the apartment.

    He shook his head from old memories.

    He needed to think of the future now.

    He had the advantage of a year and four months.

    That time given to him, it was dearer than gold or magic.

    He could do this.

    He started to dig into the Rends forums for research.

    Based on his life in Zushkenar, he started researching advantages:nd, trade, social status, moneymakers, skills, and character creation.

    Surprisingly, there was too little lore. Even he knew advertisements had limited utility. Dedicated yers needed to immerse themselves in the game, needed a hook, a story, a world.

    Gazzy once said belief held worlds together.

    Eli didn''t think it would help this time. Historians said that humans had killed their gods long ago, didn''t they? What gods were there now to pray to but empty husks?

    The lore of Rends wasn''t his problem.. He ignored it for more useful information.

 Chapter 6 - Ill Be Hunting Monsters

    There were two major parts to the full VR gaming rig: the neuro-virtual headset and the bio-cradle.

    Technically, the virtual world could be essed just by the NV headset. To allow the user to connect to a virtual simtion, the NV headset induced a state of trance reportedly somewhere between a meditative state and a deep sleep state.

    This trance was the reason why some Halfworld yers had been able to log up to 50 hours nonstop on virtual tforms, at least until recorded health risks had virtual gamingpanies forced to institute hard limits on log-time within their systems.

    This was apromise betweenpanies and the government, intended to maintain the health of the user.

    The bio-cradle was designed to reduce the stress the use of the virtual system ced on the body, as using the headset without the bio-cradle for more than the allotted amount of time induced massive muscr disorientation when disconnecting plus muscle strain and stiffness.

    It was a fancy recliner-type chair, with the outer appearance curving like a snail shell.

    With the bio-cradle and headset together, the user was allowed 20 hours of virtual time before the system turned unresponsive for the remaining four hours of the day.

    Without the bio-cradle, the virtual hours allowed to the user of just the headset fell to 12 hours total per day.

    Eli had no ns topete for the top yer listings.

    After living in war-ravagednd for years he had no wish to contribute to the wars. Rends may be a game, but he had only yed that game for a week before the NPCs became flesh and blood.

    He was not averse to killing; it was needed to survive in Zushkenar, after all. But to cut down people just for quest rewards? He''d feel that he was nothing more than the bandits he greatly despised.

    Even if the Rends NPCs were code right now.

    Unfortunately, he needed money.

    And the most lucrative craft in Rends at present was war.

    The craftmasters of the previous iteration of the game were skilled and established, but the crafting and battle systems had not been integrated.

    Yet.

    There was some spection in the future over thete craft upgrade, why it came ten months after the Masters of War expansion was introduced.

    Some thought the war expansion was offered upleted because there was a problem with the integration but thepany forced the release anyway.

    Others thought the expansion was released early because another popr game was nning an upgrade at the same time, and RSI wanted to cut them off.

    Still others thought thete update was to give the battlers a chance of a foothold in a world that crafters already dominated.

    There were other rumors but he''d only skimmed the forums. No one knew definitive facts anyway.

    He only remembered because when he joined the game in thest timeline, already months after the craft upgrade, the mood was still high. The craft sses and subsses that used to be important only to role-yers and adherents of Craftmasters suddenly were so imperative to the efforts of war.

    But he couldn''t choose crafting now, not full time. Even if in the future crafters would be as important as battlers, he needed greater battle skills to be able to protect himself in Zushkenar.

    The craft update would be in eight months.

    That was too little time to level up a crafting ss to where he would be able to profit from the advantage of that knowledge. Not to mention, the middle crafting levels were a moneysink.

    And he still didn''t have a gaming rig.

    Eli grimaced.

    The only high-level skills he had were leatherworking and forestry. A consequence of being forced into drudgery after transmigration.

    He breathed deep the old rage at the thought of Findrakon, that damned guild that used their fellow transmigrators like tools until they broke.

    He''d really been too trusting.

    Well, if they were created in this timeline again, he''d been part of a sessful ve rebellion once, hadn''t he? His sharp smile grew wide enough to show teeth.

    This time, he won''t be so helpless.

    "Who needed a guildn''s protection anyway?"

    He could do this on his own.

    Eli didn''t want to battle other people, didn''t want those instincts ingrained into him, but he had no qualms about mass killing the fantasy beasts that roamed Zushkenar.

    None at all.

    In Rends, the beginner quests often started at monster hunting. Bing part of an army or a war n was more lucrative so few remained as monster hunters after leaving the starting viges.

    That meant there would be littlepetition for prey.

    It would be difficult, even then.

    There wasn''t even a subss titled ''monster hunter''.

    He''d be mostly making it up as he went along.

    Eli thought about it.

    Why not?

    It sounded fun.

    It would also take best advantage of his forestry and leatherworking skills.

    It sounded very fun.

    He decided. "A monster hunter."

    Let''s do it.

    After eight months, the war ns would create hunter-crafter subguilds to take advantage of the update.

    Before then, he had to be established. He had to level both battle skills and craft skills to a usable level.

    A challenge.

    Eli had no ns topete for the top yer listings, but he needed to be a high-level yer when the Quake came. Realworld skillsets gave a yer an edge in Rends, and in-game skills were massive advantages in Zushkenar.

    Twelve hours of ytime a day wasn''t enough.

    He needed a full rig.

    He opened a tab for the RSI website.

    He stared, then grumbled. "Since when did people be so brazen, openly robbing others in broad daylight?"

    Since RSI purchased Rends, they also had released a few Rends-themed NV headgear.

    Rends NV-headsets cost in the range of 5000 to 40,000 ecru.

    Five thousand ecru was enough to buy a studio apartment in one of the cheap areas of the city.

    In Rends, it was easier to earn money as a new yer than all the other virtual games in the world. But not enough to justify the prices of the gaming gear.

    This was why leveling was so important to many yers. Only top yers profited from Zushkenar. A gamer in the top 100,000 rankings could earn thousands of ecru a year by just ying the game.

    It wasparable to the sry of the average office worker in argepany. And that was before the money that could be earned by taking advantage of the dedicated Rends video portal.

    It was the media portal that gained the attention of the world. RSI set up a dedicated site just for Rends yers and encouraged them to post their battles and their in-game exploration.

    It was a great idea.

    If Rends yers had posted their videos on shbang, the most popr video portal in the world, their efforts would have been lost among the thousands of other incredible videos on the site.

    On RedVisor, the RSI media site, all the broadcasts showed off the truly extraordinary visuals of Rends. And with the incredible fight scenes against that backdrop, which viewer couldn''t be interested?

    With the viewcount on the media portal increasing exponentially with every day, businesses started circling like sharks smelling blood in water.

    The idea of sponsorships for the top yers was already starting to circle in corporate rumors and the business pages.

    Eli shook his head.

    Rends wasn''t popr enough yet to gain sponsorships for the elite yers, but it was only a matter of time.

    In a few more months, those headsets would be selling like hotcakes as more yers started to profit from the game.

    He paused when he saw the description box for one of the headsets - it would give an additional subss slot. The Lazybones headset looked like it was geared to appeal to the old yers of craft-heavy Rends, many who boycotted or stopped ying when the first advertisements of the Masters of War expansion appeared.

    Eli might have yed Rends for just a week, but even he knew that in the face of a game where battle was encouraged, the subsses were mostly considered useless.

    But not in Zushkenar.

    All the transmigrated yers had their skills transferred ording to their levels and proficiency.

    But the subss levels of each yer were enhanced by a magnitude, and those subsses were the reason many of the low-level yers didn''t die within the first year.

    Eli, as the yer Scare, had only survived those first few confusing weeks in another world because of the automatic knowledge that his ss skills gave him.

    That meant, in this game, he needed to gain as many subsses as he could.

    It didn''t even matter if he leveled them in-game as long as they would be useful to him after the transmigration.

    The character creation page offered the yer 3 subss slots as primary, which was more than enough for most yers. If a yer wanted to actively level all subsses, they''d be running around the ce all day every day and wouldn''t be able to keep up with leveling their battle ss.

    In Rends, the most effective builds for gaining cash in the shortest amount of time had a near-singr focus on the battle sses.

    Which was why the forum rmendations gave only two choices: be a battler or a crafter. Leveling both at the same time was stupid. Especially when leveling them at the same time from the beginning.

    "Ahaha¡­."

    It looked like Eli was going to be stupid about this.

    Hunting monsters in Rends wasn''t that lucrative, really. Not before the update. Also, some monster materials didn''t keep long. He needed to use them to craft something before they degraded.

    There were reasons Eli didn''t want to ustom himself to killing people. When the yers transmigrated, many continued the path they knew. That is, leveling and battling.

    It was unknown how many transmigrators died because they continued the inter-faction wars after the Quake.

    When Scare died in Zushkenar, themon consensus was that only two thirds of the transmigrators were still alive. That was only because many of the elite yers sued for peace about a year after the transmigration, nearly simultaneously from everynd in Zushkenar, confusing the locals greatly.

    Every race and nation in Zushkenar had Earthborn yers in it, and with that intangible bond between them managed to calm a good deal of the bloodlust between warring factions.

    Then there was Findrakon, which exploited the low-level yers and the former NPCs, but the bastard at the head of the group was an immortal cockroach that knew how toy low and keep away from the major conflicts. It was the reason the exploitative guild hadn''t been decimated by the faction wars and the fact that yers could no longer be resurrected.

    If he was a full battler and met those beasts¡­.ah, he didn''t have the time to fight against an entire guild.

    Not when the Quake was a year away. A year and four months.

    Eli thumped his fist on the counter rhythmically, eyes far in the distance, shaking the memories away.

    It was a moment before his attention returned to the Rendssite.

    The thought of joining a yer guildn caused something to twist in his gut.

    No. He didn''t have to think about it.

    Being a monster hunter, until the craft update there''ll be no one willing to party with him anyway.

    He tapped the image of the Lazybones headset, opening a greater description andments.

    >>even if you sh prices to ?, rsi, who''ll buy it?<<

    >>uh, it''s just the added subss slot that''s different from the base headgear? aaaand¡­it''s nearly the same price as a MarkIX?<<

    >>Yes. The Rends gear are all just themed merchandise. Better to buy original from the manugfacturer, sis. It''s cheaper.<<

    >>***k, this trash, y even still on list?<<

    >>so¡­you''re all new yers huh¡­<<

    >>[eyeroll.pix]<<

    >>from the manufacturer? little noobie idiot, you don''t know wat you''re saying. you''ll lose the rends bonuses if you do that.<<

    >>Roll. Roll into a fire and die.<<

    Thements degenerated after that, and Eli didn''t want to pick out the data from the name-calling. He closed the tab and checked the prices for bio-support recliners, also called bio-cradles. The cheapest that wasn''t an older model was a cool 11,500 ecru.

    Whoa. Maybe he could get one secondhand?

    The Lazybones headset cost 6999. A quick calction, rounded up for unforeseen problems, and he whistled at the price.

    Even at his oldpany job, it''d take him three years max to save that much.

    Where to get 20,000 ecru in a hurry?

    His phone pinged.

    Eli nced at the disy. It was the coupon code for a Rends discount from Zee.

    He quickly sent his thanks.

    The expiration date of the coupon was tomorrow. Tsk.

    He tapped into his financials. Why did he keep so many ounts after he''d been fired?

    Oh. Right.

    The Eli of nine years ago had been confident that he''d have a regr job sooner orter that he hadn''t been that frugal. Eli closed the extraneous ounts, transferring the contents to a single bank.

    He spent a few minutes filling in a form, and all his money was converted to ecru.

    1721 ecru.

    Hm. Disappointing. "It''s lower than I thought it would be."

    Then he remembered that he''d prepared pretty extensively for the HI interview, even buying a brand new business suit. Tapping to the ount history, he nearly choked when he saw the suit and various essories was 600 ecru. He''d forgotten about that extravagance. That was ten times his monthly food costs, wasn''t it?!

    600 ecru was 60,000 golden drax in Rends. That could buy some of the best NPC-made armor currently in the game shops.

    Eli flopped over the counter, groaning in regret, then flicked the offending page closed with a finger. He covered his eyes in despairing shame.

    He''d really thought he had a chance at Hareon Inteary, didn''t he.

    Haha. This was the kind of embarrassment you should feel when finding yourself back in your teens. Not your mid-twenties. What a fresh and ufortable experience. Negative review, would not rmend.

    Eli stood abruptly, went to the fridge. He twitched when he realized the shelves were bulgingly full of cans ¨C c, cold coffee, energy drinks, milk drinks. Now he knew why Zee had given him a weird look yesterday when he opened the thing.

    He noted that all the cans had the ''extra-sweetened''bel somewhere. What the hell, old me? Was there a sale at the supermart?

    The thought of drinking something ''extra-sweet'' made him think of the Zushkenari addictive drugs given to the war ves.

    "Why did no one stop me?" he muttered at the wall of drinks he probably wouldn''t be able to drink now.

    He held his phone up to one can, and the data on the product was automatically presented. "Apparently they''re limited edition. Can''t be ordered online."

    Eli stared at the can in his hand.

    "Limited edition¡­"

    There was only one response to that, for a poor person like him: online auction.

    He counted the cans, took pictures, and posted the data on the local shopping site. He cleaned up, and wandered about the house.

    Thirty minutester, he had more stuff posted on the shopping site, and a ping told him that the drinks had been bought at what he thought was the super-high asking price.

    He checked again. It was bought and the funds already in escrow.

    Huh. Maybe he should''ve gone higher.

    He went to find packing material, and connected to a local delivery site. Fifteen minutester, a delivery drone hovered at his window expectantly. He ced the package of drinks into it.

    An hourter, he had an additional 180 ecru in his ount and an added 5/5 star rating on the local shopsite.

    That was really fast.

    It wasn''t even mid-morning yet.

    Heughed. He''d gotten used to deliveries that could take days or weeks in Zushkenar that this speed was almost godly.

    Good humor restored, he paged to the Rends site to register.

    He bought a year''s premium subscription and got one month free. With the coupon code and an unexpected new ount bonus promo, he had a total of 35% off the purchase price.

    Excellent.

    He now had an ount but no way to y the game.

    Mm. How depressing.

    He rolled about on the couch and frowned at the screen showing the RSI Rends NV headsets.

    An advertisement popped up.

    He growled at it, then paused. It was an advertisement for a GatesTech MarkIX version NV-headgear.

    GatesTech was thepany that pioneered the virtual gaming headgear, and their dominance of the market continued for decades. They wereing out with a MarkIX version of their incredibly popr NV headset series around this time.

    "The MarkIX¡­"

    He remembered it because Zee was an avid virtual gamer and he''d nearly talked Eli''s ears off thest time around.

    They had a fight in thest timeline, after Zee was epted into HI and Eli wasn''t. He''d used Zee of deliberately sabotaging his interview preparation, always talking about VR games and GatesTech and whatever popr gear he was always muttering about nonstop.

    Shame suffused Eli''s being at the thought that he''d been formerly someone who ced the me for his failures on other people.

    Even if he could me other people, Zee was particrly unsuited to be a viin. He was the kind of idiot who would be attracted to heroics.

    And yet, at thest time they''d met in the other timeline, there was an edge to Zee that he hadn''t been used to.

    After experiencing Zushkenar, Eli wasn''t averse to the idea that the wars of Rends had honed certain aspects of survival in the yers. After all, one of the early uses of virtual reality was militarybat training.

    Thest time he saw Zee, he was more confident, the steel in his spine more evident, and that was one reason that Eli even tried the game.

    What did he have to do, to gain that kind of confidence?

    When Zee moved his sisters out of the building to a better living space, he knocked on the apartment and asked Eli to help him with an upgrade to his GatesTech MarkVIII headset because his hand was hurt.

    Eli had been lonely enough to agree, despite the dubiously bandaged hand Zee had been waving around, and the fact that they barely spoke to each other anymore.

    So he spent a day learning to jury-rig a neuro-virtual headset and listening to Zee talking about how in the GatesTech MarkV to MarkVIII, the premium and regr versions had simr software, only the outer shells and the hardware were markedly different.

    Zee had given that headset to Eli.

    Eli sat up, the idea refusing to die, slowly forming into a concrete n.

    Zee had bragged that his personally upgraded MarkVIII had a nearly simr performance to the MarkIX, and even outperformed the MarkVIII premium version.

    Eli didn''t know about that. But the upgrade had been remarkably simple.

    Everything else was gravy.

    He smiled.

    He searched the Inte. MarkVIII headset cube upgrade.

    There was nothing.

    Eliughed, triumphant. There was a path forward.

    He owed Zee a few great dinners for this.

    "Call, Joven Rigaton."

    His phone acknowledged.

    The call was picked up.

    "Crewan? This is you, right?"

    Ah, right. They had each other''s number, but never called each other before. "Yeah. Can you help me with something?"

    "Calling that favor in so fast? Good."

    "I need to rent a space for a couple of weeks. Semirge, enough for several long tables and an industrial synthprinter, plus extra. Oh, soundproof, if you can."

    "¡­is a basement alright?"

    "Yes. If the venttion''s working."

    "Sure. Just for you, 800 cash."

    "You know I said ''rent'', right?"

    "You think soundproofing''s easy?"

    Eli considered, then shrugged. "That''s about ny ecru, isn''t it? Alright."

    There was a surprised silence.

    "What?"

    "Something really is wrong with you. When Zee called, I thought he was exaggerating. You haggle prices with everything and everyone. Wait, are you really sick?"

    Eli ignored thest question. "Will it be avable today?"

    There was an impression of surprise and a shrug over the call. "Sure. Nothing exciting happening today anyway. I am," came the suddenly sarcastic tone, "entirely at your service, lord and master."

    "Great!" Eli''s lips curled upward. "I''ll see you¡­maybete afternoon. Minion."

    He ended the call.

    There were things to be done.

    Hunting monsters wasn''t going to be easy, after all.. And it was something he''d been doing soon enough.

 Chapter 7 - Illegal Acts And Nostalgia (1)

    He spoke too soon.

    Contrary to expectation, it took a month ofte nights, pretending not to see the incredulous looks from Jori, dodging Zee''s worried stalking, and ignoring Marai''s narrowed eyes before he could even create his Rends avatar.

    It went better than he thought it would.

    Mostly.

    He seeded, in any case. At the end of October, he had enough money to buy a full gaming rig and make a good enough start in Rends.

    The process went like this:

    Zee of the future taught Eli of the future how to upgrade a MarkVIII headset to better performance by recing its processor cube.

    Eli''s first thought when remembering that was, of course, trickery and illegal shenanigans.

    The MarkVIII and the MarkVIII Premium didn''t have thatrge a difference in performance. But the MarkVIII Premium headset was nearly twice the price of the regr MarkVIII.

    In the virtual world, even the smallest hardware advantage could mean sacrificing or oveing the thin line of difference between win and loss in a game. Skill and talent were important, of course, but there was a reason that VRMMORPGs were called games for the rich.

    Eli only needed the best synthprinter possible and enough cash for raw materials, and he''d be able to sell an upgraded MarkVIII as a MarkVIII Premium.

    And with the MarkIX justing out, the prices for a MarkVIII were dropping low enough for Eli to turn a good profit.

    That nned, the first step on that first day was to go to a loanshark.

    Eli was still surprised it was so easy to get himself into that much debt. Massive, massive debt. The devil''s office was even only a few streets away from his apartment.

    When he''d entered the loan office, he was only greeted with a face full of smoke and a question: "How much?"

    He decided to be as brief. "One hundred thousand. In ecru."

    The white-haired man paused, and he looked up from the unnervingly neat desk that only contained a single tabletputer with a thin smile. "nning a space vacation?"

    Eli stretched his lips in answer, an empty expression. "Does it matter?"

    "It does, in fact, matter." The smile tipped sharply, like a knife bnced on the edge.

    "No."

    The man snorted. Took a card-reader from a cab and programmed it with graceful artistic fingers. "Touch your ID to this. It better be real. We''ll wipe your data after you pay us back, of course."

    Eli dug into his pocket for his census registry card, something he''d never even took out of its holder since the government mailed it to him after he turned twenty-one and eligible to vote.

    The pale-haired man, whose name might be Chenser or Clomsen ¨C he couldn''t really see the certificate hanging on the wall, puffed a smoke ring and nudged the card-reader toward him.

    Eli pressed his ID card on the opaque panel of the small machine. He didn''t think he''d be rejected. He had no debts, no criminal record, and no blots on his financial history.

    He was the perfect patsy.

    He was also unemployed, but Eli didn''t think that was important to the guy entering information into the loan office database like he was stabbing someone.

    Somehow, when you tell your customers outright that you''d wipe their records from your systems that casually, people know there are things about you that they can count on.

    Shady, shady things.

    Like ignoring employment status just to have another concussed fish to possibly dangle on the end of your line.

    Sure enough, twenty minutester, Eli walked out with enough money in his ount to buy his whole building and a man that looked like a serial killer knowing his address.

    He walked away, trying not to look back, and reminded himself that he''d only regret this if he defaulted on the payments.

    That only meant, he must not fail.

    His phone pinged as he turned the corner.

    He brought up the disy.

    His search for high-grade synthprinters in the area, rent or sale, came up with two suitable candidates, but only one had an appraiser''s rating.

    He closed out the one without the rating.

    The one left was a sale of 10,000 ecru, portable industrial ss, with a 4-star rating from the appraiser. He hesitated, then took a breath and sent a message to the seller:

    >>Hi, I''m interested in the machine. Pickup today, cash?<<

    An industrial synthprinter was cheap at that price. And the appraiser''s mark was recent. He didn''t want to miss it.

    He started back to the apartment, walking slowly. The buildings around him werefortingly enclosing ¨C not a bit like the wide-open spaces of Zushkenar. Eli had been born in Greatcentral City, had grown up here. His parents and their parents had grown up here. He walked slowly, engraving the city back into his bones.

    It had been years since these streets were lost to him.

    They were exactly the same.

    Noisy, full of people, full of moving advertisements, lots of sharp blinking lights even in daytime. It was about noon, and everything was a frantic hurrying pace around him. He''d garnered not a few res for his ambling walk on a business street full of people doing lunch or lunch meetings.

    "Eli!"

    Across the street, Zee waved from the door of a bistro, motioning him over. The few faces pressed against a window behind him were vaguely familiar. Oh hey, that was the Hazelnutsward bistro, wasn''t it?

    Well, it was noon. He should eat.

    Eli turned, making the person who was behind him curse and sidestep, and retread his path to the marked crossing before jogging to the other side. There was a difference between a slow walk on a pedestrianne and a slow walk on a intersection that was already lit green.

    Zee did his familiar half-smile greeting. "I saw you trying to annoy the business lunchers, and decided to save you from their retribution."

    "Their eyes looked like they were getting to the fire and brimstone level," Eli agreed.

    He followed Zee to the table by the window.

    The bistro was self-serve, an airy yetfortable ambiance. He took one long look around, discreetly wistful. His mom liked the burgers here, but couldn''t eat a whole one, so every time they came Eli was stuffed with one and a half of their Gigantiers.

    There were two people he didn''t know or remember mixed in with others he did. "Hey all. Celebrating?"

    He noted Marai wasn''t present, but the unforgettable genial gentlemanly stoneface of her boyfriend Tal sat nearest the window. Who kept up a smile all the time like that guy? Creepers, that''s who.

    That other techhead guy that was part of Eli''s recollection of Zee''s friend group wasn''t there. Good. That guy was a jerk.

    "On Jori''s left is Sian Lange, and on his right is Rashid Li." Zee chivvied Eli into a seat and dropped an unopened Gigantier burger in front of him.

    Jori nced at him, but only nodded.

    Eli decided to go with his lead. "Thanks. New colleagues?"

    "They are."

    "Congrattions. I''m Elias Crewan. You can just call me Eli."

    A Gigantier was a massive tower of meat and sauces, pickled vegetables and cheese, between toasty buttered bread. It was their regr burger offering.

    He started cutting his into manageable slices, ncing around briefly.

    Both of Zee''s new friends were seriously pretty. What the hell.

    Sian Lange had dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes. Even dressed in a casual summer dress and cardigan, she had an air about her that said ''cross me at your peril''.

    Did someone upset her? Jori, who was beside her, didn''t look ufortable, so maybe that was her default.

    Eli was a little surprised at the name. Zee of the original timeline mentioned he''d just been engaged to a Sian thatst time they met before the Quake.

    Was this her then?

    He didn''t think they were friends this early. But then, with Eli''s reaction to the HI results in thest timeline, it was reasonable that he''d never met Zee''s work friends.

    She had a Tyrannitar before her, which was a burgerrger than the Gigantier, and with extra-spicy sauce besides.

    Respect. Eli gave her a silent thumbs up.

    Rashid Li was sitting beside Jori, who was pale-haired, pale-skinned, and pale-eyed, and the contrast between them was eye-catching. He had one half of a Gigantier before him, plus two massive servings of fries drenched half to sogginess by a mess of sauces.

    Half of the fries were likely from his female colleague''s te.

    Rashid''s soulful brown eyes and Jori''s cool grey gaze fixed on him, the first curious and the second calcting.

    Aha, Jori was suspicious of Eli looking for a quiet basement, and probably his evening stroll in the slums. There was a slight distance hidden under the sharp eyes. Aha, so those memories weren''t wrong.

    Eli was unlikable to all Zee''s friends, it seemed. It was only that Marai wanted to change Eli, that she had so much contact with him.

    "Hi." Eli nodded at them simply and took a bite of burger.

    Apart from Jori and Tal from Zee''s friend group, there was Cenree, who Eli didn''t know that well. She was part of Zee''s techhead group, who Eli had never had much contact with.

    She leaned over Zee, who was between them, to squint at Eli.

    "You look like a vampire," she said.

    Eli met her gaze, then chomped down on his burger, letting the sauces ooze on all sides, not looking away.

    Her grin was like lightning, a sh of white teeth against dark skin. "Baby, buy me dinner first."

    "Cenree," Zee sighed as he dropped his face into his hands. His ears were red.

    Cenreeughed, poked at the red tinged cheeks between Zee''s fingers.

    Eli just shrugged and continued to eat.

    He could see though, that he''d interrupted the flow of conversation from before.

    Zee''s friends knew him but were used to him keeping quiet so their conversations mostly bypassed him.

    The two new people didn''t know him, but they picked up on the air of the others when they tried to talk to him.

    Zee was keeping the conversation afloat, but despite how many friends he had Zee wasn''t really the kind of person who wasfortable with casual social interaction.

    The tech-brained nerd.

    Eli sighed inwardly, then caught Rashid''s eye. "Is that a craftmaster badge?"

    He''d seen the little pin fastened to the buttonhole of the man''s shirt, under his jacket. It was familiar because he''d once earned one in Zushkenar just months before he time-traveled.

    Rashid looked at him, some excitement sparking in his eyes. "Do you y Craftmasters?"

    "I don''t, no." Eli picked his words carefully, suddenly remembering that the recent expansion to the game had prized opinion in the gaming world. "I might join Rends though."

    Rashid looked resigned and irritated. But not at Eli. "The game is too different now."

    "The forums had a lot of spection, but I can''t think that someone who loves Craftmasters as much as Orven Norge reportedly does would abandon crafting."

    Rashid looked curious now. "Do you then believe he was forced to sell?"

    "I think he wanted the game to survive." Eli thought about the vague impressions he got in the future, and the me wars in the forums at present. "Given the choice on whether to allow the game to grow or keep it static for years more, he chose evolution."

    The olive-skinned craftmaster smiled. "If that is so, then why the current emphasis on battle mechanics?"

    Eli shrugged. "Ran out of time? It''s been two years since RSI bought Rends, after all. There might be a rollout of upgrades in theing months."

    "You think there''ll be a crafting resurgence in the future. Possibly a simr expansion." The other''s brows lifted. "You have bold theories, considering you haven''t yed the game yet."

    "You don''t think it''s logical, considering Norge is still part of the development team?"

    Eli closed his mouth, nced at Zee, who had offered that question before Eli could say anything.

    "RSI''s contribution to the project is too confident," said Tal said, his smile not changing in the slightest. "Some might say it weighs too much on thepany''s side. Norge is only an employee."

    Zee''s eyes lit up, and a lively debate started on the future of Rends.

    It was still too tame for Zee''s usual group though, so Eli interjected earnestly into a debate, "It could be aliens."

    Cenree pped one hand on the table, pointed at Eli with the other. "Don''t talk aliens into this!"

    It was Sian, unexpectedly, who med the ze. "Yes. Giant automatons are more likely."

    Now Eli knew why she and Zee got engaged in the future.

    Cenree choked in outrage. "What did you say?! You and me,e on!"

    The bistro was used to them causing a ruckus every now and then, so all the other tables ignored them. It was likely only because the owner was a rtive of Jori that they didn''t get banned.

    Eli believed the Hazelnutsward bistro had a reputation in this time''s local social media: if you can''t handle the nuts, don''t bother entering.

    As the debate grew heated, Eli continued eating quietly, drowning in nostalgia and satisfied.

    Only Jori winked at him, before continuing his inmmatory part in the debate. Eli ignored him.

    Then he realized that around him were a craftmaster, two former beta-testers, and the others seemed equally interested in Rends.

    Opportunity, as they say, knocked.

    "Do you all y?" he interjected into a lull in the ruckus.

    Zee was already ying, as were Rashid, Jori, and Cenree. Sian''s brother had gifted her a headset, but she hadn''t registered an ount yet. Tal was borrowing his cousin''s gear, and had an ount but was waiting for Marai before building his avatar character.

    Eli smiled at them. "What race and ss are you thinking of choosing?"

    Sian looked thoughtful. "A Battlemage, possibly."

    There was a short silence as everyone imagined the petite librarian type as a Battlemage, a frontline heavy-battless.

    Then Cenree cackled. "I like it! I''m a Forged armorer but Battlemage or Berserker aren''t bad either."

    Eli thought about Cenree, who was even more manic than Zee, as a Berserker and mped down on a shudder at the image. Nope.

    Jori threw his arm over Sian''s shoulders, a distinctly flirty grin on his face. "I''m a Swordbearer. Us weapon users should stick together don''t you think?"

    He was all joking, but Sian didn''t know him enough to see that. She leaned away.

    Jori only grinned wider, and his mouth opened to say something likely even more offensive.

    "How about you, Tal?" Zee quickly cut into the conversation, his face still a little red. "Don''t you like the Swordbearers as well? Or were you set on Apothecary?"

    Eli was surprised the other would think about taking a crafting ss. And an Apothecary? His creepy smile would be even more creepy surrounded by jars of weird glowy stuff, sacks of mysteriously steaming powders, and bundles of strange vegetation hanging on the walls.

    "I do like them both. But I''ve tried out my cousin''s Beastrider build," said the smiling man. "It was amazing."

    Zee lit up. "It is! It''s a ss that does well at anybat range. And have you checked out the amount of choices there are for a mount?"

    That started an in-depth discussion on the pros and cons of various aspects of Rends.

    Ah, sess.

    Eli discreetly started recording.. This was all good information.

 Chapter 8 - Illegal Acts And Nostalgia (2)

    By the time lunch finished, Eli had gotten a positive answer from the owner of the synthprinter, and a pickup time of three in the afternoon.

    He also had aprehensiveption of what would be useful knowledge for any Rends yer, from the incisive minds of former testers, plus thementary of a craftmaster and a couple of rabidlypetitive gamers, and three soon-to-be yers who were determined to learn more.

    A good haul.

    Walking out the door, Zee looked like he wanted to talk to Eli.

    Eli wanted to ask him a few questions that hadn''t been addressed in depth, but Jori sent him a speaking Look and nced pointedly away.

    Eli followed the other''s line of sight, then cursed inwardly. The loan office was visible from the angle of the bistro''s windows.

    Eli quickly pasted a smile on his face. "Thanks for lunch, great conversation, nice to meet you both. Next time, my treat. Bye!"

    He was already jogging away by thest word.

    "Wait, Eli?!"

    Eli was fairly certain that the overprotective nerd only wanted to ask him why he wasing out of a loanshark office so soon after ostensibly recovering from sickness, and wanted nothing of that conversation.

    What would he say? ''I was taking out a terrifyingly massive loan so I could sell refurbished old model NV-headsets as premium ones? Better performance than the premium ones even, so it''s not like the customers would be disappointed!''

    Nope.

    Zee could be sneaky when he wanted to, but he was generally an upright person.

    If he followed Zee''s rules on this kind of thing and went full disclosure, he''d make smaller profits.

    As for why Zee knew it was a loanshark office, the guy just knew the strangest things.

    As someone whose many part-time jobs were suggestions from Zee Ventre, Eli could confirm that the other was a trivia specialist, an information hoarder; you never knew what he knew.

    As for why Jori knew the ce was a loanshark office, Eli wouldn''t be surprised if it was owned or operated by some rtive or other.

    After experiencing the massive brawl at old Mrs. Rigaton''s birthday some months after moving here from across the city, it was frightening usible for Mr. White-Haired-Serial-Killer to be working for the Rigatons.

    Eli didn''t stop jogging ¨C though it slowed to semi-fast walking after a few minutes ¨C until he reached his building. He really, really missed thepany car and the unlimited taxicab card.

    His eyes lit up when he noticed the delivery truck parked at his building.

    The side of the truck was emzoned with abstract bubbles and a logo that stated it belonged to Bubbling Harmony Laundry.

    He stuck his head into theundry shop, looked around to see if Marai was on duty today.

    Most smallundry businesses had declined due to personal washing machines bing more powerful and multipurpose. But this area of the district was full of young workers and students who preferred the service.

    Not to mention, the Kazan family were extremely tenacious people.

    Marai was nowhere in sight.

    "Hey, Mr. Kazan, can I borrow your delivery truck for the afternoon?"

    Mr. Kazan came out of the shop, tall and lean, and with kind eyes that were nothing like his niece Marai''s re.

    "Eli? As long as it''s back by five."

    "Can I take it now?"

    Mr. Kazan reached into the door of the truck, pressed his hand on the security panel, then tapped the starter twice before the truck rumbled alive.

    "You''re already on the driver ess list, so it''s good to go."

    "I am?"

    "You drove for a while a couple months ago, right?"

    "Right." Oh yeah. He''d lost a bet to that pushy Marai and had to cover her delivery shifts for two weeks. Eli didn''t think they''d keep his ess until now, but nice. He boosted himself into the seat. "Thanks, I''ll have it back in one piece."

    He set his hand on the controls and started the car backing away from the parking space.

    "Remember it can''t get over forty-five!" the older man called.

    Not over forty-five kmh? How old was the thing?

    The paint was fresh, so he thought the vehicle wasn''t older than two years. From the audible engine growl that could be heard, it might be closer to twenty years. Most cars these days were silent rides.

    So Eli rumbled down the street in an oldzy truck, content that he didn''t have to hire a mover.

    He saw Marai walking with some blonde girl he didn''t recognize at the same time as she caught sight of her family''s truck.

    Eli waved cheerfully as he and the truck rumbled past her. "I''m borrowing this!"

    "You! Don''t you dare!"

    "I''ll be back in a few hours!" he called back, then twisted the elerator to near-limits. The truck shuddered a little, then bumped its speed up a little faster.

    Eli twisted a bit more. It may have gone a bit faster. Then he twisted all the way. It didn''t go faster.

    He gave up.

    "Forty-five?" he muttered direly. "Too optimistic, Uncle Kazan. This truck is some, it could race a Torvian slug."

    He didn''t look back until several intersections were passed.

    He was heading toward the one ce in the city he could get MarkVIII headsets in bulk: the tech streets in Buson District.

    He''d paged through the list of GatesTech sellers in the city for days before choosing several to visit.

    A brandnew regr MarkVIII cost 2700 ecru per unit, what with the MarkIXing out next month. A Premium cost 5500 ecru, and the new MarkIX was advertised at 7100 ecru MSRP.

    Used regr MarkVIII sets were 800 to 1900 ecru in the market, with the Premium at 2200 to 4900 ecru.

    His first stop was a franchiser in the warehouse area there selling MarkVIII headsets for 2300 ecru. It was the lowest price he could get in the city.

    The margin was a bit steep to befortable but as long as he got 20,000 ecru over the loan of 100,000 before deadline, he''d be happy.

    He stopped at the nearest ATM he saw, connected his ount, then printed out ten cash bills. The material was transparent film and showed off the delicate inks making up the numbers and codes that proimed each bill to be worth ten thousand ecru each.

    The warehouse district was technically full of storage spaces, but there were a number of shops that sold wholesale and secondhand there.

    He entered therge barnlike space, studying the mass of parts and boxes on the shelves,puter and gaming gear, media and entertainment system, screens showing various advertisements all over the ce.

    "Hey there, what''re you here for?"

    "GatesTech MarkVIIIs."

    The teenager lifted a brow. "You know you can spend just a couple thousand more to get something that''s loads better than that, right? The VIII''s gone four years without GT doing a major overhaul on it, you sure you want to buy it?"

    In this century where every decade presented a technology that revolutionized the world, tech items got obsolete nearly the moment they were presented to the public.

    That the MarkVIII was still being bought four years on was testament to the potency of GatesTech products.

    "Amazing staying power," Eli onlymented.

    The teen grinned. "I''m with you. I still rmend the AGU Rage Series if you''re looking for a personal headset. Seeeeriously great potential there, if you know what I mean."

    Eli shook his head. "This is for¡­a project. If I buy more than ten, what''s your wholesale price?"

    The teenager lifted his other brow. "Wholesale means at least twenty units, then 2050 per unit."

    "New, right?"

    "Brand new," the teen agreed. "You can scan them as we load, if you want."

    That was a better price than he was expecting. "Thirty units then."

    "Right. That''s some project. Sixty-one kay ecru."

    Tsk. That was ten thousand more than he''d initially allocated for the headsets.

    Eli handed him seventy thousand in cash.

    The teenager sighed, went to the counter, fed the bills into the till, tapping out the order. The till spat back the change, also in cash, and a receipt.

    Thirty boxes half filled up the delivery truck''s free space. Eli did indeed scan each box as they were loaded, verifying authenticity and pristine condition.

    He locked the vehicle and started toward the shops on the parallel street. He needed a few more things from the techstores here.

    "Send message, Joven Rigaton."

    The phoneset beepedpliance.

    >>Jori, do you have a location?<<

    His business here needed to be done quickly. He pulled a hat over his limp brown hair.

    For one, he needed a MarkVIII Premium forparison.

    His phone pinged with a message, as he loaded the used MarkVIIIP into the passenger seat. Jori finally came through with an address, and a message that only said:

    >>I''ll meet you there.<<

    The address was an hour distant from the synthprinter seller''s ce. The space in the truck should berge enough to hold it, right? He told Jori that he would be there in roughly an hour and a half.

    He leaned against the side of the truck for a few moments before getting in. Whew, he was exhausted. Who knew fifteen minutes of haggling with a techshop owner was nearly as tiring than an hour of exercise?

    He pulled out thest of the bills, scanned them into his phone.

    The positive ding of the transfer sounded as the amounts were returned to his ount. The film of the bills darkened into unusability as the transfer ended, the colorful transparent inks no longer evident.

    He tossed the now useless film pieces into the trash.

    It was ten minutes past three when the truck juddered to stop at the address of the synthprinter seller. He rechecked the address, then knocked on the door.

    A pale woman, mid-tote twenties, about his age, opened the door a crack a little cautiously.

    In the age of maintained CCTV in all public areas, it was warranted. Muggers these days, to avoid being recorded, did their thefts indoors.

    "Hello?" Eli tried to smile reassuringly.

    "Are you buying the printer?"

    "Yes. I have the money right¡ª"

    "Oh, thank God. Hurry, hurry, she''ll be home any minute now."

    What?

    That can''t be any more suspicious. "Uh, it is yours, right?"

    "Yes it is! Nowe help me carry the thing out!"

    She didn''t look like she was lying. But her unusual hurry was rming.

    "Look, if I could have documentation¡ª"

    He was interrupted again by an irritated groan. She took him to the garage, where arge synthprinter was already half-packed up, taking a full quarter of the single-car garage space.

    She ripped open a stic bag and shoved the papers at him, then scrabbled at a drawer on one side of the garage to fish out an ID card and held it out to him.

    "Satisfied?"

    Elipared the names. They were the same and the ID disy was of the woman; Amarine Cort. He took a photo of the ID and papers together discreetly anyway, then smiled at her. "Very satisfied."

    "Great. Now, move your ass!"

    Eli scanned the item pieces, then helped pack and move the wheeled cart to the truck.

    The girth of the printer almost scraped the sides of the cargo space. They had to remove five of the headset boxes from the back of the truck before all of it fit.

    The five boxes joined their Premium cousin on the front seat.

    The rear doors finally closed, to both their relief. Even with the loaders, the printer was heavy.

    The woman pulled the wheeled cart to the garage again, then used it to haul some sacks toward him.

    Eli protested. "I checked that all the peripherals and parts were in there. What the hell are those? They won''t fit in anywhere."

    "I''ll give you a two thousand discount on price if you take these with you."

    "Done." Eli agreed. He stared at the truck. "There''s always the roof, I guess."

    She beamed at him.

    They scrounged up a reel of packing strips and tied the sacks securely on top of the truck, then covered them up with white cardboard, ster, and scotchtape to make the pile look like a part of the truck.

    They studied it, after.

    "It''s a moving traffic vition," huffed Eli. "I''m going to jail."

    The obstructed passenger window, the cargo on top, the age of the truck that was only hidden with deceptive paint; but thatst wasn''t his fault so he probably won''t get life imprisonment.

    The womanughed, more cheerful now that the printer was out of sight. "I have some juice inside. Will that help?"

    "I''m calling you for bail if it happens. But yes, juice would be nice."

    Theypleted the transaction in person and on the shopping site. Eli waited in the shade of the garage as she went in to get drinks.

    Not five secondster, she flew out the inner door and pushed him urgently outside.

    "Go, hurry up, go, go, go! She''s here!" She all but carried him to the driver''s seat, tossed a juicebox at him, then mmed his truck door and waved at him to leave manically.

    Eli didn''t hesitate; he tore out of there as fast as he could. It was still with all the speed of a three-footed tortoise, so theck of skidmarks on the driveway might have disappointed the nervous woman.

    The high horrified scream that sounded from the house sounded young, and only told him he had escaped a fate possibly worse than death.

    He wasn''t blind ¨C he''d caught a glimpse of the massive collection of girly robot dolls with long silky hair toting very realistic weapons from all eras as well as the trash bags filled with ''defeated'' figurines.

    Tsk.

    His mother used to babysit. He was familiar with games like barbiedolls-against-humanity. Twelve year olds should not be encouraged to be so vicious.

    He blended into the traffic quickly, sipping the cool liquid from the juicebox.

    It was pretty good melon juice ¨C fragrant, very melony, not too sweet, and slightly creamy.

    He tapped the driving assistant AI online, and watched like a gawking tourist as they passed buildings and parks and people that were both familiar and not familiar.

    Eli wished he could open the windows and feel the air on his face, but that was a traffic safety vition. He already had enough on the docket, and didn''t want to attract possible police attention.

    He watched as Greatcentral City passed outside the truck windows, and sipped juice.

    *

    Jori was waiting for him at the steps that lead to a basement door, ying like a child with the wheeled cart Eli had asked for. He looked Eli over, top to bottom, still sitting on the cart. "You look sicker than you did at lunch."

    "I warred with the avatars of capitalism in the forgotten streets of the great city, then escaped a tiny weapon-obsessed Gojira. Luckily, a beautiful woman sacrificed herself so it couldn''t follow."

    Jori lifted a brow. "Did you also gain the allegiance of various secret masters in your trip across said great city on that¡­magnificent steed?"

    "Are you just sitting there?" Eli ignored the sarcasm and climbed to the top of the truck and started ripping the cardboard off and snapping the packing straps apart. "Come help me unload these things. Hurry up."

    Jori was staring incredulously at the pieces of cardboard drifting to the driveway. "Eli the Quiet Broody One, did you justmit a crime?"

    "Not if we get these off quickly enough."

    Jori exhaled a disbelieving chuckle, but moved closer to receive the sacks Eli handed down.

    "If you brought something illegal to my Nana''s house, I swear¡­"

    Eli paused in ripping apart the remaining cardboard. "This is your Nana''s house?"

    "She loves music, used to rent the basement to old-style drum and guitar bands."

    "Is this the Nana that had a bullwhip during the birthday that never happened?"

    Jori smirked. "The same."

    "She''d probably help me avoid the police. But yeah, should I move elsewhere?" Eli sighed at the already unloaded sacks.

    "You''re probably right, she would." Jori contemted. "It depends on what your business is."

    Eli climbed off the truck, stood in the front of the building, hiding a frown with fingers tapping a stato on the ripped cardboard. Jori was casually moving the wheeled cart back and forth with a foot, waiting patiently.

    "That''s a business proposition, huh?"

    Jori smiled, a quick sh of fangs before his face returned to the pretty boy innocence that fooled people into underestimating him. "Of course it is."

    Eliughed, sudden.

    He''d forgotten; one of Zee''s ssmates mentioned that Jori Rigaton''s nickname in highschool was ''Angel of Light''.

    "Okay," he showed a grin just as sharp as the other''s.. "But you''ll help unload all this; I have to get the truck back to the shop before five."

 Chapter 9 - Interlude: Jori

    Jori couldn''t believe that Crewan, of all people, was semi-cheerfullymitting trickery and fraud sopetently.

    The two words that were most unbelievable: ''cheerfully'' and petently''. Because for years now Elias Crewan had been a sullen disaster.

    Not that he''d had that many encounters with the guy ¨C they were distant acquaintances at best. Granted he''d seen Crewan even less in thest half year, but Zee would have mentioned if something major happened with the people in his apartment building.

    That great a swerve in personality didn''t happen.

    He supposed Crewan finally found a job he liked.

    But the sudden minorwbreaking, plus seeing the man in the slums that night¡­whatever job the guy found might be worrying. Which white-bread-raised corporate-university-bred person went to the slums at night if they didn''t have troubling intentions?

    After Crewan didn''t deny that his business was not all that aboveboard, Jori could only offer a partnership so he could head off whatever meltdown urred. For some reason or other, Zee liked Crewan. Jori didn''t understand it, but hey it''s not like his friendships didn''t have a sketchy person or two in the mix.

    After hearing the proposition, he thought it was a joke.

    Crewan had professed little interest in virtual games before this, and even less with VR engineering. And now he''d blown a fortune on a truck-full of neuro-virtual headsets he wanted to ''tweak''?

    What the hell, right?

    It was going to crash and burn.

    With look in the other''s eyes¡­Jori shook his head. He had better things to do than waste his breath on someone who wouldn''t listen.

    With Zee signing on to one of the biggest space-businesses in the world, and Cenree nabbing a contract with RSI for some techhead stuff he wasn''t interested in, this was the time to convince everyone to create a guild ¨C before they got too busy.

    There were at least ten people that he trusted would round out the member requirements, and Zee, Cenree, and Enzo had the levels needed. Jori could front some of the start-up needed. Getting a guild made this early would only help them as the game progressed.

    *

    But as the days went by, Jori couldn''t keep his mind off whatever Crewan was doing in his Nana''s basement. And Zee being the worrier he was didn''t help.

    Zee was frowning, cross-legged on the carpeted floor beside him with thergest bowl of popcorn on hisp. "Do you think he''s in trouble?"

    He was talking about the way Crewan had suddenly disappeared altogether from their apartment building.

    Oh man, seriously? His Nana couldn''t stop talking about how Crewan was a nice guy, polite and quiet. He thought she was joking when she said she was concerned about Crewan not sleeping enough.

    How much time did he spend at Nana''s house?

    Jori leaned back to catch Cenree''s eyes.

    The other shrugged.

    The two of them had the least to do with Eli Crewan ¨C Enzo hated him, Marai and Zee knew his mother and felt they had some responsibility in his drama, and then Tal was Marai''s boyfriend.

    "You know he''s always asked you for help whenever he had trouble." Tal poured more popcorn into the bowl, then balled the bag up and tossed it on the table they''d moved aside for nning night.

    Cenree reached over Jori''s shoulder to grab a handful of the still steaming popcorn, she started tossing them one by one into her mouth.

    Marai tutted at her, even as she scoffed at her boyfriend''s words. She poured the sauce and spices over the popcorn, making it into a sticky mess.

    Zee obligingly shook the bowl to distribute the vors. "No he hasn''t. Not since Auntie died."

    "He hasn''t, but he angsts all over the ce like he has sole right to despair until someone gets tired of it and investigates," Enzo grumped.

    "There''s something different this time." Marai got Zee to pour some of the popcorn into the empty saucebowl and then flopped on the couch beside Tal.

    He didn''t ask or angst this time, Jori thought.

    Or rather, he asked Jori instead of Zee. Minimal angst in sight.

    He''d even joked a few times.

    Not something Jori had ever expected.

    The Eli Crewan he knew was weak, unable to get up after encountering a loss, felt the world owed him reparation, did little to better himself; in all, not good friend material. But Zee and Marai had been fond of Crewan''s mother, so Zee tolerated him lingering around the edges of their group like a creeping rot that sooner orter would fall away because it destroyed itself.

    The conversation during the lunch after Zee had been hired by Hareon bleeding Inteary was surprising.

    Jori expected Crewan to be furious and pained and jealous that Zee had been epted by such a prestigiouspany.

    Unusually, he''d been actually decent.

    Then the conversation he started¡­since when did the person who disliked games suddenly know so much about a VRMMORPG that he could toss out a usible theory about its future?

    Normally, he''d say that it was just Crewan''s normal half-bragging conversation, all sound and no substance. But no. There was something in Crewan''s eyes that had changed.

    After he tossed in the alienment so innocently just to watch the table burn up in argument, for a moment, Jori almost liked the whiny bastard.

    Not so whiny anymore, a small mental voice reminded him.

    It wasn''t until Crewan brought him a truckfull of VR headsets and an industrial printer that Jori realized something truly fundamental about the man was different.

    Jori had been half-joking about his business proposition.

    When it was surprisingly epted and Crewan exined what he was going to do, the reason for the visit to the loanshark fell into ce like a puzzle.

    In that moment, Jori was half-certain that Elias Crewan had tipped over the edge of insanity.

    The only thing he was sure of, was that the Eli he metst was not the same Eli he met that day.

    And he didn''t know why.

    Didn''t know how it would affect Zee and his friends.

    What a headache.

    "Will you pull him into the guild, then?" Enzo''s huffy question pulled Jori back into the conversation. Ah, Zee told them he''d given Crewan a coupon for Rends. "He doesn''t have the money for even an old-model headgear."

    Joriughed at that, amused. He ignored Enzo''s re. Elias Crewan had inadvertently broken one of Enzo''s precious high-tech model robots, and Enzo had never forgiven him.

    Zee shook his head. "I''ll ask him if he registers, that''s all. The guild has entry provisions; he has to adhere to those like everyone else."

    Enzo nodded, satisfied. "You''ll be waiting long, I think. It''s not as if he could afford it."

    "Enzo," Marai sighed. "Not everyone has money. The only reason I''m ying is for the cash."

    "But you earned your rig," Enzo argued. "That guy''s not one to work hard, and stingy besides. If we invite him to the guild early, he''ll expect us to subsidize his gear."

    "He has a job already, actually," Jori interjected. Then mentally kicked himself, and hid his grimace in a can of soda.

    Zee narrowed his eyes at him. "You know what he''s doing?"

    Jori shrugged, waving everything off with augh. Because it was hrious. "No. And all this doesn''t matter until he actually joins the game. Currently, we''ve just made the guild, so recruiting others is far off. We still have to be famous enough that people want to be recruited by us."

    "We''re already famous. Famous!" Cenree tossed her popcorn into the air, making them all yell in protest as the kernels fell like snow.

    She cackled, then flung herself over the back of the couch and ran into the kitchen, Enzo and Marai in pursuit.

    If Cenree didn''t prefer in popcorn, Jori would skin her alive. He was pretty sure a few of the others would help him.

    "More famous than a few world announcements," Zee took over, as if there hadn''t been an interruption.

    Jori and Tal made a small game of flicking off the popcorn kernels snagged in his curly hair.

    Still talking, Zee dipped his hand in his bowl and flung a few saucy and sticky kernels at them. They stopped. "We need a name that endures, that stands for something. We''ve already made a start, a foundation. Now we need to build that foundation to the clouds and higher."

    Marai smiled at them. "Shall we n then? We need a ce to build the nhall first of all."

    "Too bad it''s not allowed in the Trade Cities," Tal brought up a map of Rends.

    "A major city then?" Jori leaned forward to look at the map.

    Zee shook his head. "Not a city. A town or vige is better. It''s faster to gain Reputation. Somewhere near enough dungeons and easily defensible."

    "Somewhere that''s not the desert," Marai added, flopping against Tal''s side.

    Tal smirked at her. "You don''t like my nativend?"

    His girlfriend rolled her eyes at him. "You were born in d."

    "On the ship returning from d," he corrected.

    "Yes, yes, you''re a citizen of international waters."

    They started bickering.

    Jori looked at Zee, ignoring them. "The north then?"

    Zee nodded. "Maybe not on Icebreak Bay. Or Greenleaf, for that matter."

    "Don''t like water?"

    "A navy might be helpfulter, but there are too many people near the Trade Cities."

    "On the Dawn Sea coast, there aren''t a lot of good ces." Jori tapped the coast on the other side of the continent from Greenleaf Bay.

    The Trade Cities were ancient cities that had the only mass transport portals in the game. There were four of them in the game: three on the Marfall continent, one on Amvard continent.

    They were the easiest and fastest way to get around the massive world of Rends, which was why they were neutral merchant cities.

    There were rumors of more, which Jori was tracking, but no sign of rted quests yet.

    "The Dawn Sea looks best," Zee said, then smiled, "somewhere with mountains or hills. Just the ce for a proper fortress, right?"

    It was also on the other side of the continent from Amvard and the Marfall Sea where most of the fighting was, giving them time to fortify.

    But from that look on Zee''s face, he had a n that would get all of them in trouble. Again.

    What fun.

    The problematic Elias Crewan was delegated to the back of Jori''s mind as he joined his friends in building a ce to belong in the world of games, and making sure their esteemed n leader wouldn''t inadvertently fling them off the edge of an abyss and somehow conquer a kingdom while falling to their deaths.

    Numerous yers were also building guildns at this time, as the leading edge of elite yers in Rends broke through the Lvl 50 milestone.

    It was best to start building up influence and reputation now, to sway the better yers to their guildter.

    Jori nced at Zee, his friend and the leader of their beginning n. The man was a little stressed about his new job.

    Hopefully, getting to cut loose and stab a few people would help.

    Zee worried too much. If they got the guild working properly, it would be one more thing he wouldn''t have to worry about.

    With Zee at the helm and this pack of crazies around him, Jori was sure their group would be one of the most terrifying in Rends.

    Really, he couldn''t wait.

    Soon enough, they named the guild Tarakhan ¨C piecing together a few things from the vor text of various items, it had old in-gamenguage words for ''wind'' and ''soaring''.

    Marai could be a nerd every now and then.

    *

    It took a week and a half in real-time and twice that in Rends-time for the guild to gain a footing. They finally had some time to breathe and so their epted raid-missions lessened. Finally establishing enough Rep in Vermane City, the king allowed them to build a nhall in a mountain town not far away called Oruen.

    Jori had some time to check on what Crewan was doing in his Nana''s basement.

    And found the bewildering sight of the man, who infuriated Enzo by not knowing the difference between a screwdriver and a hole-wrench, skillfully wielding an electronic solder over a disassembled neuro-virtual headset.

    He''d thought Crewan would hire someone, not do it himself.

    Jori had been betting on the guy pressing Zee into service, actually. Which is why he made sure to confirm ns with his friend ahead of time recently, so Zee would have the excuse to refuse.

    This was just another thing Crewan didn''t do ording to script.

    Another surprise.

    On the tables behind Crewan were rows of GatesTech MarkVIIIs, some carefully wrapped, others lined up bare on disy. On a smaller desk, one that Jori recalled was from the storage attic, were severalputer disys connected to an NV-headset.

    It pinged as Jori stepped closer.

    A diagnostic?

    He bent down to see what it was measuring, then recalled that it was simr to the disy the technicians had when calibrating his gaming rig.

    ording to the disy, the headset ¨C which from the logo was a GT MarkVIIIP ¨C was safe for use and all systems green. He nced at the other disys, and his eyes widened.

    They were performance ratings.

    When Crewan said he could upgrade a MarkVIII to perform better than a Mark VIIIP, he hadn''t been joking.

    Jori straightened up again and turned to watch incredulously as Eli Crewan slowly put together one of the mostplicated pieces of technology in thest century.

    Cenree and Enzo could do it.

    Zee could do it.

    But Jori was used to those three doing things like this.

    Crewan was an end-user, always had been. When did he be so tech-savvy?

    He watched silently until Crewan looked up.

    "Oh, you''re here," Crewan said absently, attention mostly on the parts in his hands. "Nana said you were a bit busy."

    "You could''ve messaged." Jori did his best to sound casual.

    "You might be with Marai or Zee." Crewan waved his statement away. "Then they''d know where I was."

    Jori thought back on how particrly vicious Marai was in thest few days. She was looking for Crewan? No, he wasn''t getting between that. "You wanted to talk?"

    Crewan frowned. "Yeah, I need cash."

    Jori''s brows jumped up. Was Crewan always that blunt? He narrowed his eyes on the man, but the other continued obliviously.

    "The synthprinter cartridges I bought were the wrong types. So, dear business partner, do you think you could sell these before Friday?" Crewan pointed at the packaged headsets.

    "It actually worked?" Jori still couldn''t believe it, despite seeing the diagnostic on the MarkVIIIP earlier ¨C a fake MarkVIIIP. "You did all this yourself?"

    Crewan gave him a grin. "You didn''t believe me?"

    "Who in hell would?"

    The bastard onlyughed. "Yeah, that''s fair."

    That told him nothing, Jori griped silently.

    "Crewan, how many did you upgrade?"

    "Just fifteen, but like I said, I ran out of synthprinter cartridges. Also had to buy actual MarkVIIIP boxes and packaging." Crewan grimaced, then muttered to himself. "Apparently 100,000 ecru wasn''t enough."

    Jori put a hand to his head. He didn''t think he was supposed to hear that.

    Truly a headache.

    Crewan turned to him, expression serious. "Can you move them? Selling them as refurbished shouldn''t be a problem. But if anyone scans them, they''d still read as regr MarkVIIIs."

    "I''ll see what I can do." Jori''s mind started churning.

    He knew a few people in the headgear refurbishing business. They''d have to make their own diagnostics, but if this worked, changing the product data wouldn''t be so difficult.

    "Are you nning on buying more headsets?"

    To his surprise, Crewan shook his head. "This isn''t long-term. MarkVIIIP prices are falling slowly even now. The biggest profit for me is just this one time."

    True enough. Something like this won''t be a secret for long, that someone was selling tricked out MarkVIIIs.

    Crewan had probably done all the legwork himself.

    A couple more runs and people would start getting suspicious of him.

    But his Nana taught her descendants to take advantage of something like this until they squeezed everyst drop of profit dry.

    It''s true that the biggest profits should be over soon, but Crewan didn''t have his uncle''swork and people.

    Jori made a decision. "If you can teach the method, I have an uncle who would pay you for the knowledge."

    Crewan blinked. Then huffed augh, as if exasperated.

    Really, was the guyughing all the time now? After years of being a broody little shit?

    It made Jori feel like the other learned that there was a massive joke on everyone and wasn''t telling.

    It was ufortable, really.

    "Sure," Crewan said. "But keep my name out of whatever you''re going to do. I don''t want to know."

    As if they were going to tell him anyway.

    "I''ll sell the fifteen you already made, and won''t tell Uncle about it until you''re done with your business."

    "Thanks. I really need those cartridges for thest headsets." Crewan stretched, his focus returning to the parts on the table before him.

    Jori studied the other, then bluntly stated. "You''re different."

    "Oh?" The single syble was purely curious.

    "No really, you even stand differently. Two weeks ago you were still the loser that Zee unountably befriended, so what happened since then?"

    Crewan fell into a contemtion.

    Jori waited impatiently.

    Finally, Crewan sighed and answered. "Two weeks ago, I wished on a thousand falling stars."

    What.

    Right, two weeks ago, on the night that Zee slept over at his house because he had an interview at HI the next day and didn''t want to bete because of traffic, there was a meteor shower.

    It was hardly a thousand. A couple hundred at most.

    Jori rolled his shoulders, trying to shrug off the frustrated urge to strangle the moron. What did shooting stars have to do with anything?

    "So hard that I fell sick," Crewan continued. "I guess my wish was granted. Weirdly."

    "Are you actually serious about this?"

    Crewan just smiled.

    Jori could see no deception in his face, none of the depressed dullness of before. There was still broodiness, something haunted, but also a resolve that he had never seen before.

    His brow furrowed.

    Who would believe that nonsense about stars?

    Something really had changed. Was it possible for a person to change so much in so little time?

    Only trauma of some kind did something like this, right?

    But Zee, that great worrier, considered Crewan a friend. Zee would know if something major had happened, and would rally the others to help. Except Zee didn''t know anything.

    The conclusion: something happened to Crewan out of Zee''s sight, somethingrge enough to cause a change in personality.

    Should he tell Zee?

    He shook his head. No, the idiot had enough worries. Jori definitely wasn''t telling Zee about this.

    That meant, unfortunately, he was the one who had to keep an eye on Crewan.

    Truly, a massive headache.

    "What are you going to do with the money?"

    Crewan simply said, "I''m ying Rends."

    Jori felt some sympathy for Enzo, but he had to say it. If he didn''t and Crewan joined, there''d be strife in the guild and that would be bad. "Zee is part of a guild."

    To Jori''s surprise, there was a sh of disquiet on Crewan''s face.

    "No. I don''t think I''ll join a guild."

    What?

    "Did you even research the game? Joining a guild at this point would be the fastest way to gain resources to level up, and only in the high levels would you profit. Did you believe some drekk about every yer profiting if they y hard enough? Because people who believe that are morons who get locked into unbreakable contracts with shady game sweatshops."

    Crewan had to know that the money from this illegal venture would all be spent on the gaming hardware.

    Instead of getting angry, like expected, Crewan burst intoughter. Jori blinked at the hysterical tinge to the guffaws. He eyed the other, wondering. Whatever happened, it had definitely knocked something loose in that head.

    "What the jibbersaks is happening to you, Crewan? Do you have a doctor I should call?"

    "Worried about me? No, you just said¡­" The other giggled again, and it was really harshing Jori''s patience. "I researched the game, it''s fine."

    "If you lose all your money and have to sell your gear, don''te crying to me."

    "That''s not happening." There was an odd glint in Crewan''s eyes that was almost feral, a strange determination.

    Jori only felt his headache grow.. Somehow, he knew keeping an eye on this guy would be trouble.

 Chapter 10 - End Of October

    Eli knew he only got away with his expenses being under budget because the basic hardware framework of both versions of the MarkVIII were simr. He''d been very relieved.

    He was prepared to print the padding and cloth too, of course, but that would have increased his overhead by a factor of ten and printed textiles never felt as good as the natural fabrics.

    Being of the same style, that meant he only had to print out the hardframe sections of the premium headset, then just slot in the internals and essories of the regr one.

    Jori partnering with him was also an unexpected stroke of luck. Mostly because buying a batch of premium RFID codes from the dar would probably¡­he didn''t know how to do that. And he knew nobody who knew how to do that withoutpromising safety.

    He''d rather avoid jail, thanks. The less people involved with this, the better.

    It allowed Eli to get on with the printing and packaging while Jori and his uncle did the selling.

    Selling the whole operation to Jori''s uncle was an easy decision. He''d sold Jori''s Uncle Teref the synthprinter for less than he could have gotten on the online market, but he also bought the old man''s silence.

    In any case, he''d made it out of the venture without Zee or Marai knowing about it.

    He wasn''t sure how they would react to exactly how much he''d changed. Even in his darkest days, before, he''d been generallyw-abiding.

    He''d told Jori that his change was the result of a wish granted by a thousand shooting stars. He almost didn''t remember them, the cascade that had lit the sky on the night before the interview with HI, the night before he woke up back in time.

    If he wished again on those shooting stars, will ite true?

    He thought about all that had happened before he''d been given this second chance, and firmly decided not to do any wishing anytime soon.

    This one chance. This one wish. He''d earned it, hadn''t he? Suffered for it, died for it. Died twice, even.

    This second chance ¨C or was it the third? ¨C he wanted to see how far he could take it.

    His blood pounded in anticipation. Or was it fear?

    A hand pped onto his shoulder.

    He blinked, torn away from his thoughts. Jori was looking at him.

    In thest weeks of their partnership, Jori had been unexpectedly present, helping with everything, dragging him upstairs to eat or take a break, forcing him to increase his exercise schedule.

    Were they friends now? Whoa.

    That was unexpected.

    But the disdain that had always tinged the other man''s interactions with him was slowly disappearing. He didn''t really care what Zee''s friends thought about him overall, but it was a bit gratifying even so.

    "Is this part of the new you? Spacing out like an idiot instead of brooding in out of the way corners like a creep?"

    Eli blinked. "New me? I''ve always been me. Nice to know what you think about me, by the way."

    Jori ignored the sarcasm. "I don''t know what happened, and I''m not going to ask if you don''t want me to. But you''re better like this, more confident. It''s good."

    I helped lead an uprising against the armed group of mercenaries who were exploiting us, Eli thought. And we won our freedom with our own hands.

    Something like that, it would be seriously uplifting.

    He couldn''t say that though, so he smiled wryly instead. "Better to be an idiot than a harmless lurking creep?"

    "Harmless? Former you was irritatingly depressing. You were harming my inner bnce."

    Former him? Eli was silent for a second while he thought about that. Over seven years in Zushkenar would have changed him, of course. But Jori was talking like they were two different people. Not a bad description; was he too different that he was suspicious?

    He looked at Jori. "Should I brood a little more then? Creep around corners, avoid the light?"

    Jori''s smirk softened unexpectedly and Eli realized, to his horror, that the younger man thought he was being insecure and looking for reassurance. "What are you talking about? I said you''re better like this, right? If everyone could change this much because of a cold, I''ll deliberately start an epidemic as the great phnthropic project of my life."

    Then, as if embarrassed, the other huffed. His eyes sharpened. "So, about this defrauding I watched happen before me."

    "You know words like phnthropic?" He mostly remembered Jori as the typical streetganger and was only finding out how much of that was deliberate.

    "Ah, I''m so hurt. Being a good citizen in this world, is being a learned citizen in this world, my friend. Easier to rebel against the authorities if you know thews they''re limited by."

    "The samews we''re all limited by, right?" Eli offered half-heartedly.

    Jori smirked at him, then silently waved an arm at the empty headsets arrayed like bodiless sentinels on the basement tables. "I am relieved you are saying that. Why, for one minute, I thought you were a criminal!"

    Eli sighed internally at the unsubtle teasing. "Never doing the defrauding again. Probably."

    "Good answer. Never say never."

    "I could''ve rented a space elsewhere, you know?"

    "Who else would give you my rates? That''s not what I meant. I am always gratified when my friendse to me with their forays into the shadowy mysteries of crime."

    Eliughed.

    Jori watched him, pleased.

    "Because then you''ll have ckmail," Eli used.

    "You know me so well."

    "If you ckmail me, I now know people who can kick your ass." Working out of Nana''s basement was unexpectedly educational. He''d even found someone to teach him how to shoot an archaic revolver.

    One month, with nothing to do but work and think, Eli had his Rends avatar more or less fleshed out. It had been¡­weirdly ufortable, knowing that in a year, he would change again so fundamentally that even his genes might not stay the same.

    On the other hand, he''d already decided to change everything, right? So putting together something, controlling what he would be, consenting to the changes as they happened, it was strangely therapeutic.

    Jori snorted and his lips quirked up. "With a weak body like that, of course you outsource your asskicking."

    "Hey, I''ve been getting better!" A month of exercise had given him a better body. A better body meant a better time in Rends.

    Jori studied him again, like he had over thest two weeks. "You have. You''re not taking stims are you? Because those are a bitch to kick."

    "No! Do I look drugged?" Eliughed. "You y with Zee and the others right?"

    "I do, actually." Jori lifted a brow. "Want to go on a raid with us?"

    "No thanks."

    "You have to be a gamer, to survive Rends."

    Eli wondered why the other was so insistent about joining them. yers don''t get to make a guild unless they were at least Lvl 30, and what could Eli contribute as someone who had not even taken the beginner quests? "I have motivation enough to survive."

    He''d never considered himself a gamer. It had only been a game to him for one week before it got horribly real. Even now, after reading so many articles on Rends game mechanics, he was struggling to think of it as a game.

    "Besides," he continued, rolling the lie out blithely. "I''m not very fond of violence. You''re a war n."

    "Every guild is a war n."

    Eli hid a smile at how exasperated the other sounded.

    *

    Eli went from Nana''s ce immediately to the loan office.

    He still had one day before the interest came due, and the white-haired old man blinked when he said he was there to repay everything plus interest.

    Hehe, old man.

    "Eli."

    Coming out smiling after his business with the scary loanshark was finished, he jumped at the t voice saying his name.

    Turning to see Marai and Zee looking at him, he paled a little. "Hey. I think I was working too hard, haven''t seen you two in so long?"

    "You look better," Marai approved grudgingly, notmenting on the amount of times he''d run away from her over the month. "The work did you good."

    "Oh, it was a contract. I just finished, so really, unemployed again." Eli''s fingers drummed on his thigh. He nced at Zee, who was looking at him uncertainly. "How was your first month at HI?"

    Zee gave a small smile. "Better than expected."

    "Right? I saw a review of their cafeteria. Free chocte truffles, really?"

    Zee''s smile widened incrementally. "No, but the apple strudel and the coconut pie are so good there''s legally no repercussions for killing a coworker over thest piece."

    Marai groaned feelingly. "Don''t remind me."

    "I hope you got the recipe." Eli wondered if there was a way to port Earth cookbooks into Rends. There should be, right? So many people had sighed about the apparently subpar level of cookery in Zushkenar.

    "Trade secret," Zee sighed wistfully.

    "Oh, too bad? Well, I have to go home, things to do, stuff to get ready." Eli started to back away.

    "It''s not a strudel or anything," Zee cut him off. "but I''m hungry and willing to buy you both a Tyrannitar."

    "Sold. We''ll split a Godforsaken." Marai grabbed their arms and pulled them toward the Hazelnutsward bistro.

    A Godforsaken was burger containing two and a half kilograms of smoked ground beef patty plus another kilogram of sides, a half kilogram of melty cheese, and seven different kinds of sauce. The bread buns were maybe another half-kilogram in weight, light and soft with crispy outer shell.

    It was a popr food challenge in the city.

    More just liked to share because it was the only burger in the bistro that had porkbelly charsiu stuffing inside the beef patty. It also came with unlimited cold cider and hot bone broth.

    The nerve-wracking thing was that the whole two hours they were eating, Zee and Marai didn''t start the interrogation that Eli expected them to ¨C they just stared from time to time, which he ignored, and talked about inconsequential things.

    The Godforsaken was delicious, and needed full focus. It came on a metal pan that could be reheated over a portable grill, so the deliciousness never cooled down.

    It was only when they were saying goodbye that Zee asked, with an aborted gesture to the loanshark office. "You¡­worked there?"

    "No. But my business there is done." The contract Eli signed had strict privacy uses and all the evidence that he was there, apart from the public security videos, was trashed.

    "You know you could always ask us if there was anything you needed, right?"

    "I know. Don''t worry."

    The two looked satisfied at the short answer, and didn''t pry further. Eli was confused by that, considering they''d all but stalked him for thest month.

    Maybe he just needed to show his face?

    Wait, was it the fact that he ran away that made them more determined to catch him?

    Eli watched them walk down the street, hand lifted in a frozen wave.

    No way, right?

    What were they, wolves? Some other predator that had instincts to chase when their prey ran?

    Deciding not to think about it any longer, he went directly home.

    Ordering the Lazybones headset from the Rends site was the effort of a minute. With the haul from thest month better than expected, he could buy the MarkIX version of the headgear, which cost him 8000 ecru.

    The notification said it would be delivered tomorrow.

    The bio-cradle was giving him more trouble.

    His first choice, an almost-new auctioned item from a seller in the city, was bought outright by someone else, to his irritation.

    The cheaper Rends-themed bio-cradles didn''t have the muscle massage function, which was the one thing he decided was non-negotiable.

    The other almost-new options on the shopping site were all slightly off. He finally went to the BaggaInstruments website and bought one new.

    BaggaInstruments constantly churned out the best-reviewed bio-cradles, so Eli was fairly confident about his choice.

    The month''sbors hadted him 28,300 ecru, which was a very satisfying number.

    Of that, he spent 22,500 ecru on the gaming rig.

    He pushed down the part of him that was cringing at the exorbitant price.

    If he was to reach his goals, this was only basics.

    That done, he stowed his phone and stalked to his bedroom, intending to nap the fooda away.

    He paused at the second bedroom in the apartment. He hadn''t entered since he''d time-travelled a month ago.

    Thest time, he''d kept his mother''s room pristine until the world ended.

    He unlocked the door.

    A scent of faint flowers wafted about him as he opened the door. He closed his eyes and remembered.

    The room was dusty, not having been cleaned for a month. But it was exactly as he left it.

    He stood at the doorway for a long while, before he started dusting off and packing up his mother''s things. He kept the electronic frames that held family photos, boxed up everything that he could bear to give away, then sat down on the bed.

    The room was emptier, colder, but it still had that scent. It looked lighter.

    Hourster, even the boxes were gone, sent to people who could use them. Some of her things he individually wrapped with carefully written notes; his mother had friends who would be happy to keep her mementos.

    Then he went to his bedroom and dropped onto the bed.

    He slept as the sun lowered in the sky and didn''t wake until morning, the exhaustion of it all taking a toll.

 Chapter 11 - The Hall Of Choosing (1)

    Eli lowered the headset over his eyes.

    It hade first thing in the morning, and he''d unpackaged it immediately.

    Darkness fell and Eli was standing on a tform in space. No really, some distance to his right, the Horsehead Neb was twinkling.

    Before him, several translucent frames hung in mid-air.

    [Wee, Elias Crewan! You have one (1) ount/s on this system.]

    [You have one coupon.]

    [Activate ount]

    [Register ount]

    The headset was an RSI product specifically calibrated for the Rends game, so of course there was the option to register.

    His public data and Rends registration was already in the system since he connected his phone to the headset, so it was only a matter of checking if the data that automatically filled in the ount form was urate.

    His bank ount details were also essible via the headset.

    Eli transferred 3800 ecru into his Rends ount. The remaining 2000 ecru left in the bank was enough for living expenses, and his increased electric bills for the next year.

    Converting 3800 ecru to in-game currency meant he now had a starting budget of 380,000 golden drax.

    Eli smiled in satisfaction. It was worth the month of little sleep.

    He tapped on the coupon.

    A buy one month, get one month free that came with the brand new headset. Two months at 195 ecru? A steal.

    He activated it immediately. That upped his premium months to fifteen.

    The December of next year was the fourteenth month from now.

    Eli took a deep breath, and another.

    He wanted to live a life he would not regret.

    This was the first step.

    He reached for the translucent frame.

    [Activate ount]

    The game automatically logged into the character creation area.

    The space view around him changed to a massive temple, the stone ceiling so far above him he could barely see the repeating curved flower pattern. Around him was a great hall bordered on two sides by a colonnade of white and grey marble. Each column was wider at the base than ten of him spread-eagled finger to finger.

    On the far side of the hall was open space, an endless blue sky and clouds.

    Between the columns were sculptures he''d seen before, in this same character creation area. Last time, he didn''t know they were symbolic depictions of deities. In fact, in his research, he hadn''te across that data yet.

    The sculptures towered above the hall, massive and imposing.

    Nine of Creation.

    Nine of Destruction.

    The eighteen gods of Zushkenar.

    Gods that came to exist, in viscerally real ways, when Rends became more than a game.

    Of the sculptures closest to him, on his right was a massive tower clock with a single gigantic eye. Chronakem of Destruction.

    On his left was a single graceful flower, the gently curving stem maybe nine storeys tall. The goddess'' worshipers said that it was called the caflor. Anradeth of Creation.

    This, now that he knew what he was seeing, now that he had lived innds they looked over, was something to engender awe.

    There was no ce in Zushkenar where the symbols of the world''s deities could all be seen together.

    It was only here, in the character creation area, that this temple existed.

    Eli pressed three fingers of his right hand to the center of his forehead, staring straight down the middle of the sculptures, taking care not to look at any one of them directly. Then made a fist with the same hand and pressed it over his heart.

    These gods had given the survivors of the Quake nine years of life.

    Even though it was an attempt to not be destroyed themselves, it was still nine years of life that the transmigrators would not otherwise had.

    Eli would not worship them.

    He was not a religious person.

    But to offer respect was just good sense whening before beings that could crush continents.

    In Zushkenar, the gods were present in the everyday lives of the people. Eli had learned their names and legends nearly by osmosis.

    He pressed his hand to the pedestal in front of him.

    It shone, and a chime rang crisply through therge hall before him.

    He whirled, remembering the AI that startled him near to death thest time.

    There was no one behind him.

    "Wee to the Halls of Choosing."

    "Weeping skies!" Eli cursed and whirled back, grappling for a weapon. The curse that left his mouth was pure Zushkenari. Was he already starting to think like a Zushkenari again? He snorted. He wasn''t even there yet.

    The being, dressed in simple robes, serenely stood beside the pedestal.

    "Weeping skies," Eli seethed, "don''t do that."

    "I apologize. Are you ready to begin?"

    "Fine." Eli crossed his arms. "I''vee to choose, and all that. Can we get started without the spiel about being watched over by the gods, priest? Or is it priestess."

    The being inclined a hooded head. "Attendant, should suffice. They/Them. And by what name would the guest go?"

    Eli hesitated.

    He''d gone by StrawmanScare before. And people had called him Scare even after the Quake. Should he go with the name?

    He wavered for a few moments.

    "s Krow," he finally said. "I-L-A-S then K-R-O-W. He/Him."

    Eli chose something close to his real name, so he would remember that from a certain point of view, the game was reality.

    He wouldn''t mind being called Scare, but that name had many bad memories attached to it.

    Using s Krow would notpletely negate that history though.

    His name from before was referencing a scarecrow after all.

    "A unique name," said the Attendant, epting it. "Then, s Krow, you havee to choose where your fate begins. In the world of Zushkenar, there are nine races."

    That was the first time Eli heard the name of the world in this life.

    Everyone else called it Rends.

    Eli tamped down the sudden nostalgia.

    "Call me Krow."

    The Attendant nodded at his words, then lifted their hand. Large cards started to appear one by one before Eli, as the Attendant named the races.

    "The Humans. The Dwarvir. The Sirens. The Trollkin, The Magmigant, The Vargvir, The Dryads, The Draculkar, The Mafmet. Choose well, Krow, and live with the strength and cunning of your choice."

    Eli nced at the first.

    Therge card depicted two people back to back, with arge mountain city in the background.

    Humans were the usual very adaptable average build. They lived in city states and small nations all over Zushkenar, the biggest city being Grangonthor, the mountain city that survived a thousand wars.

    It really was a city that covered an entire small mountain, spread across the foothills, and the ins and the coast around the mountain.

    The city was self-sufficient and well-nned. If they closed the gates, the city-state and its three million inhabitants could survive for a hundred years.

    It was the race Eli had chosen thest time, barely skimming over the others.

    This time, he moved down the list.

    He touched each card, skimming over the information to see if there were things he didn''t know, and remembering things he did know about the races.

    Dwarvir were part dwarf and part other. They generally only reached 170cm in height, max. They were good with stonecraft, and preferred heavy weaponry. Their armies had stone cannons.

    The card depicted another two people, their eyebrows jutting out beyond the bounds of their faces like unexpectedly graceful des made out of hair. They were stockier than Humans, and in the background was a crest with the sigil of stonemasons.

    They had great endurance and strength. Also the second most charismatic race, so much that there were a fair few dwarviran bards in the game that did very well.

    For those interested in subsses and crafting, the dwarvir were best when choosing to be Builders or Brewers. They were the second best choice for Miners, unless mining for stone.

    Dwarviran crafters could do things with stone that to other races were impossibilities.

    Sirens had pretty scales trailing down their necks below their webbed ear-appendages, and on their spines, the backs of their hands.

    They were greatly music inclined and most be bards. Their fingernails were pearl colored and so were their eyes. Their hair, in Zushkenar, came in shades of blue or green or purple or orange.

    Sirens were the race with the highest charisma stat, but also their DEX was excellent. However, average endurance and low strength slotted most siren yers into battle support roles.

    They made the best potential Bards and assassins, also diplomats and entertainers.

    For crafters, the sirens were best for water-rted professions, anything to do with musical instruments, plus Acrobats and Weavers.

    Trollkin were one of the most bnced warriors in the game, though best at melee. They were mocha-skinned and pointy-eared, withrge canines. They had a habit of decorating their skin with scars, which stood out intimidatingly.

    Because of their preference for non-urban environments, Trollkin made the best druids.

    For crafters, they were good in Herbalism, Forestry, and anything to do with woodworking and beast-taming.

    The Magmigant race preferred having an active volcano nearby, which limited yer mobility unless they took the quest for a portableva crystal they could make into jewelry. Which is why Magmigant yers fairly sparkled in the sun, with all the jewels they had.

    They were arguably thergest and tallest people in Zushkenar, with heights up to 220cm. Their great endurance and strength make them one of the best close and mid-range warriors in the manynds.

    Their skin was obsidian colored and they had horns that looped around their ears gracefully.

    They tamed firdrakes for transport, which were giant firebreathing lizards with no wings, but with spiked tails. The quest to tame one as a mount was avable for Magmigants only.

    Their traditional crafts were generally linked to metal-smithing. The great mines of the world all have Magmigant influence.

    Vargvir were wolfmen, descendants of one of the divine servants of Kombar, god of beasts, ording to the tales. Their human forms had pointed furry ears on their heads.

    They were one of the most adaptable fighters in Zushkenar. By tradition, the ss Wolf Warrior was tailor-made for them.

    Vargvir remain one of the great Enchanting sses. After the Magmigant race, they were the best smiths.

    Dryads were great alchemists, and often the battle-ss of golem summoner was perfect for them. They made excellent Bards and Enchanters, and also great Druids.

    They lived in forests, and were traditionally allies of the Vargvir. Often they preferred solitary ces, ces of contemtion and istion from the world.

    They had tall, lean and willowy frames, with hair often entwined with leaves and flowers.

    Draculkar lived in mountain cities, with many many high towers. Their legends say they were descended of ancient dragons, though they might also have siren blood.

    They were the best mages of all the races and did well with magic-heavy builds.

    Draculkar were artistic. Much of the jewelry that adorned the bodies of notable people across thends were draculkar designed.

    Their skin came in shades of purple-blue, and their eyes came in metallic shades like gold, silver, copper, steel, etc.

    Mafmet meant ''children of Maf'' as the race revered Maf, an ancient sorceress who gave them the ability to see in the dark and to use magic. They had hidden ws on their fingers. They did not have fur, but had cat-like eyes. They were one of the shortest people in-game, but were fast and vicious.

    Mafmet were excellent engineers and assassins. They were the first Forged, and still there are many who recreate themselves. One of the most numerous races in Zushkenar.

    All the mechanized clockwork mounts in the game are made by Mafmet artificers. It was a racial secret, the process to animate clockwork.

    "The Draculkar." Eli stated clearly.

    "Are you certain?"

    In truth, Eli had been wavering between Vargvir and Draculkar.

    Vargvir not only came with a battle-ss tailored to it, there was beast-rider potential there which meant points in general beast-taming.

    Draculkar were mage-builds and despite therge magic pool, didn''t have a lot of stamina. They were meant for quick overwhelming takedowns.

    Both had great potential at being a monster hunter and an enchanter.

    He wanted the Enchanter ss; he knew that beforeing into this.

    Enchanters in Zushkenar became rich even with the smallest enchanted items.

    A vargvir Wolf Warrior was better than a draculkar Battlemage for solobat, mostly because of the synergy bonus between the vargvir race and the Wolf Warrior battless.

    And the fact that draculkar had rtively weak endurance.

    But there was something he wanted from one of the hidden draculkar racial bonuses, and that was the chance to gain the ability to control shadows.

    He had personally seen how godstingly useful the ability was in a race that wasn''t known for weaponless fighting, and seriously coveted it.

    Shadow Animation was only avable in several drakulkar and magmigant racial quests. And dryads could create shadow-golems, technically.

    It also came with points in stealth.

    "I''m certain."

    When it came to open battle and stealth battle, Eli leaned toward thetter.

    Rends was a game where you could toss a rock off a lonely cliff and hit someone fighting a battle challenge. The system rewards were excellent if you won, even without the possibility of betting on yourself.

    The only way to get around a challenge was to have stealth abilities or speed abilities nearly twice greater than the opponent.

    Thest time around, he''d been challenged so much he would have personally sawn off his own arm to have stealth.

    He hadn''t joined even joined the wars!

    Mostly because he''d been too low-level for the guilds.

    But Scare hadn''t been hiding under a rock, either. The rumors of transmigrators killing transmigrators in the first year after the Quake because they were only doing what they were used to doing in-game, turned out to not be rumors.

    In a little over a year, everything was going to be real.

    And even now, more and more people were getting cut down, getting used to cutting down others. There was a sick feeling in Eli''s stomach.

    Battling monsters was¡­less philosophical.

    "Very well, Krow," the Attendant waved his hand and the rest of the cards vanished, leaving the image of the draculkar, two people back to back, with the background of a city half hidden behind mist and clouds.

    "You have chosen the race of Draculkar, those who seek the skies."

    The card changed.

    The male draculkar turned until it was facing him, and the city disappeared into white cloud.

    The card erged until it was full-size.

    Krow just knew, this was what his avatar looked like.

    The card had turned into a mirror.

    He lifted his hands, turning them over.

    Draculkar skin had a tinge of darkening evening to it, with a hint of moonlight in the undercolor. At least ording to a bard he''d heard once.

    Eli''s skin was twilight pale, a purple-blue hue, and dark waves of raven hair fell down his shoulders. The hair was a little ufortable. His had always been short.

    "Can I braid this?"

    The Attendant snapped their fingers. "You can choose to change the structure of the avatar up to 20% of the base body."

    "Huh." Eli felt his hair move, and waited until it was done.

    Creepy.

    He turned his head from side to side, checking how it looked in the mirror-card. The result was a series of braids tied back into a ponytail. His dual pointed ears were visible against the dark hair.

    There was a rather distinctive pattern of scales on his temples in the space between the edge of the eye and the ear,rger than the delicate designs of siren scales.

    The scale patterns were a dark purple, nearly ck.

    The headset scanned the biologics of the user at the beginning, so the face looking back at him was his own.

    "Change the face about ten percent, maybe? Random but symmetrical." Eli watched in fascination as his face in the card changed. "Another two percent¡­.that''s it. Looks great, thanks."

    "Of course."

    Eli considered his avatar, then nodded in satisfaction.

    It was different enough not to be instantly recognizable and yet close enough to recognize echoes of himself in the avatar.

    The skew on the facial features of each yer maxed out at twenty percent. That was enough to be a different person.

    Thest time, he went the full 20% and experienced a distant disorientation every time he looked in the mirror until he epted that his own face had changed so much.

    The gold of the eyes was a little disconcerting.

    "Can we change the eye color to something brown?" Closer to his natural eye color.

    "A shade of copper, is the nearest within draculkar parameters."

    "Copper, huh? Alright."

    Eli bent his knees, getting used to his body. He stumbled a little.

    "What height am I now?"

    "One hundred and ny centimeters." The Attendant answered crisply.

    Too tall.

    "Can we tone it down to 185?"

    One hundred and eighty-five centimeters was two inches taller than Eli''s natural height. He should be able to get used to it faster.

    "It is within the tolerances for non-hybrid draculkar height."

    Eli looked at the Attendant sharply. "It''s possible to gain a hybrid race?"

    "For the Draculkar, it is possible to cross with Sirens, Trollkin, and Dryads."

    "Would that give the resulting hybrid the natural strengths of the other races?"

    "It is possible to choose which one strength and one weakness a hybrid would have. The resulting visualbination, however, is random."

    Eli mulled that over, then asked. "How is it done?"

    If possible, he wanted the Vitality of the Trollkin.

    "A bloodvial of any of the threepatible races will cost two hundred fifty thousand drax."

    Hah, of course it wasn''t free.

    "Can I see a list?"

    The Attendant removed a scroll from his voluminous sleeves, and offered it to Eli.

    The weaknesses of the Trollkin in return for greater HP and VIT generation, involved lower Magical Aptitude or one less Spell Slot.

    He could conceivably survive as an Enchanter within those limits.

    On one hand, he needed VIT now, and he wasn''t going to train Enchanting untilter. On the other, VIT was trainable, and was the boost in VIT generation worth limiting himself in the future?

    It was possible he couldn''t gain the title of craftmaster again.

    Not to mention, he still had to buy Spells, and starting gear was viable only up to Lvl 10.

    "I don''t suppose there are half-vials or something?"

    The Attendant was silent, the hooded faceless fa?ade turned serenely to Eli''s direction.

    "¡­nevermind." Eli gave the scroll back. "I''m fine with pure draculkar."

    With draculkar as his race, he''de out in the Hagon mountain range, in the draculkar hignds.

    He didn''t know the starting viges there, as he chose humanst time and entered the game in a human vige. But he''d ended up in a town very near the mountains after the Quake.

    There was a quest he''d been doing in Alliance territory there. And after the Quake, he''d been recruited by Findrakon whose base was a nearby human vige. After the rebellion, he''d stayed in the same general area.

    That is to say, he knew the Hagon Mountains more than he knew any other part of Zushkenar. It was an advantage he wasn''t going to throw away.

    The Attendant waved again, and another set of cards appeared.

    "There are fifteen battle-sses, fifteen crafting sses, three hundred and seventy-five subsses. Krow, you may choose one ss for battle, one ss for craft, and four of the subsses."

    Eli leaned closer to the firstyer of cards. The battless for a draculkar had to have magic or waste the advantages of the race.

    *

    **

    End of Chapter

    **

    Notes:

    If you like the story, please support the author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

    Also, for those who are interested, there is a copy of a Zushkenar map here: Hunters Guide map cities grid b by kilrain on DeviantArt

 Chapter 12 - The Hall Of Choosing (2)

    Choosing a battless had taken him weeks of looking through the Rends forums when he had free time from upgrading headsets.

    The crazy discussion he''d recorded at Hazelnutsward bistro had been very helpful in narrowing down the choices for him.

    A Rends yer had four major Stats: STR, DEX, MND, VIT.

    Strength influenced damage and critical strikes.

    Dexterity also influenced critical strikes, as well as attack evasion and attack speed.

    Mind Focus influenced everything magic rted, from power to adaptability.

    Vitality influenced health, endurance, as well as recovery from various attacks.

    To choose sses for maximum monster hunting potential, he had to keep the Stats in mind.

    "I''ll take the Enchanter as my crafting ss." Eli stated first, to get it out of the way.

    The Attendant, about to introduce the sses, was unperturbed. "Are you certain?"

    "Yes."

    The Attendant waved a hand, and the fourteen other craft sses disappeared.

    Having chosen Enchanter as his crafting ss, a great deal of his stat gain in the future would go to MND.

    The battless he chose should also be attentive to MND, so increasing his Stats would increase the ability of both his chosen sses.

    There were a few magic-rted battlesses that had attracted him.

    He''d briefly considered Golem summoning, but he had to build the golems himself and that was expensive. So very, very expensive when at low levels the golems would be destroyed at every battle.

    Wolf Warrior would be excellent if he could get people to ignore the fact that draculkar looked down on the vargvir race even though they were nominally allied.

    If he transmigrated to Zushkenar as a draculkar Wolf Warrior¡­.

    Eli chortled at the notion.

    It would be interesting, but maybe too interesting for him.

    And the Forged ss?

    No way.

    He''d be run out of the whole Hagon mountain range by the outrage of the entire draculkar race. They were too proud of their blood and perfect bodies to countenance any ''improvements''.

    Oh,e to think of it, maybe it was a good thing he hadn''t chosen to hybridize himself.

    "I''d like to see what data you have on Spellcaster, Battlemage, and Sharpshooter. Oh, the Barriermage too, please. I won''t choose from the rest."

    All but the four cards disappeared.

    Eli touched the cards to erge their descriptors. Not much was different from the information he already had.

    The draw to Spellcaster was that it gave an additional 3 Spell Slots, and a +1 to Magical Aptitude.

    Aptitude was how powerful a magic-user could be. All yers were given 6 Spell Slots. A Spell could be bought or gained from a quest, or created by a yer.

    The level of Spells a yer used didn''t depend on their game levels but on the Aptitude they had and their MND.

    MND was the one stat in Rends that everyone raised by using items and essories.

    Because of this, regr yers could do nearly as much as a Spellcaster with just the regr 6 Spell Slots if they had a good Aptitude roll and put together some good spell-chains.

    The Spellcaster ss didn''t hold weapons, and was too limited unless the yer got lucky and gained a few excellent Spells early. Or bought them from the shops. Of course, if they were also lucky enough to gain a couple of MND items, then all the better.

    If Eli remembered correctly, a rank-three Spell cost about 1200 golden drax. Then a rank-four Spell about five or six times that. A single MND item was even more expensive.

    When the Quake happened, Eli was still doing quests that rewarded in silver serpens, not gold drax.

    A ss that used weapons and had additional Spell slots was the Battlemage. It was pretty tempting, really. But with Battlemages, there was no recourse without a weapon to channel the magic.

    Then again, the Spell slots would take care of that.

    He contemted the Barriermage. It would be really useful in corralling the prey he was hunting.

    Bringing out a Barriermage''s full potential at low and mid-levels was too dependent on terrain. Barriermages usually took up long range weapons, rifles or bows, to offset the disadvantages, but the Hagon mountains was full of trees and canyons.

    Barriermages worked best in open areas unless they had high Aptitude and a high level, then they were a terror anywhere.

    Eli had seen a few battles with high-level barrier mages; their ability to control the battlefield was truly horrifying.

    It would be really useful for a newbie solo monster hunter. In the ins.

    There was little known about Sharpshooters on the forums. A ss based on crossbows, bows, pistols, rifles, darts, blowguns, slings, the description stated.

    He''d spent an hour reading through all the facts and spections and calctions the forums had on sharpshooters, but couldn''t gain much datapared to the Battlemage he was leaning toward.

    A stealthy battlemage would be a terror anywhere.

    There was an already tested magic rifleman build using the draculkar race, but the OP concluded that it was too much trouble. To maintain a reasonable amount of efficiency in the upper levels, the yer needed to make their own bullets as the standard mage-bullets in shops were only effective up to Lvl 40 opponents.

    Like the battlemage ss, it was dependent on weapons.

    He was going with a battle/crafter build anyway, so bullets wouldn''t be too much trouble.

    What the sharpshooter had that the battlemage ss didn''t was a long-range option. It was weak in closebat, but the draculkar race had the second highest base dexterity stat in the game.

    Dodging was a viable battle action. So was tactical retreat.

    Not to mention, it could possibly mesh better with shadow control than the battlemage ss.

    The main problem was that he needed to cart bullets around.

    He''d have the inventory system for a year but after that, hauling around a full kit would be a pain.

    The inventory system of the yers didn''t work in Zushkenar. So everyone woke in another world with their items strewn all around them.

    The lucky ones were those who acquired dimension-space items.

    Eli realized he was nning as if he''d chosen the Sharpshooter ss already, and sighed.

    Was he influenced by the gun lessons or did he take the lessons because he''d already had Sharpshooter in his heart from the first?

    He liked it for the massive potential for a versatile fighting style, because mage-bullets came in many vors and shapes. Eli didn''t know where to look to find Spells for his Spell Slots, but mage-bullets were avable in everyrge town and city.

    And also because, it was not inherently a close-range battless.

    He could admit to that.

    "I''ll choose the Sharpshooter ss."

    The Attendant confirmed his choice.

    Enchanter had good synergy with a Sharpshooter, as both of them required a specific amount of MND to do well. Sharpshooter needed DEX, which went well with the stealth and speed build he wanted.

    "I''ll take Scout and Butcher as two of the subsses." He hesitated, then nodded in resolve. "For thest, I''ll take Tinkerer."

    "You will sacrifice two subss slots to choose Tinkerer," the Attendant reminded him.

    "I know. Let''s do it."

    The detection abilities of the Scout subss were invaluable, and an active Butcher subss added two butcher knives to the weapons holdout of the yer after gaining First Apprentice rank: one heavy butcher knife, one light butcher knife.

    The added weapons would be helpful.

    Not to mention, the Butcher subss allowed monster hunters the ability to take monster ingredients from in animals beyond what the game''s item-drop system offered.

    Taking Tinkerer was an important part of his strategy of surviving after the Quake.

    Tinkerer took two subss slots because it was a jack-of-all-trades build, allowing the yer to pick up an additional 9 subsses. The catch was that all these subsses could only be leveled to 101% xp of First Apprentice.

    Subsses had nine skill-ranks: third apprentice, second apprentice, first apprentice, third wright, second wright, first wright, master, high master, grandmaster.

    Considering the really useful skills were learned in the wright ranks, limiting advancement to First Apprentice meant that most people considered Tinkerer a roleyer subss for casual gamers.

    The reason it was so important to Eli was because all subsses got a boost after the Quake. It was discovered early that while all the skills the yer learned in the major sses was ingrained into the body and mind, the subsses got a different kind of boost.

    Someone who never used his subss suddenly found that he could build seble items with it, for instance the former yer could brew eptable wine and beer, or bake eptable breads.

    The consensus was that the subsses got upgraded by an entire tier. A third apprentice got the skills of a third wright, a third wright got the skills of a master, and masters presumably got insane prodigy skills in their craft.

    The great majority of low-level transmigrators after the Quake owed their survival, the reason they didn''t starve to death, to these suddenly usable skills.

    Eli included.

    With Tinkerer subss, even if the skills he chose could only level to First Apprentice in-game, they''d be ranked First Wright after the Quake.

    More skills meant more chances of survival, meant more options.

    "What are you choosing for your Tinker subsses?"

    "Tracker and Scribe."

    Tracker meshed well with the skills of the draculkar race, in fact added a couple of points to VIT when leveled up. Eli could deal with using only apprentice-rank Tracker skills in-game if he could master Scout.

    Then Scribe, because after the Quake, only scribes, historians, and bards kept their ability to read thenguages of Zushkenar.

    It was easy to magic the knowledge into the brain, but Eli didn''t want the hassle. Andbined with the Enchanter ss, Scribes had the ability to write simple contracts at First Apprentice level.

    "Attendant, can I gain merchant quests with the ountant subss?"

    "Yes, but with less incidence than actually taking the Trader subss."

    "Which of the two deals better with developingnd?" He needed a financial subss for his ns to buy and developnd after the craft update.

    "As a draculkar, the ountant."

    Eli paused. "If not a draculkar?"

    "Then the Moneychanger subss."

    "Why?"

    "Wouldn''t you like to find out yourself?"

    Eli lifted a dumbfounded brow at the Attendant. "I know you know."

    "Where would the fun be in having all the answers at once?"

    "It would be over-powered curbstomping fun, Attendant."

    "But it wouldn''t be fun for those who are curbstomped and ground under the heels of the powerful, would it?"

    Eliughed, without humor. "I hate it, but you''re right."

    The Attendant just stared at him with that evaluating empty fa?ade.

    "I''ll take the ountant. And then the Soldier."

    There was a subss called ''Knight'' that was better for solo battle but it required an oath to a noble which Eli really didn''t want to deal with.

    Oaths were important in Zushkenar.

    The gamer knights who left the service of their lords after the Quake without the proper procedure were shunned as far as the offended lorddy could publicize their dishonor.

    Too much trouble.

    Soldier was a goodpromise, though it came without the massive leadership and horseriding stats of Knight. Both Knight and Soldier allowed the chance to gain added Reputation with a nation while leveling up a battless.

    Eli took it mostly for the passive effects and the ability to gain government-supplied work. He had no intention of joining the army.

    "Smelter. Does this work with stone?"

    "In limited capacity, If you wish to melt stone, you need Stonesinger or Stoneforger."

    "I mean, will it work with gems?"

    "If added to the abilities of an Enchanter, yes."

    Well, great.

    "I''ll take it then."

    Eli needed Smelter to make the bullets of the guns. And the analysis of metals. Apparently it went well with the Enchanter ss. Also a good way to acquire metalsmith quests.

    He scrolled through the list of subsses carefully, then caught a sentence.

    "Wait, Clockmaker can analyze and cut gemstones? Those aren''t Miner skills?"

    "Miners are more utilized to finding gemstones and mineralogical analysis. Their skills in cutting gemstones are lesserpared to the Clockmaker."

    He''d been looking for Miner toplement the Enchanter, but Clockmaker sounded more versatile.

    The metalsmithing skills and knowledge of basic mechanics woulde in handy, since the Mafmet race enjoyed a rabid monopoly on various mechanical skills.

    As far as he could tell, the subss Clockmaker was a Jeweler by another name. That meant Eli could acquire quests involving gems and precious metals, with added delicate machinery.

    He''d just freed a slot for another subss, as Jeweler would be redundant with Clockmaker.

    "I''ll take Clockmaker. Oh, Acrobat, I''ll need that."

    The Acrobat was chosen purely for the added Dexterity.

    The increase in dodge chances and speed was important.

    "I''ll add Leatherworker and Forester." Eli finished. Then he peered at the list. "No, not Forester. Bombardier. That works with rifles, yes?"

    He was nning to have a long-range option sooner orter.

    The Attendant agreed. "It does."

    The Leatherworker subss worked well with Butcher, which meant greater EXP gain. Also, it was the subss that saved his life. He knew it best out of all the subsses.

    Eli wasn''t nning on making armor yet, but the curing solutions that dominated the apprentice levels could get him some potion-making quests. Not to mention it would make him money at low-levels.

    Eli paused, then frowned. Bombardier was good for long range heavy attacks but if he was already making his own bullets, it would be redundant sooner orter, wouldn''t it?

    "Does the Bombardier subss have effect on low-level mage-bullets?"

    "It is more effective with more destructive bullets."

    "That''s not a helpful statement." Wasn''t that obvious?

    "Isn''t it?" The Attendant murmured.

    Eli sighed. It looked like Bombardier was for when he leveled Enchanter enough to make high-level bullets.

    "Not Bombardier then. How about Ghostcaller instead?" Eli tapped one of the still numerous cards. "Can this Ghostcaller scout through walls?"

    "It is a spirit ss."

    "Unhelpful."

    Ghostcaller allowed him to summon 3 spirits. The description noted that the subss allowed the spirits to take one hit for the yer.

    With the low VIT of the draculkar race, a subss that increased survival chances was invaluable.

    Eli nned to use them as scouts.

    The Scout ss was limited to visual range. If they could scout, Ghostcaller would be invaluable.

    You can never have too many eyes when hunting monsters; especially if they are intelligent hunters, or operate in packs, or both.

    "I''ll take it. That''s thest one, right?"

    "It is." The Attendant made the rest that weren''t selected vanish. "For your main subsses, you have chosen Scout, Butcher, and Tinkerer. For your Tinker subsses: Tracker, Scribe, ountant, Soldier, Smelter, Clockmaker, Acrobat, Leatherworker, and Ghostcaller."

    Eli considered again.

    Choosing was difficult when a lot of the subsses were added with the war expansion. Which meant the old craftmasters didn''t have data on the forums for them.

    Eli would have liked to acquire Forester or Herbalist, since it would allow him to better forage for useful nts, but most of the low-level Forester skills were about spotting useful items and nts. His experience in Zushkenar was enough to ingrain some of that knowledge in him.

    Then there was a library quest for a herbarium of a kind, wasn''t there? He''d remember which library it was sooner orter, probably.

    And if he needed Herbalist, he could always take a quest with an Apothecary to gain the subss.

    It''s not like yers were prevented from gaining subsses in-game. It was just easier to level a subss chosen during the character creation.

    The sses taken during creation have some influence in the craft quests given by NPCs as well.

    That ended the ss selection page.

 Chapter 13 - The Hall Of Choosing (3 Of 3)

    "The Ancients have distilled from the forces of the world, ten elements. Their descendants, their conquerers, their legacies, have waged change upon the world with this connection to that which lies between life and death."

    The Attendant, after that small speech, lifted his hand once more. "Fire. Water. Air. Floral. Faunal. Stone. Metal. Lightning. Light. Shadow. Choose, Krow, the power which would define your path in the winding weave of the world."

    Ten pedestals rose from the ground, each with a misty representative of said elements.

    Eli had to step back quickly to avoid being hit under the chin with the rising stones.

    He sent the Attendant a re.

    "I definitely didn''t miss you," he muttered under his breath.

    For non-magic-users and magic-users both, the selection of elements influenced what kind of enchanted weapons and items were best used. Since every yer had Spell Slots and Magical Aptitudes it also impacted which Spells and magics were more efficient and effective to use.

    Element selection was an important part of personal y-style and character build.

    There were element interactions to take into ount.

    For instance lightning and water had great synergy together that they could create a powerful attack or defense, with great critical strike potential.

    Lightning and metal had a little synergy which allowed for metallic lightning weapons, but a battlemage couldn''t channel powerful lightning Spells through a metal weapon without the metal being specially enchanted.

    Then lightning and fire had unstable synergy so in using them together they might sputter out or explode in a massive congration.

    There were people who had used lightning and fire together to terrifying effectiveness, but they wore a ton of essories and items to stabilize thebination.

    Most of Eli''s usable data on the subject of elements was from the bistro discussion.

    But even that didn''t touch much on the synergistic potential of an element when choosing a yer''s armor, weapons, and Spells.

    The most concrete facts that Eli had on the subject of power synergy was vaguely remembered data from the future. In this time, the synergistic interactions between elements and a yer''s equipment weren''t fully studied yet.

    So Eli had to analyze the battles he saw in Zushkenar using game data if he wanted to determine what synergies would be useful to him.

    Still, elemental selection gave a person an affinity for the element; it didn''t mean that the person couldn''t use other elements, only that their personal affinity was their best bet for the most efficient use of magic.

    A personal element was easier to learn and control.

    Eli''s personal elemental affinity though, he''d already decided long ago.

    "I''ll pick the Shadow."

    "Step forward," the Attendant intoned as the nine other pedestals lowered back into the ground. "and confirm your affinity with the Shadows."

    Eli didn''t bother asking the Attendant anything this time.

    There had been a draculkar shadow mage, a native, not a former yer, who had made an impression on Eli by using shadows like they were extensions of their body.

    Even now, Eli didn''t know the person''s name, their gender, or even why they saved his life. He wasn''t even sure the person was a mage-build, only that they used shadows so efficiently, much more than they used spells or weapons.

    They did use throwing knives.

    That was why Eli knew that Shadow went very well with a mid-range fighting style making use of projectiles.

    He didn''t need assurance that building a Shadow Sharpshooter was possible and effective.

    He already knew it was.

    Rends only gave out 5 revival chances to gamers.

    After that, the yers had to pay the ridiculously extortionate fee for revival which in part included losing levels, gold, then a 24-hour ''resurrection'' period.

    When you consider that one day IRL was two days in-game, no one wanted to die uselessly.

    In Zushkenar, there were no revival chances.

    His chosen element thest time was Light, because swordbearers generally became knights or clerics ¨C at least, most knights in the popr Rends videos used swords.

    But even in Zushkenar, he''d rarely used his element. It was not generallypatible with Leatherworking, and he only used it once he reached mastery level in the craft and learned some enchanting skills.

    Most of his use of Light was rted to battle.

    This time, he''d checked his elemental interactions more carefully.

    Eli was loath to waste the major advantage that was Synergy between choices in his character creation like thest time.

    A yer''s chosen element affected all the magic rolls. And in Zushkenar, life was so much simpler with magic.

    It was just ironic that the element that fit the build he was slowly pulling together in his head was the exact opposite of hisst chosen affinity.

    As for Enchanting with Shadows, there were several posts onplementary projects.

    Alright, they were only theories, but the poster was a craftmaster, so Eli was optimistic.

    Eli ced his hand into the purply mist that represented the Shadow element. He felt a tingling that went into his bones.

    If he had a chronic illness, he thought idly, he''d probably panic about this.

    The mist was absorbed into his avatar body.

    "Congrattions." The Attendant offered as the pedestal lowered itself, now empty. "You have a good affinity with Shadow."

    "Thank you." Eli looked at the Attendant suspiciously. They had neverplimented him before.

    But the Attendant had already moved past it. "We will now turn to the selection of soul."

    Eighteen cards appeared.

    "Choose the image that most resonates with yourself."

    Eli waited, but like before, there was no exnation given. He cursed under his breath.

    Disappointing.

    Even Premium ount users didn''t get a divine exnation, it seemed.

    And the cards were onlybeled with mysterious Names.

    There was plenty of spection in the forums, about these cards. The most popr was that it was rted to luck, even if there was no luck stat.

    He didn''t know why the developers made yers choose this way. It would be more interesting to choose if there was even a short description of the god, right?

    This was what Gazzy meant when he mourned that there wasn''t a lot of the lore released?

    Thest time, he''d chosen the second most eye-catching card: Galmentir of Creation, depicted by a moon-pale suit of armor with gold and ck ents.

    Zushkenari legends, particrly in the areas where there were dwarvirmunities, spoke of The Paragon who walked thends defeating enemies and monsters, who would not stand for injustice, who toppled tyranny and uplifted integrity.

    At least his eye for choosing an appropriate god went with his battless thest time, Eli supposed.

    Now that he''d spent years in Zushkenar, there was no way he was going to choose a Creation god as a personal totem spirit or whatever this divine rtionship was going to be after the Quake.

    Entertainment was scarce during his time in Zushkenar. The locals liked to tell divine legends, so when huddling around a tiny campfire trying not to attract monsters, he and the rest of the transmigrators caught in the lies of Findrakon always called for story after story from the locals.

    What he''d learned was that Destruction and Creation were very far from synonymous to evil and good.

    It was more in the realm of order and chaos, life and death, things that no single mortal could influence.

    From the stories told, he could see that Creation gods were meddlers, so they were the ones with the most priests and exposure in Zushkenar.

    Of course, certain Destruction gods were popr as well.

    But as a whole the gods of Destruction were generally more neutral and hands-off than the gods of Creation.

    But they were unpopr; Chronakem, for example, almost had no worshippers.

    Eli wanted to question: since when were clocktowers so popr in ancient times that a god traditionally had one as a symbol?

    Did Rends have ''destruction of an ancient advanced civilization'' in its lore storyline? Was that what made the clocktower to be Chronakem''s go-to symbol?

    Then again, Chronakem had the domain of Time after all.

    There were no known time-magics in Zushkenar, so the Timekeeper was not a god that was worshiped by many.

    Eli stared at the card depicting the clocktower.

    In fact, the only thing that could be called time-magic was¡­his situation.

    He felt a chill down his back and tried not to nce at the massive watching sculpture on his right.

    Why did he realize this only now?

    Was it even Chronakem''s doing?

    He reached out to touch the card.

    Paused.

    Something in him didn''t want to choose a god just because it looked like his second chance was his doing. He withdrew his hand.

    No.

    Chronakem was not for him.

    He caught sight of the next Destruction card, with the stylized depiction of a jellyfish withrge white shining eyes and a metal helm. Takrul, better known by the people of Zushkenar as the Shadowed God.

    No way.

    He rejected it immediately.

    Eli had already chosen the Shadow element. If he chose Takrul now, he might identally do something in the future that would qualify him as a priest.

    He was not a religious person, and wanted to pass up any chance of a smiting.

    Also, the subss of priest was limited in utility.

    Next card.

    Kamathor, the Opener of Doors, was too involved with Luck and Fortune for his liking.

    He didn''t like surprises.

    Next.

    He stopped at the depiction of another tower.

    It was basically a ck library shelf, reaching to the sky, crevices filled with gray and golden books. There were three burning eyes in a pyramid formation at the top of the tower.

    Albangaltor of Destruction, known in Zushkenar by the epithet: Father of Knowledge.

    He had no temples, and the worshippers most connected to him were the temples of learning and secrets that were dedicated to his children, the Aedys, the seven spirits of knowledge.

    In other words, Albangaltor was the divinely nerdy shut-in of the Zushkenar pantheon.

    Perfect.

    "This one. Albangaltor."

    "Are you certain?" The Attendant asked impassively. "Choose well, Krow."

    "I''m not sure. But I''ll still choose this one."

    "As you wish."

    Eli reached to touch the card, which glowed for a moment, then dimmed.

    The card suddenly dissolved into a summary of his character page, and set itself beside the avatar image card.

    Name: s Krow

    Race: Draculkar (Male)

    Element: Shadow

    Battless: Sharpshooter

    Crafterss: Enchanter

    Subss: Scout

    Butcher

    Tinkerer ::|Expand|::

    Eli considered his avatar.

    The default hairstyle for draculkar was a tail of waist-length hair.

    Eli chose to braid it, rather than cut it because from what he knew of the race, it was traditional to have long hair for adults. Short hair was for children.

    If he wanted to be taken seriously, then the long hair stayed.

    He groaned audibly.

    Maybe he could change shorter, then change it again in a year¡­or he should get used to it before the Quake.

    It didn''t matter what hairstyle he used as long as the hair was the appropriate length, right?

    He really should''ve just chosen the Vargvir race if this was the amount of thinking he had to do about hair.

    In his defense, he only remembered just now.

    Apart from Gazzy and Fin, who''d been yers, and a few other acquaintances, his friends were mostly of Zushkenar.

    One of them was the stuck-up runaway that was Gomrje Ogvaander, of the mighty race of the draculkar. He liked to grumble about the family and n that couldn''t ept his non-traditional social interactions.

    Eli learned some things about the draculkar even when he ignored the daily ranting.

    He shook his head.

    The avatar was wearing a in white tunic, brown trousers, and ck slip-on footwear.

    He reminded himself to buy some good boots as soon as possible.

    He knew someone who sold those ck slip-ons for sixty silver serpens after the Quake. That was luxury level already, for footwear.

    The clothing slots were: head, face, shoulders, chest, arms, hands, waist, legs, feet.

    The essory slots were: 1 brow, 6 ear, 3 neck, 4 wrist, 6 finger, 4 ankle.

    For premium ounts, there were added essory slots for 2 upper arm and 2 toe.

    That may seem a lot for essories but enchanted items improved the adaptability and customizability of a character build.

    There were three pages for equipment sets that even the transmigration didn''t touch. Each ''set'' could be swapped with what the yer was wearing at any time. It meant yers and former yers could change battle-tactics on the fly depending on situation.

    Of course, because of the cost and rarity, low-level gamers just used the spare slots for cosmetic purposes.

    "You have been epted." The Attendant said solemnly.

    Again, no exnation.

    Sadly, Eli was getting used to this.

    "We shall now begin the testing. Please take the testing tool from the bowl." The Attendant gestured to the original pedestal. Two familiar objectsy in the bowl.

    "They''re dice."

    It was a game of chance. What testing tool?

    "Nevertheless." The Attendant gestured again.

    Eli walked forward to take the dice, overturning the conical bowl to get them.

    The Attendant nodded in approval. "Let your power seep into the tool, and then return them to the bowl."

    The bowl''s bottom was shaped conically, so unfortunately, the dice would hit the bowl walls no matter what. He could probably nudge the roll a little, but not much.

    Eli shook the dice in his palm, recalling Zushkenari lessons on how to channel magic using the body.

    Then he dropped the dice, careful to let one fall before the other.

    They tumbled over and over as they descended. The first hit the wooden bowl and bounced, the second fell directly without interference until both stopped.

    Eli red at the result tly.

    The gods were definitelyughing at him.

    Like before, the dice had fallen into a parallel trajectory and had lodged in perfect position for the two to stop while not reaching the bottom, each dice caught against the narrow space by the pressure exerted by the other.

    The Attendant nodded over the bowl. "You have been tested with a Magical Aptitude at eleventh-rank."

    An Aptitude of 11 was on the upper end of high for most of the races. But for a draculkar, it was only the peak of above-average.

    If Eli remembered correctly, Draculkar had a racial bonus of +3 Aptitude, and choosing the Enchanter ss was a +1. So technically, his roll was 7 out of 12.

    Still decent, as average Aptitude in most of Rends was 3-6.

    Thest time, he got a 5, which was not enough to fully draw out the potential of his primary crafting ss, Armorer. That was one of the reasons he concentrated on his subsses rather than the main one.

    "Sounds like fun." Enchanter needed at least 9 Aptitude to really advance to the grandmastery, so Eli was happy.

    "Your time in the Halls of Choosing has been fruitful, Krow."

    "It has," Eli agreed cheerfully.

    "Come then, and choose the weapon you will use to battle for your life. In thends of Zushkenar, those without conviction, without will, withoutmitment, lose to those who believe."

    The pedestals rose again. This time, showing a revolver, a blowpipe, and a recurve bow.

    Eli chose the revolver.

    Eli checked the revolver, turning it around in his hands. It was not as in as the ones he''d shot at the range. For one, the barrel, chamber, and stock were etched and decorated in ways that would make it impractical in real life.

    The Attendant watched as Eli strapped the revolver to his right leg, the ammunition pouches hanging secure from the gunbelt on his hips.

    "Our time is at an end, s Krow."

    Eli touched his forehead, the parody of a salute, but was how the Zushkenari bowed. "It was an honor, Attendant."

    "It was." The Attendant touched his forehead in the same way, more graceful and elegant than Eli ever could. "Remember, the choices you made at this point only influence your time in the game as much as you let them. It is for those who live in the world to adapt to the world or make the world adapt to them."

    And then, between one blink and the next, Eli was alone.

    The new yer scoffed. "That guy¡­"

    He already knew that.

    The race-ss-weapon-element choosing was just a guide.

    By the time a yer hit Lvl 30 or above, they knew how to exploit the dynamic nature of the game mechanics for themselves ¨C you''d see people who started out as pure weapons-users cast massive spells, and initial support-builds suddenly able to briefly tank on the front-lines.

    At higher levels, there''d be people taming beasts left and right without a beastmaster ss.

    The initial build only gave the yer a way to start the game.

    It remained true that it was easier to level and use the sses and skills chosen at character creation, but how the yer progressed in the game depended on the creativity with which they used what they chose.

    When he first entered the game, there were yers on RedVisor and the forums who sold Specialization Build Patterns, which enumerated choices and quests to create particr avatar builds by Lvl 20-30.

    Eli couldn''t remember if there was a Build-Pattern for monster hunter.

    He tried to create his avatar with strong basics that would work together no matter the level. What uncertainty he had, he hid behind determination.

    This was a game that would determine his next life.

    With the disappearance of the Attendant, the giftbox wheel appeared on the pedestal.

    It shone gold, rather than the silver glow he remembered.

    Because he chose a premium ount this time, probably.

    Tsk.

    Pay more to win more, he thought dryly.

    Eli spun the wheel without looking at the categories. They hadn''t changed. Artifact, Book, Spell, Talent, Luck.

    The colors on the wheel blurred together.

    [You have won one (1) Golden Giftbox from the Artifact category!]

    He opened it.

    Thest time, he''d gotten a mask from a Silver Giftbox. The mask, in fact, that had made him change his original avatar name to StrawmanScare.

    Come to think of it, a giftbox from the Spell category would be better.

    [You have acquired one (1) Darkfall Hooded Cape!]

    Oh?

    He let the fabric of the cape fall over his arms.

    It was an enchanted cape, with +2 to Dexterity for every level up.

    Yes, well, Dexterity was needed because who fought in a cape?

    Drac?

    No, he mostly lurked rather than fought outright.

    Count Dooku from the old Star Wars films of a century ago? There was a unit on ssic films in university, and the cape was nearly the same style.

    It was probably the reason Dooku got decapitated; the cape dragged him down.

    There was also an Attack Blocking enchant on the item itself

    The mask he got before was an ordinary one, no enchantments at all. So much difference between Silver and Golden Giftboxes? Tsk.

    Eli equipped the cape. It fell softly down to his calves in the back. It tapered upward to the front, where the hem was at his shins.

    Hm, not too heavy at all. It settled on his shouldersfortably, a decorated metal chainclip holding the front together.

    He flipped the soft hood up over his head, then let it fall back again.

    At least it covered most of the newbie starter clothing.

    He moved his arms experimentally. As expected, it would be difficult in a fight.

    He flung one side of the cape over his shoulder to get it out of the way, then twirled his new revolver in one hand and holstered it like a cheesy film cowboy.

    Smirking at himself, he confirmed all his selections and closed out of the character creation page.

    s Krow was ready to step into Rends.

    The temple of the eighteen gods dissolved around him.

 Chapter 14 - The Village Of Gremut

    Krow materialized near the central fountain of his starting vige. He was greeted by three wyverns gracefully twining around each other, a dance of air and majesty.

    The fountain was made of pale, nearly translucent stone, something between marble and opal.

    It sparkled a little, if the light hit the surface right.

    A lightugh sounded beside him.

    Krow whirled, startled.

    It was a young draculkar woman; her skin had more moonlight than his, morevender than twilight blue.

    It looked like she was carrying a basket from the marketce when he appeared.

    "You can tell neers by how they stare at the wyverns," she smiled.

    The game filter on his visuals said she was an NPC. Krow mentally turned off that filter and lifted his brows at her. "And how you''ve never seen them before?"

    "Never heard you before either."

    The slight emphasis she yfully ced on the word ''heard'' caught Krow''s attention. He studied her, the part of her headdress half-concealing her eyes.

    And was immediately awkward.

    She was blind.

    Then he blinked. "How did you know I was staring at the wyverns?"

    She beamed at him, then leaned close. Krow mimicked her with a smile, unable to help himself though already knowing what she would say, caught by her aura of irrepressible good humor.

    "It''s a secret!"

    Krowughed.

    Sheughed with him.

    Was it possible to have echolocation Spells? He''d never heard of them, but they''d be exceedingly useful.

    "What''s your name?"

    "Velinel. And you, traveler, what do you call yourself?"

    "Krow. Call me Krow."

    "Wee, Krow, to the vige of Gremut!"

    "Thank you. I have seen your wyverns. But are they the best sights in the vige?" Krow asked warmly. "Or are those a secret as well?"

    "The best-best parts of the vige are a secret. We don''t know each other that well." She grinned. "But the middling-best parts of the vige, well you''ve already gawked at one of them."

    That was a hint to increase his Reputation, wasn''t it? He remembered a simr wording from the shopkeeper who''d greeted him thest time he entered the game as a human.

    Hint received, Velinel.

    Krow smiled at her. "Surely you cannot leave me hanging at just one? The wyverns are too fierce an impression to leave me with, yes?"

    "Of course! How can I leave my own countryman with such a ferocious impression of our peaceful locale? No dangers here at all!"

    Krow stifled a snicker at her sarcastically chipper act.

    Of course there was danger.

    This was a starting vige.

    She repressed her growing smile at his poorly hidden amusement.

    "But, as a proud member of this vige, I say leave the wyverns and instead see the spires. The vige maintains a tradition of ssweaving and has for centuries." She waved her hand in an upward arc.

    Krow''s gaze followed.

    Draculkar preferred towers to live in, but nothing said they''d be so artful.

    These were no mere towers. Velinel called them spires.

    Just looking at them, there was an impression of delicate slenderness.

    But Krow and Velinel were standing near the base of one, and just the ground floor lookedrge enough to contain ten of Uncle Kazan''sundry trucks.

    The vige had six spires, the upper parts being living and work spaces. The lower parts didn''t have many windows and from the stairs that bypassed several levels, the bases of the spires might be storage.

    The housing spires were ringed with stained-ss windows and decorative finials, with walls made of rock crystal and balustrades gleaming in the light of the sun.

    Floating stairs run up the sheer face of the mountain and connected the spires to each other.

    There were ss, crystal, stone mosaics everywhere.

    "Amazing."

    The color and grace of centuries of artistry filled Krow''s eyes.

    On Earth, these spires would be restricted ess, as preservation took precedence over tourists trampling all over a heritage site.

    He''d only ever seen Earth''s many wonders over a monitor.

    Of course, it wasn''t precisely ''seeing'' here either.

    But¡­

    Even after years in Zushkenar and marveling over how people casually entered grand ruins or destroyed historic buildings and forests, he was still a child who had grown up with green initiatives and cultural preservation paramount in media and school.

    Deciding to be a monster hunter flew in the face of those teachings.

    But in Krow''s mind, there wasn''t a hint of regret for that decision.

    "If you think so, perhaps one of these days, you might apprentice yourself to a ssweaver." Velinel''s pride in her vige was evident. But within that pride, there was a hint of mncholy.

    Had she been apprenticed herself?

    That was a subtle quest prompt, and he knew how these things worked.

    Unfortunately, he didn''t n on staying in Gremut long.

    Taking the beginner quests was a prelude to officially dering this vige his hometown, and Krow had another ce in mind for that. There were Rep bonuses in a yer''s dered hometown, and he needed all the advantages he could get.

    "Your vige is blessed," Krow praised. "One day perhaps I will return for a longer stay, but I only have a few days before I travel again."

    "Oh, that''s too bad. At least be here until after Aerd. We would be honored if you join the Chant."

    Chant? Was that why Gojo liked humming songs every now and then at dawn or sunset?

    "But also, have you seen the world yet?"

    "Huh?"

    Velinel grinned impishly. She grabbed his cloak hem and dragged him to the waist-high rail at the other end of the za.

    Unlike the human vige by the sea that served as his starting vige thest time around, this vige was built on the high side of a cliff.

    The central za he was in was separated from a dead drop by a delicately carved stone and ss balustrade.

    Velinel grasped the rail, and looked out at the ''world'' arrayed around them, distant and separate from the vige.

    Krow peered down carefully, and grimaced.

    He knew draculkar preferred high ces, but he didn''t think they would actively ce themselves in jeopardy like this.

    "What do you see?" Velinel asked, and her voice was airy, too light to be real.

    The vige was on a ledge that jutted out some distance below the edge of the cliff, but the spires of the vige towers rose higher than that edge and part of the vige was raised above the central za as a result.

    "I guess the great mass of green moss I''m seeing down there is a forest?" Krow''s voice wasn''t as light as hers, tinged with disbelief as it was at the height of the massive cliff they were on.

    "The travelers call it the Dalsantsfald, which means ''great barrier forest'' I think."

    Grandshield Forest.

    How well Krow knew those trees.

    There were groves of grandshield trees that wererger than thergest redwoods of Earth.

    He''d once heard that there were ancient trees of Earth reaching possibly twenty kilometers into the atmosphere. Those were the trees that grew in the deeper parts of Grandshield Forest.

    That they looked like moss from where he was standing only reinforced how high the vige was. Krow felt a little dizzy, thinking about it.

    Now he knew why people called the major draculkar towns ''sky cities'', if they were located in ces simr to Gremut Vige.

    "Grandshield Forest. It''s considered the oldest forest on the Marfall continent, barring the Isvalden in the north." He enumerated the facts more to ground himself than to enlighten her.

    "The cewoods!" Velinel beamed. "Have you seen it?"

    "Just the once. It was a very discouraging visit." Krow was never going north if he could help it. The snow, the cold, the wetness, blrgh.

    "Some don''t think it''s a proper forest."

    Well yeah, it was mostly mined stumps and frozen trees. The amber in them was valuable.

    "A forest is a forest until thest tree is rooted out of the earth."

    Velinelughed at him. "You sound like a dryad."

    "It would be soothing to be a dryad," Krow muttered. Sometimes, when he thought about what wasing, he envied the life of a tree.

    "I once thought the sight of Enilhadrad to beforting as well."

    Krow nced at her. Enilhadrad was thergest Zushkenari moon. Or rather, the locals called it a moon.

    It was a gas giant.

    The world of Rends was ironically the one on a moon.

    Fin once told him that the creative team was inspired by a rather famous picture of Jupiter rising at dawn in the obsidian sky of a space station.

    "Once?"

    Velinel didn''t answer, only asked another question. "How do you see it, the sky-mother?"

    "A reminder."

    That this was also a world.

    Nearly eight years had that great sphere dominated the skies that he lived under. It was a reminder of a ce that became home.

    "Is she currently high?"

    "It is early afternoon," Krow answered blithely, understanding that she wanted it described. "She is only cresting the northern skies, reclining andzy at a time that the rest of us have to trudge to work, the smug wattleblower. The shadows have hidden part of her but the skies are clear, and she is unclothed by clouds. Indecent of her, really. But mortals like us have to bear it with a sigh, longing in vain. Her surface, as ever, is a ce of swirling currents, beckoning in cream and blue ribbons, the cruel thing."

    Velinel started smiling halfway through his spiel and by the end was stifling giggles.

    Krow turned to look at her and finished drolly. "Veryforting, she is."

    The otherughed, mncholy forgotten. "Have you learned at the feet of bards, Krow the traveler?"

    He smiled at her. "I can''t sing."

    "A loss to the profession," she sighed dramatically.

    "You look the very picture of regret."

    "You really must join the Chants more, Krow. You might learn something."

    "What a thing to say to a new acquaintance."

    "I would rather hope a new friend wouldn''t take it to heart."

    They nced at each other, her only inclining her head. Then they fell into snickers.

    "You¡­you called the sky-mother azy seducing petticoat!" she gasped almost painfully between giggles.

    "You said it was poetic!" His situation was no better. "And implied I should learn to hide the sentiments in religious song!"

    "Pfft!" she muffled her mirth. "You won''t be the only one who did!"

    Krow choked, and the rest of hisughter was half-full of coughing.

    Many Zushkenari sang their faith to the gods.

    He hadn''t heard many, as he preferred stories to the songs. But he knew that to most of the races, religious music was a grave and borate thing.

    At least, what little he''d heard had been like that.

    The thought of the too solemn music hiding something like porn was sacrilegiously hrious.

    "Velinel?"

    Theyposed themselves quickly, and turned to the neer.

    It was also a draculkar, he looked like he''d be in a human''ste teens. But considering draculkar lifespan, he might be as old as Eli. He was also eyeing Krow with a fierceness that Krow didn''t think he warranted.

    He''d juste here less than a half-hour ago.

    No way had he made enemies already.

    "Derad," Velinel greeted, still smiling, cheeks flushed fromughter. "How have you been this day?"

    Derad blushed. "Very well. I hope you are, as well."

    "This is Krow the traveler, he has arrived here today and I am showing him the sights."

    Derad''s gaze cooled as he looked at Krow.

    Krow immediately understood, and hid his grin.

    Derad red in a frosty manner, as if sensing Krow''s amusement. His voice lowered in pitch, less polite and reverent. "You are not from here."

    "No," Krow agreed with a smile. "And I am bereft, as your town is a jewel among the stars in the sky."

    And Gojo said he didn''t listen to him. Hah.

    The other stood prouder unconsciously, slightly mollified but still suspicious. He nced between Krow and Velinel, who were still standing close. "A traveler must have seen brighter gems than humble Gremut."

    "Perhaps brighter yes, but as unique, no. Every jewel can be facetted differently, and Gremut is in a league of its own."

    Krow had never heard of ssweaving before.

    Maybe it was a unique draculkar craft?

    Velinel grinned at him. "Thinking about that apprenticeship, after all?"

    Derad''s face was dark. "You are staying, traveler?"

    "No," he told them both, with slight regret. Staying would be interesting, but he was more familiar with the foothills of the Hagons than the peaks where the draculkar dwelled. "There is a town I must find, before long."

    "You will see the workshops, at least, before you go?" Velinel coaxed cheerfully.

    "Of course, are they part of the best-best sights or am I still kept to middling-best?"

    "The second, of course," Velinel studied him with mock-hauteur. "Perhaps if you impress my father enough."

    Derad gasped like an outraged mother superior, and sputtered at Krow. "You¡­her father¡­impossible!"

    Krow ignored him and his rabid jumping to conclusions. "Your father is¡­a ssweaver?"

    Velinel grinned impishly. "Leader of the vige ssweavers, why?"

    "You are as cruel as the sky-mother."

    They both chortled at that.

    Derad stared at them like they were insane, brows twitching and countenance dimmed. His fists clenched and a determined look came into his eyes. He nearly growled his words. "I¡­I chal-"

    Velinel''s eyes widened in rm at his tone.

    Krow pped his shoulder, grinning wide. "Friend of my friend, do you know of any ce for a traveler to see near the vige?"

    Momentum interrupted, the other man looked slightly lost. "What?"

    "I only have days here in Gremut. I''d like a rmendation, as my new friend here," he nudged Velinel with a shoulder, "refuses me the best ces."

    Velinel scoffed and yfully bumped his shoulder back. "Cheating."

    "You could try the mushroom caves?" Derad offered nkly, then a glint of something shed through his eyes and he added: "Or the vinedder gardens. Very exciting."

    Krow didn''t miss the brief look of schadenfreude. He was looking for it, after all. "Vinedders?"

    "East of here," Velinel supplied. "There are many flowers at this time. But oh, maybe you should try to visit the mushroom caves instead. The flowers attract a number of monsters, you see."

    "Just came from there," Derad said quickly. "Mostly safe, I assure you."

    Krow smiled sharply.

    That was exactly what he was looking for.

    "I see. It sounds just what I''m looking for; I do like flowers."

    Derad sent him another unfriendly re at that statement.

    Krow giggled inwardly.

    "Would you bring me back some ringbell flowers?" Velinel asked obliviously.

    From the corner of his eye, Krow could just see the other man slowly slump dejectedly.

    Entertaining, but oh lord, did he just trap himself in the middle of this drama?

    "We''re running out of digestives at the house," the woman continued, "I couldn''t find them fresh at the market today."

    Derad perked up again.

    But this quest prompt wasn''t likely to be too serious, unlike the three or so he''d fended off in the earlier conversation. Probably the game system thought he was thickheaded for ignoring all those and sent a second AI to unsubtly badger him into taking a quest, any quest.

    Even a simple fetch quest.

    "If I find some, then alright. But you should ask Derad to try as well. There might be none at the gardens."

    Velinel smiled at Derad. "Oh, yes, that would be great. Would you?"

    "Of course!"

    The quest notification pinged. The circr sunburst design on his wrist lit up one of its points. The sunburst ''birthmark'' was something only yers could see ¨C the points corresponded to Map, Quest, Profile, Equipment, sses, Spell Slots, Inventory.

    Krow stayed to tease Derad a bit more, until the man was fuming and Velinel had caught on. With her amused disapproval at his back, he finally said goodbye to them both and let Derad the protective puppy escort her away.

    He tapped the glowing point on his wrist, which opened the notification, and smiled at his first recorded quest.

    |:Gather Ringbell Flowers:|

    [Category: Common (Beginner)]

    [Velinel the viger asked you to gather 20 Ringbell Flowers at the Vine Ladder Gardens. 0/20]

    [You will gain: +1 Reputation Points, +5 Experience Points, +3 Silver Serpens]

    "East, wasn''t it?"

    It was well known in the future that there were hidden quests in the starting viges. They were rmended because if you do them before the beginner quests, you''d have greater Rep.

    Greater Reputation meant the rewards of every quest from a viger would be increased by a significant fraction.

    There were different hints, but it was known that the hidden quests were mostly monster extermination and no viger was going to give a yer the quest outright.

    But these vinedder gardens, which attracted monsters?

    Fairlyrge hint there.

    Ahaha, the system really thought he was stupid, didn''t it?

    Krow started up the stairs on the cliff face.

    Still, East it was.

    *

    **

    End of Chapter

    **

    *

    Notes:

    If you see this work on other websites, know that the author Jin Daoran posts exclusively on the AllNovelFull site.. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 15 - The Vine Garden Quest (1)

    At the top of the steps was another za. It connected to part of the nearest spire with a covered bridge walkway.

    A screaming horde bumped into Krow, unexpectedly.

    "Hey!"

    "Sorry!" called a few preteen voices.

    "Be careful," Krow called back. The edge of the cliff wasn''t far after all.

    "Really sorry," murmured a passing older teen, her high ponytail showing off scales on her nape, glimmering healthy in the afternoon sunlight.

    She trotted after the children, steps almost dancing. A vargvir of simr age followed her, growling something unintelligible, feet dragging.

    He nodded at them, silent. Sirens and vargvir running wild in a draculkar vige?

    That was what just happened, right?

    Krow looked around carefully and was even more surprised.

    A group of dwarvir huddled in loud conference under the shadow of a stone pir,ughing and drinking.

    Humans and the odd trollkin strode among the caravans, loading and unloading goods.

    On the roof of one wagon were two vargvirparing knives and waving their arms excitedly while their feet dangled in air.

    Scare only had a single draculkar friend, who had several acquaintances that dropped by from time to time. His impression of the draculkar race was they were insr and racist. It was known that ess to their inner towns and cities were cut off from any who was not draculkar.

    And yet, here, an inner vige of the draculkar nation, there were other races interacting rather happily with the very tolerant locals.

    Thepany that bought Rends was a corporate giant, and it was known that the Artificial Intelligences used in Rends were some of the best.

    The NPC AIs would have been programmed to act ording to racial, personal, andmunity biases, for the greatest continuity of action and response to yers, and that meant this mingling of races was normal.

    At this time.

    Did something happen between now and the Quake?

    Likely.

    It would be 2.5 years of in-game time between now and then. The wars involved all the races. Many things could happen.

    Krow walked through the market at a good clip, lips lifting in a smile almost unconscious.

    He was back in Zushkenar, even if it was a facsimile of the world, and for the first time since he woke up after dying his shoulders didn''t feel like they were shrinking into each other, and the hard stone burbling acid in his gut was slowly dissipating.

    He passed through the market quickly.

    Well, ''market'' wasn''t precisely the word. It was just people stopping near the vige to rest, and then exchangingmodities with others who just happened to be stopping there as well.

    The smell of mixed spices in the air was familiar, painting the atmosphere stongly, and giving rise to faint hunger.

    At the far end of the gathering space, Krow stopped by a wagon that was unloading some baskets of cuji pears. He flicked a silver coin into the air, then held five fingers up.

    The siren lounging atop a pile of sacks in such a manner to show his iridescent scales to the fullest, grinned down at him charmingly. Krow rather thought it would work more if the sacks the siren was basking on weren''t full of unprocessed rockshrooms, which could charitably be said to smell profoundly-earthy.

    Then again, sirens were weird.

    Said siren held up two fingers.

    Krow snorted, took three of the yellow and orange fruits, each bigger than his fist, tossed a silver serpens upward.

    A pale hand caught the coinzily and the siren winked.

    "Would you like some rockshrooms with that? Fresh from Gojgan, south of theke, now that Batjarge stopped trading." The siren snapped fingers in irritation at thest part of the statement.

    Another quest prompt.

    "No thanks, just this is fine."

    He pressed one of the pears to his nose as he walked, putting the others into his inventory. The deep fruity fragrance was exactly as he remembered. It crunched loudly as he bit into it, the strong tart-stweetness immediately bursting over virtual tastebuds.

    He''d had cuji pears only a few times, they were rarely traded from the hignds. Three for one serpens was cheap.

    The real pears tasted stronger, Krow thought meditatively as he chewed.

    He went to the railing on the cliff lip, leaned on the balustrade. He was higher up than earlier, and the mountainous horizons no longer hid themselves behind the cliff.

    The Grandshield Forest spread below, hemmed into widening valley by canyon walls that were kilometres apart.

    On the opposite cliff of the canyon, to the north-east, many prettily rainbowed waterfalls sparkled through mist and flowed into rivers shining like silver ropes threaded through the valley.

    Something in Krow that was afraid of heights, echoes of ancient human ancestors, quailed at the distance between where he was standing and the ground far far below.

    In his years in the Hagon mountain area, he''d never visited an inner draculkar vige.

    The outer viges in lower altitudes were less harrowing.

    If their preferred geography was like this, didn''t that mean the draculkar liked living on the edge?

    Krowughed lightly.

    Gojo had given him the impression that the draculkar were a severe and dreary people.

    The ss bells that tinkled in the breeze of this high altitude, the stained-ss windows throwing colors at the cliff and the ground and the stones, the crystal spires and floating bridges, the mischievousughter that Verinel met him with, the passionate but awkward young de that was Derad, the strongly vored and scented foodstuffs ¨C which of these spoke of severe and dreary life?

    Krow closed his eyes, rxed into the cold breeze that touched his skin with soothing caresses.

    The noise of the barter-ce rest-stop he left behind was distant, with the winds on the edge washing away most the sound before his ears could be touched.

    He opened his eyes and peered around forndmarks.

    To the far left horizon, the Moonpirs rose, distantly hazy against the sky.

    Krow brightened at the familiar sight.

    Twenty or so gigantic pirs of pale limestone rising to the heavens, they could be seen from any vantage point west of the Guins River.

    He oriented himself using the six tallest of the pirs, as he''d been taught by the locals.

    He was south of the Guinsant Alliance territories; seeing the Forest already told him that. The Pirs added that he was further within the Hagon mountain range than he''d ever been before.

    From the angle of the Pirs, the swamps were likely due north from where he was.

    If so, the ce where he died wouldn''t be so far from here. Maybe within thirty kilometres even. Horizontally, of course.

    Vertically, Krow eyed the valley far below, was another matter.

    He breathed deeply, reminded himself of the reasons he chose this area to operate.

    One, he knew this area best.

    Two, it was full of monsters.

    Three, not very many warbands came here because the Sirens of the Guinsant Alliance had nopunctions about wiping armies out using poison and this was their homeground.

    That wasn''t to say there was no conflict. Raids were asmon in Alliance territory as others. Bandits and rebels were everywhere in Rends and that was more pronounced in Zushkenar even after the ceasefires and treaties.

    Four, it had reasonable infrastructure, at leastpared to certain areas of the game map that didn''t have developed trade institutions.

    Five, most yers who chose Siren, Vargvir, or Draculkar races, as well as the Humans whose starting viges were near didn''t stay long in the inner territories of the Guinsant Alliance, preferring to move to the coastal areas where there were better battle quests.

    It meant fewer yers to contend with.

    It meant more resources.

    He tapped the center of his sunburst mark and his game character summary was brought forward.

    *

    Name: s Krow

    Race: Draculkar

    Location: Gremut Vige

    HP: 30 (100%)

    MP: 77 (100%)

    Str: 5

    Dex: 5 (+2)

    Mnd: 7

    Vit: 3

    Magic Aptitude: 11

    Element: Shadow

    Battless: Sharpshooter [~Skills~]

    Crafterss: Enchanter

    Subss: Scout

    Butcher

    Tinkerer ::|Expand|::

    Equipped Main Weapon: Starfall Revolver

    Equipped Shoulders: Darkfall Hooded Cape

    *

    Krow studied the data while crunching through the cuji pear.

    Only his battless was active.

    Active craft and subsses mostly influenced side-quests, at this time. Storyline quests at the moment were more geared toward battle.

    Krow only had a fetch quest because he ignored most of the other prompts and he was a new yer ¨C beginner quests were mostly geared toward upping Rep and Exp, plus teaching yers how to find a questgiver in the crowds.

    Technically, any NPC could give a quest.

    A quest relevant to the skills the yer wanted to level? That needed a little digging.

    Krow activated all the rest of his sses.

    The Enchanter''s Grimoire appeared before him. He could equip it technically. But he wouldn''t be using it for a while yet. He ced it and the apanying bookbelt in the Inventory.

    Nothing else appeared.

    Unfortunately, he had to buy the gear for his subsses.

    The Inventory held a carved revolver chest. He opened it to see thirty rounds of non-enchanted ammunition, ten rounds of stunbullets, ten rounds of meburst bullets, a cleaning kit, and two extra cylinders.

    Not bad for a starting set, he supposed, looking at it dubiously.

    He took out the revolver. Despite the decoration, it was a low-level weapon, would only survive until Lvl 15 at most. Advice urged most yers to change their starting weapons at Lvl 12 or earlier.

    Semi-enchanted, the revolver had no hammer ¨C the cylinder would rotate automatically until empty in battle and apparently the propent was magic. It wasn''t self-loading however, which was a shame.

    He checked the chamber.

    It was a five-round chamber, and fully loaded.

    The bullets were all non-enchanted.

    Did he need to use the mage-bullets?

    Probably not.

    But better prepared than sorry.

    He tossed thest of the peach into his mouth, wiped his hands on the grass, then exchanged the three of the bullets with stun-rounds and two with meburst.

    Without the hammer, there was no way to have a misfiring incident the way he''d been warned so many times so Krow just holstered the gun with a full loadout.

    The extra cylinders, he loaded with ordinary bullets and dropped into his pockets ¨C they appeared in two of the seven docked inventory slots. He could see them under the Status bars at the corner of his eye.

    Considering the shortcuts in the mage-revolver design, it looked like he could just swap out an empty cylinder with a loaded one in battle without breaking anything.

    Haah, magic was sure convenient.

    Finishing, he cleaned up and stowed the chest in the Inventory.

    It was really too bad the Inventory would disappear after the Quake, it was so useful.

    *

    Ringbell flowers had a tubr copper-colored coro, and within the petals was a collection of pink stamens fused into a singr circr yellow anther.

    Krow managed to harvest two that were growing on the vine-walkways by sawing at their stems with a sharp rock.

    Regret.

    He''d forgotten to buy a knife in the vige.

    Fortunately, breakingmon rock crystal ¨C he rmended doing so by hurling it at a hardier rock below and far enough that the shattered shards weren''t a maiming hazard ¨C yielded a number of sharp slivers.

    He had to chip the sharp points off one end and wrap the blunted part with vines to create a safe enough handle, and he had several knives that worked well enough.

    Fortunately, the Butcher subss allowed him to wield a knife in his dominant hand. If he didn''t have Butcher, then the knife would only be allowed as an off-hand weapon.

    The flower stems were tough enough that the thought of harvesting 20 of the things using his left hand gave him phantom pains.

    "If you''re harvesting ringbells, there''s more on the other side of the gardens."

    The speaker passed carrying arge bouquet, absently rearranging them as she walked.

    Krow looked up from contemting the ringbell flower he was holding in his hand, stared at the speaker suspiciously, who hadn''t waited for an answer and had already left him behind.

    The flowers would''ve obscured most of her face even if he saw her from the front, but her coffee-colored hair was arranged in long waist-length tails held together by silver clips.

    Human, a ive on her back, not wearing starting garments.

    A glimmer caught his eye.

    An amethyst-crystal earring dangled from her ear.

    A crym, the only way yers couldmunicate betweenrge distances. This early in the wars, it was only avable to high-status NPCs and yers with backing.

    Probably a yer.

    Krow turned away, already forgetting the interaction, to look at the tangle of color-carrying vines that separated him and ''the other side of the gardens''.

    The Vine Ladder Gardens were worth the recognition.

    Krow thought they were only vine walkways, but no.

    They wereyers of vine-braided walkways, connected to each other with woven vinedders. Some enterprising soul had sown flower seeds on the vines sessfully, very sessfully.

    The Gardens were blooming very well.

    In autumn.

    A sweet scent hung around the air, not cloying or overly redolent but delicately rich and refreshing.

    On some vines, roots of flowering nts poked out of the vines upon which they were nted. How did the roots not weaken the vines and send the whole thing crashing down?

    Krow had no idea and was leery of testing the walkways by jumping up and down.

    He jogged through a shaded vine corridor, then had to climb a vinedder to the next walkway that would take him closer to the other side of the massive crack in the mountainside that the Gardens spanned.

    A sudden chittering sound stopped him. He looked up.

    There was this golden rodent, with long waving antennae and butterfly-like wings folded on its back. It was gnawing on the flower-growing vines that held hisdder to the walkway.

    Of course it was.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 2]

    The abilities of the Scout subss triggered and added:

    [Poison Dust][Physical Attacks]

    [Eats nectar and rootcrops]

    Of course it does.

    Krow lunged upward.

 Chapter 16 - The Vine Garden Quest (2)

    The monster startled, wings ring, showing hypnotizing patterns. A puff of golden dust spread around it.

    Krow used the leverage of a foot, turned his lunge into a sideways scrabble.

    His grip slipped on the vines.

    For one terrifying moment, he hung over nearly a hundred meters of air.

    Gravity asserted itself, he started to fall. His adrenaline shot up, instincts rmed.

    He iled, grabbling at the trailing braided balustrade of a walkway, his foot tangling in a mass of smaller vine.

    He pulled himself up, sideways, and away from the monster.

    The poison cloud settled slowly on the vines, dusting the surroundings in gold. Krow was grateful the wind blew away from him.

    No dust settled near.

    He arranged himself morefortably, rested his forehead on a cool green vine, tried to calm down the almost painful adrenaline-med pounding of blood in his veins.

    "You''re a godsted Sharpshooter!" he growled at himself, angry that he''d attacked head-on like a Swordbearer.

    A chittering made him narrow his eyes, tense again.

    The monster was already scurrying away, toward the cliff.

    Insultingly, it sniffed at him once as it passed him by, with a series of chk-chk-chk-ha noises that sounded likeughter.

    Krow calmly unholstered his gun, aimed, and shot a stun-round at its retreating behind.

    The mothmarmot dropped, unmoving.

    Nice.

    Hm. It looked like the cartridges were consumed by the revolver. Maybe it was the fuel?

    Tsk.

    Magic bullcrap convenience.

    Not even in Zushkenar did he understand it, despite the usefulness.

    Well, he had time in this life to learn it.

    He climbed over the balustrade carefully, couldn''t help ncing down and pausing.

    Haaaah¡­

    You''d think seeing the Grandshield Forest looking like a mat of green pondscum from the ridiculously immense height would lessen the impact of smaller drops, but no. Apparently, it only enhanced the experience.

    He had to grip the vines tightly for a moment to deal with weakened knees, but then strode toward the mothmarmot. He''d recognized that golden poison dust.

    It was used as poison, yes. But also was sold in Zushkenar to apothecaries to make anesthetics. Also emetics and de-worming potions, among others, but the anesthetics were the ones that sold at high prices.

    In Rends, he didn''t know what it was good for.

    Probably the same things, but did anyone have the recipes now?

    Krow needed to check an auctionhouse to see if what sold well in Zushkenar was profitable in Rends. The forums said Rends didn''t have much vendor trash, that every item drop was useful.

    But materials degraded.

    He didn''t want to hoard monster materials just to watch them rot because no one knew how to use them.

    He kneeled beside the mothmarmot.

    It was nearly as long from pink scaly nose to stubby tail as his whole arm.

    It couldn''t fly, he mused as he spread therge ky wings carefully. The wings wouldn''t support the weight.

    Probably. He''d seen weirder things flying about.

    The stun-round was almost out. Krow nced at the timer hovering over the monster.

    He took out his makeshift rock-crystal knife and sliced it through the mothmarmot''s throat.

    [-32] [Fatal blow!]

    Krow turned off those notifications, keeping only the red-colored enemy HP bar visible.

    The monster dissolved into blue sparkling lights that dispersed like a mist before him, leaving items and coin. He touched the items.

    [You''ve gained two (2) pouches of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    That was all very well.

    But Krow''s mind still stuck on the utter disconnect between what he knew and a monster carcass dissolving into blue glowing motes.

    Ah, he forgot.

    There was a visual realism percentage that was automatically set to 60%.

    He activated the interface, frown disappearing. Where was it again?

    "Realism percentage," he questioned the interface.

    The Map page erged and came to the forefront. Most of the map regions had a small lock that said he hadn''t gained the prerequisites to travel them yet.

    His eyes dropped lower.

    Sure enough, there was a slider under the map that indicated the amount of realistic visuals a yer would see. It was locked to 60% in those under age 18, to prevent the gore and blood from traumatizing yers.

    Actually, he was fairly certain it couldn''t drop below 50%.

    Checking the requirements of the Butcher subss, Krow upped his realism to 80%, which was enough to show blood and viscera.

    There were more than a few monsters that needed to be butchered in a particr way using feel, scent, and certain anatomicalndmarks. His Butcher level was Third Apprentice right now, but he had the memory-skills of at least a Second Wright.

    Wouldn''t want to let those skills deteriorate because of the game system.

    He slid the bar to 95% realistic.

    He might want to practice in Zushkenar conditions, but that remaining 5% dealt with most of the clean-up.

    No having tounder blood out of clothing, no having to choke on increasingly strange smells of decay or shoveling feces and unusable offal while butchering some monsterrge enough to swallow a person, no having to wash the butchered items before storing them.

    Krow closed the interface with a smile.

    He hadn''t taken two steps when the world turned red and a notification shed.

    [Warning! Processing power unable topensate. Reset to default settings? Y/N]

    Krow groaned. "Weeping graves."

    He''d forgotten that neuro-virtual headsets were also locked to 60% realism if without the support of the bio-cradle processors.

    "Reset, yes," he grumped sourly.

    The world returned to its overwhelmingly ordinary pleasantness, the red faded away.

    He snorted, walked away.

    Stopped to saw a copper ringbell flower from where it sat between several pale flower clusters. He tossed it into his inventory and moved on.

    He''d sooner stepped on the rock of the cliff than a now familiar chitter sounded on his right.

    The revolver was in his hand immediately, and tracking the sound.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 3]

    Another stun, another throat-slicing, another mothmarmot burst into blue glow-motes.

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Golden Silky Fur!]

    Krow lifted his brows.

    It looked like the Butcher subss worked even at 60% realism. Why did the subss page rmend 80% then?

    Unless at 60% it was a random ¨C

    Chk-chk-kreeeeeee!

    Krow whirled, revolver raised.

    The sound of pebbles sliding from above had him turning again.

    Chk-kreeeee! Chk-Chk-skreeeee!

    Oh.

    Of course the things ran in packs.

    Of course they did.

    Krow brieflymented not being in the foothills, where he knew most of the monsters. Though since it was this early in the game, a lot of the native wildlife in the foothills hadn''t been hunted to near extinction.

    He grabbed the cylinder of non-enchanted bullets, reced the one equipped on his revolver. Stepped back onto the vine walkway, then started to climb.

    The monsters were on the cliff-face, the wind was blowing at his back, so unless they jumped toward him, he''d be safe from the dust and the ws and the teeth.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 2]

    He aimed. The revolver barked once and the mothmarmot squealed.

    It didn''t die.

    Krow cursed as he peered to see that only a third of the monsters HP had been sheared off by the ordinary bullet.

    He now knew he should stock up on mage-bullets as soon as possible. Seriously useful, those stun-rounds.

    Several more monsters appeared.

    He emptied the revolver, changed cylinders, emptied that, then boosted himself up on a vine that didn''t support a walkway.

    Chk-chreeeee!

    Tsk.

    Krow opened the revolver chest on hisp and quickly fed bullets into the emptied cylinders. He emptied the original one, then filled the chambers with meburst rounds. The way the golden poison dust was covering the cliff-face, if the wind changed¡­.

    He wasn''t going to waste a free revival on his very first quest.

    Finished, he jumped onto a walkway and climbed higher, almost to the level of the lip of the crack.

    Chk! Chk-chk-kreee!

    They gathered on a ledge opposite him, golden motes swirling around them. Krow eyed them, then equipped the meburst bullets and carefully aimed.

    Beside the mass of outraged mothmarmot bodies, there was a slightly translucent hunk of stone.

    The meburst bullet left then barrel differently from the others, leaving a faint red trail behind. It hit the stone, exploded into a dozen red-tinged shards.

    Krow lunged behind a mass of vines, curling away with the cape protecting him. Rock crystal shards embedded themselves in the vines around him, a few hitting the cape through the holes in the vine web.

    None prated the cape, momentum lessened.

    He tugged his hood lower and made himself smaller.

    There was a panicked chittering from the mothmarmot pack.

    Krow turned to peer at the results.

    The mothmarmots on that particr ledge were decimated, the other groups screeching in fright and anger.

    He stuck the revolver barrel through the vines, and looked for a likely spot to aim. There weren''t really that many rock crystals near the mothmarmot groups.

    He sent a second meburst bullet, covered as it exploded.

    Jumping up, he moved for better vantage.

    Two more meburst bullets and the mothmarmots learned to avoid the cliff.

    They jumped onto the Vine Garden and scurried toward him, rage in their eyes.

    "Son of a toothsucker!" The vines now under his feet weren''t conducive to quick running; they depressed with each step, like walking on a less bouncy trampoline.

    His opponents'' ws and light bodies made them step surer on the swaying battleground.

    Krow snapped a cylinder of non-enchanted bullets into the revolver to rece the explosive ones, started shooting immediately.

    The first monster died, the second leaped at Krow and got a face-full of cape while the third got a face full of bullets.

    Krow dropped the revolver, took a knife and mmed it into the nape of the mothmarmot attempting to chew through his cape-covered arm and slowly bleeding his HP.

    It burst into blue glow-motes and items.

    Whoa, good thing they couldn''t keep continuously puffing out that gold-colored poison dust.

    [You have achieved Lvl 2!]

    Krow ignored the items and the notifications. Only smiled briefly as his health shot up to 100%.

    He dropped down to the walkway, retrieved his revolver, and leaped to a massive lone vine, wobbling before regaining his bnce.

    The mothmarmots headed in his direction shrieked in anger.

    [You have gained one (1) point of Dexterity from training!]

    Krow shut off those notifications with a snarl, and started reloading.

    There were maybe ten left, with Lvl 2 to Lvl 4.

    "Where are all the Lvl 1 monsters," heined under his breath. "I just got here today, you know!"

    A mothmarmot jumped straight to him, trailing gold dust, ws and teeth bared. Krow put three bullets into it mid-air, then resumed reloading.

    "You know you should ease people into a world like this, right, game makers?" he continued. "How can people stay if you toss them down the abyss immediately?"

    He nced down and shuddered.

    Chk-chk-keeee! Kreee-keeee!

    There were two mothmarmots crawling down the vine. Five bullets, and the items drops were falling into the shadows of the crack under them, lost forever.

    "Just a suggestion, maybe make automatic pick-up a default on Lvl 1?" Krow sighed, forlorn. "Why does it activate only at Lvl 5? How is that logical, huh?"

    He twisted, firing another five bullets. The second mothmarmot didn''t die, and the third shrieked as a bullet grazed it.

    Krow equipped a new cylinder into the gun. He was running out of bullets.

    He stowed the chest, got up from where he was straddling the vine, and ran.

    Chk-chk-chk-keeee!

    "Yes, follow me, you little ratbugs!"

    He jumped from vine to walkway to another walkway, leading to the cliffs.

    There was no way he was losing anymore drops.

    Once on solid ground, Krow started up the rocky path, staying far away from the patches of golden dust.

    He boosted himself up a ledge after checking that there were no monsters above that could ambush him, and started picking off the enraged mothmarmots that were hard pressed on his trail.

    "What kind of pack animal doesn''t retreat when most of them are killed?" Krow protested, as he aimed more carefully than earlier, so as to not waste bullets. "Aren''t your low-level monsters supposed to all be cute, Rends? Godforsaken programmers! You think this is cute?"

    Each non-enchanted bullet he fired barely took ten percent off the enemy''s life.

    Thest four mothmarmots had entered a towering fury.

    Their golden coats tinged with red, their eyes bloodshot and raging, they advanced imcably toward Krow. Their wings and antennae were open and rigid, vibrating ominously as they slowly turned transparent. There was a constant cloud of gold dust around them.

    No way Krow was getting close to that.

    He exchanged the non-enchanted bullets for hisst cylinder of meburst rounds.

    Low-level stun-rounds wouldn''t do anything to a monster in rage, even if the monster was also at low levels.

    He aimed and waited.

    They were soon going to pass a hunk of ¨C there!

    The rock crystal exploded, taking out the lead monster and the one closest behind it. Unfortunately, their bodies protected the others, the HP of thest two diminishing negligibly.

    Two mebursts didn''t kill the third, but it dropped to the ground, unable to move. Krow turned the revolver and thest two bullets on thest monster.

    It slowed, but didn''t stop.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 4 (Enraged)]

    Krow thought he had time to reload a cylinder, but the monster lunged. Krow fumbled, then kicked the mothmarmot away, jumping off the ledge and retreating further up the path to avoid the poison dust.

    He snapped the cylinder into ce. It took three non-enchanted bullets before the mothmarmot dissolved into sparkles.

    Krow aimed thest bullet in the gun at the still breathing monster further down. The bullet hit it in the head, and it let out a single screech before it too, became blue glow-motes and items.

    With a sigh, he dropped against the cliff-face, panting.

    His limbs were heavy and slow.

    A nce at his HP bar and he grimaced.

    The game creators had made every detail of Rends to be as close to realistic as possible, which meant his low VIT had his HP currently being leeched by an Majorly Exhausted debuff.

    It looked like he hadn''t avoided all the poison because there was also a Minor Poison debuff that was leeching even more HP.

    He took out a cuji pear, and started eating.

    Food generally alleviated Exhaustion by a percentage, depending on quality andpatibility.

    When he could move easier again, he sighed in relief.

    It was possible, in Rends, to die of Exhaustion.

    He opened his profile and noted that he had five stat points unused. He ced four in VIT and one in MND.

    He had noticed ¨C btedly, a part of his mind grumbled disapprovingly ¨C that the mage-bullets had been reducing his MP bar.

    HP: (78%)

    MP: (93%)

    Debuffs: Minor Poison, Minor Exhaustion

    *

    Name: s Krow (Exhaustion, Minor Poison)

    Level: 2 (74%)

    Race: Draculkar

    Location: Vine Ladder Gardens

    HP: 79%

    MP: 93%

    Str: 8

    Dex: 9 (+2)

    Mnd: 8

    Vit: 7

    Element: Shadow

    Magic Aptitude: 11

    Battless: Sharpshooter [~Skills~]

    Crafterss: Enchanter [~Skills~]

    Subss: Scout [~Skills~]

    Butcher [~Skills~]

    Tinkerer ::|Expand|::

    Equipped Main Weapon: Starfall Revolver

    Equipped Shoulders: Darkfall Hooded Cape

    *

    Krow couldn''t fully remove the now regr Exhaustion and the Minor Poison debuffs, but at least they won''t kill him before he finished the quest. Upping his VIT had improved his HP regeneration a little.

    He leaned back against the mountain, letting the cool breeze rx him, eating pears.

    Collecting the item drops could wait forter.

    He was going to enjoy the view first.

 Chapter 17 - The Vine Garden Quest (3)

    [You''ve gained Flutterpoison Crystal Wings from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    Krow paused, fingers drumming on a leg, listening.

    Nothing sounded.

    Assured, he stood and moved to the next collection of item drops.

    [You''ve gained two (2) pouches of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Golden Silky Fur!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    It was near one of the meburst-shattered rock-crystals, so there were a few more drops.

    The Golden Silky Fur was in good condition, which was lucky. The other rock-shatter sites had given him Tattered Golden Silky Fur ¨C using bombs was not conducive to good hunting.

    Gathering all the items he could, Krow stilled again to listen before moving. His eyes checked every crevice and every dark shadow.

    He was almost done with gathering item drops from the mothmarmot monsters.

    As for the ringbell flowers, he was conflicted.

    His quest progress was just 7/20.

    And he didn''t have any way to protect himself other than the crude stone knives.

    When checking his supplies earlier, he found that he''d inadvertently used stun-rounds somewhere. His bullet count had been off.

    As it stood, he only had one meburst round and four stun-rounds remaining.

    He''d used all 30 non-enchanted bullets, 9 meburst bullets, 6 stun-rounds.

    All that, and nearly half the item drops fallen to the gorge below. Then there was the fact that some of the pack of mothmarmots still lived.

    He hoped the stunned ones were the ones that had fallen off the vines.

    It was likely, actually.

    But what if they didn''t die in that great fall and climbed back up?

    His HP was still ticking lower ever so slowly.

    Krow gave an exasperated sound as his thoughts spiraled. "I''m scaring myself, at this point."

    Be cautious, be unnoticed, be patient.

    Move swiftly, strike unwaveringly, run away when needed.

    Six things a forester in the foothills of the Hagon mountains must understand.

    Listing them calmed Krow.

    "This is a game," he muttered, a secondter. "You can buy yourself out of death."

    Krow flinched even as he said that.

    Aha.

    That¡­memory was, unsurprisingly, stronger under the skies dominated by Enilhadrad. He''d thought he''d moved on from it.

    Apparently not.

    He looked up, through the vines, to see the great gas giant, the sky-mother, the moon called Enilhadrad, imcably moving along her ancient heavenly path.

    "I''d rather not die at all," he huffed, bending down to touch the items strewn on the rocks.

    [You''ve gained three (3) pouches of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) pouches of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    He stood, sharp gaze studying the surroundings. Those looked like thest of the drops he could acquire. The rest were on crags he couldn''t ess without greater STR and DEX or were still covered in poison dust.

    He took a nce at his Inventory, and his countenance lightened a bit.

    Not bad.

    Eighteen items all told, excluding coin. Most of it was Flutterpoison Dust, but he already knew that was useful. Compared to what he gained on his first quest as a Swordsbearer¡­.hah!

    As for the coins, he''d made over twice the starting cash already.

    After the revolt in Zushkenar, with wright skills he had needed at least a week of hard work to make thirty silver serpens ¨C that was enough for a month''s food and rent in a decent inn.

    But there were thirty-four serpens now in his inventory, with over twenty made before the morning was over.

    Krow shook his head.

    Inparison, it was too easy to make money in Rends.

    Of course, thirty serpens still wasn''t nearly enough to buy a good weapon in the game, and when converted to Earth cash was barely enough to buy a candybar.

    "Profligate revel-seeking wastrels," he dered with half-hearted mocking.

    Because in any world, Earth, Rends, or Zushkenar, the more money you had the more you spent. The more you knew how to spend money, the more you think you needed.

    Krow, at the moment, had nearly 400,000 golden drax in his game ount.

    And he knew it wasn''t enough.

    Profligate wastrel, indeed.

    He stretched, rxing.

    A month of continuous exercise allowed him to get used to feeling ache in his muscles.

    The artificial sensation in this virtual world was truly incredible, but pain and difort at 60% realism were mere suggestions of the real thing.

    Still, even at 100% in the game, the pain of dying by being chewed by a dragon would probably be less debilitating than the fear of the experience.

    Krow looked down at the knife he held in his dominant hand.

    The crude rock knife would be good for some time yet; its durability was low but not enough to be unusable. Krow had enough knapped and raw shards in his inventory to rece it several times over.

    Just thirteen flowers more.

    He could do that in less than an hour.

    Instead of heading across the Vine Ladder Gardens to the vige, he retread the rocky path upward, to the lip of the gorge.

    In the upper reaches of the Gardens, there were fewer walkways and more flowers.

    Krow rxed in the pleasantly scented air as he searched for the elusive ringbell flowers. But he didn''tpletely let down his vignce.

    He was certain he hadn''t finished the hidden quest.

    The forums said that the reward forpleting the hidden quest was Reputation Points.

    Where were his points?

    He hadn''t finished the hidden quest the first time around either. It was only given once, and the yer had no second chance to take it again if they failed.

    Some starting viges had more than one hidden quest. Rumors said all starting viges did.

    The point was, there was a ton of monsters around starting viges.

    A yer could gain simr Rep by killing enough of those, probably.

    But Krow was already on this quest.

    If he couldn''t finish it, how different was the him from Before to the him today?

    And that thought, he couldn''t stand it.

    So he tried to get into the rxed readiness that he''d seen career hunters in Zushkenar wear like a cloak. In this new body, and with low stats, it wasn''t that effective.

    Finally, he peered over the top of the gorge. Craggy rock formations, a few grassy patches, some trees that were more shrub than the stately timbers in the foothills.

    His lips curved up.

    Thest of the ringbells he needed entwined with the branches of the trees he could see.

    A final wary nce around, he scrambled up, pulling himself upright on the edge of the gorge.

    Looking down at the massive green web of the Gardens, Krow marveled.

    He hadn''t seen it in its entirety,yers andyers suspended between two walls of the gorge, going on and on even as the yawing crack in the mountain turned sharply.

    The approach from Gremut had necessitateding from a lower walkway ¨C it was only now that he grasped the massive scope of the web of walkways and vinedders.

    There was likely a whole shadowed vale under the Gardens.

    He recalled the faint impression of boulders he could see from the long imcable drop.

    Maybe they were spiders, vine spiders, who wove together the Gardens, then went to sleep to incubate theirrge boulder-like eggs ¨C each boulder containing thousands of possible spider-young. The Gardens were meant to entice prey to the sweet-smelling flowers for when the eggs hatched.

    Krowughed at his suppositions.

    He''d heard too many stories around a campfire. Now, looking at ces like this, his brain went to possible legends.

    Vine spiders? Impossible.

    In the first ce, the draculkar had nted the Gardens.

    But there were creatures that thrived in shadow, so it was unlikely that the game-makers ced an empty valley under such a beautiful ce.

    Krow wasn''t curious enough to investigate, lest something jump out and try to eat his face.

    With his low levels, he''d die without a face.

    Right now, he was more concerned with flowers than possible shadowy lurkers.

    It was easier to harvest the ringbell flowers in the trees than the Gardens or the rocky mountainside. He could hack the stone knife against the rigid branches ¨C something he didn''t dare do in the vine-garden, and doing it against stone would break the knife.

    He started working and only paused to listen to odd noises warily, until the notification sounded and a frame appeared.

    [You have acquired 20/20 Ringbell Flowers! Find Velinel in Gremut Vige to turn in the Quest.]

    He grinned as the flower dropped into his hand, thest fall of the knife parting it from its stem.

    First quest!

    He stowed thest flower with a flourish, and prepared to make his way down the gorge walls.

    A nce at his status told him he was still bleeding HP.

    HP: (73%)

    MP: (94%)

    Debuffs: Minor Poison, Minor Exhaustion

    All that remained of his bullets were already loaded.

    Five bullets more and his weapon would have all the effective battle-worthiness of a rock.

    "Oh, for the times when all you needed was a sharpening stone," he muttered.

    He shook out his hands.

    No time to regret.

    He up-ended a stone so its tter side would face up, and took out thest two stone shards. He pulled some vines from the trees and stripped them of leaves.

    A minute''s search, and Krow hefted a likely rock in his hand. He only needed to chip and grind away the sharp edges on the shards to make a tang, so the stone didn''t have to berge or durable. It just needed to fitfortably in his hand.

    He shrugged, and returned to the make-shift stone table.

    He''d done this before, of course.

    The weapons and tools that Findrakon gave its workers were always poor quality.

    An older local, a dwarvir, taught him-as-Scare how to do it by eyes and touch as he was apparently stone-deaf ¨C which to the dwarvir meant he didn''t have a natural feel for stone-working, he couldn''t ''hear'' what it wanted to be.

    His draculkar fingers were longer than before, not as sensitive to changes in texture as human touch ¨C but maybe that was the VR system.

    It made things more difficult.

    But this, doing things by hand, making things ¨C it was calming.

    He hadn''t realized he''d be so rattled by being in Rends, focusing only on the exhration of returning to a familiar ce.

    Zushkenar was, at this point, more ''home'' than Earth. Earth was the hometown that had been ripped away, thend of his blood and heart, and he was so very very grateful to see it again.

    But Zushkenar was where he learned who he was, where his soul was forged.

    This virtual reality Rends, this game¡­

    It was confusing.

    Sometimes too simr, sometimes too different.

    The repetitive concentrated undertaking of chipping away at stone, trying not to crack the crystal, smoothing away too-rough edges, soothed in a way that Krow hadn''t expected.

    It gave him time to think.

    In the end, he still added two more knives to his weapon loadout.

    Going down the gorge was easier, the path delineated by disturbed nts, scored stone, oozing vines where mothmarmots ws or rock shards had scratched and torn.

    He was halfway across the Gardens when he heard it.

    Chk-skreee! Chk-skreee!

    He stopped in his tracks, leaned over the vine balustrade, eyes searching for the origin of the sound.

    There!

    On adder one level down, a sh of gold too quick for him to Scout.

    Krow unholstered his gun and ran toward thedder the mothmarmot was climbing.

    He had the advantage of height, before the monster could use its poison dust.

    This wasn''t a fight he could avoid.

    Not if he wanted to win the hidden quest.

    He leveled his revolver on the golden fur and dusty wings, still climbing, cylinder cycled to a stunround.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 1]

    "Oh, now you appear?!"

    Great jumping clowns, why?

    The revolver lowered.

    Krow couldn''t help it.

    A level one ratbug who only appeared at the end of a fight after everyone else died, just didn''t deserve the flippingst of his precious mage-bullets.

    He looked around, holstering the revolver.

    The mothmarmot nosed over the top of thedder.

    Krow sliced a seedball from one of the orchid-looking nts and hurled it at the head of the mothmarmot.

    It hit right between the eyes.

    Skr-cheee!

    The monster puffed a ball of gold dust and fell antennae-over-w backwards.

    Sess.

    A small grin formed on Krow''s face as he leaned down over a vine to see golden fur bristled in outrage, and a racket of furious chittering.

    He threw another seedball. It thunked on the mothmarmot''s nose, but no puff of golden dust appeared.

    Cheee! Chk-skreee!

    The mothmarmot charged thedder.

    Krow backed up and waited, knife in hand, flipped the charging monster up with a toe, and stabbed it in the throat.

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    No coins?

    Hmph.

    Chk-keeee! came the call from nearer his destination.

    Krow frowned, then reached toward another nt to take itsrge seedpods.

    The seedpod suddenly burst out with tiny spikes.

    He withdrew his hand quickly, stared speechless at the bristling mass of needles he''d been about to grab, a chill at the narrow escape crawling up and down his spine.

    The needles slowly retracted into the pod, having impaled nothing.

    "¡­it''s usually a good thing when random animals pluck the seeds of nts, you know, to spread your offspring to other ces," he said earnestly. "It lessenspetition within a single geographical area and increases species survival."

    The nt didn''t acknowledge, so Krow only made note of its gently spotted appearance so he''d remember it was shy and needed great personal space.

    He turned to a nt that looked very different, then reached out with the knife and tapped the seedballs cautiously. It didn''t move.

    Krow stared at the seedball. It still didn''t do anything.

    He dropped his face into a hand. "What am I doing? Fight imminent, idiot."

    He started gathering projectiles: stones he found on the vine-plots, non-aggressive seedballs, root vegetables.

    "Buy gloves, stat," he muttered, the third time he found himself looking suspiciously at a nt with promisinglyrge and firm pods.

    The sound of chittering drawing close, Krow stuffed all he could into his pockets.

    A golden figure scuttled out onto the walkway, fangs bared and wings red. Krow hurled a seedbulb at it.

    Puff! was the expected result.

    Then several others nosed around the first mothmarmot, heads peering out through the dustcloud.

    Krow spent one moment envying them the immunity.

    Chk-kreeee!

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 1]

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 1]

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 1]

    "You''re just¡­reallying out of the woodwork now, aren''t you?"

    He smiled widely at the advancing monsters, suddenly more confident. He started yfully tossing some kind of atom-shaped potato in one hand.

    "Do the souls of your brothers cry out in vengeance?" He broke off a protruding bulbous growth from the atom-potato and started hurling pieces of the rootcrop at the advancing mothmarmots. "Come and get me!"

    Puffs of poison dust thickened the air.

    Krow stepped backward down the long walkway, measuring his steps.

    Once the dust was no longer a concern, he waited and with efficient movements, met the attacks with a kick or a swipe of the cape.

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    He waved away the notifications, eyes alert.

    Cheee-skreee!

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 1]

    "What in the world were you all doing before now?" Krow flung a stone while retreating. "Spa day? Scheduled world-domination meeting? Drinking at the level-one bar toin about how you''ve not leveled up yet, unlike that hussy sister of your neighbour''s cousin''s lover''s wife?"

    [You''ve gained one (1) pouch of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    Krow walked steadily toward Gremut, his eye on the Minor Exhaustion debuff.

    If it ticked up to Major Exhaustion again, he wouldn''t be able to fight back. The cuji pears he ate had lowered it to Minor, but he didn''t have any more food.

    He nced at the potato-looking thing in his hand.

    Nope.

    He wasn''t that hungry.

    As long as he didn''t have to perform more stunt gymnastics to get through the quest, he''d be fine.

    He slid down adder.

    A sh of gold.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 3]

    "Finally." He drew the revolver and dropped the mothmarmot with a well-aimed stun-round. He walked toward it. "Are you the ringleader nning a revolt using a hundred level-one pawns?"

    [You''ve gained two (2) pouches of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    The rock-crystal knife broke as the monster dissolved into glowing blue motes. Krow quickly equipped another.

    Skreee! Chk-Chk-keeee!

    Three more level ones.

    He was so close to the cliff now, he could toss a seedball gently and hit it.

    He holstered his gun and started retreating. The same strategy of making them follow past the danger of the dust poison, then going for the throat.

    [You have killed 50 Mothmarmots and gained 250 Experience Points!]

    [You have finished the Hidden Quest: Dusty Gold!]

    [You have gained 25 Reputation Points in Gremut Vige!]

    [You have gained (1) level to achieve Lvl 3!]

    "Atst."

    Krow huffed in relief, shoulders slumping, leaning against a wall of woven vine.

    The debuffs were removed by the level-up and his HP and MP bars replenished to 100%.

    Heughed, happy.

    It had taken three days of grinding to get to Lvl 3 thest time.

    He took a few minutes to rest, took the item drops, and stepped on thest walkway before solid ground.

    Kreeeaar! Schkreeoaar!

    What?

    The vine walkway swayed as foot stepped on.

    Krow stared silently for a long moment, turned his head to study the knife still in his hand, then looked forward again, dubious.

    "Didn''t you read the weight limit sign on this vine?"

    Behind three level one mothmarmots and a single level-two, lumbered a rhino masquerading as a cute ratbug.

    Above the monster, an info-frame hung that swallowed all the relief Krow had at finishing the hidden quest.

    [Armored Mothmarmot Lvl 9]

 Chapter 18 - The Vine Garden Quest (4 Of 4)

    "Ah. It''s over."

    Lvl 9?

    Krow didn''t even draw his gun, knowing it was useless.

    He''d just gained Lvl 3, and won''t get a battless skill for another seven levels. He had four bullets and two crude knives.

    He couldn''t even taunt the monster with the Tattered Golden Silky Fur of its dead pack members because he wouldn''t be able to survive the charge.

    Krow paused at that thought.

    Too cruel, he admonished himself. The armored beast and its pack hadn''t done anything to him after all.

    It was Krow who had trespassed, in that regard.

    So he turned from the approaching beast and its much diminished entourage, jogged away.

    Kchreee! Chk-keee!

    Krow paused, as if to listen to the chittering. He brought up his profile. Twelve points of dexterity?

    And then he flung himself off the walkway.

    Thend silenced.

    It was only now, when Krow could only hear wind in his ears, that he realized the Gardens were full of sound ¨C insects uncountable, birds that chirped and fluttered their wings, the flowers themselves hummed with life.

    What part did the mothmarmots y in the Gardens, that the sounds of everything else didn''t stop when they appeared?

    Almost instinctive, a hand reached out to catch a trailing vine, and Krow''s body mmed into the wind as he swung.

    "Gyaaaaaahaah!"

    Thendscape rushed past dizzily.

    Something clicked in his brain, and Krow released the vine at a particr point in the arc. He iled his arms to keep upright, feeting up in front. He skidded onto the pathway, legs bending to take on most of the impact.

    Even then, his feet slipped against dust and gravel, knees mmed into the ground, palms almost bruised from road rash.

    There was a short stillness, as dust settled.

    Then Krow popped up with an exhratedugh.

    His status told him he had Negligible Wound(s). A small debuff, considering he''d never done that move before.

    But this was a game, and his body was data. He just needed to let the ''instincts'' take over.

    "Twelve points of Dexterity!" He gleefully cheered. Then he grinned widely at the Armored Mothmarmot on the walkway above, ignoring the angry eyes and confused chitter-roaring. "Twelve points of Dexterity, that''s what just happened!"

    Twelve points of Dexterity.

    Enough to activate the first skill of the Acrobat subss, Rope Trickster.

    Eli had watched tightrope stunts and rope-dancing on vid before. Even at Krow''s third apprentice level, swinging from a vine without slipping was simple, though it was about the most he could do.

    He brushed himself off and rapidly walked away. It would take at least three minutes for the remaining members of the monster pack to reach where he was.

    He had to get away from the armored mothmarmot''s aggro zone, and stay away for one hundred seconds before the pack could lose his ''scent'' and start calming down from the battle. To lose a monster concentrating aggro on a yer, that meant: run away very far very quickly.

    Skreeeaaaaooar! Ch-kreeaAAOR!

    Krow nced back.

    Wasn''t he out of the aggro zone already? In most monsters smaller than an eighteen-wheeler, it was a twelve-meter radius.

    The armored beast jumped.

    What.

    Krow could only stare, dumbfounded.

    Large butterfly wings unfurled from the back of the armored mothmarmot. Gouts of gold dust rained thickly from the spreading wings. A full seven to ten meters in span.

    Krow choked on nothing in shock, coughed, leaned against the rocky crag to thump his lungs into working again.

    Flying creatures had arger aggro zone, nearly five times that of ground-based monsters of simr size.

    "Norge!" Krow yelled the name as a curse, peeved to the extreme. "Did you program your monsters with twelve points of Impossible?!"

    Krow could run, but the path led straight for Gremut.

    Even thirty meters along the route he was on, the monster would scent the vige.

    The full sixty meters and the flutterpoison dust would affect the vigers whether they wanted to or not.

    He opened his Profile, distributed four points to VIT and one to DEX. With 12 points to VIT, he''d reached a threshold and his body became slightly tougher. Unfortunately, he didn''t gain any ss skills with it.

    Each point to MND made his bullets stronger by a percentage, but the increase was insignificant at his level.

    The he turned away from the vige path and started mbering up the steep slope.

    Above him were sheer cliffs, but climbing got him away from the veritable waterfall of poison dust from the impossibly gliding giant ratbug. There was more than one pathway on the slope, due to theyers of vine walkways.

    Most of them led to Gremut.

    Skreeeeaaaor!

    He nced behind him, drew his revolver. He shouldn''t have left the Gardens ¨C there, those wings wouldn''t have had room to spread. But here, in the space between the Gardens and the wall of the gorge, there was enough room to glide.

    The massive bugrat even had the nerve to look graceful while doing it.

    Krow cycled the cylinder to a stun-round, snapped two shots at the eye of the beast. Even if the stun wouldn''t work, the projectiles only dispersed upon touching the enemy and it would at least sting.

    Sure enough, the monster roared in pain, the fluttering wings jerked in their flowing dance. The monster drew its wings in, and its whole bulk swerved unsteadily from the expected trajectory.

    Weeping graves.

    Krow holstered the gun and pulled himself up the gorge wall faster.

    He''d barely flung himself behind a jutting crag when the armored mothmarmot crashed, the impact site exploding into a cloud of poison dust, rocks and actual dust.

    He huddled into the hooded cape as the poison dust spread, as the impact triggered a dozen small rockfalls

    "Buy a mask, too," he noted to himself, as the hood kept the pebbles off him, but not the tiny choking particles of soil.

    StrawmanScare had worn a mask for the majority of his life.

    It came in handy many times against airborne dangers, like paralyzing nt spores, the emanations from leatherworker solutions, steaming acid pools, or the various strong unpleasant smells he had to deal with over the years.

    That was a thought for another time though, as the monster below was already picking itself up.

    Chk-skreeeaar!

    There was a kink in one of its wings, but its reddening eyes were set mercilessly on Krow.

    Dread curdled in his gut.

    "You want it to follow you." He swallowed reflexively, as the n firmed in his mind. "Don''t mind the absolute murder-death-kill eyes it''s giving you. Those totally don''t matter at all."

    He waved, as if greeting a friend.

    The other chk-roared its protest at the notion and started digging ws into the side of the gorge, slowly climbing with vengeance dripping out of every crack its ws dug into stone.

    Krow started to move, not up, but sideways. He boosted himself onto an upper pathway and jogged along it, eyes sharp and roving, keeping track of thendscape.

    He nced back and grimaced. The armored monster was still emitting puffs of poison dust, wing up the slope toward him.

    It wasn''t raging yet, but from how those wings looked slightly less vivid and more milk-colored, it was getting there.

    He moved faster.

    He couldn''t use the meburst-rock-crystal explosion strategy here.

    For one, this side of the gorge seemed to have a dearth of rock crystals. Second, he didn''t know if the rock shards could prate the armor. He only had one meburst left, and he wasn''t about to leave his life to chance like that.

    Krow huffed ruefully to himself.

    He''d really been out of his mind, to take on a hidden quest without proper preparation.

    He''d failed it before. He should know how difficult it was.

    Too eager and too overconfident.

    He should have waited to do the hidden quest. He should have known he hadn''t had enough bullets. He should have at least stocked up on food.

    Should have, he snorted.

    ''Don''t think in should haves'', said Craftmaster Ortholian, ''think, what should be done better next time?''

    Krow had never been sure if the craftmaster had been a native or a former yer. He didn''t wear the globe icon that most of the transmigrators had adopted as their symbol. But he didn''t act as most of the Zushkenari natives did either.

    What should be done better next time?

    Many things, Krow admitted with much irritation at himself.

    He hadn''t even changed his starting gear slippers for boots!

    The durability was already fading on the slippers because he could feel the stones under his feet now. Not helped by how he''dnded feet-first on that vine swing.

    "Just get to Lvl 5," he told himself. "Lvl 5 and then immediately leave Gremut to somewhere with better gear."

    Starting viges didn''t sell good armor or weapons. They didn''t even have an auction house. Onlyrge towns and cities had those.

    Of course, he needed to get away from the Lvl 9 monster intent on ripping him to shreds first.

    He stopped as he saw a rock pir formation as he rounded a corner ¨C thrice taller than him, suitably heavy, and more importantly it tapered a bit toward the ground and looked very crumbly and unstable.

    It wasn''t precisely the n, but ns change¡­.

    "Perfect."

    At least, it had a decent chance of working.

    He ran to the pir, started climbing up the stone formation gingerly.

    The fact that it was crumbling gave a lot of handholds, which aided his ascent. The fact that it was unstable made it shudder with every move he exerted on it, which did not aid his nerves.

    The armored monster rounded the corner, bounding energetically even with a wing uselessly trailing the ground. Its gaze caught him.

    Chkreeeeeaaar!

    "Shkav," he cursed, and carefully moved faster. The rock formation trembled and swayed. He paused, eyes wide.

    Chkskreeeeeaoor!

    Krow set his teeth and ignored the swaying. Don''t look down, don''t look down, don''t look down!

    He gained the semi-t top of the pir with a sigh of relief, then grabbed a trailing vine hanging from a walkway above. He nced down, stepped to the side opposite the armored mothmarmot, inclined himself nearly horizontal, soles of his feet against the edge of the pir, with the vine supporting his weight.

    He bent his knees. Then with all the force he could, pushed off.

    The pir swayed in the opposite direction as he swung away. He reached the top of the swing arc, and bore down with all his weight as gravity pulled him back down.

    Using the momentum of the return swing, he mmed into the pir.

    He bounced off deliberately to save himself the pain, but the shock of the collision still resonated in his bones.

    The pir leaned over. But it wasn''t enough to fall.

    The armored monster scrabbled at the slope, intent on getting to Krow and ignoring everything else.

    He adjusted and pushed off again, with greater force, cursing. Even if his debuff said Negligible Wound(s), the scratches on his knees and palms still stung. Even now, he felt his grip on the vine slipping.

    Chkreeeeaaaor!

    He mmed into the pir again. It tipped over. He huffed in relief. The pir bumped one edge against the slope as it wavered in its descent; he nearly slipped off. Tightening his grip on his makeshift rope, he braced.

    Chkreeeeaaaor! Chk-kreeeeeooor!

    The armored mothmarmot, just a single leap from where Krow was hanging, could not avoid the pir''s falling weight.

    Chkeeee! Chk-kr¡ª

    Krow braced his feet on the stone, letting the length of the vine run out between his loose grip as he descended with the pir.

    Pir, mothmarmot, and Krow crashed onto the path. His feet slid from under him. He turned it into a roll, dropped onto a path on the mountainside below.

    This time, Krow couldn''t avoid the flutterpoison dust mixed with stone shards and soil debris. He ducked beneath a ledge and covered his mouth and nose as best he could.

    Definitely need a mask.

    He could see the vine web of the Gardens tremble asrge rocks fell onto the vine walkways below them.

    ''That would surely endear you to Gremut,'' a part of him snarked critically, ''destroying a beloved site that had obviously been the work of generations.''

    Say goodbye to those Reputation Points, Krow.

    The rockslide tapered off, and he cautiously peered out of his hood.

    A series of cracking sounds, breaking stone, shot through the quiet, and more rocks tumbled down.

    Krow eeled further under the ledge. Some of the rocks fell against the ledge, protecting Krow from the rest of thendslide.

    Chk-kreeeaAAAOOOR!

    He stilled.

    It was still alive.

    And in a Rage.

    "Weeping graves," he breathed feelingly into the dust under him. He pushed against the rocks that half-trapped him under the ledge.

    Skreeeeaoor!

    Somethingrge thumped near where he was near-punching rocks out of his way. Shkav!

    He wriggled out frantically and sat up, revolver already in hand, already aiming.

    They looked at each other, so close that Krow could almost feel the monster''s breath.

    He cycled the revolver cylinder to thest meburst bullet, one of the two bullets he had left in the gun.

    The monster was bleeding badly, only a sliver remaining in its HP. But its wings were fully crystal, in a familiar Rage, and its HP was slowly replenishing.

    Krow himself had not wanted to think about the 43% he had left, indelible at the corner of his eye.

    A screeching roar and the monster was on him. Krow''s hand didn''t waver as he waited until he couldn''t miss. He triggered the meburst; the bullet flew true into a blood-red eye.

    The vulnerable area exploded.

    Krow ignored the roaring, forced himself up and equipped a stone knife, used all the force of a lunge to slide the de into the monster''s eye-socket and deep into its brain.

    There was a long, helpless moment where he thought he hadn''t seeded.

    Then therge mothmarmot sagged.

    The stone knife snapped, leaving him only holding the tang.

    [You''ve gained two (2) pouches of Flutterpoison Dust from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained one (1) set of Crystalwing Bones from a monster!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Golden Silky Fur!]

    [You''ve gained ten (10) serpens from a monster!]

    [You have finished a Hidden bonus objective: Vanquish an Armored Mothmarmot!]

    Krow stumbled back, breathing hard.

    The monster carcass dispersed into a mass of glowing sparks, lifting up to the skies.

    He watched until thest glowing mote was gone.

    Godforsaken hidden objectives. "It wasn''t hidden at all!"

    And bonus? Bonus meant ''optional'', right?!

    The monster confronted him, then pursued him when he walked away! It had basically forced them into confrontation! How was that ''hidden'' or ''bonus''?

    "Take your not-really-optional objectives and shove them, Norge!" he muttered.

    Sometimes, Krow felt that if any gods existed, they wereughing at him.

    He stretched slowly. His body felt heavy, indicating debuffs.

    The intricate web of the Gardens, at least, remained mostly untouched.

    Poisoned, Exhausted, and Wounded, he started walking to where he could get food and treatment.

    Chk-kreeee!

    "Are you joking, world?" Krow aimed the revolver, ring at the single monster blocking his way.

    [Mothmarmot Lvl 3]

    "I only have one bullet left in this gun. Do you want to try your luck?"

    Unsurprisingly at this point, it did.

    Less than ten minutester, he was ignoring the looks sent at his dusty and torn attire as he all but limped through the town.

    He squinted at an Apothecary sign on the shop.

    "Boy, did you tangle with a herd of wild stone-swine?" chuckled the proprietor as he entered and slumped against the counter.

    Krow grunted. There were stone-swine this high up? Tenacious little things. "Ten vials each of General Antidote, Low Revitalit, and Low Heal."

    "Look like you need it." The man started packing the vials into a chest. "General Antidote at ten serpens each, Low Revitalit at twenty, Low Heal at twenty-five. Five drax, fifty serpens total."

    Whoa. Cheap.

    Oh right, this was a starting vige. Prices were at least 30% cheaper when under Lvl 5.

    "Twenty-five hundred-item crates of each, in addition." He''d have liked to buy more, but Inventory slots were finite.

    The man''s brow lifted, but he only said, "You''ll have to return tomorrow for the crates. Five thousand and five hundred drax. Half the price now, half tomorrow."

    He closed the chest and thoughtfully left out one vial of each potion for Krow, who guzzled them all down without hesitation.

    "You don''t have Fool''s Antidote, High Revival or High Heal, do you?" Krow asked, cing pouches of coin on the counter.

    "I look like I could sell that amount here?" The manughed, incredulous. "You could order a simr amount from the city if you want to pay the delivery prices. It would take three days."

    "No thanks." Krow figured it was something like that. All the top-quality items were designed to be yer-crafted, so the system couldn''t just make them appear like it did the general NPC-shop items. And it couldn''t discount the prices, either. Noted.

    He should shop around to see what NPC shop items he could stock up on.

    Krow left the shop, paid for a week in a draculkar visiting-house, engaged the security locks, and went to sleep.

    *

    Eli took off the neuro-virtual headgear, but didn''t move for several minutes. Finally, he sat up on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

    "That was slightly more intense than expected," he breathed.

    A nce at the clock said it wasn''t even nine in the morning.

 Chapter 19 - Wellness Tips For A Happy VR Life

    Eli had entered the character creation area at 7 a.m. Getting out before 9 a.m. meant he''d yed no more than four hours in-game time.

    With the Exhaustion, it had felt longer than that.

    Weak, he groaned mentally. Two hours of ytime by IRL reckoning and he was already this mentally drained.

    His body didn''t feel any of the debuffs from the game, other than needing to stretch out a few cramped muscles, which helped lessen the draining feeling.

    "This won''t do."

    Eli hadn''t bought any of the nutrient solutions that were popr on the gaming forums for ''brain power'' because he hadn''t needed any thest time.

    Butst time, there was no mental drain like this.

    His current headset was better than what he wore thest time, so it couldn''t be the gear that was the problem.

    Or was this state of mental exhaustion somon back then that he hadn''t noticed the effect of the game on him?

    Eli sat down on the bed, hid his face in his hands.

    Unbelievable.

    He''d really been living thest days of his life on Earth in a state of half-craziness.

    "No, it''d be called clinical insanity, wouldn''t it?"

    He let his body fall back on the bed, arms flopped wide.

    It didn''t matter.

    Those hundreds of rejections, the whole year of being only able to hold part-time jobs¡­it wouldn''t happen this time. He wasn''t going to go through that again.

    He was better now, stronger, and he had a goal to die for.

    "Mental training," he decided. "That''s something gamers do, right?"

    He stretched toward the headboard ledge, grabbing his phone. The visual disy lit up. "VR health maintenance, mental."

    He peered at the results, then sighed audibly and reached for his sses.

    One thing he loved about Rends and Zushkenar - he never needed sses to see a clear world.

    There were many articles, but the one that stood out was a four-year-old forum post on the Halfworld boards.

    He tapped to erge it.

    ''6 Great Wellness Tips for a Happy VR Life!'' *updated Jan 2095*

    The title alone looked like it belonged on those scam pamphlets for naturopathic medicines.

    Eli would have closed it, if not for the fact that the smart-browser noted that this was the most read and most relevant response to his query.

    ''So you''ve decided to do the smart thing and not stick your head into a blender without knowing how to put your brain back together! Good job,rade, wee to the VR survivors association!''

    "Promising," was Eli''s sarcasticment on the first paragraph. He dropped the phone on a pillow, boosted himself off the bed, into a standing position.

    "I need coffee."

    After selling his limited edition drinks, there was only water and frozen foodpaks in the fridge. He rummaged through the cupboards and spotted a coffeemaker and a small preservation pack of actual coffee beans behind a stack of paper towels.

    He got them down, confused.

    He only drank canned coffee.

    His mother wasn''t a coffee-drinker either. Her illness didn''t allow it. Eli nced to the kitchen counter, where his mother''s tea collection was boxed and ready to be moved. Then back to the coffee in his hand.

    Pale Wind Peak, that was a premium coffee brand.

    His face contorted suddenly, a suspicion forming.

    "No way."

    Had she been hiding a suitor from him?

    Good thing she did, he thought darkly, ring at the coffee. Eli knew she was lonely, so he didn''t really me her, but the him of before would''ve spiraled further.

    But who was this batard that dared court his mom behind his back?!

    Eli might never know.

    He ripped open the pack and poured most of it into the coffee machine. Thankfully, it only needed to be plugged in and attached to a water source. Everything else was automatic. There were canisters for milk, cream, and chocte that he ignored.

    "Whoever you are, you''re never getting your too-fancy coffee back."

    Who cared if it was grown in the heavenly breezes of the sacred Himyan peaks and then hand-roasted with the sweat of a hundred coffee roasting masters or something?

    He sent one more re at the coffeemaker, and sat down, pulling the visual disy up again.

    ''6 Great Wellness Tips for a Happy VR Life!'' *updated Jan 2095*

    ''So you''ve decided to do the smart thing and not stick your head into a blender without knowing how to put your brain back together! Good job,rade, wee to the VR survivors association!

    ''The first thing that you must know, is that a happy and healthy VR life starts with a healthy realworld body. The body is the castle of the mind, the temple of the avatar.

    ''VR is taxing on the mind, everyone knows that by now. The mind is sustained by the brain, and the brain is a physical organ within a singr unified organic system, which is you. To keep the brain healthy, your whole system needs to be healthy. Simple, yes?

    ''So! I''ll enumerate my wellness tips for a happy VR life!

    ''1. Half-hour of exercise at 50% - 70% of max heart rate a day.

    ''There is a statistical trend toward athletes, soldiers, farmers, and other physically fit people doing better in virtual reality than the others who don''t do their daily bicep curls. By better, I mean, better stats, better integration, and a faster time getting used to the VR world.

    ''This isn''t a small thing. Statistics rule a VR world. The smallest advantages can mean the most when you really need them.

    ''If you want to be an elite gamer, then train for the Olympics, friend!

    ''2. Get some real sleep.

    ''It''s been already stated ad infinitum that the VR trance isn''t actual sleep. So take advantage of the 4-hour VR ckout, and get enough real sleep. The rmended amount for a hardcore VR yer is at least 5 hours a day.

    ''Don''t skimp the sleep hours, because here I give you these videos that are actual documented results of not getting real sleep while VR gaming:

    [Minor Celebrity ps Everyone, No Reason]

    [Awesome Infinite Hidden Knives Bro at Train Station Security. So Cool!]

    [endless screaming brings firetruck, police, and ambnce to scene]

    [don''t mess with me, I''m a Lvl 150 magician]

    [Sis, it''s a cactus!]

    ''3. Meditation.

    ''We all learned this as kids, it''s mandatory in a lot of schools, I know. But how many of us stopped doing the basic exercises after college unless the job had mandatory group sessions?

    ''Eh? Eeeeh? Yes, I stopped too. Only picked it up again when I started the VR game Dungeon Crawl Explorers [sheepisugh.pic]. Like sleep, it helps with the mental toll that long hours of VR exacts on a yer.

    ''I''m not saying you should rece sleep with meditation. Scientists say that there is nothing that beats sleep for real rest and rxation, as our bodies have been customized to need it over the many evolutions we needed to rise from pondscum.

    ''4. Brain food.

    ''I''m not going to harp over your diets. But add some more brain food to your daily intake ¨C that means nuts, dark chocte, citrus fruits, berries, avocadoes, fish and seafood, vegetables.

    ''These are all things you can drink from a can or buy as a snack in any locality in the sr system, so who''ll believe you if you say you can''t ess them?

    ''If you don''t get smarter, then sorry. [hahadisimer.pic]

    ''5. Nutrient solutions.

    ''I didn''t rmend this the first time I wrote this article, and am only adding it now because the recent research is sanctioned by the International Food Bank Covenant. You can read the study entirely here: 45460680.bit.edu

    ''I''m not a fan of doping, unless it''s caffeine and sugar.

    ''ording to the research, they''vee out with a nutrient solution to support intense brain activity for long-term VR simtions that doesn''t have much of the side effects of othermercial doping solutions.

    ''Note that it doesn''t say ''no side effects'', but I can admit that a perfect solution at this point is a fantasy.

    ''Read the supporting IFBC article here: brainsupportsolutions.ifbc.org

    ''If you''ve not been interested in VR doping side effects before, then these articles should bring you up to speed:

    [Future of VR Sports Mirrors History of World-ss Athletics]

    [Gamer God Klein Han Speaks: ''A Life in Other Worlds Needs Sacrifice'']

    [Reuters: ''Are we to be a culture based on recreational drugs?'']

    ''You can feel I''m not so supportive, eh?

    ''Really not. But I''m no moral authority. This is only opinion.

    ''The firstmercial nutrient solutions with this new form have already been out for a month, and what you do is up to you. You can read the reviews on the different brands at anymercial site.

    ''I''ll wait to change my mind when the nutrient solutions actually work as advertised. Yes, what I''m really saying is: go forth, my people, and test this suspicious vtile substance for me, bwahahaha [evuhlisrisinugh.gif].

    ''6. Don''t take life for granted.

    ''Final tip, and most important:

    ''Life is beautiful,rades. Whether VR or realworld, don''t take life in either world for granted. We''re at the point where we can stride through different worlds, people! Don''t tell me you want to miss something!

    ''Be bnced, be awesome, be kind!

    ''Good luck everyone! Have a happy and sessful VR life!''

    Eli heard the coffeemaker gurgle as it filled the ss pot. He took a cup, sipped thoughtfully, his mind on the article.

    He spat the coffee out in the sink a secondter. "What in the world?"

    Not only does the batard have designs on a vulnerable woman, he also has shit-poor taste in coffee!

    "Who''d pay premium prices for this?"

    The only thing that was worth a good price was the rich coffee fragrance. But it wasn''t packaged as perfume, okay!?

    Eli adulterated the coffee with four great spoonfuls of sugar, and three tablespoons of milk from a canister of protein-enriched milk for ages 50+ that had expiredst month...it still looked fine, though.

    He took another sip, and sighed in satisfaction at the sweet, bitter, creamy taste. This was coffee. Not the raw bitterness that wed the tongue as furiously as a rabid stray cat.

    He studied the packet of beans suspiciously. There was no expiry date. Showy fake goods, and he thought he could court Eli''s mom?

    Tsk.

    "Pray I don''t find you," Eli muttered into his cup. He returned to the visual disy and tapped into the IFBC article.

    The International Food Bank Covenant was the reason there was little starvation in the world right now ¨C some billionaire had left them his VTOL-transport business. They were currently a UN mission organization.

    With the spread of humanity to the outers, one of their mandates was making sure anymercial food substitute worked as advertised and wouldn''t poison people.

    From what he was reading, the only reason they were supporting a VR nutrient solution was because of the implications in the spread of VR-controlled mining machines, so miners won''t have to personally operate dangerous machinery in the ck of space or within vtile atmospheres.

    The NeuronVerve form, which was the subject of the mentioned research, energized connections in the brain and left structures that protected the cells and tissues from damage.

    It left stuff in the brain?

    Nobody thought that was weird? He read further.

    Apparently it had been deemed safe.

    Eli shook his head, disbelieving.

    Apart from the NeuronVerve form, IFBC also rmended two other nutrient solutions with simr functions, Mensavit and BrainZip.

    BrainZip sounded familiar. He tapped on the link, which opened to an almost barepany page. There was a picture of a rotting brain on the banner.

    "Ah! BrainZip ZombieFluid!" Eliughed.

    Like he said, he hadn''t needed any nutrient solutions before. Also he didn''t have the money to buy it.

    But the name was funny; it stuck in the mind.

    He had paged through a list of rmended nutrient solutions when he was researching his Swordbearer, all those years ago, but he didn''t remember Mensavit or NeuronVerve ¨C they likely went by differentmercial names by then.

    But the ssic BrainZip ZombieFluid was in the top three or two rankings at that time, so it should work if he bought it in this time.

    A small bell dinged on his phone.

    It was a delivery notification. The bio-cradle he ordered had been dyed, and he was being asked if he could eptte night delivery, at 9 p.m.

    Oh right. It was a holiday.

    Eli nced at the clock.

    He''d reserved a visitor''s slot at his paternal great-aunt''s retirementmunity today.

    He still had time. He tapped an acknowledgement to the notification, and agreed that he would be avable to receive the delivery at 9 p.m.

    The hired car would arrive at ten-thirty, so Eli drained the mug of coffee and stood to get ready for the day.

 Chapter 20 - Greataunt Amila

    When Eli stepped out of the apartment, carrying the box of teas, his phone pinged with a notification. He reached for his pocket, then stumbled from the forgotten mat outside the door, the box in his hands hitting the doorway.

    "Ow," he grumbled.

    He reached up to adjust his skewed spectacles, then backed into the apartment again, reached for the half-visor on the hallway table near the exit. He put it on, clipping the connections to his earpiece, and to his sses.

    The notification appeared on his visor disy.

    The car he''d rented for the day was waiting at the taxi station nearby.

    "Good timing."

    Eli chose to buy an apartment here because he knew his mother worried about his father''s aunt who lived in a retirementmunity nearby.

    He ced the box he''d been carrying on the passenger seat and jogged around the corner to the flowershop. An armful of flowers and incense was dumped once more in the passenger seat, before he took off again for another shop.

    Finally, he slid into the driver''s side of the car and input the address of the Haversun Homes entrance gate into the AI navigator.

    The rented car was definitely less noisy than Mr. Kazan''s truck. It was faster too. The journey took only a quarter of an hour.

    There was a short line of cars outside the gates, which wasn''t unexpected.

    The gate was guarded by two people. Despite the extensive electronic security in the world, people still needed to see human security, especially in ces with a vulnerable popce like schools, hospitals, and retirement homes.

    Humans were a pack animal. Eli''s lips twisted wryly. How many humans, if their pack was gone, would do as the Armored Mothmarmot did?

    Too many.

    Laws restrained the more excessive reactions that are based on instinct, but in a gameworld where every yer knew thosews were ephemeral? It was a major reason why VRMMORPGsmonly had mechanics like Reputation Points or Alignment Ranks or Fame Points or other Virtue-Sin systems, which significantly adjusted a yer''s gameworld experience based on their moral choices.

    "Good morning, sir."

    Eli returned the greeting as he put up his phone to the floating drone scanner. The guard nced over Eli''s itinerary, and waved him inside.

    He took manual control of the car and drove to one of the single-storey houses that were the norm in this particr gatedmunity.

    Great-Aunt Am Crewan was waiting on the porch of her house, her pale grey cap of hair shining in the shade that therge tree beside the house casting over the front yard. It blocked the high morning sun from the car, which Eli was grateful for.

    "Took you long enough to visit," she tutted as he got out of the car. She directed a scowl at him. He stopped, surprised that behind the expression he could see the warmth in her eyes.

    He''d learned to read people in Zushkenar, and it was applicable here. Before Zushkenar, he just thought she was a senile woman whoined all the time.

    "I''m sorry, auntie. Have you been well?" Eli was truly contrite. It had taken him a week after returning in time to remember her, and a whole month to finallye over.

    Before that, he was sure he hadn''t visited since he was fired from work.

    "Am I well? Hmph. Tediously alone, is what I am. Everyone talking about virtual this and virtual that, no-one ys card games anymore! I tell them it''s better to talk person, then they say virtual is ''in person''! How is it the same, I ask you? That rascal grandson of Arania''s is too presumptuous."

    "What did he do?" He followed her in and put the box on a table.

    She looked at it suspiciously. "You didn''t bring one of those virtual helmet sses or something, did you?"

    He nced at the box. Eli had packed the teas in a headset box, yes. "The rascal grandson gifted you a VR headset?"

    "For everyone in themunity," his grand-aunt scoffed. "What will I do with it, hm?"

    Eli raised his brows. Even the cheapest not-new VR headgear cost several hundred ecru at least. There were six hundred people in the Haversun Homes subdivision.

    "You could try it," he suggested. "It shouldn''t be too different from augmented reality¡­"

    "Dear nephew, there is a world of difference between teleconferencing and jacking your brain into a machine that builds the conference room in your mind."

    Point.

    She looked at Eli suspiciously with the same brandy-brown eyes he inherited from his father. Her gaze was limned in the creeping blue of old age. "Don''t tell me you''ve sumbed to this craze?"

    "I don''t know about ''sumbing'', but I like that I don''t have to wear sses in a virtual world."

    "Hmph."

    "I brought what''s left of mom''s teas." He indicated the box she was so suspicious of.

    She rxed. "Tea? Insipid leaf juice, give me coffee any day. But then that young doctor said it was too much for my stomach. I should know what''s good for my own body, don''t you think!"

    "What else did the doctor say?" Eli asked casually.

    "Too many things to remember," she huffed. "I ignore him every time he starts talking. Don''t eat this, don''t eat that. Hah! I''m old, who''s he to say I don''t get to enjoy my old age?"

    Eli made a note to talk to her doctor.

    She ambled over and opened the box. "Mm, your mother liked the flowery ones, didn''t she? Good, good. I''ve run out of the one she gifted thest time. Oh, this orange peel one, your parents introduced to me at their wedding. Go put the water on, nephew, the granddaughter of that Melenda one house over baked some vegetable bread for the whole street that would go well with it."

    Vegetable bread?

    Weren''t those the steamed things Sirens made?

    Eli hid a wince but still started to heat water, listening to her stories about his parents as his aunt went through the teas, interspersed withments towards people in the retirementmunity.

    Heughed at more than one of her observations.

    He''d known his great-aunt and his mother had been close, and thest he saw of this lonely but formidable old woman was nearly eight months ago by this timeline, and a decade ago by his personal timeline.

    Eli felt a wash of fondness and grief.

    He was d he brought the teas here. He''d left them to rot thest time, along with the rest of her effects, determined to hoard every memory of his mother to himself.

    Seeing that there were others who loved her too, who hoarded those remembrances so tenderly, was painful and soothing both.

    Great-Aunt Am was one hundred and three years old, and ording to her still ''spry as a jumping rabbit, thank you!'' She would die too, some months from now ¨C a blessing, as she would not see the city she loved so much fall into a crack in the earth.

    Then Eli would be thest of his father''s family, and the rest of his rtives would be distant maternal cousins too wealthy and too proud to know him. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. This year had been so much shit. No wonder he went crazy.

    He really should visit more often. Eli only had a year left in this world, after all. And she had even less.

    The vegetable bread was unexpectedly floaty and light, buttery and subtly sweet, speckled with green and orange and yellow. Not like Siren steamed vegetable buns at all.

    How it went well with orange peel tea though¡­well, at least it didn''t taste bad?

    He nced across the table.

    His aunt brought the teacup up and inhaled the fragrance, before taking a sip. Her lips curved pleasantly. She took another sip.

    Eli hid a smile by biting into a piece of bread. ''Insipid leaf juice'', huh?

    "The taste hasn''t degraded that much," she pronounced. "I had thought them all ruined."

    "They''re all in vacuum-sealed ss." Good ones, with extra-tight sealing and temperature-control features. Eli would never understand tea-drinkers.

    For him, coffee was coffee.

    Great-aunt lifted a brow at him. "Containers fail."

    "You sound like a tea-lover," heined, teasing. "What happened to ''give me coffee any day''?"

    She grimaced, pale brows crumpling into a scowl. "It''s an acquired taste."

    He hid a mischievous smile. "Taste in the virtual world is said to be expansive these days. You can drink coffee there anytime."

    She made a grumpy sound of reproach, the looked away and drank her tea.

    Eli blinked, then grinned outright. "You''ve already tried it!"

    His aunt scowled. "The coffee tasted wrong."

    "Which tform?"

    "Halfworld."

    Eli nodded. Halfworld was free to y for explorer ounts, with fees if the yer wanted to build things. These days, people entered Halfworld for the spaceships, interster travel, and the realistic gctic expansion.

    "Have you tried others?"

    "It''s not too different, you see one, you see them all."

    "The Rends sense tform is currently the best sense-sensation virtual environment in the world, ording to research." As he said the words, something in his chest clenched and ached.

    He wanted her to see Zushkenar, the world where he grew into himself. Rends was a reasonable facsimile.

    "The wargame?" Her words dripped disdain. Her generation was responsible for much of the world all but banning national standing armies, which led to stricter regtions on weaponry and the weapons industry diminishing.

    "It actually started as a crafting game. There''s still a lot of that, and it''s a fantasy world auntie. Thendscape is very unique."

    "There can''t be a lot of safe zones in a wargame," she disagreed. "I, for one, don''t want to walk down a street and be coteral damage for gangers tossing fireballs at each other."

    He couldn''t refute that.

    It was true. Game-mandated safe zones were a thing of the past. In Rends, the safe zones were situational, ces that were deliberately protected. The holy ces might be the closest, as the ''gods'' that protected them were AI that could retaliate and NPCs would defend them.

    Even then, there were very few indestructible ces in Rends.

    "Do you have ns before the afternoon mass?"

    "We''re having lunch with the Darasuems. Their family is hosting a Souls Day barbecue. The whole street is invited. Sarah Darasuem has many nieces and granddaughters your age. You won''t be bored."

    "Auntie¡­"

    "Or do you incline to the other side? She has fewer nephews, I''m afraid. But she brags that one of them is a runway model, so they must have good genes."

    "No, auntie."

    When they got to the Darasuems, Eli handed his aunt over to her friends, immediately made for the nearby yground where the children and young teens were gathered, plopped down on the grass beneath a tree and opened the Rends forums.

    There was no way he was going to mingle with the adults when there would be three or more old people looking to meddle in the love lives of the younger generation.

    Looking at the crowd of people, from elderly to middle-aged to teen-aged to all years of pre-adolescence, Eli wondered.

    The depression and grief of the transmigrated yers after the Quake was one reason they kept to the patterns of behavior they were used to in the game.

    What if their families transmigrated with them?

    Eli pushed his sses up his nose, thoughtful.

    He opened the RSI page, navigated to the suggestion system.

    VR tourism was a phenomenon. Why did Rends and RSI not open the world to those who only wanted to see newndscapes and new peoples without getting too involved in the game?

    Temporary passes were a thing that existed, for ''Halfworld'' and other VRMMO games like ''Tomb Robbers Ancient Eras'' and ''Royal Architect''.

    [Thank you for your suggestion. We appreciate that you have given your time to helping us create better solutions.]

    He pressed his fingers against his leg, pensive.

    Would that gain more people for Zushkenar? Save more people? Or was it just yers that transmigrated?

    Eli shook his head, closed the page.

    This was about all he could do at this end. He knew too little.

    What he should do, was concentrate on Rends and rx.

    He''d only just sent off an order for a pack of BrainZip ZombieFluid, thirty minutes into his shaded rxation, when a young voice piped up.

    "You''re not supposed to be here."

    Eli nced up at the six year old, who''d crossed her arms and was pouting at him. "No?"

    "You''re an adult," she huffed.

    He nced up to see her babysitter some distance away, a college student aged woman with the same ck hair and dark eyes. He turned his gaze back to the child. "Isn''t she an adult?"

    "She''s my cousin," the girl refuted.

    "Oh, I''m not an adult either."

    "Yes you are."

    "No. I''m a ghost, currently sustaining myself by eating theughter of little children."

    The girl stared at him for a long moment. Then she screamed at the top of her lungs.

    Eli flinched back at the sudden sharp sound. He pped his hands over his ears as she ran away to her cousin.

    Well, it worked and he was alone again.

    The not-adult cousin red at him as she tried to calm the little girl down. Eli shrugged at her and tapped to the RSI video portal, RedVisor, scrolling for interesting game videos with Spell use and the Shadow Element.

    Unfortunately, no one dished out their secrets for free on the streaming site.

    "Are you really a ghost?"

    It was a young boy this time, only a year or two older than the first girl, smiling brightly.

    Eli didn''t lower his phone. "What will you do if I say ''yes''?"

    The young boy looked back at his cohort, then hissed in a whisper that carried. "Do we have holy water?"

    "No," someone hissed back. "But Bibi''s uncle can bless anything! Mama said."

    The boy turned back to Eli, pointed dramatically. "We''ll be back."

    They scurried off. Presumably to make holy water.

    Eli brushed himself off as he stood, then ambled back toward the Darasuem house. Maybe they had a quiet corner there, with no children attempting to exorcise him with ''blessed'' water.

    Also, they were already serving the barbecue.

    The mass was at three in the afternoon.

    That was only two hours away.

    Eli wasn''t religious, but his father''s family was part of the United Christian Church. He''d sit through worse than a choir and sermons for Great-Aunt Am.

    He was, in fact, sitting through worse.

    Keeping up an empty smile while being introduced around to people who were his physical age range and coincidentally single was hellish.

    He was relieved though, that his aunt wasn''t as lonely as he thought she was.

    The church wasrge; it echoed. The words of the priests and the elegiac songs of the people rang and thundered through the alcoves and the small spaces of the soul.

    His fingers drummed on his leg, as he fought to keep his expression neutral.

    There were no Earth religions in Zushkenar.

    Still, these songs were so familiar.

    Of course, they had been familiar before Zushkenar, but in Zushkenar those who had faiths retained the songs and parables from different religions. Clinging to everything that was lost, the transmigrated yers learned too. The first time he''d been to the aftermath of a battle after the Quake, he''d been surprised to hear the songs sung at both funeral and celebration.

    The familiar songs weren''t sung in churches, but rang in clear air, in taverns, in private houses, by mercenaries or soldiers or crafters of all races. They were mixed with Earth-made pop songs, and folk songs, and new songs written by transmigrated musicians.

    Zushkenar and Earth flickered, merged, separated in Eli''s mind as a particrlymon hymn burst from the throats of a hundred people.

    His twitching fingers stopped, dug into his thighs.

    Earth, he reminded himself.

    He was on Earth.

    Listen. Listen closely.

    Despite being the same songs, the way they sung was different. This church congregationcked the intensity that came after a battle, the reverent relief at being alive, the hidden bone-deep anger at being alive, the ripping grief at the loss of a thousand little familiarities.

    Eli rxed slowly.

    But then tears formed in his eyes.

    How was that better, exactly?

    A thin, elderly hand sped his whitened fingers. He took a deep breath and refused to let the tears fall, forced his fingers to loosen their grip. His aunt would only worry. He sped her hand back,forting.

    He was fine.

    In thete afternoon, after mass, they both stood before the family memorial walls, before the ancestors of his blood, and lit incense while cing flowers on the ledges.

    He watched curls of smoke rise up in velvety strands from the incense sticks.

    Fifty years ago, the memorial hill would have been flickering with thousands of small mes from candles. He''d seen a documentary. Today, no one made candles that weren''t electric anymore.

    He''d have liked to light one, he thought; an actual me candle. Real fire was more appropriate for Zushkenar than just smoke and fragrance. But he didn''t; just watched the smoke of a thousand tiny pyres disappear into the sky and let himself hope that it was enough for the souls of the lost.

    The sun sank on the horizon, painting the clouds with red and orange.

    "I''ll visit next week, auntie," he promised as he escorted his aunt to her room, after another tea and bread meal. She''d been tired out by the holiday.

    "Hmph. I''ll believe you this once." But her hand tightened briefly on his before she let go.

    Eli smiled a little painfully and left her to get ready for bed. He checked security one more time before letting himself out of the house. He took out his phone, tapped a visiting schedule into his phone, and sent it to his aunt. It was up to her to confirm it with the Haversun Homes security systems.

    It was already eight in the evening when he turned into the street his apartment building was in.

    Parking in an empty spot, he tapped the controls, indicating to the hiringpany that the car was ready for pickup, and walked from the station to his building.

    "Oh, hey, are you Elias Crewan?" asked one of the two men waiting with arge package outside his apartment.

    "You''re early," he greeted. "You didn''t wait long?"

    The man shrugged. "Just got here."

    The other leaned forward to see Eli from across his friend. "I told him the reason for thete delivery was the All Souls Day visiting, but he didn''t believe me."

    "You should have contacted me." Eli unlocked the door. "Come in."

    It was good they were here now.. The faster he got used to his avatar-body in Rends, the better.

 Chapter 21 - Cradle Installation

    "So," smiled the more outgoing deliveryman as he and hispanion dragged the delivery cart into Eli''s apartment. "Where do we set up this thing?"

    Eli paused.

    He''d thought he would return home early enough that he could clean out a space.

    He smiled at the delivery guys ndly. "You don''t mind if you help ready a room, don''t you?"

    The quieter one looked about to protest, but the other cut him off. "Sure, no problem. We''re supposed to assist in instation anyway."

    "Great." He motioned them to follow to his bedroom. "I just need the bedframe re-sized smaller."

    The bedframe was from Sikea Company, and the parts could be rearranged like one of those transformer puzzle toys. Eli grabbed the mattress and pillows to put into the other bedroom for the moment.

    When he returned, the two men already were halfway to remaking his single bed into something the size of a big couch. He helped them lift and move the parts properly.

    "We''ll be blocking the power supply if we leave it like this."

    "Just move it against the other wall. No, this way."

    *Cough* *Cough*

    "¡­I''ll get the vacuum brush cleaners."

    It took three passes of the robotic cleaners before the dust was cleared. In the end, they had to move the other furniture around in various ways beforeing to a good arrangement.

    The bio-cradle came with a small generator, rated for ten days of power, and a ckbox.

    The cradle and paraphernalia took up more space than Eli first thought.

    "The data storage can handle 1440 hours of video at SXHD quality, but you can buy more." The quieter of the two stated as they attached the headgear to the ports inside the cradle. "I think the headset only has 60 hours."

    "Not that a lot of people use that level of quality," said the other. "Uploading on a busy day is tragic. There''s already a video-editing program with the basic interface, but I suggest outsourcing that if you haven''t done any vid work before. If you upload to RedVisor, even at 100% real, HD13 is the best. Keep your originals and backups at SXHD though."

    "You keep talking your nonsense at people," huffed his friend, who turned to Eli. "Don''t mind him. Just y how you want to."

    "No, it was helpful," Eli waved the apology off. "I didn''t know RedVisor could take that kind of vidquality."

    "Most yers upload HD10, which is fine for 2-3D 360 degree viewing, but much of the detail is lost when you rey in VR. Which is the point."

    Eli nodded in understanding. "They don''t want their secrets getting out?"

    "Exactly. HD13 gives better yback in VR but also loses some of that detail people keep worrying about. Who wants to copy them? Rends has infinite ystylebinations, the idiots. I''d like explorers to use higher quality vids more, but the skrags keep sending me their originals in HD11 max, can you believe it."

    "You''re a vid-editor?"

    The quiet one smirked. "Now you see his angle."

    "I don''t think my videos would be popr," Eli shrugged. "So I don''t need a vid-editor."

    "I guessed," the outgoing one said, nodded at the headset. "That''s the Lazybones, right? In glorious MarkIX no less. You''re nning on craft in Rends. My sister has the same, but a MarkVIII. She''d never have bought a cradle for her crafting though."

    Not entirely crafting. But Eli wasn''t telling them that. "I don''t like war," he said instead.

    "Who does? Your money your choice, friend." The man straightened from the ports on the bio-cradle. "I think that''s it. First testing then."

    "Are you nning on using nutrient solutions, by the way?" the quiet one asked.

    "I am," Eli replied as he sat down on the bio-cradle.

    The outer shell looked like a smooth nautilus, supported by a wide sturdy base. And when fully seated, he briefly imagined he was in a baby pram. Eli inwardlyughed at the thought. He settled his limbs into the arm and leg rests.

    "Oral or intravenous?"

    "The second." There had been problems with oral VR nutrient solutions in the future, but Eli didn''t know what specifically. Something about interaction with stomach acids that made the solution gassy?

    The quiet one nodded and turned to rummage in his bag. He came out with a package that looked vaguely medical.

    "What''s that?"

    "Training wheels," the outgoing one grinned as he adjusted the bio-cradle to Eli''s dimensions.

    The other rolled his eyes. "Medical tattoos. They use them to mark important body parts, in first aid instruction and medical schools. You''re going to use an intravenous cuff; we''re just marking the position."

    Eli felt a little confused. "I just fasten it right before the elbow, what''s there to mark?"

    "You''d be surprised how many people don''t know where that is." The quiet one said dryly. "Now, arm?"

    Eli extended his arm, watched as the man wrapped a piece of sticky paper around his forearm and slowly pulled a strip of stic until the whole piece of paper turned green.

    Upon removal, a runway in sky-blue and lime-green wrapped around Eli''s forearm. He peered at the pretty swirling designs at the edges, reminiscent of the sea.

    "Just position the cuff between the lines."

    "It''ll take a month to fade, so better if it''s pretty, eh? You can buy the strips in any pharmacy if you need more." The outgoing one tapped on his tablet. "How''s the cradle?"

    "Comfortable." Eli wiggled in ce. Superfortable even.

    "I''ll turn on the massage feature, low power," the other said, then pushed a mechanical dial. The man saw him staring dubiously. "There were problems with digital controls some years ago. It''s patched, so don''t worry there''s digital control on the panel. The manual controls are just secondary, in case the digital panel has problems. If it does, feel free to call thepany."

    Eli rxed with a contented hum as the cradle started gently vibrating, and he could feel the cushions under him start pressing on his back, legs, and arms, in a pattern that the ads said was scientifically proven to be stress-reducing.

    "It works? No pinching, difort, or sudden stabbing?"

    Eli lifted a browzily, leaning more against the cradle cushions. "That happens?"

    "Let''s move to medium powered massage before I answer that."

    The increased hum of the cradle and the firmer movements almost lulled Eli to sleep. "No pinching or stabbing."

    "High-powered then. Brace yourself."

    "Why? Whoa!"

    The outgoing oneughed. "Good, right?"

    Eli glowered at him. High-powered massage was not conducive to sleep. He rxed again.

    "The data is all within eptable parameters," the quiet one noted.

    The cradle shut off.

    "We test each unit before delivery, of course," the other said, as he tapped on his tablet. "But testing again is always best. If you have maintenance concerns, we have a three-year service warranty. Next test is the integration with the headgear."

    Eli reached up to pull the headset down, turned it on.

    "You should see a blue BaggaInstuments logo on the left. Just let the program run. Aaaand, connection. It looks good from this end."

    Eli nodded, headgear moving with him. "Green here, too."

    "And that''s it! All done, Mr. Crewan."

    "It''s Eli." He moved the headset up again.

    "I''m Deiks and this is Han." The outgoing one smiled. "You should have an addition to your inventory, if all went right. A vid-eye pet owl, I think. Will record all your exploits automatically, from three points of view. Limited edition, for this model only."

    "The only reason I don''t stop most of his spiel," added Han.

    "It''s relevant!" Deiks winked smugly. "If it''s not there, just send a message through the site."

    "I thought I could cut videos from the system records?" Eli boosted himself off the bio-cradle, watched as the two started disengaging their monitors from the setup.

    "You could, but those recordings are centered on you. A dedicated vid-eye program gives you more angles. The more dedicated gamers use two or more vid-eyes to record." Deiks sighed. "Do you know how tedious it is to watch the same thing multiple times from weird angles, then splice a good action vid together? And people have the gall to argue about the cost."

    The quiet one, Han, looked at Eli, stowing tools into his bag. "I know he looks more dedicated to a hobby than his job, but he''s actually good at his job."

    Eliughed. "I have water and snacks in the kitchen."

    The two declined the snacks but took the water. Eli signed the delivery and servicepletion form on Deiks'' tablet and sent them off.

    He took out his phone, paged to the notification of delivery, which was now marked as ''Delivery Completed!'' and tapped four stars out of five for the service.

    He paused, then added a tip for the deliverymen.

    They did help him arrange the bedroom after all.

    He gulped down his own bottle of water as he studied the frozen foodpaks avable for him tonight. Beef noodle soup, mas chicken, swiss steak.

    They were all one-star Michelin-rated packages. He hadn''t noticed earlier.

    His lips curved, a smile of self-ridicule.

    One year from now, all of that luxury would be reced by cheap noodles, packaged soup, tofu, and potato-cheese steamed buns.

    He opened the foodpak of swiss steak, mixed in a couple packages of wide noodles, and tossed everything in the wave oven.

    The oven revitalized the frozen food, gently coaxing it back to life, until it was nearlyparable to fresh-made top level chef-made cuisine. It was one of the many conveniences he''d missed in Zushkenar. Their food storage and preservation techniques were not quite as advanced.

    Tender fat-marbled steak strips in thick savory vegetable sauce, plus the noodles. He slurped up a forkful.

    Ah, delicious.

    When was thest time he''d eaten premium grade Earth beef?

    He didn''t remember.

    But it was different from the meat of even the fattiest Zushkenari monster meat.

    He closed his eyes and ate slowly, let the food fully settle, fortifying.

    Weeping graves, was he being sentimental?

    He forked up another mouthful.

    No.

    There was nothing sentimental about this.

    He was going to get someone to breed wagyu cattle in Zushkenar somehow, just wait.

    After eating, he tossed the recyble foodpak containers into the trash and went to his room.

    The blinking indicators of the still active bio-cradle shone in the center of the dark space, the lights of the city visible from the balcony enough to illuminate the room.

    Eli was used to bright nights.

    He shucked off the jacket he''d been wearing, faintly smelling of incense. It dropped to the floor, crumpled.

    The cushions of the bio-cradle were both soft and firm, even morefortable now.

    He lowered the headgear, letting it cradle his temples.

    Time to enter Rends again.

 Chapter 22 - Real Clothes Are Scratchy, Or Silk

    Ny-five percent realism was, to Krow, unexpectedly lessfortable than before. Suddenly, he could feel the clothes scratching on his healing scars, dirt itch between his fingernails, his hair prickle in irritation due to various debris.

    It had been a mistake to go to bed in-game before showering.

    Ugh.

    He scrubbed the dirt away, the soft brush cleaning even nails and hair, mucky liquid draining into the grooves in the stone floor, thankful there was a bathroom attached to his rented rooms with artificially hot stones to warm the water.

    Just one month back on Earth and he was already spoiled.

    If Zushkenar didn''t have magic and ways to replicate Earth''s modernforts to some degree, Krow mused with some humor, the yers who transmigrated would''ve adapted less easily, wouldn''t have embraced their second world with the verve that they did.

    Finishing, he cranked off the water, the sluice trickling down to a drip. Maybe he should introduce a showerhead in some way.

    He shook his head. "Not currently important."

    Building a house was definitely a future n, though.

    Thend update was offered at the same time as the craft update.

    He pulled down the lever marked ''breezedry'' and spread his arms, letting the artificial windstreams take care of the water trickling off his now clean body.

    He nced at his clothes, frowned at the grime that was now more visible, the more pronounced rips.

    A downside.

    Under 90% realism, the starting clothes only needed a Clothesmend Spell to be eternally usable.

    Now it probably also needed AllClean or Purify for maintenance.

    "Or an Enchantment."

    It was a First Apprentice Enchantment technique though, to learn how to blend a Spell with an object. Making self-cleaning and self-repairing clothes would have to wait until then.

    Krow took the Darkfall cape and snapped it, backing away at the dust it shook off. The cloak had taken most of the damage and grime of the fight. He tossed it over a chair.

    He shook the starting tunic and trousers the same way and put them on, grimacing. They were the clothing items that had the least wear and tear.

    But after a refreshing shower, wearing unwashed clothes was still ufortable.

    He''d endured simr conditions before, he reminded himself. He turned to the slip-on starting shoes; they were already fraying.

    He needed boots, new clothes, and aundry shop.

    After tossing the bedding into aundry basket, he folded the Darkfall Hooded Cape, tucked it under an arm, left the room.

    "Excuse me," he osted a draculkar carrying arge heap of linens. "Would you tell me where the clothes shop is?"

    There should be a tailor somewhere around here, right?

    Bad luck if this was one of the viges where people made and mended their own clothes.

    The draculkar gave him a once over and grinned sharply, fangs peeking out a bit. "You sorely need it, truly."

    Krow gave him a slight smile. Friend, you don''t need to be so blunt, okay?

    "It''s in Rormessk," the draculkar said, nodding at therger tower beside them "two levels up from us."

    "Thank you, don''t let me hold you up." Krow leaned over the balcony rail, studying the walkways and stairs.

    He''d learned in the Gardens that scouting a path first through thebyrinth of floating and hanging paths the draculkar race seemed to prefer saved a lot of griefter.

    The vige walkways weren''t as confusing as the Gardens though.

    Krow found the clothing shop easily. Even with the shop sign almost concealed, as if the tailor was conflicted about actually wanting customers, it was only one of three doors on the level.

    The sign was a dusky kind of wood with only the delicately carved word ''Moonlight'' to differentiate the shop from a residence.

    A tinkle of delicate bells announced his entrance.

    He perked an ear for a moment, as the tinkling had a tune. A lubye he''d heard Gojo sing under his breath sometimes, to the younger ones on bad nights.

    An odd choice for a shop.

    He nced around, interested. The shop posed at least a dozen mannequins in various clothing styles.

    Only bespoke tailors IRL still used model disys and had physical locations. He''d never been to one, even for his expensive interview suit.

    Most clothing stores had 3D online catalogs ¨C easier because a person can just plug in their size measurements for automatic fitting. For custom adjustments and tailoring, take a 360-degree measurement-grid photo and upload to the site.

    Krow walked around the disys. Draculkar fashion, it seemed, tended toward infinite non-bright shades of red, blue, grey, and white, with green and cream thrown in here and there.

    How many colors can you pair with violet-shaded skin?

    He stopped for a moment as the tinkling reached a crescendo, humming along.

    "You know the music." The murmured statement had him ncing at the old woman who''de up, shadowed by one of the flouncier flowery disy suits. It looked like it was male clothing too. Gah. At least the colors were pleasing.

    "I''ve haven''t heard it in a long time," Krow said.

    The nights where he and his group had to huddle for warmth against the chill had been years ago, and most of the people scattered around the continent in various professions by the time he died.

    He executed a bow, brief but deep. Draculkar revered their elderly, if he recalled correctly. The old woman had the pale silver stripe in her hair of someone at least in their third century. "I am s Krow. For now, a traveler."

    "Janggi bal Nareya. Tailor. Well met, s Krow." The old woman studied him, back straight as a steel rod, a cane in one hand. "You havee for a wardrobe?"

    "Just the basics."

    She exhaled through the nose, a quick puff of air. It wasn''t contempt, but Krow didn''t know if it was approval or disapproval. Gojo had huffed hisughter a lot.

    Was that normal among draculkar?

    Gazzy was right.

    Where was the Lore?

    Why, when Rep was so important, wasn''t there wasn''t a manual for interpretation and interaction with the various races? Or at least awbook that was part of the introduction materials.

    Theck of widespread understanding led to a cultural divide that had been difficult to bridge after the Quake.

    "Even a traveler should have more than," she waved down his body disdainfully with a wrinkled hand. "that."

    Eh. Disapproval then.

    "A traveler might lose things quickly, in many situations," he refuted easily. "It''s best to travel light."

    "There are other shops for ''the basics''," she pointed out, eyeing the mannequin Krow had been studying, then looking him over, shaking her head.

    True, he did not have theplexion for ruffles. Zimmerian Silk Formal Court Dress, said his visual disy. Price: ?????

    "This was the ce I was directed to." He wasing to think it had been a prank. Was the number of ?s the same as the number of zeroes in the price tag?

    A steep price for non-armored clothing.

    "Ah." A wealth of understanding in that single syble.

    "Hm," Krow agreed. "Do you have anything a little more durable than Zimmerian silk?"

    Zimmerian silk was from the spiders of the Zimmerian Canyon in Amvard. The silk could only be harvested in the grey of dawn before actual sunrise, when the spiders were at the most sluggish part of their biocycle.

    There were simr spider canyons in Marfall, though smaller. But real Zimmerian silk was a unique silver-green color and could not be dyed ¨C something about the ingredients in the smoke that silk-hunters used to quiet the spiders.

    It was a fairly durable textile. Just not enough forbat. For one, the effort involved meant that even the low-quality pieces were expensive. The raw silk was delicate and broke easily, making it difficult to weave without magic.

    That, more than anything, convinced him that the woman was a master enchanter.

    It wasn''t really surprising.

    Starting viges were kinder to new yers than the towns or cities. And it wasn''t unreasonable for a couple of questlines to start with some secret grandmaster or other.

    Triggering those questlines, however....that depended on the quick thinking of the yer. ssically, yers just went to an NPC and asked ''do you need help'' or some simr variation. It was a moreplex exchange in a VRMMO, with game developers wanting a more lifelike social experience.

    Social skills and social links affected gamey. It was difficult for a solo yer to stay in their shell, in Rends; they had to force themselves to engage.

    But really, nothing said that the social links had to be with other yers. In fact, social links with NPCs could be just as valuable.

    Janggi unexpectedly chuckled at his question, then motioned him to follow, out from the disys into the back room.

    What?

    He''d have expected her to throw him out. This was obviously a high-end shop. Krow only wanted a few pieces of light armor, and some cheap recements until someone could mend and clean his starter clothes.

    Starting gear was important.

    That one thing wasmon advice in all the newbie forum threads Krow remembered from the first time he signed up for Rends: ''Keep your starting gear, or regret it at Lvl 50.''

    "A basic traveler''s wardrobe ¨C not something asked of me often, these days. Let''s find what you need, shall we? Seven full outfits and one formal, won''t you say?"

    Seven?! How was that basic?

    It''s not like he had more corporate suits than that, but he was also nning to buy armor, alright? Blowing cash on non-armored clothing was a waste.

    "Three," he protested. "And no formal."

    "You have passed the majority?" She demanded. "Older than twenty-five?"

    "I¡­yes."

    "I thought so," she nodded. "Then you need a formal outfit."

    "I''ll have no use for it."

    "That is said by many. Until theye to me crying and panicked, that it is after all needed. Five outfits and the formal."

    "Three," he insisted. "No formal."

    "Even if you do not n on settling down, a basic formal outfit will be a boon to meeting people, trading, negotiation. Or how do you convince people, s Krow, that you are trustworthy enough to walk through theirnds?"

    Shkav. She wasn''t going to back down.

    "Five," he agreed, mulishly. "Including the formal."

    "Agreed," she uttered, just as reluctantly, after a moment when he thought she was going to refuse. "And a non-formal cloak."

    "I have enough trouble keeping the damned cape from getting in the way. A cloak would be worse."

    Her gaze went to the revolver strapped to his leg with some small disapproval. Draculkar preferred des, traditionally.

    "Something like this, then?" She pushed a rack of shirts aside, to lift a hooded phelonion-style cloak, the short front panels sped together by three frog closures.

    As most of the fabric was behind the shoulders, it was less obstructive than the Darkfall cape.

    It was also, unfortunately, brocade, in cream and green.

    Tsk.

    Still too fancy. But it was an eptable style.

    "Not in that color." Krow looked around at the hung pieces of half-done clothing ¨C brocade, embroidery,ce everywhere. "Something more¡­usable than these, possibly? Can they be armored?"

    She nced at him out the corner of her eyes, imperious. "Young one, ''durable'' does not mean ''in''. And armor? Are you draculkar or not?"

    Weeping graves, this was going to be a fight, wasn''t it?

    But he didn''t leave.

    This was likely the only enchanted clothing shop in the vige.

    A starting vige barely had any worthwhile yer gear, and there was no way Krow was going on another quest without upgrading his defensive clothing.

    "But ''in'' means ''not attracting all the bandits and thieves in visual range to target the lone traveler''. And armor can mean the life of said traveler."

    "A lone traveler," she countered, "in these fraught times, is a stupid traveler."

    "Fraught?"

    Her gaze narrowed, piercing.

    "As I have heard, it is the young ones who are calling for change. A prerogative of the younger generation," she lifted her hands, palms up. The draculkar shrug. "Bold, to speak against the Cyzar. The voice of the people often gets muddled as it reaches the highborn courts, however."

    A quest prompt?

    Cyzar was the title for the draculkar king.

    The game was determinedly throwing him toward joining the wars, huh.

    "Then possibly the divide between the sses should be breached more often," Krow said disinterestedly. "To encourage a wider viewpoint in all aspects. It has nothing to do with me."

    Janggi''s golden gaze settled on him for longer than he feltfortable.

    Who came up with theseplicated ways to ept or refuse quests? The ancient and ssic Y/N notifications were fine, right?

    "A strong view, for someone so uninterested." She gently lifted a piece of cloth to let him see.

    "I can hold strong opinions and not want to be involved, like I can call this embroidery beautiful and inspired without wanting to ce it on my clothes."

    Janggi lowered the cloth, with a smile. "Strong opinions are rarely divorced from action. And you will buy that embroidery, as it does suit you."

    "Too fancy to be unting only before woond beasts, don''t you think?"

    "Perhaps." She pulled a cloth sample, gesturing.

    "I''m not wearing that bright a blue." Krow rejected it immediately.

    "It will go well with a draculkar of Air, don''t you think?"

    It took Krow a moment to grasp that she was talking about elemental alignment.

    "Shadow, actually," he refuted, then in his head immediately kicked himself. Had he been arguing too much with thisdy already, that he needed to blurt out his personal info to win?

    "Shadow?" She paused, a moment of surprise. "Not amon alignment in our race."

    He silently groaned at himself. If this were a battle, which it definitely was, he''d just given her an advantage.

    Idiot.

    "No?" He had only met ten or so draculkar in his life, and two of them were Shadow aligned. With that sample size, it wasn''tmon?

    She looked pensive at his dubious question, but she put down the light blue cloth and picked up a rust-red and dark silver sample. "Perhaps you are indeed a traveler."

    He didn''t know what to say to that. What did she think he was then, if she hadn''t believed he was a traveler?

    "Darker still than those," he gestured instead at the cloth sample.

    She sighed disapprovingly, but eded.

    The discussion went easier as she stuck to the darker and duller colors, with minimal light ents. At least he convinced her to keep the embroidery to the same color as the cloth, so the designs weren''t immediately evident.

    Krow wasn''t going to pay the 10,000 drax Enchantment for 1% HP-recovery ¨C which, seriously, that was possible on clothing?! But some added VIT wasn''t out of the question.

    "You can Enchant cloth with that much Durability?" It was apromise, as she rejected the armor tes he wanted added to the design. Too bulky and ugly, she said.

    "Why not?" Janggi looked offended. "You think only jewels and bones can be Enchanted? That only armor can block attacks?"

    The only reason the Darkfall Hooded Cape could block attacks was the thin armor panels on the shoulders, so he thought so, yes. Apparently, Enchanting grandmasters can break gamews.

    Technically it was a loophole ¨C Durability wasn''t an Armor Enchant, but a General one.

    A pity she wouldn''t let him help. Under a master like her, he''d have leveled his Enchanting even up to Second Apprentice within a week.

    "Stop asking," she finally glowered, "or be banned from the premises!"

    She tossed the new cloak at him as he left. He stuffed it in his inventory defiantly.

    So with his new clothes on, he dropped the starter clothes at a rmended seamstress to be cleaned and mended. He was on his way to a shoemaker when a yell caught his attention.

    "That''s him!"

    He only nced briefly at themotion. There were always thieves around.

    "See, he has a gun! Sharpshooter!"

    That was¡­

    Krow looked in the direction of the excitement, more wary.

    Shkav, why were people looking back. He saw a boy pointing at him and jumping up and down.

    That didn''t bode well.

    He slipped out of the central za.

    "Wait, mister!"

    Unfortunately, draculkar vige architecture didn''t have alleys. He turned at a stifled giggle.

    Velinel waved at him from arge, opened window one level above, hugely amused. "How were the Gardens, great hunter?"

    Oh.

    This was how the +25 Rep from the hidden quest was spread?

    "He went this way!" cried someone from the za.

    Krow winced and leaped for Velinel''s window ledge. "This isn''t your house, is it?"

    It was too low on the tower for a local residence.

    She grinned and stepped back. "ssmaker workshop."

    "Excuse me then." He boosted himself through the window as footsteps rounded the corner of the tower.

    "I think he went to the market za!"

    Krow held still against the wall by the window as Velinel leaned out. "They''re gone."

    He rxed. "A little excessive. Doesn''t the vige have hunters?"

    "We do," Velinel snickered. "But it''s been¡­five years, maybe? Since an Armored Mothmarmot was killed with all its pack, and so near the vige. A few of the crafters probably set their apprentices on you, for the monster materials."

    "Oh." Not so serious then. He rxed further. "How did they know, anyway?"

    Fortunately, 25 Rep was still firmly in the Unknown territory. If he recalled correctly, being Known needed 200 Rep.

    "A group of apprentices and prospective apprentices were tending to coppertwist shrubs on the upper walkways. You really dropped a rockpir on it?"

    "I couldn''t make it leave me alone," he protested.

    "A good thing you herded it away from the vige, young one." The unfamiliar voice made him jump, to see an older man seated in a corner, examining shards of ss.

    Velinel smiled sweetly. "This is my father, Karyavan bal Iluggei. ssmaker."

    Krow bowed politely, after briefly mock-ring at Velinel for not warning him. "Sir, I am s Krow."

    "Thest time an Armored Mothmarmot was so close to the vige, half of us fell ill with the poison. The caravans were turned away. A tragedy."

    The poison or the caravans?

    The man didn''t look like he was expecting an answer though, so focused was he on ss. Krow nced at Velinel, who skipped to sit near her father, picking up pieces of ss herself and sorting them.

    Krow''s lips quirked. Can that happen with sound-based sensing? Or was it vibration-based?

    Equating this cheery girl with the stoneshark that killed him¡­.

    It didn''tpute.

    "Do you still need those ringbell flowers?"

    *

    **

    End Chapter

    **

    Notes: phelonion-style refers to the liturgical vestments of the eastern orthodox church, where the cloak is chest-height in front and falls to below the knees in the back.

    *

    If you see this work on other websites, know that the author posts exclusively on the AllNovelFull site. If you like the story, please support by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

    Also, for those who are interested, there is an unfinished copy of a Zushkenar map here: Hunters Guide map cities grid b by kilrain on DeviantArt

 Chapter 23 - Fetch Quests Are Not Citizenship Requirements

    Krow twitched the hem of his new [Albaed Travel Cloak], letting the fall of the cloth hide his revolver. He nced around, to see no one.

    Rumors said that the defeater of the Armored Mothmarmot was a draculkar gunman. Of course, ording to a snickering Velinel, the rumors also said he was three meters tall and hadrge ck wings.

    Taking no chances, he donned the cloak before leaving the Velinel''s father''s workshop. It was pretty nice, with hidden slits in the sides for a better range of arm movements.

    He liked it.

    Not that he was ever telling Janggi that.

    |:Deliver Painted ss Samples:|

    [Category: Common (Beginner)]

    [Karyavan of n Iluggei asked you to deliver a pallet of Painted ss Samples to the ssmaker Adrahj on Tur-Rormessk.]

    [You will gain: +2 Reputation Points, +7 Experience Points, +4 Silver Serpens]

    Gaining a beginner quest off Velinel''s father wasn''t difficult.

    Krow nodded in satisfaction as he saw the Hidden Quest bonus was already evident; the rewards on the Common quest increased.

    The quest wasn''t problematic either. Krow already knew which tower was called Rormessk, and it wasn''t a battle quest.

    He couldn''t take a battle-rted quest. Not for his usual reasons, but because what the hell is a cksmith that won''t make bullets?!

    Apparently buying anything that wasn''t knives or swords or ives or anything ded in a draculkar vige was more challenging than expected.

    " ¨C these days, the gall!" was the reaction of the second cksmith he visited on Rormessk tower. "Why, in my day people would never insult a craf ¨C"

    Krow closed the door behind him, cutting off the tiradepletely.

    Good soundproofing.

    He massaged his temples, staving off a growing headache. He only wanted to get a few errands done on the way to finishing a quest, damnit.

    "What was the use of a cksmith that won''t make your preferred weapons?"

    No one in the vige made bullets? Impossible.

    Nothing in the forums said that battle sses were limited by race.

    "I didn''t have this problem thest time!" Heined to no one.

    But then again, he''d yed a human swordsman, which was the most generic race-ss pairing in any game ever. Humans were adaptable, and every race made swords.

    Apparently being a draculkar gunman was semi-scandalous.

    Yet another reason not to stay in the inner regions of draculkar territory. Yet another reason a lorebook would have been useful.

    Krow stalked off, took the steps two at a time to the next level.

    By the time he reached a door marked ''Adrahj'', his irritation had bled off a little. He''d seen a weapons-dealer in the upper za, and a few others casually carting rifles around.

    He''d just buy bullets from the caravan traders.

    "I have a delivery of ss samples," he greeted as the crystalline door opened.

    The man blinked at his abruptness, but nodded. "Bring it here, if you would."

    Krow ejected the pallet from his Inventory, onto the indicated table near the inner door. The ce was a shop. ss sculptures reflected and refracted light amongst themselves, creating a dreamily bright and airy feel about the ce.

    [You''ve finished the quest |:Deliver Painted ss Samples:| and have gained +2 Reputation Points, +7 Experience Points, +4 Silver Serpens!]

    Adrahj pried open the pallet and frowned at the ss inside. He took one and tossed it into a cauldron just visible inside the inner doorway. The cauldron puffed blue and green smoke like a silent slowly exploding volcano. "Hah. I knew it."

    He started scribbling on paper, stopped, then just stood there, contemtive.

    Krow wondered if ssmaking could be used to increase his Smelter rank.

    He could try, right? But the ssmaker had fallen into a trance. He knew better than to interrupt a crafter.

    Another time, then.

    He made his slow way to the door, because the shop really had so many interesting statuettes. Adrahj turned, then blinked at Krow as he leaned closer to a ss vase made of dancing draculkar.

    "You have an interest in ssmaking, young one?"

    "Your work is beautiful." Krow pointed at a seadrake sculpture, proudly rising on a stand, fins spread in sheer glee of jumping above the waves. "Is it amber?"

    Adrahj''s eyes crinkled as he smiled, crows'' feet prominent. The man was older than Krow thought, maybe even older than Karyavan. At least four hundred years, possibly?

    When did draculkar start to show their age? Janggi looked like she was in a human''s thirties or forties. This man looked at least fifty.

    "All here is ss, but thank you for thepliment. This color, particrly," he moved to Krow''s left and touched a gentle finger to the translucent gold and red seadrake. "from a rather vtile mix of dust and monster fur in the kiln."

    He turned to Krow, silver eyes curious. "Unusual, to see a young one of the high mountains who knows what sea-borne amber looks like."

    "I traveled, sir," he said at the man''s expectant air. "I am Krow."

    "Aha. And I am Adrahj, of the Gremut ssmakers. It''s not often Karyavan sends someone to me who does not wish to join our ranks."

    "I have an interest, but I must also leave. I only briefly assisted Karyavan''s daughter, so he gave me an errand." Krow shook his head. "The dust and fur you use, do you possibly mean mothmarmot materials? Are there other uses?"

    He only knew the golden Flutterpoison Dust was used in anaesthetics.

    Common advice told new yers to sell low-level materials at the first sign that someone would buy them, but Krow didn''t need the money.

    What he needed was materials for enchanting practice.

    Or maybe he should sell them before they started to degrade?

    Nah, it took a month before low-quality monster materials started to rot. He could just sell them in the lower reaches if he hadn''t started Enchanting by then.

    "It''s windrat fur and mothmarmot dust. Not my best idea, but as you say, beautiful." Adrahj started shoving papers into a folder-satchel, writing furiously on some before binding them with twine and tossing them into a satchel. "You know monster Bones can be used to enchant high-level items, of course? The Crystalwing Bones of the mothmarmots are generally used for Air-aligned weaponry. The Dust, well you''ve already seen the ss it makes. Mostly valuable to apothecaries, though. Popr in scar-removers and Paralyzing Mist potions. As for the fur, you''re better off asking a tailor. It makes for brittle ss."

    Adrahj tossed thest of the papers into the satchel. "Take this back to Karyavan¡­no, no, not him. He won''t answer immediately. Eh, just send it on then. To Fanthalber. He should be at the market tonight or tomorrow."

    He paused, nced at Krow. "You don''t mind, do you? Fanthalber''s an elusive one."

    "No, I don''t mind." Another delivery, meh. But it didn''t seem urgent, so Krow had time to explore the vige a bit.

    [You have a new quest!]

    Adrahj smiled, pleased. "Excellent."

    He trussed the satchel up in ribbon of some kind and stamped a wax seal over the front.

    Krow ced the sealed satchel of papers in his inventory.

    He took the stairs upward, to the upper market za.

    Gremut didn''t look like it had the poption to support two cksmiths and an enchanted clothing shop. That meant it was an important stop on the trade trail.

    Good.

    Krow wouldn''t have a problem finding a caravan headed toward a city or town. The weapon sellers were gone since yesterday though.

    "Oh, Tembol''s merchants," said the human tradeswoman he''d asked. "Saw them pulling out at dawn. Might want a fast horse, if you want to catch up with them."

    Tsk.

    "Any others I can buy bullets from?"

    She looked him over and shook her head. "Not a popr weapon in these parts. I heard Lachot and his band of crazies were a day behind us, if you can wait that long. He mostly hires riflemen, but he should have good supply for handguns. Better off buying in the great city, though, it''s only a day''s journey away."

    Krow stifled his sardonic response.

    A day''s journey with an empty gun?

    Lady, don''t you know that yers naturally attract trouble?

    Walk down a street and bump into an orphan running away from a trafficking ring; get on a horse and discover it was stolen from the royal stables; greet a mysterious woman and be hounded to death by her stalker suitors or guards; go on a trip and get involved in and dispute between two lords then be used of being a smuggler and suddenly the two lords are united in their desire to execute you.

    Okay, maybe not that bad.

    But still.

    Godforsaken Norge.

    The only reason Krow wasn''t already on a battle quest was that he''d been ignoring the prompts from various people.

    "Do you know a Fanthalber?" he asked instead.

    She scoffed and chuckled, waving him away as someone called her back to work. "Yeah, that''s them."

    Fanthalber was part of the ''band of crazies''?

    Krow scowled at the mass of spices arrayed around the za. If Lachot''s caravan didn''t have bullets, he''ll have to buy a bow or something simr.

    He wanted a rifle, really, as his secondary weapon. Apart from the general Sharpshooter ss abilities, gunman skills and archer skills had different skill trees. Leveling both was folly.

    But his chances of buying a rifle in the vige shops was smaller than the chances of a devil in heaven.

    "Looking for bema flowers?" A stallkeeper came to stand at Krow''s side, a neutral expression on his face.

    Oh, had he been ring at the man''s produce? He made an apologetic expression. "Bema?"

    The siren nodded. "My brother has a cask of the flowers in stock. Or do you want the berrybars directly?"

    Oh!

    Berrybars were the only food in draculkar cuisine that contained anything close to grains, and didn''t haverge hunks of protein. Draculkar preferred meat.

    All the draculkar he''d known carried berrybars, as a travel food. ording to Gojo, there were many recipes, but they weren''t for outsiders. He''d tried a piece once, and couldn''t get past the unexpected metallic aftertaste.

    It tasted differently for draculkar, ording to his friend.

    This was the chance to experience if that statement was actually true.

    "You made them?"

    The siren nodded, not even hesitating.

    Krow could not deny his curiosity. "If it''s good, I''ll buy some."

    The stallkeeper turned to the wagon his stall was leaning against, light catching against blue-tinged scales. "Oy, the berrybars!"

    "What?" came the bewildered answer from behind the wagon, "Someone actually asked?"

    The siren made a wordless sound, which was either assent or scoffing.

    Both.

    Krow grew a bit doubtful. Since when did sirens make draculkar food? Maybe he should wait to buy from vetted sellers?

    Another siren came around the stall, carrying a rectangr cask in his arms. His green eyes immediately set on Krow, bewildered. But then he grinned, red-tinged scales shing. "Want a sample?"

    Krow nodded.

    The cask was immediately opened, and the siren was offering Krow a finger-size berrybar, wrapped in paper. It looked like old-style candy actually, from those historical movies.

    Well, if he was poisoned, all the draculkar around would be baying for siren blood.

    The traders didn''t actually look that stupid, so he took the berrybar and bit.

    The berrybar texture had a crunch of nuts and a crunch of wafers, with a softness between the types of crunch that emitted the heavy fragrance of flowers and fruit. It was a little sweet and sour, a little savory, very nutty, with an indefinable something that tranted to his brain as: yum!

    Krow swallowed. "I''ll take everything you have, and the recipe."

    The two looked stunned, then the one with red-tinged scalesughed. "The recipe''s not for sale. But if you want more, our sister Favel is known in the east of Grandshield."

    The one with blue-tinged scales started unearthing casks from the wagon.

    Krow''s gaze was caught by the mark on his elbow.

    To most yers, it would have been innocuous, part of the scales that were strewn across the siren''s upper arm.

    Krow wasn''t most yers. Krow had, in another life, been an ''indentured contractor'' to a guild determined to get ahead on the backs of theirborers.

    It was a mark that freed ves gave to each other.

    Krow fought the sudden desire to touch where Scare''s mark had been, on the corbone right above his heart.

    He ripped his gaze away, only to meet the other siren''s eyes. The siren smiled charmingly. "Have you ever been there?"

    Fake.

    Did he catch Krow noticing the freed-mark on his brother?

    Sirens were the most beautiful race in the game, and also in Zushkenar. When it came to very, they were the most sought out as house servants.

    Abruptly, with a void cracking open in his chest, he remembered that draculkar were known to keep ves.

    This siren was evaluating him like he might be one of those scum from Findrakon, with a grin edged with wary hostility.

    Krow shoved every bit of emotion in him into a box and locked it with chains.

    He''d forgotten that particr quirk of the draculkar race.

    How could he forget?

    No. He wasn''t thinking about it now.

    Krow was fairly certain Norge only put in the systems of very to vor the worldbuilding of Rends, to create more conflict for the races, a better game experience for battlers and crafters alike. It wasn''t so pronounced in the game, like an afterthought.

    In Zushkenar, that pinch of ''vor'' became distressingly, gut-wrenchingly real.

    There werews and legalities, there were rebellions and histories, there was death and tears and blood. very existed, in a way that the transmigrated yers had never experienced before.

    Krow hadn''t thought about it being so present so early in the game. Didn''t that mean that the yers just hadn''t noticed the ve NPCs around them?

    He kept his voice steady, face neutrally curious. "Is that anywhere near Cerkanst?"

    Krow knew the town of Cerkanst was somewhere in the eastern part of the forest as well.

    The siren''s face held no recognition.

    That was a good thing, Krow decided. It meant the town didn''t have much trade or visitors. It would be easier to establish himself there without interference from other yers or significant NPCs, until the craft update.

    The siren shrugged, the piercing gaze changed to contemtion. "If this Cerkanst is near Beetle Lake, then possibly."

    "Oh." Extreme east then. Beetle Lake was south of Tvard, the vargvir capital. Cerkanst was far south of theke, a bit west, on the other side of the Grandshield Forest.

    Not near at all.

    But also not that far.

    "One drax thirty serpens a cask." The blue-scaled siren popped up at his brother''s elbow.

    There were five casks of crunchy nutty deliciousness, each likely enough for nearly two weeks of food.

    Krow eyed them sharply.

    [Favel''s Berrybars]

    [Made from a recipe created by Favel of thul Town for her husband Baayar. A recipe most effective to those of draculkar descent.]

    [Freshness: 98%]

    [Quality: S]

    [Degradation: 1% per week]

    That was pretty good, actually.

    Food started degrading faster at 60% Fresh, then started rotting at 25% Fresh, to be inedible at 0%, so it would be a long time before the berrybars went bad.

    He lifted his brow at the S-grade quality, then studied the two. "Your sister made this?"

    She had to be a yer-crafter.

    One roleying a master chef, or something simr.

    The game was calibrated so any item higher than A-grade quality could only be crafted by yers. Above A-grade, there was S, Epic, and Legendary.

    "One drax a cask," Krow offered. "No higher."

    "Agreed."

    Huh. They really must not have customers.

    Krow nodded and offered his arm. The siren with red-tinged scales blinked, then smiled, slightly more genuine than thest several he''d directed at Krow.

    They sped each other''s wrist to seal the deal. Krow did the same to his brother.

    "Do you know of any caravans heading down the mountain?"

    "Not this time of year," the siren refuted. "Every trade caravan''s heading to Velkenbragg. If you want to leave the mountain, better to head to the city first to hire armed escort. Several caravans encountered bandits at the foothills."

    "You might get lucky," his brother added, "And intercept an express mail coach heading to the lower reaches."

    He nodded.

    "Ah, wait, do you know where the other well is around here?" The blue-scaled siren jerked a thumb toward the edge of the grounds, where there was a line of people with buckets, casks and other containers. "The main one''s crowded. We need a few buckets of water, but can''t leave the stall for that long."

    Krow wasn''t eager to increase his local RP, but he also didn''t want to waste time. Now that he''d finished this vige''s Hidden quest, there really wasn''t a reason to stay apart from getting to Lvl 5.

    Once he acquired the bullets he needed, he should explore the areas around Gremut. Being a starting vige, there should be a good supply of monsters with low enough levels he could farm for XP without taking quests.

    "I can do that for you." Krow epted the quest prompt.

    He wouldn''t mind a few fetch quests.

    He wasn''t so contented when, after the caravan didn''t appear for hours and carefully curating the quest prompts so he wouldn''t identally take make Gremut his official hometown, all the quests he could take the whole day were fetch quests.

 Chapter 24 - The Last Beginner Quest (1)

    After replenishing his bullets, Krow took to the wilds rather than continue epting quests in Gremut, only taking harvest quests to increase his material inventory.

    It took two days of rabidly seeking out monster nests to gain the necessary HP to break through the beginner threshold.

    He had to dodge yers looking to form a party more than once.

    The offers tapered off once they realized what he was doing.

    ''You''re not taking quests? Are you an idiot?'' was themon thread.

    ''That mothmarmot kill was probably dumb luck.''

    ''What was the reward anyway? RP? Useless.''

    ''You''re being a scrub. I have friends already in a guild. Come with us and you won''t be fumbling around like you are now.''

    Krow ignored them and continued heading outside Gremut alone.

    He''d encountered more mothmarmots but just small packs, nothing like the Hidden quest. There were also the jumping foxpikas, the jasmine spiders, the batwing yaks. And the windrats. Windrat nests were everywhere.

    Everywhere.

    Krow was sure more than half the monsters he''d butchered these two days were windrats.

    [You have gained one (1) level to achieve Lvl 5!]

    [You will no longer be offered Beginner Quests.]

    [Congrattions! The general game Map has been unlocked with your ascension to Lvl 5!]

    [Congrattions! The Quest rewards sorting function has been unlocked with your ascension to Lvl 5!]

    [Congrattions! The Equipment Set function has been unlocked with your ascension to Lvl 5!]

    Krow smiled at thest. It was the Equipment Sets that gave half a chance for solo yers to keep up with general gamey.

    Unfortunately, the full potential of the Sets was only possible when yers gathered a sufficient amount of armor and essories plus the knowledge to synergize them, which only normally happened in the higher levels.

    The notifications burst into fireworks.

    A spinning wheel appeared within all the sparks and confetti. It stopped.

    [You have won one (1) Golden Giftbox from the Artifact category!]

    Eh, he wasn''t even the one who spun it?

    He opened the box.

    [You have acquired one (1) pair of Mainomai Stardew Earrings!]

    Krow studied the jewelry essory.

    [Mainomai Stardew Earrings]

    [Quality: C+] [Rare]

    [A pair of twilight ruby earrings created by the entric master jewelsmith Gedidhos Daryaran, in a forge fed by volcanoes and the howling seawinds, quenched in a pool watched over by mourning stars. Gives Mental rity +1 for every 10 MND, lessening the effects of external mental influence. Gives Madness +10, rendering wearer more susceptible to external mental influences.]

    Eh?

    The Mental rity buff was useful in caves, ruins, graveyards, etc against the emotion-based debuffs of ghosts and undead. Also, anywhere the undead roamed, there were likely more than a few trying to possess and mind-control the living.

    Mental rity was a good buff, and the name of the essory was promising, not to mention it was rated a C+ Rare, but¡­

    Madness +10??

    Who''d want to wear it?!

    The Madness debuff could be alleviated by Mental rity, but what gaming god would have 110 MND at the start of the game?

    Weeping skies, game makers, this reward is broken?

    Does nobody vet the starting rewards??

    The earrings had small purple-red stones set in fine gold, the design unobtrusive. He tossed them into the inventory with a ck face.

    At least give out useful rewards, Norge!

    No, this was no time to be ranting. He still had three quests unfinished on the quest docket. Thest two of his harvest quests, and a hunting quest.

    It was fine if he didn''t do them, but there were RP milestone rewards for sessive quest sess.

    Not to mention, that hunting quest he got at the tavern¡­

    He checked his bullets again. Unnecessary, as Lachot''s caravan hade by yesterday already. They''d been willing to part with a hundred-item crate each of regr and stun-round packs. With each pack containing 30 bullets, he had three thousand of each bullet.

    He''d also acquired several crates of Minor Paralyzing Mist Vials, Minor Monster Bait, and Monstrepel Sachets.

    In his inventoryy twenty sets of Common butcher knives, ten Common spike bays ¨C a Soldier subss weapon, ten Common shovels ¨C a Scout and Tracker ''weapon'', tens sets of grappling hooks, a collection of torches andmps, and a ton of rope.

    With the Paralyzing Mist, Monster Bait, and rope, he could make several different kinds of traps.

    That was how he had the courage to take quests at night while he was still under the rmended Lvl 10.

    But it had been night for a few hours now, which meant moonset was near.

    Certain monsters changed under the light of Enilhadrad. They were hardier and more vicious. But Krow was confident enough in his knowledge that he didn''t mind doing minor quests after nightfall.

    Nightfall was one thing.

    Moonset was a different matter.

    Moonset happened around midnight ¨C Enilhadrad, which rose slowly atte morning, started to set and a different breed of beings woke up ¨C after moonset, assassins, ghouls, all manner of illegal shenanigans are done.

    Dwarves and magmigants start their day-cycle.

    More relevantly, the shadow beastse out ¨C nightde vultures, fire-eyed furies, crystal anglers ¨C all monster types that attack unceasingly.

    These were party-level monsters.

    The first half of the night was still lively, the streets were still lit by moonlight, nightmarkets were open and taverns were full of raucous noise.

    But the second half of the night was eerie, silent and echoing.

    Walking through the market za, where the tents of travelers were erected for the night''s rest, Krow could hear himself breathe suddenly. Just a few hours earlier, this ce rang with music andughing children.

    "Hey!" A vargvir guard jogged toward him,mp held high. "Which group are you from?"

    "I''m headed to the mountain," Krow shaded his eyes from the glow of the swingingmp. "Moon-bramble can only be harvested at night."

    The guard scoffed, her eyes narrowed. She nodded to the setting moon, its crown still visible over the horizon. "It''s moonset."

    "I was dyed." He''de across a burrow of shellback molerats, and couldn''t resist harvesting their shells and teeth. "Don''t worry, I won''t move far from the vige."

    "I''ll be apanying you." She made a few hand signs at a shadow that seemed darker than others, before waving at him to go on.

    "That''s fine." Krow ignored the guard''s obvious mix of concern and suspicions, started walking toward an area marked in the map as ''Old Orchard'' where the quest said there were moon-brambles.

    The quests after this would rarely give so much data unless the yer dug for it, but that was a small price to pay for greater rewards and the unlocked map; semi-unlocked, really.

    The ''general map'' that said it was unlocked only gave the locations of the capital cities of each nation, no more. The yer still had to travel the map for it to be more detailed.

    The guard grew more suspicious as Krow took the small paths that moved higher and higher on the mountainside. But he was walking ahead of her and with no weapon in hand, so she still followed.

    He stopped. "We''re here."

    The Old Orchard was a mass of ancient gnarled rime-apple trees, a clearing that was half-under an overhang. He walked carefully through, spying some trees that still bore the blue and white apples. Even without the sound of footsteps, he knew the guard was following closely.

    Then he saw his objective immediately ¨C they shone pale light under the starry sky, illuminating the underside of the rime-apple trees for as far as the eye could see.

    The vargvir guard eximed in surprise. "How are there so many?"

    Eh. One quest asked for bramble stalks, the other for bramble roots, so Krow wasn''t going toin. He dropped down, butcher knife in hand, and started looking under the brambles.

    "What are you doing?"

    "You can''t just start pulling moon-brambles up, or they''ll harden their thorns against you. Well, they''ll do that anyway, but it''s easier to look for the older clusters, which have duller thorns. Not to mention they yield better quality."

    Krow used to be a forester; he''d dealt with moon-bramble before.

    Moon-bramble grew everywhere that moonlight touched and the materials were used extensively in both cooking and potions. Those scummy batards in Findrakon even farmed it.

    The older clusters were more potent ¨C they were distinct from the younger ones because of the dried out stalks that surrounded them.

    Younger clusters had healthy stalk collections, the older ones had stalks that died out over the years.

    The more dried stalks around the surviving ones, the better the bramble material ¨C not to mention, you can hack away at the dried stalks without worrying that the rest of them will retaliate.

    "I''ll be here a while, so you can go back if you want."

    The vargvir guard snorted, disappeared into the trees, the glow of themp fading with her. Krow didn''t know if that meant she was going back or if she was just being sneaky.

    He shrugged.

    He was going to spend hours hacking at tough stalks with a butcher knife, then digging up roots with a shovel. Who cared about watchers?

    The harvesting techniques weren''t a secret, just really tiring.

    Krow had to be careful not to disturb the younger clusters or he''d be avoiding their thorns in addition to the cluster he was harvesting.

    By the time he was done, the durability on the knife and shovel was low enough to need maintenance. The durability on his clothes and gloves were high enough that they didn''t need to be repaired.

    He stretched, bending his waist left and right.

    "Map."

    The world map appeared, instead of the vige one.

    "Locate me."

    A map of the Old Orchard spread across the frame.

    It was a fairlyrge orchard, at least a kilometer in full length, but rarely wider than a hundred meters. Thest quest-location was blinking in an unknown region in the north, further from the vige than rmended.

    Krow rolled his shoulders, did a few sets of calisthenics. The muscles that had strained with the harvest eased as he stretched.

    He strolled to a rime-apple tree, reached out to take one of the few avable fruits. The orchard was centuries old; that it still had trees that produced fruit was fantasy logic. He couldn''t outright think of a use for rime-apples except eating, and they weren''t exactly rare.

    Also, they were delicious. He crunched a second bite, then a third, until only the core was left. It was sweet and crisp, juicy, refreshingly colder than any just-picked fruit had a right to be, and a single fruit had lowered his Exhaustion debuff to Minor Exhaustion.

    Whoa. That was just as potent as a Low Revitalit.

    Were rime-apples always so powerful or was it the game? He looked around. Was it the age of the trees, the location? He considered, then tossed the apple core into his Inventory.

    He should get an apothecary to examine them,ter. Right now, he had a quest to finish. He walked northward, picking apples.

    A crunch sounded behind him. He paused, the apple in his hand still halfway to his mouth.

    "You''re still here?"

    "You''re further from the vige than safe." The guard crunched her own apple again.

    "No beast would breach the brambles." Krow only nced at her, and continued on his way.

    She grunted skeptically.

    Eh, bad luck. Krow was certain the reason she was still there was so he didn''t kite any of the shadow beasts deliberately or identally toward the vige and the caravans resting outside it

    Using monsters as distraction or in PK was still inmon use as viable parts of battle strategy.

    And shadow beasts, more than other daylight monsters, didn''t relent once someone was caught in their territory or range.

    He nced at the map that he still had out. There was a ravine to the northwest, just past the edge of the orchard. If he crossed that, he''d lose her maybe.

    He angled his steps subtly west.

    Krow was, in fact, going toward a shadow beast territory.

    How else could hisst quest be marked ''Rare''?

    He''d never heard of a Rare beginner quest before.

    He meandered through the glowing moon-brambles and rime-apple trees, picking the asional apple and pretending he wasn''t going anywhere.

    By the time he came to the edge of the ravine, the horizon had buried thest slivers of moonlight.

 Chapter 25 - The Last Beginner Quest (2)

    Krow stood on a ledge, the area around him only lighted by the gentle glow of moon-bramble behind him. Without the moon, they were already dimming.

    Too bad. Draculkar didn''t have perfect vision at night.

    Good thing he boughtmps and torches.

    Moonset was the line that split the two parts of the Zushkenari night. Enilhadrad in most parts of the Marfall continent rose around midday and set in the middle of the night.

    The first half of the night was still buoyant, the light from the great Sky-Mother brightening thends more than Earth''s smaller satellite.

    The problem, Krow mused from his perch, was the second half of the night.

    After Enilhadrad set, the sky was the domain of the stars and Orveterne.

    Zushkenar, in fact, had two moons.

    Enilhadrad rose and set regrly, and Orveterne didn''t set at all.

    Krow let his eyes wander the sky, this second night after a second twilight, searching for the elusive body that the sirens called the Mist Moon, the Hidden Daughter.

    There.

    His hands clenched briefly, ice with an electric crackle coursing down his spine ¨C a learned reaction, as he saw a pale white circle emerging from a cloudbank.

    Orveterne, known in the human part of Zushkenar as ''the Eye'', short for ''the Eye of Gods'', was smaller in size than Earth''s moon.

    Some people also called it the Bloodcaller, a warning. The monsters that came out after moonset were more aggressive, more difficult to kill, their aggro zones greater.

    Woe to travelers, because Orveterne would call a tide of blood to the unwary.

    yer theories put Orveterne to be Zushkenar''s actual satellite.

    It was dim, and only showed fully when the sky was clear and other heavenly bodies didn''t detract from its presence.

    The fact that it never set, simply hanging in the sky like an idental and forgotten smudge on a painter''s canvas, sparked something of a debate in the forums. Most of the popr theories believed it was artificial, and the next big upgrade would bring the Rends wars to space.

    If that was true, it was never implemented.

    And trying to survive wartorn Zushkenar gave little margin for dreaming of star-travel.

    Krow''s fingers tapped on his revolver holster as he stared at the pale herald of death that was unusually clearer in the sky and waited.

    The vargvir guard sighed from behind him. He heard a rustle of clothes against bark.

    He was still too close to the vige for her suspicion to fadepletely, but she''d rxed a lot from the level of caution she had hours earlier.

    He smiled.

    With a snap of a wrist, a grappling hook appeared in his hands, already hurtling upward and forward.

    Rope still running through his hands, he leaped off the cliff.

    "Hey!"

    His grin widened. From her tone, she didn''t have any items or skills that would allow her to follow him.

    The rope tautened. The branch of a stunted grandshield tree reaching fragilely over the ravine, the reason he chose the ledge, creaked and twisted.

    He hauled harder, already at the far point of the swing.

    It broke.

    The rope ckened in his hands.

    A heart-stopping momentter, he crashed into the shrubs on the other side of the ravine, rolled and bounced to his feet unharmed.

    Sess!

    Due to his minor rampage through the monster nests near Gremut, his Dexterity was now high enough for minor stunts!

    Krow waved at the bramble-light backed guard on the other side of the ravine and hid in the tree line. She cursed loudly but indistinctly and turned sharply around, leaving.

    He brought out the long golden Crystalwing Bone.

    The Ghostcaller subss afforded him three spirits to control, but he couldn''t find any Ghost Stones ¨C items that were made from monster bones to hold a facsimile of a spirit ¨C in the Gremut shops.

    He could only use the Crystalwing Bone he gained from the Armored Mothmarmot. The Bone should be processed to make it suitable for use by a Ghostcaller, but hah, the perks of having a Magic Aptitude of 11.

    The high aptitude allowed him to just brute-force the creation of the illusory spirit body.

    The spell for ghost stones was universal: "Appear."

    An illusory Armored Mothmarmot burst from the Crystalwing Bone, spreading wings to immediately leap into air. He watched as it started soaring in ever widening circles above him. The real thing''s wings were too delicate to hold the mothmarmot body like so.

    Krow smiled. He got lucky that his first ghost was a flying one.

    Hisst quest was for Ethereal Condorowl feathers.

    A hunting quest.

    ording to the bartender at the Crossed Dragon ¨C the only apparently ''respectable'' tavern in Gremut ¨C who had given him the quest, the condorowl only nested in the highest peaks of the highest mountains. Said barman was nearly brained by a crafter who overheard, because it wasn''t a job for amateur hunters.

    Krow epted because was curious what kind of quest was ''not amateur'' but readily given to a newbie yer. Of course, that was when he was informed that the condorowl only woke at moonset.

    At Lvl 5, he really shouldn''t be taking a hunt after moonset. The weakest monsters would be about the same difficulty as the Armored Mothmarmot. The average shadow beast needed multiple people to defeat, and the strongest were raid-level monsters.

    But then he checked the Quest Page and nearly choked in surprise.

    |:Pluck the Condorowl:|

    [Category: Rare (Beginner)]

    [Dhunancholku of n Menggei, proprietor of the Cross Dragon, has asked you to acquire three Ethereal Condorowl Tailfeathers.]

    [You will gain: +5 Reputation Points, +15 Experience Points, +1 Golden Drax, +(???)]

    Rare quests were not actually that rare.

    Rends was a transforming open world; there were side quests of varying rewards at every corner, bush, and stream.

    But this was a Rare beginner quest. Beginner quests were just chores, meant to get the yer acquainted with the virtual world and their virtual bodies, were only important strategically because of the Reputation Points.

    It wasn''t as easy to earn RP after the Beginner Quest Sequence was finished and the yer gained Lvl 5.

    The point was, if asked before he saw the above quest info, Krow would have said there were no Rare beginner quests.

    Maybe this was the effect of finishing the Hidden Quest?

    If so, it was something he earned; he wasn''t giving it up.

    Not to mention, acquiring unknown rewards in quests were like opening good presents ¨C they were always interesting. There were also RP milestones for how many sessive quests a yer finished sessfully.

    Krow wasn''t in a state for a fight on the level of the Armored Mothmarmot again. But knowledge was an advantage, and finishing a hunting quest didn''t always mean battle.

    The quest only asked for feathers, not a kill count.

    He was fine with sneaking the feathers. Good thing the questpletion ratings didn''t apply to beginner quests, or he''d have to fight to keep his quest rating average up.

    He decided he wasn''t finishing the quest tonight.

    This night, he was scouting for a nest.

    "Informative surveince," Krow quoted, sarcastically, "is the mark of a good hunter."

    Craftmaster Ortholian had rmended him to a friend for hunting tips, and to his embarrassment it had taken a week of lessons before he caught on that the craftmaster''s friend hunted people rather than monsters. For fun.

    He''d never taken the craftmaster''s rmendations at face value after that.

    Krow pinned the Map to his visuals, letting the frame hang in the air at the edge of his vision, but the only indication of the spirit scouting was that the unexplored areas around him had a lighter fog ¨C he could almost see through it.

    Almost.

    He could see the location of the condorowl nest, limned with the gold of an active quest. But with no indication if there were condorowls there or how many.

    He watched as that almost-vision of the Ghostcaller-explored areas made a full circle, indicating that the ghost hade to the end of its leash. A hundred-meter radius, not bad.

    He took out amp, and opened the top. Weak light spilled out of the ss sides and the open top. It was already burning, as it was when Krow bought it. Unlike the guard''s cheery orange light, this glowed a faint blue.

    Krow bought it after learning that condorowls hunted at moonset. He was lucky there was even one in the vige.

    It was called a wraithlight, and it only gave illumination to the owner. It was a suspicious item,monly reputed to be used by those up to no good, which was why the shop in the vige sold it to him only after he swore it was for hunting, and yet for a premium price of 510 drax.

    It was one of the smaller ones, the soft light only strong enough to reach a four-meter radius around themp. If Krow didn''t seriously need the wraithlight, he''d have called the woman out on tant banditry and left.

    Admittedly, if he didn''t have 135 RP with Gremut as a whole (from quests and decimating nearby monster nests), he''d probably have been kicked out the moment he said he was looking for wraith lights. Or thief-lights or ghost-lights as they''re more poprly known in certain circles.

    He pricked his finger, waited for the blood to well up and drop onto the glowstone, which was emitting wisps of smoke like sublimating dry ice.

    The light brightened.

    [Small Experimental Wraithlight Lamp has been blood-bound! You have 59:59 hours of illumination left.]

    Huh. The shopkeep must have made the item herself.

    How many enchanters were there in one draculkar vige?

    Closing themp back up and looping its leather handle around his wrist, Krow started moving through the trees.

    The light wasn''t as bright as sunlight, or even moonlight. It was enough for the natural sight of the draculkar race to keep Krow from stumbling on roots and underbrush even as he loped through the wood.

    Still, he got whipped unceasingly by thin branches as he scrambled as fast as he can toward the map-marked monster nest.

    "Why are the Dryads the race that gets full vision in darkness?" he grumbled. "Why not the Dwarvir, who actually live in caverns? Or draculkar. This draculkar could use full night vision."

    A nce at the Map told him that, as he moved, the areas semi-uncovered by the Ghostcaller spirit were once again slowly being taken over by the fog that marked unexplored terrain. The only marks left were several more monster nests, but they weren''t the quest objective.

    Too bad.

    Using Ghostcaller to open the map instead of walking all over would save him a lot of work.

    The shops in Gremut didn''t have Map Pieces for sale, unfortunately. So for now, his Map only showed the ces he''d explored personally.

    He was just grateful that Ghostcaller abilities added to the Target Marking of the Tracker subss meant that interesting locations would show up on his Map if ghost-explored, even if the ghost-scouted areas were temporary.

    The ghost-scouted monster nests wouldn''t show exactly the type of monster they held until Krow got there and scouted it properly, but it was probably more windrats, blegh.

    A sh on the Map had him stopping.

    What, there was a road?!

    There was a road so close and he''d been enduring a jog throughshing underbrush for a half hour??

    Gah.

    He was headed north, and the part of the road uncovered on the map¡­

    "What luck, the road''s headed that way too." He moved toward the paved road in the hope of no leafy branches being whipped into his face.

    He''d only been fifteen minutes on the road, when a dark shadow blotted the faint light of Orveterne.

    Abruptly, he froze, slowly tipped his head upward.

    The bird banked and passed overhead again. He dove into the tree line, attempted to snuff out themp before remembering it was a ghost light, and hoped he hadn''t been sensed.

    That was a condorowl.

    That was a condorowl?

    Its body alone was bigger than a house! Its beak was probably as tall as a man!

    No wonder the crafter said it was not an amateur quest.

    Friend, that was an understatement.

 Chapter 26 - [Bonus] The Last Beginner Quest (3)

    Another great shadow passed over Krow.

    He nced at the Map. Unfortunately, there was no enemy tracking on it. Not until he mastered the Scout subss to Second Wright and gained the skill that was rather dramatically called, ''Prophet of Four Directions''.

    The quest-rted monster nest was still some distance from his location. He might not get there in an hour, if the nest was in the peaks.

    But if they were hunting, surely the nest would be empty?

    As long as he got there before dawn, he could finish the quest sessfully.

    He kept to the edge of the road, near the tree line. A bird needed to have supernaturally strong vision to hunt at moonset. Krow really didn''t need to be seen, else his first death in the game would be tonight.

    Tsk. Why was the bird the one with night vision?

    Draculkar night vision didn''t work in full darkness without a light source of some kind. The light from moonset was already gone. The light from the stars and Orveterne was barely enough to keep from tripping over exposed roots. The arbor of trees kept most of that light from reaching the ground.

    The wraithlight was really a lucky find. They were more popr items inrge towns and cities.

    In the midst of darkness and the faint blue light of themp, a twist of bright ming color caught Krow''s eye. He stopped.

    Twisting tendrils of fire, coalescing into a zing rocket, the red and ck of burning bloody rage trailing flickers of sun-yellow.

    It was undoubtedly a Spell.

    Krow gaped.

    He''d seen the mage-ss yers and NPCs from Gremut use Spells, of course. But those were all low-level.

    It was barely four months since the Masers of War expansion was released.

    A Spellcaster with the overwhelmingly lucky Magic Aptitude of 12 had already found a Spell to match it?

    The ball of swirling me hurtled toward the flying shadow beast, impacted on a massive wing, then expanded.

    The world stilled for a long moment, then the me silently imploded on itself.

    The condorowl''s wing disappeared like it was never there, as did a good chuck of its nk. The monster''s corpse ¨C it was dead; nothing would have survived that ¨C spiraled downward, still caught in the updrafts, disappearing into the shadows between the mountain peaks.

    There was a reason the spell was called the Mouth of Hell.

    Krow recognized it.

    It was Gazzy''s only rangedbat Spell, after all. The reason people always looked at the vargvir yer, who preferred weapons to magic, quizzically.

    Krow always thought Gazzy specifically chose the Spell because of the long prep time ¨C there were several quests that gained the MoH Spell Scroll as loot. He never asked why his friend didn''t like using his magic skills, even after the transmigration. Gazzy never told.

    It wasn''t his business to pry.

    Krow got off the road, mbering up the hillside to get a better vantage point.

    Also to hide himself in the trees.

    Mouth of Hell was a powerful Spell, one of the most powerful in the game.

    Was it a good idea though?

    Using such a shy spell at moonset would ¨C

    Hoot-prekkk! Prekkk!

    Too close!

    His back pressed into the bark of a tree before he knew that he moved; eyes searched the sky, wide.

    He stowed the Crystalwing Bone in his Inventory, freeing his hands.

    He''d been present during a wyvern hunt just once. In the first ten minutes of the battle, two of the eight hunters were picked off by the low-flying wyvern before its wing was broken by a buster-sword wielding dwarvir and the fight took to the ground.

    Here, two condorowls circled above and a further shadow briefly outlined against the twinkling stream of the Star-Torrent to the east.

    Three condorowls, attracted by the fiery Spell and the death of one of their own.

    Shkav.

    He had to get out of here.

    By the shouts of multiple people below, they thought so too.

    Concern knit Krows brows together. He nced upward as he moved, despite the already thick tree cover. On the Map, the slowly revealing road curved around a hillock and doubled back on itself.

    He peered down.

    It wasn''t an encampment.

    It was a traveling caravan.

    Huh. They had guts to travel at moonset, even with a Spellcaster bearing an Aptitude 12 and a spell like that.

    ncing at the Map, he estimated they were nearly two hours from Gremut.

    Maybe being a small caravan ¨C just three wagons, drawn by four-oxen teams and with ten or so guards on horseback ¨C they thought they could pass unnoticed?

    From what he could see of their movements, they were using wraithlights too. The wagons had stopped, silent and lightless. The oxen then, would need to be specially trained to move in darkness, trusting only the drivers'' reins.

    Smugglers.

    Those were smuggler tricks.

    A small dark figure detached from the line of silent wagons, rushing toward the clump of people and horses further ahead on the road.

    Was everyone equipped with wraithlights? Expensive. The average wraithmp cost, in Zushkenar, maybe 70 to 120 drax if bought from the maker. That was already a year''s pay for a great range of artisans.

    Shouts brought him out of his musing.

    The shadow figure stopped, clearly taken aback, in the middle of the road. An open area.

    Krow''s eyes widened. He jerked forward, a futile movement.

    He couldn''t stop it.

    The flutter of feathers against the night wind, and shouts turned into screams.

    The condorowl pped its wings noisily as it lifted from the near-silent stoop, no longer needing the stealth with prey in its ws. Lights shed as Spells were primed and aimed.

    In vain. The heavy gusts caused by the massive wings buffeted everyone and everything. A wagon tipped over, oxen lowed in protest and horses neighed in high pitched rm. Krow rocked back at the pressure, bringing an arm up to protect his eyes.

    It was chaos down below.

    The condorowl lofted right past his little nook, and he saw it. The figure in the condorowl''s ws was too small. Smaller even than a Mafmet.

    A child.

    Krow caught his breath. Quickly deciding, he snapped his arm forward, grappler flying at the massive bird. It looped and held around the empty w.

    Se-!

    "Guh!" Being yanked into the air suddenly was not the rmended way to travel by condorowl express. He was just grateful that he''d tied themp around his wrist.

    He needed both hands to hold on.

    It was just like that freefall in the Vine Ladder Gardens, Krow reminded himself. The same pounding heart, the same whistling winds in his ears, the same certainty that ¨C gaaah, no it wasn''t!

    That freefall back then was almost meditative.

    This¡­this was out of his control!

    His legs iled, his arms strained, his breath stuttered. The condorowl may race the skies with silent grace, but the waves of wind it left in its wake reminded Krow of trying to surf for the first time and nearly drowning in the heavy tides.

    He took a short breath to fortify himself, then another. Oh, eighteen hells, just do it.

    His left hand loosened from its death grip on the rope, sliding down, snapped the pping length against his thigh. He breathed in relief as the rope wound around his leg, allowing his feet to actually find one of the knots he''d tied in the grappler line.

    The Rope Trickster skill hade in handy so many times in thest few days, to 45% skillmastery.

    He stabilized, at least no longer in danger of being ripped off the line, even if the winds were still tossing him around in the wake of the condorowl. He nced up. There was no way to climb.

    The child, a boy, he now saw, maybe ten or eleven years in age, was staring at him with wide eyes, teary and hopeful, pained. The condorowl''s swift capture surely hadn''t left the boy unscathed.

    Krow did his best to smile reassuringly. They were too far apart to converse over the whistling winds.

    What now?

    Wait for anding and distract the massive bird? It was the only n he had at the moment.

    Hm. Would a Minor Paralyzing Mist work on a monster sorge?

    His Scout activated: [Ethereal Condorowl Lvl 27]

    ¡­maybe if he broke a hundred vials while the monster obligingly stayed still to breathe in the fumes, there was a chance¡­

    In other words: no, it wouldn''t work.

    If he could use the ropes to drag down ¨C

    The bird banked, and the boy cried out in pain, the sound of it brief before it was whisked away by the currents. Krow lost his train of thought as the movement pulled the rope painfully against him. He gripped the rope tighter.

    A nce at the Map indicated they were headed for the nest, nearly there.

    Oh no.

    Were there chicks? There better not be giant chicks in that nest.

    He''d wondered why the condorowl flew so far when there were nearer trees and ledges it could safelynd and eat.

    Prek-kh-kah! Prekk-kh-kak!

    There was a chick in the nest.

    At least it was only one? It sounded like just one.

    That was when the condorowl opened its ws without warning.

    What.

    Shkav!

    Krow swung to intercept, at the same time snapping the line to shake free the grapple-hook. He had to twist mid-air, in near-improbable posture that probably ticked his Acrobat subss up a few more points to promotion.

    But the boy fell into his arms, screaming and iling.

    "Hush." Krow demanded. "It''s alright. Everything''s fine."

    Lie.

    It was not fine.

    He hid a wince at the broken arm on the boy. The too-young toorge green eyes showed an expression that Krow was intimately familiar with ¨C the numb terror of one who was certain he was going to die ¨C but he quieted.

    "Good boy." Krow whipped the grappler out, toward the mountain peak. "Don''t let go!"

    He missed.

    His heart skipped a beat.

    He twisted them in air, cing himself at the bottom. There was nothing else to do.

    It would be his first death, in this life''s Rends.

    His lips quirked, trembling.

    It looked like he was going to be eaten again.

    Thending jarred Krow''s bones, driving the air from his lungs. Feathers flew around them, disturbed by their bodies colliding with the nest. The boy muffled a cry of pain on Krow''s shoulder.

    The distant tinkling cracks was secondary.

    For a long moment, there was only agony. Then¡­

    Prekk-ah?

    Shkav.

    He wasn''t dead.

    With so much pain, surely he wasn''t dead yet.

    The powerful flush of relief gave him the strength to move. They were alive, but their lives weren''t saved yet.

    Unable to breath, dark spots at the corner of his eyes, Krow fumbled through the motion to ess the inventory. He pressed vials of Low Heal and Low Revitalit into the boy''s uninjured hand.

    He brought another Low Heal to his lips.

    The effect was instantaneous. He coughed once, the difference shocking, then whipped to his feet as fast as he could. "Drink, faster!"

    The boy nearly dropped the vials as Krow lifted him into still-aching arms and scrambled to the edge of the nest. The wraithlight flickered.

    Oh. That strange tinkling earlier was the sound of themp breaking, wasn''t it.

    Prek-kk-kah!

    The nest was looseyers of tree branches, topped by severalyers of feathers. The springiness of the construction saved their lives, but it was not conducive to moving quickly.

    And the nest''s location may yet damn them.

    Theyers of branches and feathers were arranged on a jut of stone, a craggy ledge. A steep drop threatened on three sides. Krow stared at the shadowy drop from behind an enclosure of branches, unable to see anything more than darkness. Then contemted the tree branches stacked to rise over their heads still.

    He looked back at the condorowl chick, clumsily stumbling through the feathers in their direction, between them and the mountain side of the ledge. It was plump and fluffy, wings still stubby and covered in soft down.

    [Ethereal Condorowl Chick Lvl 8]

    Haha.

    "Hey, have you ever seen such a cute giant baby bird?"

    The boy looked at him incredulously. Krow noted now, the boy''s ears were slightly pointed, and his green eyes swirled in a way that told Krow he had dryad ancestors. Now so close, he could see that the other''s skin was darker than his and patterned in beautiful spirals. A human-dryad hybrid?

    "You know, if it wasn''t bigger than me and looking at us with hungry eyes¡­" Krow sighed dramatically. The boy choked on augh. "What''s your name?"

    The boy breathed shallowly, apparentlyughter was still painful, but at least his eyes had some life in them now and weren''t just zed over like before. "Seinalt."

    "Sein, then? I''m Krow. We''re getting out of this, Sein. We just need to get higher for a bit."

    "I¡­I can''t climb," the boy confessed, tearing up. "M-my arm''s still¡­"

    It looked better, but still crooked in a way that it shouldn''t be. That was definitely more than one break.

    Krow was about to reluctantly refuse, as healers rmended at least twelve hours between doses or risk poisoning. He stopped. Oh right. This was Rends, not Zushkenar. There was no need to make sure the first dose worked through the body first.

    He wordlessly gave five more Low Heals to the kid.

    Prekk-kk-kah! Kh-kak?

    Krow and Sein exchanged nces. The older quickly boosted the boy up the walls of the nest, ascending after him hurriedly. He nced back and cursed. They weren''t going anywhere with this. "Get up higher, try and move that way, and find a path."

    He still had the grapple. He pulled at the rope, only to feel it snag.

    He tugged again.

    Prekk-kah?

    The massive chick tilted its head, eye pointed directly at Krow. A chill skittered down his spine. Under one of its feet, the grapple-hook snagged.

    The movement of the rope had told it where Krow was.

    Weeping graves.

 Chapter 27 - The Last Beginner Quest (4)

    Climbing up the walls of the nest didn''t bring them significantly further from therge and hungry chick stumbling toward them.

    Theck of coordination¡­was the thing newly hatched?

    So close now, Krow could see, even through the dimming illumination of the broken wraithlight, that the feathers on the chick were pale cream, and there was a darker patch on its head ¨C a crest of some sort.

    Its eyes reflected oddly in the wraithlight, giving it a dark sheen without pupil or iris. That hungry shine against the fluffy body, it made Krow feel like he was in one of those horror films where the film-makers liked to make viewers afraid of things like children''s toys or house nts.

    The rope, still in Krow''s hands, pressed into his flesh as it tangled around the condorowl''s w. The chick stumbled again, fluffy stubby wings pping for bnce.

    Prekk-kah?

    It was too cute, but the more logical parts of Krow''s mind were already fixating on the rope in his hands, the long and delicate throat of the chick, and the proximity that would allow him to get the upper hand with just. One. Single. Jump.

    Hended on the chick''s back, between the iling wings.

    Prekk-kah?! Kah! Prekk-kh-gghk!

    A call for help? That couldn''t happen.

    Krow looped the rope around the chick''s neck and pulled taut.

    Kah!!

    Krow slid off the soft-feathered back, letting his weight bear down on the rope even as the chick strained to get free. The dull crack of breaking bone and the sudden ck in the line told him he was sessful.

    The frantic motions of the chick stilled.

    His heart pounded, eyes moving immediately to scour on the sky. The stars in the clear sky shone unhindered.

    He stood, a little shaky, using the condorowl carcass as support.

    The moment he touched the downy feathers, the notifications popped.

    [You''ve gained two (2) Golden Crest Feather from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained three (3) serpens from a monster!]

    Oh yes, that reminded him. Tailfeathers. The quest.

    The condorowl chick body didn''t disintegrate. It looked like he''d really been promoted to the next level.

    The monster carcasses degraded slower after Lvl 5, and he had a Butcher subss.

    Unfortunately it would take too long. He didn''t think he had the time. Krow would like to avoid the condorowl parents as much as possible.

    "Krow?" The whisper came like a shout.

    Krow swallowed, his throat dry. He took out a few Low Heals to drink. The various aches in his body lessened. "Everything''s fine. Are you alright?"

    "I''m okay."

    "I need a few feathers. Keep your eyes on the sky, will you?" He still didn''t know how good condorowl hearing might be. The game gave a lot of authorities to yers for protecting their territories. Did it give simr leeway to monsters?

    Krow didn''t want to assume, so he circled the nest, tossing loose feathers into his Inventory, barely looking at the items.

    [Ethereal Condorowl Flight Feather]

    [Quality: D][Umon]

    [Ethereal Condorowl Tail Feather]

    [Quality: D+][Umon]

    [Ethereal Condorowl Down]

    [Quality: E+][Rare]

    He paused. He''d heard people talking, before. The Quality ratings of an item in Rends were mostly given for usability in Enchanting or Alchemy and other mage-crafting professions, and less for the physical condition of the object.

    A quality rating of E meant the item had little use for mage-crafters but it was also in good condition as far as the item goes. A quality rating of F meant the condition of the item was still serviceable but approaching unusable; it was mostly meant for broken or unrepaired things.

    And then the Rarity of the item must be taken into ount. For instance, an ancient broken item graded F+ Epic can sell for tens of thousands of drax still.

    The grade of E+ Rare was notable, because it usually was the designation for quality luxury goods. They were low-grade mage-craft ormon artisanal goods, but they were excellent materials for beauty orfort items.

    They sold well.

    Krow looked around. The nest was full of the feather fluff. A nce at the starry sky, he started picking feathers faster.

    He''d nearly made a full circle of therge nest when he saw something that made him blink in slight shock.

    [Ethereal Condorowl Egg]

    [Quality: B][Rare]

    [Element: Light]

    He stifled the urge tough in triumph.

    A grade B Rare item, with elemental Light. Even as the Master Leatherworker he''d been in Zushkenar, he''d onlye across such excellent materials a few times.

    His glee was short-lived.

    Hooot, came a sound on the wind.

    He stiffened ¨C a motion at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Sein had also straightened up from where he was crouched.

    Hoot-prekk!

    It was distant, but unmistakable.

    "Krow?"

    "We''re leaving now." He hefted the meter-high Egg into his Inventory and mbered his way to Sein''s side.

    "I found slug pearls!" Sein gave him a handful of rough rocks the size of fingerbones, enthusiastic even as his eyes strayed periodically to the open skies.

    What.

    There was a small pile of simr stones near the boy, as well as a neat pile of feathers.

    Krow gave a briefugh. Sein hadn''t been idle.

    "I told you to watch the skies." He admonished the boy half-heartedly.

    "I can do two things at the same time," Sein protested, with a massive grin.

    Krow huffed and scooped the stones into his inventory. He bundled the feathers with a dry vine plucked from one of the nest''s branches.

    [Bundle of Feathers] was ced in a separate inventory slot from Krow''s haul.

    The boy''s eyes lit up when he saw the items disappear into thin air. "I''d love to have an expanded storage item, but uncle says I have to earn it."

    "There are ces you get acquire one without buying," Krow absently said as he boosted the boy over a branch and to the other side of the nest wall.

    Sein swung on a branch and then dropped to the ledge. "Really? I''ll trade you the information for half the slug pearls."

    "That information is mine to use, brat. Can you even hold a weapon yet?" Krow declined yfully. "Also, you think I''m going to trust the eyes of a ten-year old? Even if ¨C"

    "I''m twelve!"

    "Even if you have dryad eyes," continued Krow while ignoring the interruption. "Those ''slug pearls'' could be rocks for all I know."

    They weren''t.

    He''d already checked the Inventory ¨C thirty six of the forty-eight that the boy gathered were indeedbeled slug pearls. The rest were river stones.

    As expected of a child from a smuggler caravan, Sein had a good eye for tradable goods.

    Slug pearls were ugly things when unpolished, the result of various animals eating certain species of snails whole, then being unable to digest the nacre. Depending on the species of animal, a slug pearl could be studded with different kinds of undigested refuse.

    In Amvard spotted bearcats, which lived near copper mines, for example, the slug pearls were in shades of yellow and pink to red and orange, with flecks of copper. In the silver-crested lizards that lived in the eastern edge of the Qormantine desert, the slug pearls were studded with the special iridescent desert moonstone that the Mafmet use in their machinery.

    The rarest slug pearls were called Ocean Horns ¨C from a type of spiky conch eaten by the cloudray. Cloudrays were a flying mount that looked like a manta ray; they were generally seen wild in the coasts bounding the Silver Sea.

    Ocean Horns were the conch shellspletely made out of nacre and an unknown fiber from something in the Cloudrays'' diet. They washed up on beaches from time to time. Archaeologists decided that the people who used to inhabit Mer City used them as signs of achievement.

    Or they wouldter, as the Mer City Gate hadn''t been discovered yet. Krow had no idea who did it ¨C one of the guilds maybe. There were no merpeople, but the city architecture was studded with statues of mermaids and mermen.

    It was a gamer theory that merpeople used to exist.

    That wasn''t Krow''s area of expertise though.

    He nced at his Inventory again.

    As for the river stones ¨C they were gastroliths, probably. Krow read somewhere that some species of birds ate rocks to aid their digestion. He supposed that in the game, the ethereal condorowl was one of them.

    An insignificant piece of trivia brought to life, which proved the depth of worldbuilding Norge and his team poured into Rends.

    Slug pearl or river stone though, they were both condorowl excrement. Krow took a moment to regret that he didn''t buy Healer''s Wash potions; those were basically alchemical disinfectants.

    Hoot-prekk!

    That was closer than before.

    "Krow¡­" Sein huddled closer as they looked for paths down the mountain peak.

    The area was open. Too open. Trees were sparse and scraggly, most of the jutting rocks had been ground down by years of wind and erosion, there was little cover.

    "Can you see the timberline?" Krow''s wraithlight had dimmed, he had just enough light to see about two meters clearly in the dark. He had to trust the kid''s dryad eyes to see further. "Any cover?"

    Sein shook his head.

    Hoot-prekk! Hoot-kh-prekk!

    The silence that answered that urgent-sounding call only made Krow and Sein scrabble down the mountain faster.

    "I see it!" Sein hissed. He was peering downward, tugging Krow''s sleeve in sudden excitement.

    Krow stared at the massive shadow that silentlynded on a rock ledge above them, his only warning the barely-heard whisper of wind against feathers.. "Kid, so do I."

 Chapter 28 - The Last Beginner Quest (5)

    Both sides stared at each other.

    The condorowl tilted its head at them.

    [Ethereal Condorowl Lvl 27]

    It was the same bird, right?

    Hoot-prekk?

    Krow and Sein barely breathed at the tension.

    The condorowl called again, the urgency in its tone now evident.

    Krow leaned close, quietly spoke. "How far is the timberline?"

    "Maybe¡­half a tower?"

    That was five storeys, in draculkar terms. Around thirty-five meters.

    Between them and those covering trees, was open mountainside.

    So close, yet so far.

    He let out an aggrieved puff of air. The bartender at the Crossed Dragon was a rotten bastard. Who gave this quest to a Lvl 4?

    Krow had no doubt the condorowl would attack the moment they ran for it.

    He nced at the boy beside him. "I don''t suppose you have any good movement spells?"

    "Uncle''s teaching me Stormglide Steps, b-but we just started."

    Stormglide, not bad. It had short flight capabilities and could only be upgraded once after mastery but its upgraded counterpart Thunderstorm Stride wasn''t something to sneer at, especially for closebat. At mastery, it was sonic-level speed and the ability to walk on air in short bursts of motion.

    A lot of yers preferred it over some of the movement spells that could be upgraded more than once. In fact, the Stormglide Guildn''s only requirement for entry was mastery of one or both movement spells and the ability to use them in battle.

    It was a rank-six movement spell, notmon at all. Smugglers these days were hardcore, if they were teaching their kids Stormglide.

    Shkav. Knowing those things didn''t help them at the moment.

    "What''s down this direction, then?"

    "A¡­a cliff? There are treetops, but I can''t see¡­maybe a quarter-tower down."

    Of course. A cliff.

    It took considerable restraint for Krow to hold in his groan.

    Preeeaaaakk!

    The condorowl''s denial was over. The screech, filled with grieving rage, echoed in the still air between the mountain peaks.

    Krow crouched, urgently whispered. "Get on my back!"

    Sein obeyed with gratifying speed. Krow snapped another grapple-hook into his hand and bounded forward.

    The wraithlight showed him the cliff-edge with less than a second to react. Krow slid them off the cliff and hammered the grapple hook into stone and earth like a climbing pick just as the heavy winds of the condorowl''s wing attack sted rock and dust off the mountainside.

    A half-secondte, and they''d have been blown off the mountain with their organs crushed by hurricane-force winds.

    Sein coughed, pressed his face into Krow''s nape to avoid the dust and debris. At least the kid wore long sleeves, or the debris would scrape his skin raw.

    "Shkav," gritted Krow, as the grapple-hook scraped down the cliffside without finding purchase. The gloves he''d just bought days ago shredded from the friction, the durability already beaten down by days of hunting and the night''s adventure.

    He really should buy a movement spell as soon as possible. This was the third time in a half-night he''d thrown himself off a height great enough to kill him.

    Impressive, a part of him mocked, when did he be such a cool daredevil?

    The hook snagged, and both Krow and Sein scrabbled for purchase from the sudden jolt. The kid''s grip faltered on his shoulders, started to slip. Krow reached back to grab him before they both unbnced.

    Hoot-prekkk-preeaaakkk!

    Krow''s stomach dropped at that reverberation of mad fury, whirled by the small hurricane around them, tinged with a thin sorrowful note.

    Sein''s arms tightened around his neck, trembling.

    That was not the sound of an animal that would stop before their carcasses were shreds of flesh in the breeze.

    The condorowl was in air already, keen eyes searching, wings creating winds that thrashed them against the rocky cliff.

    Krow rappelled them down to the treetops as fast as he could.

    They''d beshed by branches in this monster-birthed wind, but cover was more important.

    He breathed a sigh of relief when they dropped under the arbor. Leafy twigs shed at his face, stinging. The branches creaked from the winds. He carefully let them down on a middle branch; it was thicker than his torso.

    "Oh," Sein peered downward, as Krow handed him potions. "We''re still on the cliff. This tree is growing out of¡­"

    Krow nced up from where he was watching the rope rash on his hands slowly heal. The stinging on his face disappeared. "What?"

    Sein was staring, wide-eyed, stunned fear, into the branches below Krow.

    Krow''s senses, already alert from adrenaline, sped into overdrive. Only then, he realized that the low rumbling was not the sound of rocks falling but a deep continuing growl.

    Dread suffused him. Half-reluctantly, he leaned around the massive trunk.

    [Uron Snow Liger Lvl 21]

    The pale striped head, from crown to beard, was as tall as Sein.

    It lounged on a lower,rger branch in the rxed manner of a predator that knew it had no peer. Golden eyes shed with delicate grass-green eyed them with an air of a considering king, tailnguidly swaying free behind it. All this despite the great winds buffeting the tree.

    Krow slowly eased both Sein and himself back behind the tree trunk, out of sight of the great feline.

    There was a short silence, before he sighed. "What luck we have tonight, my young friend. Escaped the hydra just to fall into the maelstrom''s maw, it seems."

    "Is it my luck, or yours?" Sein''s reply trembled slightly, but he was trying for the same joking tone.

    A pleased grin curled around Krow''s lips. The kid was a brave one.

    "The bad luck is yours and the good luck is mine," Krow decided with a firm nod, teasing the other. "My task for the night was the feathers only."

    "Wouldn''t that mean you owe me?" the boy shot back in a whisper. "You''d never have found the nest so soon without me."

    "The escape was my luck," contended Krow lightly, "In fact, it''s you who owes me for the slug pearls. And the feathers too."

    The tree shook, sudden, tilted sharply with the weight of winds avable to a giant raging bird of prey.

    Preaaakkk!

    They grabbed onto smaller branches, bncing.

    Sein inhaled. "This tree isn''t on solid ground, but rooted into the cliff¡­"

    The cliff that was of crumbling rock and loose earth, Krow understood. They could fall. A tree this size¡­the chance of escaping the area of impact was low.

    Grrrgh¡­.gggrhgrooooaaaar!

    The deep sound bounced off cliff and rock, echoing.

    It was unmistakably a challenge.

    Krow and Sein exchanged nces.

    Two grapple-hooks appeared in Krow''s hands. Fortunately, the cliff was a steep incline and not a steep drop. He wound the lines around his arms and torso, hoping it would help with the strain.

    They waited.

    The snow liger leaped from its branch, eyes now hunting sharp, more agile than its bulk suggested. Branch to branch, it was like a butterfly flitting, touching lightly before lofting into the next leap.

    Air element, decided Krow.

    The snow ligers of the U Mountains were preferred mounts of the northern draculkar, who had lots of high-altitude cier-based racing games. The southern draculkar who popted the draculkar capital of Velkenbragg were more restrained.

    The condorowl screeched. It had seen the liger. Both monsters fixated on the other, one for mad fury, the other for mad sport.

    Krow really wanted to see who won. He did have that vid-eye in his Inventory. But not to the extent of betting his life and the life of a child.

    Sein mbered onto Krow''s back without urging.

    They dropped from the branch.

    Krow realized the tree wasrge because it spread, not because it was tall. Vertical cover was limited.

    "How far to the ground?"

    "Uh. Half a tower. But it''s all trees there."

    "Good. Brace yourself."

    Krow used the grapple-hooks as climbing picks, slowing down their sliding descent. Dust and rock shards flew around them. Ugh, he really needed to get a mask.

    "Krow!"

    He ducked a massive branch that mmed into the rock beside them, leapt away to the side as it started to slide down.

    "Thanks."

    "That''s my luck now, right?"

    Krow coughed augh. "We agreed all the good luck was mine."

    "You made a statement," the kid insisted. "I didn''t agree."

    "You didn''t disagree either."

    "There was no contract made. Silence means nothing."

    "That''s what los¡ª"

    A pour of debris from above interrupted Krow. He leaped sideways to avoid the bulk of the smallndslide. After a long moment of wing for purchase with the hooks, he peered upwards, disgruntled.

    Weeping graves, were they trying to bring down the whole mountain?

    The exchange of hostilities above was getting serious.

    Not that it was always, with the condorowl in a fury. Now, from the sound of it, the snow liger was alsomitted to a death match rather than seeing it as an amusing challenge.

    Lucky for him and Sein, that they were not the current targets. Still, he''d be happier if they weren''t one breeze away from bing coteral damage.

    Take what you get, he supposed.

    Luck was definitelyughing at them tonight.

    They both knew it.

    It was no wonder that, once they gained the solid ground at the foot of the cliff they ran away into the trees as fast and silently as they could.

    That was when Krow''s wraithlight flickered and died.

 Chapter 29 - The Last Beginner Quest (6 Of 6)

    With Sein leading because he was the only one who could see clearly and Krow relegated to pointing out directions from his Map, it took over an hour to reach the road and a simr amount of time to reach the vige.

    Krow plied them both liberally with potions, not wanting to rest too long in one ce during moonset.

    By the time they reached Gremut, the eastern sky was brightening with the teal and salmon colors of early dawn.

    "I thought we''d meet them on the road."

    Sein''s disappointment was palpable at theck of his people.

    "We moved in a different direction from where we left the caravan," Krow assured him. "Undoubtedly, they''re looking for you from there. Still, this is the only road here. You can be certain they''ll be in Gremut today or tomorrow."

    Sein nodded, his head swiveling around in worry even as his eyes drooped. Even in the game, it seemed mage-craft potions like Low Revitalit were not proof against umted exhaustion.

    "You!"

    Krow whirled, then immediately recognized the familiar guard bearing down on them. He smiled sheepishly.

    "What do you have to say for yourself." The guard stopped before them and hissed.

    "Everything''s fine," Krow held his hands up in catory manner, "nothing happened to your caravan or the vige?"

    Her face contorted, her re intensifying. She visibly choked back the words she was going to yell upon glimpsing Sein behind him.

    "I am also fine," Krow continued, cheerfully ignoring the incandescent re. "I even made a friend!"

    It was then that Krow noticed the lightly armored person trailing quietly behind the guard, amused smile on his face. Standing in the middle of the road. Huh, a stealth build?

    The symbol on his rerebraces was the same as the one on the woman''s belt. Another guard of the same caravan, likely. Or if they were hired, of the same mercpany or guild.

    "You found a child," the guard forcibly calmed herself, keeping her ire to a frown. "At moonset?"

    "I don''t suppose a caravan just came in?" Krow shrugged. "Three wagons, four-ox team each."

    Both guards gave him incredulous stares. He returned their looks patiently. Yes, Krow knew that everyone said ''no one'' traveled at moonset but it''s not like reality conformed to the suppositions of ''everyone''.

    "Smugglers?!" The guard hissed again, her blood pressure obviously rising.

    "People always think that," Sein managed to pout while yawning. "They should be flying Garvan n colors."

    The guards groaned at that.

    "Bleeding goblin caravans," the woman sighed.

    Krow tilted his head. Oh. Not smugglers.

    One of the Trade ns.

    Considering the reputation of some of the n caravans, the term ''smuggler'' wasn''t far off actually.

    He''d never heard of the Garvan n before though.

    "They''re not here then." Krow assumed, or their reaction would be different. "Is your caravan leaving soon?"

    The man spoke for the first time, his voice unexpectedly low and quiet. "Not today."

    "If any of the Garvan ne, would you tell them Sein''s with Krow at the Duressk Tower visiting-house?"

    The woman waved him off. "It''s the end of my shift, but Rum here will make sure of it."

    The man nodded. "As my dear Galia says."

    The thwack of a gauntlet against the padding of Rum''s stomach sounded, loud in the early morning quiet. "Not your ''dear''."

    Sein and Krow nced at each other.

    "Thank you!" they chorused, and made motions to leave.

    "I better get the kid to sleep." Krow nodded at them in farewell, already heading for the stairs. "It''s been a long night."

    "It shows!" Rum called at their retreating backs, and another ''thwack'' sounded.

    Their torn and dusty clothing was indeed noticeable, and a problem because all of Krow''s extra clothes were still at Janggi''s. They had to wake up a grumpy proprietor who tossed them tunics and trousers from the visiting-house lost and found.

    "They look clean enough," Krow dubiously examined the clothes.

    "I know Minor Repulse," Sein wrinkled his nose. "It''ll work on parasites."

    Krow dropped the mass of linen on the table and watched the kid carefully spell the clothing. Thankfully, nothing jumped out.

    "It seems clean?" Sein shrugged at him.

    "It''s just until we get the clothes mended," Krow sighed. As a gamer, he didn''t need to worry about parasites.

    "Why don''t you have extra clothes?" Sein gathered the smaller-sized clothes and headed to the bathroom.

    "I''m having them mended." Technically true. He was having his starter clothing enchanted by Janggi. The rest of the clothes were still being adjusted andced with Durability enchants.

    Krow sat down at the small table to wait for his turn.

    He should still buy proper armor when he got to the nearest town, where he could ess the yer market and auction houses. But clothing that didn''t look like armor was important too. Armor and essories can tell a lot about a person''s ying style and battle tactics.

    Not to mention, a yer that wasn''t wearing armor was assumed by other yers to be poor.

    That would lessen the battle challenges for sure, once he left the starter vige.

    Sein was asleep when he got out of the shower. Krow took their clothes to a lower level of the tower, where a couple operated a washing and mending service.

    Unfortunately, that included his cloak.

    It was still dawn, the time when the tavern would be kicking out drunks who fell asleep on the premises. They wouldn''t close until the ce was cleared. Krow wanted to get the condorowl quest submitted now, as the tavern didn''t open again untilte afternoon.

    He stowed his revolver the Inventory, in the hopes that he wouldn''t be osted.

    Even then, there were several people who called out differing opinions on his clothes.

    ''Hey, idiot, did you exchange your starting gear for those rags?''

    ''Where''d you get them, I don''t wanna look like a noob all the time.''

    Krow reached the Crossed Dragon as the barman, his name was Dhunancholku if Krow remembered correctly, shoved two people out the door with a dead expression that said he was done with life. The draculkar he shooed off draped himself across the broad shoulders of a drunkenly swaying dwarvir, both giggling like they heard the greatest joke in the world.

    The barman, already turning to enter, noticed Krow nearing and narrowed his eyes.

    Krow ignored the re and bounded up the stoop.

    "No," the barman precluded the conversation. "I do not have whoever family member you are here to find."

    "If my great-aunt was here, you''d have more problems than giggly drunks," Krow stated, unperturbed at the blunt greeting. If Great-Aunt Am were here, the barman would be regretting they didn''t serve coffee, or whatever the Rends alternative was¡­kava, maybe? "But that''s not why I''m here. I have the feathers you wanted."

    The barman''s apathetic irritation turned into irritated evaluation, he looked Krow up and down. His expression finally gained a faint air of recognition. "You''re the gunman."

    "I am."

    The barman pushed the doors open wider, a silent invitation. "Let''s talk."

    The man continued cleaning up, lifting benches onto the tables in preparation for mopping the floors. Krow shrugged and grabbed a bench of his own.

    A few minutes of work, then the draculkar barman broke the silence.

    "You''re saying," he grunted, tapping a bench against the stone floor to dislodge debris. "You got condorowl tailfeathers on you?"

    "You did say you''d pay well."

    "Mm. I did."

    After the night Krow had, he''d better. The condorowl was bad enough. Who knew snow ligers could be seen this far south?

    They boosted thest bench onto a table and the barman tilted his head at Krow, eyes considering. He moved to the bar counter. "Let''s see what you have then."

    Krow had eight condorowl tailfeathers, in fact. There had to be two adult birds in that nest, or the tailfeathers would have been degraded more.

    He fanned six on the wooden counter, the long curling russet-gold feathers tinted with bright yellow from the tavern lights.

    Dhunancholku took one, examined it carefully. "I have to admit, I was expecting to have to hire a battlemaster from one of the fighter guilds to get me these feathers. But you picked them off the forest floor? These aren''t fresh."

    "If you wanted fresh, you should have specified fresh. I feel the phrase ''picked them up off the floor'' is severely underestimating the danger of even getting that close to a nest. You didn''t mention it was hatching season."

    The older draculkar inclined his head. "Everyone knows that. I didn''t think you''d be fool enough to try."

    "Forgive me if I''m not up to date on the seasonal practices of obscure monster birds."

    "They say you''re a traveler. Not from the Amvard ns, are you?"

    "No."

    "Parents kept to the border, then?"

    "This is the second time you''ve mentioned my family. Does it matter?"

    "I suppose it doesn''t." Dhunancholku nodded. "These are good enough."

    He gathered up the feathers and took them into the back room.

    Krow slumped on a barstool with a sigh. He hadn''t done any of the hometown quests that every starter vige offered. He supposed that was what the questioning was about.

    Gojo did imply that family lineages were important in draculkar society, and Krow hadn''t announced any when he introduced himself. But that was a Zushkenar thing, surely?

    If going by thest time, Krow wouldn''t have this ''lineage'' until he did the hometown quests. StrawmanScare''s given background was actually a cadet line from a family of knights that was killed off in some historical battle.

    vor text, nothing more; another way to immerse the character into the virtual gameworld.

    He didn''t learn untilter that the yer backgrounds were actually embedded into Zushkenari society and history after the Quake. Thinking about it, it would be odd if a hundred million people with no history appeared suddenly in Zushkenar.

    A pouch of coin thudded onto the smooth wood of the counter. It was followed by arger sack, slightly darker in color.

    Krow looked up.

    Dhunancholku pushed the pouch and sack toward him. "Impressive work, even so. Are you up for another job?"

    [You''ve finished the quest |:Pluck a Condorowl:| and have gained +5 Reputation Points, +15 Experience Points, +1 Golden Drax, + 50 Silver Serpens, +1 Fortify Spell Scroll!]

    Whoa, seriously, a Spell?

    Fortify Spells were passive. They just boosted what the yer already had. It wouldn''t be higher than rank-one or rank two, but it was still a spell.

    He hoped it was a useful one.

    And the barman had increased his coin reward by fifty serpens, too. Gosh, was the guy feeling guilty? No way, right? Krow decided to just ept it as hazard pay.

    "Thanks," heughed. "But another quest like that and my bones might not leave these mountains. Besides, I''m leaving soon."

    The barman snorted. "At least you''ll fall and rot on draculkarnd. What with the rumors these days, there mighte a time when even that would be a privilege."

    Whoo, another battle quest prompt.

    "I n to live longer than the next job, actually, but thanks for the confidence."

    Dhunancholku gave him an irritated look. "It''s a delivery to Nyurajke Town. Since you''re leaving anyway."

    Nyurajke? Where was that? "I haven''t heard of the ce."

    At that statement, the older draculkar looked at him like he was crazy. "It''s three hours east of here, below mehorn Pass. You have to pass it to get to Velkenbragg."

    "Oh, that ce." Krow invented. "Sure, I''ll take the delivery."

    It only mattered, really, that the town was close by and it had a sanctioned market.

    He ced the locked chest the barman gave him in his inventory and left the bar. The moment he was out of sight, he opened the Spell Scroll.

    [Greater Focus]

    [Fortify] [Passive][2 Rank]

    [Gives +11 MND]

    A passive MND spell!

    Those existed?!

    He thought only essories gave MND.

    He equipped it immediately, boosting his MND to a more respectable 19 and his MP to 259.

    Gah, most of the Spells he wanted were rank-three and above. Most rank-three spells needed a minimum of 200MP to activate.

    That meant he needed more MND or he''d only be able to get off one Spell in a battle.

    ''One Spell, One Battle'' was only an amazing tagline if the battle was ended by that one spell.

    Otherwise, it was just mockery of your irrefutablemeness.

    Sure, sooner orter he''d have to exchange it for an essory since he''d need the Spell Slot, but this was a great and satisfying surprise.

    He hummed a short song as he wandered back to the visiting-house. It was too early. Most of the shops he needed to visit before he left weren''t open yet.

    "Krow! How surprising it is to see you awake at this hour."

    He turned a full half-rotation to face the speaker at his back. Then grinned. "Good morning!"

    **

    Chapter End

    **

    Notes:

    Rerebrace ¨C the armor on the upper arm.

 Chapter 30 - Goodbye To Gremut (1)

    "How suprising that you are out when there are so few people around." Krow greeted.

    Velinel smirked.

    Hah.

    He''d been trying to figure out what Spell the girl used to ''see'' her surroundings. It sounded useful.

    It wasn''t echolocation, she assured him. Or anything to do with sound.

    There was a vampiric-type restoration Spell that allowed users to ''see'' the energy of people and enchanted objects in the surroundings, in preparation for leeching that energy for their use. The more people and magic around, the more powerful the seeing.

    Krow was wrong again, apparently. Velinel agreed to tell him if he guessed nearly correctly.

    He sighed. "Is it a restoration Spell, at least?"

    "It could be called that, I suppose." Then her smirk widened just a bit. "It restored part of my sight after all."

    "Is it even a Spell at all?"

    "How could it not be a Spell," she teased.

    Krow chuckled. Obviously there was no persuading her even for clues. He changed the subject to matters more fruitful. "Do you know when the apothecary opens?"

    "Not for another hour." Velinel smiled smugly at her victory for the day. "But the owners will be awake now. They''ll be in their garden. If the need is severe, I suppose I can introduce you."

    "You know them well?"

    "Melungge is one of mother''s cousins," Velinel grabbed his sleeve and skipped toward one of the further towers. "She and her husband Hulde adventured with my parents when they were young."

    "Wait, Melungge the herbalist is married to Hulde the apothecary?" It really was a small vige.

    "You didn''t know?"

    "They both sent me for moon-bramble materials yesterday." Melungge for moon-bramble root and Hulde for the stalks.

    Velinel stopped dead in the middle of the road. "On second thought, maybe you should wait untilter, so you can catch them alone. Far from each other."

    She smiled weakly at the suspicious look he sent her.

    "They''ve been quarrelling," she exined, "on which part of the moon-bramble is more effective in extending the efficacy of a Burncure Ointment. It''s gotten slightly vicious on both sides."

    Oh. What was there to say to that?

    "Don''t worry. I''m sure they''re both enjoying the arguments immensely. It''s just the rest of us¡­well, it''s been years." Velinel had a pained look on her face. "Currently, the Burncures from this vige are the most effective in the kingdom."

    Krow stifled augh that he was sure was inappropriate in this instance. "I''m sure they won''t begrudge a delivery of reasons they can continue their battle indefinitely."

    The quests required fifty of each item.

    A jar of Burncure Ointment, the standard size, only needed fifty grams of moon-bramble, though the recipe he knew used pickled moon-bramble buds. The average root was 200 to 300 grams in weight and the stalks were about 150 grams ¨C fifty pieces of each was enough for many experiments.

    "If you insist¡­" She started up the steps to the residential levels of the tower more sedately, nced at him curiously. "You are leaving today?"

    "I am," he nodded, falling into step beside her.

    She smiled. "At least you saw the Old Orchard before you left."

    "Oh, have I stumbled across one of the best-best secrets of this mysterious vige? Finally?"

    "You might just have. A secret only seen at night!"

    "No wonder it was a brilliant sight." And the rime-apples. There had to be a secret under the secret, for the apples to be able to cure exhaustion so effectively.

    Those secrets were for others to uncover, though.

    But nothing said he couldn''t try.

    He grinned. "Now that I''ve seen that secret, am I eligible to know the other best-best secrets of Gremut?"

    "Oh no, no. The mysteries of this vige have to be earned!" She closed her hand into a dramatic fist, raised it. "In blood and tears!"

    "Just as well," Krow sighed with disappointment that was just as dramatic. "It would be impolite to uncover everything. What mysteries would be left to others?"

    Velinelughed. "Whatever you say."

    "Young Velinel, is this your young man?" a severe voice interrupted their mirth.

    Her what now?

    Before he could speak, another voice intruded, louder and rmed. "She has a what?!"

    Velinel stifled her giggles. "I have no young man, aunt, uncle. Krow said he had a delivery for you." She leaned close to Krow, and whispered quickly. "Signal if you need help, I''ll create a distraction."

    "A delivery?" Melungge peered suspiciously at Krow''s face over the balcony railings that were just bursting with nt life.

    "Ah!" her countenance cleared. "You have my roots!"

    "What roots?" the second voice demanded. "What roots are you talking about?"

    Melungge smiled smugly. "Nothing you need to worry about, dear."

    The apothecary Hulde stumbled out from behind a trellis thick with vines.

    "Oh, Velinel, dear niece, it''s good that you havee." His gaze turned to Krow. "Boy, it''s you! You weren''t pricked too much by those brambles, I hope? Come in,e in, both of you."

    Velinel tugged Krow into the garden.

    Melungge narrowed her eyes at her husband. "I hope you have no designs on my roots, old man."

    "What roots? What do I care about roots? A gue on your roots! I had him get me bramble stalks!"

    Velinel pointed him silently at an open but shaded preparation table in a room with wide doors that opened to the elevated balcony garden. The room was hung with herbs, bottles and jars on the shelves and cabs that half-filled the space.

    An ingredient prep room. Krow nodded. They left the arguing couple to follow. Velinel pulled out two empty ingredient drawers from the table.

    Krow emptied his inventory slots of moon-bramble ingredients, and Velinel sorted them.

    "What? What is this?" Hulde cut off his argument to pick up one of the stalks his niece had been arranging side by side in the drawer. Then he narrowed his eyes on the rest of the drawer. "This is all old-growth!"

    "Er, yes?" Krow paused in his arranging the roots. Did he not want the old growth stalks?

    "What? Someone got you old-growth?" Melungge grabbed the root from Krow''s hand. She beamed at him after a few seconds of examination, then turned a smug smile to her husband. "This one is the same. Perfectly harvested."

    "You''ve done Herbalist work before." Hulde stared at Krow usingly.

    "Yes, but not anything advanced." The Forestry subss he had in Zushkenar only included ess to apprentice-level Herbalist skills.

    "Let me see your harvesting knife!" the man demanded.

    "Hulde!" admonished his wife. She turned to Krow. "You do have a harvester''s knife, of course."

    Krow felt he should back away slowly from the feral expectation in their eyes. "Ah¡­no?"

    "No?! What did you use on this then?"

    Krow slowly reached into his Inventory for the knife. He had a bad feeling. True enough, the moment the knife was in his hand, he saw Velinel duck to cover and stifle her chortle.

    Melungge pressed fingers to her lips, sighed. "Oh, my dear¡­"

    Hulde pointed a trembling finger at him. "That is a fillet knife!"

    He made it sound like Krow had walked into a temple and used the sacred fire to roast potatoes.

    What exactly was wrong with a fillet knife? The springy flexibility and the narrow thinness of the de was actually useful when wanting precision in dealing with the delicate parts of a nt. He knew better than to say that though.

    Melungge bumped her husband away, interrupting the outraged and offended rant on the tip of his tongue. She took the knife from Krow, twirled it between her fingers expertly.

    Krow blinked, nced at Velinel, who shrugged knowingly.

    "You must have used a knife a lot, if you could harvest old growth moon-bramble with this," the herbalist concluded.

    Well, yes, in another life. Also, in this iteration of Rends, his Knife Handling skill from the Butcher subss was currently mastered at 100%.

    He gained Second Apprentice for his Butcher subss yesterday night, in fact, due to knife skills retained from another life.

    At 95% realism, the system assist was almostpletely turned off.

    Skill mastery at that point was semi-dependent on the realworld skills of the yer.

    The 5% left was enough to cover some of the disconnect between the skills Krow knew and the reality that his body (virtual or otherwise) was weaker than he was used to, wasn''t yet able to handle some of the things his head insisted he could do.

    Hopefully, in another realtime week, the virtual body and this virtual Rends would stop feeling strange. The weird itch under his skin would go away and he would stop feeling like everything around him was just a little bit off.

    "I''ve decided," Melungge pped the knife down on the table, faced Krow determinedly. "You''re going to be my apprentice."

    Eh?

    Hulde red at her. "What are you talking about, you old weed-smelling witch? He came to my shop multiple times. Obviously he''s mine!"

    Eh?!

    "Obviously I offered first. You dawdled, you withered slug, like you always do! Maybe now you''d remember to buy more vials when they run out, instead of procrastinating until someone reducing three mixtures on the furnace has to run out to the shops in a panic because there are. No. Vials. In. The. House." She smiled very politely at her husband, then turned to beam at Krow. "Right, young man? You wouldn''t do that, would you?"

    Krow opened his mouth, closed it. Then decided not to get into it. "I''d rather just be paid, really."

    "Yes, of course!" Hulde grabbed his shoulder, not-so-subtly steering him away from Melungge. He reached into his belt, dropped a bunch of silver coins into Krow''s hand. "The quality is better than I expected from a kid like you, so here''s a few serpens more!"

    [You''ve finished the quest |:The Apothecary''s Bramble Stalks:| and have gained +2 Reputation Points, +7 Experience Points, +8 Silver Serpens!]

    "Yes," agreed Melungge. She added her own coins into the pile, ring at her husband challengingly. "Good work must be rewarded."

    [You''ve finished the quest |:The Herbalist''s Bramble Roots:| and have gained +2 Reputation Points, +7 Experience Points, +8 Silver Serpens!]

    Haha. They''d both doubled the reward money.

    "Don''t bribe him, witch, my apprentice won''t be swayed by the sight of gold."

    "Hah. Very different from you, then, you wrinkled spendthrift. I''m certainly not the one who emptied the kitchen coin jar this week."

    Krow nced at Velinel, who had very quietly backed away to the door. It''s not very nice to leave a friend to sharks, he yelled at her mentally. Especially if the sharks are rted to you!

    She might have caught something from his expression because she nodded determinedly, then gasped, very loudly. Then pointed at the window. "Oh look," she cried in tones of very fake shock. "Is that a jadehorn feathertailed butterfly?!"

    "WHERE?!" was the simultaneous reaction from the two older draculkar.

    "It''s flying away," Velinelmented, very unconvincingly. "Past the garden!"

    The couple stampeded past them, to lean over the garden rail.

    Velinel calmly took Krow''s arm. They bounded down the steps of the tower.

    "Thank you," Krow called back to the couple. "I''m ttered, but I have to leave!"

    Velinelughed as they gained the path, running all out.

    Krow joined herughter, sprinting to get out of sight of the tower. "That was your distraction?"

    "It worked, didn''t it?"

    He raised a brow at her, smiling. "Jadehorn Feathertails aren''t generally seen at this altitude."

    "No," she cheerfully agreed. "But every once in a while, a few get blown up here when there''s a swarm near. It happens often enough that it''s believable to see one. A lucky omen."

    "Lucky for us, then."

    They slowed down as they approached the main za.

    "They had an argument,st year," Velinel borated. "About whether the butterfly''s wingdust could be used to increase the vor of spices for draculkar. It was inconclusive because Jadehorn Feathertails don''te up here often. They don''t like leaving arguments unsettled."

    Krow''s smile widened. "I''m really happy you''re the first person I saw here."

    "I''m happy to know you as well! You''re like the oddly energetic older brother I never knew could be so fun."

    "Yes yes, I''m entirely here for your entertainment."

    "Too bad you''re leaving, really," she said wistfully.

    Krow felt a little touched at the sentiment.

    "I want to see what face Father would make when Uncle stomps over to the workshop and demands that he hand over ''my young man'' to be his apprentice."

    The warm feelings went away immediately. He rolled his eyes.

    "You should be more worried about what tower he''d lock you up in, if your uncle really did that."

    She paused. "Oh, right."

    He contemted seriously, her sightless eyes. "It''s a Halo, isn''t it."

    "Definitely." The answer was immediate.

    Their eyes met.

    Theughter of young people rang through the nearly empty za, vigorous and alive.

 Chapter 31 - Goodbye To Gremut (2 Of 2)

    Krow and Velinel said their goodbyes quietly, sharing grilled skewers from a market stall set up by a vige hunter.

    Windrat meat, marinated to tenderness and heavily spiced, was delicious.

    Thinking of the different meats in his Inventory, Krow asked after the spice mix.

    The hunter,ughing and ttered, told them it was ordinary spices and didn''t hold back on his opinion of different monster meats and appropriate sauces.

    Apparently the bigger the monster, the more parts were tossed out as inedible. But with the right spices and prep, many of the cuts that people toss out can be as appetizing.

    Hm, could the Butcher subss also separate those ''hunter cuts''?

    Probably not in Rends.

    Krow wandered the market after that enlightening breakfast, Velinel pointing out some spices that he knew from previous lives but had a new education in what tasted good to draculkar.

    Peppercorns, cloves, dried seaweed kes, half a dozen different salts, several powdered metals, another half dozen types of hot chillies, plus ten different kinds of spice mixes and sauces that could still be blended with other stuff to make new vors.

    They parted afterwards, Velinel having chores and Krow seeing that the vige shops were starting to open for business.

    He watched her wave and skip away, his first friend in this fake-Zushkenar.

    It was a bit sad to part ways so soon, he mused as he took the steps to the shopping levels.

    Abruptly, he wondered if the AI behind her character would keep this few days of data or just delete their interactions after a certain period of no contact; and Krow would be forgotten in Gremut.

    That was a bit depressing, actually.

    But even Reputation degraded after a while as a part of the game mechanics.

    Come to think of it, how much yer data did RSI store and retain? The game user contracts stated a definite respect of personal privacy but were the interactions with the numerous Rends AIs considered private or public data?

    Every yer essentially went through virtual life in Rends with a video recorder and biomedical monitors attached at all times, their brainwaves, heart-rates, and other physical and mental responses to virtual stimuli stored in some databank.

    The social media privacyws honed over thest half-century of the age of connectivity were intricate andplex.

    Biomedical data was legally private, but he''d been a corporate wage-zombie long enough to know how much leeway there could be between the lines of rule andw.

    That was even more depressing.

    How did he get on this line of thought again?

    Krow shook his head and entered the travel shop.

    It was technically a general merchandise store, with sacks of dried grains and legumes next to leather bags next to weatherproof cloaks next to pots and pans, everything that a person needed when nning on an extended camping trip.

    There were several items he''d learned, from transmigrator gossip in Zushkenar, were inessible after leaving a starting vige. One of those was the Starseeker Traveler Pack ¨C or, basically anything with the name Starseeker on it.

    He only remembered after he saw one of the packs in the shop.

    So he made arge order with the proprietor, who likely believed he was crazy by now.

    He''de to collect.

    Two hundred-item crates of Starseeker Traveler Coats, again two crates of Starseeker Traveler Boots, ten crates of Starseeker Extended Travel Kits, and of course two crates of the traveler packs.

    The Starseeker Travel Kits, he bought more of because it was the only way to get a decent toothbrush in Zushkenar. Each kit also contained a Starseeker Pied Pipe-Whistle for calling animals that could be tamed as mounts; an item that could be acquired nowhere else in Rends or Zushkenar.

    The entire order swallowed nearly ten thousand drax but Krow didn''t mind. He''d gain the money back a thousand times over once he leveled his Enchanting ss high enough.

    Cheerfully paying, he also replenished his supply of the surprisingly useful grapple-hooks and bought several coils of rope taller and wider than a man.

    Janggi was just unlocking her doors when he bounded up to the shop level. She only arched brows at him. "There exists such a thing as too punctual."

    Krow deted. The clothes weren''t done yet? "I''lle backter, if you want."

    She looked offended. "Did you think tying Remend and Allclean enchants with Durability was difficult? Though I struggle to understand why you''d want them on such poor materials."

    Krow grinned. "Maybe I''m sentimental?"

    "Don''t be absurd," the tailor stated crisply, tossing a nce at him, then her eyes widened as she got a better glimpse of his clothes. "What in the name of the Divinities are you wearing and why are you wearing it?"

    He looked down at himself, pulled at the knee-length tunic. He wore a thin but soft pair of baggy trousers with it, and leather-soled canvas slippers on his feet.

    He didn''t think they looked that bad?

    They were actuallyfortable.

    "Condorowl encounter," he partly answered. He pulledst night''s gloves out of a pocket, showing her the shredded palm and finger area. "The gloves were a lost cause, even with the Durability enchants."

    She took them, shaking her head.

    "Condorowls. At least you didn''t wake them after moonset or you''d have gained the full brunt of their attention." She saw something in his face, because her back straightened rigidly. She shook the gloves at him, disbelieving. "You actually went out after moonset?"

    "I wasn''t nning on approaching the thingsst night," he insisted, at the lecturing tilt of her brows. He''d really been nning to just scout the nests. The n was to sneak into them tonight.

    She could sense no lie in his words, so she just let out a scolding hum and muttered, "Save me from reckless youngsters. Be grateful your only casualties were the gloves."

    The gloves, the ropes, and more grapple-hooks than Krow expected, really.

    "You have no idea how grateful," he sighed.

    She nodded, tossed the torn gloves onto the counter. "I don''t have any material that will hold up to greater Enchantment, not if we want the gloves thin and flexible enough to allow the range of sensation and movement you specified."

    "That''s fine. A few more of the same type will do for now."

    When Krow discussed the kind of gloves he wanted, Janggi was the one to suggest modifying [gue Doctor''s Gloves], which were made of the intestines of various monsters. They already had waterproofing and an enchant supporting the natural resistance of the intestines against acids and venoms.

    She added bone armoring to certain areas of the back and anchored the added Durability-Remend-Allclean enchantbination there. The new glove created was named [gue Doctor''s Gauntlets].

    Withst night as a test, it looked like it had a weakness against physical damage.

    Krow would find better gloves for hunting sooner orter. He couldn''t deny that the Gauntlets were a great addition to a Butcher''s gear.

    "I must speak to you about the boots you brought." Janggi ushered him to the back room. "Fit the boots onest time, if you would."

    Krow obediently exchanged the borrowed slippers he was wearing for one of the two pairs of Starseeker Traveler Boots he''d taken to Janggi once he discovered them.

    "Comfortable still?"

    Krow nodded.

    "Remend isn''t usually advised for footwear, as I told you before, especially workwear. The enchant uses the item material to fix damage. These boots already have Weatherproofing and Durability ¨C standard travel-item enchantments. Travel boots, for dragons'' sake. Even if you just like the¡­design, just a few days of knowing you, I can already tell these boots will not be worn in a life of leisure."

    Krow nodded again. Over time, the Remend enchant weakened the material of the item, so it necessitated addition of extra material to specific parts of the enchanted object.

    Janggi''s problem was that she didn''t have the material used to create the Starseeker items, but Krow still insisted on the Remend.

    Needless to say, she was slightly irritated.

    There would be no calls for apprenticeship from this tailor enchanter, that''s for certain.

    "Have you heard of starweave?" Krow asked, out of the blue. There were a few mentions of recipes to make starweave cloth on the old Rends crafter forums for years.

    "An old myth," Janggi started idly folding Krow''s clothes into a Starseeker Travel Pack, also brought to her to be enchanted. "If such a cloth existed, its creation has been lost to time, along with pterano leather, Arieskar woolcloth, and dragonscale armor."

    Krow made a note to find out what those were, specifically.

    A whole recipe for the ancient secret potion that made ordinary cloth into starweave cloth waspleted some weeks after the craft upgrade, in hisst life, by one of the old craftmasters.

    Right now, people only held partial recipes.

    Since a starweave potion recipe could be recreated whole from numerous partial mentions in various ces as part of various quests, why can''t the creation of other useful ancient materials be revived in the same way?

    He sighed. Would he have time to flit around the map looking for hidden ancient recipes and forgotten enchanting materials?

    Janggi shoved a coat into his hands. "There is enough clothing here that you can afford to bin those¡­things you''re wearing. I must change the disy near the east window; it is too exposed to the sunlight."

    The door to the front room closed behind her.

    Krow smiled down at the coat he held. The [Starseeker Traveler Coat], made of the ''lost'' starweave cloth ¨C the same cloth used in the starting gear clothing, the [Starfall Shirt] and [Starfall Trousers].

    An advantage given exclusively to new yers, even if most didn''t know right now.

    To hide something like this solely in the starting viges, Norge and his game developer team were optimistic assholes, weren''t they.

    He quickly changed, putting on his now-enchanted starting gear, the Starseeker boots and coat, and a new pair of gauntlets.

    The coat was long enough that he didn''t need a cloak to hide his revolver. Not to mention, who wore a cloak with a longcoat?

    "I''m heading to Nyurajke today," Krow stated to Janggi as he walked to the counter and paid, d in new clothes, Travel Pack already strapped to his back.

    Another thousand drax lost. Whoa, enchantment was so expensive.

    The sight of much gold shelled out just for clothes was a great motivating experience for leveling his crafter ss.

    One day, he''d gouge out people''s wallets like this too.

    "Thank you, for putting up with my requests. It''s been a great experience, almost seeing a master at work."

    He''d pestered her with more than a few questions over thest few days, really, even if she didn''t allow him to see her process.

    Janggiughed a bit, her expression softening. "You''ve given me much to think about. We are even, I believe."

    "Don''t miss me and my inspiring self too much."

    "Out."

    Krowughed and slid out the door with a wave, causing the chimes to sound beautifully.

    He went directly to the mending shop, got his and Sein''s clothes back, and dropped off the borrowed clothes with instructions to return to the visiting-house proprietor.

    Dhunancholke the barman said Nyurajke was three hours east. Krow assumed that meant by caravan, which was slower than a person on foot.

    By himself, Krow expected a two-hour journey.

    It was approaching midmorning, which meant there would be caravans on the road, so lower chances of banditry.

    The amount of armed people traveling on the road didn''t meanplete safety from attack, though.

    He remembered, as a swordsbearer, having no quests after leaving his starting vige and not invited to a guild, there were a lot of bandits in the game.

    Take a turn in the road, what do you find? Bandits blocking the road. Go into the woods to piss, bandits. Join a traveling group for safety in numbers, bandits. Get hired as part of a caravan''s protection on a journey, bandit gang. Explore the unknown forest, bandit camp. Enter a city tavern to drink away your woes, bandit king.

    It was a wonder that people in Rends still went anywhere without being robbed naked.

    "Are you Krow?"

    The softly voiced question brought him out of his internal griping.

    There was a young woman in front of his visiting-house door. And a mountain of a man looming behind her, full beard braided into a thick tail that ended at the center of his sternum.

    No starting gear, or armor, or weapons. Not yers.

    Their eyes were covered by headgear, a hat for the man, a veil for the young woman. But what skin showed was a rich mahogany dark.

    "¡­Garvan n?"

    The girl smiled sharply. "Well met, s Krow, traveler. We are here for Seinalt."

    Less than a quarter-hourter, Krow sat on a padded floormat inside one of the Garvan n covered wagons, sipping sweet hot tea, with several tes of sweetmeats on the low table before him, and watching the stone and crystal towers of the vige of Gremut grow further away.

    He was still slightly confused how he got there, but didn''t really care all that much.

    The man sitting across him put down his teacup, barely a clink sounding.

    "So," the beard-braided man sighed, his gentle voice a stark contrast to his broad muscled frame. Inside the caravan, he''d removed his hat to show green eyes swirling like a gxy. "You are the person who ims to have saved my nephew."

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Note:

    Please don''t copy and post on other sites.

    . If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 32 - The Goblin Caravan (1)

    "Having spoken to no one yet, I can assure you those ims are only rumor." Krow sipped his spice tea, outwardly unbothered by the seeming usation.

    Inwardly, he was both curious and irritated. He didn''t nearly die several times in one night just to defend whatever ''im'' the man wanted to discuss. Also, what had they heard that they didn''t just thank him and move on?

    He''d prefer they just thanked him and moved on, really.

    But not before they reached the town.

    The caravans were actually going at a good clip. He was in the center wagon, and he was close enough to the team following that he could see they were red-eared oxen.

    Too small to be the actual monster though. Maybe a strain bred withmon cattle?

    Krow wondered at their hurry. They didn''t even stop to rest in Gremut.

    Well. None of his business.

    The stories of Trade ns said they had very direct conflict resolution models if you offended them.

    Currently, he was surrounded.

    Heh.

    "Seinalt ims you both faced a great white tiger and lived to tell the tale." The man took a nut pastry from the selection on the table. "Impressive, if true."

    Krow picked up a candied plum, mirroring the man''s action, if only to be polite.

    "Seinalt is remarkably proficient with the truth. We came across a snow liger ¨C well-fed, since it didn''t immediately pounce on us. We waited until something else distracted it, and then ran away."

    They bit into their respective treats.

    The candied plum was sweet and sour, juicy inside with an outer crystallineyer. Krow dipped it into the small bowl of turquoise salt on his side of the table, nodded in contentment when he bit again. Better.

    "The distraction being the condorowl bent on tearing the both of you limb from limb." There was an air of quotation in the statement.

    Exactly how dramatic did Sein make that story, and how did he convey it in its entirety when he just woke up less than fifteen minutes ago?

    ''We were fortunate to be able to leave the nest. In the process, the condorowl hatchling died."

    "Enraging the parent, yes. Rage enough to go against a snow liger in pursuit of your lives."

    Krow waited for the man to continue.

    He didn''t. He just stared at Krow for one very long moment.

    Krow sipped tea.

    The man sighed. "We found the site of the monster battle. It was considerable, I admit." He tossed thest of the pastry into his mouth, chewed slowly. "They injured each other enough to retreat. A draw, I believe."

    A nce at Krow. "That was also when we found your trail, and proceeded to follow."

    Krow found it hard to believe they just left after. He was sure that if he went back, there would be no sign of the monsters.

    "I congratte you on the good haul." Krow thought it was impressive that the words came out without revealing the envy he felt.

    Of course he was envious! Who wouldn''t be?!

    There were two valuable monsters above Lvl 20 just sitting there weakened by battle and ripe for the picking! What smart tradesman surrounded by aplement of strong fighters wouldn''t take advantage?

    The man nodded briefly at that, a small smile flitting across his face.

    Whoa, it must really have been a good haul.

    Krow knew snow liger materials were rare in the south.

    Too bad, he mused, quietly fantasizing about the Rare items he could make from the snow liger bones and hide. Every part of the animal could be sold; he was less sure about the condorowl.

    Wait.

    Wait, he could have just tossed the dead hatchling into his Inventory and butchered it when they were safe! Gah, why didn''t he do that?!

    Krow med the momentary stupidity on the bewildering rush of being alive when he expected to be dead.

    He should really be used to that at this point.

    The next words the man spoke shocked him out of his silentmentations.

    "You actually had two people trailing you for thest half hour."

    Hah?

    They what? Krow sat still for a moment, grappling for something to say. "¡­Sein was really disappointed he saw none of your caravan."

    The uncle waved a hand. "He was being watched over."

    "And they didn''t know if showing themselves would provoke a violent reaction from me." Krow calmly added. Draculkar, he tried not to think, were known ve-owners.

    The bone beads in the man''s hair clinked as he inclined his head. "I''m very grateful that he is returned to us."

    "I''m grateful for the ride. I nned to walk to Nyurajke."

    If the man wanted to continue his probing, he didn''t get the chance. Sein barged through the curtain separating their cozy sitting area from other sections of therge travel-wagon.

    "They do not believe I have profited from this venture!" He plopped himself down beside Krow and stuffed a fruit tart into his mouth, chewing huffily.

    Krow smirked. "Do you have a container?"

    The kid obviously came to get his proof.

    Sein beamed. "I have a box under my bed! Einel won it from a farmer who didn''t know how to repair itst week. She said she didn''t mind if I borrowed it."

    A mage-crafted box, maybe?

    Sein grabbed a second tart, tugged at Krow''s sleeve with his free hand, standing.

    "I''m having an audience with your uncle." Because that''s what it felt like. An audience with someone exuding the presence of a crushing mountain.

    "I already told them everything important!"

    "It''s also important to have multiple sources of information," Krow said lightly, "Or there''ll be someone implying we fought off a predatory cat five timesrger than ourselves and won."

    Sein reddened a bit, but straightened his spine and rallied. "In a confrontation where the odds are so imbnced in the enemy''s favor, to live is to win! To live without massive injury is to win gloriously!"

    "To be able to philosophize about it afterward is to win twice," Krow added sarcastically.

    Sein snickered, unrepentant. "A victory even more magnificent!"

    Shameless kid. Krowughed.

    A deep chuckle joined their merriment.

    "I see my nephew will pester us to death if he cannot disy his treasures." The uncle nodded. "There is time to talkter."

    Krow unfolded his frame from the cushion. "I still do not know your name, trader?"

    "Uncle is Harnalt," Sein interjected impatiently. "You can call him Harn,"

    Krow definitely couldn''t. He only had the time to nod politely at the Uncle, before he was dragged to an inner room.

    Half a dozen pairs of eyes converged upon their entry. There were three children chattering around a low table, sittingfortably on padded mats, and three other older members of the caravan lounging around the cushioned tforms attached to the side of the wagon wall.

    "This is Krow," Sein announced to the room. "I''m going to get the box."

    Then he dove through a smaller curtained doorway, and left Krow alone in a room of women and children.

    This was, Krow mused as he considered the formation of the armed riders on horseback, the most protected ce in the caravan.

    He definitely wasn''t supposed to be here.

    He smiled at no one in particr, bowed from where he stood, and then turned his eyes silently to a tapestry hung just inside the curtained doorway.

    An abstract greyscale work, chaotic.

    And yet there was something about it thatpelled Krow to study it for itself, rather than just being polite.

    A few seconds, and he picked up the faint green and red threads almost hidden in the tapestry. He leaned back. The chaotic patches of grey, ck, white suddenly became a monster ¨C a snake-type, from the suggestion of coils in the swirling shadows, a hint of horror.

    Krow knew that horror well, now.

    It couldn''t leave his dreams.

    He forcibly focused on another part of the tapestry.

    There was a small figure, shades of grey with slivers of ck to indicate a shape, indistinct but recognizably female, holding a spear in one hand, the staff of a cleric in the other.

    From the cracked patches used to depict her leaning on the staff, probably injured, but her spear was steadily pointed at the monster snake.

    A monster hunter, he decided.

    But maybe that was just him projecting his interests on an innocent artwork.

    Krow tilted his head.

    A forest of strangely-crooked trees resolved themselves out of theposition. They looked oddly like they were bothughing and staring with intent at the fight.

    Anthropomorphic trees.

    Okay.

    He caught a green thread in the mess and couldn''t help but follow it as it hid and resurfaced in the chaos. Taking its path through the work, it was¡­a wheel.

    What.

    He was fairly certain that was a symbol of marriage in the Trade ns.

    He eyed the figures again.

    Horror,ughter, fight, ck, white, grey. Was that marriage?

    A symbol of something else?

    Eh, he only took that art theory ss in college because he knew the higher-ups in corporations liked to affect refinement by talking about the cultural renaissance of thest generation. That ss was, by now, decades in the past. What could he remember?

    Yeah, it was undeniably a wheel, it was undeniably limned in hidden green thread. Green for hope?

    "Krow!" Sein grinned from where he popped up at Krow''s elbow. "Do you like the tapestry? One day, I''ll travel to the Water Hills in Souris and fight a Gorgau myself."

    The boy''s energy at having found his family was really excessive.

    And did he say that snake monster was a Gorgon? Then the artist urately caught the atmosphere of horror around the monster.

    Being digested by a Gorgon was slow and painful.

    There were stories of people eaten by Gorgons whose cries would be heard for weeks outside the monster''sir before they quieted. Or eaten andter retrieved, but with their skin and faces melted off.

    Thinking of it, Krow was almost lucky hisst life was ended by stoneshark, which killed immediately.

    Perspective, he supposed.

    Krow ruffled the boy''s hair. "Sounds dangerous. I didn''t think the Trade ns had a tradition of betrothal hunts?"

    That was the only reason he could think of that a work depicting a battle would have a marriage wheel in the design.

    "Our ancestor got betrothed in the tradition of the other side," answered a voice that was not Sein.

    The portiere rustled, falling to its usual limpness as the vaguely disquieting young woman that had fetched him and Sein from the Gremut visiting-house came to stand in the room.

    There was something about her swirling eyes that was pointed, very different from Sein''s innocence, or even the cultivated gentleness in the Uncle''s eyes.

    She softly reordered Sein''s locks, which were sticking up. The boy huffed and pped his hands at hers.

    "She won, then?" Krow indicated the figure in the tapestry.

    Someone saw her fight and decided to wife her, was apparently what the tapestry depicted.

    "She was losing, in fact." The other smiled. "But the one who came across the fight was reportedly charmed by her steadfast stubborn refusal to die and deigned to assist."

    "Romantic," Krow muttered, dubious. He nced again at the crooked,ughing trees. The entertained trees.

    Dryads, he snorted to himself.

    It wasn''t like he''d met many members of the race. Of the ones he''d had semi-regr contact with, it was like the word ''mischief'' was invented to describe the state of their souls.

    It was a great blessing to the world that most dryads preferred to live as solitary reclusive hermits.

    "There is a song," the young woman agreed with a sigh, "that details the absolute mess of that romance. It was written by her brother, who had limited skills in the bardic arts but still felt the need to mock his sister in immortal verse."

    "Oh, don''t sigh, Einel," called one of the older girls sprawled over an upper bunk, smirking. "it''s hrious and you know it."

    "Sorry if I don''t like specting on the love life of my mentor, who happens to also be my great-great grandmother."

    There were sniggers.

    "She wouldn''t mind,"ughed someone.

    "She''d detail it all for you herself," agreed the first girl.

    Yikes.

    Thankfully, Sein was a bro and pulled him to the table with the younger children, away from the burgeoning catfight.

    "If you suggest something to her," Einel smiled, voice never changing from the soft tones. "I''ll send a bouquet of poppy ribbons to a certain knight."

    "¡­fine," the other capitted with half-hearted grouchiness, smirk only slightly dimming. "I''ll keep all the juicy, juicy details to myself."

    "Please do."

    Krow ignored them, once he knew the worst was over.. He''d just found that the ''box'' Sein was talking about was an Appraisal Box.

 Chapter 33 - The Goblin Caravan (2)

    He really shouldn''t be surprised, Krow thought ruefully as he helped Sein take the Box out of its wheeled protective crate and lift it to the low table.

    Of course a Trade n would have one. An Appraisal Box was useful in determining a workable value of items whose quality could not be immediately assured.

    Like unpolished slug pearls.

    Appraisal Boxes weren''t rare in Rends. Every middling-wealthy shop had one.

    His surprise was because, somehow, in Zuhskenar, it became incredibly difficult to find one at affordable prices. One of the sources of ingredients needed to craft the item went extinct, ording to rumor.

    That had been a surprise for the transmigrated yers. There was no extinction in the game; resources respawned.

    That they didn''t in Zushkenar had been a worry.

    The revenue of crafter-yers and hunter-yers declined as conservation efforts started gaining traction among the transmigrators.

    Greenhouses, husbandry, and hunting limits were instituted in areas that yers controlled.

    They were children of Earth, after all. A world where everyone knew that without concerted efforts and education in environmentalism, the beneath their feet would die.

    That was years after the Quake though.

    All that, didn''t matter at the moment.

    Sein''s Box was one of the medium-sized ones, with a base area of a half-meter squared, and walls of sixty or so centimeters high.

    It looked like a fancy crystal-ss terrarium, with a carved stone and metal mechanical base.

    Six levers and three knobs on the base had Krow arching his brows. A Mafmet-created version then.

    Einel, helping Sein adjust the levers to the setting for slug pearls, saw his surprise. She shrugged. "They were using it as a very pretty end-table."

    Sein said a farmer had it?

    Yeah, it would''ve been a crime to leave it there.

    Mafmet-created Appraisal Boxes were more urate, especially sought after by crafters.

    "Just set it to determine basic material rarity," murmured Einel to Sein, pointing out the levers and knobs needed. "We can do a deeper analysister."

    Sein nodded. Finally, they stepped back.

    "It''s ready."

    Krow stepped up to the Box and poured the slug pearls into the Box''s bed. Even the river stones that the Inventory had separated out.

    You never knew, after all.

    Sein, vibrating with excitement, turned the knob that activated the device.

    The pearls started to levitate.

    "Oh, good," murmured one of the people watching.

    Determining material rarity divided the pearls into three levels. Everyone in the room peered at the indicators on the crystal-ss outer surface. Three bands of color showed on the ss.

    Common, Umon, Rare.

    There wererger and fancier Appraisal Boxes that could analyze the next levels, which were Unique, Epic, Legendary.

    Krow still remembered the outcry when the designations were unveiled. The rarity designations were not really used in games these days, as most immersion games preferred to rely on the actual knowledge of the yer to determine the value of an object ¨C a more organic way of designating rarity.

    RSI disagreed.

    Apparently the old RPG standby rarity designations were ''ssic''.

    Krow thought they were put in so thepany and the game team could control the economy easier ¨C for all the hype, defining the drax as a realworld virtual currency was a gamble, after all.

    That aside, at each level of rarity, a further analysis of value could be made using the enchanter quality grades, generally A-grade at the top to F-grade at the lowest.

    Since the Box was only set to determine only material rarity, there were only three levels that the pearls rose to.

    When the analysis finished, and the bands of color turned translucent, the room let out a cheer.

    Most of the pearls were in the Umon category, over a dozen in the Common, and amazingly there were two in the Rare tier.

    Sein grinned smugly at the room, as he was alternatively hugged and patted on the shoulder.

    Einel and one of the other girls started taking out the pearls and stones to ce onbeled trays, separated by rarity.

    "Aren''t you regretting not taking my offer of half for your information now?" Sein nudged Krow yfully.

    Krow nudged back. "Definitely not."

    This early in the game, expanded storage items were priceless. Krow had three possible locations that hadn''t been plundered yet; wasn''t letting go of those quests for anything.

    Sein nodded, with a theatrical sigh of understanding. "I wouldn''t, either. I guess I''ll have to find my own treasure maps."

    Krow tried not to wince. Like monster hunter, the profession ''treasure hunter'' didn''t exist as a subss. But with the indecent amount of ruins and hidden ruins in Zushkenar, there were many yers who made a living by looting them.

    But it was his duty as an elder to discourage such plunder into historical sites, destroying evidence of old civilizations.

    Even if by bing a monster hunter, he would likely be a party to the near extinction of multiple species of monster flora and fauna if he continued it and Enchanting as his professions after December next year.

    Heh.

    "Not a treasure map," Krow refuted.

    Technically one of the quests ended in a pirate cave, but sadly, no treasure. Just an entric enchanter and his search for perfection.

    "Also," he continued, "To be a respected treasure hunter, you have to study to be an Archaeologist first."

    Sein wrinkled his nose. "Archae-?"

    "You did say you wanted to travel. Archaeologists are dedicated to exploration. You''ll see a lot of ruins up close."

    Archaeologist was a subss dedicated to exploration of history and historical sites, and most of its higher level skills were focused on preservation and analysis. Being an Archaeologist definitely made it easier to loot ruins, but it also taught people how to safeguard sites and artifacts.

    A lot of ancient and ''lost'' knowledge turning up in the game came from Archaeologists.

    "I already see a lot of ruins," Sein huffed.

    Right. Trade ns traveled nearly non-stop.

    Krow shrugged. "Just saying."

    He removed [Bundle of Feathers] from the Inventory and swished the fluffy ones yfully toward Sein, whoughed.

    "Oh, I want to do those too!"

    "You got feathers?" the younger ones lit up, more interested in the curling gold and red feathers than the rough stones that were just a mass of grey and brown blobs.

    "Come see how to calibrate the Box to analyze feathers," called one of the older girls, and the children clustered around her immediately, Sein included.

    "You''ve dealt with the Kevaldau before," murmured Einel,ing to stand beside him.

    "No, not really," Krow shrugged. He just had friends who had contacts in the Trading ns.

    All he knew about them was that they had a stubborn streak of individualism that meant the number of ns ebbed and flowed as names disappeared and returned through the generations, they were a very private people, they were fierce fighters and vicious merchants if they didn''t like you (even if they did like you, really), and their single greatest loyalty was to their ns.

    He knew he had to be invited before going anywhere, not to talk to people who hadn''t introduced themselves (the uncle only introduced himself by saying ''I lead this caravan, the kid is my nephew'' and nothing else), and don''t interact with the children without permission from an adult.

    Huh, that was probably more than most people knew.

    The Kevaldau were really keen about keeping their secrets. Pointedly keen, even.

    He only knew that much because he didn''t have a personal workshop even as a craftmaster in Zushkenar. He was still saving up, leasing space from Craftmaster Ortholian.

    That was how he got to know the guy.

    Ortholian liked to dump the frustrating naggy meetings with his trade contacts on him, thezy cigarette-swilling sloth.

    He had only put up with it for the lowered lease payments.

    It was definitely not worth it. All the people seemed to want in the meetings was again and again the same things:

    ''Is it done yet?''

    ''How long until these orders from such and such ce are done?''

    ''Have you gotten to these items yet? I assure you, we can pay.''

    ''Commoner, you irritate me with yourck of progress. If so and so whose title is higher than mine hadn''t rmended you, I would not be here in your dingy shop.''

    And so on.

    It was Ortholian who told him that ''Kevaldau'' meant ''of the valdau, the traveler''s wagon''. It was simr in pronunciation to the dwarviran word ''kobaldos'' which was the term for an imaginary mischievous spirit in dwarviran folktales.

    The dwarvir race was less vicious about keeping their culture to themselves, which is why people understood that ''kobaldos'' meant ''goblin'' in human tongue.

    This was the reason the Trade ns were known as ''goblin caravans'' or ''goblin ns''.

    It wasn''t a polite designation.

    There weren''t many n caravans west of the U Mountain Range, where most of the trade was regted by the Dunmervin Trading Council headquartered in Duryndon Gate-city. The free nature of the ns meant that few would work under the binding contracts needed to be able to work in any kingdom that was a member of the Trading Council.

    The mechanics of trade east of the U Mountains was less centralized.

    For them to be west of the mountains, the Garvan n was one of those who kept to the traditional n trade route that circled around the continent, taking two years to navigate, or they were one of the ns who signed the Dunmervin Trade Covenants.

    "No? I invite you to experience some of our customs then."

    Suspicious. That was suspicious wasn''t it?

    He''d just spent a full minute thinking that most of what he knew about the ns was that they were secretive and protective about it. Of course it was suspicious!

    Still, Krow was getting a little ustrophobic. With the three older kids leaving their bunks and gathering around the table, the space got too crowded.

    He followed Einel.

    He regretted it.

    The horse huffed at his hair.

    Oh no.

    She''d been talking about horse-riding?!

 Chapter 34 - The Goblin Caravan (3 Of 3)

    Krow had only been on a horse three times, and that included the time someone taught him to ride by tossing him onto a horse and yelling instructions while they fled.

    The other two times absolutely did not endear the animals to Krow.

    "You know," he grimaced at the reins that one of the riders had cheerfully tossed at him. "there was one time a horse tried to eat me."

    It was a shape-shifting mudlurker, but it counted, right?

    Yes it did.

    The rider, a russet-maned vargvir who''d introduced himself as Bassalt,ughed as he mounted his own steed. He did a graceful twisting motion with his legs and hips and suddenly it seemed he and his horse had always been melded as one, two puzzle-pieces that made a furry centaur.

    He winked at Krow. "I assure you, my friend, dearest Bangorgau has been weaned off human flesh."

    The horse was named Gorgon-blood.

    Nice.

    Krow eyed therge animal even more warily, then narrowed his eyes at Bassalt.

    Thank you, ''friend'', your assurance didn''t help at all.

    "I imagine it was difficult to escape when you were already on its back." Einel, already sitting on a blue-grey dappled mare, waited patiently.

    "It was¡­something like a mudlurker. A friend helped." Krow grabbed the saddle. His lips turned up at the edges briefly. "He had a spell very much like the Mouth of Hell, actually."

    Exactly like the Mouth of Hell. Gazzy''s Spell had eaten enough of the mudlurker''s mass that it crawled back into its pit in tiny wriggly wormy pieces and likely wouldn''t show itself for at least a hundred years.

    He couldn''t say that, though.

    Krow still hadn''t quite forgotten his thoughts on the AIs of Rends logging his conversations. If someone happened toe across them, or if an NPC AI tracked his Rends history to better craft his behavior to Krow''s actions, that''d be trouble, wouldn''t it?

    He couldn''t exin his unountable knowledge of Zushkenar. He''d already slipped up more than once.

    If he continued, he might get gged as a ckhat and his ount banned.

    That was something that couldn''t happen.

    Indefinitely, he''d pretend his experiences in Zushkenar were another game. Or maybe an augmented reality LARP, those were still popr.

    "You were watching the caravan?" Bassalt asked, surprised. One of his ears flicked, tilted lower.

    "I was nearby." Having psyched himself up, and seeing that neither of hispanions could be persuaded out of getting him to ride, he slid his right foot into the stirrup, tightened his grip on the saddle, and pulled himself up, swinging his left leg over the horse. He grunted. "Even if I wasn''t, it lit up the night like a beacon. Whose bright idea was that?"

    They both grimaced, didn''t answer.

    It was rhetorical anyway.

    The horse snorted but stayed quiescent as Krow adjusted himself in the saddle.

    Hah. It was docile now, but a horse with a name like Bangorgau had to have a few quirks.

    Krow wanted nothing to do with those quirks.

    He only just started getting used to the draculkar body avatar.

    And he''d learned to ride as a human.

    The designers of the races restricted themselves to purely humanoid designs in order to prevent cognitive dissonance in the yers, but added just enough variation to the human base that yers who chose non-human races had a longer adjustment period than human avatars.

    In draculkar, ording to online studies, the differences included heavier shoulder des,rger vestigial tailbones, odd heart and lungs, subtly w-like fingernails. Then there were the weird tendons, especially in the legs.

    He skimmed, alright?

    The point was, the bnce that Krow-the-draculkar needed on a horse was not the same bnce Scare-the-human had learned.

    He tensed his knees and tugged at the reins. The horse moved.

    What a relief. At least some things were the same.

    "You were out at moonset?" Bassalt eyed him dubiously.

    Yes, yes, he didn''t look like much. His stats were in the low twenties still, you know! Of course he looked like a teenager in growth phase.

    Ugh, he couldn''t wait until he gained enough stats that he could bulk up his avatar body a little.

    Being so slim and lean obviously got no respect.

    He''d seen the sizing enchants Janggi had surreptitiously ced on his clothes.

    "Scouting for a job." Krow kept his attention on the horse, trying to keep his back straight and not fall off if the horse swerved or something equally embarrassing.

    They broke into a fast walk, an easy-looking pace in the other riders, to catch up with the caravan. Krow paled a little, tightening his grip on the reins.

    He''d ridden flying beetle-boars, he berated himself, even one of those crazy racing podcycle inventions by the Mafmet yers. This should be easy.

    "You''re too tense," Einel observed, studying his posture. "Not used to riding?"

    "There are other mounts." Better mounts. Ones that didn''t remind him of teeth grinding into his flesh.

    "Shkav, I need a distraction. You want to know what happenedst night? Fine."

    It wasn''t a secret.

    He just didn''t want to talk to someone who didn''t introduce himself properly then started to interrogate him like he was due Krow''s story. No matter how gently, it was still an interrogation.

    For a fraction of a moment, Einel looked concerned. Krowunched intost night''s retelling before she could draw attention to his unease.

    "It was a split-second decision," he started. "The bird flew right over me, and your brother is¡­very small and young..."

    *

    It took an hour and a half for the caravan to reach Nyurajke.

    It took a third of that time for Einel and Bassalt to run out of questions and start bickering. They got a little heated.

    Krow tried to leave them to it, but the sted horse preferred to pace its fellow animals.

    With a barb thrown by Einel, Bassalt narrowed his eyes gleefully. He definitely was going to say something outrageous. Krow chuckled resignedly, interrupting. "You sure you want to do that?"

    Bassalt smiled widely. "Oh, everything between us is like this. It''s my name, see. It''s why she has a rocky rtionship with me."

    Krow regretted immediately.

    "I would prefer not having any sort of rtionship with you." Einel stated.

    "But I am irresistibly lith-some."

    With good reason, she ignored him after that.

    Bassalt leaned close to Krow. "Whenever she sees me," he thrilled in a stage whisper. "Her face bes like stone!"

    "Don''t bring me into this," Krow sighed.

    Bassalt smirked, but obliged. "Have you heard of the gunsmiths of Themlef? I hear their trade is reviving, after centuries of decline."

    "Are they any good?"

    The rest of the way to Nyurajke was made less of an ordeal by Bassalt telling stories of ces and people the caravan met on the road.

    A throwawayment confirmed that their branch of the Garvan n had signed the Trade Covenants.

    Hm. That gave him an idea.

    Then something caught his eye.

    In the distance, a flight of windmills crested tall towers, wings curling around a center in a globe-like style, different from the pinwheel windmills on Earth.

    The sight took his attention away from an avid discussion on the types of monsters thatmonly surfaced in different parts of Marfall.

    Einel followed his fascinated gaze. "We''re a quarter-hour away."

    Krow stopped his horse, slid off and started stretching happily. "Great, I''m walking."

    Bassalt snickered, and a couple of the nearer riders made sounds of amusement. No doubt his horse-riding prowess had been dismal. Even Einel smirked.

    It felt dismal, anyway. His torso and thighs ached.

    But then both of them dismounted too.

    The caravan started slowing down.

    Eh?

    Einel cleared his silent confusion. "There''s a clearing near. Too much trouble to use the town caravanserai."

    They weren''t stopping long, was the implication.

    Ahead, half the riders converged on Harnalt, following some unseen signal. A cart was quickly assembled from various detachable parts of the wagons and hitched to one of the spare oxen.

    It took less than five minutes before the cart was moving.

    Impressive.

    "One hour!" Harnalt''s call rumbled through the whole of the caravan.

    There were cheers from the older children, before they quickly scattered to get ready.

    "That reminds me, you''re on child minding duty today."

    "Ah," Bassalt noted in dismay. "Are you sure it wasn''t kitchen duty?"

    Einel''s expression didn''t change. "Very sure."

    Bassalt looke like he wanted to argue, but instead turned to sling an arm around Krow. "My friend, this is the sorrowful moment when we part ways. I shallmend your safety to the Watchers on the Roads, and hope for the sweetness of future reunion!"

    "¡­sure. Safe travels to you too."

    "Agh," Bassalt staggered back, wilting against his horse, "the soul of a draculkarcks poetry."

    "The hundreds of critically acimed songs about dragons deny your ims," Krow stated.

    Because even a hermit living under a rock could sing about draculkar and their dragon obsession.

    Bassalt shook his head, the picture of mourning. "Corrupted, dragon-mad, unknowing¡­" He leaped onto the saddle. "Farewell! My dear Einel, I shall see youter."

    "No."

    He rode away calling back. "Fortune favors the bolder!"

    Krow chuckled.

    Sein leaned out the middle wagon, sighed, then slumped down on the retracting steps.

    Krow neared. "Not joining them?"

    "I''m to stay here," he said glumly. Then snorted. "Who wants to see the town-under-pass anyway? We''ve seen it many times before."

    "And you''ll see it many more times after." Krow tried not to smile at the childish pique.

    Sein nodded, kept his firm expression for a long moment, then gave up. He leaned his shoulder into Krow''s arm. "I want to see it now, though."

    "You''re old enough to know now," Krow patted his shoulder, unsympathetic. "Being grown up means not always getting what you want."

    The kid ran out on the open road with condorowls prowling. He was barely being punished. Probably his guardians thought the scare of the adventure was enough.

    Sein wrinkled his nose.

    "You see this horse? I didn''t want to ride this horse. But the other option was walk, which was slower. Did I want to walk? Not when there was another option. I rode the horse."

    "You could''ve sat in the valdau with us!"

    "I don''t like confined spaces," he shrugged. Also, his sister wanted him away from the caravan living spaces ¨C Krow hadn''t been unaware of that. The girl was dangerously protective of her family. "Besides, I got to hear the story about the secret dance of rosefur bears in the Rombe forests."

    That finally got a small smile from Sein. "I like that story."

    "I like that story too."

    It told him there were, in fact, rosefur bears in the Rombe forests. Rosefur bear hide was great armor material.

    Sein was quiet. "We''re never seeing each other again, are we?"

    Krow nudged his shoulder. "Do you really believe that? I don''t. When ites down to it, the world is a small ce."

    "No it isn''t. Marfall is, as reported by the sages of the Varrun Observatory, around thirty million square kilometersrge."

    ¡­the ns didn''t stint on their children''s studies, huh?

    Was it really that big?

    It didn''t feel like it.

    He mussed up Sein''s hair. "You''ll know what I mean. Just know it means we''ll meet again. So don''t forget me, hm?"

    "I won''t! I wanted to give you something, so you can''t forget me too!" He pulled Krow''s hand up and dropped a small object in it.

    It was a slug pearl, graded C- Rare. One of the only two Rare pearls in Sein''s haul.

    "You know this is worth at least half the value of all the Umon ones put together, right?"

    "It''s a leaving gift." Sein said stoutly. "You can''t refuse it."

    Krow was touched.

    Leaving gifts were given to those who left the caravan, but were still part of it.

    "Do you think you can be allowed to apany me to a temple?" Krow wondered. "Your scary sister cane with us."

    "Einel''s not scary! And she''s my cousin."

    "Why?" Einel nced at them from where she''d beenbing her horse, not even hiding her eavesdropping.

    "His gift needs a spirit-binding." Krow turned to Sein. "An early thirteenth year present. You can''t refuse either."

    Sein beamed.

    "Does it have to be a spirit-bind?"

    Krow nodded. "I have to do one as well. I''ll go first?"

    Einel inclined her head. "I''ll tell father."

    She tossed the currb into a box on the wagon and walked away.

    Hopefully Krow remembered the Chant correctly.. He was going to be watched as closely as a mouse being stalked by a hungry hawk.

 Chapter 35 - The Temple Of Telanweth (1)

    There were three deities whose temples offered the kind of spirit-binding Krow needed. Luckily, most towns had at least one.

    Nyurajke had all three.

    Krow hadn''t expected Nyurajke to be arge town, but there were at least a dozen towers in the upper reach, and another dozen in the lower reach. Then there were seven windmills that marked workshop towers in the windiest area of themunity.

    Like Gremut, it was a high ce, a teau surrounded by steep cliffs and soaring peaks.

    It was a cacophony of a hundred different sounds, the creak of carriages, the calls of caged animals and draft animals, the shouts of street hawkers, and the conversations between people. The ground was hard stone, and the clop-clop-clop of hoofed animals in the streets was a constant underlying white noise.

    This was the town closest to the draculkar capital city of Velkenbragg. It probably took most of the yers just out of the starting viges before quests or travels took them to the capital.

    The streets bustled.

    Traders and travelers and shoppers, all mixing together with vehicles and beasts.

    The yers were more conspicuous here, running around in mismatched armor, toting the particr weapons of the fifteen battlesses.

    Some towns banned duels in public streets, so there were challenge battles in taverns, on roofs, onrge balconies, any ce that could allow a decent amount of footwork.

    The crowd he''d glimpsed in the park beside in the secondary za below was probably an impromptu dueling ground.

    The purposely built dueling arenas hadn''t reached the towns yet.

    Krow kept to the main street.

    He''d left Sein to follow with Einel. Temples didn''t require quests to enter, but you never knew.

    Thanks to the condorowl quest, he had necessary ingredients for the spirit-binding ritual in Tnweth Temple.

    The Temple of Tnweth was built between the town za and the towers of the merchants'' quarter, a spiral ziggurat three levels high ¨C minisculepared to the hundred-meter domination of the town''s main administrative spire.

    Tnweth was the deity of material things, mediation, and magic.

    It looked empty.

    The contrast of its quietness to the lively Temple of Grenod built right across the street was startling.

    Tnweth was a Temple for schrs, diplomats, and merchants, often negatively associated with greed and power and mystery. Grenod was a deity of pledges and contracts, so themon people trusted Grenod more, despite many who used the Temple services being merchants and noblemen too.

    The hall of Tnweth Temple had an odd echoing sadness.

    In the middle of the Hall, a golden statue of Tnweth red, regally sitting on a cloud-covered throne, the sweeping ck crown on their head looking like it absorbed the light of the surroundings. The ck crown cast a shadowy veil over Tnweth''s face. In their hands, they carried a lute like it was a weapon, and from their belt hung a wine jar and a wreath of flowers.

    On a pedestal beside the altar, a lute plucked a lonely melody, ying itself.

    Krow frowned, looking around.

    "Wee to the Temple," a siren entered the hall from behind the altar, d in cream and red-orange. "I am the priest. May I¡­assist?"

    Krow carefully didn''t react. "I need the use of a ritual room."

    "Yes, wee. This way."

    Krow looked back, to where he could see the crowds of the Grenod Temple.

    Maybe he should just wait for the others there? He did tell Sein to check Tnweth first, then the other two temples.

    He sighed.

    No.

    Grenod Temple spirit-binding Chants were longplicated things. Even he wasn''t quite sure he remembered correctly. And he never learned the Chants for the Kamathor Temple.

    He wanted toe early to bind a few things he didn''t want Einel to see. Finding two starweave cloth packs was semi-believable, he could have gained the data from the craftmaster forums. But all his starting gear, plus the Starseeker Coat and the Boots?

    That was data that hadn''t been discovered yet.

    The Temples weren''t asplicated as the artificial intelligences governing the NPCs. A ritual was formic, a simple if-then proposition. If the correct items were gathered, the result would always be a sess.

    His spirit-bindings would be lost as a speck of dust in the mountain of data that Rends generated every minute.

    But now this?

    The siren seemed the only inhabitant of the Temple. Resigned, Krow hooked his arm around the robed siren''s throat and squeezed.

    There was, in fact, a system assist for martial arts. Krow needed five bullets to down a Lvl 3 monster; the same amount of stunrounds for a Lvl 4.

    For a yer that was at least Lvl 5?

    No dice.

    This way, he was putting to use his college self-defense sses.

    The choking siren went limp.

    [You''ve defeated a Lvl 6 yer and gained three (3) silver serpens!]

    [Unconscious: 0:00:04:59:32]

    Five minutes.

    Better than expected.

    He dragged the siren into a ritual room, tied his hands and feet together, then locked the door as he left.

    [The Temple of Tnweth is being robbed! Defeat the burrs, let justice prevail over those who wouldmit atrocious crimes!]

    A bit over the top but, more importantly, the fact that it didn''t specify how many enemies there were said he was going against yers.

    The hall was clear, he''d already looked.

    In fact, the situation had been clear the moment he''d been greeted.

    Tnweth didn''t have priests.

    On Earth, it ismon to rob banks. In Rends, there was more money in temples.

    It looked like some yers decided to gather Infamy by theft.

    A bit of Infamy was actually useful in Rends; it broadened the amount of quests that was offered to a yer.

    But it was still a little iffy stealing from a temple.

    Especially Tnweth.

    Tnweth was a patron in the underground, a deity representing greed. Being greedy was good, very motivating, but there was such a thing as too greedy.

    Robbing what might be your patron deity?

    Was that seven years of bad luck? Hah, more like seven hundred.

    Say goodbye to your dreams of bing crimelords.

    It''s not like there weren''t a lot of rich merchants around town. Or hidden nobles. There were probably a lot of hidden nobles in town who would dly pillory a yer''s reputation into the mud.

    He unholstered his revolver, ghosted along the edges of the Temple nave, cautiously peeking into ritual rooms.

    Nothing.

    A curtain hung behind the altar. The siren hade from there. Krow lifted the curtain.

    There was a room behind the altar. Some kind of office.

    The wardrobe door was crooked, and creaked as it opened.

    Krow stilled.

    Nothing happened.

    But behind the cream and sunset-red robes, there was an entrance.

    He put away the gun and slowly eased into the hole at the back of the wardrobe.

    It led to a small alcove, with a stairwell going down. The walls were stone, old and smooth. The reliefs of monkeys on the walls and the pirs that were carved with stories of Tnweth told Krow this was a deliberate part of the Temple, but not meant to be seen by outsiders.

    Really, someone put a vault behind the altar, under the church floors, behind a secret wall?

    If there were catbs with bones and candle-holding skulls inside wall-holes somewhere, his respect for Tnweth''s taste in architects would plummet.

    He stopped when he heard the first sounds apart from the asional scratching from behind the walls and the faint chittering of insects. Or was it rats?

    Moving downward, the air grew cooler, the shadows flickering a bit more.

    He re-armed himself.

    The cold was an air vent somewhere, likely.

    Definitely not ghosts.

    He breathed in relief at the brush of air across his cheeks. He hadn''t been lying when he said he didn''t like confined spaces.

    Creeping lower, the voices grew more distinct.

    "¡­only be opened by an officer of the capital Temple!"

    "You''re lying." The voice was male, calm and indifferent, certain of his words.

    Krow slid behind a pir and peered past. There were two draculkar before a stone pedestal. One was an older male, likely the head of the Temple, the Docent. The other was a swordsbearer.

    "Why would I lie?" the first man asked, a tone of pleading exasperation in his mellifluous voice. "We are mediators, not monks or priests. We speak no vows, not even as warriors do. Tnweth does not ask loyalty of us, only that we do our work well in service. You have threatened my life; have proved that it is not idle boast. I ask, why would I lie?"

    The swordsbearer considered the docent''s words. He nced toward the stairwell.

    Krow stilled.

    But the man hadn''t seen him.

    "Tique, what was the quest again?"

    A woman answered. "Find the vault, find the key."

    Krow''s heart jumped ¨C the second yer was too close to the stairwell. Then the same heart dropped to his stomach.

    Oh no.

    There were two of them.

    He closed his eyes, thinking.

    "Nothing about a scavenger hunt around the capital, hm?"

    "No."

    The swordsbearer smiled at the docent. It was a cold, empty smile. "Still saying the key''s not here?"

    "The docent of the capital Temple would have one." The older draculkar was still calm.

    "Well, I guess you''re useless then."

    Shkav!

    Krow burst out of the stairwell, tossing a Mist Vial into the shocked face of the woman, revolver already barking at the swordbearer.

    A choking thud sounded behind him, but the swordbearer jumped away.

    Krow took advantage of his Acrobat subss and leaped up a pir. He crouched on a ledge, dislodging themp there.

    The opponent was nowhere to be seen.

    "Drop your weapons! This is the Guard!" he roared.

    There was a small silence as he swapped cylinders.

    What, they didn''t even have the guts to react?!

    Then the face of the robber draculkar was right in front of him, sword already swinging.

    Weeping graves, he already had a movement Spell?!

    Krow tipped forward, falling into the space between the sword and the man''s body. He flipped, hanging off the ledge with one arm. The opponents boot ground into Krow''s hand as he reversed momentum.

    Batard!

    Five stunrounds emptied as he fell, all hit.

    They dropped.

    The sword came at him again, relentless.

    Hended on his haunches and leaped backward, loading hisst cylinder.

    The other followed. Fast! Krow jerked his head back, the sword point nicking his brow instead of slicing through his neck.

    Another attack.

    Dodge. Three bullets gone.

    Krow noticed something.

    Huh, the other draculkar was using the system assist. A swordbearer, under Lvl 10.

    How well he knew those moves.

    A small grin split Krow''s face.

    The other''s brow ticked, but he charged again.

    There were twelve basic starting movements for a swordsbearer. Most learn to add variations or lower the system assist by Lvl 15, but this guy wasn''t there yet.

    That meant, for Krow, his opponent''s moves were somewhat predictable. How many hours had Krow spent practicing those starting movements¡­ if he didn''t know them, he''d better give up all this, sell his equipment, and buy a ticket to Mars.

    The movement spell wasn''t mastered too. Maybe Sidewinder Leap?

    Since he was just as slow as Krow now, he''d spent all his MP on the first attack.

    Hehe.

    A corner of the man''s mouth tipped up.

    Oh no.

    Krow viciously kicked the opponent''s knee in. In this instance, do unto others before they do unto you. That smile probably was the guy''s MP recovering.

    The other''s starting movement faltered and thest two the bullets crashed into him.

    Then Krow mmed the butt of his gun into the other''s head. Once. Twice. Thr-

    The would-be robber dropped.

    [You''ve defeated a Lvl 7 yer and gained four (4) silver serpens!]

    Krow panted, his heart pumping hard.

    That was too close.

    He nearly got sliced into little pieces. Even with Acrobat, he couldn''t win against a movement Spell.

    He nearly died again, not 24 hours after thest time.

    He red at the unconscious yer. [Unconscious: 0:00:02:59:13]

    Who was this? The Sidewinder Leap was a rank-two movement Spell. One hundred MP shouldn''t have been recovered that fast. It meant, he had MP recovery items too?!

    A rich yer?

    The armor he had on didn''t look like rags.

    Krow sighed. Too bad only a dead yer could be looted.

    But if you knock them unconscious, you only get coins.

    Also killing a yer would give them the killer''s name in notifications.

    Wars in Rends could be started by simple revenge PK.

    As Krow was not going to be part of a guild, or even a pure battler, he would always be at disadvantage. Also, the would-be robber had a petty look to him. Who wanted that drama?

    A sound had him whirling.

    The docent stood beside the female draculkar. There was a suspicious bump on the woman''s head, and themp that had fallen from the ledge close by.

    Krow chose not toment.

    The docent lifted his hands. "Guardsman, are you well?"

    Krow coughed, lowering his gun. The again, now useless gun. He needed more cylinders for his revolver, as soon as possible. And better bullets. "Sorry, docent, not really a guard."

    "Ah, I thought so."

    "Are you hurt?" Krow took out a couple of Low Heals, giving one to the docent. He swiped blood away from the cut on his brow, feeling it tingle as the Low Heal worked.

    "I am fine. Fine, I¡­"

    Heavy boots ttered down the stairwell, echoing. "Great-uncle! Great-uncle, are you there?"

    "Guardsman!" came a yell muffled by stone. "What do you think you''re doing?! Come back here!"

    A draculkar burst into the vault room.

    He took in the scene, gaped.

    Then his expression firmed. "Put down your weapons! This is the Guard!"

    Krow holstered his gun andughed.

 Chapter 36 - The Temple Of Telanweth (2)

    "I warn you, I have been trained in the great arts of the sages of Urrad. If you try anything ¨C uurkh!" Before the guard could do anything with his great arts, a hand snapped up him up by the cor.

    "Stand down, guard." The older woman holding the guardsman back said the words with the resigned frustration of someone who had dealt too much with youthful shenanigans.

    "Yes, nephew," the docent sighed. "this is the young man who saved me."

    "Krow," he introduced himself. "Maybe you could secure them before they wake up? I don''t want to deal with the guy''s movement spell again."

    The guardswoman ¨C from the decal on her shoulder armor, an officer ¨C narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded at the other guards that had followed behind her.

    The young draculkar got free of the officer and approached the docent. "Great-uncle, we saw¡­"

    The docent nodded once, swallowed and turned away.

    His great-nephew stopped, not knowing what to do or say.

    "Docent Ordoi," the guard officer approached. "will you tell us what happened?"

    Krow turned from watching two guards tie up failed-robber draculkar guy and lift him to their shoulders.

    "Of course¡­" The docent seemed to be lost in thought, then shook his head, focus returning. "Of course, Training Sergeant Amluyr."

    He ced his hand on his nephew''s shoulder, and started. "I had just sent away most of my morning ss, thank the Divines, when the three of them entered."

    The training sergeant''s eyes swept the room. "Three?"

    "There''s a siren tied up in one of the ritual rooms, if you''re interested." Krow spoke.

    "A siren, yes. That was the other." The docent nodded.

    One of the guards nodded at the sergeant, and headed for the stairwell.

    The sergeant''s gaze centered on Krow. "And you are Krow of¡­"

    "s Krow," he borated. "Came to conduct a spirit binding on a few items. I was greeted in the hall by the siren, who called himself a priest."

    The docent barked a humorlessugh, increasing the concern in his nephew''s eyes. "Young people. They do not listen half so well to their lessons as they do to tales of derring-do and adventure."

    He smiled bitterly at Krow. "I thank you. Your binding will be paid for by the Temple, of course."

    "You are generous, but I came prepared," Krow declined gently. "I only did what any rational person would do."

    "You would think," the sergeant murmured, almost to herself, "that the rational person would do the actual rational thing and call the Guard."

    Krow lowered his voice to match, leaning toward her. "I''m sorry, sergeant. I was afraid that after telling him I wanted a ritual room, just leaving would make him suspicious."

    The sergeant exhaled audibly, acknowledged his words with an inclined head, and returned to questioning the head of the temple. "Please, docent, after they entered?"

    "The young male, the leader, walked up. Simply killed them, just took out his sword and...like he was swiping a line of ink across parchment with a pen!" The docent''s eyes sparked. Then dimmed again. "It happened so fast, I didn''t even realize until their blood washed the stones¡­I¡­I didn''t realize.

    "He turned the sword on me, still red. ''Now,'' he said, ''you know I am serious.'' Then demanded the location of the vault and that I open it."

    The young guard sped tight the hand his uncle had ced on his shoulder, trying not to look ill.

    "Two of my students, promising young ones, they had not even reached their quarter-century." He huffed augh that cracked halfway through. "¡­innocently telling me about their wish to try their hand at the Gauntlet. So much promise, so much."

    Tears hung in the silver eyes, expression suddenly vicious as he raised his gaze to the guard officer. "Even if I died, sergeant, I could not give the urfekkar what he wanted. How could I face my ancestors and theirs, if I allowed the one who killed my students to profit from their deaths?"

    The docent took a few breaths, then ended. "He was about to kill me, I believe, when the young one came in."

    The guard sergeant nodded. "Thank you for telling us, docent."

    "No, no. I want those people jailed, never to show their faces in the kingdom again."

    "If you give your nephew the names of the deceased, we can send a runner to the families."

    "Thank you, but I must go myself. They were entrusted to my care."

    "He''ll apany you, regardless."

    The docent turned to Krow. "Shall we speakter?"

    Krow bowed.

    He watched as the docent was gently led away by the nephew.

    When the game developers decided that actions of the yers had consequences, they went all out. So much that theplexity of NPC behavior had to be taken into ount.

    Failed-robber, you acted dramatic and cool in the true chuuni way, but bad luck, you failed in your calctions. Now, there will be no chuuni criminal mastermind tugging the strings of the Marfall underground with overlyplicated gambits, chess metaphors, and the asional viinous cackling.

    Krow truly regretted it, a tragic loss.

    Dealings with the underground would be so much less entertaining now.

    "s Krow, was it? Of the Garvan n?"

    Krow blinked at the sergeant. Then straightened, rmed. "Sein saw the¡­"

    He didn''t see the bodies himself; they must have been on the upper mezzanine.

    But Sein was a curious cat of an explorer. He would definitely have reconnoitered the whole of the Temple first.

    Sein was the only reason the sergeant would reference the Garvan n to him right now.

    "The child? No. His sister sent him packing to call a patrol."

    "Oh." Krow breathed relief. "Good. But I''m not n, no. I traveled with them from Gremut."

    "What made you decide to stop the robbery?"

    Because he didn''t want to do chores for the Kamathor temple just to find their binding Chants, and the Garvan n would object to spirit-binding an object to one of their children using the Grenod Temple, whose bindings were the most difficult to get out of ¨C you had to parse through the meanings of the Ritual Language first, and no one understood thatnguagepletely.

    Tnweth spirit bindings were the simplest to remove, so it would appeal to the caution of the n. And for Krow, they were also the simplest to ce.

    In other words, he waszy?

    He couldn''t say that.

    Mercifully, while he was scrambling for something suitably heroic to say, she just asked another question. "After locking up the siren, why not, at that time, leave the Temple to inform the authorities?"

    "I¡­didn''t think of it?"

    The sergeant drew her fingertips across her temple, tracing a line to her ear, amon expression of frustration in draculkar. "Of course you didn''t think."

    Uh¡­that wasn''t what he said. He opened his mouth to protest.

    She red at him, a faint smile touching her lips. Thebination made her look like she could murder him in less than a second.

    She probably could.

    He shut his mouth.

    "Walk me through your actions, from entering the Temple to the Guarding down here."

    Interrogation, Krow thought morosely, was not a proper reward for valiant deeds.

    If it were those elite top level yers, they''d probably have strode off into the sun right now, cloaks pping indifferently behind them, wallets fat, heads haloed in glory, and never caring about the paperwork.

    He signed a witness statement, deliberately blurring his signature. His name was not on the paperwork, thankfully. He was Witness B.

    What?

    Who was Witness A?

    They didn''t even give him the first letter?

    Weeping skies.

    [The Nurajke Town Guards have taken into their custody three (3) burrs attacking the Temple! You''ve gained 15 RP with the Temple of Tnweth, and 6 RP with Nyurajke Town!]

    Whoa.

    ¡­fine.

    Let those gloryhounds take the sun.

    Krow would sign whatever he needed to sign for the RP.

    *

    When Krow and the sergeant squeezed through the door in the wardrobe, they saw the docent staring out the window, eyes far away.

    He turned at the sound of them exiting the vault, stared at them nkly for a moment.

    "Ah, yes." He said atst. "May I speak to young Krow for a moment, sergeant. I sent Dad to¡­to acquire carrying frames."

    "Is there anything I might assist you with, docent?" The sergeant was concerned.

    Krow understood. The docent looked like he''d been in a daze since the attack.

    "I¡­no, only make certain they get justice."

    "Of course. Then, by your leave," the sergeant nodded and left them there.

    "Please sit." The docent waved carelessly at the furniture as he himself dropped into the chair behind the desk. "I heard¡­no, this is no time for flowery words, I will be blunt." His gaze sharpened. "I wish you to kill someone."

    Krow paused in the act of sitting, stunned into the awkward pose for a long moment before he realized he looked too uncool and sat down properly.

    Did he look like a killer?

    ck coat, ck trousers, dark blue-grey gun, boots that were so dark they might as well be ck, ck travel-bag, white gloves.

    Eh...he did.

    "Um." Krow frowned. "You know it''s safer to post a bounty in the ''official'' guilds rather than grabbing someone off the street to do your¡­wetwork?"

    That was the ssic description, right?

    The docent''s shoulders slumped. He smiled wryly. "I see that you were not expecting it. No, by your response alone, my fears in that regard are nil."

    "Yes. I see why you''d think I''m of the particr profession though." No, were his clothes the reason Sein''s rtives and the guard sergeant interrogated him as soon as they saw him?

    That¡­that was prejudice against the color ck!

    "You fight with stealth and speed, you are a gun-wielder, you have acquaintance with the Kevaldau, and you did not introduce the name of your House, yes."

    ¡­a different kind of prejudice then. A passel of prejudices, even.

    He smiled, settled his expression to politely enquiring. "I don''t see why acquaintance with the Kevaldau would make people think me ready to kill for money."

    The docent eyed him, sighed. "You need not defend the ns to me. My mother was of the blood, after all. I chose to oath to Tnweth for a reason."

    A test?

    Tsk.

    Krow got it. As a mediator, the docent could ease the passage of the Trade ns through at least the merchant areas in the kingdom.

    That had certain implications in the increased trade between the western and eastern halves of the continent.

    In Zushkenar, trade across the U Mountain Range was nearly non-existent.

    He wondered what happened.

    Inwardly, a part of him snorted cynically. Why even ask?

    War happened.

    The docent stood. "I wish to thank you for your acts today."

    It was nothing no yer would do. But it''s not like he would refuse a reward. Krow stood as well.

    "Come," the docent re-entered the now not-so-secret wardrobe door to the vault. "This is an offer just for today. One item of Unique rarity from the vault."

    Jackpot!

    *

    End Chapter

    *

    Notes:

    Urfekkar ¨C a slur in draculkarnguage, very impolite. Based on the draculkar word for ''wolf'', which is ''urv''. Or ''urf'' in certain dialects.

    The docent using it was¡­.you can just hear his nephew mentally falling t on his face in bbergasted disbelief ¨C thankfully, this one time, he won''t tattle to his grandmotherter.. The training sergeant has a good poker face, never gamble with her.

 Chapter 37 - The Temple Of Telanweth (3 Of 3)

    "Should you be offering Temple items to strangers?"

    The docent smiled briefly as they reached the end of the stairwell, entering the chamber to the vault. "We docents have some leeway. Many of the items stored here are donations after all, earned by our words and work."

    He took out the key, a cube with arcane symbols on the sides and ced it on the pedestal. The walls of the empty stone chamber were suddenly full of shelves. Several trunks were stacked in one part,beled. One had a crack near the edge of the metal band that circled its body, and the gleam of golden drax shone through.

    "We only have six Unique items in storage ¨C most of the others were taken to the capital. Not very many for a temple of Tnweth, yes? A poor haul for a robber." His lips nted with restrained anger, his eyes shed.

    "You should probably change the location of your vault," Krow mentioned, turning his attention to the shelf of Unique items. "That guy didn''t seem the type to ept failure."

    "My thoughts are the same," the docent nodded. "Hence the¡­offer you refused."

    Yeah, failed-robber guy would probably coldly state something like ''To not learn from mistakes is to be a fool, and I, have never thought myself a fool.'' Then he''d pull his sword from the scabbard and hold it until it reflected his eyes on the de or something simrly melodramatic.

    Krow straightened from his perusal of the shelves. He tilted his head.

    How to say this¡­.

    "Can I have two Rares instead of the Unique?"

    Because honestly, the Uniques in this vault were trash.

    Docent, if the capital Temple left these with you for the value, you''ve been duped sideways and under.

    rewood Ranger Bow, Infinity ive, Sylvandawn Boar Tendon, Phoenix Crystal Down, Stygian Steel Ingot, Seatalon Chakram.

    The weapons were definitely Unique, made with expensive materials, excellent quality. The problem was, the creation pattern for these Uniques had been posted on the forums two months ago by a craftmaster quitting the game.

    The market was saturated.

    No one would buy even at the steep, steep discount of 30k drax.

    At most, deconstructing them down to base materials could sell at eleven to fifteen thousand drax. Most Uniques cost over a hundred thousand.

    The Tendon and the Steel Ingot were D- Uniques. A master enchanter might be able to do something, but they''d just clutter up Krow''s Inventory.

    The only need he had for Phoenix Crystal Down was to sacrifice it to Tnweth in a ritual, but there was a reason people didn''t sacrifice things like slug pearls to the Divines, no matter how valuable and rare.

    "You can have two Uniques, if you wish," the docent said dryly.

    Krow peered at him. Was he serious?

    Even with the loss of value, fifteen thousand drax was not a small sum. In Zushkenar, only mage-crafters, established merchants, and nobles could earn that much in a year.

    The draculkar nodded, motioning encouragement.

    Krow crossed his arms. "This isn''t the actual vault, is it?"

    "Why would you say that?"

    Krowughed, suspicion confirmed.

    This was Tnweth, the patron the underground chose to be their deity of greed, of cunning and trickery.

    "Alright then, thank you!" Cheered, Krow with no further ado took the Bow and the Chakram.

    He disappeared the items into his inventory.

    He''d initially thought he''d use the grade B Rare feathers on the vault shelves for his and Sein''s spirit-binding, but he''d just go with the original n and use his grade C Rare condorowl feathers.

    He tripped out of the vault, smiling.

    "Krow! You''re alright!"

    Krow grinned at Sein, waved at the kid and the impatient-looking Einel standing with him. The two Guards obviously keeping an eye on them told Krow the reason for the girl''s irritation.

    He walked the docent over to them. "Einel, Sein, this--"

    "Docent," one of the Guards interrupted. "We found them loitering behind the altar."

    "We were waiting for Krow," Sein huffed. He turned to Krow and the docent. "They wouldn''t let us explore."

    The docent smiled painfully at Sein. "All are wee to walk the Temple, but today, not to explore, I think."

    The Guards looked disappointed that they wouldn''t get to arrest someone.

    Murder always madew enforcement jittery.

    Krow continued his introduction. "This is Docent Ordoi of the Temple. You probably met his great-nephew. He was the youngest Guard, I think."

    Einel nodded once.

    Sein chortled at the docent. "Your nephew tripped three times just walking down the hall."

    A very new Guard. No wonder the training sergeant looked so drained.

    The docent sighed. "He was very excitable as a child. He made a good decision, joining the Guard. You are here to bind an object, I hear? I will prepare the main altar for you."

    "Really, the big one!"

    Krow eyed the docent. "Are you sure? There are things waiting for you, aren''t there?"

    "It''s but the work of a minute," the docent waved him off. "It is good to be working. The people need to see we are working as usual. Besides, my nephew is not yet here. Come,e, young sirs, young miss."

    The warm wee of the docent had the Guards rxing.

    It was indeed the work of a minute to prepare the ritual circle on the main altar. The docent worked with practiced, easy motions, then finally, lit the two mes in the sacrificial bowls.

    He looked at them. "Who is to do the bind? If you need a moment to practice the Chant?"

    Krow shook his head, stepped forward. "Sein''s going to do the same binding after me."

    The docent obligingly pulled the boy to the side to check his knowledge of the Chant. Krow had already given Sein a copy, but it was less than a half-hour ago.

    He ced his emptied [Starseeker Traveler Pack] on the altar.

    Tnweth had an affinity to items connected to air, plus items that were food. So his ritual sacrifices were already in his Inventory.

    -

    [Favel''s Berrybar]

    [Freshness: 97%] [Quality: S]

    -

    [Ethereal Condorowl Flight Feather]

    [Quality: C][Rare]

    -

    Krow ced the apple on the left me, the feather on the right me, then stepped back to the circle that denoted the supplicant. He took one golden drax and thirteen silver serpens, poured them into the offering bowl.

    He took a breath.

    He''d only done this in Zushkenar, never in the game.

    <strong>[Tnweth gidon¡­]</strong>

    The mes reared high at the first words, covering the sacrifices.

    Huh.

    That hadn''t happened before. Rends definitely had more deliberate special effects. He filled his lungs and restarted, rolling the words off his tongue, letting the wordsunch themselves into the air with his breath.

    <strong>[Tnweth gidon, Cioth karhan adon]</strong>

    <strong>[Urkameth siethanwe djaren siddath, mur siddath urkkath]</strong>

    <strong>[Oth-aval, Tnweth, dur bredthen dath s Krow]</strong>

    <strong>[Japuri ben kathra, ben har, ovan sieth Bethal!]</strong>

    The mes burned gold, then died down. The feather and apple disappeared with the ze.

    "Excellent sess." The docent looked surprised. "There are usually red shadows in the me."

    Krow shrugged.

    Premium perk?

    He thought he''d run out of those by now.

    The docent smiled a little. "Good pronunciation. Very soulful."

    "That was how the old man always said it!"

    "I see. It''s an old technique, for memorization, to half-sing the words. Young Sein, did you hear?"

    Sein nodded, the seriousness of his expression diminished by the fact that he was all but bouncing on his toes with anticipation.

    Really? He''d learned the Grenod Temple Chant first, after all.

    He stepped toward the altar to take the results. The Traveler Pack was still ck, but now had fittings colored matte gold. It looked a little bit more durable than before.

    [Starseeker Travelpack]

    [Lvl 3/80]

    [Quality: B][Rare]

    Hah! Krow whooped internally in glee.

    It really was a levble item.

    He had a real, actual Levble Item in his hands.

    Krow knew his information was true and legitimate. He''d seen a few Starseeker items in Zushkenar, which is why he bought those crates of Traveler items, but still¡­it was different having a tangible Levble Item in his possession.

    Crafted items in Rends and Zushkenar were Upgradable.

    But most were definitely not Levble.

    It was a property that, in Rends, was only inherent in objects that had the word ''star'' in the title. And as far as Krow knew, only Starfall items which were starting gear, and Starseeker items which were only avable in starting viges, had the option.

    He had a suspicion that any items made of starweave cloth would also be levble.

    He equipped the upgraded Travelpack.

    [Congrattions! You have connected a Spirit-Bound Bag to your Inventory! You are allowed to connect three (3) Bags to your Inventory space.]

    A set of Slotsbeled ''Bag'' were added to his Inventory. It was only sixteen slots, but the 70 starting slots of his avatar Inventory were already three-quarters filled.

    A smile stretched across his face.

    It wasn''t expanded storage. It could only take items under a certain size limit.

    But it was added storage space. And it was levble.

    He turned to grin at Sein. "Ready?"

    The boy nodded, determined. He took the coins and sacrifices that Krow handed him ¨C the same rarity and quality of items, and the second [Starseeker Traveler Pack].

    The docent lit the mes again, with a wave of his hand and a single Word.

    Sein stepped forward. The careful way he followed Krow''s earlier movements exactly, gave him an air of cuteness he''d never admit to at his age.

    <strong>[Tnweth gidon, Ciothkar¡­Cioth karhan adon]</strong>

    He inhaled, then said the next lines slowly, brows crinkling as he recited, trying to infuse the proper tone to the words.

    <strong>[Urk¡­urkameth siethanwe djaren siddath, mur siddath urkkath]</strong>

    <strong>[Oth-aval, Tnweth, dur bredthen dath Seinalt Garvan al Trech-kedau]</strong>

    <strong>[Japuri ben kathra, ben har, ovan sieth Bethal!]</strong>

    The mes burned gold, same as Krow''s. They died down, sacrifices nowhere to be seen.

    They smiled at the kid when he whooped and ran to the altar.

    It was the same.

    [Starseeker Travelpack]

    [Lvl 2/80]

    [Quality: B][Rare]

    "Excellent sess, also," the docent murmured.

    Sein beamed.

    "Do you know why?"

    Krow had no answer. Sein shook his head, eyes widening expectantly.

    "I expect, you gathered the primary sacrifice material yourselves. To have suffered for a sacrifice, the ritual is stronger." The docent frowned. "I do not know what to think of your rashness, however, as I understand that you both have faced a condorowl in a death fight for those feathers?"

    Sein''s eyes widened. "It was an ident!"

    Einel, who''d been chilling nearby, leaning on a pir, made herself known by a soft clearing of her throat. "Is it done?"

    Sein ran to her side, showing her the travelpack. "I can take more things with me now!"

    Einel subtly sent Krow an using look.

    Alright, maybe he suspected that the kid had a penchant for running into trouble, mostly by running directly at it. But a bag would just give him room for a bigger survival kit until he earned his expanded storage, right?

    "Father would speak to you before we leave," she only said.

    That meant she agreed with him.

    He grinned.

    Maybe she was evening to view him as a possible friend!

    He nced at her, then immediately reconsidered that thought.

    The docent put away the ritual tools. "You are not leaving with the caravan?"

    "We are going in different directions, I think." Krow was fairly certain, from the riders'' gossip, the caravan was going to Velkenbragg, then over the mountains to Gulmenel.

    Sein skipped over to them, proudly wearing his new travelpack. "What does it mean, the Chant?"

    The docent smiled gently at him. "The first line is a hailing, indicating understanding of Tnweth''s role in the cosmos. The second¡­hm, it reflects the manner of ritual you perform. The third line is a statement of self, a glorifying; and thest is a humbling. The understanding is different, for different people. There are many interpretations."

    It was a made-upnguage, the Blessed Words used in all the Temple Chants. The actual official trantions were never released.

    But there had been a yer contest for best unofficial trantion of several Chants, sponsored by RSI. Krow''s favorite wasn''t the one that won, not even in the top ten.

    It didn''t receive a prize, but something about it caught his eye.

    -

    <em>Tnweth, of flowing greatness, who watches over the soul of Creation,</em>

    <em>The powers of the world are bound in your eyes, as I am bound to the world.</em>

    <em>I greet you, Tnweth, in the name of s Krow,</em>

    <em>Born with a heart free, a soul pure, under the gaze of the Divines!</em>

    -

    It was the only one of six in the top hundred entries that didn''t directly promise worship.

    *

    Krow realized he forgot to do one thing they walked out of the Temple.

    He leaned down slightly.

    "This Starseeker Travelpack is a bit special..."

    Sein looked at him, confused.

    "What?"

    "If it wasn''t special, why would you spirit-bind it?" The kid said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

    "¡­anyway, it''ll grow tougher and more magical as you grow in strength and age. By the time you''re as old as I am, you could probably enchant it with expanded storage. So take care of it, alright?"

    "Really?" Sein thrilled, then eyed Krow and deted. "You''re already so old though¡­I have to wait that long?"

    "Brat, I''m very young."

    In draculkar terms, thirty-five was barely out of human-equivalent teens!

    "If you say so."

 Chapter 38 - Last Meal

    Krow was surprised that Harnalt wanted to meet in a tower, a restaurant.

    Again, between them,y an array of fingerfoods and tea.

    "I have heard your exploits at the Temple." Harnalt shook his head. "Do you make a habit of throwing yourself into danger for strangers?"

    That was urate as far as quests went, actually.

    So it wasn''t his fault, it was a game thing.

    "News travels fast." Krow snapped up a cannoli-based pastry, crunching into it. He was gratified to find bits of bacon mixed with the creamy stuffing.

    "Difficult not to, when one''s own children tangle withw enforcement. Try the torch-seared tuna; I hear it''s one of the best that this ce serves. Very smoky."

    They ate, speaking sparingly.

    It wasn''t long before Harnalt broached the topic he called Krow for.

    "We have never been fond of outsiders," he murmured. "And yet, you have done me and mine a great kindness. There is no reward that can bnce the life of a child. Were you of the blood, this may have been easier, to offer you a ce in the caravan, a role in the n.

    But you have ns, that I can see clearly, and we have obligations ¨C the two, I think, do not at this time correspond. Therefore, this I must ask, is there anything you wish to ask of the n?"

    Krow had been thinking about this since Bassalt had implied they were signed to the Trade Covenants.

    He didn''t hesitate. "Would you consider writing me a letter of introduction? To the auctionhouse, if possible."

    "Certainly."

    "I realize this is¡­eh, you will?"

    "It''s only an introduction."

    Krow must have rolled high persuasion inadvertently. He smiled. "Great, thanks!"

    He''d been fairly certain Harnalt would agree, but not without some coaxing. It was, after all, a near-stranger asking if he could trade on Harnalt''s reputation. The guy had the caravan and his n to consider. That he agreed immediately was a relief.

    A Letter of Introduction from a member of the Covenant would save him so much work.

    Nyurajke was only a pit-stop.

    Krow didn''t want to stay long.

    Harnalt, across the table, eyed him silently for a long moment. "That''s¡­it?"

    Krow nodded, munched happily on some chestnuts.

    So much time saved!

    Harnalt shook his head, but brought out paper, ink, and pen. He nudged a few bowls closer to Krow.

    His stat gain, Krow wanted to huff loudly at the other, was actually faster than his first ythrough. This draculkar body was naturally lean, thanks. He didn''t need to be fed.

    He stayed silent though, and turned to the window instead, reaching for a bunch of grapes.

    The vista that stretched out before him was breath-taking. Mist-faded peaks, purple and pink leafed trees, deep waterfalls in the far distance.

    What could be expected, of a world created with emphasis to aesthetic.

    Still. Not even in Zushkenar had he seen anything like it.

    Shops in the londs didn''t quite have the elevated views of draculkar tower balcony restaurants. And on Earth, restaurants built on high floors with such views were out of his price range.

    He watched thezy dancing swirls of the windmill shadows y on the stair railings and delicate bridges between the towers below.

    The noise of people going about the business of living was muted here, blown away by the high breezes.

    There were still crowds around the streets and viaducts, rushing from ce to ce, slowly strolling,ughing and talking, leading animals, racing carts.

    But Krow couldn''t hear, like watching a silent art movie with just wordless instrumental music and the low humming of white noise to rify what was going on.

    Rxing.

    Harnalt capped his pen, finally, the click of it distinct in the quiet.

    He flicked a finger, and a stamp appeared in his hand that he pressed onto the paper. A brief glow lit the junction where paper and stamp met, then spread to the edges of the letter.

    "I have some understanding with a manager at Orddet''s." He folded the letter neatly and sealed it. "She should have what you need."

    He dashed a name and address against the outside of the letter with a flourish and held it out to Krow.

    Krow could just see ''Orddet''s Auctions, Sales, and Trades'' on one line and ''Nyurajke Town'' below it.

    [You''ve acquired Trader''s Letter of Introduction!]

    "Thank you. You''ve no idea how much I appreciate it."

    His first ythrough, entry into Orddet''s, the system marketce, needed at least 100 RP with the town or city. That or a Letter of Introduction from a signatory of the Trade Covenants.

    He remembered it, that minor trivia from that time, because he spent one whole in-game week doing chores for people in urel Town while getting challenged to battle left and right as he tried to do his quests in the surrounding area.

    He''d won some, lost a lot, came out of the experience a better fighter, but so frustrated at the game ¨C the only reason he stuck around was that yers weremon in news and online shvids showing off their Rends earnings.

    An elite yer in the Rends of a year''s time, the top 100,000 yers, could earn 1000 drax per day in the game, just by ying the game.

    That was 60,000 drax a month, or 600 ecru ¨C slightly less than Eli''s sry before getting fired.

    It was enough for a small family''s living expenses.

    Eli''s current monthly budget was 80 ecru for food and BrainZip packs, 30 ecru for electricity, and the remaining 10 for water, connection, and others ¨C 120 or so ecru a month. If he paid rent on the apartment, that would add another 120 ecru or so to his expenses.

    Then there was the RedVisor vidportal.

    Just six months after the Masters of War expansion was released, the best 360* RedVisor videos ofbat maneuvers were already garnering 100M views and making money as steadily as a queen antid eggs. Even the not-so-famous channels earned 2000-3500 ecru a month; enough to live not in luxury but infortable circumstances.

    All that, and the top 100 yers gaining sponsorships thatted them hundreds of thousands to millions per year just stoked the mes.

    In fact, even top 500 ranked yers got invited to speak or emcee at conventions, or contracted for voice-actor work and film scenes.

    Rends was such a rich mine that yers didn''t even need to gain top rankings to earn impressive loads of cash. Some art and music-inclined yers got together with friends to form a guild not for battling but to film short fantasy movies and music videos.

    The Rends Virtual Actor''s and Entertainer''s Guild had been massively popr, inducing RSI to start investing in Rends-based film and entertainment right before the Quake.

    It would have sparked a VR-based entertainment renaissance to bolster the gging non-interactive media entertainment industry, probably.

    That amount of exposure, who would not want to grab a te at the feast?

    Unfortunately, him of the past had caught that wavete.

    Toote to ride the gentle swell of the tide.

    He''d joined at a time that the wave was bing a tsunami, already difficult to control.

    The sound of wood sliding against stone brought Krow back to the present. He''d been absent-mindedly rolling a piee of fire chestnut against his fingertips, only realizing when he refocused on Harnalt.

    "Oh. Sorry."

    "You seem to be a young man with tribtions older than you are, Krow."

    He hacked augh.

    "Oh. Oh, that''s not¡­" He struggled to finish that sentence, failed, and turned his attention to the in case, simr in size to a shoebox, that had been ced before him instead. "What is it?"

    "I expected you to ask for it, really." Harnalt gave a wry smile. "Who''d have guessed you only wanted a personal favor from me?"

    Krow arched his brows. "Only?"

    A Trade n caravan leader would say ''only'' when referring to the importance of safeguarding his n''s reputation?

    Harnalt chuckled, wrinkles in the dark skin of his face showing lines of humor that had been carved over years ofughter and smiles.

    "Give a father some pride. Since my sister died, Seinalt has been my son as much as Einel is my daughter." He smirked at Krow, nodded at the box. "This is a treasure of the Garvan n. I know Sein told you about it."

    Krow frowned. "Sein told me little, nothing that wouldpromise you. Why would he tell me about a n treasure?"

    The smirk widened. "You asked."

    Krow''s confusion turned into irritation. Was this a trap? Trade n gifts were often dangerous double-ded swords. Was this another like those Mainomai something Earrings?

    "I know enough of your people to understand that I''d die if¡­if¡­"

    The memory of facing the parent condorowl surfaced in the fore of his mind.

    Shkav.

    He''d asked if¡­

    No way.

    He stared at the box. "And you''re just giving it to me?"

    The smirk turned smug. "Like you just gave Sein an item made from a legendary material? Thought you could hide that?"

    "That is not <em>this</em>." Krow hissed the words as he gestured at the box sitting innocently on the table.

    "It''s a copy."

    A copy? Oh sure, like that''s better. Does it change that he was <em>giving Krow a rank-six movement spell</em>!?

    Movement spells were rare.

    They cost more than other spells of the same rank. There were hundreds of Protection Spells, hundreds of Combat Spells, thousands of Utility Spells. But Movement Spells, there were not more than 20 initial spells.

    It was surprising enough that failed-robber-guy had one of the three rank-two movement spells in the game, so early. Now there was suddenly a rank-six?!

    Also, he''d actually forgotten Sein mentioned it!

    In a year, before the Quake, a rank-six movement spell like the Stormglide Steps would sell for 100,000-150,000 drax.

    Now, it was worth hugely more than that, because other movement spells hadn''t been discovered yet!

    Harnalt''s face fell. "You refuse? I see."

    He reached for the box.

    Krow grabbed it before therge bark-patterned hand could touch it.

    [You''ve acquired 1 Movement Spell Scroll!]

    His quick action left that hand hanging in mid-air over an empty stone table surface as Krow cuddled the box to his chest.

    Harnalt stared, amused.

    Krow cleared his throat, stated with as much dignity as he could, "If you insist, it would of course be rude to refuse."

    "Good," Harnalt gave a small grin.

    Then his face slowly congealed into hard lines, eyes growing cold, and grin widening to show white sharp teeth. "I would''ve been uneasy, you see, if someone held such a debt over my family and refused to let me ameliorate it. I have arge heart for my people, they say, but no heart in this world is sorge as to bear a debt that refuses to be paid."

    Krow subtly leaned back.

    Whoa.

    The murder-face was gic?!

    He should''ve known.

    Cute, mischievous Sein, you''re doomed to this being your final form?! Your future isn''t cute and fluffy at all!

    That''s probably not what Krow should be thinking when pinned to his seat by those eyes.

    Oh well, if Sein became an Archaeologist, the icy-death murder-eyes would only help, for sure.

    "You understand, of course," Harnalt asked.

    "...inescapably."

    "I''m happy to know Sein makes smart friends." The gentle eyes and marks ofugh-lines returned.

    Krow hadn''t even known he''d tensed until he felt himself rx.

    Weeping skies.

    Scary.

    "Between you and I," Harnalt ended, "let there be no debts."

    It was not long after, that Harnalt left.

    Krow, from the caf¨¦ balcony, watched him exit the tower at street level, moving to where the caravan was already passing through Nyurajke.

    Huh, impable coordination.

    A small figure waved from a horse, arm making great arcs.

    Krow lifted his hand in response, wishful thinking with how distant they were, until the caravan disappeared behind the towers.

    A brief image of an impressively-muscled Harnalt look-alike with that puppy-excited demeanor, wearing the gold and ck travelpack, suddenly shed through his mind.

    ¡­nope.

    He buried his expression in a teacup, draining it.

    "Young one," came a voice behind him, where the entryway was. "the reservation of this balcony is closing in three minutes. That would be seven drax, six serpens."

    Krow''s face contorted.

    He set his cup down gently.

    He red in the direction of the caravan. In the distance, he could almost see the leader smirking at him.

    No debts between us. Right.

    *

    Krow rented a room for one night in the merchant district, before taking the viaduct to Orddet''s.

    The game marketce was the one mechanic that survived the transmigration more or less intact, including the holo-interface where the merchandise could be examined. A ce that sold bulk more often than not, mingling NPC and yer goods to create the best quality consignments at the best value.

    He sat down in the chair the tight-jacketed assistant had led him to, met the eyes of the spectacled draculkar behind the desk.

    "I''d like to open an ount."

 Chapter 39 - Orddets (1)

    The draculkar frowned, the movement of her face as delicate as the darkce that bound her palevender throat. "I do not know you."

    "Krow. We don''t know each other, no." He tapped the Letter of Introduction on the surface of the desk, slid it over. "If this is not you, then I apologize for the mistake, and ask to be pointed in her direction."

    On the letter was written, in bold handwriting: Yhnve bal Arveris, Manager. Orddet''s Auctions, Sales, and Trades. Nyurajke Town.

    The draculkar considered her name on the letter, before picking it up and flipping it to examine the seal. A small surprise shed across her eyes. She blinked slowly, face returning to the natural expressionlessness, and reached for an ornate letter opener.

    As she moved, the shed sleeves of her darkly midnight-green coat parted to reveal a deep plum-colored silk lining, like a bloody carnivorous flower suddenly opening.

    Krow looked around the office.

    For someone who wore Xandecan Lace and coats made with silk and moss-ibex hide, the office was almost austere.

    The bank of floor to ceiling windows that he now knew was amon draculkar architectural feature was draped in thick embroidered cloth, limiting the light within the office.

    There was a single painting on the wall opposite the windows, a riot of brushstrokes in shades of red and purple.

    The rest of the walls were empty. There was a coiling metal thing in the corner, holding several books and a single flowerpot.

    The patterned stone floor had no rugs or carpets. The desk contained paperwork, with only a few ivory paperweights carved in the image of sleeping dragons.

    Or maybe the word was ''bare''?

    Possibly Harnalt''s friend was just promoted.

    "This letter is very curious." Yhnve had put down the letter, and was studying Krow contemtively.

    "Is it?" What exactly had that Harnalt put in his introduction?

    Yhnve didn''t answer, just started gathering paperwork from various drawers of her massive desk. "I can open a kingdom ount for you. If you require entry into the Bourse, it must needs be of your own merit. I cannot help you there."

    What?

    What had Harnalt written.

    Krow was expecting to have to pay a premium for the kingdom catalogue.

    There were three trade and auction tiers at Orddet''s.

    The first was the Local Catalogue, which offered products from just the town or city the yer was in. The second was the Kingdom Catalogue, which covered the whole of the country the town was in, and the third was the Infinite Realm Bourse, which covered the whole game map.

    The first ount essed by having 100 RP with the town was the Local Catalogue. To ess the Kingdom Catalogue, one has to buy and sell at least 10 drax worth of items. That was the equivalent of 250 serpens ¨C with the amount of quests needed to gain 100 RP, a yer was sure to have at least that much.

    "A kingdom ount is more than enough, thank you."

    Yhnvar nodded. She ced a stack of paper and a penbox before Krow. "This is the ount contract, and below it is the agreement for the post-vault thates with an ount at Orddet''s. You may choose not sign the second. But you''d need to provide an address to the seller of the items that need to be delivered."

    Krow wanted one, of course. A post-vault was just that, a ce to store the items an ount-holder acquired from the Catalogues.

    It also functioned as an anonymous mailing address.

    She opened the penbox, removed the stylus and a ss vial with a clear liquid inside. She uncapped both, dipped the stylus in the clear liquid of the vial. She disyed the clear liquid before offering the stylus to him. "We use the highest security contract styli here. I assure you, they are swept of magic traces before and after."

    Krow signed.

    The stylus used blood, the deep red color shing across as he signatured the two documents.

    "I shall get you one of our Bronze Trade Tokens and we shall be done." She stood.

    "A Silver Token please. I can pay the difference. And a portable tradebook."

    The manager barely paused, even as she nced at him curiously. "We do not often get requests for tradebooks here."

    "I''m a traveler. A precaution only."

    "Of course." She stepped to arge ornate chest kept in an alcove behind her desk. The glow of security measures slowly wended through the ebony lines that crisscrossed the surface of the chest in swirls and spirals.

    It was a slow sixty seconds before the chest clicked open. A warning and a demonstration of the strength of Orddet''s security.

    She removed a red box with silver detailing, closed the chest again.

    "Our ount tokens are bloodbound, of course, that others could not use them. Please touch the stylus to the indicated ces on the token. The trade token will contain the record of your transactions, private to all but you."

    "Not even you, who opened the ount?"

    [You''ve acquired one (1) Orddet''s Trade Token (Silver)!]

    "Correct." She sat back down. "A recement token, as well as the restoration of your records, would cost a fee of 5000 drax. I suggest you keep the token secure."

    She dipped the stylus in the vial again, turning the clear liquid ck. She dropped everything into the box. "The sweeping solution destroys both your blood and the stylus. You may take it with you, it''s trash at this point."

    Krow shrugged and tossed the whole thing into his Inventory.

    Yhnve nodded. "The initial deposit, as this is a kingdom ount, needs no less than 100 drax."

    "You''ll need a coinbox," Krow mentioned.

    Obligingly, she removed one from a drawer.

    Krow started dumping coinbags into the box.

    She took his documents, stamped several pages. When she looked up, Krow still wasn''t finished.

    The bags that the Inventory created for coins had a 10,000 drax limit.

    She slowly sat back in her chair.

    When he finally stopped, she noted down the number with only a briefly lifted brow, and slotted Krow''s token into the cover of the coinbox, making the whole thing glow.

    She detached a single page from the pile of documents, which she ced in a document sleeve and offered to Krow with his token. "The Tradebook will take longer, no more than a quarter-hour. As a Silver Token holder, you are free to use any of our private rooms to conduct your business. May I guide you to one?"

    "Let''s go."

    Yhnve led him through Orddet''s, past the cubicles used by those with bronze tokens, to a high gallery of curtained doorways.

    "I confess to a curiosity." She swept back the portiere to admit them into a small room. "Harnalt Garvan is difficult to get to know at the best of times. How did you meet?"

    "Nothing too interesting. I helped them find a lost kid."

    Yhnve''s brow arched a bit, her thin lips curved. "I see."

    She walked to the carved Mazarin-style heavy desk in the center of the room. "If you wish to open your ount, just slot your token into any of the four terminals in this desk."

    Krow nodded, knowing that.

    "I will return in ten minutes. May your first visit to Orddet''s be fruitful."

    "I intend it to be." He held the portiere open as she left, taking a moment to nce outside.

    Dropping the curtain, and watching as sigils lit up on its hems, ensuring that the room stayed private to all unauthorized, he sighed.

    He might be dressed more like a civilian than a yer, but he''d still felt stares on his back as he was led here.

    Even with his status and info set to private, most yers only turned off the option to differentiate between NPC civvies and yerster, since by default it was on.

    Krow really didn''t want to be mugged.

    There were yers that did that to others who looked like they might have found interesting quests or looked rich, like being escorted to another level of the building by a manager when most other yers were using the cubicles.

    He walked to the table and sank into one of the armchairs.

    The room wasn''t extravagant. An unlit firece in the corner, an assortment of readingmps on the mantel. Then a collection offortable armchairs and small end-tables around a hefty carved and iid desk with four equally-spaced recessed circles on the surface ¨C one on each side.

    Krow opened his ount.

    Loading it with 250,000 drax left him with just 73,000 in his inventory.

    Weeping skies, he''d spent 57k on stuff already?

    Why did it feel like he hardly bought anything at all?

    "I feel like one of those second-generation-rich brats."

    He leaned back into the ergonomically-cushioned back of his armchair.

    Hey, did they have ergonomics in medieval times, or whatever faux time-era the game-makers set the game in?

    Krow shook his head of suddenly inane thoughts.

    Focus.

    There were three major things he wanted today: armor, Spells, MND essories.

    Oh, and a mask.

    Four things.

    Predictably, the MND items were overpriced. He groaned at seeing that the best offering on the kingdom markets was a ne with +5 MND posted at 35,000 drax.

    Too expensive by half.

    It wasn''t even pretty.

    He crossed his arms. He''d quest for a wearable MND essory; he just didn''t know any quests from thest time.

    Tsk.

    The selection would probably be greater in the Bourse. The requirement to ess the Infinity Catalogue was to buy/sell at least 50,000 drax worth of items.

    "Armor," he ordered the terminal.

    The holo listed everything from helms to sabatons, arranged by most recently posted.

    "Light armor," he corrected himself. "Add Enchanted. Remove items under Rare. Remove items under C-quality. Add water element, shadow element, faunal element, stone element, metal element."

    Those were the basic elements that had synergy with his Shadow affinity.

    In theory, anyway. Bncing armor pieces was another matter. They were made by different people. They could have conflicting advantages. And even if they werepatible to Shadow, they weren''t alwayspatible to each other.

    Sometimes you could tell by the names of the items.

    There were armor and weapon sets, after all.

    The best thing would be if he could work with an Armorer, with him as Enchanter partner. But that was for the future.

    He gestured a pair of vambraces toward him, erging them to life-size.

    [Exiled Seafarer''s Bracers]

    [Quality: B] [Rare]

    [Element: Water]

    [''What horror could the horizon be,

    ''When my soul, my heart, is parted ever from me?

    ''When thou and I could never be,

    ''When what I did, I did all for thee?'']

    [Gives 2x damage from projectile weapons every 5th projectile. May increase chance of ranged critical attacks. +20% DEX]

    [Defense Multiplier: .1]

    [Damage Reduction: 5%]

    [Weight: .3kg each]

    [Durability (2/3): 126 ]

    [Element Interactions:

    -Fire: -8/10

    -Water: 0/10

    -Air: 2/10

    -Floral: 0/10

    -Faunal: 0/10

    -Stone: -3/10

    -Metal: -4/10

    -Lightning: 4/10

    -Light: 0/10

    -Shadow: 6/10]

    [Cost: 45,000 drax]

    From the advantages alone, it was made for him.

    He reached into the holo, fitting the bracers onto his arms, testing weight and flexibility. He rolled his wrists, flexed the elbow joint.

    Eh, not bad.

    That price, though¡­

    He marked the item, cing it in his watchlist.

    He gestured it away, and wrinkled his brows at a leather pauldron-gorget set, which was shadow element. He leaned closer, twisting the virtual holo here and there ¨C there was something weird about it. He stood, increasing the holo-frame size.

    He undid the straps and was about to put the thing on, when he was suddenly back to the floating lists.

    The disy had changed.

    Uh?

    Oh, he''d gestured one of the controls, changing the search filters.

    What was showing now was a lot of¡­shirts? How were these armor?

    Krow''s eyes widened. He leaned closer to one of the lists, eyes suddenly intent.

    A slightly feral smile took over his face.

    "I need a warehouse."

 Chapter 40 - Orddets (2 Of 2)

    Rends didn''t havend ownership.

    Not for another six months, anyway. Most yers rented and leased.

    But there were two buildings that were the exception: a warehouse, a workshop. They were currently the only two properties avable for yer sale and purchase.

    Krow tapped and flicked at theyers of items he was now going through.

    Starfall Tunic. Starfall Trousers.

    Of all the things to sell, why the ones that didn''t take up an equip slot?

    New yers were that hard up for money?

    There weren''t a lot; maybe a dozen on the kingdom market all told, selling for 3-10 drax.

    Of course no one bought.

    The top yers were barely earning 50 drax a day at this point.

    He gestured the [Exiled Seafarer''s Bracers] closer, bought it.

    45k drax. He now needed 5k more to gain ess to the Bourse, the Infinity Catalogue.

    Who knew how many yers in the whole of Rends were even now throwing away their starting gear?

    "Weapons. Add Starfall gear."

    Weapon after weapon appeared in the holoframe.

    Whoa.

    Of the draculkar yers alone, there were hundreds recing their starting weapons and selling them.

    Enchantable, levble weapons, hundreds of them, from various battlesses.

    Most costing less than twenty drax each.

    Even at those prices people currently thought it was extortionate. Who''d buy starting gear? Only a fool.

    He nced at his post-vault, grimaced. As a Silver Token member of Orddet''s, he had 500 slots. Unfortunately, they didn''t stack items.

    How many towns and cities were there in the draculkar kingdom, anyway? Maybe if he bought enough, every town would pile the items in crates rather than individual packages before delivering to Krow''s trade-vault?

    Kingdom ounts had to deal with delivery fees, so he reserved 10,000 drax for that.

    Then set up public buy-orders for every Starfall weapon and item possible. The Orddet''s branches in various locations would gather the items to fill the buy-orders before delivering.

    A couple thousand of the things would only make a semi-massive dent in his current budget. Less by far than the Bracer''s cost anyway.

    When Yhnve entered the room with a soft knock, Krow was standing, his arms crossed, and watching as yers lowered their prices to match the public buy-orders that had been announced to the kingdom catalogue.

    He''d qualified for the Infinity Catalogue and the Bourse already, as four hundred items and rising were earmarked for him by the system.

    There were so many that he''d transferred 1000 ecru from his living expenses to support the order. That was another 100,000 drax.

    It felt a little like excitement, a little like disbelief, as he watched the numbers rise.

    It felt like, what was he doing?

    He wasn''t nning on learning Enchantment for at least two months. He also needed ethermica cubes or ethermica dust to level up an item without spirit-binding it.

    Ethermica, a crystalline material colored ice-blue andvender, currently, went by 10 drax per fist-sized cube in the Bourse. He had buy-orders for that too.

    He was pouring out cash by the buckets for this, and wouldn''t see profit for months on months.

    Not to mention, his living expenses budget was now down to the 600 ecru or so that was his whole bank ount. That meant he''d need a realworld job in three months if his hunting couldn''t be profitable.

    He''d experienced something close to poverty.

    It couldn''t be called poverty, what with his refusal to sell the apartment he was still considered a property-owner.

    He''d nearly starved himself for that apartment, the memories within. Even preserving the shkav-ridden furniture!

    Obsessed with the past.

    He never wanted to be that close to starving again.

    But these numbers¡­.

    Now he was seemingly throwing away everything. His fingers drummed agitatedly on his crossed arm, eyes a little frenzied behind the nkness as he stared at the orders that were filling, the numbers that were ticking down.

    He probably should look away. Armor. He should check the armors again, now that he had a greater selection in the Bourse. The essories and Spells too.

    He couldn''t look away.

    "I have your Tradebook." There was something odd in Yhnve''s measured tone. rm? Concern?

    Who would know, her face was as ever like stone.

    "Thanks," Krow mentally gripped his thundering heart, ordering it to calm down, and prodded his brain into working. Space! That''s right, he needed space. "Orddet''s doesn''t sell deeds?"

    "We can assess property, and yes, we handle deeds." She ced the Tradebook on an end-table near the door. Not moving closer. "But here, by the Cyzar''sws we can''t deal in property sales. You''ll have to check the Kingdom Realty for that."

    He blinked. "What?"

    That was a thing? He knew he bought his first warehouse in Zushkenar off the Catalogues. But the local markets here in Nyurajke didn''t have the familiar roster of deeds.

    "The Cyzar likes to keep hisnds in draculkar hands." An unreadable smile briefly curved Yhnve''s lips. "And Orddet''s is not a draculkar business, as it has its roots in several other nations. The Kingdom Realty is the only public agency allowed to buy and sell property in the Cyzar''s domain. Private sales and transfers of deeds are of course allowed, provided the buyer is draculkar. Only the low bordends can be sold in freehold to outsiders."

    What.

    Okay, there was obviously something he was missing.

    He remembered very clearly Gojo saying he sold his city estate to a crazy mafmet before he then bunked from the draculkar hignds entirely. One of the rare few moments where there was time toze about, and people were telling stories in the dying light of afternoon.

    There were no draculkar cities in the bordends.

    This was true in both game and game-made-real.

    Obviously there were differences between the game and real Zushkenar.

    How much of his memories were actually applicable to Rends?

    He nced at the holo, anxiety again threatening to overwhelm.

    He breathed slowly, rhythmically.

    "Thanks for the rification," he forced a smile at Yhnve. "I suppose I''ll return here to sign something designating which warehouse to take the vault overflow?"

    "You can do that by entering the warehouse number and address into your records using any terminal."

    Krow nced at the tradebook. "Speaking of which¡­"

    "In all, 1500 drax will take care of everything."

    Ah, there was the gouging he expected. He only paid 100 drax to upgrade his Bronze Token before. And a tradebook¡­actually he bought an old one from Craftmaster Ortholian.

    It was easier to earn money in Rends.

    He paid.

    "If there is nothing else?"

    Krow shook his head.

    "It is my understanding that you''ve not been in Nyurajke long."

    "Not two hours."

    "Then I wonder. You seem to have made yourself interesting to someone." Yhnve bowed briefly. "Wee to Orddet''s, s Krow. May we prosper eternal."

    The portiere dropped as she left, the embroidered cloth swayed slightly before stilling from the activation of the security measures.

    Krow walked to the doorway, his fingers touching the cloth softened it again. Boldly, he walked out, stretched imaginary kinks in his muscles, turning this way and that with brief calisthenics.

    Aha, yes, there were a couple of people eyeing him. There was only calction in their gazes. Before they could move, Krow finished twisting his waist here and there, and returned to the private room casually.

    They were loitering at all ess points to the gallery.

    He had a feeling he''d be tailed to his visiting-house.

    He already knew something like this could happen, but Yhnve''s warning was appreciated.

    Krow took up the Tradebook as he passed.

    Tradebooks were portable trade terminals. They weren''t ''books'' precisely, but a metal and crystal tablet protected by a book-like cover.

    He opened the Tradebook. It was a single b, with a recessed area for the Trade Token.

    He ced it in his Inventory.

    He waved away the buy-orders, leaving them to continue running in a corner. He''d capped their allocated funds at 100,000 drax in any case.

    Because of Stormglide, his MND was in fact the most important. As a rank-six spell, it needed at least 500MP to activate.

    He only had half that, with 19 MND.

    Krow eyed the items in the holo, face slowly falling.

    To have 500MP at his level, he needed 41 MND.

    With an Aptitude of 11, that was still lower than what others needed to gain 500MP.

    But still!

    With the cheapest +12 MND item in the Bourse costing 85,000 drax, he''d spend practically all his game money just for Stormglide!

    What about his armor and Spells?

    Gah.

    This was like being gifted a car, then realizing your license expired five years ago and then being told at the licensing office that there''d been new policy and roadws since then, and because of that you need to retake driving lessons, both theory and practical, for three months. Of course, you had to pay for everything yourself.

    Krow exhaled a long breath.

    Cars were really expensive, huh?

    The cheapest +12 MND item was [Whisker Ne]. It was cheaper by 20,000 drax from the next cheapest MND item. Krow suspected it was because it was¡­well, it was ugly.

    He test-equipped it.

    A life-size figure of him appeared in the holo, feet and thighs sunk into the table surface.

    Krowughed at the bursting mass of bristling hair around his neck, like he had a gristled white beard on his jawline and hair was growing out of his neck.

    Horrifying.

    It didn''t go with the lean youthfulness of his draculkar avatar at all.

    He gestured to a mask he had on watchlist and added it to the test-equip holo.

    Not very much changed. But at least this way, people didn''t know the face of the person who''d wear bushy scraggy hair under his chin?

    He spied a gorget-ne, one of therger ones.

    Hm.

    He added it, curious.

    A smirk grew under the mask. That didn''t look so bad, actually. The gorget hid some of the lower neck hair.

    If he added a particr style of studded leather pauldrons, ones that wereyered and bulked a bit higher at the neckline¡­he took a random set from his watchlist.

    He grinned. It looked like he was wearing furry armor instead of a beard.

    The white even went with his gloves

    He tilted his neck side to side, up and down.

    Not bad?

    Eh, who cared.

    Did he join this game for a beauty contest?

    He waved everything away, and decisively bought the [Whisker Ne].

    He also bought a gorget ne in dark grey and white. No armor capability, but with a pretty nice HP recovery.

    Add his watchlisted [Dusk Illusion Mask Earclips] and just those three items was 100k down.

    He had to look a little harder to find a pauldron set he could buy, but soon the grade A+ Rare [Lightless Kraken-skin Pauldrons] joined his soon-to-be armor set at the cost of 58k drax. It was a shadow item, which was all the better.

    The moonlight pearl iys that ented the pauldrons were concerning, but Krow didn''t worry about it long since the pauldrons were ssed as stealth equipment.

    Whoever made the water-aligned [Seeping Coral Greaves] was kind enough to include knee protection.

    He got the air-aligned [Mindyer''s Belt] for its MP-recovery and floral-aligned [Bonewood Gauntlets] to rece the [gue Doctor''s Gauntlets] he was still wearing. The new gauntlets were white, which he only realized after buying them for the +6 VIT.

    After those purchases, Krow had to replenish his ount with drax from his inventory to buy the [Firecoil Spell Scroll] [3 Rank], [Double Jump Spell Scroll] [2 Rank], and the [Shadowbind Spell Scroll][3 Rank] ¨C all costing a total of 28,000 drax.

    He wanted to buy [Shadowbind II Spell Scroll] [5 Rank], which was the mastery upgrade for the rank-three Shadowbind spell, but he now had less than 50k drax left for the warehouse.

    That had to be enough. A warehouse¡­.there was literally nothing in it, right?

    How could it be as expensive as armor?

    He retrieved his Silver Trade Token from the terminal, walked to the balcony and breathed.

    His items would take a day of delivery, ording to the system. As for the buy-orders, they''d keep buying until the 100,000 drax ran out.

    No need to stress for now.

    No stress at all.

    Krow breathed.

    He rested his arms on the balustrade, eyed the space below the balcony.

    Orddet''s was on the very edge of the floating tform. There was a hanging bridge that ran under said tform, and below that, about thirty meters below where he was, actual ground.

    Satisfied, he straightened, took out a grapple-hook, and vaulted into free fall.

    *

    End Chapter

    *

    Please don''t copy and post on other sites.

    . If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 41 - Between Two Worlds

    Krownded on the street, to the curses of people that had to swerve around him.

    "Sorry," he called out.

    He snapped the grapple line, dislodging the hook.

    As the rope piled beside him, he gestured the whole thing, plus the still-falling hook, into his Inventory.

    He jogged away from the scene.

    A reminder beeped, shing yellow at the edge of his vision. He nced at it.

    Oh. It was his 14-hour warning.

    That meant it was nearly six in the afternoon, realworld time. He looked around. It was mid-afternoon, in-game time¡­.maybe three p.m. or close.

    Krow headed for his rented room.

    The warehouse could wait until tomorrow.

    *

    Eli turned off the gentle rolling of the bio-cradle cushions, levered his body out of the seat.

    The wall said it was 5:48 p.m. November 5, 2095 and that it was expected to rain in thete night.

    He stretched, removed the intravenous band wrapped around his right arm, disconnected it from the ZombieFluid container on the bio-cradle, and dropped it into a disinfectant tub. He yawned, wrapped a disinfectant strip over the area covered earlier by the band.

    Other than a slight headache and minor kinks in his joints, he felt good.

    The whole gaming rig had cost more than he paid for the apartment. If his muscles were sore after that much, he''d definitely be mad.

    Eli changed into work-out clothes.

    Exercising was still¡­ugh. But he still went through his stretches, then jogged to the park to use the machines.

    This was his normal now: y Rends ¨C exercise and sleep ¨C y Rends ¨C shooting lessons he hadn''t been able to get out of and walking; he hadn''t been able to resist continuing his walks around the city ¨C then restart the cycle.

    It didn''t feel normal, really.

    It had been days as a routine. He should be used to it already, right?

    Maybe not.

    Maybe it was because he was dividing his time between two worlds?

    It felt surreal, moving between two worlds he knew existed.

    Even if at this point, one wasn''t as real as the other yet.

    It would be easier, he mused as he started jogging on the machine, to concentrate entirely on Rends. Just to live there and pretend it was real until it became real.

    It would be easier than the low ache of grief he felt at every new thing he learned about Greatcentral City. Every new thing that one day he would never see again.

    Yeah, he could just get food delivered and never step out of his apartment again.

    Eli was selfish though; he couldn''t, wouldn''t, let go of Earth.

    He wanted all of it ¨C this world and that world, this life and that life. All of it.

    An impossible dream, seeing as he gained one because the other was destroyed.

    At this point in time, his existence was almost perfect. He had Earth. He had a nearly true-to-life facsimile of Zushkenar.

    He had time and knowledge.

    He had a goal, and the framework of a n.

    Wasn''t he set?

    Eli didn''t like to think of the nightmares he had sometimes, of ying Rends and finding that he couldn''t log out, of walking the city and the streets turning into massive mouths full of teeth that swallowed him.

    Earth was his though. Earth was his, and he belonged to her. And if he only had her for a limited time, he shouldn''t hide away from her. He was hers as much as she was his.

    So he yed Rends and readied for a life in another world, because that was the path he chose. And he walked the city, taking cabs to further ces and walking from there, talking to random people and seeing random things ¨C because he chose that too.

    The other day, he came across a dog park and spontaneously got forced into ying race-tag with half-a-dozen canines of all sizes and colors.

    It was unexpectedly fun.

    Eli walked back to his apartment, the cool evening air soothing against his sweaty form, deep enough into his thoughts that he nearly walked into a bunch of street toughs half surrounding a single person.

    He rolled his eyes mentally.

    This was a public street. Most street-dogs were all bark.

    He stepped forward. "Hey!"

    The single figure turned his head.

    Oh, that was the craftmaster guy that was one of Zee''s HI friends.

    "Keep out of this, move along," one of the group separated and moved closer just to growl at Eli. "This is our street."

    Eli scoffed. "This isn''t District 16."

    Behind the one who imed this was their street, he could see the leader grab craftmaster-guy''s cor and tug.

    Before anyone could do anything else, the craftmaster exploded into a flurry of movement.

    Three seconds: four of the nine toughs were down. Four: the fifth and sixth joined them on the ground. Eli tripped the one near him trying to get into the fight. Five: they all ran away.

    Craftmaster-guy straightened his sleeves, turned to Eli. "Thanks, but I had it."

    Eli nodded, a little bit stunned. "Right."

    Why were everyone''s moves so much cooler than his?

    Even failed-robber-guy at Tnweth Temple! His moves might have been predictable, but he was relentless and almost utilitarian. Scare didn''t move like that when he was a Lvl 7.

    The other guy stepped closer.

    "I don''t suppose you know which building around here Arcazy Ventre lives? The address I was given says ''Rockastre Apartments'' and apparently all these buildings are¡­?"

    Oh, Eli knew why they stopped him now. The eyeshine of bio-infotech contact lenses was unmistakable. Someone who could afford that, you rarely see those walking around this neighborhood.

    Eli chuckled. "Rockastre Apartments is the whole block. The main one is called ''the Apartments'', the one right there. The one on the left with the faux-stone design is ''the Rocks''. The third is the Smalls. Don''t ask me why; it''s the biggest of the three. Come on."

    "I''m fine without an escort."

    "I live in the same building. Have for five years. I''m pretty sure half the people there don''t know Zee''s full name is Arcazy." Oh, he remembered now! "You''re Rashid, yes?"

    The other peered at him in surprise and wariness. Then his face cleared. "Oh. You''re¡­from the caf¨¦."

    "Eli Crewan. We should go. The streetdogs mighte back."

    White teeth shed as the other grinned. "I always appreciate the chance of vigorous exercise."

    He cracked augh. "I bet. Feel free. But, as you see, and smell probably, I already had my exercise for the day and I''m not looking to do more. Besides if you provoke them too much, they might just multiply. I''d rather you don''t conduct a one-man streetwar outside my apartment. The city''s got a hair-trigger on suspending transport services whenever that happens."

    "There are no gangs in Greatcentral."

    "Yeah, but there are tensions. And every so often, well. This district is just four streets away from the slums. If something gets caught on public record too often, the whole district would be put on a watchlist. Once that''s done, we''d be semi-officially part of the slums."

    "I didn''t realize there was an official area."

    Eli shrugged. He didn''t think so as well. Then he came to live here. "Unofficially, in a time of crisis, priority of emergency services and utilities are spotty going to ''problem'' areas."

    Rashid frowned. "I see. That''s unfortunate."

    They entered the elevator. It rose to Eli''s floor in seconds. "Zee''s ce is two levels up. Can''t miss it."

    "Thank you. Will I see you there?"

    "Dinner with my aunt, so no." He lifted a hand in a wave. The doors closed on Rashid''s nod.

    Eli jogged into the shower. It was 6:43. He wasn''tte yet.

    The cab dropped him off outside his great-aunt''s house at 7:18.

    The door opened before he knocked.

    Surprisingly, it wasn''t his aunt. Even more surprisingly, it was an old man.

    Most of Aunt Am''s friends were women.

    "Are you Eli?"

    "¡­yes."

    The old man turned and bellowed. "Am, your Eli''s here!"

    "Tell him toe into the kitchen," the familiar voice hollered back.

    A shrug to Eli. "You heard her, young man."

    "I definitely did."

    "Eli,e here and help these overgrown children with their toys." A familiar grey-haired head popped out of the huddle of four simrly grey-streaked heads.

    That was one of his aunt''s constant friends. Her name eluded him. "I don''t know much about VR headgear."

    Because that was what they were poring over on the dining table.

    Also, he thought he and his aunt would have a quiet dinner.

    "Don''t listen to her," another head came up to re disdainfully at the woman. "She''s the one who bought this."

    "I''m telling you it''s awork cable port!" another old man insisted.

    "Why would it need that? Who uses cables towork these days?"

    "Just because you''re as old as fiber-optics doesn''t mean people use them anymore," agreed another voice.

    "We''re beyond fiber-optics now."

    "Beyond? Are you saying we''re old?!"

    "What do you call this then!"

    Eli tried to back away into the kitchen.

    The headgear was shoved into his arms. The familiar GT logo stared up at him. A MarkVII. New, despite the line being discontinued already.

    "Youngster, what is this?" a wrinkled finger pointed at a port-connection on the back of the helmet.

    Thankfully, he knew the answer. He had to do a fair bit of research into the GT MarkVIII headsets.

    "It''s the optional data port, for connecting to a bio-cradle."

    "Cable, right?"

    He swallowed, feeling their intent stares. "Uh, the MarkVI had problems with resonance between different data-transfer systems. Compatibility issues. So they put a cable port on the MarkVII, yes. All the subsequent GatesTech headsets have them."

    "I told you!"

    "Fiber-optics?"

    I wouldn''t know." Fiber optics was just something he remembered from high school science history. He knew nothing about it.

    They started to bicker again.

    Eli waited until they were absorbed into fighting each other and escaped into the kitchen. He sidled up to his aunt, who was ting food. "What''s going on?"

    "Athur took exception to Ririn buying her own headgear, apparently it''s better than his. Good for her. We chipped in to order ingredients when we realized it was gettingte."

    "So they invaded your house?"

    "Don''t worry, dear. Yaken here is more than making up for it. He used to be a chef in Estonia, you know. Five star restaurant."

    The man who was smoothly keeping up with three pots and a wok turned to smile at him. Then eyes caught on the bag he was holding. "Are those peaches? Good choice, boy. I''ll make preserves for your aunt."

    Am beamed.

    "Go put together the tables. We''ll be eating soon."

    The dining table wasn''trge enough for nine people. Eli tripped through the small storage room to bring out the folding table. That meant the dining/living area was smaller, so he had to carry a few armchairs to the corridor.

    "Must be nice to be young," one of the old men patted his shoulders. "You''re still strong."

    "You''re justzy!" shot one of aunt''s friends, who was helping to fill the extended dining table with food and eating utensils. "You can''t carry a te?"

    "Yes, Athur,e carry the pitchers," Eli''s aunt gestured imperiously.

    The man grumbled as the others unsubtly pretended to be busy while chuckling at him. Four were women, his aunt''s old friends ¨C one who was named Ririn. Then there was Athur the grumbler and Yaken the chef and another old man who was not introduced.

    Eli rxed as he watched his auntugh with her friends.

    He was a little envious, truth be told. He used to have friends who just dropped by each other''s houses just to chat about inane things. They all grew apart after college.

    It was heartening though, to see this. He was so happy his aunt wasn''t actually lonely.

    In his old age, would he have this too?

    He could only hope.

    "You''re too young for old man thoughts."

    Eli nearly choked on his baked chicken. "Huh?"

    Yaken, the chef, who was seated across from him, reached out to touch between Eli''s brows, a quick tap. "I know the look of people having old man thoughts. Prohibited! Prohibited from people under sixty years of age."

    "Bah, have old thoughts if you want." Athur slung an arm over Eli''s shoulders. "As long as you let me have young thoughts if I want. Old thoughts, young thoughts, life''s too short to think all the time. Now that we''re free, we do what we want!"

    Half the table groaned in exasperation.

    Athur patted Eli on the shoulder. "Tell me, if you were my age right now, would you buy VR gear?"

    Former-Eli wouldn''t, current-Eli needed it, so hepromised. "If I were your age right now, I think I''d be in a wheelchair."

    The tableughed.

    "You worry too much! This is VR, you know! VR!" Athur sighed in despair when he didn''t get the expected reaction. "You probably grew up knowing it existed. But us, we only dreamed. I was thirty years old when Augmented Reality really started pushing boundaries. That was over seventy years ago now. In my eighties when Halfworld came out. Do you know how exciting that was? Hah!" His grin grew suddenly. "And now I can see what a fantasy gameworld looks like for free!"

    What?

    "That wargame," his aunt rified, with a huff. "They''re opening tourist ounts, apparently."

    What, really?!

    "We''re part of the test group," sighed Yaken.

    "If you don''t want to, you didn''t have to sign on." Athur pointed at him.

    "Game this, weapon that, monster this, is all the kids could talk about now." Yaken shrugged. "I want to see what the sted hype is all about."

    "You shoulde, Eli," his aunt invited. "It''s on Saturday."

    Whoa, his hundred-year-old aunt had a seriously more active social life than he did.

    "I''ll feel morefortable with you there," she finished. "All this HP this and equipper¡­things¡­"

    Eli knew for a fact his great-uncle had once led a world-championship team of gamers. Just one year, but still! There was no way she''d call anything ''equipper things''.

    What was his dear aunt plotting now?

    Or rather, which friend had a grandchild of marriageable age that hadn''t yet been introduced until now?

    He cornered her after the others went home.

    "You sounded like you wanted to talk about something when you called."

    She sighed. "It''s¡­not important at the moment. Come to the game thing on Saturday, hm? You look pasty, dear nephew, you should get out more."

    Eli was concerned, but his great-aunt didn''t talk even with his gentle coaxing.

    He went home.

    It was 9:30. Toote. He''d call the doctor again tomorrow.

    Hey back on his bed and closed his eyes.

    Turned on the recording function of his phone.

    Where was he thest time?

    Ah, the mine rumors.

    "I said, the guild heard rumors of a mine of ethermica in the mountains. Unfortunately, thend wasn''t part of the town allocation. So the guild leaders, in their <em>wisdom</em>, decided to start a campaign. Being a crafting guild, it wasn''t a good idea. Rumors had a penchant for spreading, after all.. Then of course, when they were sent scurrying back with their tails between their legs, they announced that the less-skilled of the crafters would be trained and sent to join the campaign¡­."

 Chapter 42 - The Lost Key (1)

    The rm woke Eli up.

    The blurry numbers glowing in the dark indicated it was 2:30 a.m.

    He pped a hand sleepily on the wall, turning off the rm.

    Yawned as he sat up, sliding his feet off the side of the bed that was now as narrow as the sofa in the living room. Whatever. It wasn''t like he''d ever been prone to sprawling when he slept.

    "Power on." The bio-cradle and headgear systems lit up as they initialized boot sequence.

    He peered at the lone blinking light separate from the rest. Groped for his sses and put them on.

    Oh. His phone recorder was still on.

    He shook his head and turned it off, deleting a long part of the tail end that was just rhythmic sound, and archiving the audio of him talking. There were two audio files already there.

    The events were years back, nearly a decade, and yet it was surprising how much they still angered him.

    Undeniably, he needed a psychologist.

    Also undeniable, he''d immediately be tossed into a support system for ''people of alternate mentality'' if he voiced a single word about being transmigrated to Zushkenar and then back.

    It was a good thing there had been nearly a century of studies on how people would prefer to talk about their problems to ''fake'' anthromorphs like teddy bears and 3D modeled characters than real humans.

    That meant there were various iterations of ''virtual'' psychologists avable for download. The best reviews were given to the ''Rant at Me'' app, that cost 2 ecru.

    It was built by RSI, actually.

    The download size was fairlyrge, and it used a lot of memory but it was a stand-alone app and didn''t send his data to ''real'' people to be analyzed before a response was sent.

    Its creator being RSI, it was probably some level of AI.

    In any case, Eli didn''t use his phone for much.

    So he spent some time out of the day talking about Zushkenar to the randomly swaying and rustling 3D tree that he chose as his psychologist''s avatar. The voice he gave the tree was calm and airy, sexless and almost indifferent.

    It was also a form of recording his experiences, before he forgot.

    He was nning on going through the recordings looking for memories that might be helpful that he only remembered when going through a chronological y-by-y of his life in Zushkenar.

    He ced his phone on the headboard shelf and stumbled sleepily to the bathroom.

    Less than thirty minutester, he was a bit more chipper, having finished breakfast. His aunt had sent him offst night with a pile of left-overs.

    Eli peeled the disinfectant strip from his arm, tossed it into the trash, and wiped off the intravenous band to rece it. He re-connected the band to the ZombieFluid line, took off his sses and lowered the headgear.

    *

    Several notifications of packages having arrived to his post-vault greeted Krow''s entry into Rends.

    The vault had finally activated.

    He changed his Travelcoat for the [Darkfall Hooded Cape], pulling up the hood, checked out of the visiting-house and made his way to Orddet''s.

    The vault levels were on a different tower from Orddet''s main floor and galleries, but he still had to go through the lobby to ess the viaducts to the tower.

    All his armor and essories but for the greaves and the gorget ne had been stashed in his vault already. The rest were due in the afternoon. There were also five hundred-item crates of Starfall items, with seven more due to arrive in the afternoon.

    He expected about a hundred crates of Starfall items, and maybe twenty or so crates of ethermica, but prices may rise while the buy-orders were open.

    It was a possibility for the ethermica, but Starfall weapons were unranked. They sold to smithy shops as vendor trash for 3 drax.

    Krow was offering 7 drax per item with a 2 drax leeway with Orddet''s buyers.

    Seven drax was about the cost of any weapon graded D Umon. Umon weapons were still rtively affordable, with A-quality selling in the low hundreds. It would be even lower in the future.

    It was the Rare weapons and armors that were priced high, with a simple grade-F Rare already selling between one and two thousand drax.

    Of the three Spells he bought, only the rank-two [Double Jump] had arrived.

    It was the most basic movement spell in Rends.

    It wasn''t popr at all.

    For one, its efficacy was based mainly on STR and DEX, instead of just MND and DEX like other Movement Spells.

    It was simple, but even a in movement spell was better than none.

    In truth, buying any of the fancy rank-three movement spells on the market felt wasteful when Krow already had Stormglide.

    He installed the Scroll into a Spell Slot.

    [You''ve learned a Movement Spell!]

    Added to [Greater Focus], he now had 2 of his 6 Spell-slots filled.

    He stored his armor into an Equipment Set.

    For battle and traveling only.

    Even with light armor,pared with the average Lvl 5 who were still using whatever Common and Umon items they could scrounge up, he was overgeared.

    He could probably defeat any single opponent under Lvl 10 at this point, but why invite challengers by openly wearing armor?

    He equipped the [Dusk Illusion Mask Earclips] on his avatar. Seeing the sculpted featurelessness of his lower face, he rxed a bit.

    Even though he couldn''t feel it, his features looked like they were covered in solid shadowy material.

    That took care of the single major problem his old mask had ¨C he couldn''t eat and drink through it.

    Satisfied, he left.

    It was midmorning in Rends.

    Striding the walkways in hooded cape and mask, no one osted or mugged him

    Krow cheerily made his way to the Realty, after asking a couple of people at Orddet''s for directions.

    He caught his reflection in a crystal window as he jumped a railing. Ah¡­

    ¡­no one mugged him because he looked like the one prone to mugging people?

    Dark cape, dark mask. When not looking like an assassin he looked like the average viin underboss.

    Mask prejudice!

    He wasn''t listening to people who denigrated his mask.

    He couldn''t do anything about the viinous cloak though.

    Tsk.

    Every viin in ssic cinema had capes and cloaks. What was with that? No wonder the entertainment industry was said to be failing.

    He neared the Realty. The symbol of towers and a white crown was unmistakable.

    It looked¡­closed?

    The shutters were drawn, the doors were shut, and no-one answered his knock.

    He tried the door handle. It was locked.

    Hm. He knew draculkar shops openedter than most; they weren''t morning people. But it was past nine already.

    What was the exnation for this? There wasn''t even a single ''closed for renovation'' sign.

    He turned to check the shop next door.

    Shopkeepers gossiped as much as drunk tavern-goers. Information was business.

    His eye was caught by the draculkar looking at him in something like panic. He was the age of Krow''s avatar, probably.

    Krow smiled, his gentlest. "Good morning, do you know when the Realty is opening?"

    Eh?

    The young draculkar''s panic spiked and he sputtered, starting and stopping sentences.

    "Breathe," Krow ordered. He wasn''t that scary, surely?

    The young draculkar sucked in a breath.

    "Do you know anyone who works there?" If it didn''t open today, he''d be stuck here until tomorrow.

    "No!" the draculkar burst out. "Definitely not. Absolutely. No one I know works there, and not today probably. Not! Not because anything happened. Nothing happened at all. The key''s definitely where it is, yes, not lost at all! And we''re¡­it''s not opening this morning, probably. It will in the afternoon, and I''ll be fired."

    Krow tried to parse out the rush of babbled words.

    The other suddenly waved his arms wildly, even more flustered. "From! From¡­from somewhere else. Yes, they might fire me, b-because I talked to you too long. Uh, fair morn to you, I''m going."

    Krow reached out to nab the draculkar''s shoulder.

    "You," he rified, "lost the key to the Realty?"

    Quest alert.

    "It''s supposed to be my brother this morning but he''s sick and I only have to open until Chanaries at noon! Who buys property before noon?!" the draculkar''s words were almost squeaked.

    Krow arched his brows.

    The other caved and his shoulders slumped. He looked around nervously. Lucky for him, there were few people in the shopping levels. "I''m just the assistant. Temporary."

    He mentally revised the other draculkar''s age to younger than mid-twenties. "What''s your name?"

    "S-sucar."

    "Where do you think you lost it?"

    "I don''t know? I had it when I left home but then when I was here, it wasn''t anywhere! It must''ve dropped on the way but I don''t know, because there are more pickpockets now said the Guard bulletins, but I don''t think I met any pickpockets so it must have fallen-"

    "Breathe."

    For the sake of this Realty branch, Krow hoped this quest wasn''t one of the repeatable ones. Will it survive losing its key so many times, even if backed by the crown?

    Sucar inhaled. "I went over the way home three times now, and nothing!"

    "Maybe new eyes will help."

    The other''s eyes widened. "Y-you''ll help?"

    "Sure, why not? I do want to get business done by today."

    "Right! Um, if we can open the Realty before noon, I''ll help you with your business." Sucar gave a determined nod.

    "As just the assistant?"

    "So?" The single syble was unexpectedly unwavering, especially after the anxious babbling.

    Krow huffed augh. "Alright. I''ll hold you to it."

    "You will?"

    Shkav.

    Krow mentally wrote off the rest of the day.

 Chapter 43 - The Lost Key (2)

    Sucar walked Krow to where he lived ¨C a set of rooms in one of the residential towers. It was a ten-minute walk, the entire route along skywalks. Their path never dipped below any tower''s second level.

    Krow leaned over the railing to eye the space between the skyways and the ground ¨C full of lower walkways and people passing by.

    "Did you search below?"

    Sucar looked surprised. "No, should I have?"

    So the guy just went back and forth along the skyways, without actually looking seriously?

    "You said you dropped it. Is the key sentient, that it would choose where itnds?" Maybe his tone was a little testy, but the vertical space under even a ten-minute walk on elevated walkways was a lot of ground to cover. And he had a feeling Sucar was going to be little help there.

    Krow exhaled a breath. "Nevermind. Let''s walk back. Tell me everything."

    "I just¡­walked."

    "You met no-one, talked to no-one. Is that what you''re saying?"

    "Sucar?" a voice called from behind and above. "Brother, aren''t you supposed to be at work?"

    A draculkar woman older than Sucar by at least a few decades leaned out a window as they looked up.

    "Sister! I, uh ¨C"

    "I am a client," Krow interrupted the iing ramble, throwing an arm around Sucar''s shoulders. "Sucar is showing me around. He didn''t say he had a sister as fair as moonlight on theke."

    The womanughed, responded good-naturedly. "If only all the clients of the Realty were as charming as you, perhaps I might ask him to introduce more of them."

    Sucar made an inarticte sound of protest.

    His sister leaned her chin on a hand, smirked. "But it is a disappointment, you look too young for me and my husband. Were you just a decade older¡­"

    She sighed dramatically.

    Sucar made to say something, but Krow tightened his hold and he could only make a sound like that of a dying cow. Somehow, it managed to convey all his horror and disbelief just the same.

    "Fate is truly cruel," agreed Krow, pressing his free hand to his chest. "Sucar is a lucky brother, to be able to talk to such a sister every morning."

    "If he didn''t, I''d storm the Realty to see why," the sister shook her head. "He needs so much looking after."

    "Sister!"

    Sheughed. "I should not keep you from business. Being so diligent so early in the morning, it must be important."

    "Fare magnificently,dy. I regret we cannot stay longer." Krow dragged Sucar away. When they were sufficiently out of hearing, he sighed. "You just walked, you said?"

    Sucar crossed his arms, but the tips of his ears darkened. "You flirted! With¡­with my sister!"

    "She flirted back," Krow pointed out. "And if her husband had been present, he''d be flirting too, it seemed. In any case, she was distracted and you didn''t spill that you lost the key to your workce. Or was I wrong, in that you wanted to keep that to yourself?"

    Sucar looked away, mumbled. "They already think I''m unreliable."

    Krow wanted to say something, but it wasn''t his ce toment on family rtions. So he pretended not to hear and instead kept the topic to the problem at hand. "Any more detours I should know?"

    "No?"

    "Oh?"

    "I talk to my sister all the time! Why would it be significant?"

    The walk back, tracing their steps, didn''t take just ten minutes, as Krow took it upon himself to wring every insignificant detail of Sucar''s walk from home out of the younger draculkar''s absentminded head.

    They entered a bustling viaduct, wider than most such that stalls and small shops divided the space into smaller paths popr with pedestrians.

    "How about here? What do you do, usually? Which shops do you go to? Those ones?"

    "I don''t buy from those shops."

    "No? The air rich with the scent of cooking, you didn''t feel a craving from just walking by? Didn''t buy something to nibble on?" And now Krow was making himself hungry with these questions.

    "Oh¡­" Sucar looked embarrassed. "But I get my sausage rolls from that stall over there, not these shops!"

    "You must have paid," Krow nodded patiently. "The key could''ve fallen out when you reached for your coins."

    "No, I have a coin pouch. The key hangs from my belt, but I still had it after I ate the rolls."

    "Right." Krow still marked the ce in his head, like he did with the sister''s building. "Onward, then."

    "Alright. Since we''re here, that''s where I bought my favorite grilled skewers. Oh, the next one, beside the one with the fish sign, they only opened this morning so I sampled their roasted cattail lizard. It was excellent! And that''s¡­"

    He went on and on. Ten stalls, twelve¡­

    "¡­great! I think the fire-pollen added great vor to the meat. That''s thest one." He turned to Krow in triumph.

    "Are you sure," Krow asked tly, his mental map full of food stalls and shops. "The veryst in this market."

    There was still a bit of market area left, after all. Surely that stomach couldn''t have been satisfied after only seventeen stalls.

    "Of course, I''m sure!"

    "Hm."

    "Sucar! Are you alright? After what happened earlier, you ran away so fast I didn''t get the chance to ask."

    Seriously, how many detours were possible in a ten-minute walk?

    Sucar blushed gloriously at the sound of the voice, then paled rapidly the next moment.

    Krow watched in interest as the other changed colors in a way he didn''t think draculkar would be able to do, with their twilight-shaded skin.

    "Ye-yes! I''m fine! See you¡­"

    Krow grabbed him before he could run away, gave his best smile to the young female draculkar looking at them uncertainly.

    "Something happened earlier?" He tightened his grip as Sucar made greater efforts to get free.

    "Oh. Yes. Are you friends?" She nced between him and the struggling Sucar, eyes narrowing in concern and faint suspicion.

    Krow put Sucar in a headlock when the younger started to frantically shake his head. "Distantly rted. I came to look in only. This one takes so much looking after, doesn''t he?"

    He injected the question with the same yful exasperation the sister earlier professed.

    Sucar made an offended sound, muffled by Krow''s arm.

    The girl nodded, giggling, suspicions eased. "He and Dhurvo are always fighting. That''s why I was worried. Dhurvo had his friends with him when he met Sucar this morning, and I didn''t see Bavaggai with Sucar."

    Sucar went limp under Krow''s grip.

    He let the boy go.

    "If this Dhurvo needs friends to fight a single person, he''s not a very good fighter, is he?" Krowmented.

    "Or a good person," the girl huffed, eyes lit with indignation.

    Sucar lifted his head at that, surprise taking over the mortification.

    Krow ignored him. "Where did this fight happen?"

    "Oh, just there." She pointed to the edge of the market street. "My mother keeps a shop right around the corner, so I saw. Dhurvo and the others scattered when I called one of the Guard over. He didn''t have much time to do anything."

    "I see." Krow stared intently at the most likely ce for Sucar to have lost the key.

    "You¡­you''re not going to go after Dhurvo, are you? I''ll have to report premeditated violence if he turns up beaten badly."

    "Would I do that?" Krow asked rhetorically. "Sucar is strong enough to fight his own battles. In any case, young miss, I am happy he has friends who worry about him. With a friend like you in the Guard, I won''t have to worry so much."

    The girl blushed. "You think I''m strong enough to be a Guard? I¡­I haven''t told many yet. Sucar, did you tell him? I didn''t think you knew¡­"

    "Friends know things about their friends, don''t they?" Krow shrugged. "The Guard will be privileged to have a heart as lovely and strong as yours in their ranks."

    She smiled prettily, cheeks darkening further. "Thank you!"

    "Have to go," Sucar coughed out. "Work."

    Now it was him who grabbed Krow and dragged him away.

    Krow waved at the confused girl, shrugging helplessly.

    "You," Sucar said when he finally stopped. "You stay away from her!"

    "I don''t even know her name."

    "It''s Emarkke ¨C no! Forget I said that. Forget you ever met her!"

    Krowughed. "Don''t worry. I''m not looking for romance."

    "Good."

    "But you, oho, fighting a bunch of guys over a girl? I didn''t think you had that sort of fire in you."

    "I don''t!" Sucar looked even more mortified after that outburst. "I can''t fight, or talk to girls, or do anything as well as Dhurvo can! I thought she liked him!"

    He deted. "How did you even know she wanted to join the Guard?"

    "She has the Guard emblem on her belt."

    Sucar nodded. "Her older brother''s. He died five or four years ago because of bandits."

    "You think she''d carry that symbol around without wanting to carry on his legacy?"

    Sucar''s shoulder''s slumped. "So I''m just stupid."

    There was a long silence.

    Sucar smiled at him, a trifle bitter but also unsurprised. "You were supposed to refute."

    Krow grunted, unsympathetic. "At your age, I was stupid too."

    "You''re barely a year older than I am." Sucar was disbelieving.

    "A year is ten years to some." Krow shrugged blithely.

    "What does that mean?" Sucar was baffled. "A year is a year to everyone!"

    "Let''s just find your key, hm?" Krow took a few steps back toward the market, then stopped. "Or, you know, why don''t you have some lunch in that nice cafe and wait for me."

    "It''s midmorning."

    "A snack then. See youter!"

 Chapter 44 - The Lost Key (3)

    Krow returned to the ce where Sucar had a scuffle with his love rival nemesis or whatever their rtionship was.

    No key.

    He leaped the railings, hung off the skyway for a long moment, disregarding the exmations of shock. Most people quickly recovered, just shook their heads and went on with their morning.

    The draculkar build their towns and cities like thergest and mostplicated jungle-gyms ever. They should be used to people freerunning Tarzan-style all over the ce like, yes.

    Still, he fielded a lot of disapproving stares, which he promptly ignored.

    He dropped down to the walkway.

    No key stuck in awkward ces or random crevices or hanging from cracks.

    ording to Sucar, the key was ordinary, a hunk of in iron, a carved cylinder capped in dull copper. It should be instantly recognizable as a key, no distinguishing emblems but for a fading white KR stamped on the copper keyhead.

    Gods, the questions he had to ask just to get that detail¡­

    Was he so unobservant at that age too?

    So caught up in the trivia of his own personal bubble that he didn''t see the world?

    Probably.

    Krow made a circle of the level, in case the key had been inadvertently kicked outside the range of possible fall by a passerby.

    Nothing.

    He repeated his actions twice, before the next level down was ground.

    Still nothing.

    His boots touched the dusty stone of the ground level street.

    "Cuji pear juice, sir?" A kid held out a bottle from her bag of juice bottles.

    "If I lost something whereabouts could I find it?"

    The kid blinked. "The Guard?"

    "If not the Guard?"

    The kid shrugged.

    Krow gestured for the bottle. Exchanged it for a serpens.

    The girl grinned. "You could check the returnmen!"

    She jogged off to offer her wares to a group of dusty travelers.

    Krow snorted, twisted the bottlecap off. He chugged down the half-liter of juice, cold and fresh.

    Not bad.

    Returnmen was the ng for those who stole things and then held the objects for ransom against the owner. He''d done a few jobs in that vein, hisst ythrough.

    Heirlooms and trophies, mostly ¨C things whose perceived value was elevated only for a single person, or a small group.

    It paid for the first piece of armor he''d ever bought from the Catalogues ¨C a grade B Umon cuirass.

    He couldn''t remember the exact name now.

    But he was wearing it when he first opened his eyes in Zushkenar.

    Too bad, really, but Krow was nning on spirit-binding the Travelcoat using one of the Uniques he got at the Tnweth Temple.

    The advantages of a Starseeker coat he acquired for twelve serpens, slowly upgraded, would cumtively be greater than any cuirass under grade S Epic he could buy.

    At this point in the game timeline, not even the Bourse sold Epic items.

    Epic and Legendary rarity were only added with the war expansion, after all.

    He walked to ce the bottle with a pile of simr empty containers beside an old woman at a stall, one who he noticed was keeping a careful eye on the energetic girl he''d bought from. The old woman smiled at him and nodded.

    Bottles were recyble, even in a game world.

    He bought another.

    The taste was great.

    Krow sipped cuji pear juice as he watched people walking back and forth, carts and animals kicking up dust on the streets, children picking up anything vaguely shiny and running off to y with it.

    All within his designated ''fall zone''.

    Shkav.

    Could this get worse?

    A kid tripped, box of multi-colored balls falling from an unsteady grip, and burst out crying. The parents immediately stopped and bent over the crying child with soothing noises, putting down their packages as an older brother tried to retrieve all the rolling balls.

    Merchants. No average parent would buy their kids that many toys.

    "By all the gods," a dwarvir snarled as he nearly lost his bnce. He red at the red ball he''d tripped over, kicked it viciously to the side, and stomped off.

    The red ball bounced off a wall with excellent springiness. Well-made, part of Krow''s mindmented, leather stuffed with dried rabbitgrass, which became spongy and flexible when properly cured.

    He used to make the leather for balls like those, in the early days, to up his leathermaking skill.

    The ball bounced a few more times and rolled to the end of the street, where it suddenly disappeared into a recess in the ground.

    The juice bottle paused, the lip just touching Krow''s mouth.

    That couldn''t be what he thought it was?

    Krow dropped the half-drunk bottle on the stall counter, strode across the street to stare at the recess. The older brother of the kid who tripped was already there, sighing in disappointment.

    Oh, it just got worse.

    It was a sewer.

    The narrow openings were punched at regr intervals in the stone street.

    Krow looked up.

    Then down again.

    There were several sewer-openings within the fall zone.

    Shkav.

    He went back across the street, chugged the cuji pear juice like it was alcohol. He thumped the bottle onto the wooden nk that was the stall counter with more force than necessary.

    "Where can I find the nearest Guardhouse?"

    "¡­two levels up, Rerensk Tower."

    "Which one is Rerensk?"

    That one got him a disbelieving look. "Eleventh away from the main tower."

    "Thanks."

    The main tower was the highest, the administrative tower, the First Tower. It was easily seen from where Krow stood. He jogged up a few flights to get more perspective.

    Huffing when it wasn''t enough, he leaped straight up, then triggered [Double Jump]. He soared upward, grabbed the railing of the walkway above, mbering on.

    Heughed a little, having enjoyed the feeling.

    Then did it again.

    Jump, then double jump.

    He didn''t realize he''d feel nostalgic using a movement spell.

    Like the Wind-water Steps he used in Zushkenar, Double Jump gave the user a feeling of weightlessness, of a brief divorce from the burdens of gravity, though not as pronounced as the movement spell of thatst life.

    Did all movement spells feel like this?

    What would Stormglide feel like?

    He boosted himself over the next balustrade.

    Sure enough, upper or lower reach, the towers were set out in different distances from the main tower.

    So, the eleventh would¡­he looked to the side.

    Oh, so near?

    Krow was midway between fourth level and fifth, so a simple rappel to the tform below and¡­

    He was about to jump down, when he noticed several of the Guard frowning up at him.

    He smiled sheepishly, though they couldn''t see. He quickly moved out of their sight, against the shadow of the tower, and slipped into a shop.

    He changed his equipped clothes behind one of the disys, reluctantly stowing away the mask, and walked out the door and down the steps like a civilized person.

    One of the guards was bounding up the steps. "Did you see a hooded and masked person on the skyway?"

    "Yes?" Krow only felt a little guilty. "He went that way."

    "My thanks." The guard braced and hurtled past him.

    Oh, heh, the guy was also using the double jump Spell.

    [You have lied to an officer of thew, wasting the effort and resources of those that protect the masses! +1 Infamy]

    Oh shut up.

    It looked like freerunning across the draculkar spires was prohibited?

    Killjoys.

    Gaining the second level, he calmly walked up to the Guardhouse, passing the passel of Guards, and reached for the door handle.

    The door opened, expelling a familiar draculkar.

    They blinked at each other, both surprised at the sudden proximity.

    "Training Sergeant Amluyr," greeted Krow, lowering his hand.

    It took the other a second to recognize him.

    "Ah, it''s you. You have business in the Guardhouse?" She smiled; a bit more rxed than thest time they met. "Caught any more burrs?"

    "The moment I do, sergeant, you''ll be the first I call." He grinned. "But no, I wanted to ask. The Guardhouse maintains a lost and found?"

    "You lost something?"

    "A key."

    "Describe it, if you would."

    "Cylindrical, carved iron. Copper head, with fading white stamped letters."

    She shook her head. "Typical key. I''m the one on desk duty this morning. No keys with that description came in. If you lost it yesterday, you can check inside."

    "Ah, no. It was this morning." Krow was disappointed.

    It couldn''t be that easy, of course.

    "I''ll keep an eye out."

    "Thank you, that''s all I can ask." Krow smiled at the sergeant.

    "It may be found yet. You should checkter in the day."

    "I will."

    As they parted ways and he walked away from the Guardhouse, Krow''s smile dimmed. The quest had a time limit.

    Twelve noon.

    It was nearly three hours away.

    He couldn''t just loiter around the Guardhouse for hours.

    Hm. Time for Sucar to be useful.

    A quarter-hourter, he was back in mask and cloak, dragging Sucar down the levels after finding him actually having a snack in one of the restaurants near the Realty.

    "You haven''t told me what we''re doing yet?" Sucar yelled, tugging at the wrist trapped in Krow''s grip.

    "Where are the entrances to the sewers?"

    "What? Why?!"

    Krow stopped on a flight of stairs, looking at Sucar. "Where do you think you lost the key?"

    "Uh. The altercation with Dhurvo? I mean¡­he and the others did push me around a bit."

    "Good deduction. That ce is right there." Krow pointed straight up. "But, unfortunately, no key in the entire area between the foodmarket and the groundstreet level."

    "And?"

    "And do you see what else is on street level?"

    Sucar looked at the crowds, wrinkling his nose at the mass of dust and mingled scents of sweat, animals, and produce.

    "Lower," Krow gestured with a hand.

    Sucar wrinkled his nose even more, staring at muddy footwear and dusty cobblestone.

    "Lower."

    Confused, Sucar leaned over the railing.

    He saw the hole. Slowly, he looked up. Then down again.

    "Surely you''re not serious?" he questioned weakly.

    "I went to the Guardhouse."

    Sucar sputtered, paled, stopped breathing as his eyes widened.

    "There''s no key there," Krow continued easily. "So, the greatest possibility currently, is¡­that."

    He pointed at the sewer openings.

    The blood returned to Sucar''s face. "Y-you didn''t tell them? I mean, I''m already fired, but I also don''t want to be arrest--"

    "Sewer entrance," interrupted Krow. "You did say you had until noon, right? Until then, the secrecy is beneficial."

    "What''s it to you?" Sucar''s mouth opened to say more, but cut himself off before the babble started.

    "I don''t have anything pressing today, apart from my business at the Realty."

    Sucar stared at him for a long moment, then shook his head. He frowned at the ground, thinking hard. "Um. Boss had a few people deal with the sewers because a buyer had a dispute with the Realtyst month¡­the bottom-level chambers he acquired had effluent seepage in the underground storage¡­."

    Krow waited.

    "I think the...fountain maintenance people have an entrance? Otherwise, you have to enter through the First Tower."

    "I?"

    "What?"

    "I, who has toiled for a stranger, am in fact, not a saint." Krow deimed. "Sucar, my friend, do you mean to say you are leaving me to this task, this dangerous quest, alone and unsupported?"

    "Uh¡­" Sucar looked incredibly reluctant.

    "I, who has done nothing but assist out of the goodness of my heart¡ª"

    Sucar looked incredibly reluctant and disbelieving.

    "¡ªam being <em>abandoned</em>?! By the one to whom I have given all effort? <em>Betrayal!</em>"

    People started to look their way.

    "Betrayal upon this earthly¡ªguh!"

    Sucar nted an elbow in his gut, none too gently.

    "Once again, betrayal, I say," wheezed Krow, a strained whisper.

    "Fine." Sucar looked a bit ill. "I''ll do it."

    "Great!" Krow straightened, smiling. "Where in this town are the fountain people?"

    Sucar''s sigh was long and resigned.

 Chapter 45 - The Lost Key (4 Of 4)

    The sewers of Nyurajke were not extensive. Mostly, in Nyurajke, it was to contain the water runoff.

    There were many waterfalls in draculkarmunities.

    Krow could almost say they engineered them as a theme.

    But also, in Nyurajke, the sixteen fountains in varying tform-levels of the town meant that water management was a governmental concern.

    Draculkarmunities, Krow already noticed, were cleaner than the human towns he''d known in Zushkenar. Of course, no town was as smelly and disease-ridden as the towns in Earth''s histories.

    The scenting abilities of draculkar were strong, only second to the strength of vargvir senses.

    It was probably one of the reasons that draculkar and vargvir had cleaner streets and scent-containment spelled sewers, really ¨C they had the sensitive nose inmon.

    Though any of the two races would be outraged at theparison.

    Sucar hunched over the map they''d taken from the fountain maintenance people,yers of cloth wrapped around his nose and mouth. "We''re right under the market right now."

    "Look around then."

    The Scount subss gave Krow no data. Did that mean the key was out of range, like it had been swept away by the waters or that it never had been here?

    Unfortunately, even following the sewer tunnels gave them no sess.

    It was just a key, Krow puffed out a breath after nearly an hour of searching inmplight.

    In that time, they found several battered umon armor pieces, a rare boot (missing the second), and a grade F Common ne. Krow tossed everything into his inventory ¨C he could use them for deconstruction practiceter.

    There were also two bone-newt monster nests in the way.

    The monsters were Lvl 6 and below.

    Which says a lot about thefortableness of the Nyurajke sewers for bone-newt reproduction.

    Krow didn''t want to think about it.

    He grumbled. "There are probably people out there that could be hired to change locks even if the ce wasn''t your house."

    Sucar sent him a scandalized, censoring look. "That''s not something aw-abiding person should say."

    That''s the point, Krow silently riposted. "Besides, it doesn''t solve the problem: where would you get an identical key? Though I suppose the theoretical scofw locksmith likely could make one."

    Not in time.

    There were less than two hours to noon.

    Krow peered over Sucar''s shoulder. He pointed. "That''s a vertical ess point, yes? We should just head there, get out of here faster."

    They didn''t need to go all the way to the maintenance office entrance.

    Sucar nodded vigorously.

    Disappointed yet again, they hurried to the exit.

    He only had Minor Poison as a debuff.

    But there was no way he was going to mix sewer fumes with anything he put in his mouth, even an antidote!

    Sucar stopped walking.

    "Lost again?"

    "I haven''t gotten lost. Not once!"

    "There was the time you had the map upside-down."

    "That doesn''t count."

    "It does."

    Sucar ignored him. "I heard something."

    They strained their ears.

    Krow heard it.

    They weren''t alone in the sewers.

    They nced at each other, mutually deciding to sneak a peek.

    The voices were in the direction of the exit, after all.

    Sucar turned off themp. They relied on the light from sewer openings to improve their vision as they moved.

    "¡ªrs, this is the glorious time that is ours. We are on the precipice of creating something great, something enduring, something that our descendants would point at and say, ''This were my ancestors!'' rather than the so called blood that makes people strut around entitled."

    "We act!" came from a half-dozen throats.

    "We act! We persevere! We protect!"

    Krow and Sucar looked at each other, and decided to back away.

    Was this a cult?

    Why was there a draculkar cult in the sewers?

    "They''re close to the exit," Sucar hissed to Krow.

    Krow answered in whispers, their heads meeting over the map. "Go here, toward the exit. I''ll cause a diversion here and then join you. Just wait a few moments. You''ll know what to do."

    Sucar bit his lip, nodded .

    They moved into tunnels going into opposite directions.

    The one Krow took curved, gently, until the tunnel opened into an underground pool.

    On the tform, eight people sat listening to two deiming about their glorious revolution.

    That didn''t sound good.

    [You''ve discovered a group of conspirators! Will you help them or hinder them?]

    Krow grimaced and grabbed up a few broken pieces of pottery between his fingers.

    He tapped them on the stones in a rhythmic pattern, that walking insouciance of the wed animal.

    Several looked in his direction, but dismissed the sound.

    One of them frowned. "Rats again?"

    "The newts, more like."

    Krow skipped a pebble into a far tunnel.

    The fiery rant of the two on-stage was just heating up.

    It stopped. "Jarver, go check what that was."

    Could he hope to discover that these were just stage yers or debaters?

    Of course he could.

    The universe just doesn''t want to y along.

    What he wouldn''t give for a silent weapon, right about now. Krow threw another rock, then another, then another, then another.

    "That wasn''t an animal."

    "Just go see it''s gone," the leader was obviously disappointed that he had to cut his rant short.

    Krow lit amp and rolled it like a bowling ball into another tunnel. Like someone had tripped and decided to leave theirmp.

    "There''s someone here!"

    "Catch them!"

    The one standing by the lectern shook his head. "Kill them."

    There was briefughter.

    "Of course, what do you take us for?"

    "Come out,e out, you."

    Krow quickly traced Sucar''s path, moving as quietly as he could. This was too much excitement for a single sewer dive.

    "Where is the outside ess point?"

    Sucar pointed at thedder, right behind the lectern.

    Of course it was.

    But now, there were only three of them left.

    "Get ready," he hissed at Sucar. "Now. Go, go, go!"

    Krow snapped out three stuns in concert, swapped cylinders, and shot again three times.

    Two of the three dropped. Low-level grunts. Thest one standing was no match for two stun bullets. Grunt-leader, probably.

    Krow ced into his Inventory all that he could swipe with a single sweep of an arm. He could hear the others returning at a run. He jumped at thedder even as Sucar''s feet were disappearing upward.

    They tumbled from the ess onto a clearing outside the town.

    Krow closed the ess, grimacing at the broken lock. He grabbed Sucar, triggered Double Jump twice in rapid session, getting away as soon as possible.

    They hid behind trees, panting.

    Krow''s Minor Poisoned was now added to Minor Exhaustion.

    "Did you hear what they were saying?" Sucar was pale and trembling. "They want to blow up shops and buildings!"

    They said what?

    "Guardhouse," decided Krow.

    Sucar nodded fervently.

    Once they were there, Krow ced the documents he swiped on Training Sergeant Amluyr''s desk. Sucar was already babbling about the things he saw in the sewers.

    The sergeant nodded. "We''ll look into it."

    [You''ve assisted the Nyurajke Town Guard with the quest, ''Seeking Conspiracies''! You''ve gained 10 RP with the Town Guard, and 5 RP with Nyurajke Town.] [B]

    That meant they''d stumbled across a quest-chain, or probably a storyline quest.

    An assist or a hindrance on a quest other yers are doing was also part of the Rends game mechanics. Not one of the popr ones, as most yers didn''t want others butting in on their quests.

    "By the way, your key came in."

    Eh?

    "What."

    He didn''t just hear that?

    "The key you were looking for." The sergeant reached under the counter and retrieved a small package she pushed to Krow.

    Sucar all but scrambled over him to see the package.

    Carved iron cylinder, copper head, faded white stamp of the letters KR.

    Sucar stared at the key in his hands. "Uh. Yes, this is the one. This is the one!"

    Heughed, almost crying with relief.

    Krow slumped down on the counter and groaned.

    It was, in fact, that easy.

    He had just to wait for it here?!

    Un-belie-vable.

    Krow hooked an arm around the hysterically relieved Sucar. "Friend, you owe me for this."

    *

    They were in the Realty in less than a half-hour.

    The day wasn''t going any better.

    The average 1300-slot warehouse cost 150,000 drax.

    Sucar saw his expression. "You can always search the private sales. Those are usually the ones with conditions that cannot be put on the official catalogues. I''m not supposed to give you ess, but well¡­I promised to help. I know you didn''t believe me, but this is all I can do. Sorry?"

    "You''re a great help, Sucar."

    The other nodded, and unlocked a few things at the desk, gestured at the holo before Krow.

    The holo of listings changed.

    The numbers lowered by at least half.

    The warehouses were more run-down. Not as many item-slots, not as prestigious locations. There were warning notes aplenty on at least half of them.

    But they were priced under 90,000 drax per building.

    Krow smiled.

    This was more like it.

 Chapter 46 - The Actual Warehouse Quest

    The ''private sale'' records kept by Kingdom Realty in Nyurajke weren''t extensive. Logical, since they didn''t get a cut for the sales that weren''t part of their general listing. Most of the record was field knowledge from Realty agents. Even if the sales weren''t brokered through the Realty, it was still information that could be useful down the line.

    When Krow filtered the instances that weren''t the building he needed plus the ones marked ''legality problem'' and ''cheaper to demolish'', three warehouses were left.

    The first was 2700 inventory slots for 71,000 drax.

    The second was 1300 slots for 97,000.

    The third was 4000 slots for 65,000.

    The first had a notation that every possible sale somehow fell through. The second was marked ''possible cleansing needed''. The third was in a mining vige six hours from Nyurajke, and the only one without a warning note.

    "What can you tell me about these?"

    Sucar didn''t hesitate.

    "The vige that one is in¡­the mine is running out, possibly." He flipped a few pages in a book that he hadn''t allowed Krow to see. "Hm, yes¡­people there started selling their houses to the Realty in droves for a half-decade now. The one near the merchant district¡­it''s a good deal. A trader went bankrupt and the bank is liquidating his property. The cleansing needed, it''s because the warehouse is suspected to be haunted but the people sent to subdue the ghosts have all failed. As for thest, it''s a below-ground warehouse. Few people want those, but the reason it''s not on the listings is that the owner''s been rejecting people who wanted to view the property, for years now. She has conditions to the sale, you see, and entric besides."

    He said all that with no stutter, no slurred words. The facts wereid out unhurriedly. Huh. The boy had somepetence after all.

    Krow sat back.

    The vige warehouse was out. Too far from a trading center means more delivery fees. If he were settling in the area, the warehouse would be a steal. The vige would transition from mining to be a craft vige like Gremut, probably, which meant buying a few houses there now would pay back well in the future.

    The merchant warehouse was what he wanted ¨C close to the trade district, no structural problems because it was the ground floor of a tower. If he couldn''t defeat the ghosts there, an increased reward posted to the request board at the First Tower would have higher level yers moring to take the quest.

    The problem was that needed cash.

    He nced at his Inventory.

    48,700 drax.

    Heh.

    He transferred, once again, money from his realworld ount, topping up the amount by 40,000 drax.

    There was only once choice left then.

    Sucar looked dubious. "Are you sure? The owner Chanchani ¨C she''s old. One of the oldest people in town. People that age, it''s no surprise she''s gone a little loopy. It says here that no one''s passed her tests since the warehouse went on the market."

    "The harder the challenge, the better the rewards."

    "It''s not a challenge."

    Krow shook his head, mock despairing. "The fact that you think that makes your life very sad."

    "It''s not a challenge. She just likes making other people''s lives difficult."

    "All the more reason!" Krow stood. "Won''t you then have saved hundreds from the difficulty?"

    "Only if you win."

    "Now you''re talking fighting words." Krow grinned at him.

    "You won''t win. This says a professor from Cyzaren University tried and failed. Twice."

    "You never know until you try."

    The door opened.

    Sucar immediately closed the non-listed records of properties, faster than Krow would have expected of him.

    "Sucar," the draculkar who enter smirked. "I heard you¡­"

    He saw Krow and cut himself off, the smirk turning into a professional smile. "Ah, is there something I could help you with? I am Varrogar, who has been at this Realty for three years. If there are questions Sucar can''t answer, please ask them of me, as he is still new to the Realty. Not that Sucar is unskilled, of course. He''s a very good assistant. His brother has noints about his work. His reputation for brawling in the streets is assuredly false, as the Realty does not hire people like that."

    Sucar red.

    A few sentences and the draculkar had given the impression that Sucar was violent and could only gain a job through nepotism, possibly even that the brother was sweepingints about him under the rug.

    "I have noints. How helpful are the people here! I surely wille again." Krow pretended he didn''t get the insinuations. "If you have been here so long, you must be a manager? My questions are unworthy of a senior officer, I''m afraid. Sucar has answered them well enough."

    The other draculkar colored darkly. "Yes," he said shortly. "Of course."

    "I won''t keep you. Sucar was kind enough to search the address of an elder for me." The holo had closed before Krow saw the location map.

    Sucar nodded. "Since you''re here, Varrogar, I''ll guide the guest."

    He followed Krow out the Realty before the other could protest.

    Krow arched his brows inquisitively at the gleeful grin Sucar sent him.

    "He''s never been promoted," Sucar exined. "And sincest year, he''s grown more and more sure it''s his turn. Acts like he''s already at higher position. But he was passed over this year. It rankles at him."

    "He doesn''t like you."

    "He thinks I''ll take his job." Sucar snorted.

    "You won''t? Pnicky iling aside, you appear to know the work."

    "Maybe." Sucar shook his head. "It doesn''t feel right."

    "They say you should base your work on things you like."

    "Is that what you do?"

    Hah. What he was doing now was more ''must'' than ''want''. "Not at your age."

    Not to say that he didn''t enjoy ying Rends. It had its high points.

    "We''re the same age!"

    "As you say."

    Sucar rolled his eyes and decided not to pursue the subject. He led Krow to the lower reach, then some ways out of the town.

    They ended up before a small cottage built atop a pointed mound of stone. Walking up the steps carved into the rock formation, Krow marveled again at the ces that draculkar decided to build their houses.

    Below them was a precipice, and the cottage seemed all but poised to leap off the edge.

    Krow knocked.

    The door cracked open.

    Sucar greeted the person eyeing them suspiciously. "Greetings elder, we¡ª"

    "How old are you?" barked the old draculkar.

    Krow, taken aback, answered after a moment. "¡­twenty-seven."

    "Twenty three," muttered Sucar.

    "Have you taken the Gauntlet?"

    "No." Both answered.

    Krow wondered silently: what is the Gauntlet?

    Fortunately, Sucar answered the same.

    "Where do you get dragonhair silk?"

    "Bluebark banana trees," Krow answered alone. How many of those trees did he chop down on that sted ntation?

    There was a pause. The eye at the crack of the door appraised him.

    "How do you make moondrenched salt?"

    "Ferment mountain rocksalt in a solution of bloodmoon flower milk, then boil dry."

    "What is the color of a ripe lemon when a red-eyed beetle is looking at it?"

    Krow smirked. He''d been a master forester and a master leatherworker. That question didn''t work on him.

    "Red-eyed beetles don''t have eyes. They can''t see color. Also, for everyone else, it''s the same color of ripe lemon it always has been."

    "What will the High Council of Durfadhan say if you inform them the Compact destroyed the Empire?"

    Krow lost his smirk.

    There was a leather curing concoction called the Durfadhan Recipe. Otherwise, he''d never heard of whichever council of whichever empire.

    But if said empire was destroyed¡­

    His lips curled upward at the edges. "Nothing. They''re dead."

    "Hmph. Humor me."

    Shkav.

    "If they still existed," Sucar interjected. "They''d say ''All that begins must end''."

    Krow shot him a grin.

    "Tsk. What was thest contest Reidhel the Silver proposed to Anandhe the Dawnwing, when they could not break their stalemate?"

    Krow''s grin widened just a bit. "A drinking contest."

    The door opened fully. "Come in."

    "What, really?" Disbelieving, Sucar followed Krow inside. "All the songs say it was a contest of strength."

    "There are many kinds of strength." The elderly draculkar waved them into seats.

    She had a slight limp, Krow noticed. And her hair was the gold-limned tinum shade that said she''d passed her 500th year.

    That was old, even for draculkar. The average draculkar lifespan was 400 years or so. There are outliers that may reach twice that age, but statistically less than 5% of the poption lived 500 years.

    At least, that was in Zushkenar.

    How did he know that? There was this cult that sprung up, which worshiped those of advanced age. Krow mentally snorted at the memory of getting tangled in that mess.

    He understood respecting age because of the wisdom and stories and skills that an experienced person would have gained. But revered just because they lived a long life? What was the point?

    "I''ve survived on the strength of my stomach many times when I was your age." The elder draculkar hummed.

    Sucar nodded, looking around in awe. He leaned toward Krow. "How did you know it was a drinking contest? Which history did you read it in?"

    Krow hid a grin, met Sucar''s eyes solemnly, and said, "There''s a dwarviran drinking song called "Dragons Sway Like Thunder Boom'' that describes the situation in great detail."

    Sucar''s jaw dropped.

    "It has a dance routine," Krow further informed him.

    Chanchani cackled. "That one''s been around for a long time."

    "Do you want to learn it?" continued Krow, shamelessly.

    "We''ll need good booze for that," added Chanchani.

    "No!"

    "What kind of draculkar are the young today," Chanchani sighed. "Not taking advantage of free alcohol?"

    "So sad," nodded Krow.

    He really should buy a few bottles of hard alcohol before he left.

    "Sorry elder, but we''re not here to drink." Sucar still looked a little stunned that they were sitting inside the cottage.

    "Indeed, it is sad." The elder shook her head. "You are here to buy the building. I have conditions."

    Krow nodded. "I''ll hear them."

    "First, 71,000 drax. No more, no less."

    "Agreed."

    "Second, you''ll keep the caretaker on for at least five years. No less than 5 drax a month."

    Caretaker? That was fine. He did need to hire one, as he did in Zushkenar. But the price was a little steep. "Three drax."

    She leaned forward, eyes lit with stubborn unyieldingness. "Five. No less. This includes the maintenance fees of the warehouse."

    That was 60 drax a year. Still steep. But now somewhat bearable. "Agreed."

    She studied Krow for a moment, then sat back, satisfied.

    "You have yourself a deal."

 Chapter 47 - Protection Is More Important

    The belowground warehouse was built into a cavern opening to the precipice under the cottage. It was massive, probably could fit a football stadium inside.

    Twicerger than his first warehouse in Zushkenar.

    Krow used the Tradebook to attach the warehouse to his Orddet''s ount, first thing.

    Then he unloaded all the enchanting materials ¨C the crates of Starseeker items, monster mats that he didn''t need, and the condorowl egg he was still hadn''t decided what to do with yet.

    Half his inventory cleared.

    Selling half the meat to the town butchers would clear another 5%.

    He considered halving his store of bullets. He nned to buy mage-rounds in Nyurajke anyway. The smiths here were more urbanized, would cater to the variety of people passing through.

    He shook his head after a moment. His revolver ran out too often. More bullets, more choices.

    Walking back to the upper reach, he noticed Sucar was too quiet. He almost forgot the other was there.

    "Something wrong?"

    "You passed the elder''s test."

    "Yes? We both did."

    "The test that no one had passed in two years." Sucar continued as if Krow hadn''t spoken.

    "Obviously, because we''re awesome."

    "How are you so confident?" Sucar wondered, sounding a little lost, again ignoring Krow''s words. "It was an impossible challenge, everyone thought so. People readied for it, triedpiling previous questions, and failed. But you didn''t prepare at all."

    "You might say I got lucky."

    Sucar red.

    Krow sighed. "All the questions she asked were things I came across while traveling. The question I didn''t know could be answered by a trick, but was also the one answer that mypanion could voice."

    He lifted his brows at Sucar.

    "That does sound like luck," Sucar muttered in agreement. "But all the answers you know, that wasn''t luck¡­you are a potioneer?"

    "Ha, no. Just a traveler."

    "That can''t be right."

    "They say travel broadens the mind," Krow nodded solemnly, attempting his most ''wise old man'' tone. "Isn''t that why draculkar travel, to gain knowledge and experience?"

    Sucar frowned.

    "You meet people you never thought you''d meet, get thrown into situations you never would have imagined to find yourself in. It forces the mind to grow. At some point, instead of wallowing in your own despair, you find that you need to learn from the problems the world throws at you or be the object lesson for those who were smart enough or lucky enough that they listened to the world more than you did."

    The younger draculkar stared as Krow''s tone became a trifle bitter at the end. "Listened to the world?"

    Krow look a long breath. Shkav, he didn''t intend to make things so serious.

    "Life is a challenge," he said. "You watch, you make mistakes, but will you learn? If you do, you watch again, make new mistakes, and learn more."

    "At our age, we''re not supposed to make mistakes."

    Krowughed, irritated. "At our age, we''re supposed to make the most mistakes of our lives. The reason the elderly are wise, is because they made many mistakes at our age, and they faced the consequences and learned from it, and they made more mistakes as they aged but didn''t turn away, learned to turn those experiences into opportunities."

    And he hadn''t learned until it was almost toote.

    "That¡­" Sucar fell into a contemtion thatsted nearly to the merchant district.

    "Sucar!" A girl''s voice stopped them.

    Sucar''s crush waved from a nearby tform, slightly elevated from the walkway they were on. "Are you two going for lunch? Join us!"

    There was an older draculkar woman with her, who nodded in agreement.

    Sucar''s cheeks flushed dark. "Uh¡­that¡­that''s really kind. Very kind, and I want to bu¡ª"

    Krow pulled Sucar into another headlock, wanting very much to roll his eyes. He grinned at the girl, what was her name again? Em-something?

    "I''m sorry. I am only here a short time, and have to get resupplied before I leave. But Sucar can join you, if you want."

    Sucar made muffled protests, trying to free himself from Krow''s grasp.

    "Of course!" The girl giggled at their antics.

    "Great!" Mercilessly, Krow dragged Sucar up the steps, calmly blocking the elbow that the younger was aiming at Krow''s ribs as he struggled.

    He stopped halfway to the table the girl and her mother were seated at.

    "Think of it this way," he lowered his voice. "Despite all the things you say you couldn''t do, despite all the things you think badly about yourself, she invited you to lunch just now."

    Sucar stopped struggling.

    "She invited you too," he said sullenly.

    "Because I said we were cousins."

    "<em>Why</em> did you say that?" Sucar griped, in a whisper.

    "You''re stupid when you''re panicking." Krow flicked a finger at his forehead. "Would she have told me anything if I said I was just some random stranger forcing my help on you?"

    "At least you know that!"

    Besides, Gojo said that all draculkar descended from one being, the First Ancestor, so it wasn''t technically a lie.

    "Hey, if I left you alone, you''d probably have iled all over the ced and fainted off a balcony in your panic."

    "Instead, I almost die to criminals in the sewers."

    Krow shed him a grin at the sass.

    "Which got you a connection with a training sergeant from the Guard," he pointed out. "Who do we know that wants to join the Guard, hm?"

    Sucar stilled.

    "Life is a challenge. The greater the difficulty, the greater the reward. Also, today, didn''t you pass a test that some university professor didn''t?"

    Sucar jolted, then frowned at him. "<em>You</em> passed that test."

    "If you weren''t there, I still would''ve passed," agreed Krow bluntly.

    "Are you supposed to be encouraging?!"

    "But not so smoothly, and not with the camaraderie that we ended up with." Camaraderie that came with making fun of Sucar, admittedly.

    Sucar paled again. "She invited me back for a drink."

    More like threatened, but that was semantics.

    Krow turned her down because he was leaving so she rounded on Sucar.

    "Just send her a bottle of something, cloud brandy maybe, for the Wintersturn holiday and she''d probably leave you alone." No she wouldn''t, Krow smirked inwardly.

    "Yes, yes alright." Sucar sighed in relief at being offered a course of action.

    The other really couldn''t think when panicking.

    He snorted and pushed the younger toward the table.

    "You''re noting?" That was almost squeaked.

    "Remember, she sees things in you that you can''t seem to see in yourself. And she''s a good enough friend that she''ll forgive your mistakes as long as you learn from them."

    "I¡­right. Yes. Thank you."

    "Good luck." Krow turned him around to face the two and pushed him firmly forward, waved at the table, and headed into the merchant district.

    Selling 250kg of meat at the butchers gained him 275 silver serpens, the equivalent of 11 gold drax.

    Not bad.

    It also gained him several quest prompts and ess to a few sets of Umon quality butcher knives.

    He could find another butcher to learn butcher skills from, but even the craftsmen were now not-so-subtly prompting him to join the military or the Guard?

    This Masters of War expansion was really thorough.

    Going to the weapon shop wiped out 9500 drax from his remaining cash.

    Joining his arsenal were 2000 Darkspear bullets, shadow aligned, 2000 Shieldburst bullets, no element, and five high-capacity belt cylinders for his revolver that took 16 bullets each.

    It wasn''t precisely a belt. It was a revolving belt encased in a rectangr frame, a fantasy bullet magazine that worked like an esctor instead of a step by step staircase.

    He wanted the ones that took 48 bullets, but they weren''tpatible with his revolver. Not to mention they were too bulky.

    If he upgraded his revolver, maybe he could find a belt cylinder with greater capacity. He could put a double barrel on the revolver!

    Fantasy guns, really.

    The shopping spree left him with just 4100 drax.

    That was more than even some Lvl 30s had these days, but still¡­

    His fingers drummed on his thigh.

    Maybe he should''ve just leased a warehouse? That wouldn''t have cost so much.

    He shook his head.

    No, buying was the best choice.

    This was probably the only time he''d be in Nyurajke before the Quake; this was thergest yer town closest to the draculkar capital of Velkenbragg.

    There were advantages to owningnd so close to a capital city. It made it easier to expand if you had history. True, that was a Zushkenar concern rather than a Rends one, but it was best to get it done now.

    If he wanted more cash, well, he still had two Unique weapons.

    Deconstructing them both would give him 30,000 drax total in raw material sales. Selling them whole, just above cost, would gain him more, possibly up to 45,000.

    But the advantages of spirit-binding his items using a Unique catalyst were immense for the future.

    The Starfall Revolver was his main weapon. With appropriate upgrades and enchants, it couldst him the whole of the game. The Starseeker Traveler Coat was his main torso armor and upper thigh armor.

    He had the Traveler Boots too, but he could bind those with another Rare feather. He had two feathers of that rarity left.

    Maybe he could bind the Coat with a feather and sell one of the Uniques?

    He frowned.

    What did he need the money for, anyway?

    He already had armor, a MND item, bullets, storage ¨C the basics. He''d like another MND essory or two, but not even selling the two Uniques would get him a good one.

    He breathed deeply.

    Protection, he decided.

    Protection was a more immediate need, more important.

    The craving for a visible store of cash was just his fear and insecurities acting up.

    He jogged up the steps of Tnweth Temple, mind made up.

    After the binding, he could start looking for a caravan to get through the Pass to West Marfall proper.

 Chapter 48 - [Bonus ] To The Maw

    Looking for a caravan to join was easier than Krow thought.

    Visiting Docent Ordoi after his bindings were done gained him the acquaintance of one of the docent''s rtives, a wagon driver for one of the caravans currently in Nyurajke.

    Even more pleasingly, they were leaving in the evening.

    "More efficient this way," one of the caravan guards shrugged as Krow helped him load supplies. "Seven hours up the Pass, we reach the Maw. Not the most pleasant eight hours through, and wee out of the Maw into morning sunshine on the main trade road. Won''t stop until dark, after that."

    "Is the caravan in a hurry?"

    Krow learned that there were two ways to go through the Pass. One was through the actual Pass between the mountains, which took two days, and the other was the Maw ¨C a tunnel that went under the mountains, which from what the driver said, took just fifteen hours.

    The guardughed. "We''re an EYTC caravan. The faster the better."

    Essax, Yaredtel, Talor, and Co. was one of the major tradepanies in Western Marfall. Insurance and seatrade, mostly.

    Hisst life had an ount with their bank in Baraldore.

    "I didn''t see a branch in Nyurajke."

    "There isn''t one. In the hignds, there''s only the Cyzarkka Bank allowed in the cities and towns."

    So hisst life''s impression of the draculkar race being insr wasn''t too off the mark. It was just less pronounced in this time.

    "Krow!" Docent Ordoi''s cousin''s nephew Charakh called from where he was adjusting the canvas on the frame of one of the wagons. "We''re leaving within the hour, so you should do a ready check of your own. Wouldn''t want to forget anything."

    Krow waved in acknowledgement.

    "I suggest water," murmured the guard. "There are many water sources on the journey, but it''s summer. Not all of them are drinkable. Go on."

    Krow was familiar with the practice; he''d lived near swamps that sirens had deliberately poisoned. The summer heat evaporated the water so much that water filtering magics and items couldn''t get all the toxins out.

    So even this far into the snowmelt territory, there were contaminated waters?

    Exciting.

    He nodded his thanks to the guard and jogged to Orddet''s. He remembered he had Spells being delivered.

    His trade-vault was fuller, he noticed.

    More Starseeker items and ethermica.

    The Spells, thankfully, had already arrived. He installed them into Spell Slots immediately.

    [Firecoil] allowed him to control a ribbon of me. It was mostly utility at this point, the ribbon being just thirty centimeters in length.

    Mastered, it was versatile. He could use it as a whip weapon, a shield, and to control the area of battle. Mostly, he bought it because there were a thousand and one instances where having viable source of fire was useful.

    [Shadowbind] was a crowd control spell, mainly. At Mastery, he could freeze or briefly control multiple high-level opponents by connecting with their shadows. Currently, he could only freeze one opponent in their tracks.

    It was a great spell for a solo yer.

    He''d seen it and its mastery upgrades used to devastating effect by several yers who didn''t even have Shadow alignments. With [Shadowbind], he wouldn''t lose that many bullets because his still shitty uracy with moving targets.

    The [Seeping Coral Greaves] and the [Healthful Gorget Ne] were added to his armor Equipset.

    "Equip-one."

    The equipment set automatically graced his body.

    Krow opened his profile to the avatar page. Seeing himself in armor, he grinned.

    He looked dangerous.

    A Lvl 5 in elite armor. What a disgrace, he smirked.

    If people could see all the Rares on his body, they''d excoriate him in word and video, as a pay-to-win yer.

    He chuckled. They wouldn''t be wrong, exactly.

    If ever transmigration to Zushkenar happened, he wanted to be rich, to have the buffer of resources.

    For him, winning was not going to war.

    For him, winning was to have to power to make his own choices, to have the strength to protect himself.

    He''d spend much for that.

    His goals were simple: at least Lvl 100 before the Quake, and a defensible manor estate.

    With physical and economic power, he could live a good life in Zushkenar. A better life than before.

    "Unequip-one."

    He exited Orddet''s with a light step and headed to the shops.

    Ten casks of water didn''t significantly damage his wallet, so he wandered into a sweetshop and chose a selection of candies.

    Charakh''s wagon was a passenger wagon, with several families from East Marfall. He wanted bribes for the instances the children wouldn''t leave him alone, were too noisy, were too energetic, and so forth.

    Walking toward the caravan, he saw the driver waving, already seated. The lead wagons of the caravan had already started moving out.

    He jogged to the wagon, boosted himself up to the driver''s bench.

    "Why does he get to sit up front?" piped up a milky voice.

    Krow turned to see a tiny human girl pouting behind the bench. He smiled. "Because I know how to use a weapon."

    "Papa can use a weapon."

    He nced at the man keeping a watch on the girl, while sending warning daggers at Krow with his eyes. Krow nodded amiably at him. "But if he sat here, he wouldn''t be able to sit with you. That''s very sad, don''t you think?"

    The girl thought for a moment, then nodded.

    Krow equipped his mask. He''d had to remove it when he and Sucar fled the sewers to the Guardhouse, but he was leaving town already.

    "Why are you wearing a mask?"

    He was a little morefortable with a mask, okay?

    Krow nced at Charakh, who had his scarf wound in fluffy coils around his lower face and neck.

    "Draculkar noses are sensitive," he came up with a viable excuse. "The wagon in front of us is carrying spices."

    "Really!" Another voice, young, joined the girl. Krow nced back to see a small vargvir grimacing. "You can smell that too?"

    "Arron¡­" came a cautionary voice from inside the wagon.

    "Our noses don''t quite have the sensitivity of the vargvir sense of smell, but yes."

    The boy was old enough that he understood the broader meaning. He sent Krow a fanged grin. "Our noses are the best!"

    "Of the nine races, yes," Krow answered absently, watching the circles of light that markedmps and torches on caravan wagons dance almost hypnotically in orderly lines up the mountainside. "Then the draculkar. Third by a far margin are the sirens, though they still smell far more than the rest of the races."

    There was a silence.

    Krow blinked, looked around to see everyone in earshot staring at him.

    "What?"

    The driver chuckled. "That''s a very strange thing to know."

    "I used to live with a very strange craftmaster."

    Actually, there was a ranking list on the forums, hisst life. But hey, he''d take every chance to me any of his weirdness on the old man.

    There was a yell from the front, then a shouted argument.

    "What was that?"

    Charakh shook his head. "Minor collision, likely. Don''t worry, happens all the time." He perked up as the wagon in front started to move. He clicked his tongue at the green-spine mules pulling the wagon. "Ho! We''re off!"

    He was answered by acknowledging yells from the wagons behind.

    Five hours up the mountain trail were actually soothing, if a little jarring here and there on the uneven road.

    That was when they were attacked.

    The guards took the brunt of it, but Krow downed three of the enraged windrats before they crushed the spokes of the wagonwheels in their strong jaws.

    He rounded the wagon, alert for more of the attacking herd.

    "Is it over?" the vargvir child peered over the back of the wagon. He was younger than Sein, probably not even ten years old.

    Krow grabbed one of the frame struts, pulled himself onto the end-gate so he wouldn''t be left behind by the still-moving wagon.

    "The guard sent most of the rats running."

    "Rats?"

    "Windrats. This high on the mountain, the biggest grow bigger than you. They were probably attracted by the smell of the produce on the cargo wagons. It''s night, so they attacked." In daytime, they''d not be so aggressive.

    "Oh. Like the wolves from before?"

    "Like the wolves." Krow agreed. "It''ste. You should go to sleep."

    The kid made a protesting sound, but a word from someone had him moving deeper into the wagon.

    Krow dropped off the end-gate and jogged to the front, returning to the driver''s bench.

    Charakh nodded at him. "You should get to bed. It''s looks less than three hours until moonset. Our eyes won''t be much use then."

    "A bit more."

    "Look." The driver pointed as they rounded a rock formation. "The Maw. Always get a chill when I see it."

    Moonlight shone on a small valley below them, lines of lights dancing through. But at the end of the valley, there was a darkness.

    It was a cavern, he realized. A massive one.

    It seemed to absorb moonlight, no light illuminated its insides. There were caravans there already. One by one, themps and torches of their wagons entered that darkness and faded, like they were being swallowed by a ck hole.

    "Have you gone through it before?"

    Krow''s skin crawled at the idea. He shook his head.

    The driver sighed. "Eight hours of being below ground. Not a good thing for draculkar, I tell you. I only drove it in its entirety once, and never want to do it again." He eyed Krow. "You should go wake Enned up. He''ll take over the driving and spare us."

    The moment the siren Enned took the reins, Krow settled into a nket and logged out.

    *

    The morning of Sunday, November 6, was bright and chilly, few clouds in the sky. The weather report warned of heavy rain in the afternoon.

    Eli showered in hot water.

    Eight hours through the Maw, the driver and guard said. He nced at the clock.

    He''d programmed moonset into his wallclock. Today it was noted at 10:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.

    He should return 2 p.m. at the earliest. That would be 7 a.m. in Rends.

    Walking out into the sunshine, thoughts of the cold dark underground path through the mountain melted away like a delicate snowke.

    The taxi station wasn''t crowded so much, and he was at the Haversun Activity Center before 10 a.m.

    The Center was buzzing with activity. Eli tried to remember a time when it was this charged with energy.

    He couldn''t.

    Even as unashamedly raucuous as old people could be, the Center always exuded serenity with its gracefully swooping lines and calming palette of pale shades and earthy hues.

    He entered the media hall. It had been renovated since he saw itst, with morefortable armchairs and what appeared to bepact power generators.

    He supposed the Center couldn''t exactly justify buying bio-cradles for the entertainment of senior citizens.

    A burst of arguing voices turned his head. He wasn''t surprised to see his aunt''s group. He turned on a heel and made for the corner they''d staked out.

    Only, another person was entering the room. They nearly collided.

    "Sorry!" came the yelps from three mouths.

    "Oh, it''s you!"

    Eli looked up, adjusting his sses. He stared. They stared.

    He huffed augh. "You again."

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Notes:

    *

    Equipped profile:

    Head: -

    Face: -

    Shoulders: -

    Chest: [Starseeker Travelcoat] [B+ Unique]

    Arms: -

    Hands: [Bonewood Gauntlets] [C Rare] [Floral]

    Waist: [Mindyer''s Belt] [C Rare] [Air]

    Legs: -

    Feet: [Starseeker Travelboots] [B Rare]

    Main Weapon: [Starfall Revolver] [A- Unique]

    ***

    Equipment set: [Equip-one]

    Head: -

    Face: -

    Shoulders: [Lightless Kraken-skin Pauldrons] [A+ Rare ][Shadow]

    Chest: [Starseeker Travelcoat] [B+ Unique]

    Arms: [Exiled Seafarer''s Bracers] [B Rare] [Water]

    Hands: [Bonewood Gauntlets] [C Rare] [Floral]

    Waist: [Mindyer''s Belt] [C Rare] [Air]

    Legs: [Seeping Coral Greaves] [C Rare] [Water]

    Feet: [Starseeker Travelboots] [B Rare]

    *

    essories:

    0/1 Brow: -

    1/6 Ear: [Dusk Illusion Mask Earclips] [C Rare] [Shadow]

    1/3 Neck: [Whisker Ne] [B Rare]

    2/3 Neck: [Healthful Gorget Ne] [C Rare]

    *0/2 Upper Arm:

    0/4 Wrist:

    0/6 Finger:

    0/4 Ankle:

    *0/2 Toe:

    Note*: Toe and Upper Arm essory slots are only avable to premium ount users.

 Chapter 49 - Interlude: Rashid

    Rashid Li liked talking about the things he loved.

    He''d gotten hooked into the VR world early in life, his older brother Anand being part of the team that developed Halfworld.

    After a tour of thepany Anand worked in, he realized his interests were different from his programmer brother, being more attracted to the hum of a perfectly put-together machine than the flow of elegantly-written code on a monitor.

    He pursued VR engineering with enthusiasm and joy.

    The job market for VR-tech engineers waspetitive; even multiple degrees would not help that much, and he didn''t want to depend on the strings his brother pulled.

    He needed an edge, something he could show to his name. He started designing a VR rig for extra-terrestrial mining.

    Anand told him it was too ambitious in the same breath that he offered his programming assistance. Space mining had been one of the most dangerous jobs in the sr system before people interfaced VR to control precision robotics.

    The care needed to mine the delicate material that was so useful in processor cubes and the sr panels that powered half the Earth and most of the nearer colonies in the sr system was immense.

    And yet, it had been years since the mining interface was updated.

    It was to be an undertaking of years.

    In the meantime, his love of talking about his favorite things transitioned into teaching about his favorite things. He joined a VR awareness group to lecture on the subject to schools, businesses, and more.

    Teaching was calming in ways he didn''t expect, as he designed his VR mining rig.

    It was Anand who brought Rends Craftmasters to his attention.

    "I already work with my hands," he protested. "How could this be interesting?"

    "It''s VR. You like VR!" His brother insisted. "You should see their programming!"

    He didn''t expect to fall in love.

    Rends Craftmasters was exquisite. It was truly another world, an artisan''s dreamworld.

    Everything from pottery, to sculpting, woodworking, cksmithing, weaving, baking, ssmaking and more ¨C ancient crafts that were in the current era entirely done with machines.

    It wasn''t a popr game, but ying Craftmasters became his favorite was to recharge.

    Over the years, the crafting systems got better and better. Fantasy crafting was introduced and attracted more yers. Rashid had many friends in the game. The world became even more detailed as new monsters and materials entered the lives of the craftmasters.

    Then RSI bought the game.

    There was unrest among the yers for a while.

    RSI started as a securitypany, then branched out into AI research and medical technologies. What would they want with Craftmasters?

    But then the NPCs changed, became more dynamic, more meaningful in their interactions.

    The world changed.

    Rashid didn''t know what to think. It was a better game, of course, but was it ethical? He watched as his game friends turned off the indicators that differentiated yer from NPC, as yers integrated more into the virtual world of Craftmasters, as his friends started introducing NPCs to him as if they were real people when they never had before, spending more and more time in the unreal world of VR.

    It was disquieting.

    This world of Craftmasters was exquisite, but it wasn''t reality.

    To act as if it were, as if the NPC AIs were living beings¡­he couldn''t help but be apprehensive.

    One year after RSI bought Craftmasters, Rashid finished a working prototype of his design, five years after he started and several hundred thousand ecru spend from the money his grandparents left him.

    "It''s not yet ready," he stated to Anand, who''d be just as invested in the project."

    "Little brother, it doesn''t have to be perfect."

    "I''m not looking for perfect. It doesn''t feel ready."

    Anand shrugged. "I have to check the code again, anyway. The reaction times are off."

    Rashid resigned from the VR awareness tour to concentrate on the prototype. It was only part-time, but he was reluctant. His hours in Craftmasters fell from eight to four per day. As a full-fledged high master in the game, he didn''t need a lot of time to conduct the business of his workshop.

    Six monthster, a friend from the tour concernedly brought up the dark circles under his eyes and the gauntness of his frame.

    The co-worker messaged him an offer to do a series of tutorial videos on Craftmasters.

    He couldn''t refuse.

    That''s when he learned that they weren''t tutorials for Craftmasters, but a new expansion. Masters of War.

    He was dazed. The expansion was against all he knew of the maker of Craftmasters. Surely Orven Norge wouldn''t allow it?

    But he did.

    When news of the expansion trickled out, and craftmasters exploded in outrage, he even made a speech. Progress, building on what came before, a leap into a greater future.

    Rashid had reservations, but he''d already signed the contract.

    He made the tutorials, testing out the new system.

    It was a great game, he felt. It just wasn''t Craftmasters.

    RSI announced the expansion three months before its release, a surprise to many.

    Rashid finished his prototype to satisfaction.

    He had it tested immediately.

    The R&D tech he''d contacted from Hareon Inteary instantly forwarded a rmendation to thepany''s R&D director.

    There were demonstrations, meetings, contract negotiations, and finally a job offer.

    It was exhausting. It was exhrating.

    Entering HI was a dreame true for any engineer. Their VR department was second to none. This was what he was meant to do, he felt. This was what he had studied for years to do. It felt like flying.

    He met Arcazy Ventre after their interview, tasked with showing new hires around R&D.

    They were of simr age, hired into thepany at nearly the same time. It wasn''t bad to have friends who understood when he talked about VR.

    Arcazy had immediately challenged his views on portable reality tech the first day they met, able to converse for hours upon hours.

    This was better.

    He made new friends.

    He worked.

    He kept busy.

    Craftmasters had fallen to the wayside, so he was a bit surprised when RSI contacted him to say that instead of the remaining videos he still had to do, they wanted him to conduct introductory lectures on a VR tourist feature for the game that was still in beta development.

    It was a sudden jolt of unpleasantness.

    He wanted nothing more than to break the contract. But he preferred to go above and beyond, to end his contracts on the perfect note.

    VR tourism?

    In a game as exquisite as Craftmasters, he could see why it could be marketed. But it was another mark against the gamepany.

    Serious yers would rail against the feature, seeing it as a sellout move.

    The hardware for most VR tourism was shit.

    The headgear only needed to render excellent visuals. It didn''t have the aggressive processing power that VR battles required, because it must be cheap enough for the average person to buy.

    And what then of him, who had to y tour guide to people who would not know, and likely preferred not to know, what it was like to truly immerse oneself into another world.

    With his worries, he''d honestly never thought twice of Eli Crewan until they met in a dark alley when on his way to Arcazy''s apartment.

    Even if his prediction of a crafting resurgence came about, Craftmasters was already too different from the world of before.

    Evolution.

    Rashid was intelligent. In the upper percentiles of recorded intelligence on Earth, even. His work had already changed the world of extra-terrestrial mining. But that was a quantifiable change - he''d seen it happen. He''d worked for it.

    The VR world was too malleable.

    Meeting Eli Crewan for a third time gave him something of a cognitive dissonance. Certain of Zee''s friends had ranted of sullen silences, brooding resentments, of unwarranted arrogance.

    The man now leading a group of elderly tourists through the virtual resort wasughing with his aunt, keeping them entertained with stories about the moons, thends of the game, the architecture of different races.

    Rashid could appreciate someone who did quality research.

    He watched as with ament here and there tied to various things in the resort, the group immersed into the world of Craftmasters more quickly than anticipated or expected.

    Cenree, beside him, was staring too.

    "I guess he''s getting over his mother''s death?" she mumbled with a curious grin.

    Rashid considered.

    It was thest seminar on his contract, and he''d noted how fast each test group assimted in previous sessions.

    That a group of elderly people who had gone through most of their lives without VR tech had one of the fastest immersion times of all was significant.

    That Eli Crewan appeared at the end of his contract was almost like fate.

    This was the end of his contract, he decided. This was the note that was above and beyond.

    The director of the VR tourism department had made noises about extending his contract. If he gave him Eli Crewan, the man would probably concede to Rashid terminating his contract peaceably.

    He approached the man after the seminar was over.

    "Eli, right? Would you like a job?"

    Rashid liked teaching about his favorite things.. But he loved making them more.

 Chapter 50 - Take A Leap Off A Cliff, Again (1)

    Eli learned to speak like a trader in Zushkenar, spouting about the view,plimenting the room d¨¦cor, the clothes, the jewelry, anything that interested the client about themselves, while subtly steering those interests to benefit his wares.

    He never thought the skill would get him a job offer on earth.

    He hadn''t even been selling anything!

    Tour coordinator?

    What even.

    The only reason he didn''t reject the offer outright was the fact that his bank ount was down to 190 ecru. He''d just received a drone delivery of his second order of ZombieFluid, arger package than the first.

    He watched through the introductory materials the manager of the Rends VR tourism unit gave him ess to when he said he''d think about it.

    He hadn''t agreed yet, you know, manager!

    Was he allowed to view these materials? The manager did say the Rends VR tour was still in beta.

    What in hell did Rashid say to make the manager so amenable?

    He really wanted to know.

    Shkav, he didn''t have the guy''s phonecodes.

    He paused the ying video on the crystal divider screen and looked out the window. Rain wasing down heavily, pounding on the outer fa?ade of the building, on the balcony, sttering on the ss of the windows.

    Just the first video and Eli was impressed.

    The VR tour department went all out with the range of activities ¨C sea cruises, hot springs, sky cruises, festivals, fruit pickings and flower viewings, races in various locations with various mounts, contests, historical re-enactments and ys, music, extreme sports, something for people of all ages, active or passive tourists.

    There were even several virtual zoological and botanical preserves for rare Earth animals and nts, extinct Earth animals and nts, Zushkenari monsters ¨C enough for a ten-year-long safari tour.

    There was a n for a series of Resort Instances ¨C farm resorts, spa resorts, swim in an authentic Roman bathing pool resorts, underwater resorts, cloudcity resorts, resorts in any kind of environment and historical era possible.

    Shkav, they even had a dinosaur park.

    Eli wasn''t a techgeek, but even he knew that building that much into a virtual environment took tons upon tons of data. Maintaining it would take hundreds of thousands a year.

    The VR tourism department of Rends was serious as Hades.

    And maybe Eli did want to see what all the cruises were about.

    But¡­tour coordinator?

    He reyed the video, then turned it off.

    Checking the forums, he did see some noise about a VR tourism feature for Rends ¨C most yers were dismissive. He found himself reading a collection of epic vargvir prose poetry with raised brows.

    Apparently it was from an in-game book?

    He frowned. Gazzy was a schr. Why would he say there was no Lore if the lore might have been hidden inside Rends itself?

    He would have read those books.

    Eli was digressing. He flipped away the epic stories and searched for more on the nned tourism feature.

    Nothing important.

    Why was he even researching?

    Tour coordinator was just a fancy name for tour guide sh babysitter.

    He huffed and got off the forums.

    He''d think on it moreter.

    It was 3:15 p.m. The caravan had been out of the Maw for over two in-game hours already and everyone was probably awake.

    Eli headed for his room.

    *

    Krow opened his eyes to the sounds of battle, and a notification.

    :|100 Bandits Encounter!|:

    [One hundred bandits are attacking your caravan! Will you help defeat the bandits, or join them? 32/100]

    Enned, bow in hand and arrow nocked ready,ughed as he stumbled out of his nkets. "You sleep well! I made a wager you would not wake until the bandits stuck their des in you."

    Krow grunted, armed himself. He nced into the wagon, noted that two of the adults had been left to protect the children. He nodded at them and mbered out.

    A small wed hand grabbed his coat. "Are you going to see uma? Is sheing?"

    "If I see her, I''ll tell her you asked."

    The grip tightened, the small furry ears bent back nearly horizontal.

    Krow pulled out a packet of candy. "You''re the oldest of the children, aren''t you? Do you know the Vargfarinel?"

    The boy nodded.

    "Go tell the story of Guined Golden-ear to the others. By the time it''s done, everything will be over too."

    The boy took the sweets, nodded determinedly. Krow ruffled his hair.

    That wasn''t too bad. At least his trawling in the forums earlier came in handy.

    Krow was never a reader. But possibly he should start a library. Who knew what other useful things were in the in-game books.

    He made for a rock pir nearby that had scraggly trees growing out of it for cover. "Equip-one."

    The caravan had stopped, the mules blindered.

    They had gotten into what protective formation they could, but the caravan was long andrge. Most was unprotected as the guards rode into battle.

    They''d been ambushed.

    Of course, every caravan is prepared for ambush, but still. In practice, in panic, things don''t always go as nned.

    Krow scaled the tower carefully, looking for enemies, ttened himself on a ledge near the top.

    A dark shadow moved in a tree.

    Taking quick aim, he fired off half the bullets in his belt cylinder.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 6 bandit and gained two (2) silver serpens!]

    The body fell.

    Eight regr bullets for a Lvl 6?

    His new spirit-bound revolver was really overkill.

    He didn''t really know how archer and sharpshooter damage was calcted. Only that the quality and enchants of both revolver and bullets, bow and arrows, yed a massive part.

    His revolver was rated A- Unique.

    Which Lvl 5 yer had such a weapon?

    If he''d still been using the unranked Starfall Revolver, he''d need more than twice those eight bullets to down a Lvl 6.

    He narrowed his eyes on the corpse. Rough leather armor, ck pauldron with red bird, a ck mask reminiscent of feathers.

    The Bloodcrow group was thergest bandit gang in Marfall.

    They were involved in most of the major criminal activities across the continent. Krow supposed they could be called a crime syndicate, but the bandit group was the most visible of their people.

    He''d been at the mastery examinations when word spread that a coalition of transmigrators and natives had caught the leaders of the Bloodcrow group. The gang had splintered afterwards. He''d been there when a guild took down a major cell ¨C some yer transmigrators believing they could be criminal kings of the continent.

    Krow swapped his regr bullets for a belt-cylinder containing darkspear bullets.

    He dropped three more trying to crawl their way to the caravan. Each took a bullet, just one.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 6 bandit and gained two (2) silver serpens!]

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 7 bandit and gained two (2) silver serpens!]

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 4 bandit and gained one (1) silver serpens!]

    They were likely in search of hostages. Or ves.

    A crash to his right and a vargvir flew through a screen of vines, snarling, tumbled to the ground and rolled to her feet just in time to parry an arrow from a Bloodcrow archer supporting another charging at her with an axe.

    Krow dropped the archer, then another following that needed two darkspears. He narrowed his eyes. His revolver was a Unique.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 7 bandit and gained two (2) silver serpens!]

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 10 bandit captain and gained five (5) silver serpens!]

    The vargvir sliced up her opponent with a sweep of her ive, using the momentum to decapitate one that popped up behind her, out of the brush.

    The only ones left, she and Krow breathed through the rush of blood in their veins.

    "Anymore close?"

    The vargvir nced toward him, hackles still raised, ears stiff and high, eyed him crouched on the pir, but then shook her head once.

    He dropped down beside her, looked over the dead bandits.

    First kill. He stared, swallowing.

    Bandits. They were bandits, he reminded himself. He''d learned in Zushkenar, bandits deserved no quarter.

    Even that didn''t ameliorate the sick feeling in his gut.

    He''d killed before. He knew how it felt. Why did this feel¡­

    "First time?" The vargvir must have heard his heart beating, his stomach roiling.

    In this world.

    He nodded simply, a single jerk of the head.

    "They''re bandits," she said, unknowingly echoing his thoughts. "More than that, they''re Bloodcrow."

    "Yes."

    He had the feeling that, if he weren''t draculkar, she''d have pped him in the shoulder in sympathy.

    Her ear flicked. "This way."

    He followed, quiet.

    He had no intention of voicing that his agitation came not because he was uneasy about taking a life.

    The repugnance was because he felt nothing.

    Was it because it was Rends and not Zushkenar?

    No. He still remembered the faces of those he''d killed in the Rends of before too.

    They sped silent through the scrub.

    The sh of fighting reached Krow''s ears.

    This was not the time.

 Chapter 51 - Take A Leap Off A Cliff, Again (2 Of 2)

    Several guards were fighting arge group of bandits on a narrow teau.

    They weren''t surrounded, but they were pinned against a cliff edge with a drop at least a kilometer to the bottom.

    The only reason they were still standing was the need to protect the injuredrades behind them. Simrly, saidrades, unable to fight in melee but to a one with eyes containing glowing bright fighting spirit, supporting with ranged spells and ranged weapons, others with rocks and debris.

    The vargvir at Krow''s side crashed into the fray.

    Krow picked off the ranged fighters first. Given that there were only two, that still left nearly two dozen bandits against six guards still upright, the vargvir, and Krow.

    Uneven odds still.

    He doublejumped for a higher vantage point. The scrum was chaotic enough that he might plug a darkspear into an ally. He started thinning the bandit group from above, keeping them off those fighting for the caravan.

    Seeing as the caravan was behind him, he didn''t expect it.

    A force mmed into his shoulder from the back, and he tumbled off his perch. 5% HP gone, even with his pauldrons. Shkav.

    Pulling the arrow out, he inhaled sharply at the sting and ache. Even with a reduced sense of pain, that hurt.

    He downed two Low Heals before searching the high ground nearby, sending periodical darkspears into the fray when he could.

    His HP was 330, currently. 5%, with his defensive rating because of the Rare armor and the B+ Unique that was his Starseeker Travelcoat, was not a small sum.

    He frowned at the arrow. [Green Velvet Arrow][B Umon]

    He heard a rustle behind him, rolled forward unhesitating, into the melee.

    He shot two dead before he could turn to face¡ª

    "I challenge you!"

    [You''ve been challenged to battle!][Arvidane Lvl 10]

    What, now?!

    An arrow plunged into his gut.

    He ripped it out, ring.

    This was a guard, he remembered. One of the guards of the caravan.

    "Betrayal!" roared the vargvir when she too, noticed.

    Several banditsughed and pressed their attacks harder. The caravan defenders took a step back.

    But the guard ¨C the yer was not on the side of the bandits.

    Krow dodged a third arrow, jumped away from a bandit sword.

    He stepped into the shadow of a bush and triggered Shadowbind. The challenger froze. Krow dodged another bandit weapon ¨C a spear, snapped off several darkspear bullets at the bandits.

    Then the revolver clicked empty.

    He swapped with another darkspear cylinder, aimed at the yer guard.

    Toote.

    His Shadowbind wasn''t that strong.

    Two darkspears of the six he shot hit the yer, Arvidane, who grunted and dodged but otherwise was fine.

    One darkspear had downed a Lvl 9 bandit. This Lvl 10 yer ¨C what ss Skill did he take at Lvl 10? A Defense Skill? His equipment was also notmon.

    His next two bullets missed, to his frustrated snarl.

    He tried to disengage. Two arrows striking into his path sent him back near the melee.

    Arvidaneughed. "Rich boy, your armor''s mine. Don''t even try to run."

    What.

    Krow''s lip curled.

    He understood.

    This was one of those who hunted other yers for their equipment. One of simr type to those he avoided at Orddet''s.

    He was trying to divide Krow''s attention between him and the bandits.

    Krow refused.

    He triggered Shadowbind again, expending all his MP. The yer''s eyes widened. Krow sent three darkspears at him while jumping away from the scrum. They all hit.

    He snapped off the rest of his bullets into the bandits, giving him space to swap cylinders again.

    Four guards now and the vargvir against the remaining seven bandits.

    Better odds.

    The yer Arvidane furiously shot three arrows at Krow as he got free.

    Krow dodged, and shot. Hit.

    He was answered by an arrow digging into his thigh. The pain had him drop to a knee, cursing.

    Six darkspears and the opponent was still standing.

    Krow tore the arrow out of his thigh, dodging as he did. He nced at his status, grimaced.

    25% HP gone and ticking lower from the Bleeding effect of two arrows.

    He dodged, dodged again.

    "Stay still!" The yer Arvidane growled.

    Why? His acrobatic dexterity was his main advantage against the challenger''s arrows. Three more arrows and his HP would fall under 50%, diminishing his stats by 10%.

    The other had taken six darkspears from a grade A- Unique weapon and was still standing strong.

    Krow couldn''t win this, not head to head.

    Quickly thinking as he dodged, he blinked.

    It was a challenge.

    There were three ways to end a challenge: first, you won; second, you lost; third, you ran away.

    There were penalties to the third, though less than the second. Either way, the opponent in the challenge would benefit.

    The third also depended on leaving fast enough that the challenger could not pursue.

    There was a n there.

    No way was he giving that bastard any benefit from his challenge.

    He flung himself behind a rock pir, swapped the darkspear cylinder with the single one he''d loaded with shieldburst bullets.

    Peer out the pir. Dodge again.

    He shot a bullet at Arvidane''s foot. The shield, blooming from the bullet, knocked the yer off his feet. Negligible damage.

    Another shieldburst between them stopped an arrow.

    Krow exhaled relief.

    He shot another shieldburst at the other''s feet, nced at his status.

    Weeping graves, his MP recovery was so slow.

    He just needed 110MP.

    To get that, he needed to stall.

    Shieldburst, dodge, and stall.

    The other was enraged enough that Krow braced himself for a charge, when his MP ticked past the 110 mark.

    Finally.

    He shot a shieldburst at Arvidane again.

    Waited a second, then shot at the foot of one of the bandits. The shield threw the Bloodcrow into two others.

    Krow dodged an arrow, edging backward.

    Come on,e on¡­

    An arrow struck him almost at the same site as the first wound, only this time from the front.

    He winced.

    65% HP remaining, and another Bleeding debuff added.

    He pretended to il.

    Another arrow struck below the first, into the upper portion of his heart.

    [Critical Hit!]

    Shkav! That wasn''t in the n.

    The force of the strike tipped him backward, off the edge of the cliff.

    He fell.

    Krow''s left arm felt paralyzed. He flicked his revolver into the Inventory, not having the coordination to holster it in midair. Then ripped the arrows out.

    48% HP.

    It was fine, he reminded himself. This was still the n.

    Wait for it¡­

    [You have left the challenge area.]

    Yes!

    He twisted to m a foot into the cliff face, enough to get some air, triggered Doublejump and aimed himself downward.

    He was lucky the cliff was steep and not sloping.

    Or he''d hit the slope and tumble all the way down to the bottom.

    He probably wouldn''t survive that.

    The Doublejump Spell was only enough for a single change of direction in air added to a brief burst of momentum. Seeing as he was going downward, he didn''t think that momentum would bleed off as quickly as the instances when he jumped against gravity.

    Big problem. The cliff was high, but not high enough for his MP recovery to allow him another Doublejump. And he was going slightly faster than freefall.

    Krow pulled himself into a ball, took out a grapplehook, tried to angle himself into a gentle nt. He crashed boot-first into the treetops.

    He pulled his limbs and head in.

    He was lucky the ground sloped.

    The twiggy thin branches at the tops of the trees slowed him down without too much injury apart from countlessshings and the grapplehook caught and took even more of the force of the fall.

    He was stopped, hanging from the rope, before he went st into a tree trunk or arge branch that was less squishy than he was.

    39% HP.

    He groaned. The realism of Rends had him spit bubbly pink blood. That was a nicked lung.

    Heughed a little, despite himself. That was too realistic, right?

    95% realism.

    Great.

    He probably should''ve waited until he had enough MP for two Doublejumps, Krow thought faintly.

    He slowly swung until he could deposit himself onto arge enough branch. His stats were diminished; he needed to be a little more careful.

    He tugged on the rope. The hook didn''te loose. With a frustrated sound, he tossed the rope away to hang from the canopy like a knobbly vine.

    He climbed down to a branch much morefortable in supporting his weight, and slumped against the tree trunk. His body was full of aches.

    He nced at his status.

    Major Bleeding. Minor Poison. Major Exhaustion.

    When did he get the poison?

    Krow started quaffing vials of Low Heal until the Bleeding stopped and his HP recovered. Then he did the same to Low Revitalit potions, letting the empty vials drop uncaringly to the forest floor, still far below him.

    These weren''t grandshield trees, but they wererge and tall.

    Minor Poison.

    Ah, damn. He''d forgotten to buy Antidote.

    No wait, the Starseeker Extended Traveler Kits should have some. He took a Kit out of his Inventory, opened it to the potionpartment. Three vials of Smallpoison Antidote. Three vials of Bonebreak Ease. Three vials of Burncure. Three vials of Low Heal. Three vials of Revitalit. Three vials of Parasite Purge.

    He chugged an Antidote. The debuff disappeared.

    Then ten secondster, he blinked.

    Minor Poison.

    It had returned to his status.

    What.

    He thought he''d been scratched by a bandit''s poisoned de or something simr.

    He looked around.

    Weeping skies, the trees were poisonous?!

    Then on arge arrow-shaped leaf, Krow saw a sight that sent a slow chill down his spine.

    It was a caterpir, fully ck from head to ws, with tworge golden frond-like antennae.

 Chapter 52 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (1)

    Nighteye Caterpir.

    Of the monsters he''d encountered since he joined the game this time around, it was the first one he recognized from another life.

    Of all the monsters he knew, why did this one have to be the first.

    Krow reached cautiously for some of the arrowhead-shaped leaves, poking gingerly with a butcher''s knife to see if anything jumped out before plucking therge green leafdes.

    [The challenge has ended! Both parties forfeit without penalty.]

    Oh who cared!

    He was in a tree with a colony of caterpirs that ate meat, alright?!

    His only saving grace was that they ate leaves too, and most of the leaves of the tree he was in were away from the trunk!

    Krow breathed, calming himself.

    There was one loophole to ending a battle challenge without winning that didn''t bring penalties. It was if it was the opponent''s fault that you went out of bounds and then they didn''t or couldn''t pursue.

    Like keeping out of monster aggro zones, he had to stay away for 100 seconds.

    He smirked briefly, imagining that Arvidane yer''s rage at seeing the notification.

    The fury if he knew what Krow was doing now.

    Nighteye Caterpirs gave good materials.

    Krow wasn''t about to squander this chance.

    He gathered enough leaves to make arge mound, then climbed to one of the wide lower branches. He piled the leaves in a mound nearly as tall as he was, chopped off some dry bark from the trunk and branches, then lit that tinder under the green leaves with a torch from his Inventory.

    Soon, sweet-smelling smoke wafted through the branches of the massive tree.

    Krow settled on a branch under the smoke-pile, tipping his head back to watching the smoke curl and dance around the arrowhead-shaped leaves.

    They were called dandelion trees, for therge balls of white fluff that dotted the leafy canopies, when seen from afar were so reminiscent of the dandelion pappus. But these white fluffy things on the trees weren''t flowers, but clusters of cocoons.

    When he deemed the smoke had made the caterpirs sleepy enough that they wouldn''t tackle him en masse, he tossed back an Antidote vial and started gathering more leaves.

    He exchanged the pauldrons he was wearing for his hooded cloak, pulling the hood up.

    When he filled half his Inventory with leaves, he started jumping from dandelion tree to dandelion tree, lighting smoke-piles on the lower branches of as many as he could.

    Nighteye caterpirs were poisonous and aggressive. They hatched from the eggs of the Nighteye Butterfly. Krow was grateful it was summer season in Rends, when the butterflies migrated east to the Dawn Sea.

    He really didn''t want to fight a horde of meat-eating butterflies.

    When he finished lighting the smoke-piles, he settled on lower branches to avoid most of the smoke.

    [You have participated in :|100 Bandits Encounter!|: and eliminated 13/100 bandits!]

    [You''ve gained 1 RP with Marfall Continent!]

    Woo, yes!

    Continental RP, and he hadn''t reached Lvl 10 yet.

    The caravan must be on its way again.

    The others would''ve seen him fall off a high cliff after all. No one would look for him. If the robber-challenger had a movement spell, he''d have found Krow by now.

    So it was goodbye to the caravan.

    He coughed, nced at his status.

    Minor Poison.

    He flipped the caps of two vials of Low Revitalit and drank them one after the other.

    This was Rends, and that meant he could abuse Low Revitalit to keep the effects of the smoke at bay.

    He''d have keeled over already, if he did this in Zushkenar.

    He plopped himself down on the branch, eyeing the forest floor warily.

    Then he broke open his belt-cylinders to start reloading, the steady click-click-click sound of bullets fitting into ce calming him.

    Nighteye Butterflies were the source of Nighteye Powder, which was used to make Darksight Potion. It allowed people to see in the deep dark, like Dryads. Useful for underground and undersea exploration, as well as moonset expeditions.

    The powder was also used as a catalyst in several sight-rted enchants.

    Nighteye Caterpirs though¡­.

    The immature ones with ck antennae are used for poison cures and the Revitalit potion.

    The mature ones are hunted for their golden antennae, sold as a material called ''auric feathers'' in the markets, and its venom which is sold as ''ckvenin''.

    A mature caterpir is as rabid as a wolverine when provoked, and its bite has paralyzing properties. The poisonous parts were the soft spiny cilia running down its sides.

    Mature caterpirs survived on dandelion tree leaves and fresh meat. Due to the paralyzing bite, often it was fresh, still alive, meat.

    When a nighteye caterpir fully matured, it went into a feeding frenzy and spun a cocoon.

    Nighteye silk was rated E+ Umon.

    Every material with a quality grade was enchantable, of course, but under D-, they couldn''t be used as armor or weapons. E+ Rare was luxury goods for the wealthiest ¨C for royalty, rich nobles and richer merchants.

    E+ Umon wasn''t that level of notoriety, but silk was always a sought-after material. Enchantable silks more so. He''de across at least eight types of silk in Zushkenar, and they were all expensive.

    The dandelion tree grove had maybe sixty or seventy trees.

    Krow could almost count the drax.

    It normally took a party to harvest, but that was mostly because of the amount of work involved. The dangers were ameliorated when the leaf-smoke method was discovered and publicized.

    That was maybe four years after the Quake? Perhaps five.

    Conservation efforts had been going strong then, and theplete decimation of monster nests was banned. The leaf-smoke method was weed and widely rmended because it allowed the hunters to easily harvest while leaving ''seeds'' behind to replenish the nest.

    A nest this size¡­he''d only be allowed to take half at most.

    But here in Rends, even if he killed every caterpir and unraveled every cocoon, the nest would respawn after a few weeks.

    Even if he returned here to harvest the next respawning, there would still be cocoons to hatch in the middle of winter to terrorize nearby viges. The strongest butterflies would survive to spring, when the rest of the horde would migrate back to mate andy eggs in the dandelion groves all over the south of the continent. Then all the butterflies would leave again in the summer and the cycle would start over.

    He heard a thump. Another. And another.

    Caterpirs fell from their leafy perches, one by one.

    Krow armed himself.

    Another thing about dandelion tree groves.

    They were not simply ces for Nighteye Butterflies toy eyes. If the cycle happened long enough, the groves became an ecosystem of monsters and harvestable nts.

    The fertile, poisonous soil made from caterpir and butterfly waste attracted the massive whitecloud earthworm. A whitecloud earthworm nest would attract various predators but none so often near as the thunder badgermole.

    The falling caterpirs would attract the tunneling moles ¨C their methods of prey detection simr to stonesharks in that they used vibrations to ''see'' and hunt.

    He squawked as a caterpir, curled into a ball twicerger than his fist, thumped onto his head before falling to the ground below.

    "Should''ve bought a helmet," he grumbled, like he hadn''t tossed all his money at the Bourse.

    He rubbed his hooded head. "Ow."

    A low rumbling from below silenced the rest of his griping.

    The soil, already loosened by the travails of earthworms and thunder-badgermoles, lifted up in a wave.

    Krow''s stomach clenched.

    Thest time he saw something like that¡­

    Faint screams, only memories, resounded in his ears. He gripped the revolver tighter and aimed.

    One darkspear. Two. Three.

    The thunder quieted, the monster stilled, yet half buried in the soil.

    [You''ve gained one (1) silver serpens from a monster!]

    Krow crouched on the tree branch, gun still aimed.

    Thunder sounded again, further away, urgent. Two monsters in a territory, a mated pair. The approaching monster was therger, the low rumble that allowed its ''seeing'' louder and more resounding.

    The tree Krow was in heaved.

    Shkav!

    How stupid could he be?! He''d fought simr monsters before.

    Initiative was important, and speed and agility.

    But he was fighting alone, and had no other to distract it.

    Brute force it was.

    Krow swapped to his shieldburst cylinder. Pointed at the ground. The loose soil exploded at the sides of the shield,pressed under.

    The rumbling grew louder, more deliberate.

    Krow shot again and again.

    There!

    For a moment, dark fur exposed.

    He swapped to darkspears and emptied half the cylinder into the earth.

    [You''ve gained two (2) silver serpens from a monster!]

    He heaved a breath in relief.

    Why could this nest not be simple, like the windrats on the higher peaks. Those only had windrats in them.

    Godforsaken monster factories.

    Nests like these were old, used by generations. A dandelion tree grove would always attract Nighteye Butterflies. And soon, the whitecloud earthworms would appear, which would attract thunder-badgermoles. The earthworms and moles would be prey for the caterpirs and butterflies, then the corpses and waste would enrich the soil for a number of useful flora and of course to grow more dandelion trees.

    He quaffed a Low Revitalit, eyeing the Minor Poison debuff.

    It wouldn''t remove the effect, but it kept it from growing to Major status.

    He stood, stretched.

    He should start working.

    This was a middlingrge grove.

    It wouldn''t be long before he needed to replenish the smoke-piles, or the caterpirs would pile on him en masse.

    Krow shuddered at the thought.

    First he jumped down to the forest floor, tapping the ground warily, and tossed the two thunder-badgermoles into his inventory before quickly returning to the trees. The moles'' approach would have scared away the whitecloud earthworms briefly.

    Then he begun harvesting the cocoons, pitching them into his Inventory along with the immature caterpirs. The mature caterpirs, he left for the moment.

    Those needed to be butchered on site.

    He had to stop twice to keep the smoke-piles going, as the day turned into noon, then afternoon.

    The shadows were starting to lengthen, approaching mid-afternoon, when he started the butchering.

 Chapter 53 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (2)

    Butchering a nighteye caterpir was simple, but not easy.

    First, hold it in a way to avoid the soft poison spines on its back.

    Krow changed to [gue Doctor''s Gauntlets] for that.

    Then using a sharp knife, slice off the top of the headcase that hold the antennae, in such a way as not to damage the fangs on the upper jaw.

    The body was next.

    Flipping to slice open the soft undersides wasn''t exactly wrong. But for greater precision and less chance of nicking the venom sacs, if you had the sort of knife that could part a falling silk handkerchief into halves with nary a whisper or hardship, you should open at the top, between the spines studded in two parallel lines down the caterpir body.

    Fortunately, Krow had such a knife.

    The Umon quality butcher knives he acquired in Nyurajke came in sets of four. A cleaver that had the length of a machete, a meat knife, a skinning knife, a boning knife.

    Of the four, the skinning knife was the only one graded C-. The rest were all rated D.

    Slip the knife into the dark grey stripe that went down the center of the body, then pull along the mark, parting the soft skin. Do the same to the stripes on both sides of the body, under the spines.

    Using fingers, hold the lower part of the jaw down, careful of fangs.

    Pull up the upper part of the jaw, containing the fangs. When the jaws are fully separated from each other and the upper jaw is separated from the rest of the headcase, you''ll see veins connecting the fangs to the caterpir body. Holding down the lower jaw firmly with one hand, sharply tug the hand with the fangs along the caterpir body, which will easily pull out the soft spines and the venom sacs under those spines.

    The fangs and sacs can be stored in a dark ce for 30 days before bing unusable.

    It''s best to extract the venom immediately. In proper storage, it canst ten years before losing potency.

    [You have butchered 100 Nighteye Caterpirs!]

    [Your Butcher subss has advanced to First Apprentice! You are now eligible to learn skills from the Wright ranks.]

    [You have achieved Lvl 6!]

    He blinked at the Lvl 6 pronouncement.

    Ah, right. All the mature caterpirs with golden antennae were over Lvl 5.

    Krow ignored the other notifications.

    It was sunset.

    Sunset, and Krow still hadn''t finished butchering all the mature caterpirs in the grove.

    He didn''t want to be here at nightfall, when the scent of caterpir carcasses would attract all manner of predators five or more levels higher than even the Lvl 12 Thunder-badgermole.

    He stretched his muscles, throwing the venom sac he''d just taken into his Inventory.

    He retrieved the Tradebook and opened it.

    The holo-interface appeared, hovering over the Book.

    He ced all the sacs and fangs in the auction like he did the cocoons and immature caterpirs earlier, with an auction time of one hour.

    He set the reserve price to 10,000 drax.

    When the auction ended and the reserve price wasn''t met, all the items would automatically revert to his trade-vault.

    He smiled.

    This feature was only possible in the game, of course, because the Tradebook allowed the yer to sell from Inventory outside the trade-terminals in Orddet''s.

    There was no system Inventory in Zushkenar, which meant Tradebook owners were relegated to only selling items from their trade-vault or the warehouses attached to their ount.

    He stored the Tradebook, satisfied.

    He drank another Low Revitalit, thinking what to do next.

    He had to brave the forest floor, he realized in dismay.

    The whirlroot nts growing at the foot of the dandelion trees were too good materials to pass up.

    It was still a full hour before true nightfall, a sliver of sun still showing over the horizon.

    Krow jumped down.

    Fortunately, it was easy to pull up the whirlroot nts. He kept near tree roots when he could.

    Whitecloud earthworms rarely surfaced from their undergroundirs, generally harmless. That is, they didn''t have teeth, or ws, or poison. They weren''t aggressive or violent.

    But you couldn''t call them safe.

    The average whitecloud earthworm was thick as a fatty thigh, and six or so meters in length. Therger ones could crush a child under their weight.

    Krow saw a clearing full of whirlroots and headed there.

    The whirlroot nt was prized for its single long taproot that could reach up to a half-meter in length. The seeds were a poison. But the root was used to make ''whirlroot gel'' which is a D+ Umon material in potionmaking.

    Before, he used it many times in making the curing solutions for armor-grade leather.

    With no time to be unmessy, he grabbed the whirlroots by the handful, pulling them out of loose soil, and flicking them whole to his inventory.

    He was so focused on the task, that when his foot shifted downward warningly, he took a moment to understand what that meant.

    A full quarter of the meadow fell into a massive earthworm tunnel, a few trees tipping over, like a collection of Leaning Towers.

    Krow yelped, grabbed for purchase on the grass as the ground under him gave way.

    A moment of panic, then reason overwhelmed.

    He triggered Doublejump to escape.

    Once on solid ground, he scrambled backward from the lengthening scar in the green grassy clearing, slightly unnerved at the close call.

    Heughed a bit, relieved.

    One more reason whitecloud earthworm territory needed to be treated with caution. The caverns and tunnels they create under the ground surface could cave in pretty easily.

    He quickly pulled up the whirlroots near the treeline, giving up on the rest in the center of the clearing. Finished, he climbed up a tree again, higher and higher until he could see the rest of the treetops.

    He didn''t quite know where he was, but if he faced the setting sun, the Hagons were on the horizon to his left. To his right was just high cliffs.

    The Pass was marked on his Map, as was the Maw.

    He''d bought a Map Piece for the draculkar nation, but it only showed major towns and cities.

    There were three major draculkar cities, aside from the capital, dotting the expanse of the massive U Mountain Range. All of them were north of Velkenbragg, though and no use to him.

    The general shape of the map meant he needed to go northwest.

    Or more simple, he just needed to get lower on the mountains, out of the hignds.

    Due west.

    Krow slid back to the low branches, then started jumping tree to tree. High Dexterity was incredible.

    The smoke-piles were burning low already. He still doused them with water, moving fast.

    Then took off, tree-hopping down the mountain.

    Unfortunately, he didn''t find any vige to take shelter in.

    It wasn''t quite moonset when he decided on a small crevice on a cliff, protected by an overhang and a screen of mossy vines, to bivouac in.

    *

    Eli calcted how many monsters he needed to kill to earn 150 ecru a month. Or 500 drax a day.

    One drax was worth 25 serpens.

    Monsters gave cash in tiers. Lvl 1-9 gave one serpens. Lvl 10-19 gave two serpens, and so on.

    Questpletions gave more, of course, but most monster elimination quests were for low levels.

    Tsk.

    It really was unfair.

    Bandits Lvl 1-5 gave one serpens. Lvl 6-10 gave two serpens. Wait, that Lvl 10 bandit captain gave five serpens.

    He hadn''t even tossed them for loot.

    Fighting yers would gain him even more than fighting bandits, he knew.

    Monster materials currently were cheap, most were sold at vendor trash bulk prices.

    That meant Eli couldn''t sell most of what he had until the craft upgrade. On the contrary, the smart thing to do was <em>buy</em>.

    If he kept to one-serpens monsters, he needed to kill 12,500 a day to gain 500 drax.

    Uh, no.

    Sticking to two-serpens monsters would halve that, but still no.

    Can he even fight a Lvl 19 yet?

    He tentatively ced his current killing speed at 200 monsters a day. A quick calction told him he needed to kill that many Lvl 600 monsters every day to eat.

    Ahaha.

    He didn''t think there were even Lvl 200 monsters yet. Those were added during the update. Rends was only up to about Lvl 560 monsters before the Quake, and those were raid monsters.

    If he didn''t need to butcher them, then he could kill 1000 monsters a day. That meant Lvl 120 and above monsters.

    Still no.

    Obviously, monster hunting won''t feed him.

    He already knew that and never nned to depend solely on monster hunting. Monster hunting was primarily the means to increase his battless level and gather materials.

    Also, it was his way of ying the game.

    Now, it was looking more and more like he needed to level enchanting sooner than he thought.

    Leveling his battless and his craftss at the same time? Madness.

    At the very least, not until he raised Sharpshooter to Lvl 20.

    By then, he''d be strong enough to bring in the top quality Umon materials from monsters.

    By then, he''d have a significant store of ingredients for grinding Enchanter.

    In the meantime¡­

    Shkav, he really needed a job.

    Eli nced through thewide ssifieds for Greatcentral City and saw a few of the part-time jobs he did before. He made a face.

    He pulled the material on the tour thing again.

    The manager had messaged the payscale to him while he was in Rends.

    Reluctantly, he was tempted.

    Four to six hours, two days a week; 200 ecru a month.

    None of the other part-time jobs, not even the better ones that he remembered from Zee''s rmendations paid that much for two days of work a week. Half-days, even.

    What <em>did</em> Rashid say to the manager?

    Eli shook his head.

    VR tourism in Rends.

    Did this happen during hisst life?

    He was never a VRMMO enthusiast, so he didn''t know.

    But this was why he sent that suggestion to RSI, right? For Rends to invite more people to make ounts?

    This whole thing was probably already in production when he sent the suggestion, but still, he should be supporting this.

    He couldn''t do much about the Quake, but he could do this.

    The possibility that it could save lives was something he could do.

    He sent his official eptance to the manager before he changed his mind.

    Then he dropped his head into his hands.

    Oh wait. There was that.

    The bio-cradle stored video records for 60 hours before automatically purging, right?

    *

    A few dayster, a new RedVisor ount named <strong>RendsMonsterHunter</strong> quietly debuted with a video titled [Two and a Half Ways to Butcher a Mature Nighteye Caterpir].

    It got 3 views in the first seven days.

    In the first month, just twoments.

    #00001: Did you all see the piles of dead caterpirs in the background?

    #00002: Idiot.

    The second had more upvotes. Sixpared to the one on the firstment.

 Chapter 54 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (3)

    <em>Day 4 (In-game)</em>

    <em>Somewhere in the draculkar hignds.</em>

    <em>Somewhere in the southern end of the U Mountains.</em>

    *

    Navigating by major geographical feature was harder than Krow remembered. The foothills of the Hagons had a less sensationalndscape than the draculkar hignds.

    It was less popted as well. He''d been days in the wilds and hadn''te across a single vige.

    It was getting to him a bit.

    Where in the damned name of Norge were the viges?

    He missed the ins.

    The fair yet boring ins where you could reach a vige or town every ten or so hours of walking.

    Even the view couldn''t soothe him.

    The high ces looked close together, but navigating from picturesque feature to picturesque feature was an unexpected pain.

    Krow was sure that by this time tomorrow, he''d have mastered Doublejump already.

    It was the only way to gain ground with any appreciable speed.

    He doublejumped twice to gain the top of the ridge.

    "Finally."

    Then his eyes saw the vista spread before him, even more dramatic and striking than the maze full of ravines, rock pirs, woond, and peaks that he''d just traveled through.

    He kicked a rock.

    "It''s even more of a mess!" he yelled to the vast beautiful sky. "What is wrong with just copy-paste?!"

    His voice echoed against the many crags, mocking him by extending his indignation to the horizon. He red at the Map.

    The nearest town was still Nyurajke. The next one, the one he was aiming for, was still further down on the mountain range than where he was.

    Towns followed rivers, right?

    That was basic geo-sociology.

    So viges, presumably, also followed water.

    Why in zing asses were the rivers not marked on this udrekk of a Map?

    Okay, he''d been wrong to go in a straight line. But he''d been frustrated, alright?

    He took a deep breath.

    Studied thendscape below. If he kept to the ridge, it looked like he''d avoid most of the ups and downs of the geography for a time.

    People on VRMMO-News who gush about Rends geography having ''grand personality'' evidently never had to deal with the immense biprity of the draculkar hignds.

    Krow dusted his hands off and started bounding along the ridge. His STR and DEX were good enough that he could hurtle through mostly tndscape on his own.

    In ces where it wasn''t possible to run or climb, he used a grapplehook to swing past obstacles or doublejump to reach precarious handholds and footholds.

    Like the one before him.

    He bounced through two doublejumps in a row, used a grapplehook to run sideways on the side of a boulder then jumped from crumbling ledge to crumbling ledge, to flip to a stop on a sloping rock.

    He exhaled an exhratedugh at the sess of the particr tricky maneuver, starting to smile again, even more when he nced down and saw rockspires hidden under an overhang that might have skewered him if he missed a step or the timing and slipped down.

    He vaulted a hillock, did a somersault to gain air,nded on a soft mossy rock.

    Ghk! ¨Cgrooahw!

    Krow yelped when the rock let out a sound and moved.

    He unbnced and fell backward.

    Throwing a grapplehook to wind around a tree root jutting out above, he caught his weight on the rope and swung away. He looked back ¨C a ram-type monster stood and roared at him resentfully.

    He couldn''t help but cackle. "Sorry!"

    The monster looked familiar, in fact. But the name couldn''t quitee to the forefront of his mind.

    He spent a little too long wondering that he reached the zenith of his swing and the momentum swung back.

    "Shkav!"

    The ram lowered its head, glorious three-pronged twisty horn poised to skewer Krow. Other rocks around the ram started to shake themselves off and rouse.

    It was a whole tribe.

    Krow pulled himself hand over hand up the rope ¨C closer to the hook was farther from the monsters.

    The ram tossed its head as Krow swung past. Too close! He spread his legs, letting all six points pass between his knees, missing by centimeters.

    He never thought himself so brave before.

    He looked down.

    [Lichenyak Herdleader Lvl 21]

    [HP: 1000]

    [MP: 110]

    Oh! He remembered now!

    The downswing had his eyes widen in rm. He eeled himself higher on the rope, but still had to pull his legs up to avoid the horns.

    Safe!

    He let go, triggering doublejump to change direction andnd on a tufty knoll.

    He scampered away from thending zone until he came to a tree he could hide behind, only then peering back warily.

    The knoll was ram-free.

    He leaned against the tree trunk and huffed out augh.

    He was seeing more and more monsters he knew.

    The nighteye caterpirs, then a flight of hundred-tail swallows the other day, and now the lichenyaks.

    He only assisted on a lichenyak hunt once. Not a whole group though. They were one of the few animals that were floral elementals. He nced at his gloves. The Bonewood used in them was from a floral-aligned monster.

    Krow must have cracked a few ribs in that lichenyak ram, or it would have been using its famed circus-level jumping ability to follow and gore him.

    Good that it wasn''t.

    His mood better, he surveyed the area.

    It was a small grove of about twenty trees just under the peak of the ridge. The breeze was pleasant, ruffling through purple and blue leaves.

    He rested awhile.

    The sound of multiple lowing caught his attention. He cut short his perusal of the pretty bark patterns on the tree he was leaning on and edged cautiously to the knoll.

    Peering down, he didn''t know whether tough or sigh.

    It followed after all.

    The lichenyak herdleader stood tall atop a boulder, head lifted in call, the low sound it made rumbling around the cliffs. The others of the herd were with him, on precarious ledges, rocks, trees around him.

    Why?

    He was pretty sure he was out of the monster''s aggro zone.

    The ram caught sight of Krow.

    If he didn''t know better, he''d say those eyes went red with rage.

    It bellowed, a long foghorn-like sound.

    The herd turned toward him, almost as one.

    Krow lifted his hands, almost automatically. "It was an ident!"

    The ram may not be able to jump, but the others weren''t so constrained.

    His heart started to beat faster at the sight of a dozen intense eyes trained on him. Predatorily, he imagined.

    Norge, can your ruminants not be so bloodlusting?!

    He readied his revolver.

    Another time, and Krow would''ve admired the grace in which the herd leaped up impossible ces.

    Not when they wereing for him, though.

    He aimed.

    One darkspear wasn''t enough to down the lead charger. Two wasn''t enough. It was the third that knocked the monster down, enough for it to slip to its knees and scrabble at stone as it lost bnce and toppled from the peaks.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    Even then, Krow knew it wasn''t his bullets that finished it off.

    Two reached the knoll. Krow shot as he backed away. They were not as tough as the first, seven darkspears downing them.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    The fourth was smart, gaining the top of the ridge before jumping Krow from sideways and above.

    2% HP gone.

    [Lichenyak Lvl 14]

    [HP: 550]

    [MP: 30]

    Krow retreated behind a clump of trees, downing the smart one in three shots.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    The distraction allowed three to charge Krow.

    The first of them was on him before he could bring the revolver to bear. His left hand went to his leg, where as a First Apprentice of the Butcher subss, he was allowed to wear butcher''s knives as offhand weapons.

    He shed at the lichenyak.

    It didn''t buy him much space, but it was enough. Three bullets to kill it and the other two took advantage to ram him even as it fell.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    Krow crashed against a rock pir.

    5% HP gone.

    Another lowed challengingly above him, while one other followed the two who got the hit in.

    "Do you want to trample me to death?"

    He leaped to higher vantage, knife shing at the lichenyak above.

    It didn''t faze it.

    They followed still.

    "What did I ever do to you all, huh?"

    He actually did want to know. Just jumping on their leader wouldn''t make herbivores this angry, right?

    He swept his gaze over the peaks, eyes quickly marking a trail.

    He fixed the route his mind, then turned back to shoot.

    The gun clicked on empty.

    "Oh, <eme on</em>."

    Krow leaped backward, foot uratelying down on a barely there jut of rock, braced and pitched himself upward. He triggered Doublejump, flinging himself higher still.

    He dropped the empty cylinder, swapping it with another, before swiping the empty one out of the air and into his inventory.

    He flipped,nding with barely a il on a tree branch, grinning. "Did you see that?!"

    Backwards hopping on these peaks was ill-advised. Doing that while swapping one cylinder out for another?

    "That was pretty extreme, right?"

    He flipped backward out of the way as a stubby horn mmed into the branch.

    Krowughed. The horns of the other lichenyaks weren''t as magnificent as that of the herdleader.

    He aimed, still following the route backward in his mind''s eye.

    He clipped a jutting root, losing bnce mid-leap.

    His shot went wild.

    He doublejumped to a ledge, ncing down into a crevasse he almost fell into. "Okay, that wasn''t as cool, but nice recovery, right?"

    The lichenyak in the leading at him had its mouth open, tongue hanging out, eyes bulging.

    Was it tired?

    "No answer? Oh well." He shot the lichenyak out of the air as it jumped for him. "I guess you''re not a conversationalist."

    He smiled widely at the two of itspatriots following the first closely as he leaped onto a mass of roots.

    "I don''t suppose you could tell me why you all are stalking me? I''m minding my own business here."

    The crack at his feet was unexpected.

    He looked down as the roots broke free of the cliff and tumbled out from under him.

    He fell, debris all around him.

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Please don''t copy and post on other sites.

    If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 55 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (4)

    <em>Still Day 4 (In-game)</em>

    <em>Still somewhere in the draculkar hignds.</em>

    <em>Still somewhere in the southern end of the U Mountains.</em>

    <em>Status: Being chased by a horde of jumping shaggy monsters who took exception to him using their leader as a trampoline.</em>

    *

    The lichenyak tossed its head as Krow fell.

    He twisted in mid-air to avoid the pointed battering ram, grabbed onto a lower ledge and heaved himself up, spitting dust from the debris.

    A triumphant bellow split the air. Too close!

    He rolled off, triggering doublejump.

    Two monsters mmed onto the ledge he was on. Seven darkspears to see their corpses stumble andy still.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    He reached for a higher handhold, mbered onto the trunk of a tree bent nearly half to horizontal, growing out of a crevice.

    He drank a Low Heal.

    How many were left?

    He squinted against the midday sun, the realism of the game causing sweat to roll down his temples and back.

    Four? Yes, four still following.

    The expanding marks of lichen on their long fur gleamed in the sun, in what could only be magic. Krow grimaced. He had enough examples to know that mostly-decimating a group of monsters would Enrage the ones still left.

    One lichenyak jumped up the ledge and saw the two carcasses.

    It bellowed, loud and furious.

    Shkav. Four bullets ended it, but it was already toote.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    An answering bellow came from afar. The others he could see huffed smoke, all but breathing fire, eyes trained on him.

    Or maybe he was just imagining the red in their teeth¡­?

    The leaves of the tree he was on rustled. The branches shuddered.

    The stone must be thick, as the trees growing on the cliffs weren''t rooted deep enough.

    The thought only just crossed his mind when a rootshed around his ankle.

    He made an inarticte sound of shock.

    The tree root tightened, and another reached.

    Krow shot the root around his ankle. It splintered. He jumped away uncaring of destination, kicking away the rest of the root.

    He scrabbled for a hold on the boulder he crashed against, managing a foothold.

    Okay, he breathed. Lichenyaks were floral element aligned monsters.

    He knew that. But he thought they only learned to control nts after Lvl 20. He eyed the lichenyaks on the peaks above him. Apparently, also when Enraged.

    He''d only encountered lichenyaks in Rends once before. They were generally Lvl 10-20 creatures, with the strongest rarely achieving Lvl 25-30. The game didn''t advertise level zones, but it was rare to see monsters with massively different levels in one area.

    From the hundred-tail swallow and the lichenyaks, he''d assumed this was an under-20 level zone.

    He wasn''t expecting the nt control.

    A sound from above and he started running, eyes searching.

    His MP was depleted from all the doublejumps, no chance to use Shadowbind.

    He saw a deep andrge crack in the rock, no trees or roots nearby, and jumped toward it.

    Not ideal, but Krow had to negate the advantage the lichenyaks had ¨C their damnable mobility.

    So far, he didn''t think they were used to having an attacker as agile as him on the cliffs. He was certain the lichenyaks were using anti-bird-predator tactics against him¡­that is, harry the birds to below the peaks, then jump on them from above.

    With them raging, he couldn''t keep waiting for his MP to replenish enough for the Doublejump Spell.

    Hended on a jutting rock, grabbed a handhold, and swung into the dark crevice.

    It wasrger than Krow thought.

    The opening wasrge enough for two lichenyak to enter abreast. He could hear them in his wake, following still.

    Within the crevice was a spacerge enough for half a tower.

    It was a cave.

    The small stgmite and stctite pirs told him that it had been here for a long time.

    The sound of falling pebbles alerted Krow from his wary peering around the crevice. He looked toward the opening, revolver rising.

    A lichenyak charged, another not too far behind, bellowing.

    [Lichenyak Lvl 13 (17)]

    [HP: 800 (1100)]

    [MP: 30 (45)]

    Krow emptied the cylinder into it before it tumbled, corpseing to a stop less than a meter from him.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    The trailing lichenyak stumbled on the falling corpse, giving Krow time to swap cylinders and distance himself.

    He shot eight darkspears before the second lichenyak stilled. Then eight again at the one darkening the cave opening.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    Sixteen darkspears one after the other.

    He swapped cylinders and fired six upward, where a fourth lichenyak made its way through the upper part of the crack.

    The monster fell, thest of the lichenyak''s struggles fading mid-air. It thudded on the ground of the cave a corpse.

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    If this were a yakuza movie, he thought as he stood there with gun lowered slowly, the tail of his coat would be snapping in the breeze instead of just flickering a little, and the thundering sounds of the shots echoing in the far cliffs.

    Too bad the gun didn''t roar like gunpowder revolvers did. The Starfall Revolver sounded more like the discharge of an shrouded airgun.

    That was four, but he wasn''t certain it was all of them.

    He waited.

    Nothing sounded; no new lichenyak on some ledge, ring at him like he offended the shaggy goat gods. No tell-tale trickle of debris, no lowing or bellowing.

    Krow peered out the crack.

    At least six corpses were visible to him.

    The peaks were quiet.

    A bellow sounded, long and low, less aggressive than the rest.

    His hand on the gun tightened, alert.

    But nothing came at him.

    He holstered the revolver, drank a Low Heal, and plopped down at the lip of the crack.

    Still cautious, ears and senses alert, he started reloading the other cylinders.

    Long minutes passed, and there was nothing more than wind hissing by.

    He replenished the bullets of the cylinder installed on the revolver.

    The lichenyak ram had given up.

    He unequipped the Travelcoat and the Bonewood Gauntlets, recing thetter with gue Doctor''s Gauntlets.

    He touched the first lichenyak.

    [You''ve gained Shaggy Lichenyak Hide from a monster!]

    The lichenyak before him was now devoid of its greyish-green outer hide.

    Krow removed the smaller butcher knife from the thigh holster on his left leg. Gaining First Apprentice rank for the Butcher subss allowed him to equip two butcher knives as offhand weapons.

    Oh wait.

    He removed the vid-eye owl from his Inventory. It immediately pped its wings and flew to rest on a stgmite.

    Krow shrugged and let it be.

    He''d never had one before.

    Before, he thought RedVisor was for high-level yers to show off their skills and those who made short movies and music videos set against breathtaking Rends geography and people.

    The deliveryman-installer said it would add viewing angles to his recordings.

    His first video was kludged together using just the view-angle of his avatar''s eyes. It wasn''t bad at all, in his opinion. The butchering style was clear and the voice-over he put together was gave all the data needed without being heavy or solemn.

    It wasn''t shy, but he thought it showed the Butcher skills pretty well.

    Krow could make a good video without multiple angles, but he had the vid-eye owl anyway. Might as well use it.

    He put it out of his mind and started on the butchering.

    Three lichenyak in the cave, and at least six more outside. Barring the ones that fellpletely off the ridge.

    He stroked the knife around the neck, then down the underside of the carcass between the breasts, across the legs. Peeling the inner hide off was a bit tricky, as the lichenyak was taller than him by at least sixty centimeters and heavier by at least three hundred kilos.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire Lichenyak Skin!]

    The notifications kepting as he slowly practiced motions he''d learned in Zushkenar. He''d learned to dress game, but it hadn''t been his primary job.

    Being in Rends, some of the motions were unnecessary and a number of organs were missing. Obviously most of the insides of the beasts in Rends were based on Earth animals.

    In Zushkenar, they were¡­a bit further from the norm.

    Also, the lichenyak was free of the parasites that Krow half-expected to be there. A bonus, that''s for certain.

    There was a Spell for removing parasites from game, but he didn''t know it.

    A few skills and Spells in certain professions were not included in the standard subss skill package and had to be learned from a master of the ss, which could be an NPC or a craftmaster.

    The carcass yielded a Bonewood skeleton, a hundred kilos of edible meat, and five kilos of edible tendon.

    After taking all that could be butchered, what was left of the lichenyak would, when he left, slowly begin to melt, like a mass of ice cream in the sun.

    He got through the other two in good time and started on the lichenyaksid out in the sun outside.

    One of them unexpectedly yielded [Flowercurl Horn] which he thought came from bloomwool sheep in Amvard continent. They were a simr species? Bloomwool sheep didn''t yield Bonewood though.

    The horn was a D+ Common. Not very distinguished but useful in repairing floral-element armor. Also used to make several musical instruments.

    Something huffed above him.

    His eyes widened.

    He tossed the horn into his Inventory and dove over the carcass he was butchering.

    Dust and debris flew as the monster crashed down on the ledge.

    [Lichenyak Herdleader Lvl 21(27)]

    [HP: 1200(2800)]

    [MP: 110(150)]

    He slipped on blood. "Gah!"

    Fumbled his equip of the Travelcoat.

    The raging bellow of the lichenyak ram deafened at close range.

    "I said it was an ident!" He drew the revolver.

    Sixteen darkspears sent, and that only cut half off the monster''s inted HP. It had better defense than its herdmembers. It limped toward him, bellowed again, then charged.

    The patterns on its fur glowed.

    "Shkav!"

    100MP gone. But it had all its HP back.

    Who the hell knew lichenyak had HP recovery like that?!

    Krow switched to shieldbursts, hoping to topple it off the ledge. The herdleader charged through the shieldbursts with only minor stumbles.

    Krow gained higher ground in the meantime. Sent another sixteen darkspears, dodging all the while the roots and vines and tree branchesshing out at him.

    It jumped after him, Enraged and ignoring its injuries.

    Two sharp vines pierced Krow through the side. Ow.

    7% HP gone.

    He flipped to hang off a crack in a ntless stone slope.

    "I don''t suppose we could let bygones lie? I break your ribs, you spear my kidneys, we''re even?"

    A braid of vines dug into the stone he hung off of, his handhold crumbling.

    He doublejumped to the top of a rock pir. "I see, I see. You''re one of those death before dishonor types."

    He tracked the leaping ram, shooting. Nine out of sixteen bullets hit.

    Tsk.

    "I''ve been the obsessive type, I know. Still am, really. I get it. But we must transcend!"

    The ram toppled a rock formation onto Krow''s pir, obviously just wanting to end him forever. 2% HP taken by the flying shards of stone.

    Krow iled as the pir fell. He jumped from stone to stone, senses alert. Huh. He was in fact, close to where he topped the ridge earlier.

    He leaped free of the falling debris and doublejumped into air, arms wide, nothing below him. The herdleader followed, unwearying.

    Krow took a moment to savor the freefall.

    Then flipped and triggered a doublejump while throwing a grapplehook toward a crack in an overhang above. It snagged, changed his trajectory enough to avoid horns that were longer than his legs for the second time this day.

    He grinned at the lichenyak. "We must learn to let go."

    He doublejumped again, hisst for a while, used the rope and momentum to fly upward. He let go the rope and closed his eyes, smiling. He hit the highpoint of the parabolic arc and started to fall.

    He flipped, bracing.

    His boots crashed into the back of the herdleader, exacerbating the downward fall of the monster already caught in gravity.

    The lichenyak mmed into the sharp crown of a naturally-sculpted minaret. Krow dropped down to his knees. Even cushioned (again) by the furry bulk of the herdleader, that fall had sheered off some of his HP.

    The ram shuddered, impaled on a stone spike through the chest, bloody spike just missing the spine. It turned its head, bulging eye ring still at Krow.

    "Or we fail to see the pitfalls around us, due to tunnelvision," Krow finished.

    He swapped to hisst full darkspear cylinder. Seven bullets before the lichenyak drooped. It was technically a waste of bullets, as the ram was going nowhere.

    It was a mass of data, numbers and letters, but the least Krow could do for a creature so tenacious was to give a quick death instead of leaving it there to rot alive.

    Krow sat down on the fleecy carcass, a long breath leaving his lips. His hand touched the lichenyak fur.

    [You''ve gained Earthblow Gyrehorns from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained ten (10) serpens from a boss monster!]

    He ignored it.

    He''d just killed a Lvl 21 Enraged monster, he thought disbelieving. A Lvl 27.

    He was Lvl 6, for sanity''s sake!

    He took a deep breath, then sprawled out on the soft grey-green fur,ughed breathlessly.

    This time in Rends was definitely way different from thest time.

 Chapter 56 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (5)

    <em>Day 8 (In-game)</em>

    <em>Still somewhere in the draculkar hignds.</em>

    <em>Still somewhere in the southern end of the U Mountains.</em>

    <em>Status: still looking for civilization.</em>

    *

    The [Lesser Orb of Air] dropped into Krow''s gloved palm.

    He rolled the item to his fingers, held it up. It gleamed an opaque crystalline yellow, the sphere only the size of therger ss marbles he used to y with as a child ¨C barely an inch in diameter.

    It was the third lesser orb he''d taken from butchering a whole warren of shotbark rabbits.

    Even that much was surprising.

    Lesser elemental orbs were Umon items but they were on the rarer side of Umon.

    Orbs in general were used to imbue materials with elemental properties. In rarity and strength, Lesser Orbs were the least, followed by Greater Orbs, then Unwed, Exquisite, and finally Ethereal.

    Krow flicked it into his inventory.

    He eyed the massive rabbit on the t boulder he was using as a butcher''s block.

    Another that was less than 1.5 meters from crown to tail.

    Shotbark rabbits were one of the moremon monsters in the foothills of the Hagons. They were fairly numerous, hunted often for meat and fur.

    Therger rabbits had mostly inedible flesh, mirrored in Rends by the meat being ungraded, not even a ''Common'' designation.

    It was unnecessary to check the fur for mange or excessive brittleness, but he ruffled up the fur down the beast''s body just the same. It was habit at this point.

    Like all the rabbits prior, the fur was perfect.

    Dressing a rabbit for meat alone was easier than when wanting to preserve the fur. Thankfully, rabbit skin was easy to separate from flesh. It peeled off like a wetsuit peeled off a body.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to gain two (2) Ball of Airfluff!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to gain Shotbark Rabbit Furskin!]

    Krow rolled the skin into the Inventory.

    Airfluff, despite the name, was actually an E+ Common material, used in high-end pillows, quilts, temperature-regting outerwear,fortable footwear, and such.

    He stretched to get the kinks out of his limbs and spine from the hours of butchering, then cut off the head and paws.

    The head he ced in the Inventory ¨C the brains were eaten or used in tanning ¨C and the feet he tossed into the refuse pile.

    One of the paws slid down the pile, traversing at least a meter before settling on the ground.

    That pile was ratherrge, wasn''t it? There had to be over a hundred front and hind feet there.

    Only after making sure the guts wouldn''t spill all over did he slit the belly of the rabbit open.

    He scooped the guts out, leaving the liver and kidneys.

    He voided the intestines into the ground, before tossing them into the inventory. Krow was actually surprised that was possible in the game. Shotbark Rabbit intestines weren''t good for anything but sausages.

    As far as he knew anyway.

    After all, his gue Doctor''s Gauntlets were made of intestine and bone.

    He tossed the rest of the carcass into his Inventory.

    ncing around, he sighed with a grimace.

    Shotbark rabbits grew to two meters in length. The boss was at least three meters from head to tail.

    In a single warren, there could be hundreds of rabbits.

    The one he found was one of the smaller ones. Much less than a hundred. But even with him taking most of the carcasses, the stone-walled hollow he was in was a site of carnage.

    Krow hadn''t meant to kill his way down the mountains, he really hadn''t.

    Was it his fault he kept encountering very huntable monsters at seemingly every turn?

    After the lichenyaks, there was the pair of bluesnow foxes, whose lush wine-colored summer pelts were E+ Rare.

    The next day, when he finally came across running water, the Greater Hignd Sylphlizard was just lurking in a waterfall pool. It was a Lvl 16 with a grade B Umon hide, and a heart that was considered an F Rare delicacy.

    Was he not supposed to be tempted?

    At least its presence confirmed the water wasn''t toxic.

    He thought he could finally follow a river to civilization, but the waterfall ended in a series of prettyyered pools before all that water went underground.

    To alleviate his despair, he thought about the Sylphid Spinebone he also got from the monster.

    And that of the mass of meat, 157 kg was edible. Lizard meat sold well to high-end butchers.

    With the Spinebone, scouting with the Ghostcaller subss went faster.

    It was how he''de across one of the hidden warrens of the shotbark rabbits, actually.

    But that was today.

    Yesterday, he caught sight of a Goldenrachis Macaque, and spent most of the day tracking it as it bounced around the hignds.

    Five hours of chasing the agile and perceptive monkey, then another four hours of herding it without seeming to herd it, it was finally caught in a rope trap he''d further trapped with Minor Paralyzing Mist Vials and Minor Monster Bait.

    That was after the annoyingly tricksy thing led him through a grove of hoverhives and the many many angry buzzing inhabitants there.

    Honestly, he just grabbed a few hives as he ran swiftly past. They were just floating there anyway.

    It just took 25% of his HP before he could resume chasing instead of being chased.

    Worth the honey.

    Bonus, the sted monkey stopped to watch andugh instead of disappearing into the wild hignds.

    Krow was dignity-bound to never stop until he bagged it after that.

    The macaque was his biggest haul yet, or he wouldn''t have spent a whole day hunting it.

    Almost all the parts of the goldenrachis macaque were seble. The moneymaker though, were the musk nds which were used to make both perfume and incense.

    At the right apothecary, the two nds would each fetch at least 50 drax.

    The fur could be used to add durability to armor, the organs had varying value to varying sects. If he could find a rogue Temple of Tnweth, they''d pay prime price (at least 20 serpens a kilo) for the meat, which was cooked on holy days.

    He got nothing from the skeleton, but the monster was a Lvl 19 and that had meant a 130% bonus on the standard XP gain.

    In any case, the skeleton was also in his Inventory. He wasn''t leaving it behind when part of the spine was actual gold metal.

    The macaque''s habit of chewing on metallic ethermica-rich soils had that effect, ording to one of the zoological treatises written in Zushkenar.

    He started washing up.

    That was thest rabbit. Somewhere in the mess, his Butcher subss rank rose to Third Wright, learning the skill Meat-carving.

    That advancement was good and bad.

    Good in that it took Krow less time to butcher the rabbits than usual, and he was getting higher grade materials ¨C the rabbit furs had started to drop more C and even some B quality instead of the mostly D quality before the rank-up.

    Bad in that he now couldn''t learn Apprentice butcher skills in Rends, even if he apprenticed to a master butcher.

    He should still apprentice to gain Wright skills, but he''d been nning on doing things properly because Butcher wasn''t one of his Tinkerer subsses.

    Oh well.

    He re-equipped his armor, eyeing the tunnels that went deeper into the warren.

    He left the vid-eye owl to follow on its own. It did its thing without him needing to worry anyway.

    Shotbark rabbitsired in tunnels scratched into stone formations and cliffs, until the whole area was as holey as Swiss cheese.

    Krow had never entered a warren before.

    Another point to exploring was, elemental orbs appeared in monsters living in areas rich with power.

    There might be other interesting monsters around. Or monster nts. Like the area in a dandelion tree grove.

    Krow hadn''t ventured too deep inside this one, waiting mostly for the rabbits to attack. They were ranged attackers, like him, with sound-based air attacks.

    It had been a pain to deal with.

    Multiple attacks and it sounded like he was in the middle of a pack of yapping Chihuahuas.

    But they weren''t agile, like the lichenyaks.

    So he waited in a ce he''d thoroughly scouted and ambushed the ambushers.

    They weren''t too smart, preferring mass-rush tactics even when losing. Their numbers made that effective for any number of predators.

    But Krow had shieldburst and a whole crate of Paralyzing Mist vials.

    The Mist didn''t knock them out, but the rabbits were disoriented enough that they couldn''t attack effectively.

    Tsk.

    Krow needed better crowd control against massed attacks. The Mist vials worked well enough against windrats, which had simr mass tactics, but those were one-serpens monsters.

    Against two-serpens monsters, the Mist vials only half-worked.

    What about higher level monsters then?

    At the very least, he''d like the chance to be able to run away.

    He was sessful now because of his armor and prepared items. It won''t work on every monster.

    Shadowbind was still unmastered.

    He should practice.

    Stopping multiple opponents in their tracks would be massively useful.

    Unfortunately, it took 10 minutes, 51 seconds for his MP to recharge enough for Shadowbind, assuming a start from zero.

    He huffed as the tunnels he cautiously entered into remained empty. He stopped peering around corners like a paranoiac and started walking normally, with ears alert.

    A number of the tunnels and caverns had been deliberately opened to as much sunlight as possible to grow the different colored grass the rabbits needed.

    As he went deeper into the maze, it wasn''t sunlight that lightened the darkness but patches of tubr coral-like growths on the floor and walls. The tube structures emitted a warm orange glow, like a distant bonfire in the night.

    He didn''t know what they were.

    That didn''t stop him from prying some of them off the stone and into his Inventory. If they weren''t anything, all he''d lose was a bit of his own time andbor.

    He reached the first cavern that wasn''t touched by sunlight. There was a small stream trickling through and dried grass here and there.

    It looked like this was the end.

    He peered into the shadows, looking for another tunnel.

    A squeak sounded. Krow snapped a darkspear toward the clump of boulders it came from.

    A puppy bark sounded, and three figures bounded toward him.

    [Shotbark Leveret Lvl 9(11)]

    [HP: 400(500)]

    [MP: 10(12)]

    [Shotbark Leveret Lvl 13(16)]

    [HP: 600(750)]

    [MP: 20(25)]

    [Shotbark Leveret Lvl 10(13)]

    [HP: 450(600)]

    [MP: 14(18)]

    Their airshot attacks weren''t strong enough to do any significant damage.

    [You''ve gained one (1) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) serpens from a monster!]

    [You have gained one (1) level to achieve Lvl 8!]

    Oh?

    Oh, most of the monsters he''de across thest few days were above his level. He got XP bonuses.

    But when did he level-up to 7?

    Baffled, he opened his notifications, absently shooting at the other leveretsing out of hiding.

    Ah, there it was, between a slew of minor poison notifications and monster kills.

    He swapped an empty cylinder for full, dodged a leaping leveret, continued firing.

    So yesterday, with the bee monsters?

    Right, he''d really been running away then. His shieldbursts must have squashed more than a few of them.

    He nced at the Inventory. There were forty-one rabbit heads there.

    Krow''s shooting stopped.

    The cavern was silent.

    Eleven Leveretsy strewn across the ground,rge as German shepherds.

    Theatrically, he blew on his revolver.

    Two levels in two days.

    That was almost as fast as battlers were leveling now.

    And people said monster hunting was useless.

    His next goal, Lvl 20 by the end of the realtime month!

    Maybe that was optimistic, but he felt great right now! He couldn''t sustain such a leveling speed for very long without spending scads of gold to upgrade his gear but right now, he was confident.

    He twirled his gun into its holster.

    There was work to be done.

    Butchering the leverets got Krow, to his surprise, a [Lucky Rabbit Foot].

    It gave +20% Fortune for puzzle luck-rolls and was graded C Rare.

    Haha.

    His luck was good, right?

    Nope!

    As if.

    Krow smirked, looking down at the item.

    Norge, you think you can trick me?

    Luck item drops were a Rends feature only. Zushkenar didn''t even believe in luck-granting items.

    If Krow had the luck drop made into an essory, he''d be cursed with seven in-game months of bad luck in minigames.

    He shook his head, took out the Tradebook and immediately ced it on the Bourse for 3 drax.

    He was about to close the book when it was bought.

    The bargain hunters were out in force.

    He sighed.

    For whoever bought the Foot, it would actually work, specifically for the numerous minigames and puzzles scattered over various parts of the world.

    The little caveat was, they didn''t work for the one who killed the rabbit.

    Or rather, they worked against.

    They were also worth more than 3 drax.

    How could Krow forget Rends luck items, with the many loud and constant wailing about them on the forums of Before?

    The guidelines for the person who got the bad luck of a luck-item drop:

    <em>#1. Don''t use it. </em>

    <em>#2. Really don''t use it.</em>

    <em>#3. Don''t sell it for more than 3 gold.</em>

    <em>#4. Don''t equip it until it''s been owned and used by at least 7 people sessfully.</em>

    As the guidelines implied, for the person who got the drop, say goodbye to any chance of using the item. If you inadvertently buy it off the market while #4 wasn''t seen to, say goodbye to your minigame luck for the next seven months.

    Krow mentally crossed rabbit-paw-based essories off his future purchases list.

    Leveret meat was a rarity grade higher than themon rabbit meat of the adults. He tossed thest carcass whole into storage before washing grime off the gue Doctor''s Gauntlets and recing them with his usual.

    Onest round of the cavern, harvesting the glowing tube coral nts, and he was ready to leave.

    He reached to chip off one of the nts, and a tube fell off. He stepped back, slipped and kicked the coral into the corner.

    He raised his brow at a patch of shadows that didn''t lighten with the glow.

    Was that a crack in the wall?

    It was another tunnel.

    It was too narrow for most of the rabbits, and even Krow had to slide sideways for most of it.

    He took out amp, as the glowing tubes lessened as he went further in.

    The cavern at the end was smaller than the leveret cavern, but the pale stctite pirs standing as vanguards at the sides, gleaming with crystals, gave the whole thing a sense of¡­majesty, maybe?

    He''d seen pictures of the Magmigant race''s underground halls.

    Those gave a somewhat simr feel, but without the wildness inherent in a cavern that hadn''t been ordered by builders. And magmigant halls hadva pits or rivers to warm the space, instead of water flowing through.

    He lifted themp higher.

    What caught Krow''s attention was the rectangr stone b at the far end, right up against a dark wall.

    An altar.

 Chapter 57 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (6)

    <em>Still Day 8 (In-game)</em>

    <em>Still somewhere in the draculkar hignds.</em>

    <em>Still somewhere in the southern end of the U Mountains.</em>

    <em>Status: underground and still looking for civilization.</em>

    *

    There were many ces of worship in Zushkenar. A consequence of having eighteen major deities in the pantheon. Various races had their own interpretations and minor spirits, but as far as Krow knew, the Eighteen were universally recognized.

    This altar though...it didn''t have the symbols of any of the Eighteen.

    A minor spirit?

    In these draculkar hignds, there should''ve been a dragon in the motif somewhere. There wasn''t. Just strange markings.

    Even then, an altar made wholly of ethermica was a bit excessive for an unknown minor spirit, wasn''t it?

    Krow circled the altar, getting a good look at the symbols and the design hewn out of a whole b of raw ethermica. Even the supports that held up the b were ethermica.

    There must be several thousand cubes in the whole altar ¨C a fortune by any standard.

    He stopped at the back of the altar, having circled twice. He''d have to check the videoter to see if the symbols appeared in the forums.

    A gleam at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He blinked at the wall behind the altar. Soot darkened it, but there was something¡­

    A spike bay, scratched against the wall, revealed something that had him step back, stunned.

    The color showing against the soot was the same as the altar. He took out a shovel and scraped it against the wall, further and further until he hit rock rather than crystal.

    He wasn''t mistaken.

    An entire vein of ethermica.

    Ethermica wasn''t like other mined materials ¨C it wasn''t formed by geologic pressure and heat, wasn''t an umtion of material. As far as anyone knew, it just appeared then started to grow, like a fungus, in powerful ces.

    Krow nced at the altar.

    Whether it was created because of the ethermica or the ethermica appeared because of the worship or rituals conducted in this cavern was not the question in Krow''s mind.

    He wondered, if he left the altar untouched, would the ethermica grow back?

    The vein wasn''tpletely covered by soot, the bulk of it under the dust of ages.

    The stone under his feet, washed smooth by the periodical overflowing of the stream, held only the marks of his boots.

    No one hade here in a very long time.

    Krow tapped the ethermica wall with his bay. He''d never mined ethermica before. Some materials needed specific techniques to mine. For example, the surfaces of raw Stormfell marble had to be oiled or the stacked blocks started melding into each other.

    How he learned that was¡­he grimaced, still embarrassed after all these years.

    He hadn''t been in the mining business long. But if there was anything miners knew, it was that ethermica miners were close-lipped about their practices.

    Understandable. Ethermica was sought after, useful in so many things, and rare.

    Krow stuck the point of the bay into a chink between stone and crystal, levered a bit off.

    A chunk the size of a shoe fell, shattered to pieces on the ground with the sound of breaking ss.

    Whoops.

    Was raw ethermica so brittle?

    Then unexpectedly, the shards started folding into each other. Two cubes formed, of very familiar appearance, a size that fit snugly in the palm of a hand.

    Krow picked one up, dumbfounded.

    The surfaces were smooth, as if carefully polished, a perfect cube. He raised it to themplight, examining the facets within the ice-blue andvender crystal.

    It was undeniably an ethermica cube.

    He dropped it.

    It didn''t bounce or do anything extraordinary, but it didn''t break into a thousand pieces either. Still a cube, and unmarred.

    Huh.

    No wonder ethermica miners didn''t talk about it.

    They were <em>cheating</em>.

    People would be outraged.

    If it was ever known that they had zero material processing needs, the price of ethermica in the market would <em>halve</em>.

    Krow chuckled.

    Impressive.

    The sheer usefulness of the crystals, their rarity, their mystery, hid the fact that they were mined for very little overhead. And he, with his own ears, had heard miners moan about difficulties in bringing the ethermica to market.

    He started breaking offrger pieces. The same thing happened.

    What the hell, Norge.

    Just how many weird things did you put in this world?

    Assured that it wasn''t a fluke, Krow brought out the shovel and began prying the rest of the vein out the cavern wall.

    He was halfway through, many hourster, when a loud crack sounded. His eyes widened.

    The ethermica vein crumbled, and so did the wall, ethermica cubes and dust mixing with in rock, soil, dust and pebbles.

    Krow, with his weight braced on the shovel against the wall, slid down with the cave-in. His mind, rxed to near meditation by the long hours of repetitive action, rendered him slow to react.

    -6% HP.

    Shkav!

    He brought up his arms to protect his head, rolled free as soon as he hit solid ground. -8% HP.

    He spat debris out of his mouth. Ugh.

    Stumbling upright only to dive to avoid arge rock, he scrambled behind a stgmite. It was a long few minutes before the pour of rock and soil slowed to a trickle.

    No wonder the rabbits chose this cliff for their warren. The stone was soft.

    Krow got slowly to his feet, peering from behind the rock pir. After a moment, he cautiously took out amp and lit it with a brush of the Firecoil Spell.

    The wall he''d been mining, about ten meters above, had been blockedpletely by debris and boulders.

    He exhaled forcefully, resigned and vexed.

    His mining venture was over.

    Reaching into his Inventory, he guzzled four Low Heals one after the other, followed by a Low Revitalit.

    He pped debris off his coat, coughed at the dust clouds that rose from that action.

    "And I thought ethermica mining was easy," he muttered, direly, waving away the clouds.

    It was still easier than most though. He snorted. What difficulties? The cubes just formed themselves!

    Every ethermica miner ever was a trollish ass.

    The cave he''d fallen into had a floor area just about the size of his apartment. The ceilings were high enough that hismplight could not find them.

    A chill of apprehension shivered through him. Was he trapped here?

    He raised themp, walked the perimeter of the cave.

    The me flickered, blown to a side.

    His tense shoulders loosened. There was airflow.

    He followed it to a fissure in the cave wall. Too small for him to wiggle through.

    He backed away, put themp down. The cylinder of his revolver was swapped for shieldbursts in a trice, and the first shot fired immediately.

    The wall depressed a little, but nothing more happened. He sent another bullet. Then another.

    The third crushed enough of the wall for some of it to crumble, widening the opening.

    He squinted. A tunnely beyond.

    Escape wasn''t assured and Krow wasn''t trusting weak stone. But the feeling of being entombed eased a bit.

    Only then did Krow start gathering ethermica cubes from the debris. He illuminated the space by lighting multiplemps now that he was sure he wouldn''t be suffocated byck of air and started digging.

    He posted the cubes in his Inventory three times to auction in order to clear space, before the uncertain nature of the cave-in had him stop in wariness of pulling out a rock and having the whole thing drop on him.

    The half of the vein he dug out before the wall betrayed him came up to 4937 cubes.

    Gathered from the debris, another 2140 cubes.

    He sat down on a rock at the edge of the tunnel to cancel the buy-order he''d posted days ago.

    His lips twitched when he checked the market on the Tradebook. Ethermica prices had risen to 12 drax a cube.

    His buy-order had just been waiting for the cost to fall under 10 drax again. There were already 1800 cubes in his trade vault. Krow funneled the unused 3200 drax into buying more Starfall weapons.

    A grin split his face, unrestrained, as he returned the Tradebook to Inventory.

    8877 cubes of ethermica should be enough for a strong start to his Enchanting career. An Enchanter''s Forge and workshop wouldn''t be too hard to rent when the time came.

    He gathered his things to leave.

    Navigating the tunnel sent Krow deeper into the mountain than he wasfortable with. Only the constant airflow gave him confidence that he''d be out soon. That and the thought that he could technically shoot the walls until the stone gave way.

    The tunnel ran long, waterlogged in ces, needing him to climb in ces, wide in ces, a tight squeeze in others. Then he came to a fork in the tunnel.

    He checked both openings with themp. Both had a breezeing through.

    He frowned, looking up at the darkness in thought.

    Wait, were the shadows lighter that way?

    He doublejumped upward.

    It <em>was</em> light.

    Coming through a cleft hidden in the upper walls, actual light.

    Krow forced his way through the gap between stctites, pushed past a screen of vines, and burst out into sunlight.

    Instantly, as if sunshine was a charm, his apprehension vanished like inchoate dreams at dawn.

    He walked out into warmth.

    The re blinded him.

    But Krow had never felt so happy to squint at the blue sky in his life.

    He still took a few steps back into shadow, so he could look around. He stowed themp, thankful to be able to do so.

    It was still a cavern, but the ceiling in the¡­south? He checked his Map. Yes, the south, looked to have been sheared off by something, and the morning sun shone cheery warmth into the cave.

    He''d spent an entire night underground.

    He shuddered.

    At least there had been work to keep his mind off things.

    The greenery growing in the sun-touched areas was a wee sight after so long staring at bare stone.

    There was even a tunnel on the side, with openings like clerestory windows to let in light from the mountainside. He jumped down, then climbed to one of the ''windows'' - outside, he saw tree-covered mountains.

    His spirits rose at the view. The mountain peaks weren''t mostly rocky anymore.

    Did that mean he was out of the draculkar hignds?

    He was on the other side of the mountain from where he entered, and lower on the mountain range besides. That definitely shaved some time off his travel schedule.

    Hah, so much luck today!

    Krow sauntered down the tunnel, cheerful. Coming to a fork in the path, he hummed a choosing song and in cavalier manner took the left-hand tunnel it indicated.

    Rounding a corner haphazardly, he didn''t see the crate, tripping magnificently over it.

    "Ow." He pushed himself up off the ground, red blearily at the crate until its implications came to him.

    He tensed, ears stiffening, eyes sharpening. The crate wasn''t one of the fancy hundred-item ones, but it looked unaged, the wood free of mold and rot. The marks on the tunnel floor indicated it had been recently moved.

    Krow jumped to his feet.

    [You have been detected by a member of the Bandit Camp you are attacking!]

    He boggled.

    <em>Who''s attacking?!</em> It took nearly all his self-control not to howl that question out loud.

    [You have been detected by a member of the Bandit Camp you are attacking!]

    Don''t interpret the situation to your satisfaction, minion of the forsaken Norge!!

    Krow traced his steps.

    Detected didn''t mean seen. It meant someone heard him trip like an idiot.

    If he could get back to the cavern, he could just rappel down the mountain from the outside, right?

    Toote.

    "Well now. Look what we have here."

    Krow whirled. The speaker was obviously arge man, dressed in the garb of a Bloodcrow.

    The woman behind the speaker drew back her fancy bow. Krow winced as he recognized it. Pestilential Dragoneye Bow. D- Rare.

    It was popr with low-level yers. And bandits.

    How well he knew that unblockable paralyzing effect. He wasn''t even sure his armor would take it.

    "Looks like a trespasser, brother."

 Chapter 58 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (7)

    <em>Day 9 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Possibly out of the draculkar hignds</em>

    <em>Still lost in the U Mountains</em>

    <em>Status: insisting that a bandit camp doesn''t count as civilization</em>

    *

    Krow dodged the first arrow, skipping back to the original tunnel and drawing his revolver.

    He flung his arm wide toward the light-giving opening in the tunnel. His revolver disappeared from his hand.

    "I''m not here to fight!"

    He didn''t manage to dodge the three arrows after that.

    His body fell over, numb.

    [0:00:01:59:23]

    His armor was awesome. Thest time around, the timer was three minutes long from just one dragoneye arrow.

    The archer walked over, frowning, and shot one more arrow into Krow.

    What the--

    [0:00:02:38:36]

    Witch.

    "Don''t waste your arrows."

    "I can always buy more." The archer shrugged, stepping back.

    "Did you have to knock him out?" The man boosted Krow to a shoulder, pauldron digging into his stomach.

    Ow.

    He''d have vengeance, that''s for certain.

    They brought him to another cave. Thankfully, Krow didn''t need to memorize the tunnels as he was jostled to near dizziness by the man''s gait. The Map would take care of that.

    He was getting sensation back in his limbs when the sted bandit threw him onto the floor before the leader.

    "Another one?"

    The leader of the camp was tall, with ropy defined muscles under the armor. He had a wide scar that bisected his right eyebrow like a red lightning bolt.

    Frowning, he stood and nudged at Krow''s unresponsive body with a muddy boot. "Tsk. How long before we can interrogate him?"

    "Couple more minutes," the bandit who''d carried Krow snorted. "Girei was irritated."

    "The weak ones are always time-wasters."

    Oi, it was his minion archer''s fault that Krow couldn''t move! What was with the kicking? Take it out on her, not Krow!

    The leader turned away. "Have more people up and alert. There might be more of them."

    The female archer, Girei, nodded and left.

    More of who?

    It looked like the bandit camp had other prisoners. Or someone had intentions.

    "This one was interesting, captain," the bandit said, amused. "He threw away his weapon and yelled he didn''t wanna fight."

    The leader grunted in disdain.

    The timer ran out. Krow didn''t move.

    The bandit was chattering at his leader, about this thing and that. Krow tuned the noise out.

    Already having surveyed the room, the only exit was the tunnel they came in, and there were no windows.

    If this was the bandit leader''s office, he was pretty smart.

    Outside the office was arge crater with high sides, somewhat simr to the cavern Krow came out in. It was where most of the group lounged around in leisure time.

    Krow had counted six bandits ying cards and one watching, almost napping.

    The woman archer would probably take a few of them away, lessening the danger. There were only two in the room. He sighed mentally as Scout didn''t give him any information.

    Scouting people was always trickier than monsters. Depending on the level and MND of a person, they had defense against Scout and other data-gathering skills.

    "¡­armor looks good enough. Strip him."

    What?

    Hands grabbed him. Krow didn''t quite manage to hide his instinct to fight the hold. The banditughed. "Looks like this one''s been ying dead, captain."

    [Bandit Lvl 14]

    [HP: 2800]

    [MP: 230]

    Krow broke a whole ten Paralyzing Mist vials in their faces.

    There was no way they were getting their hands on his gear. The thought of recing all his equipment at this stage made his stomach twist like his ulcer had returned.

    He stabbed a butcher knife into theughing bandit minion''s throat while retrieving his revolver from the Inventory and emptying the cylinder into the bandit captain.

    [Bandit Captain Lvl 18]

    [HP: 2880/3600]

    [MP: 421]

    Not even a quarter of the captain''s HP disappeared. Shkav.

    He rolled out the exit, tossed out more vials desperately, quaffed three Low Revitalit.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 14 bandit and gained three (3) silver serpens!]

    It took the guy that long to die?

    A massive fire snake roared at him.

    He dove toward a tunnel.

    Weeping graves, was that the Ophidian me spell? It was a Lvl 4 Spell that when mastered took the shape of a giant snake.

    The head of the snake turned to him, and attacked again.

    A controble snake.

    He threw more vials, heard them break. Someone yelled in rage.

    Whoops.

    A Bandit Camp had anywhere from twenty to fifty bandits.

    It wasn''t something Krow could siege at the moment. But he''d ''attacked'' by being discovered in bandit headquarters after five minutes of being uninvited.

    That was one exnation.

    Another was¡ª

    "Intruders!"

    He grinned when he heard shouts across camp.

    The second exnation was he''d inadvertently gotten in the middle of a quest or an independent yer raid.

    He stopped and turned back.

    Aimed at the bandit captain, who hurtled toward him with murder in his eyes, he equipped another butcher knife even as he started shooting.

    The bandit captain bore a polearm, extremely proficient in its use.

    Krow, even with his Acrobat-given agility, lost 25% off his HP before he could swap cylinders. He backed toward a smaller tunnel, ncing at his Map.

    That limited the captain''s movements to mostly thrusts, instead of the deadly swings of before. It also allowed Krow to shoot without the man being able to dodge much.

    -10% HP. Then another ten percent.

    Krow cursed. He was even more deadly without the swings? The captain, mobility limited, instead ced more speed and force to his lunges and Krow needed to leap back more often, parrying a few of the attacks with the Umon butcher knife.

    He could feel it start to break.

    It didn''t help that Krow''s agility was also restricted by the tunnels.

    -10% HP.

    He jumped back, shooting as fast as he could.

    Click-click-click.

    Krow threw the butcher knife, not waiting for it to hit before swapping cylinders.

    -10% HP.

    "Do you actually want to kill me?!" It was half-hearted indignation. It was a bandit. Of course they''d kill each other. His revolver clicked empty again.

    The captain didn''t answer, just attacked again, eyes focused unnervingly on him.

    Krow could only evade. He tossed more Mist vials out.

    -5% HP.

    He only had 20% HP left.

    He could feel the difference in his stats. <em>Minor Exhaustion</em>, his status warned.

    His only full cylinder left was the shieldburst one.

    He turned and ran for the tunnel end.

    "Coward!" the bandit captain roared, pursuing.

    He found Krow, in the next tunnel, unmoving, facing him.

    The captain grinned, and Krow imagined bloody teeth. "Honor will kill you."

    Krow aimed, shot eight shieldbursts.

    The other''s grin widened, stalking slowly, wringing every ounce of intimidation from the movement. "You missed."

    Krow grinned back.

    Except nothing happened.

    "Oh." Krow huffed, deting. "Yeah, probably."

    He shot one shieldburst at the captain''s feet, causing the man to jump backward. Then three above.

    The stctite fell.

    The captain jolted, surprise on his features. He swung his polearm, cleaved thergest of the falling rocks in half with a glowing sh attack. He was barely touched.

    Heughed, derisive. "Such tricks cannot hide your weak¡ª"

    His eyes widened, gaze on Krow''s cold face, suddenly so near his own. He opened his mouth, but the spike bay through his throat prevented him from saying anything.

    I am weak, those cold eyes told the captain silently, and you died because you underestimated me. They were thest thing he saw in his life.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 18 bandit captain and gained ten (10) silver serpens!]

    Krow quickly divested the man of all usable gear. Six items, two Rare, four Umon, including the weapon.

    Two Rares, bah, were all bandits so rich now?

    [Bloodcrow Pauldron] [Umon][Quality: C+]

    [Bloodcrow Captain''s Gorget][Rare][Quality: B]

    [Lagravad''s Earstuds][Umon][Element Shadow][Quality: B]

    [Bleakscale Viper Vambraces][Umon][Quality: D+]

    [Bloodcrow Captain''s Tassets][Umon][Quality: C]

    [Howling Comet Lance][Rare][Element Light][Quality: A]

    Not bad.

    Unfortunately, the Bloodcrow items could only be traded on the ck market, which he couldn''t ess at the moment. Alternatively, turning in any Bloodcrow item at a Guardhouse would gain a small reward and an even smaller RP bonus.

    Krow consumed vial after vial, restoring his HP and removing debuffs.

    He walked back to the center of the camp, reloading.

    He peered into the central cavern.

    The battle was still on-going.

    Krow met no bandits on the few tunnels back, all likely been attracted by the attack happening from another entrance.

    It was a good thing the captain was wrong, saying he had something like honor.

    Else he would feel very guilty about what he was doing.

    He slipped into the bandit leader''s office. The body of theughing bandit, throat shed open, stilly there.

    Where oh where, would a bandit hide treasure?

    He quickly made a circle of the cave.

    Disappointing. Obviously the loot was kept elsewhere. Krow broke open the locked drawers of the desk with a knife. Money pouches, a broken stone tablet, and an intricate box of the kind that held jewelry.

    He tossed them all in his inventory, eyed the tapestries only a moment before carefully unhooking them from the walls to take with him as well.

    They were pretty, alright?

    He then quickly stripped the corpse.

    "Who is stripping who now?" he muttered under his breath, still not forgiving.

    The haul was disappointing, after the captain. Only three Umons, the rest being Common. Then two of the Umon ones were Bloodcrow armor items.

    The third Umon was a pendant ne he was fairly certain didn''t belong to the bandit as it wasbeled [Am''s Hopegiver] and held a portrait of three siren children when opened.

    He sidled out of the cave, ncing at the battle that was winding down. Did he have enough time to look for the loot caches?

    "Hey, you!"

    Nope.

    Krow casually walked away, ignoring the yell.

    It couldn''t be that someone saw him?

    When he turned into the tunnel, he ran.

    He had no desire to exin himself to an entire yer party. They could be very possessive about loot.

    Krow earned what he had, mostly. They can have the rest.

    Were they using strategies he knew in the future? He wondered how early themon tactics used in bandit camp raids formed.

    If this was organized properly, there would be scouts watching all around the bandit camp. Some quests didn''t end until all the bandits were gone.

    Krow returned to the sunlight cavern, then back into the crevice that led to the other end of the mountain. He checked the rocks for scuffs and scratches he may had inadvertently made.

    There were none that he could see.

    The vines would hide most of it anyway. He stuffed the cleft with stones for good measure, then climbed upward, into the darkness.

    He found himself a ledge andy down to wait.

    If that bandit leader hadn''t found this out in how long they''d beeniring here, the yers who were only concerned with loot wouldn''t, right?

    Periodically, he found his eyes seeking out the bit of light that shone into the hidden tunnel.

    [You''ve assisted the Silver Phoenix Guild with the quest, ''Mountain Bandit Lord''! You''ve gained 10 RP with the Silver Phoenix Guild and 1 RP with Marfall Continent.] [A]

    Finally.

    It was over.

    Can everyone all leave immediately now?

    [You can exchange association RP for guild credit from the Silver Phoenix Guild.]

    Hah.

    That was a tant urging to join a guild.

    Nope.

    Not to mention, yers could be unpredictable. Who knew what Silver Phoenix would do if they learned he''d been skimming on their quest?

    They''d only know his name if he told them himself.

    He''d give them a few hours to leave before resuming his travels.

    Krow signed out to the ount navigation area.

    This was still within the virtual world, but separate from the game. RSI allowed yers this small leeway of a personal virtual room.

    Equipment didn''t follow here, so he couldn''t use the ce for gun-handling practice, though he was still in his avatar.

    Krow sat on the armchair he''d bought for the room, essed his messages from the secure link.

    Holographs on Earth were still unwieldy. He''d only used them a few times forpany reports.

    Here, in the virtual world, he could indulge in the sheer utility of having a holo-terminal.

    It was Thursday afternoon. He hadn''t been nning on ying at this time, since he had his first day of work tomorrow and a ton of orientation materials had been sent to him.

    The game thought otherwise apparently.

    Now, he was reduced to this.

    He settled against thefy armchair and started to study.

    Tsk.

    What a pain.

 Chapter 59 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (8)

    <em>Friday 2:30 p.m. </em>

    <em>November 11, 2095</em>

    <em>Holo-conference room, Rends VR Tourism Unit</em>

    <em>Status: wondering why he ever thought he''d miss corporate life</em>

    *

    Eli''s Friday morning actually had been quite productive.

    He spent nearly four hours in enjoyable discussion with one of Norge''s creative team, several other coordinators, and the Rends VR-tour nning group.

    He''d been assigned to n the tour of Crescent Firebloom Monastery, mostly the logistics of herding 100 testers through the site, with an estimated total of 10,000 people at peak.

    He had a headache already.

    It was being advertised as a meditation retreat.

    With its location in the high peaks near Keklos Lake City in Amvard continent, the Monastery was secluded, separated from mundane world by a sea of clouds, and yet close enough to several viges and towns suitable for visiting.

    But ten thousand people in meditation?

    He could just imagine it: every cliffside ledge, every tree-shaded rock, every burbling waterfall, every peak and every garden pool, there was a budding sage.

    The memes people would make of that scene would be epic.

    He remembered the monasteries of Zushkenar closed themselves off to visitors before the Quake, only admitting child refugees from the war. They slowly started to re-open some years after the transmigration.

    It was one of the nuns of the Stormblessed Monastery who alerted the coalition of Marfall guilds to the discovery that one of the popr nt-based materials could not be acquired because the nt went extinct from overharvesting.

    The discussion with one of the actual creative team was more interesting than he thought, getting to know what ideas, concepts, and events gave rise to the history of a fantasy location.

    They were about to stop, having carried on to lunch and after.

    But then Juni Heddey, the unit director, announced that some people had unexpectedly arrived who would like to discuss a few proposals with the unit.

    The tour coordinators were invited to attend, if they could.

    Eli was being paid by the hour anyway, so he agreed.

    If he thought he''d be stuck watching people go round and round about whether hiring actual artisans to demonstrate what ''craft'' meant or relegating the work to AI avatars would be ''authentic'' enough for the tourists, he''d have left immediately.

    It was a proposal about building artisanmunities in Old World style, whatever that meant.

    Eli''s understanding indicated the proposal meant to locate the said crafting-basedmunities on the ''Rends version of the Silk Road''.

    The size of the game map was approximately simr to half the surface area of Earth, so that was a rather massive undertaking.

    The Marfall continent alone had the same amount ofnd as Africa.

    It should be feasible, but in Rends Craftmasters.

    The presenter talked about ''travel tours'' like there wasn''t a war on.

    The ''version of the Silk Road'' the guy had talked about was decimated in the wars, and barely functional in Zushkenar.

    RSI should know they could wave goodbye to their tour department if the tourists experienced unexpected virtual deaths and were scared away.

    Eli didn''t think they understood how much disdain VR tourists got from those who immersed themselves in the worlds ¨C there were some yers who would definitely make it a point to attack tourist caravans if they could.

    Also, bandits everywhere.

    It was a loss.

    Unless thepany was willing to make the tour routes into safe zones anyway.

    Since some of the Rends advertisements used the tagline ''Any ce, Any battle, I ept your challenge'', Eli didn''t think the safe zones were likely.

    And this?

    What even was that argument.

    Formerly a corporate zombie, Eli could well understand that the underlying reason for the argument was money.

    Why not just ask the craftmasters?

    There was a lull in what some people would say was a quiet shouting match.

    "I''m sorry?"

    Eli blinked at the question being addressed to him. Straightening, he noticed all the eyes around the table and the holo-conference connection were on him.

    Shkav.

    He actually said that out loud.

    He tried to ignore the slight heat he felt on his cheeks.

    There was a chuckle from somewhere. Eli didn''t turn his head to look for whoever that was.

    "Are you suggesting the ''gamers'' of Rends be involved in the project?" The one arguing for hiring artisans, a mid-level executive of whatever department, frowned at Eli. "I am unsure of your expertise, but certainly you know that fantasy crafting isn''t the same as the artisanal workings of ancient history?"

    "Rends Craftmasters was first built on the foundation of realworld artisanry," Eli countered, brain scrambling for data. "The fantasy crafting cameter. I may be wrong, but weren''t you the one who mentioned that the first incarnation of Rends saw an increase of interest regarding the ancient technical trades professed within the game? How much are you willing to bet that most of those were craftmasters tranting their game expertise into realworld artistry?"

    The executive frowned deeper. "You have a point, but surely they cannot have the proficiency and knowledge needed to teach. Teaching is, after all, the point."

    "Have you looked? Sure, there are dilettantes, but any gamepany would know that for a significant number of the game poption, that kind of interest doesn''t fade quickly."

    The Rends main creative team member, Somsak Kleiner, leaned forward. "You know yers aren''t likely to want to work in a VR tourism department."

    "Maybe not. The Masters of War expansion lost a fair chunk of the Craftmasters yer-base. Even if Rends has a crafting upgrade in the future, they''ll likely have turned to other things, other games. But right now, you can still give them a chance to preserve what they loved in the game. So what do you have to lose, making the offer? At worst they would decline and scream about Rends being a sell-out, but they''re already doing that. At the very least, it will cost less than hiring artisans or programming a crafter AI. If you word it right, some of them might even return to Rends because of this."

    The executive snorted. "What crystal ball did you¡ª"

    "You''re one of the coordinators of this tour thing, aren''t you?" A man asked. He was about Eli''s real age, mid-thirties or early forties.

    "Just hired, actually." The most they could do now was fire him on his first day. Eli could tell everyone he crossed that out of his bucket list.

    "Do you y?"

    "I do."

    "Oh," the executive sighed, with a dramatic shrug. "An expert."

    The man ignored thement. "A craftmaster?"

    "Not a craftmaster. I don''t consider myself a battler either. Besides, it''s not been a month since I started."

    "Oh," the executive hid a smile. "An ''expert''."

    He was ignored again.

    "How do you like the game so far?"

    "More challenging than I thought." That was unfortunately true, but after he said the words he felt they weren''t quite the whole truth. He tried again. "More fun than I thought."

    Yes. That was it.

    He''d seen the game as a life or death task; he expected the challenge.

    He hadn''t expected that he''d have so much fun.

    The manughed at that answer.

    Eli grinned.

    Yup. At his age, he was actually having fun in an RPG game.

    He''d never had imagined someone his age enjoying games thest time he was in his actual twenties. Gosh, he''d really been a miserable sack of sourness before, hadn''t he¡­

    Or maybe just too focused.

    The executive looked irritated. "If that''s over, can we return to¡ª"

    "We''ll shelve the proposal for now, marked for added research." The leader of the visitors ended the matter. From the way the others caved, Eli determined the leader was a ''face''. As in, the official site for RSI must have at least one page with that person''s face stered over it.

    One of the assistants murmured something.

    The leader nodded. "This has been enlightening. Thank you, everyone."

    There was a susurrus of murmurs, but finally, the meeting ended.

    Sooner than some wanted, but Eli didn''t care; he quickly made a familiar round of politely insincere goodbyes and left with the rest of the coordinators.

    "I didn''t think I could be so brave as that," one of them muttered, looking at him with something like respect.

    Haha.

    Yes, he didn''t think he was so brave as well.

    He couldn''t just up and say it was an ident, so he forced a smile. "Let''s hope it doesn''t happen again."

    "Yes, exactly." The othersughed.

    Eli went home and dropped his body on the sofa with a long groan.

    *

    <em>Day 11 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Possibly out of the draculkar hignds</em>

    <em>Still lost in the U Mountains</em>

    <em>Status: needing to kill something after realizing that tour nning took more time than he anticipated</em>

    *

    It was high noon in-game when he logged into Rends.

    All the better. The yer party should''ve ransacked the bandit camp and left by now.

    Krow eeled out of the darkness, basked a moment in the light before getting to work.

    The first thing he did was take out the Bones he used for Ghostcaller.

    His Scout was now ranked Third Apprentice, giving him the skill ''Eyes of an Eagle''.

    He couldn''t see out the eyes of his spirits. But he could permanently mark on the Map the monster nests they scouted out now.

    Krow was optimistic that they''d find something.

    Some of therger bandit camps encouraged the growth of monster nests near their headquarters, for added security.

    Even a small monster nest would do.

    He just wanted to hit things a little.

    Krow watched the mothmarmot ghost take off and the greater hignd lizard scurry out of the cavern.

    Then he headed for the exit. It should be just beyond the hollow that was the gathering area for the bandits.

    Automatically taking the tunnels the Map showed him, he walked half in thought.

    Past-Eli had obsessed, in the year before the Quake, about regaining his stride in the corporate world. It hadn''t happened. It still hasn''t happened. Current-Eli''s new job was only corporate-adjacent.

    But this day was a reminder, and he knew he wasn''t a fit in that world anymore.

    Some part of him that was still the Eli of before raged at himself, for the perceived sin of throwing away all he ever wanted. Because he knew that if he desired, he could leverage this job into an RSI management position.

    Wasn''t that all that he trained for in college, for years?

    Once, the idea would have fired him up, motivated him, made him smile at the challenge.

    Now, the thought was barely lukewarm in his gut.

    It wasn''t even that the world was going to end. A management position in RSI could with some work be used to position himself on a ship to the space colonies.

    It''s just¡­he''d really changed, hadn''t he?

    He wasn''t sure that even if he''d chosen to stay in this world, this Earth, that he''d ever find the feeling of belonging. Even if Earth survived.

    Now, if he decided, after everything, to stay, he''d be in space.

    Which was awesome!

    But it would never be ''home''.

    He took a deep breath, feeling as if part of him had been lost.

    It was not a feeling he particrly wanted to feel.

    Something scurried to his right.

    Krow drew his weapon and aimed, a single movement, eyes narrowed.

    "Are you¡­the guild?" A timid voice sounded from the shadows.

    He lowered his weapon. The girl peeked out behind a rock.

    "This isn''t a ce you should be exploring. Are you lost?" Eyeing the dirty clothes and starved appearance of the siren girl, Krow lowered the gun further.

    The question offended the girl.

    "Are <em>you</em> lost?" she shot back. "The bird guild left yesterday already."

    Krow snorted.

    "I''m not with the bird guild. What''s your name? Mine''s Krow."

    "Alweli. Just Liwi."

    He was well aware that Rends was set in a past where standard government assistance for the poor was nonexistent. Even then, beggars were better off than those that roamed the wilds.

    The girl wouldn''t have survived long in the woods.

    So was there a vige nearby, maybe?

    He took out a rime-apple, offered it.

    She looked at it, tempted but wary.

    Oh. She was a siren. Krow bit into the apple, showed clearly that he chewed and swallowed. He offered the bitten fruit again.

    She waited a long moment before took it. Krow mentally revised her age to higher than the six he initially thought she was. He watched as she happily crunched into the juicy flesh.

    There was no way she was alone.

    "Do you know where this ce is? The nearest town or vige?"

    She shook her head. "Tn would know! I''ll show you."

    Krow smiled. "Okay."

    He kept his gun out, ears and eyes alert as he followed Alweli who called herself Liwi.

    Thankfully, there was no ambush.

    When they walked out into the woods, finally out the caves, Krow saw why.

    He stopped at the edge of the clearing, knowing the group would be tense.

    There was a whole collection of people with simr appearance to the girl. Simrly run-down, he meant. The group seemed to be made up of the major races in Guinsant Alliance territory ¨C draculkar, siren, vargvir, and human.

    "Tn!" Liwi skipped to the older draculkar woman who was impressively using a low-level air spell to try and grind the chains of a wincing siren teenager to dust. "This is Krow! He''s looking for the nearest town."

    Krow tried not to sweat at all the eyes suddenly intensely trained on him.

    "I¡­can help with that, if you want?"

 Chapter 60 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (9)

    <em>Still day 11 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Definitely in the draculkar londs</em>

    <em>Still mostly lost in the U Mountains</em>

    <em>Status: trying to hide his bafflement that there were people who didn''t do due diligence on their quests</em>

    *

    What the hell.

    Krow tried not to gape at the speaker.

    The Silver Phoenix Guild party had just packed up and left them here?

    What the hell.

    Why--?

    Krow cut off the question, reminded himself that the majority of yers viewed NPCs as mostly background.

    But didn''t they know at least that acts of goodwill had a greater chance of upping the RP on their quest rewards?

    What did they think the word ''reputation'' in Reputation Points <em>meant</em>?

    If they took the people to at least the nearest vige, their questpletion rating would likely have been increased by a grade.

    "That was¡­shortsighted of them." Krow shook his head. This would affect the reputation of the Silver Phoenix Guild in the area, both in Rends and Zushkenar. "Are they based nearby?"

    He triggered Firecoil again, upping the intensity of the string of me to melt through metal.

    Tn, carefully supervising the removal of chains from the fifty or so people waiting in the clearing, shrugged. "They said they were from a town in the londs. I took it to mean the vargvir woods."

    Right.

    What the draculkar called the ''londs'' were regr hignds for everyone else.

    The foothills and ins that others named the londs in Alliance territory were called the ''vargvirnds'', with requisite scorn. Tn hadn''t even cared to remember the name of the town.

    The chains fell away, with the newly freed man heaving a sigh of relief. Krow had a feeling it was equally from being free as being able to back away from a superheated metal-melting ribbon of me.

    He stepped back to allow Tn to take the next in line.

    He could only use Firecoil twice within two minutes, before he needed eighteen and a half minutes to recoverpletely.

    Her MP recovery was slower than his, but alternating got the chains broken faster. She''d already freed about half of the people before he got here, having been doing it since the guild left.

    ording the people, Silver Phoenix party only opened the cells before leaving, because taking the ves with them would have slowed them down. They had quests to do to keep their quota.

    Apt name for the guild. Their hearts were full of silver, not gold.

    It''s not like he wasn''t simr, he mused. His altruism had goals in mind. There was none of them pure-hearted.

    "How long before everyone is ready to leave?"

    Tn straightened, considered. "I don''t suppose you can lend your weapon for hunting?"

    Krow eyed the group. They''d been worked hard and half-starved, it seemed, as servants to the bandits. Even with a couple days of rest, they looked exhausted.

    The ones that looked the best were those expected to fetch higher prices, those that had variousbinations of skill, beauty, and novelty. There were only a dozen.

    They needed more food, more rest, before they could walk even the twenty kilometers Tn said was the distance to the closest vige.

    "There is a big flock of redcrest pheasant some ways to the west," Tn tilted her head, silver hair fell loose around her face instead of ced in the ornamented styles of the draculkar women he''d met. "If you give us some portion of the meat, we can help with the butchering."

    Oh good. He came across the group before Ghostcaller had discovered any monster nests, so that information was wee.

    He was about to decline the assistance, when others chimed in.

    "We''re used to the work."

    "It''d be nice to actually eat something we hunted for once."

    "Oh, yes! I can''t hunt, but I can carry baskets."

    The enthusiasm from the group withered his protest. He lifted his brows at them. "I won''t take the injured, just the experienced and strongest."

    The notification on his quest page sounded, for the first time since he ''left'' the travel caravan.

    <strong><em>|:Redcrest Harvest:|</em></strong>

    <em>[Category: Common]</em>

    <em>[The former ves of the Bloodcrow Bandit Camp have asked you to assist them with alleviating their hunger. Hunt enough Redcrest Pheasants to feed 103 hungry stomachs. 0/25 Redcrest Pheasants]</em>

    <em>[Reward: +7 Experience Points, +5 Silver Serpens.]</em>

    The average redcrest pheasant rarely grew above Lvl 7, with Lvl 10-12 for their flock-leaders. Theyired in woond, thirty to seventy beasts in thergest flocks.

    They had sharp beaks and even sharper talons on their strong legs.

    After all the chains were broken, Krow had the group makings from vines and the local grasses. Of the group, only fourteen managed to pass his requirements to help the hunt.

    Redcrest pheasants formed closemunities, and if even one of them sounded the rm, the whole of the flock would disappear in a massive flutter.

    The Bloodcrow bandits apparently hunted the pheasants by sending the ves they deemed had less value to fight with the flock with only a knife, while they made wagers.

    Krow had a headache when he realized his fourteen helpers thought that was the way to hunt the birds.

    "What did you think thes were for?" he asked, pressing his temples.

    A teenaged siren shrugged. "So the birds won''t be able to get away? The Bloodcrows didn''t gives."

    A knife and nos?

    "That is," Krow muttered, appalled, "the stupidest way to hunt a bird that can poke your eyes out, fly, and run very fast."

    Another skeptical human girl asked, "What are thes for then?"

    "To create a trap."

    Heid out the n.

    Redcrest pheasants nested in the tall red grass that grew everywhere, generally in the center of clearings, where snakes couldn''t drop down and eat the eggs.

    It was before mid-afternoon, when the sun was hot and high in the sky. The pheasants, at that time would install the clearings with lookouts and go hunt in the shady woond.

    Krow and the hunters would look for a suitable ce to install a dome ofs, overwhelm the lookouts, and then nab the eggs to lure the rest of the flock into the trap.

    Then stun them with Mist vials to make them easier to kill.

    Thes would make sure they got a sufficient number without the pheasants flying or running away.

    Also, to protect the hunters. Everyone was under Lvl 10, barring the older people and even they were under Lvl 20.

    There would be a feathery riot before the Mist vials did what they were supposed to do.

    A single attack from the bigger pheasants could result in serious injuries.

    Apart from Krow, no one had armor.

    A sufficientlyrge grove of trees was found and draped with hiddens.

    Krow and a teenager named Felia, who was apparently voted the sneakiest, headed into the grass to knock out the redcrest pheasant lookouts.

    "See the one that looks like a feathery flower stalk?" he quietly pointed out the hidden lookout, only the crest seen above the grass. Excellent camouge. "That''s one."

    She nodded, then lit up, pointing and whispered, "There''s another!"

    Krow nodded, with a quick grin. "Arge flock usually has two or three lookouts in a clearing."

    There might be no other, or it might be hidden in the trees. "You have your vials?"

    Felia nodded, determinedly keeping her eyes on one of the swaying tufted crests.

    "Let''s go then." He nced at the other six, who on the signal would grab as many eggs as they could find. They nodded and hid. The other seven had minor injuries and were standing by at the trap.

    Krow and Felia crawled toward their respective targets.

    [Redcrest Pheasant Lvl 6]

    [HP: 200]

    [MP: 12]

    It wasying down, body asrge as a king penguin he saw in the zoo once, crest up and eyes sharp.

    With the Mist vials, it didn''t take three minutes before two lookouts were down. The hunters stayed still and silent, looking for another.

    None made itself known.

    Krow sliced the bird''s throat open, ced it in his Inventory.

    [You''ve gained one (1) silver serpens from a monster!]

    Redcrest pheasant didn''t give any notable materials other than its meat. The small red feathers dotting the birds'' white chest were often used inmon jewelry though.

    He stood, waved at the others.

    Felia jumped up and waded immediately into the grass, searching. The others did the same, one of them tossing a vinewoven basket at Felia.

    The pheasant eggs were the size of an elongated softball, an earthy russet color speckled with grey. Four to ten in a nest.

    Krow started tossing eggs into his Inventory.

    Then one of the chosen hunters stopped and stood, looking a little wary. "Er?"

    The man beside him nced up from where he was filling his basket, whispered, "What is it?"

    The other bent down, scooped up something in his hands,ing up with a just-hatched chick.

    Oh no.

    Their rustling steps must have hidden the faint sounds of egg cracking.

    The chick, eyes still closed, let out a searching chirpy sound.

    Everyone froze.

    The chicks still in the nest started chirping as well.

    It would be cutely melodious, had Krow not in mind the carnage it would bring.

    "Run!"

    The group hitched their baskets up to their shoulders and ran, not caring about noise anymore.

    Screeches sounded in the woond, followed by fluttering wings as the hunting redcrest pheasants were alerted to the intrusion into their clearing.

    One of the hunters stumbled, several eggs breaking on the ground.

    Ah, shkav.

    Krow hauled the hunter up, pushed him on. "Go! Faster! Get ready!"

    He drew his revolver.

    Several of therge birds came out of the trees, feathers fluttering, crests high in rm. Seeing Krow, with broken eggs at his feet, they screeched into frenzy and charged.

    A darkspear had one tumbling into the others.

    Not that it helped, with a mass of feathered furies pouring out of the trees toward Krow. He emptied the cylinder into the screeching fluttering mass of parental rage and sprinted toward the trapped grove.

    He dashed past the opening. "Ready!"

    There was no answer, but he knew the hunters in the trees acknowledged. The baskets were gathered at the far end of the grove. He raced toward them, the vehement wrath behind him rising at the sight of the eggs.

    A beak snagged at his coat.

    He dove and rolled.

    "Drop!" roared someone in the tree above him.

    A heavy vine cascaded between him and the redcrest pheasants at his back. Krow still had to scramble back from the beaks and the talons straining at thes.

    Simrly wovens around the grove dropped simultaneously, circling the pheasants.

    There was a long moment.

    "Last drop!" came a yell from the opening of the trap. Thest fell into ce with a weighty thud.

    "Vials!" came the answer. Mist vials hurled into the mass of frothing feathery madness broke to create a cloud of paralyzing smoky air.

    Krow smiled. wless.

    A pair of worn-through boots dropped down beside him from a branch. "They almost got you there."

    He grinned up at the siren wearing the old boots. "Not today."

    With so many hands, butchering the mass of unconscious birds went fast.

    <em>[You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:Redcrest Harvest:|</strong> with 31/25 Redcrest Pheasants hunted, gaining +7 Experience Points, +5 Silver Serpens!]</em>

    <em>[You''ve finished the Hidden Sub-objective: Egg Hunt with 46/25 Redcrest Eggs hunted, gaining +3 Experience Points, +2 Silver Serpens!]</em>

    <em>[You''ve finished the Hidden Sub-objective: Teach a Hunter, Feed Him Forever, gaining +1 Reputation in Guinsant Alliance Territory!]</em>

    <em>[Quest Completion: A+]</em>

    Krow handed some of the spices he''d bought in Gremut to one of the draculkar cooks, who looked at the spices like he''d seen the holy grail, with nearly blubbering awe.

    How long had that guy been without draculkar-brand grilled meat skewers, he wondered as he escaped before they both got embarrassed more.

    Scaling the cliff, he brought out the Bones again.

    Laying back on a high ledge in the warm afternoon, with the scent of cooking meat in his nose and fair breezes keeping the temperature just right, he rxed.

    When Liwi scrambled up the rock face to loom over him, he was almost dozing.

    "We''re eating! Are you eating with us?"

    He yawned and nodded.

    A nce at the Map told him his ghostly scouts had found two monster nests.

    Tn met them at the edge of the clearing, gave Krow a familiar yellow marble. "You''ll have more use for this, likely."

    Huh.

    That wasn''t true.

    A [Lesser Orb of Air] went for about 200 drax on the Bourse right now. Prices would only rise.

    "This is too much," he informed her.

    The pheasants wouldn''t even sell for a tenth of the Orb''s worth.

    "Do you refuse it?"

    Krow knew better than to do something so impolite.

    "I will make fair exchange," he refuted. He removed a crate from his Inventory. One hundred vials of Low Heal.

    Low Heal outside the beginner viges cost thirty-six serpens a vial. A hundred vials cost 144 drax.

    "The Orb is still worth more." He added. "Therefore, I''ll escort your group to the nearest town, as a guard. With this, we''ll be able to head out tomorrow morning."

    Tn opened the crate, blinked. After a moment, she nodded. "Agreed."

    The quest notice pinged for the second time this day.

    <strong><em>|:Guarded Escort to Karukorm Town:|</em></strong>

    <em>[Category: Common]</em>

    <em>[You''ve proposed to escort 103 people to the town of Karukorm, twenty and a half kilometers to the southwest. Get them to the town''s First Tower safe and sound!]</em>

    <em>[You will gain: +7 Experience Points, +5 Silver Serpens]</em>

    Krow sat down beside Liwi, who beamed at him and handed him a crudely carved wooden bowl full of meaty stew.

    He sipped the liquid, thickened by roots some of the others dug up in the forest. With the spices, pretty good vor.

    "Why?"

    He looked up.

    An older siren met his eyes with a calm gaze, a bowl of stew on his knees. "Why do you do this?"

    Krow sipped from his bowl again, considering. He sighed inwardly, and stated. "Once, I was freed."

    The sirens who heard nced over, but didn''t do anything else. There was a gesture to go with the words, but that wasn''t something he was supposed to know in this time.

    A draculkar, from a traditionally ve-owning race, saying those words would give not nearly the same impact, but it was enough.

    To anyone else, the words would just be Krow saying he was paying kindness forward.

    Something like that.

    In thenguage of Sirens, there were different implications.

    It wasn''t even suspicious.

    Krow had read a story in a craftmaster forumst month that used those words, though with less importance than the words had in Zushkenar.

    The old siren nodded, and went back to his stew.

    Krow did the same.

 Chapter 61 - [Bonus ] 14 Days And 14 Nights (10)

    <em>Day 12 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Still definitely in the draculkar londs</em>

    <em>Now mostly not lost in the U Mountains, on the way to Karukorm Town</em>

    <em>Status: listening to 100+ guides talk about 100+ locales that aren''t the ce he''s looking for</em>

    *

    Traversing twenty kilometers was supposed to be easy.

    Krow even had guides that knew the local area.

    He''d logged off and went to sleep before returning at gametime dawn to see that the whole group was already ready to go.

    Not an hour after the hundred-strong group set out though, he was trying not to show the sheepishness he felt at the group being menaced by two Vinebears.

    Krow had spent the in-gamete afternoon and nightfall yesterday dealing with the two monster nests that his Ghostcaller marked on the map.

    The first was another nest of shotbark rabbits, the second was the caveir of a Marfall Vinebear.

    There was no bear in the cave, but instead Krow was able to happily harvest an abundant crop of Marfall Bearvine Berries.

    He should''ve scouted the area further.

    The vinebears harassing them this morning must smell the berries on him.

    [Marfall Vinebear Lvl 18]

    [HP: 1050][MP:60]

    [Marfall Vinebear Lvl 16]

    [HP: 750][MP:50]

    "Couldn''t me the bears," he muttered as he dodged a paw swipe and nted six darkspears in the smaller bear, eliminating the faster of the two.

    [You''ve gained two (2) Silver Serpens from a monster!]

    Bearvine Berries could only ripen with constant careful application of magic. After years using their mana to grow Bearvines, hoping the slow-growing nt would finally fruit, Krowes by on the year the vines finally reward their meticulous efforts and swipes all of it?

    He''d be mad too.

    The other roared, but it was weaker, even ifrger.

    It lumbered toward him, shes of red in its eyes.

    Quickly, before it gained the full strength of Enragement, Krow shot darkspears until it dropped.

    [You''ve gained two (2) Silver Serpens from a monster!]

    He surveyed the area, determining there were only two bears, before holstering his gun and jumping down from the fallen log to touch the bear.

    [You''ve gained two (2) Pouch of Marfall Bearvine Seed from a monster!]

    The other yielded the same.

    He waved to the group, the experienced butchersing over.

    The smaller bear stood three meters on four paws, and was divested of a [Bearvine Pelt], [Trailing Vine Bone] and 306kg of edible meat. The ws and teeth, as well as the skull were Common and without grade, but they could be sold still for jewelry or trophies.

    Krow took the Bone and the single pelt as his share, leaving the rest to be distributed.

    Therger bear yielded a lower quality pelt, and 421kg of meat. Krow declined the pelt when it was offered, but epted two of the edible bear paws.

    The thought cooking them dwarvir-style made his mouth water.

    Hopefully, he still remembered the recipe correctly.

    The group left the area with grass-woven sacks of leaf-wrapped meat on their backs.

    "Liwi, distribute these, one per person, alright?" Krow gave the girl an armful of Monstrepel Sachets. He only used them when he slept at night anyway.

    When she nodded and went off, other children came to help. He sent them off with ruffles of their hair and arms full of the monster repellent sachets.

    Their group smelled like a bloody feast right now. Krow would rather not tempt all the predators within scent distance.

    He tore open part of the sachet to reveal the string, which he tied onto his belt.

    They walked for another two hours before Krow saw something that surprised him. Towers rising against the nearby peak. He turned to the woman walking beside him. "Has it been twenty kilometers already?"

    They''d been walking fairly slowly, as there were a few disabled and older people in the group.

    Even with the distraction of the bears, it was barely noon. Krow had expected them to be walking untilte afternoon.

    Of course, if the travel was faster than expected, he wouldn''tin.

    It wasn''t the woman who answered.

    "That''s Ghorkirst Vige. The town is further on."

    Krow nced back to see it was a draculkar who''d spoken. He nodded in acknowledgement.

    Surreptitiously, he eyed his questpage. Shkav, it did say Karukorm Town.

    He''d promised to send them to the nearest town, not the nearestmunity. An oversight.

    Oh well, it didn''t matter.

    He needed a town to buy Map Pieces anyway.

    It was likely better this way. A town had the resources to support the influx of former ves looking for work.

    "Let''s see if we could hire a few carts in the vige." He loped forward.

    He''d noticed the weaker members of the group starting to exhaust themselves.

    The people of Ghorkirst were surprised at therge amount of people at their doorstep, but were generally weing. They did keep their children inside their houses.

    "Not many travel by here," one of the administrative staff exined. "Especially not in groups sorge."

    They were on foot too, dirty, bloody, and some appearing like they hadn''t eaten in weeks.

    It must have looked strange.

    "They were prisoners at a Bloodcrow camp in the upper cliffs."

    "Ah, bandits." The draculkar''s eyes narrowed, with anger sparking in his eyes. "I understand. But we''re a small vige. There are rarely free carts."

    A small vige, yes. They had barely three towers.

    "If they have drivers to go with the carts, I can pay them. Ten serpens each for the trip to Karukorm."

    The administrator nodded. "I will see what I can do."

    Not thirty minutester, the weakest of the group were distributed between three farm wagons. Krow waved away the administrator''s apologies that he couldn''t find more.

    "As long as the ones who need it the most can rest," he said, pressing a small pouch of serpens into the man''s hand. The draculkar had thought to include casks of fresh water in the wagons without prompting.

    Their travel quickened then.

    Enough that it was mid-afternoon when the towers of Karukorm showed on the horizon.

    The Merast of Karukorm, that is to say, the mayor, received them immediately, saying a messenger had ridden from Ghorkirst.

    The merast''s eyes caught on someone behind Krow and widened. "Tn, kinswoman, you¡­this?!"

    Krow backed away as fast and politely as possible.

    Tn strode forward, interrupted the burgeoning fury with a hand pped on the merast''s shoulder. "Toga, calm. They are dead and gone." She leaned forward and said something lowly in the younger draculkar female''s ear.

    The merast''s anger cooled to ice, and she nodded.

    She looked at the group. "We''ve prepared healing solutions and food in the tower''s Hall. My apologies, for not seeing the Bloodcrow activities in the area sooner."

    Krow edged around the group to the drivers and paid them. They left with a smile and a wave at the children they''d been telling stories to for thest several hours.

    <em>[You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:Guarded Escort to Karukorm Town:|</strong> with no injuries and no casualties, gaining +7 Experience Points, +5 Silver Serpens!]</em>

    <em>[You''ve finished the Hidden Sub-Objective: Ten Hour Walkathon with 8 hours and fifteen minutes of travel, gaining +2 Experience Points, +1 Silver Serpens!]</em>

    <em>[You''ve finished the Hidden Sub-Objective: Return My nmember, gaining +6 Reputation with Karukorm Town Administration!]</em>

    <em>[Quest Completion: A-]</em>

    Sess!

    "You are the one they call Krow?"

    Krow nodded briefly. "s Krow, merast."

    The draculkar nodded. "You have done a great service to these people. You have done a kindness to me and my n, personally. I would have you ask a boon, in return."

    Krow took out the pendant called [Am''s Hopegiver]. He''d only remembered it when he reached for the Monstrepel Sachets. "I got this off a bandit corpse. By all indication, it didn''t belong to him. Will you see that it gets to who owns it?"

    The merast''s brows lifted. She examined the pendant Krow put in her hand. "Of course. But why did you wait until now¡­?"

    "Oh. Uh," Krowughed a bit. "I was the lone stranger in the group. I didn''t want them to think I was involved with the Bloodcrows."

    He''d forgotten about it.

    The merast nodded. "Rest assured, I will see that the owner receives it myself."

    "Thank you."

    She inclined her head. "This is not a boon for yourself, s Krow. Is there nothing you want?"

    Well, since she was asking¡­.

    "Is it possible to have a look at the town''s rainbow map?"

    "¡­the rainbow map."

    The one that showed census and tax data, property borders,nd disputes, and a few other secrets that should not be seen by all and sundry, she did not say, but her eyes studied him quizzically.

    Yes,dy, that map.

    "Just the location of towns and viges, not the¡­other stuff," he rified. "Just for the area around the borders of the Grandshield Forest."

    She rxed a bit.

    Hah, he knew she would.

    The eastern borders of the Grandshield Forest, where it met the U Mountains, were technically within draculkar nation territory. But they were londs that were nearly vargvir woods and therefore of little importance in the mind of most draculkar.

    Him wanting to know about the borders was of little harm, in the merast''s eyes.

    "Very well. You will not be alone, of course, and the map you copy will be edited."

    "That''s fine."

    Yes!

    His Scout subss recently gained the Eyes of an Eagle skill. His Tracker subss already had Target Marking.

    Both together? Haha!

    He didn''t need paper to copy a map.

    He only needed to see it for his system Map to permanently engrave it into itself.

    They covered most of the map, and removed the colored membraneyers of sensitive data. But what was left was still important.

    His eyes caught and lingered on the name he''d been searching for since he entered Rends.

    Cerkanst, one of the hubs of monster material and potion ingredients in Zushkenar.

    The crafter guild that upied the town grew to prominence because the town was both near the resource-rich forest and a number of monster level zones that provided material for some of the most expensive, popr armor and weapon upgrades and enchants.

    Sorry, but Krow was taking over first.

    He pretended to note the closestmunities to the forest on the piece of paper, all the way from Beetle Lake in the north to the swamps in the south.

    Even as he copied haphazardly enough that the watcher rxed, the terrain and names and distances were filling up the empty spaces of his Map.

    He rechecked his paper map, tilting his head to get the most of the uncovered section.

    "Done."

    The clerk examined his drawn map, nodded. "This is fine. Just through the door again, before I return everything, thank you."

    "Oh no, thank <em>you</em>."

    He ignored the clerk side-eyeing him for a moment and muttering, "Why do the viins always say it like that?"

    Krow would beg to differ. He wasn''t some cheap viin.

    But he was too happy to argue.

    He now had a map of the southwestern edge of the draculkar londs that was moreprehensive than any high-level Map Piece he could buy.

    And finally, he could now say he wasn''t lost in the draculkar wilds.

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Please don''t copy and post on other sites.

    If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 62 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (11)

    <em>Still day 12 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Karukorm Town, The Southwestern Londs</em>

    <em>Status: cheerfully exploring and no longer lost</em>

    *

    With the meat and materials from the redcrest pheasants and vinebears, the group of formers ves had some resources with which to start their lives over, not to mention Tn had personally taken on the role of making certain everyone had sufficiently recovered and was on their way to a better life, even the vargvir.

    Seeing that, Krow left them to it.

    Karukorm was quite different from Nyurajke. The main difference, really, was that Karukorm had more structures that weren''t towers.

    The town had six towers which, from what he knew, was low for a draculkar town.

    Nyurajke had twenty-six towers. He''d counted. But then, it had been a major trade town.

    From Karukorm''s traffic, it had fewer visitors. But it was still a town on one of the major roads in therge draculkar nation, and should''ve had no fewer than ten towers.

    As one of the riders in the caravan described it, there were ''two hands'' afforded to every town leader ¨C one seen, one unseen, and two that only showed their ten fingers.

    From the groans it had elicited, it was an old saying.

    Krow entered the apothecary shop, to the jingling sound of an ordinary bell.

    "Wee!" A female draculkar stuck her head out from between two shelves behind the counter. "I''ll be with you in a moment!"

    The head disappeared, and a cracking, twisting noise sounded, followed by a low curse.

    Krow''s eyebrows raised at the continuing sounds.

    The apothecary popped out from beneath the counter, leaned her elbows on the wood as if nothing happened. "Right. What would be your pleasure?"

    "Fool''s Antidote, if you have it."

    Fool''s Antidote was called that because, in addition to its inherent curative effects, it used a portion of the drinker''s HP to defeat the poison ¨C the danger was such that if they weren''t careful, they''d die from drinking too much.

    On the other hand, it was the best Antidote against mysterious poisons because of that attribute.

    "Three drax, four serpens a vial."

    Krow considered. "A lower price, and I''ll buy ten hundred-item crates of it."

    "Oh, uh¡­three thousand one hundred for everything."

    Krow nodded.

    She smiled, pleased. "You''ll have to pick them up from the back storage. We have a surplus, since two orders from the southern viges had been canceled recently. Have you transportation ready?"

    Aha, it looked like Krow was now back to ignoring quest prompts.

    How nostalgic.

    Thest time felt so long ago.

    Exiting the apothecary, he ran into Liwi, her friends Kadran and Mellea, and two older teens that obviously been sent to keep an eye on them ¨C a siren and a draculkar respectively.

    "Krow!" Liwi waved enthusiastically. "We''re gathering supplies!"

    He greeted them. "You''re not staying then?"

    He hadn''t really expected them to stay. The vargvir race had contentious rtionships with draculkar at best, and sirens preferred warmer and wetter climes than these mountains.

    Sure enough, the teenaged sirenughed at the notion. "Too much air in these high ces. A wonder you don''t all get blown off the peaks."

    "The stories say we were offended the lords of cloud and sky, who cursed us to crawl onnd," the draculkar said with an air of absent-mindedness. He examined Krow openly, not hiding his curiosity. "And no matter how the wind howls to return our wings, the curse binds us to the earth, so there won''t be any blowing off."

    "That exins all the towers," the siren shuddered. "Never again."

    "You wanted to see the world like a bird," the draculkar pointed out. "How was I to know you were afraid of heights?"

    "You could''ve warned me there was such a thing!" the sirenined. "There are no ''heights'' where Ie from."

    Liwi tugged on Krow''s coat. "Where can we find um, oilcloth cloaks? And waterbags."

    "We''ve been walking for ages," huffed her friend Kadran.

    Mellea, the tallest of the three children, sent a dubious look at the bickering teens. "They maybe might have offended the Guard, so we couldn''t ask questions."

    Krow was amused. Who again was keeping an eye on who?

    "I''m heading for a travel shop myself. Better get there before it closes."

    It was nearly evening, after all.

    The assistance provided by the town was modest, but it was enough to buy waterproof cloaks and waterbags for a hundred people.

    Unless, the proprietor was being particrly unhelpful.

    Krow came back empty-handed from searching for a map to the Guinsant Alliance territory, only to see the teens sporting nk gazes, having ced themselves between the proprietor and the younger ones.

    "I''m telling you, this is what all the travelers buy here." The draculkar at the counter had the gall to look exasperated. "They may look like this, but these are the durable kind. The best kind, they grow morefortable with use."

    Krow walked over. They eyed the stiff cloaks and old waterbags.

    No one believed him.

    "You''re saying this is the best that this town can produce?" Krow pretended to inspect the items seriously. "The most popr travel products in the kingdom?"

    "Of course!"

    Krow brought out his Travelkit.

    The draculkar stiffened.

    Krow took out the waterbag from the kit, inspected it side by side with the waterbag that the proprietor offered them.

    "I''ve been deceived!" Krow cried quite sincerely, shocking everyone. "And I thought this was working well for me."

    He sighed despondently, the very picture of innocence betrayed.

    "I must thank you for ridding me of my ignorance, my friend. I now know, this Travelkit is trash! Shopkeeper," he turned pleading eyes on the stunned but relieved draculkar behind the counter. "Forgive the children for their mistake. At this moment, we cannot pay for the best that the kingdom can offer. But this, something like this trash is good enough for us. Will you sell us this kind of waterbags instead?"

    The shopkeep froze.

    He looked at the Travelkit and saw it was an authentic extended kit.

    He looked into Krow''s eyes and saw nothing but sincerity.

    "I will tell everyone of your generosity, of course," Krow continued. "I wish to be an honorable traveler after all, that''s when I came across my young friends and became their travelingpanion."

    He waved at the kids with him, who''d hriously decided to y along and now sported their best crestfallen and apologetic looks.

    They were as woebegone as kittens in the rain.

    "I will buy a set of these cloaks and bags, so we will know what quality looks like. Something to show off to everyone Ie across," Krow lifted the old wretched waterbag as if it were made of gold. "And tell them it is the best that Karukorm can offer!"

    The shopkeep''s face paled.

    "So shopkeep," Krow leaned across the counter, smiling, almost unable to keep the sharklike grin from his face. He lifted the Travelkit''s waterbag. "Will you sell us instead, this type of cheap cloaks and waterbags? We will gather our money to acquire just the one set of your best items, and show them off at every vige and town! I promise, your good name, the name of the Karukorm travel shop, will sound from here to the ins!"

    If the shopkeep was pale before, he was bloodless now.

    Krow could see his eyes moving from side to side, frantic, racing to get himself out of this predicament.

    "I¡­" the shopkeeper raised a sleeve to wipe his brow. "I''m afraid we don''t keep this type of¡­trash."

    "Ah?" Krow deted dramatically.

    He heard sounds from the group behind him, almost like weeping. He tried very hard not to twitch and re at them. Tears would be overselling it, you brats!

    "Should we go to another travelshop?" He asked, to keep the shopkeeper''s attention on him. "Do you think we could bring your wares there, just topare?"

    The shopkeep stared at him like he was staring at an oing tsunami.

    Krow met the nk gaze with his most innocently confused look, while he cursed internally.

    Shkav, did he go too far?

    "I have¡­" the shopkeep shook his head, then forced a wide smile. "I don''t have items so cheap as yours, but I have something a bit better. I will sell them to you for a discounted price, as long as we never speak of it again¡­"

    The tone of thest sentence sounded truly pained.

    Krow brightened. "You really are a person to know, shopkeeper! Meeting you is the blessing of the gods!"

    Mellea, with great timing, pushed between the teenagers to hand the list to the shopkeep with a trembling smile. "Th-thank you!"

    The eyes, bright, expectant, and wide as a star-chaser looking at an idol, then the great blow, the tremulous stutter.

    Krow mentally gave her a big thumbs up.

    Children were so precocious these days.

    The shopkeeper twitched, nodded. "I''ll get a crate."

    He turned and left.

    The transaction went smoothly, with Krow cheerfully chatting while ignoring the sullen demeanor of the shopkeeper.

    He threw the shopkeeper onest bright smile as he herded the kids outside and around the nearest corner.

    "Pfft!"

    Krow then realized that the others hadn''t been weeping. They''d been stifling amusement.

    He mock-red at them. "Are you not grateful, to have met such a <em>kind and understanding</em> shopkeeper?"

    The older three roared gleefulughter.

    Krowughed with them.

    Kadran and Liwi, who were the youngest, looked at each other, mystified.

    Kadran tilted his head, ears flopping. "I don''t understand."

    Mellea leaned on her furry friend, still giggling. "Just know that Krow was awesome."

    Liwi bounded over to Krow. "Mellea said you were awesome!"

    The other girl flushed. "Liwi!"

 Chapter 63 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (12)

    <em>Why are we still on Day 12 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Karukorm Town, The Southwestern Londs</em>

    <em>Status: getting ready for the now regr Saturday lunch-visit with Aunt Am</em>

    *

    Krow was about to log out, but paused.

    Giving [Am''s Hopegiver] to the town merast brought to mind the other things Krow had taken from the Bloodcrow camp.

    Sitting on the bed in the room the town had granted him for the night, he took them out. Six money pouches, a broken stone tablet, and a jewelry box.

    The money pouches, he just poured into his Inventory. The haul totaled 52 drax, 174 serpens, and six umon rubies mixed in with the coins.

    That was a massive reward for a yer under Lvl 20.

    With him buying stuff in bulk all over the ce though, it was a pittance.

    He looked over the stone tablet, flipping it this way and that. The symbols were faint, the writing indecipherable.

    What reason did the bandit captain keep it in with his treasures?

    Or maybe it was just something he''d tossed into a junk drawer. Krow returned it to his Inventory, shaking his head.

    The jewelry box was more interesting.

    Krow opened it.

    Brought it closer, tilting it to look suspiciously at the ck lumpy stone inside.

    It didn''t even shine like a gem.

    That bandit captain, did he have a weird definition of the word ''treasure''?

    Curious, he picked it up.

    [You''ve activated a bloodstone of Kandradka! Do you want to continue?]

    His brows shot up, intrigued.

    Bloodstone?

    Sounded vaguely familiar. Where had he heard it though?

    He tilted his head, looking for the memory.

    Nothing.

    He studied the lump of red-tinged coal in his hand. It didn''t give him vibes that he needed to avoid it though.

    The bloodstone felt rough under his fingers, slightly crumbly.

    It was old.

    If there was one thing he knew about old things in Zushkenar, it was ''caveat emptor''.

    He tapped his free fingers on a knee.

    On the other hand though, this was still a gameworld. What would he win, if he did not dare?

    There was only one answer to the question.

    "Yes."

    The bloodstone crumbled into a cloud of dust, the particles sucked into his hand before he could react.

    Krow fell off the bed, pain coursing through him.

    The suddenness of the attack choked him, not even giving him the leeway to scream.

    <em>Minor Poison,</em> shed in his peripheral. Not a fraction of a secondter changing, to <em>Major Poison</em>.

    He scrambled for his inventory, pushing himself through the pain.

    <em>Fatal Poison.</em>

    Shkav!

    He downed the first Fool''s Antidote.

    25% sheered off his HP in the blink of an eye, in addition to the 50% the poison already took.

    The amount of HP taken from the patient was greater, the more fatal the poison, a distant part of his mind that was not scrambled in pain noted.

    He grabbed for a crate of Low Revitalit, propped himself up against the wall.

    Vials from both potions fell to the floor like rain as he desperately tried to prevent his HP from dropping to zero.

    He had known many pains, he reminded himself. And this was not the worst.

    It was not even the top ten.

    3% HP left. 2%, then slowly, it started ticking up. 5%, then 4% again.

    He didn''t know how long the percentages rose and fell before the notification sounded.

    25% HP.

    [You have sessfully proven the strength of your ancestry, gaining the bloodline of the Skaldevin of Kandradka!]

    Krow ignored it, muscles trembling, as he took out a cask of water and started scooping up cupfuls.

    He leaned his head back against the wall. That was a bit more intense than expected, considering the diminished pain sensation of the virtual system.

    He breathed deeply.

    It definitely wasn''t something he wanted to experience in real life.

    His eyes opened.

    Bloodvial.

    That was what sounded familiar.

    The Attendant at the character creation area had offered him bloodvials of racial traits, to make a hybrid character.

    He frowned.

    What traits did that bloodstone give him, if it was like a bloodvial?

    What kind of bloodline?

    He red at the unhelpful notification.

    What was a skaldevin? A kandradka?

    The races of Zushkenar hadnguages of their own, and those were integrated into the transmigrators'' abilities depending on the chosen avatar race, along with themon tradenguage.

    Gojo, for all that him-as-Scare learned plenty about the hignds from the draculkar, had rarely spoken his nativenguage.

    He''d definitely never taught it.

    Krow stood slowly, the after-effects of activating the bloodstone fading fairly fast.

    He frowned at his right hand, the hand the bloodstone had dispersed into. He opened and closed his fist.

    Nothing was different.

    He didn''t feel any different either.

    Virtual world, he reminded himself, with a slightly embarrassed huff.

    Physical checks wouldn''t tell him anything.

    Krow paused, hearing a sound outside his room.

    He opened the door, startling a bleary-eyed clerk seemingly on his way to bed. The workers of the administrative tower were allotted living space within it.

    "If I said ''skaldevin''," Krow stated briskly, "you would say?"

    The clerk stared at him, owl-eyed, before blinking. "Ah¡­we''re a free town and have nothing much to do with disputes of the nobility?"

    Hah.

    "And kandradka is?"

    The clerk opened his mouth, shut it, squinted as if searching his brain, then finally shook his head.

    "Thank you." Krow closed the door, stood there staring at the wood pattern.

    Well.

    That was easy.

    It was a noble bloodline of some sort. A noble bloodline of whatever Kandradka was ¨C a ce, a creed, a vegetable?

    All that, and it was <em>just a noble bloodline?!</em>

    Krow turned away calmly from the door, lifted his clenched fist to the ceiling, bared his fangs.

    Norge!!!

    His technique of ''silent roar promising vengeance'' done, he walked to the bed and toppled into the pillows.

    The beds in the real world, he noted idly whileying there with his face t on the bed, were better than the beds in the game.

    He thumped his fist on the mattress under him.

    Thump again.

    Thump!

    Tsk.

    There was something about the texture and bounce that was just a bit off.

    Well, both were better than the beds of Zushkenar. At least there was little chance of lice or bedbugs on Earth or in Rends.

    He flopped over onto his back.

    Noble bloodline. It would be usefulter on, as nobles had broadernd ownership limits than anyone non-noble. But he also remembered that every yer was given a chance to gain a noble bloodline during the hometown registration.

    It definitely, absolutely, didn''t need the experience of a bloodstone!!

    Krow calmed himself down.

    This was good, he told himself ¨C a definite bloodline instead of just a chance for one was good.

    People did say that a fish on the line was worth more than one in the river.

    Was it worth the pain?

    It was one more solid step toward safeguarding his future, that''s certain. He could n some of his formerly vague ideas more specifically now.

    He nodded,y back on the bed, and logged out.

    *

    <em>12:45 p.m. Saturday</em>

    <em>12 November, 2095</em>

    Eli''s visit with his aunt had been rxing, quiet and slow. They''d sat on the patio talking about nothing very important, then took a walk around the gardens of the subdivision.

    "It''s good you have a job again," she hummed as she inspected arge beetle on a leaf. "Some way to support yourself."

    Oh no.

    "Perhaps even more than yourself?"

    He knew it.

    "I don''t see anyone I like that way, aunt."

    "Tsh! That''s because you coop yourself up in your house and don''t meet the good ones!" She shook her head. "No matter. You know it''s fine if you don''t get married or have children, don''t you?"

    Eli blinked. That wasn''t something she''d said before. "Aunt?"

    She waved his confusion away irritably. "I had a talk with someone. He said I shouldn''t force archaic notions on young people."

    But she looked away.

    Eli took his aunt''s hand. "And the changing world shouldn''t force their avant garde notions on the elder generation who only want to live their lives in peace." He frowned. "Maybe you shouldn''t listen too much to that someone."

    She turned toward him, patted his cheek fondly but with an amused smile. "Do you think we old people have never shook the world in our own time? Don''t make me sound like a dusty pir best left to some museum. And is a young sapling like you telling this leathery old bird not to listen to bad influences? Hah!"

    He smiled, but he knew where her hearty. He looked into her eyes. "Aunt, I promise you. I won''t be thest person with the name Crewan. And I''ll be happy, I promise."

    She teared up, looked away again.

    "Alright," she said, then smiled at him, content. "Alright then."

    It''s not like he didn''t know why she was telling him this.

    He swallowed the ache in his heart and tried to lighten the rest of the visit with his impressions of Rends as a game and asking more about the new people she was meeting in the VR tourist world.

    She gleefully started telling him that she and her friends spent yesterday drinking coffee and racing dromonds through the warm sun-filled beaches of Ancient Greece with a few other tourist families.

    He listened carefully.

    She really was happy.

    He was relieved. In hisst life, she was surely this happy during the same time, right?

    He hoped.

 Chapter 64 - 14 Days And 14 Nights (13)

    <em>Day 13 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Just outside Karukorm Town, The Southwestern Londs</em>

    <em>Status: finally heading out to Cerkanst</em>

    *

    Saying goodbye to Tn, Liwi and the rest took a brief time of the morning.

    Krow fiddled with the straps of his Travelpack, getting them to rest morefortably on his shoulders. It might be more empty than not, but it was also an added defense for his back.

    He was walking to his next destination because he heard gossip that there were reweed Grass patches all along the road.

    Krow wanted the seeds.

    reweed Grass was a Common nt, he didn''t think he knew any recipes where it was used. But it was one of just three nts that transmigrators had found was suitable for making durable high-quality paper.

    Paper in Zushkenar wasn''t that important, it was either the ordinary kind for students or the coarse kind used for wrapping. Official contracts and the majority of writings were done on parchment.

    Parchment was superior, the material able to handle the security enchants that were so important to Zushkenarimunications privacy and theplicated enchantments needed to bind signatories to a Contract.

    The paper made from reweed was deemed suitable for minor Contracts, and that was a moneymaker when the wars had decimated supplies and the parchmentiers could not keep up with demand.

    The Guinsant Alliance territory wasn''t known for parchment production. Or anything much, really. Its main traded products were from agriculture, husbandry, and forestry.

    A quiet ce to grow.

    It helped that the races who called it home were all vicious in retribution.

    Sirens would poison any outsiders trying to enter their wends.

    The vargvir were known warriors and few people would want to provoke that hot-headed race.

    The draculkar had a habit of tossing people who offended them off cliffs.

    And the humans were human. In Zushkenar, where they were not the primary predators of the but were just one of nine reigning races, they could be terribly territorial.

    Alliance territory was quiet, but it wasn''t all nice.

    Krow brightened when he saw the rumours were true. The slender and stiff leafdes, long as an arm and wide as a palm, with a pattern reminiscent of ring eyes, dotted the sides of the road.

    There were clusters of berries already grown from the inflorescence, but those were not the seeds Krow was after. Wild-growing reweed had two kinds of seeds, the berries that grew from the flower-clusters, and the seedcones that grew from the stem-flowers.

    He was after the second.

    Paper made of the leaves grown from reweed berries was weak, ordinary paper. It was the reweed grown from seedcones that made high quality paper.

    Krow took out a knife and started to remove the seedcones. Each nt had only one, located in the center of the mass of sharp and ring leaves.

    He felt he was being admonished by a whole clearing of angry grandmothers while he took their seeds.

    He gathered enough to send to his trade-vault by way of auction.

    [Due to natural usage of inherent skills, you''ve gained the Subss: Forester as a Talent at First Apprentice!]

    Krow straightened. Finally!

    This was the reason he didn''t choose the subss before. Forester was a subss he could gain just from practicing the skills he already had.

    Forester had the basic skills of Stalk, Trap, Harvest, and Hunt avable to learn from a master forester, and those he could do just by taking quests.

    First Apprentice rank in Forester just gave him additional apprentice skills ''Fleet of Foot'' and ''Shaded by Boughs''.

    The effect of the first was obvious, increasing his top running and walking speed. The second gave him great stealth skills, but only when in a forest or woond.

    For a monster hunter, Forester was a great subss.

    Unlike his chosen subsses, he''d need to apprentice to a master to advance a Talent, or it would stay at First Apprentice forever.

    But that was forter.

    He finished harvesting his 100th seedcone, sending everything to auction, and started his journey anew, heading northwest and lower still on the mountain.

    He alternated jogging and walking, training both his VIT and the ''Fleet of Foot'' skill.

    At noon, he saw the towers of another town.

    Heughed wryly at the sight. "The londs sure are different."

    After nearly two weeks of seeing no civilization, he came across a vige and two towns in under two days.

    His luck had turned!

    Or, a part of him muttered acerbically, it was because he was using the road now instead of haphazardly hurtling toward a likely direction and subsequently getting lost in the wild.

    His eye twitched.

    Whatever. He got a Forester Talent out of it, a ton of materials, and the advancement of several subsses.

    His stats, apart from MND, were in their forties now.

    It was getting harder to gain stat points. The whole morning of traveling, he only got three points of VIT.

    Fleet of Foot was 25% mastered in the same timeframe, so he wasn''t so unhappy.

    Shouts reached Krow''s ears, putting him on alert.

    A mass of people at the entrance to the town hollered in argument with each other.

    He walked closer, sidled up to one of the people on the sidelines. "Is this Baaturik Town? What happened?"

    The draculkar woman grimaced. "Bluebottle Greatgnats. A swarm. This is indeed Baaturik, traveler."

    "Krow. Noisier than I expected."

    She huffed a briefugh, eyed him curiously, but then only sighed. "I am Adleri bal Adlejan. It''s an unfortunate time for you to see our beloved town, Krow. The merast and the council are debating whether to send for assistance from other ces."

    "Why is it an argument?"

    She nodded to a neighboring peak, where Krow could see several towers closer together than the usual town architecture. "Thends of the town are owned by Tegrikan Fort, and we''re supposed to send there for assistance. They''re equally as besieged, however."

    Krow made a sound of understanding. The soldiers of the Fort couldn''t help, and to ask for assistance from the outside would be a blow to the perceived strength of the Fort lord.

    He frowned. Bluebottle Greatgnats were only Common monsters.

    "Arge swarm then?"

    A draculkar nearby snorted. "More like they used all the Monstrepel on training soldiers in the woods, and have none spare."

    Krow winced in sympathy. Greatgnats attacked in masses, like locusts. Without Monstrepel to thin the swarm, even the strongest soldier would be overwhelmed by the countless poisonous stings.

    He nced to the side of the arguing leaders, to see a group of Guards grimly sttered with ichor, several being tended on the ground. The leader of the contingent looked furious, pacing like a possessive tiger around his people.

    "Do you think the Guard would hear me if I said I had some Monstrepel to spare?"

    Krow only had three full crates of Monstrepel left, and most of a fourth. The fifth, he''d given away on the road to Karukorm.

    The draculkar in hearing whipped their heads toward him.

    Adleri grabbed his arm tightly and all but dragged him to the Guard. Oh, not the Guard. She took him directly to the merast, insinuated herself between the councilors and dered, "This is Krow. He says he has Monstrepel."

    The councilors paused in their arguments to look at him.

    Up close, the ragged nature of the Guard and a number of citizens was even more pronounced.

    One of the councilors sighed. "Of course, we are thankful for any you are able to spare, but the swarm is more than a few Sachets could take."

    Krow decided. "Three and a half crates."

    The silence that fell was shocked, hopeful, suspicious.

    A couple of councilors studied him. One of them asked, her voice barely hiding the sharpness. "And have you been in the area long, Krow?"

    "I am a traveler." Hah, this backstory was really getting some work. "With a group of refugees, I was in Karukorm yesterday. The weeks before that I was in the wilds of the hignds."

    "The wilds?"

    "I was separated from the EYTC caravan I was traveling with due to a bandit attack. If the caravan passed by here, one of the wagon drivers, Charakh, who is distant nephew to Docent Ordoi of the Nyurajke Temple of Tnweth, would remember me."

    "The docent in Nyurajke is correctly called Ordoi," stated one of the councilors.

    "A caravan did pass here a seven-day ago, sponsored by thatpany," sighed another.

    "Not enough," said one firmly.

    The merast, silver-haired, and quietly studying Krow with gentle eyes, spoke. "And what is your price?"

    A person who would go straight to the point, excellent.

    "The chance to purchase a Galedrifter." Krow actually nned to buy passage only, but since providence tossed this chance at him, what kind of gamer would he be if he didn''t take advantage.

    "Impossible!" came from multiple throats.

    "And a Contract that I or any who work for me won''t seek to breed it," he continued.

    That addition silenced most of the objectors.

    "Just the chance to purchase?" the merast asked.

    "One would be worth more than thrice the Monstrepel I have now," Krowughed. "I do want to help, after all."

    And this town was the only town where he could make this kind of deal.

    A Galedrifter was a domesticated monster, native to the draculkar londs. In the wild, they were called Windde Runners. With wings spread, they looked like manta rays, if rays had narrower and longer wings, and scaly legs.

    They were used as flying transport all over the draculkar nation.

    Only in Baaturik though, in the upper londs, were they bred and raised.

    After the Quake, the secret breeding methods were disseminated to various guilds and towns. Gojo had once bitterly said, upon seeing them used as beasts of burden, that the monster used to be an exclusive draculkar-bred mount.

    "I won''t be requiring it now, of course. But within the next year or two, definitely. Would this request be possible? I will pay in advance."

    The councilors looked at each other. Then they all turned to someone in the crowd, who hade forward when hearing their discussion.

    An elderly draculkar eyed Krow, who tried to project his best reliable aura.

    The elder sighed, nodded.

    It was a good deal.

    Krow gave the crates to the Guards nearby as soon as they agreed. From the surprise on their faces, the councilors expected him to haggle the Contract first.

    The merast, with a smile at the promptness of Krow''s actions, brought out parchment and ink. He wrote the Contract himself.

    The terms were simple.

    The Galedrifters Association of Baaturik would sell s Krow one juvenile Galedrifter of the best quality for 540 drax.

    He was not allowed to breed it. He was not allowed to let others breed it unless it was required in the town of Baaturik, for which he would be paid 15 drax for every breeding attempt sessful or unsessful.

    He was not allowed to dissect it. If deceased, the body would be returned to Baaturik for burial.

    The Galedrifters Association of Baaturik had first refusal should he want to sell it.

    If the Galedrifters Association of Baaturik broke the agreement, they would be fined 1000 drax and be forced to surrender a Galedrifter of simr attributes to s Krow.

    If s Krow broke the agreement, he would be fined 1000 drax and be forced to surrender the Galedrifter he bought to the Galedrifters Association of Baaturik.

    The Contract was valid from now, the twenty-fourth day of the seventh circling of the 9116th year after the Shattering, to thest day of the 9118st year AS.

    If the Contract was unfulfilled after thest day of the year 9118 AS, all terms of agreement would be rendered null and void.

    The end of the contract was well past the timeline of the Quake.

    It didn''t matter, as Krow would take the ''Lost Tigercat'' quest in Galbrane City as soon as he could. It had been one of the rmended list of quests for a beginner yer, thest time. It gave the yer the ability to tame monsters that weren''t ssified as battle-mounts.

    He secured his copy of the Contract with a smile. It had been signed by the elderly draculkar who was the leader of the Galedrifter''s Association and witnessed by the merast and the council.

    A flying mount!

    Of the known mounts in the game, just 10% were capable of flight.

    A Galedrifter wasn''t very fast,pared to most flying mounts, but who cared?

    It was still a mount that could fly, and he''d gotten it with a significant discount!

    Hiding a grin, he waded into the fray with the Guards, falling into formation to protect their nk as the Greatgnats swarmed upon seeing them enter the town.

    Things were going great!

 Chapter 65 - [Bonus ] 14 Days And 14 Nights (14 Of 14)

    <em>Day 14 (in-game)</em>

    <em>Baaturik Town, The Southwestern Londs</em>

    <em>Status: finally, seriously, right now, heading out to Cerkanst</em>

    *

    After Krow''s assistance with the defense of Baaturik, the merast and council were more than willing to ferry him to Cerkanst the day after.

    Like in Karukorm, he was given a room in the First Tower.

    He had some suspicion though, that unlike the council of Karukorm, who gave him the room as an honor to the person who brought their merast''s n member back, the council of Baaturik gave him a room in the administrative tower so they could have the guards keep an eye on him.

    Krow didn''t me them.

    A near-cmity happened, and then a stranger popped up promptly to offer the very solution?

    Hah.

    Luck like that did not fall out of the sky.

    He yawned.

    If he was scheming against the town, he would''ve arrivedter, when they were more desperate. They would''ve been willing to give him a Galedrifter outright, if he''d done that.

    That logic, coupled with his willingness to fight, was likely the reason he hadn''t found armed sentinels posted outside his door.

    Krow stretched his limbs as he followed his guide through the streets brightening by the rising of the warm summer sun.

    It had snowedst night, the first snow of Grandcentral City this winter.

    He was d to feel sun on his skin after waking at two a.m. realworld time to find that it was even colder this morning than all the other mornings he had to wake up for a game-session.

    The galedrifter stables were on arge stone pir at the outer edge of the town.

    "This is Jarchiar," the council clerk Arkhai, who''d osted Krow when he was not five steps out of his room, introduced the draculkar waiting for them at the base of the pir.

    Krow checked his clocks again.

    Sure enough, it was 8 a.m. in-game time.

    Or did draculkar in the londs wake up earlier than those in the hignds?

    "He is the windrider that will take you to where you need to go."

    Krow greeted his assigned pilot politely. Then asked, enthusiastically enough that it amused his two olderpanions, "What can you tell me about Galedrifters? How about your mount? How fast can it fly?"

    The galedrifters were housed in pavilions that had tforms built over open air.

    A galedrifter with wings retracted looked very much like a massive scaly horned slug.

    "This is Zizi," Jarchiar patted the galedrifter lounging on its stable-pavilion in the morning sun. "She''s a beauty, eh?"

    Krow agreed.

    Jarchiar''s galedrifter was one of the smaller ones, five meters from horns to the tailbone, a strong contrast of ck and white in the patterns running along its back and the thick front edge of its wings.

    Zizi had already been readied for flight.

    Krow dubiously eyed the flimsy-looking seat-harness that ran down the stretch of the galedrifter''s back.

    Jarchiarughed. "The safety enchants on the flight-saddles are numerous, as with all flying mounts. Don''t worry; it will be safer and morefortable than riding a jolting carriage."

    Another good reason to prefer a winged mount, Krow thought ¨C there won''t be any bumpy roads.

    A galedrifter, ording to Jarchiar, was docile, ate insects and nts, and was easy to care for, with no excessive requirements.

    "They do need to be exercised," Jarchiar added, "but you can just let them free of the stables and they''ll fly around as much as they want. Windriders who connect well with their mounts need never fear that their ''drifters wouldn''t return."

    Oh, did he need a skill for this?

    And he forgot to factor in the windriding tack and flight training into the purchase Contract.

    Krow kicked himself mentally.

    That''s what he got for being so excited and missing the obvious.

    He couldn''t change the contract now. The head of the Galedrifters Association was reluctant enough to sell him the one.

    But it wasn''t like it was difficult to negotiate for training ¨C the Association would never allow one of their precious mounts to end up in the hands of someone who didn''t know how to care for it.

    He could deal with the oversightter.

    "I heard you were buying one of our ''drifters?" Jarchiar offered him a riding vest, sleeveless, which had also been as enchanted as the saddle.

    There were straps running around the vest, with metal rings and loops for attachment to the saddle. It looked very gothic in fashion, to Krow''s amusement.

    Not only thendscape, even the clothing in Rends had aesthetic.

    "I''ll return for it in some months," Krow admitted, putting on the offered piece of clothing. The bone-white vest actually went very well over the Travelcoat.

    Krow frowned briefly. His fashion wasn''t gothic, was it?

    No way.

    He put it out of his mind. He didn''t have fashion.

    He patted the side of the galedrifter, impressed. They weren''t feathered monsters, so the hide felt rough and leathery, despite the ck and white patterned scales.

    The scales weren''t hard and smooth like keratin and bone. They were instead rugged and flexible, thick and tough, much like Krow imagined rhino-hide would feel like.

    Jarchiar hummed thoughtfully. He didn''t say anymore, but vaulted up to the front-most seat of the saddle. He called down. "Come on, then!"

    Zizi waved its horns at him ¨C they were fleshy and flexible like the cephalic lobes of the manta ray. Unlike the ray, the horizontal slit-pupil eyes of the galedrifter were on the side of the head, not on the lobes.

    Krow more cautiously climbed up the leather strapping that circled the retracted wings.

    The seats behind Jarchiar''s were wider, cushioned leather. From the rigging of the seats, there was enough room for four people behind the front-most harness of the pilot.

    "Take these straps and attach them here, and here¡­" Jarchiar led him through the semiplicated straps. It was easy enough to memorize in one sitting.

    Despite theplicated straps, they didn''t get in the way.

    And after, Krow realized he could stand on the back of the galedrifter and walk around the saddle-tform freely. If he slipped, the straps would return him to the saddle.

    Jarchiar answered his questions patiently, as he returned to the front seat.

    "Ready?"

    Krow slid into the seat behind Jarchiar, anticipation rising. "Definitely!"

    Jarchiar took out a whistle and blew a long low note. The galedrifter slowly rose, moving so its ws gripped the edge of the pavilion, thenunched itself off the tform.

    They dropped.

    Krow''s eyes widened as they rose off their seats for a moment, suspended in air.

    Then long pale narrow wings unfurled from the galedrifter body, eleven meters of tough cartge covered in flesh and hide from tip to tip, caught the wind and lofted them upward.

    He''d only seen galedrifters from afar before, but he knew that despite the delicate looks of the creature, they were capable of carrying up to seven tonnes of weight.

    Krow waved as they lifted past the tform. "Thank you!"

    The council clerk who undoubtedly had been sent to observe him lifted a hand in response, watched them rise with some of the other windriders.

    The grand vistas of the draculkar nation spread out before them, horizon to horizon, as they ascended on a raft of air.

    The galedrifter tilted as they topped a peak and oriented northward.

    Wind ruffled Krow''s hair as he leaned over to see the spires of Baaturik and the more military-inclined embattled towers of Tegrikan Fort grow small as twigs under them.

    The safety enchants on the windrider rig lessened the sh of the high airstreams on the windriders. This pleased Krow, who had learned the hard way to keep to the leeward side of the ridges he traversed through the hignds if he didn''t want serious windburn.

    Baaturik was not yet out of sight, when the galedrifter jerked, nearly throwing Krow out of his seat.

    He grabbed a leather strap, turning to Jarchiar. The windrider was leaning the other, way frown evident. Then his eyes widened and he cursed virulently.

    Krow followed his re, to see a flock ofrge birds pping to intercept. Above them, one of the smaller ones was swinging around, obviously aggressive.

    The sudden jolt was now apparent to be the galedrifter avoiding therge hawk''s first attack.

    It nosedived, like a red and bro.

    A whistle from Jarchiar and Zizi tilted until her wings were nearly vertical. They curved an arc in the air.

    The hawk sted past them, and Krow saw the figure on the hawk''s back for the first time.

    An ambush.

    Krow drew his revolver, aimed and snapped off a shot at the hawk.

    It went wide, the speed of the hawk and the wind in alliance to thwart Krow''s intentions.

    Tsk.

    Krow aimed again, tracking slowly, the frowning while trying to mentally approximate the wind speed. Darkspears actually consumed the solid material of the bullet as it flies.

    The bullets had a range of effectiveness, that was barely enough for this encounter.

    This was where he''d need a rifle.

    The darkspear was close enough to ruffle the hawk''s feathers this time, but still a massive miss.

    Should he have taken Jori''s uncle''s cousin-inw''s offer of sniper lessons?

    Probably not.

    The gleam in the cousin-inw''s eyes and the massive face-splitting grin he had when he offered said inly, there were wagers in ce.

    But shkav, he regretted not taking the lessons now.

    His third darkspear clipped a flight feather and the hawk pped frantically, nting out of its circling path.

    Zizi pitched again.

    The other birds, eight in all, had caught up to them.

    One of them had a banner on its chest, emzoned with a circr design.

    How many flying mounts were in the draculkar nation, precisely?

    "Jarchiar? That symbol?"

    "House of Kuzhukai," the windrider called back. "Of Urvasid Keep!"

    A dispute between lords then.

    "It''s us or them, right?"

    Jarchiar nced back at him. "I don''t think they''ll stop! Urvasid Keep is our major rival for sky-transport contracts."

    "Aren''t those battle-mounts?"

    Jarchiar shook his head. "Redbreasted Hawks! They''re bred from the Redmaned Eagle, the battle-mount."

    Krow aimed at the nearest hawk.

    He shot two darkspears.

    They missed, but one of them clipped a hawk behind the leader, and it spiraled downward.

    Seven more.

    Zizi banked to evade a charge.

    Krow could see thatpared to the hawks, Zizi was slow, her movements graceful but less maneuverable.

    A galedrifter was more dependent on the wind currents than any bird monster, unable to bank as fast or as tightly.

    But Jarchiar had positioned them against the wind.

    They rose.

    They had more advantages in the higher altitudes, where the hawks shorter wings would struggle to hold them aloft in the less dense air, where the cold would freeze feathers.

    But right now, they were vulnerable.

    Krow moved to the tail end of the seat-harness, where the galedrifter wings, narrow as they were, didn''t obstruct his sightlines as much.

    He aimed.

    If he couldn''t be precise, then he''d just give them more bullets. All the bullets!

    Swap cylinders, then start again.

    Conserving ammunition? <em>Hah!</em> What even was that concept?!

    Reload again!

    More bullets!

    He stopped to refill his cylinders.

    "Jarchiar!"

    "We''re on the high skyroads now!" Jarchiar yelled back. "They won''t be following long!"

    Krow smiled when he saw that the hawks were keeping their distance. Embarrassingly, of the eight, five were still flying.

    Ugh.

    He really needed to work on his uracy.

    Most of his battles had been closer range than this, and didn''t need precision so much.

    Even the wind problem was fine when he was fighting lichenyaks, because they were so close he barely needed to aim.

    The hawks made a charge, rising high to swoop downward in tight formation.

    Krow sent a hail of darkspears at them, and one hawk broke rank to m into a second.

    The rest evaded, and the formation fell back, lower.

    He could almost feel their riders'' frustration.

    There was no chance now of attack. The galedrifter soared too high.

    Krow dropped onto his seat, started refilling the emptied cylinders.

    Jarchiar turned to watch him. After a long moment, he asked, "How long have you had that gun?"

    Krow sighed. He knew already, alright?!

    "How long before we get there?"

    Jarchiar chuckled, but allowed Krow to change the subject. "Couple hours, but you won''t mind if we circle back to Baaturik first?"

    "It''s fine."

    Of course Jarchiar needed to report the attack. And if the attackers were so close, it was imperative to be done sooner.

    At least now the suspicions of Krow orchestrating the Greatgnat attack would be put to rest.

    It was mid-afternoon before they lofted again, joined by three other galedrifters with fullplements of archers.

    There were even two taking up the seats on Zizi''s harness.

    The journey this time was smooth and calm, though two of the galedrifters broke off and started circling the area of the attack.

    A signal went up, a long ribbon of red, and thest of the three joined in.

    Zizi went on alone.

    The archers and Jarchiar were good-natured enough to engage with Krow''s incessant questions, mostly about thendscape they passed by, flying and flying mounts, and asking for stories they knew.

    Before he knew it, Jarchiar was circling in a long slow path across the sky, calling back. "Where''s that map of yours again?"

    Krow handed him the piece of paper, with Cerkanst marked on it.

    "Thought so."

    "What?"

    Jarchiar took out a piece of coal and marked the map. He handed it back to Krow.

    "We''re heading down now. Right there." He tapped the mark on the map. "Nearest ce we cannd."

    "Are you staying the night?"

    Jarchiar shook his head. "Clear night. As long as Enilhadrad shines, it''s no hardship flying at nightfall. We have to get back, in any case. They''ll be needing Zizi there, no doubt."

    Krow nodded.

    Zizinded with a graceful swoop, slowly retracting her wings. Oh, they could actually p.

    The tall pir shended on swayed a little, before settling.

    Krow leaned over to look at the unstable rock formation.

    There was really no other ce nearby?

    He jumped off quickly, before the pir decided that a galedrifter was more than it could bear.

    With shouts goodbye ringing in the air, Ziziunched off again.

    Krow adjusted his weight on the rock pir.

    On a swaying lonely spire of crumbling stone, Krow watched galedrifter wings catch the evening moonlight, looking like a pale crescent shed against the darkening sky.

 Chapter 66 - Cerkanst Is Not A Town?!

    <em>Cerkanst</em>

    <em>26th Day, 7th Circling, 9116 AS</em>

    *

    Most of Krow''s ns for his Rends monster hunter career were broad strokes, with few specifics.

    With the amount of differences between game and Zushkenar, he didn''t want toe across a variance that would derail some meticulous scheme.

    He didn''t have the patience to deal in meticulous schemes, anyway.

    And yet, in the morning sun after fourteen days and nights of slogging through the wilds and wonders of the draculkar kingdom, he keenly felt even the broadest of broad strokes take astugh before breaking into sad pieces and crumbling into nothing.

    Because Cerkanst.

    Was <em>not</em>.

    <em>A town.</em>

    It wasn''t even arge vige.

    Krowughed at himself, just outside the lower gate of that less than impressive vige.

    He''d nned almost everything with general objectives, except this one.

    Somehow, Cerkanst had gotten into his blindspot.

    He stumbled to the side of the road, slumped onto a mossy rock, face nk,ughter dried up as quickly as it started.

    Why had he been certain that Cerkanst was a town?

    He lifted his head to the sky, eyes flickering as if to search the blue expanse for an answer.

    A vague memory suddenly became clear.

    Krow chuckled, the sound almost a barking, hoarse and ugly.

    Findrakon.

    The guildleader of Findrakon hadmented from time to time, that the town the guild had taken over was not as resource-rich as Cerkanst, not as fortunately located, not as prosperous.

    That was the reason?

    That was it?

    Weeping graves.

    How long was the shadow of that guild going to haunt him? How deep had the ws of that experience sunk into him?

    Just for the chance of outssing that mudcrawling bastard, Krow had made thisrge a mistake.

    He giggled into his hands, furious and amused, despairing and enraged.

    "Excuse me," a voice asked timidly. "Are you okay?"

    Krow calmed himself down, took ten deep breaths before looking up.

    A teenaged draculkar girl stood some ways away, carrying a woven basket that seemed taller than she was. It was filled with¡­Tasseline Verdant Herb?

    Whoa.

    That grew here?

    Krow lifted a hand, waved away the concern on her face. "Just a little lost, that''s all. What is the name of this vige?"

    "This is Cerkanst. I bid you wee, traveler."

    It was really Cerkanst.

    The girl was smiling.

    Like she didn''t just crush thest of his hopes.

    The urge to guffaw hysterically rose in his throat; he shoved it down with all the force he had.

    "Cerkanst. That''s a good name." He stood. "My name''s Krow. Does this ce have a visiting-house?"

    "I am Menrike. Well met, Krow." Her smile fell into a doubtful twist after the introduction. "Most whoe here stay in the guest quarters of the First Tower."

    "Sounds fancy."

    "Not a lot of peoplee by, so there''s plenty of space."

    "Looks like it." He took another deep breath, smiled his best at Menrike. "So, guest quarters? Who do I have to speak to?"

    "That would be Sarnaan, who keeps the tower. I''ll introduce you!"

    He fell into step beside her, taking the massive basket from her silently. She made to protest, but he only hitched the basket of herbs higher on his shoulder and increased his pace toward the towers. It was lighter than it looked.

    "I am not a delicate maiden," she stomped faster to catch up with his pace. She poked her walking stick into his arm, emphasizing her words. "That needs help. With a single. Basket!"

    Amused, he nced at her narrowed eyes, furrowed brow, the timidity of her first words to him entirely disappeared. He put down the basket.

    "But aren''t you d for the minute''s rest you had from me carrying it this far?"

    Her scoff was high-pitched with added irritation at his only slightly apologetic grin. She hefted the basket and strode on without looking at him.

    "It''s the big one," she yelled over her shoulder. "You can''t be so stupid as to miss it!"

    Heughed. "I hope not!"

    She halted like she was going to say something obviously scathing, but in the end only narrowed his eyes at him and stomped off.

    Ahaha. It seemed he''d lost his guide.

    A flutter of wings brought his eyes to the vid-eye owl in the trees.

    He''d never returned it to his inventory.

    Mostly because he forgot it existed until he had to edit a video.

    Did that mean his small breakdown earlier was recorded in three angles, lossless multichannel, and ultrahigh-definition?

    Ugh.

    The owl better brush off its delete functions.

    Or Krow would give in to the childish urge to twist the voyeur bird''s head off.

    Walking through Cerkanst, the vige, was a revtion.

    It appeared that the advancement of Cerkanst was as much from the efforts of the guild that took it over as its location in a fortunate area.

    Below the vige stood a vista of tree-covered mountains and hills stretching to the horizon, the edge of the Grandshield Forest.

    He looked away.

    Last he knew from Zushkenar gossip, Cerkanst had twelve towers. This reality was very different.

    This vige had only three.

    An isted vige, small and uninteresting.

    Oh well, not entirely uninteresting.

    It was pretty.

    The same as every vige in Rends, probably.

    The entire vige stood on a rock formation jutting out from a cliff, with a winding road precariously carved toward its single sloping side. On the sides that did not slope, a steep drop fell long enough to be impressive before it covered its shadowed feet in mist.

    A waterfall cracked the rock formation, and vigers had built a waterwheel there. The falling water also separated the three main towers of the vige from what appeared to be a ruin.

    Krow stopped, paled a little.

    If he were to remain here, gaining any significant traction for after the Quake meant he''d have to <em>buy</em> the vige.

    And then develop it into a town himself.

    Something which, in the time before, took the strength of more than one guild to do.

    Crafter guilds only started popping up after the craft upgrade/expansion, as subsidiaries to the battle guilds. The guild that held Cerkanst likely was the same. Being a subsidiary meant they had a sure market for their wares and a source of armed strength at the same time.

    Krow had none of that.

    He stepped away from the drop and headed toward the First Tower. It was, as Menrike said, the biggest.

    From the ruin, it was evident that the vige used to berger, with at least five towers.

    The ruin was old, however.

    The glory days were in the far past.

    He walked into the high-ceilinged entry hall of the vige''s administrative hub. The feeling of antique degradation was evident here too.

    The First Tower was also old, with something extra, a hint of the ancient dignity he''d felt radiating grandly from Nyurajke''s preeminent spire, a stately air that could be seen from afar.

    This tower, however, hadn''t fared as well as that tower.

    "Fair morning to you, stranger, what brings you to this lonely vige?"

    Lonely?

    That was true.

    The empty streets, the toorge First Tower, the ruins ¨C there was something forlorn about the vige.

    The speaker must be Sarnaan.

    Krow greeted her. "I was told I could find a room here, as there''s no visiting-house."

    "A traveler? Be wee to Cerkanst! This is indeed where you get a room. I am Sarnaan bal Galfrevan, and I''ll take you there."

    "Thank you. I''m Krow."

    She retrieved a few things from a desk they passed through and led the way up the stairs. "Will you be staying long, Krow? The waterfall gardens are always a popr treat with those whoe to visit."

    "A few days. Then we''ll see."

    She took him to the third level. If it kept to the standardyout, then these would be the barracks of the council guards. "There are a lot of rooms."

    She agreed. "We used to trade a lot of herbs, ording to grandmother. This was where the merchantsing to secure a connection stayed. But of course, that was before the windcats."

    Krow turned inquisitively. "Windcats."

    "An old myth in the vige." She cleared her throat. "One day, an herb-grower, tending to her fields, heard a cry of distress. She followed it, for it was beautiful, and she had children who cried with less despair. She found a kitten, with a cloak of wind and eyes the color of the stormy seas, and knew it for an ancient enemy. It cried, a lovely sound, and her heart was soft, for it was but a child and distraught. She brought it home to raise, that one day it might guard her fields and children.

    "But the kitten had a tribe. Angered by their loss, they gathered and came for retribution. Blowing down the towers and the grain, the fields and the children, they came with storm and song." She gestured out the balcony toward the ruins. "They cursed the vige in beautiful harmonies, and since then no herbs grew in the soils of Cerkanst and the children were lost evermore."

    Sarnaan turned to Krow, smiling. "The story of Cerkanst as told by grandmother. What do you think?"

    "Interesting."

    Vague ideas started to churn in the back of his mind.

    Sheughed. "I still can''t get her to tell me the real story. Everytime I ask, she says I know nothing, and retells it."

    "Oh?"

    "She says she remembers when the vige was whole, so if the story ever happened, it would be less than 400 years ago." She shook her head. "Windcats haven''t been seen in the londs for thousands of years."

    "That is a shame. I''d like to see one."

    He''d seen one.

    He''d seen many.

    Windcats were a popr pet in a future update. They did have ephemeral wings of wind and silver-green eyes. But they were the size of the average housecat, and didn''t sing. They didn''t even fly.

    The vige was destroyed by those fluffy-tailed things?

    They had purely defensive skills, and even a hundred of them pawing cutely at a tower could not topple it.

    But there was a simr monster that could be said as ancient.

    It wasn''t from the draculkar nation though, but from the Stormfell Isles.

    The Stormsea Lion, which had a mane of poisonous mist and grey-blue eyes, with the ability to create lightning storms. Their wind attacks whistled in the air, which if they attacked together could harmonize and be heard as singing, plus they were asrge as rhinoceroses.

    They didn''t migrate though, or travel far from the sea.

    But there could be a hundred reasons why a pack of Stormsea Lions would be in the draculkar londs.

    If it even was a Stormsea Lion attack.

    But to destroy half a vige? A single Lion was more believable than a horde of aggressive windcats.

    "I think we''ll never know." Sarnaan handed him a key. "Just return it when you leave. Have a good day, traveler."

    "And you too. Ah, wait! What''s the name of the nearest town?"

    "It''s Rakaens! Up the mountains to the northeast." She smiled as she turned the corner.

    Krow turned over the cylindrical key in his palm.

    It was in two parts, one that allowed him entry past the security of the tower, and then the one that allowed him ess to his room.

    Hah. It was the first time he''d ever been handed a key to a First Tower without first doing a goodwill quest of some kind.

    He opened the room.

    It was simple, a bed and bedside drawers, the ubiquitous draculkar balcony, and a small bathroom.

    He checked the Map.

    Rakaens was sixty-five kilometers away.

    That was ten to fifteen in-game hours by cart. Running the whole way, he''d get there in four to six hours, rest stops included.

    He groaned, flopped onto the bed, and logged out of the game.

    There were things he needed to check.

 Chapter 67 - You Cannot Trade In A Village

    <em>Greatcentral City</em>

    <em>4 a.m. Sunday, November 13, 2095</em>

    *

    ''You cannot trade in a Vige.''

    That was the main difference between the designations of town and vige in Zushkenar.

    A vige cannot convene a market.

    It was true for the races Eli knew best, except the sirens who gleefully flouted convention anyway. Also, their floating cities were a secret, so they traded from small floating viges. Or did they call those ''towns''?

    But human, vargvir, and draculkar kept the distinction.

    The exchange between caravans in Gremut was only technically legal, allowed because the vige wasn''t gaining taxes from it.

    But more significantly in Rends, it also meant there were no shops that had an Orddet''s terminal, and therefore not a part of the Orddet''s transportwork.

    He''d have to pay more to get things delivered.

    Bundled in a thick puffy fur-lined parka, with a nket over his legs, Eli browsed the craftmaster forums.

    The craftmasters had great stakes in trade, or they won''t advance in their craft.

    They should know a bit more about the economic and social world of Rends than battlers.

    So far, he''d found that the differences between town and vige were pretty much universal in the game.

    Then there was the fact that apart from not having markets, viges didn''t have banks, tradepany branches, and temples.

    Not having temples meant not having hospitals, libraries, and contract negotiators.

    Oh, and protection. The draculkar nation Civil Guards were pretty much adherents to Dagad of Destruction, deity of protection whose symbol was a winged silver snake. The snake was even on the Guard emblem.

    The administration of a vige was elected, generally to judge disputes. In draculkar terms, that meant the oldest that wasn''t infirm headed the vige, being the wisest.

    The administration was informal, however, and the elected leaders could be changed at any time if the vige was under the umbre of a town or estate.

    Or if a vige was taken over by a guildn.

    If he remembered correctly, a guildn was designed in the Rends social rankings to be halfway between mercenary soldierpany and noble family. Joining a guildn afforded every member this social status, especially if they failed the registration rolls to be a noble.

    If wielded right, that status meant more tolerance from the upper ss, and more respect from themoners. Some guilds in Zushkenar had indeed wielded that small influence, and became warlords.

    Social status.

    That was the reason for the connected name, instead of just calling it a guild or a n.

    A guildn warleader could create towns for their guild, if they wanted, if they could afford it.

    The chartering of a town in Craftmasters was a right only given to the leaders of nations.

    Eli frowned.

    A headache was forming behind his eyes.

    There were conflicting reports on whether or not a noble could build a town.

    They couldn''t?

    Nobles and castle-lords in Zushkenar had castle towns, after all.

    A few hours digging through dross and convoluted y-strategies, plus cross-referencing with the battlers forums and the official data, he got the answer.

    He sat back with a disgruntled expression.

    Apparently nobility was different for different races.

    He didn''t know that.

    Hisst life had been amoner, alright? When would he need to know noble ranks in the nine races?

    Commoner of knightly ancestry, to be precise, but that hadn''t helped anything, had it.

    Actually, he''d been allowed to own forestnd because of it, but he hadn''t a chance to take advantage of that privilege before he returned to the past.

    If it was just Craftmasters, he could divide social sses into royal-noblemoner-outcast. But the Masters of War expansion revamped the social ranking system and the creation of lords among the yers.

    It was now moreplicated, with actual named ranks instead of just social levels.

    Craftmasters could quest for noble status when thends they held reached a certain area limit, or if they gained control of a castle manor.

    Warmasters had the ability to gain noble status at ''birth'', winning the rank from the registration process. The ability to quest for noble status was removed.

    From the forums of hisst life though, the title ''castle-lord'' could be acquired with control of castles, keeps, and forts.

    It was currently listed as a noble title in human, vargvir, draculkar, and mafmet races.

    In the human-led territories, the castle-lords ranked above barons and knights.

    Actually, in the dwarvir race, the equivalent of castle-lord was baron ¨C because all their nobles held strongholds. The dwarviran guildns who won control of castles were ennobled.

    Eli blinked, took his sses off and massaged the edges of his eyes.

    What.

    He just wanted to know how towns were built in Rends!

    When did it get to the minutiae of different races'' noble ranks?

    For that matter, where was the draculkar version?

    "I need a break."

    He threw his sses back on and stood, stretched the kinks out.

    nced at the clock, grimaced.

    It was eight in the morning, on a Sunday.

    His aunt didn''t require him to go to Sunday mass with her, but what kind of great-nephew would he be, to not apany her for just one hour sitting in a church?

    Eli regretted still, that he hadn''t visited her in the years before she died.

    He''d been given this chance to make it up. This life wasn''t going to pass like thest time.

    Frost clung to the ss panes, sparkling as he drew the curtains. The weak sun was out this morning, which meant his aunt would take the morning mass, and not the afternoon or evening ones.

    Eli turned, only to stumble on the edge of a chair. Gah! He red at the furniture.

    Why was it that he <em>still</em> hadn''t limated to theyout of the apartment?

    Onest surly look at the offending chair, he headed to the bathroom.

    The second morning mass started at 9 a.m.

    He divested himself of clothing and entered the shower.

    Warm water cascaded down his body, soothing.

    He stood there, head bowed against the pressure of the water.

    Was he really thinking of staying in Cerkanst?

    No.

    Location aside, he didn''t have the resources and manpower of a whole guild.

    A thin smile nted over his face.

    Or was this the universe telling him he should make his own guildn?

    Ha.

    Haha.

 Chapter 68 - A Second Look

    There were two ways to upgrade a vige into a town.

    Two ways that would work for the draculkar nation in Rends anyway.

    The first is to apply for a charter from the Cyzar, once the wealth of the vige grows and can pay the base trade taxes and the survey of territory that would be townnd.

    The second was for a noble to acquire the territory the vige was in and then grant ''town rights'' to the vige.

    In human and mafmet territories, a vige can buy a town charter for themselves. Unfortunately, the government of the draculkar Cyzar didn''t allow that.

    Krow was currently surveying the vige.

    Acquiring a territory in Rends cost hundreds of thousands of drax. Millions, to maximize the developments and upgrades.

    Could he bear the cost?

    There were three draculkar towns that were as close to the border of the Forest as Cerkanst.

    Krow could start his journey in one of them, easily.

    But not one of the said towns had the sheer potential of Cerkanst for monster hunting.

    They didn''t excite Krow as much as this ce did.

    But he would rather enter Zushkenar with less money and security than he expected, fully entrenched and influential in another town, than stick to Cerkanst and enter Zushkenar with the responsibility of a weak town on his shoulders, not having grasped its full potential.

    So he was searching for a reason.

    What would make Cerkanst worth it for him to hitch everything on the future of the vige, when it would take from him enough blood and sweat to paint half the sky red before it would be ready for the Quake?

    Location was not quite enough.

    He needed a product.

    Tasseline Verdant Herbs were Rare, but sold at just 3 silver serpens per bundle on the Bourse.

    Not enough.

    The tradition of herb-growers though, that backstory had some potential. Still not enough.

    He left the vige proper and traveled the surroundingnd.

    Rainbow Rattler Snake. No.

    Triceratop Forest Rat. No.

    Jaderocktail Watersnake. Huh. No. That tail was more ''rock'' than ''jade''.

    Otherwise, the jade would sell at 4 serpens per kilo of pebbles. How many snakes was that? Maybe twenty or so, to gain a full kilogram.

    ssmouth Mole. No.

    Wait.

    Mole Quartz.

    This was the source of mole quartz, right?

    He took out the Tradebook, did a search. Mole quartz was Umon.

    C-quality mole quartz, 1 serpens per kilogram. Used in Good Leather Armor Polish, 7 serpens per fourth-jar. Profit: 4 serpens per jar.

    B-quality mole quartz, 2 serpens per kilogram. Used in Good Metal Armor Polish, 12 serpens per fourth-jar. Profit: 6 serpens per jar.

    A-quality mole quartz, 5 serpens per kilogram. Used in Supetive Armor Polish, 56 serpens per fourth-jar. Profit 27 serpens per jar.

    These were current prices.

    A fourth-jar meant a quarter-litre of volume or 250ml.

    Assuming a cuirass, vambraces, and greaves, a fourth-jar would be used up in a week.

    Armor polish increased the Durability of armor items by 50% . The rmended application was every three days. It maintained an increased Durability of 50% on the first day, 30% on the second day, and 15% on the third day.

    A consumable item, relevant to the current climate.

    An item only likely to grow in relevance in theing months.

    Wasn''t it fortunate that he, who was a leatherworker in another life, knew the form for Leather Armor Polish?

    As of now, only craftmasters and NPCs sold armor polish.

    One kilo of C-grade mole quartz to create three litres of Good Leather Armor polish.

    A single ssmouth Mole could produce 5-7 kilos of mole quartz.

    There was also a more specialized recipe. One kilo of B-grade mole quartz to create four litres of Superior Leather Armor polish.

    Krow tilted his head, surveyed the area, the holes in the mountain, the traces of clear rime on the lower leaves of certain nts. He knelt on the ground, reached to pick up the ''rime''.

    It was hard, like stone.

    ssmouth mole saliva, his mind supplied the information.

    Hardened in contact with certain solutions.

    Krow lifted the thick thorned leaves of the sulent, to see the pale red underside.

    Like the sap of the Hidden Dawn Watermaguey nt.

    He stood.

    The leafde was as long as he was tall, tapering to a sharp spike at the top, and as wider at the base than he was. The edges of the sulent leaf des had curved thorns at regr intervals.

    Waermaguey wasmon in the wends.

    The fibers were used to make rope, twine, and sacks.

    Far above, to his right, were the cliff pirs that Cerkanst was built on.

    Was this enough?

    No.

    But just within ten kilometers of the vige, he''d found three monsters with fair earning potential and one that he could earn good profit from.

    And a nt with fair potential.

    In the sixty-five kilometer radius between Cerkanst and the nearest town of Rakaens, how many monsters were there that he could list in the ''good to excellent profit'' column?

    Not to mention going deeper into the Forest?

    If he could find just three more before the craft upgrade¡­.

    He calcted, head tilted, fingers drumming on his thigh.

    It would be enough to buy the vige and some of the surroundingnd.

    But not much else.

    Cerkanst was a hub of the monster material trade.

    This was true.

    Everbud Fern, Untoxic Smander, Amethyst Turtle, Bellear Wolf, Swordhorned Elk, Greatrose Eagle.

    Umons, Rares. Superior materials.

    But all that material had lesser value now, than after the craft update.

    Seven months.

    June of 2096.

    The craft upgrade would change the way Rends was yed.

    Would he make it?

    Judicious scouting and questions earlier told him that there were 300 people in the vige, 37 families.

    A quarter of the families farmed grain, another quarter grew herbs, and the rest were divided among various professions.

    The vige had a general merchandise shop, a tavern, a crafting shop, and a cksmith.

    The crafting shop was only there because of the herbs that the vigers grew, it sold mostly paper and books, with several shelves of potion-making paraphernalia.

    Also, with the herbgrowers, there were likely to be hidden apothecaries.

    Could he work with that much, for a start?

    Krow took a deep breath, mind going through, once again, the list of what was needed for a town.

    Could he?

    Krow smiled.

    He was willing to make a wager.

 Chapter 69 - Slaughter Is The Way (1)

    How do you upgrade a vige into a town?

    First, have a vige.

    Hah.

    Second, be a noble. Or be favored by a king.

    If thetter, how lucky! Simply ask the king for a town charter.

    If not in the favor of a king, like the very plebian Krow, hope that you have a good registration roll or go and quest for a castle.

    If you want a castle, good luck! Hope you can survive a raid at your level (lol).

    Third, have a ton of money.

    Oh, too bad. He was broke.

    Why, it''s easy to fix that: ughter is the only way!

    So simple! Just carve a bloody path through million and a half monsters that spit acid into your eyes, bite through your clothes, and put you in a constant state of being minorly poisoned!

    Krow sulked in his mentalmentary as he waded through a mass of dead Tasseline Verdant Serpents.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Tasseline Verdant Snakeskin!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Tasseline Verdant Snakeskin!]

    [You''ve butchered 1000 monsters!]

    [Congrattions! You''ve acquired the Butcherer Badge!]

    A Badge?

    His mood improved suddenly.

    A Badge!

    He''d gotten a Bronze Soldier Badge in hisst life for eliminating a hundred and one bandits in total. The increase in stats helped so much.

    When he hadn''t gotten any for killing hundreds of monsters, he thought the feature hadn''t been implemented yet.

    Did that mean there wasn''t one for hunting?

    Tsk.

    [Butcherer Badge]

    [The smell of raw meat lingers around you.]

    [Effects: 10% more meat from butchering. 10% sharper knives. 1% added chance of acquiring higher graded items from a carcass.]

    Ah? No stats?

    Krow deted.

    Then subss Badges were only useful for the craft.

    Too bad.

    He could do with a boost to his stats.

    Even in the outer edges of the Forest, the monsters were stronger than those of simr levels he''d encountered before. It meant more XP, but it also meant more bullets.

    The clearing around him was full of dead snakes.

    Just how many snake nests were around Cerkanst?! This was the fourteenth daily quest that dealt with the Serpents encroaching on the herb fields.

    Eight Tasseline Verdant Serpent monster nests eliminated already. What were the odds that he got the same quest tomorrow? Krow snorted to himself. High odds, no bet.

    He tossed the badge into his Inventory.

    [You''ve acquired your first Badge, and unlocked the Achievement Collection Page of the Inventory!]

    Once, long ago, that notification had excited him.

    Collecting old coins had been a hobby, a reminder of his father, who had owned the collection before.

    Once, he''d dreamed of joining the whole mass of people posting their Achievement Collections on the forums, showing off their prowess.

    But after so long with only a single badge to show, when people always said it was easy to get their first ten Badges, every time he saw the page, he only felt it was mocking him.

    Now, as a monster hunter, he likely won''t gain so many badges as the battlers. So what was the point inpeting?

    He looked at the single badge in his Collection.

    A thousand monsters butchered.

    His first achievement badge in Rends.

    It was still a bit uplifting.

    He smiled, turned back to work. The smile turned into a grimace.

    The hometown quests involved getting acquainted with the prominent people in a vige. That meant taking the daily quests from them ten times.

    Usually thatsted four to six days.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Reptile Mane Tassels!]

    Since Krow went beyond the bounds of the request to eliminate monster nests, rather than just the monsters required, it had taken him longer than thest time.

    Weeping skies, but he hadn''t had multiple people send him on the same quest before.

    It saved time, but still.

    If he never had to see one Tasseline Verdant Serpent again, he''d be very content with his life.

    Who told these things to breed so many in one nest?!

    A long sliding sound in the herbs jolted him out of his standardining session. He whirled, butcher knife tossed from his dominant hand to his left and brandished defensively, as his right then continued down to draw his revolver.

    How many times in these days had he been ambushed after that particr sound?

    A silver marked head rose above the tops of the herb bushes, diamond shaped, with a long neck following after.

    [You''ve been challenged to battle!][Silverstripe Tasseline Serpent (Anaret Gren) Lvl 15 (31)]

    [HP: 4500][MP: 1121]

    What?

    Monsters can challenge?! Was his first thought, but then he had to dodge a fanged lunge, and the second name flickered in ce of the first.

    A possessed serpent.

    Lvl 31? HP 4500?!

    Shkav, someone tell him that 1121 MP could not be used by a snake to do Spells.

    Three Breeze Boomerangs sliced toward him not a momentter.

    At least give him <em>five seconds of hope</em>, damnit!

    The usual discreet bark of his revolver thundered loud in the isted quiet, echoed by the near cliffs.

    He changed cylinders, leaping upward to a ledge.

    The possessed Serpent started to sway, coils turning around each other, long body curling and swooping.

    It was a rather pretty dance.

    <em>Major Exhaustion</em>, blinked his status.

    He tore his eyes away from the snake, double-jumped higher. Five Low Revitalit removed the Exhaustion, and a Low Heal took care of the lost HP.

    The big serpent coiling up the cliff wall. How could it move up a vertical surface that easily?

    He shot a ledge out from under it, gaining a frustrated hiss as the serpent slid back down.

    Hah. He aimed, kept shooting.

    Its defenses were greater than the average monster. His shots barely dented the HP.

    Was the hypnotism a Spell from the possessed or a feature of the Serpent?

    From the dance, the ghost probably took advantage of a natural serpent skill.

    -12% HP.

    Major Poison.

    Gah!

    That was the thorn-spitting technique the smaller Verdant Serpents used on him. Just ten times more effective.

    Krow red as he jumped away, drinking potions as he went.

    What did he know of spirit possession?

    The stats would be halved. So for being Lvl 31, it was about ten levels weaker. Especially since the snake it was possessing was only Lvl 15.

    Why would it challenge?

    Obvious.

    It wanted Krow''s body.

    "I know this body is pretty nice," he called back. "But stealing it is just harsh, you know?"

    The snake/ghost answered in Breeze Boomerangs.

    He hated fighting ranged attackers!

    Why did he not have bombs?

    This fight would go better if he had bombs!

    He made a note to search for Incandescent Emerald Dracontomelons as soon as possible. The explosive fruits would be a blessing.

    The Minor Paralyzing Mist Vials had no effect on a poison user.

    He aimed, holding the stance for a long moment as the snake rapidly closed the distance between them.

    Krow gained Lvl 10 days ago already, and the skill ''Mark Critical'' was already part of his arsenal.

    It allowed him to see the weak spots in an opponents defenses. It gave him the perfect targets.

    The skill activated. The snake''s eyes glowed.

    He emptied his cylinder, aiming for the eyes, flipping above the snake to dodge another thorn-spitting attack.

    [Critical Hit!][HP:2289]

    Hsss-rraarrssss!

    One eye oozed darkly stained viscous fluids, half closed. Itshed out with its tail, against the cliffside.

    Krow slipped off the grassy ledge with a yelp.

 Chapter 70 - Slaughter Is The Way (2)

    Krow tucked in to avoid debris, then flipped andnded on the herb field.

    The tail swung again, this time for him.

    Krow triggered double-jump.

    The length of solid muscle mmed into the field, sank, crushing herbs, stones, and the very ground under it.

    "You better hope that doesn''te out of my pay."

    Hsraaahhhsssaaasss!

    "No idea what you mean." Krow aimed at the eye again. "Hiss this."

    The serpent dodged, lunged.

    Ugh.

    He nced behind, then leaped backward as he shot. Darkspear after darkspear.

    [Critical Hit!] [Critical Hit!]

    Hsrraaaahh!

    Krow misjudged the distance, his feet skipping past the ledge he''d aimed for. Tumbled over. His eyes widened as the serpent lunged again.

    Too close for the revolver to maneuver. Coils whipped around him. He bound upward, using the snake''s body as jumping point.

    It would not let him go that easily. Fangs came for him.

    -30% HP.

    Major Poison.

    Krow triggered doublejump, levered the skill to whip a leg at the snake''s head.

    The kick took the possessed serpent by surprise.

    [You have achieved 50 Points of Dexterity!]

    [The subss Ac¡­]

    He ignored the notices.

    A flick of a hand, the revolver disappeared into Inventory. He reced the weapon with the butcher''s cleaver.

    Krownded on the pile of coils, leaped to trigger doublejump again, and buried the butcher''s cleaver in the second eye as far as it could go. Critical hit.

    He used the cleaver as a lever to flip upward.

    Hsraaaaaaaahhssss!

    He pulled the cleaver out, covered in gore, put a hand on the serpent''s head. Too small tond on, but enough to gain the stability to shove the cleaver into the other eye.

    Hsrrrrgh¡­

    The snake shuddered, head lowering to rest on its coils.

    Krow straddled the neck and started shooting.

    Hss¡ªyaaahhhh¡­!

    A cloud of¡­something rose from the carcass, the hiss changing mid-sound to something like a scream before dispersing in the wind.

    [You have defeated your opponent in battle!]

    [You''ve gained two (2) Silver Serpens from a monster!]

    [You''ve gained twenty (20) Gold Drax from winning a Single Combat Challenge with an opponent ranked at least 20 levels higher than you!]

    [s Krow is the first yer to win a Single Combat Challenge with an opponent ranked at least 20 levels higher! Do you want to publish this achievement?]

    "No."

    He was stunned as the reports continued.

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Underdog Might Badge</strong> from winning a Single Combat Challenge with an opponent ranked at least 5 levels higher than you!]

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Goliath''s Bane Badge</strong> from winning a Single Combat Challenge with an opponent ranked at least 10 levels higher than you!]

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Rival to Heracles Badge</strong> from winning a Single Combat Challenge with an opponent ranked at least 20 levels higher than you!]

    [You have gained one (1) level to achieve Lvl 12!]

    And he was justmenting that hisst life never had a second badge...

    Krowughed, propped himself against therge serpent, resting.

    [You''ve gained a Silverstripe Wavy Spine from a monster!]

    That brought his collection of monster bones to four. He really should have them made into proper Ghost Stones for his Ghostcaller subss. He kept forgetting.

    He ced the bone in the inventory and took out potions to recover. Over half his HP had been sliced off, and was still ticking lower with the Major Poison debuff.

    If he hadn''t surmounted the half-century mark for DEX earlier, the fight would''ve been more difficult.

    He sighed, opened his Profile.

    *

    <strong>Name: </strong>s Krow

    <strong>Level:</strong> 12 (2%)

    <strong>Race:</strong> Draculkar

    <strong>HP:</strong> 100%

    <strong>MP:</strong> 100%

    <strong>Magic</strong><strong>Aptitude</strong>: 11

    <strong>Element:</strong> Shadow

    <strong>Battless:</strong> Sharpshooter: (Mark Critical @ 11%)(Dual Wield @ 0%)

    <strong>Crafterss:</strong> Enchanter [~Skills~]

    <strong>Subsses: </strong>

    Scout [First Apprentice]: (Eyes of an Eagle @ 33%)

    Butcher [Third Wright]: (Knife Handling @ 100%) (Meat-carving @ 55%)

    <strong> Tinkerer ::|Expand|::</strong>

    Acrobat [Third Wright]: (Rope Trickster @ 100%)(Eight-armed Juggling @ 50%)

    Tracker [First Apprentice]: (Target Marking @ 100%)

    Ghostcaller [Second Apprentice]

    <strong>Talents ::|Expand|::</strong>

    Forester [First Apprentice]: (Basic Skills: |Stalk||Hunt||Trap||Harvest|)(Fleet of Foot @ 32%)(Shaded by Boughs @ 5%)

    <strong>Main Weapon:</strong> Starfall Revolver [Lvl 9/50] [Unique] [Quality: A-]

    <strong>Stat Points:</strong> 5

    <strong>Badges:</strong> [Butcherer][Underdog Might][Goliath''s Bane][Rival to Heracles]

    *

    Fifty points of Dexterity boosted his Acrobat to Third Wright and added a skill called Dual Wield to his Sharpshooter.

    Dual-wielded revolvers?

    A grin of anticipation grew wide across his face.

    It sounded tooplicated, really. But he still wanted to start practicing as soon as possible!

    About to put all his points in VIT as he generally did, he noted that STR was 47.

    STR was faster to gain points than VIT, but¡­

    He really wanted to see what he got from 50 points of STR.

    He hesitated, then shook his head.

    Alright then! Make up for the VIT pointster!

    [You have achieved 50 Points of Strength!]

    [The skill Rifle-wielding has been added to your Sharpshooter ss due to your increase in Strength!]

    Krow lifted his brows, nonplussed.

    Wasn''t the rifle a basic weapon for the Sharpshooter ss?

    Why would he need 50 STR to use one?

    Unless the initial stat distribution and the rate of gain for the different stats of each yer changed depending on what weapon they chose? Sure, but still didn''t exin that much.

    Possibly to prevent yers from changing weapon types like they changed their clothes.

    To encourage Specialization.

    Was it that important?

    There were different basic weapons within each battless, after all. If the developers thought people wouldn''t start mastering all the weapons avable to them, they didn''t know gamers.

    If they were subtly pushing for specialization¡­

    Krow tapped fingers against the holster of his gun.

    Should he max out the levels of the Starfall Revolver before starting to level a rifle?

    That would be difficult.

    He''d need the rifle long before he achieved that. Considering the situations where he required a rifle even now, he should start leveling one soon.

    "Hello there!"

    Krow looked up. A couple of the vigers were waving at him from an upper field.

    He nced around, winced.

    This field of herbs was a lost cause.

    "Are you alright?"

    Krow straightened, waved back. "I''m fine!"

    He closed his Profile.

    A draculkar vaulted the stone stile and bounded down the steps.

    An adult, with a braided ck beard. "Are you certain you''re alright? It sounded like a difficult fight. The twins came running, saying you were fighting a Silverstripe."

    Krow nced at the upper field. He''d taken a few quests from the twelve-year old twins who kept a small goldencoat goat herd. He smiled at the two pale faces looking back.

    Ah, they were staring at therge snake.

    He turned back to the draculkar, who was now looking around in dismay.

 Chapter 71 - Slaughter Is The Way (3 Of 3)

    Krow tried not to look guilty. "Are you the owner of this field? Sorry about the mess."

    The bearded draculkar shook his head, sighed. "Don''t apologize. To survive a Silverstripe, I''d have done more than just destroy a few fields."

    But for a vige, a single field was likely the support of a whole family.

    Krow coughed. "Since I hunted on yournd, it''s good to pay a fee for the damage. Will the skin be enough? I don''t think the meat is quite¡­fresh."

    The draculkar nodded, grimacing at the corpse. "I wondered why a Silverstripe woulde out of its caves. Something wounded it, and the festering drove it mad."

    He quirked a smile at Krow. "Are you sure you want to give it away, though? Silverstripe Snakeskin, a big one like this, it''s worth at least fifteen serpens to the right buyer."

    "I already have snakeskins." Krow waved at the Tasseline Verdant Serpent carcasses in the nearby fields.

    Fifteen serpens was mid-high for an Umon monster skin. Considering the decay caused by the possession though, Krow doubted it would earn that much.

    "It''s not giving anything away. These are Bloodstripe Lavender nts, aren''t they? Considering the size of the field¡­fifteen serpens isn''t enough."

    The other chuckled, knelt at the edge of one of the herb beds. He examined a leaf. "More than enough. Half the nts are still harvestable. Hm."

    He looked up. "You are Krow, aren''t you? I am Hch. The ears of the vige are full of gossip about the pest killer who came to visit."

    "Perhaps not so short a visit. There are a lot of monsters in the area." Krow took out a knife. "I''ll just skin this for you then."

    "A hunter then?" He watched Krow''s knife slice through the flexible scales of the Silverstripe''s underside. "And a trained butcher, it looks like."

    Krow smiled. "A traveler must always be prepared."

    "Hm." Hch went back to harvesting herbs.

    Krow yed the skin of the Silverstripe from the sides of the carcass, then turned the whole thing onto its belly. It was a simple matter then, to just pull off the skin.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Silverstripe Snakeskin!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Tasseline Reptilian Mane!]

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Feldrop Fangs!]

    The fangs still had the venom sacs attached. Krow flicked it into Inventory.

    He rolled up the leathery skin, face contorting as he examined the unnatural dark veins that crawled all over the Silverstripe snake meat, especially around the head.

    Now that the carcass had been opened, the stench spread.

    The herb field owner frowned, got up and dusted off his hands. He came closer. "That''s not a normal wound."

    "No," Krow agreed. He ced the roll of skin on a rock, topped it with the tasseled Mane. "Have you ever seen anything like it?"

    "Perhaps." Hch shrugged. "Best dispose of it as soon as possible. We don''t want it in the water."

    He waved to a few more people.

    A boy bounded down the steps, two at a time. The shade of his hair was dark as that of the draculkar beside Krow. "Father!"

    "The skin has already been scraped," Hch smiled at his son. "Take it with you. Your mother will know what to do."

    "The Mane as well." Krow stated when the boy made a motion to put it aside. "It will sell too."

    It was butchered after all.

    It should have some value.

    The boy looked at his father uncertainly, and the draculkar frowned.

    "I did damage to some of the other fields," Krow pointed out. Those were minorpared to the decimation of this part of the herb fields though.

    The draculkar nodded, and his son stacked the skin and mane, almost looking like a monster himself as he left.

    The rest of the vigers hacked the corrupted corpse of the Silverstripe into pieces.

    Krow looked at the carcasses of the Tasseline Verdant Serpents.

    Only ten or so needed to be butchered.

    He left the rest to whichever viger would notice, and started tracking the Silverstripe''s path. It appeared on a lower field. The markings of its passage were distinct. Thankfully, it led away from the gathered vigers.

    The snake had already proven that it could slither up a vertical drop, so he checked the edges of the drops for signs.

    A few minutester, he was at the ruined edge of the town, past the waterfall.

    The marks continued to one of the broken towers. Therge openings of the tower base let in enough light to see. But a path of scratched stone tiles led to a stair, tunneling downward, the bottom steps in deep shadow.

    Krow brought out amp, walked past what looked like dungeons, lower still to the water drain system.

    He paused at the noises up ahead. His steps slowed and his gun lifted.

    It was just water.

    A reservoir to the old tower, still containing reserves.

    A part of the wall had broken recently and scummy water gushed out in rivulets.

    The tracks of the snake ended at the broken wall.

    Krow stowed his gun and boosted himself up the wet stones.

    The pale crumbly mortar on the broken stones spoke of the newness of the hole in the wall. The dank smell was strong. Enough that it wasn''t quite kept out by Krow''s mask.

    The light of themp yed over raw stone. The tower was built over the quarry its stone hade from. The tunnel he traversed now wasn''t a tunnel then, most likely, but a pathway up the cliffside for stoneworkers.

    He paused, swung themp here and there.

    The marks pointed out by his tracker subss were gone. He retread his route.

    A glow on the wall caught his attention.

    He looked up.

    A¡­door?

    He jumped up. The carved stone was high enough that he needed Doublejump to reach it.

    It was a door.

    A secret room in a secret tunnel.

    Alright.

    It wasn''t stone.

    He touched the side that was discolored by time and damp, rotten, where a mass of crushed splinters told him he was still on track. The carvings were on a type of wood.

    Krow raised themp. They were faint. But the door was carved with symbols of the gods.

    He lifted a brow. One half of the Zushkenari pantheon was represented.

    The Nine of Creation.

    Common enough.

    People liked to separate the Destruction and Creation deities anyway.

    Krow kicked in more of the door, widening the hole.

    He ducked in.

    From being behind such a dramatic door, the room was disappointing.

    It was small and bare. The walls were raw stone.

    There was a table and a chest in a corner.

    Krow ignored them for the moment, walking around the room. There was an airvent in one corner, overgrown with pale moss.

    There was a mass of moss on the floor under it, like a sweeper pushed it all out.

    He''d found the entrance of the Silverstripe Tasseline Serpent.

    Now, was it corrupted when it entered?

    A cagey in shadow, the light throwing dancing effigies of bars on the wall when Krow moved. He hadn''t seen it earlier, hidden behind a fall of rock.

    He brought themp closer. Stopped.

    Ha, the snake wasn''t corrupted when it entered.

    "I suppose you are Anaret Gren, Lvl 31?"

    The cage contained the corpse of a dwarvir.

    Only bone remained, even that had half-crumbled, and yet the feeling of rage and despair tinted every inch of the figure.

    Krow sighed.

    He put themp on the table.

    It tilted.

    He grabbed themp and ced it on the floor instead.

    In the warm light of themp, he kicked the cage to pieces, then started to loot the corpse.

    Krow returned to the sunshine not thirty minutester, with a set of dwarviran armor centuries old, a ring that radiated malice, and the two surviving books from the chest in the room.

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Note:

    . If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 72 - Registration (1)

    Krow stood before the First Tower of Cerkanst.

    He''d been there for over a minute.

    He was bing irritated with himself the longer he didn''t move.

    He had epted his choice fully.

    There was no reason to dy.

    He''d taken thest hometown quest and even finished the hidden quest of exorcising a ghost.

    Though, like the mothmarmot quest, he had to ask: was it normal for Hidden Quests to lunge at your face and try to eat you whole?

    How was that even ''hidden''?

    He took a breath, aware he was stalling.

    There was no reason to dy, he told himself again.

    But here, on the day he was about to register, a shadow of the disappointment he felt when first he saw the vige rose and created doubts in his heart.

    It was possible to change a hometown registration.

    But only in Rends.

    In Zushkenar, a citizen''s papers could not be edited to change the birthce. Unless a half dozen people in the administration of two or more viges and towns were bribed.

    Krow let the emotions he felt wash over him.

    Then he huffed, squared his shoulders and walked in.

    Themunity registration was something unique to Rends.

    Because of the great importance of trade to the yers of the initial craft-heavy game, it was necessary to register as a member of variousmunities or stay as a rogue business.

    The intention was greater immersion into the fantasy world.

    The feature was retained in the Masters of War expansion, with its own upgrades.

    In every race it was different.

    There were rituals and tattoos for example, in the Dryad and the Trollkin viges to be part of themunity.

    In the Dwarvir viges, he heard there was singing and lots of booze.

    Thest time, as a human, he had to run around the vige, chasing NPCs and doing paperwork for a name token. He had to get his application stamped by six vige officials.

    Without the token, he couldn''t open a bank ount or interact with certain quest NPCs.

    He wasn''t sure what the draculkar registration was like. The forum said they had to give blood and y a game.

    Sarnaan grinned a greeting at him as he strode into the tower hall. "How is our snake hunter today?"

    "Wanting to register as a resident, actually."

    Sarnaan leaned back, surprised. "Here? In Cerkanst?"

    "Why not?"

    She leaned close. "You have just reached your majority?"

    "I have."

    She smiled and bowed briefly. "Congrattions on your twenty-fifth year."

    "I''m twenty-seven, in fact." He bowed back simrly. "But thank you."

    "Ah." She studied him, then nodded, motioned to follow her. "Why here, and not in arger town? Better yet, the city?"

    The hometown quests in towns and cities were slightly different, involving making acquaintance of the city or town watch, then getting them to sponsor you for registered citizenship.

    That was he''d done thest time. It required innumerous security jobs and watch missions.

    "I haven''t entered a stronghold of our people for a long time. I thought a smaller ce would be morefortable." Backstory, he knew, would only help after the Quake.

    Nomads were a source of many quests in Rends. In Zushkenar, they were looked down on bynd-owners.

    She smiled at him. "Understandable. Your guardians are joining youter?"

    Krow shook his head. "I have been alone for years now."

    Sarnaan looked stricken, and inclined her head in a show of sympathy.

    Gojo did say that draculkar rarely conceived more than three children, which meant their poption was one of the lowest in Zushkenar. "Many are lost to the distant horizon. I am sorry that they are not here for you at this time."

    "We are Kin; we heed the Call." Krow mouthed one of the many many things he heard Gojo repeat like a mantra during the years of their friendship.

    Gojo was Gomrje Ogvaander, had been one of the few draculkar contracted as a guard for the crafters of Findrakon. He exined that draculkar hoarded knowledge obsessively, and to leave the mountain cities to travel in search of it was honorable.

    Schr and Archaeologist were two of the most respected subsses a draculkar might take.

    But certain of the race also thought it was too dangerous to allow their people to run around Zushkenar because of their low numbers.

    "Mm." Sarnaan nodded in acknowledgement. But she also grasped his shoulder briefly, in condolence.

    He smiled at her. It had been years since anyone hadforted him for the death of his parents.

    She pushed aside a hanging curtain and stopped at a stone door, arge stone block on two posts. She did something with her fingers at a small panel on the wall.

    The door opened, with the noise of stone scraping against stone.

    "This is the entrance to the vault of names." She motioned to the doorway, stairs leading down into darkness. "You must go alone."

    Ominous.

    Krow studied the doorway dubiously.

    How exactly did they draw blood for this thing?

    "The n records cannot be taken out of the rooms below, of course." Sarnaan continued. "And I assure you, the ce is very protected. We are a vige close to the lond paths, after all."

    That wasn''t what concerned Krow, but he only nodded.

    "If you are in need of anything else, I will be at the front halls, as usual."

    "Thank you." He took the stairs.

    Themp above his head burst with blue light and his heart leaped to his mouth, hand shing to the gun at his hip. He heard a slight chuckle from Sarnaan before the door behind him shut with a resounding finality.

    He turned to re at the carved stone of the door, trying to calm the blood pounding through his veins.

    He walked down the stairs, the blue magemps turning on as he went.

    Then suddenly, the stair he trod on lit up with a faint green glow. He froze.

    Draculkar lived in ancient towers, rebuilding their houses again and again, so that the inner parts of a building might stand over a thousand towers.

    And in Zushkenar, you learn wariness of ancient ces.

    He crouched down slowly, eyes alert.

    Was this the draculkar registration challenge?

    There was nomp past the glowing stair, he noticed.

    He took his foot off the light-giving stair, backing away and crouching over it, turning himself nearly upside down to study it. What was the difference between it and the other stairs?

    He only just noticed the band of carved writing, when another stair glowed further down. He heard clicking in the walls, gears and mechanisms.

    Oh no.

    He leaped headfirst down the stairs, utilizing his dexterity to tumble and flip.

    One foot and one hand barely touched the second glowing stair, when he saw another glow further down.

    He twisted his body toward it, intuition born of years as a forester in Zushkenar ring warning, only just missing the slicing des as they breezed past him.

    Speed.. Draculkar were known for speed of movement.

 Chapter 73 - Registration (2)

    Speed was a function of strength and dexterity.

    Thetter more than the former, for draculkar.

    Krow tumbled and leaped from glowing stair to glowing stair, avoiding spikes, pits, pendulum des, chains, and arrows.

    Why was this a registration test?!

    If this was how they ''drew blood''....

    Whoever posted that ''guide'' to draculkar registration on the forums obviously needed to die a few times.

    Even with his STR and DEX at 50, he was far from unscathed.

    When he finally stumbled off the stairway, he had a dozen minor cuts across his skin, his Travelcoat was visibly mending the sh across the cloth of his belly, his boots were sshed with something viscous, and his hair was looking a little ragged.

    He slumped on the floor, panting.

    Now that he thought about it, the difficulty of the death-trapped stairway mustform to the challenger''s level...

    Krow felt the ache all over his body.

    The sense simtors of the neurovirtual game system dulled pain, but otherwise calcted avatar biological response to Stats and a set of data unique to each race.

    Draculkar had low VIT.

    Krow was used to feeling exhausted. He pushed himself up, popped open some potion vials, and studied the room.

    The walls were checkered tile in a number of colors, thousands upon thousands, looking like iridescent scales covering the walls.

    There was a familiar pedestal.

    He stepped forward.

    Something clicked under his boots.

    "Shkav." He leaped back, alert and nearly vibrating with tension.

    Fortunately, only a table rose from the stone floor.

    Or, more like an altar, as it looked like a single giant ck marble b carved and iid with jewels.

    On the jeweled tabletop was a board game.

    He studied the enameled gridlines and the crystal pots on each side.

    A game of weiqi-go.

    Across the table, an old draculkar appeared, in spirit form, silent.

    Krow leaned back, wary for a moment, before remembering that this was registration.

    If the challenge was tooplicated, yers wouldin. So the ghost shouldn''t be here to possess him.

    Right?

    The spirit was wearing court dress, a single pauldron on his shoulder. The device on the pauldron was colored pink and gold, which meant this was a high noble or royalty.

    The ghost lord stared at Eli, face stern and unmoving.

    Who knew what the correct way to approach a possibly royal draculkar was. Krow wracked his memory, but his draculkar friend had never spoken at length on etiquette.

    He defaulted to something basic, and bowed.

    "Greetings, high lord."

    That was polite enough right?

    The ghost inclined his head, more graceful and austere than the receptionist of the tower. "You havee to the imingte."

    Krow internally winced, kept his face neutral.

    Gojo said high nobles were tricky to please, and many were quick to avenge perceived insults on the point of a sword.

    Come to think of it, what the hell, they used ghosts of their high nobles to guard the vaults? Even in a small vige like this?

    Or was this just the game?

    The ghost moved again.

    Click. The phantom hand put down a gently circr smooth stone, starting the game, the sound of it echoing against the enclosing walls.

    ck moved first.

    Krow hid a smirk. It was a 9x9 line grid.

    At this point, it was only advanced tic-tac-toe.

    Fifteen minutester, he regretted even thinking it was going to be easy as the game announced his first failure cheerfully.

    Did Rends put advanced AI even in their mini-games?

    The old draculkar inclined his head, like the first time. "Again?"

    He grit his teeth. "Yes."

    "Win three of five games, and I will acknowledge your reasoning to be in this ce."

    And if he didn''t win, he''d be nless?

    Krow groaned. "Can I get a chair around here?"

    A chair rose just beside him. Crystals gleamed on the detailing.

    He sighed.

    An hourter, he put down his final stone.

    He checked the board again, frowning in concentration. He was fairly sure the old man had no moves left that would turn the tide, but he''d been wrong before.

    It was already thest game. And he''d lost another already.

    The grid gleamed, signaling game end, then glowed white.

    The old draculkar nodded. "Mm. Good. s Krow, wasn''t it."

    Yes! "I am, high lord."

    "Very well. Add your blood to the history of our Kin." The old spirit stood and disappeared.

    Krow jumped up and pumped a fist in the air. "Finally!"

    The jeweled table and chair receded, and the floor was in stone parquet once again.

    He took a cautious step. Don''t trust old spirits.

    Nothing more happened. He signed in relief and made for the pedestal that held a fantasy slot-machine.

    It was smaller, but more decorated than the pedestal in the character-creation area. The human one was decorated in carved reliefs.

    This one was also decorated, only rather than reliefs the d¨¦cor was in abstract design with jewels and precious metals.

    He activated the pedestal. There were two levels greyed out.

    He studied the choices: his two losses took out the two top tiers of social ranked ns in the draculkar race.

    This was different from the human race registration, where the fictional backstories were assigned from certain regions rather than from ns.

    Maybe because there were fewer draculkar than humans?

    The draculkar kingdom of the Marfall mountains was extensive though, ruling the peaks of the U Mountain Range and traditionally shing with the vargvir in the foothills and the lowest slopes.

    The pedestal ranked draculkar in 5 basic social tiers: royals, high nobles, lesser nobles,moners, nless.

    Krow didn''t know the specifics of the social structure, only that there were numerous ns in each social tier.

    Except thest, the nless, which were generally those banished for some major misstep, like treason, by the current elected ruler.

    And then, of the noble and royal tiers, different ns could hold different titles.

    Soundedplicated.

    But it wasn''t like Krow was going to have to deal with upper society much. He was going to be a border noble.

    From Gojo''s stories, there was a subtle implication that nobles from the bordends of the kingdom were less respected than the nobility of the hignds and londs.

    That was fine.

    Krow had things to do and no time to be tangled up in noble plots.

    He pulled down the lever of the slot machine on the pedestal.

    The machine hummed as the symbols within began to move, faster and faster.

    It whirred to a stop and he stared at the frame. Tickticktick-tick-tick..tick¡­tick¡­..tick.

    ck staff diagonal against three concentric ck circles all on avender background. The staff head had two crescents, curved backs to each other, facing outward.

    Krow smiled, amused. A traveler''s staff.

    That was his n sigil now.

    n Yulsukh.

    Krow looked over the data.

    Interesting.

    An ancient n, many notable exploits in history, whittled by time and war to a few families left. Then no families left.

    He was the only one.

    It was the same thest time. Probably, all the families and ns assigned to yers had died out.

    He returned to perusing the n summary data.

    Historical specialization in silversmithing, cartography, and a collection of great swordsmasters.

    A merchant n in themoner tier.

    Excellent. With his ns, having the history of a merchant n would give him points in negotiation.

    n Yulsukh gained n status through mapping the dimension behind the Isles of Night, and discovering the method of enchanting nightsilver.

    Huh.

    The Isles of Night was a smaller expansion, thest before the Quake. An archipgo in the east, past the Dawn Sea. Thends of the Nightworld hadn''t been cleared yet, when he joined the game thest time. He''d been preparing to head there after he reached Lvl 10.

    It was nned even this early, apparently.

    He could work with this, yes. The added bonuses to Trade and Metalworking were excellent. There was a bonus to Swordwielding too, but that wasn''t useful to him now.

    The slot-machine disappeared.

    [Congrattions! You have sessfully gained the might of n Yulsukh!]

    He smiled, pleased. If he could not immediately acquire the bonusnd functions of the nobility, then the merchant ns were the next best choice.

    He was about to turn away when the spirit popped up again, eyeing Krow keenly.

    What now?

    "In your blood glows the light of Kalvarkis. Do you choose to im this extinct bloodline?"

    "Extinct line?"

    Registration as a human had him only choose the region of the backstory, which had some bonuses to Rep if a yer moved his hometown to that region.

    Hometown was automatically set as the spawn point. It could be changed only twice.

    StrawmanScare had a bonus to STR because the region he''d won from the machine had a lot of knights, plus added VIT since he nailed the registration challenge the first time.

    What was this about extinct lines?

    This was because of the bloodstone, wasn''t it.

    He thought iming that line involved some Bloodright test?

    "You cannot fool this room, child. The blood of the Great Ancestor shows in the meanest of his descendants, even if only having a whiff of the blood. The House you hail from, it has not been seen in this world for an age."

    It <em>was</em> the bloodstone.

    "I choose to im it."

 Chapter 74 - Registration (3)

    Of course Krow chose to im it.

    He was still peeved over that bloodstone. If he didn''t im the bloodline it gave him, and the benefits of that bloodline, he''d find a way to kick himself to death for being an idiot.

    The spirit gave a thin smile, waved his hand.

    The top of the empty pedestal changed to the shape of a bowl. "A drop of blood into the confirmation bowl."

    Krow pulled a knife out of its holster with his left hand, pressed it to his right thumb lightly and watched blood well up in a thin line. He held his right hand over the bowl, returning the knife to its ce on his left thigh.

    He paused.

    His DEX stats and skills were showing. He hadn''t been this ambidextrous before.

    There was a certain disconnect with the avatar body, he came to the startling realization, when it did things like this. Things that were based on stats and not based on Eli Crewan.

    A drop of blood sshed against the side of the bowl.

    Krow lowered his hand, watch the drop of blood traverse the rough insides of the bowl, leaving bits of itself following in its wake, then only to gather as a bead of liquid in the center, a tiny vivid dot on the snow pale background.

    Rends had a high turnover, ording to the news media, when he joined the game thest time. One billion yers was impressive, but some popr augmented games had registrations for twice that number.

    It was not unusual for top portable games to have four or five billion active yers.

    Why then would the top VRMMORPG have only one billion active yers, especially when Rends yhouses sponsored by RSI popped up worldwide and the average person could ess a full gaming rig for the rtively affordable price of 200 ecru a month?

    Because for all the one billion yers that stayed, there were three billion who left the game.

    That was unprecedented.

    Was this the reason?

    This disconnect between real-self and game-avatar, slowly merging?

    Scary, to see yourself suddenly be someone you don''t recognize.

    This was the reason for the higher leveled yers reportedly having greater than usual mental strength.

    Krow could imagine it.

    The human people were a race constantly in conflict ¨C it was how they, as human beings, grew and transcended.

    But this?

    The longer the game went on, bit by bit a yer changed in ways that would rm people who didn''t y Rends.

    More and more, their habits and mores would reflect the game, rather than the ''realworld''. Slowly, they would be outcast in their old friend circles, slowly their families would fail to understand the changes that a virtual war would have on the psyche.

    There was no war on Earth.

    Krow blinked, then scoffed at himself for the wording.

    There was always war on Earth ¨C in business, in privacy, in entertainment, in the sh betweenw and ouw, in the material sphere, in the digital sphere, always.

    But a war of bloodshed and political geography has, for the majority of people currently on Earth, only been academic. Armed conflict overnd and political borders ended in thest century, with every nation and peoples settled not quite contentedly but peacefully. Oddly, that also settled most of the wars on religion.

    Krow couldn''tment on history, but his generation was the first to have never seen border conflicts even in the news media.

    The changes that the virtual battlefields of Rends brought to a person were likely not as physically visible as in the wars of old, but the shock to the sensibilities of a child raised in peace would still be considerable.

    And the distance these changes wrought between a Rends gamer and the peaceful world of Earth?

    The world''s sentiment for Rends, a year in the future, would slowly contain traces of rm. Researchers would be curious, social scientists would turn more off their attention to it.

    Virtual reality was ''too real''.

    Krow, in hisst life in the game, had never experienced these changes, low level as he was.

    He wondered though¡­

    If the quake hadn''t happened, would he be one of those who steeled themselves, held a core of Self within themselves even as their bodies evolved, strode forward into a new world and transcended their physical bodies?

    Or would he be one of those who quit, afraid of the greatness within themselves?

    "Hear!" the ghost intoned.

    Krow jerked out his musing.

    "Oh Ancestors, great and wise, upon this day, s Krow has confirmed his kinship to the House of Osmiorni, the skaldevin of Kandradka!"

    A scroll appeared above the pedestal, as long as his arm and thick as two fists together.

    It had ornate knobs, and gold and silver designs on the parchment.

    "Hear!" continued the spirit. "Oh kin of my kin, descended from the First of us, upon this day, s Krow has confirmed his headship of the n Yulsukh!"

    Another scroll appeared, iner but no less bulky.

    Krow was stunned.

    Why was the draculkar registration so much more exaggerated than the human one? Did he choose the most dramatic race in Zushkenar??

    No one told him this!

    No no, Krow backtracked; that would always be the sirens. But second most dramatic wasn''t any better!

    "Hear, upon this day!"

    The walls glowed.

    It <em>wasn''t</em> over yet?

    "I present s Krow of House Osmiorni! I present s Krow of n Yulsukh! Hear, oh you who lie within these stones!"

    Faces appeared on the walls, bubbling and shifting to other faces, thousands upon thousands. Too fast to recognize.

    Weeping graves.

    Krow wanted to know, when did this turn into a horror movie?

    It was over as soon as it began.

    The tiny tiles of the walls moved, swirling into pinpricks of colors, until there were tworge squares in the center of the wall past the pedestal.

    The presentation to the mayor of the town, hisst life, was definitely not like this.

    The ghost bowed, a slight incline of his body.

    Krow bowed back until the spirit faded away.

    He straightened, walked confidently past the pedestal to the wall. His bow had been useful, as he''d detected no traps on the floor.

    In the two squares, were two circr designs.

    The one on the right was the n Yulsukh emblem. The one on the left would then be the sigil of House Osmiorni?

    His brows shot up.

    It was an octopus.

    A purple octopus on a ck background, the colors of falling night. Or rising dawn, really.

    A draculkar noble house with a sea animal as their crest?

    Krow snickered, studied the eight arms coiling in eight directions.

    At least it wasn''t a dragon.

    He reached with both hands, touched the two sigils.

    With simultaneous clicks, they opened.

 Chapter 75 - Registration (4 Of 4)

    Within the recesses were two cube-shaped jewelry boxes. Krow took them out, familiar with the design. He''d gotten one thest time too.

    Inside each box was a single bracelet with the sigil worked into the design.

    So it was bracelets for draculkar?

    StrawmanScare got a pendant with a shield design containing a silver sword on blue.

    These name tokens proved citizenship within a kingdom.

    They could be used to sign documents, at least in Zushkenar.

    <strong>[s Krow''s n Yulsukh Headship Bracelet]</strong>[Unique]

    [+2 STR][+2 DEX][-1 MND]

    Gah! A negative MND?

    It also gave him +20% chance of sess to Trade, Metalworking, and Swordwielding rolls.

    <strong>[s Krow''s House Osmiorni Membership Bracelet]</strong>[Unique]

    [+5 MND] [-3 VIT]

    Ohe on! After he''d been feeding most of his points to VIT, this bracelet just cut three points away?

    Even if the MND made up for the loss from the other bracelet, wasn''t that a bit much?

    Osmiorni gave him +25% chance of sess to Negotiation, Schrship, and Enchantment rolls.

    That was all the data he had on Osmiorni, that and the fact that they were connected to a ''kandradka''. Krow assumed it wasbeled a membership because he had to go through the Bloodright thing to be head.

    He equipped the bracelets.

    Yulsukh on his right wrist, since it was the one he nned to use for most of his official business until the craft update. Then Osmiorni on his left, as he wasn''t going to use it for a while yet.

    He reced the jewelry boxes with the scrolls that had appeared when the spirit was confirming his registration. If it was simr to before, then these would be family trees.

    He unrolled the one with the Osmiorni sigil.

    [ess public records?]

    Krow snorted. He''d nearly forgotten.

    What a question to ask, in this era where privacy was a protectedmodity.

    Who gave a game ess to that much data about yourself?

    Even if the game crawlers trawled only the public records, privacyws demanded consent. This was a non-emergency situation, after all, and the game wasn''t aw enforcement agency.

    No one would sign this.

    This was the only time he would be asked this. The only chance to engrave a piece of his personal Earth into Zushkenar.

    "Yes."

    A contract appeared. He picked up the stylus and signed, with both Elias Crewan and s Krow.

    The moment he put down the stylus, the names on the family tree started appearing.

    He swallowed as his parents'' names appeared on the scroll. Their real names. His grandparents, and so on.

    Thest time, he didn''t do this. His family tree in Zushkenar had been made up names.

    This time, he had this record.

    It was good.

    Krow noted that the data was limited to parents and children of his direct ancestry. So no distant cousins on the tree.

    Krow let the scroll unravel, the expanse of the family tree revealed.

    Whoa.

    Fourteen generations. It had to be three hundred years of names before it came to a single ancestor. In the tree though, they were given draculkar lifespans. The tree spanned over three thousand years instead of three hundred.

    He looked at the parchment, unrolled too the length of the vaulted room decorated with countless sigils.

    His family, enshrined in a virtual tomb with the weight of virtual millennia cloaking them.

    He rolled the scroll back up carefully and ced it into the recess.

    Touching the sigils, the recesses closed up.

    The scrolls would be protected here.

    His bracelets would automatically return here, should he die. Retrieving them was thest step in the revival process. Krow lifted his wrist. The bracelets were hidden by the sleeve of his coat and protected by his gauntlets.

    Thest step of the registration process was getting actual papers.

    Walking up the pristine stairs, devoid of the debris of battle, he paused. There was a peculiar post-and-lintel construction he hadn''t noticed before.

    He brushed his hand over the symbols carved on the post. Blue sparks brushed off the stone.

    A portal.

    He looked back at the vault. So it wasn''t in Cerkanst.

    Behind his eyes, there sparked an idea.

    He recorded every inch of the portal construction before continuing up the stairs.

    Sarnaan smiled at him as he came up from the vault. "How many name documents do you need?"

    Krow held up two fingers.

    He touched each of his bracelets to the papers Sarnaan brought out, inscribing his information and sigil onto the allotted spaces on the parchment.

    Sarnaan rolled them up and stood. "Follow me, please."

    She walked up to the next level, stamped and filed the bulk of them into secure drawers. The two she left out, she stamped and returned to Krow. "The head''s office is four doors down to the right. He''ll be expecting you."

    "Thanks."

    "Wee to Cerkanst, Krow," she smirked. "Hopefully, there won''t be another Silverstripe attack for another three decades."

    Krow grinned at her. "But then how would I earn a living?"

    Sheughed as they exited the fileroom. "Didn''t you give it away anyhow?"

    "You heard about that?"

    "Atimur walked through the vige looking like a festival lion, with a massive snakeskin nearly toppling him over every step. What did you expect?" She patted his shoulder and started back down the stairs.

    Oh.

    Atimur, Krow assumed, was Hch the herb-grower''s son.

    He headed toward the vige leader''s office.

    One, two, three, four doors.

    He knocked.

    "Come in."

    The vige head was old. As old as Chanchani who he bought the warehouse from. And yet, his steel-colored eyes held the vigor and curiosity of someone centuries younger.

    "Greetings, elder," Krow remembered how Sucar had greeted Chanchani before. "Are you free?"

    "Certainly for business. I have not seen you in the vige before, have I?"

    "s Krow. I''ve only recentlye to the vige."

    "Ah! The young Silverstripe hunter. You are not hurt badly, I hope? Come and sit. I am Gysavur bal Thaunal."

    Very different from Chanchani.

    "Nothing a Low Heal couldn''t cure."

    "Here to have your name papers stamped, I imagine. Let''s see them, then." He rummaged in a drawer,ing up with a stamp.

    "Yes, but I also had a private concern, and hoped to ask for your guidance." Krow slid the parchment to the center of the table.

    "Go on." The old draculkar perused the papers.

    The stamp pressed firm on the papers, glowed briefly. His identity and hometown were now official.

    Krow didn''t mince words. "How does someone enter the Bloodright Gauntlet?"

 Chapter 76 - For The Future, Prepare Clothing

    Gysavur looked up from the papers.

    "Perhaps not an unexpected question, considering what I have before me." He put away the stamp, slid the papers back to Krow. "Most entrants are rmended by their Houses."

    "I am the only one of my House."

    Gysavur hummed. "Then you must rmend yourself."

    Krow let out a huff ofugher. This old man. "Are there no requirements?"

    "The Gauntlet is always held on the first circling of the year, to rouse the spring. Are you certain you would be ready then?"

    Today was the afternoon of November 17, which tranted to the third day of the eighth circling. Then the first circling of the Rends year would be in¡­February. The first half of February.

    "If not, there is next one, and the one after that."

    Krow was only answering the vige head''s concerns, like he would cate one of his aunt''s friends.

    Taking the next would be nearly toote, as it would ur in August, just four months before the Quake. And the year after, he would already be in Zushkenar.

    Krow had to pass the first time, or the n''s difficulty would double and triple with the rush needed to get everything into ce.

    "It is a virtue, to know how to go slowly." Gysavurced his fingers on the table. There was a glint of amused knowing in his steel eyes. "I can tender an application for you, if you wish."

    "I do."

    "Then you must prepare clothing."

    Krow waited. Gysavur said nothing more.

    ¡­what?

    "Ah, that''s¡­it?"

    "A young draculkar with the ability to defeat a Silverstripe Tasseline Serpent will do well enough to pass the Gauntlet battles. As for the other tests, you only have to prove that you have the family scroll and a name token."

    "Really?"

    "They are a test of fortitude, to be certain. You only need to be seen out and about. There are many gatherings."

    "It''s¡­.a social test?"

    "Indeed. You might want to change your registration, if you are nning to attend the next Gauntlet. Those of the skycities think little of us here at the foot of the grand mountains."

    "I''d prefer not to mix harmoniously with them, if they thought people were lesser foring from different locations."

    Gysavur smiled, his tinum eyebrows quirking up over his lined face. "If you say so, then your information will be sent toward the capital tomorrow."

    "Thank you."

    His quest notification pinged.

    "It is a small matter. You have saved those of my vige, after all, from a Silverstripe, and honorably offered appeasement for the damage. I would like to know the reason it attacked. Silverstripes generally stay away from settlements, preferring to avoid conflict."

    Krow considered, then inwardly sighed. He needed the RP more than the armor.

    "I can help with that."

    A notification told him he epted the quest. He smiled wryly.

    A twist of his wrist, and a pile of armor appeared on the vige head''s floor.

    "The Serpent was possessed."

    Gysavur stood, eyes riveted on the dwarviran armor for a long moment, intense. Then a tired expression came over his features. "I see."

    Krow was surprised. "You know him."

    "We were known to each other, a long time ago." He looked away, out the window. His voice was carefully modted. "Where did you find this?"

    They were friends, Krow realized. He thought about the cage, the rage and misery that turned into malice after a few hundred years as a ghost¡­

    He nced at the armor. Ah.

    He was now dder he destroyed the cage.

    "At the underground reservoirs of thergest broken tower, on the other side of the falls. I was tracking the Silverstripe."

    Gysavur nced at him, smiled briefly. "Do not feel bad. A practical reality of the long-lived is that emotions fade in time. As everything does. You found him. And that is a good thing."

    Krow took the chest out of his Inventory quietly. "I was going to find ake, for this."

    Gysavur blinked at him. Then looked at the old chest that used to keep books.

    "Ah." He returned his gaze to Krow after a moment. "You are an odd one, aren''t you?"

    Considering he''d transmigrated to another world, then time-traveled back, yes. Very odd.

    But old man, he was only odd by circumstance!

    "You may leave things to me, continuing."

    Krow nodded. He tucked his name-papers into his coat. "Good day, vige head."

    "And you, young friend. You are of course wee to stay in the First Tower as long as you wish."

    <em>[You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:An Old Friendship:|</strong>, gaining +9 Experience Points, +5 Silver Serpens!]</em>

    <em>[You''ve finished the Hidden Sub-objective: Renounce the Dishonored Armor, gaining +25 Reputation in Cerkanst Vige, +1 Reputation in Guinsant Alliance Territory!]</em>

    [Your local Reputation has increased to 200! You are now Known to Cerkanst Vige.]

    "I would give you the armor, in normal circumstances," continued the vige head, "but if you sold it, I''m afraid there will be unrest. And keeping it as a trophy would not be advised."

    Hah?

    Gysavur must have seen his confusion, because a corner of his lips lifted fleetingly, amusement shing through his eyes. "The armor of a dukemander of the dwarviran nobility, ced on auction in the Bourse. What a thing to happen, in this uncertain climate. It would have tongues wagging from here to the Shattered Continent. And storms brewing over the strongholds of the Grens."

    Oh.

    When said like that, Krow was doubly happy he divested himself of a ticking time-bomb he didn''t even know he had.

    His RP with the vige was a satisfactory recement.

    He walked to his room, and once there with the door barred, he brought out a battered journal, one of the two books from the secret room.

    He''d skimmed it, in that dark room under a tower.

    He''d thought to give it to the vige head, but not when he heard the name.

    It had glossed over the story of Anaret Gren, from five hundred and forty years ago, who was lost to wander the Grandshield Forest, and was found at the border half-dead by herb-growers.

    He was nursed to healthiness by the prowess of the vige apothecaries, and taken in by the vige head of that time, one Valemere bal Thaunal. The current vige head''s mother.

    It took some years for the dwarvir topletely recover, and by then had formed deep ties in the vige.

    The writer of the journal hated the dwarvir, for taking the attention and care of Gysavur bal Thaunal, who was their friend. He hated how close they were, like brothers.

    The writer learned in his journeys outside the draculkar kingdom that the armor Anaret Gren wore was from their high nobles.

    He schemed to capture the dwarvir, then wrote a note of ransom to the Gren family who lived in the Gate City of Duryndon.

    The journal detailed how the writer taunted him, called him many derogatory names, and beat him until the armor dented and could not be removed.

    The ring, the one that radiated malice, belonged to the writer.

    Anaret Gren had bit it off him, and swallowed the finger.

    The writer hated him more after that.

    Krow closed the journal.

    It wasn''t something that he could give to Gysavur bal Thaunal.

    The old draculkar said that emotions faded in time. But Krow knew that the memories of the young were the most vivid.

    He remembered more things from when he was a child than when he was an employed adult, for example. What he remembered of corporate life now was general, the days blurring together. But he could remember vividly six days from when he was eight years old that his mother pulled him from school and took him to visit a different ce every day.

    He had friends that he knew for years from work, that he saw every day, but with whom he was more distant with than an old friend from childhood who he had not seen in years.

    Well. He once had friends.

    Krow sighed at himself.

    The journal wasn''t continued.

    Krow could only specte what happened.

    Probably the Grens tracked down the writer and devastated the vige, but Anaret Gren was nowhere to be found.

    With no one to know he was held in a secret tunnel that the ancestors of the journal writer knew because they were once builders, he starved to death, believing his friends had abandoned him.

    No wonder he was angry enough to possess people.

    The vige head probably suspected something like this, but he didn''t know the details.

    Krow should just throw the journal into a fire.

    Something in him hesitated.

    He was a child of the modern Earth, where books were revered. There were very few people who published print books in the traditional manner anymore, very few who wrote in notebooks like this.

    To burn a book was sacrilege.

    He didn''t want to keep it, and it wasn''t something that should see the light of day.

    He shook his head, tossed the journal into his Inventory.

    For now, it was safer there.

 Chapter 77 - The Drunkard Buri (1)

    An increase in reputation to Known subtly changed the kinds of quests given to Krow. They were harder, more involved with the everyday life of the vige.

    That came with downsides ¨C he took more time to finish quests to gain just one point of RP, though the Exp and cash were greater.

    epting quests to increase RP, limited the time he had to scout the nearby terrain and hunt.

    Eliminating monster nests also increased RP, but total elimination meant the nests had a longer waiting time before respawning.

    Oh, and he needed to rent a warehouse in Cerkanst.

    He could transfer all his gathered material from post-vault to Inventory, but where would he keep them?

    If he kept sending all his gathered material to the warehouse in Nyurajke, it''d be tedious transferring everything to Cerkanst at once when he started leveling Enchanter.

    It was better to start collecting material in Cerkanst itself now.

    As it was, there were crates of weapons and ethermica to transfer to Cerkanst before he could start crafting.

    Krow sighed. He would really miss the Inventory after the Quake.

    After the Quake, he''d need to ship material from warehouse to warehouse by caravan.

    From Nyurajke to Cerkanst, by caravan, it was six to eight days. He''d calcted based on the Essax caravan''s speed and route.

    And if Krow didn''t advance the vige''s infrastructure by then, it might be more days, as there would not be a trade road to Cerkanst.

    Thankfully, on a galedrifter, the the twisty mountain routes could be bypassed, traversing a road distance of eight hundred kilometers in a matter of hours.

    "A warehouse?" Sarnaan shook her head. "There''s the one we use to gather herbs for sale in town. But you need an empty one? You could talk to Buri. He''s in the tavern most days, but he''s more reliable than his older brother; he might be able to help."

    The tavern was an odd construction, not made of wide-open spaces but of carved wooden boothsrge and small, many even needed stairs to get to, built high on the stone walls as they were.

    It was ensconced on the second level of the tower Khoyresk, the one closest to the administrative tower.

    There was a skybridge connecting them, stretched from the fifth level of the administrative tower to the eighth level of the smaller tower.

    "You mean Drunken Buri?" A patron of the tavern, already flushed with drink, nodded toward a booth in the corner. "That''s him there¡­or¡­or is that a broom? He was there when I came in, anyway. Ahey, Jebkhan, another fill here!"

    Krow left the draculkar, who had already forgotten him in favor of his drink.

    Under the thick cloud of pungent herbs that draculkar liked to smoke and the scent of spilled alcohol, the air smelled of apples, sweat, soil, and smoked meat.

    A crash ofughter from a booth caused someone in the booth above them to negligently pour his drink on the floor, causing theughter to stop and insults to flow.

    The bartender was a child.

    Krow peered. Yep, a child standing on a bench behind the bar counter. Krow stopped to watch as a twelve-year old flippedrge wine-jars onto his two shoulders and rolled them off skillfully so he could to pour into tankards, three and even four wine-jars at a time.

    He''d taken quests from here before, where was Kalorke?

    "Skilled isn''t he, my nephew? A worthy sessor."

    Krow turned to the pleasantly scratchy voice,ing from the booth he''d been heading to.

    Buri the Drunken did not look at all drunk, onlyzy.

    "Your nephew?"

    "My brother''s son."

    Krow nodded. "Sarnaan said you might be able to help me."

    "Sarnaan, pfah! Is the woman meddling again?" Buri waved his arm. One of the servers came over. "He''s paying."

    The chin that jerked toward Krow made no mistake of who exactly was paying.

    "One jar," Krow agreed, sliding into the booth. "No more."

    "Tsk. You are," Buri squinted across the table. "Old enough to drink, yes?"

    Krow red. "A jar of charantais."

    The server nodded.

    A hand mmed into the table."Brabat! It''s brabat or nothing! Who do you think I am, some fancy milksop?"

    Brabat was a distilled beverage, made from fermented rime-apples and a few herbs. It was golden brown, strongly fragrant, faintly sweet, and kicked like a battlefield mule.

    It was a traditional draculkar drink, exported to the whole of the Territory and beyond.

    "Northern brabat, then."

    "The western is best!"

    A muscle in the server''s jaw ticked.

    He must be new.

    "Lakan brabat."

    Buri''s eyes widened a fraction. Then heughed, loud and echoing.

    "I like you! Fine, thekan."

    Krowughed, too. "You were meant to decline that!"

    He''d actually never tried it before. But sinceing back to this time, he''d never had a drink.

    Technically, it was safer to drink in Rends than in some random bar.

    "Toote. The server''s gone!"

    Theyughed again.

    The server had slipped away before they could change their minds again.

    Lakan brabat,monly called kan'', was the strongest drink made from apples, or mostly apples, in the Territory. It was a border variation of the brabat, a dubious drink as nearly every brewer had their own variation and the drinker was never quite sure of the effects until they were already drunk.

    The server brought back a tall wine jar and cups.

    He lifted a brow at Krow. "Two serpens."

    Krow lifted his brow back yfully, infected somewhat by the atmosphere in the tavern, and gave three.

    Buri poured as soon as the cups were set on the table, eagerly filling both to the brim. "Drink! Drink, then let''s see what you came here for."

    Krow epted the cup.

    "Health, wealth, and a lifetime ofughter!"

    They downed their cups, mmed them on the table.

    Buri immediately topped up the cups with a wide grin.

    He looked like a wild youth, following at the heels of Bhus.

    All he needed was grape leaves in his hair.

    "Long life, bright skies, and the love of a dragon!" That one brought cheers andughter from around them.

    They drank again.

    The taste ofkan was sweet and alcoholic, but not harsh. It didn''t burn, flowing smoothly down his throat.

    "More!"

    Oh, he already knew he was going to regret this.

    "May you cheat death, steal hearts, and always have a bottle withpany!"

    Krow lost sense of time.

    It was possible to get drunk in Rends, like it was possible feel sensation. Being drunk was just connections in the brain going askew.

    Like sensation however, the effects of alcohol were dulled.

    There were very few beverages that would skid close enough to the unconsciousness threshold to get falling down drunk. Lakan brabat wasn''t one of those. But it was close.

    So Krow''s world spun. His mind expanded, past body, past the world, past the shackles that bound him to worry.

    An unburdening.

    Then Buri stood up, shouting. The words were far away.

    He wasn''t shouting at Krow, so he turned to look. Everyone was drunk. Someone was menacing the bartender?

    Wait, the bartender was a kid. Krow stood up too.

    He threw his cup. It bounced satisfactorily off the head of whoever was leaning over the bar counter. Buri roared inughter, so it probably wasn''t that serious.

    Someone shoved him. He shoved back.

    The world went dark.

 Chapter 78 - The Drunkard Buri (2)

    Being drunk on brabat alone wasn''t enough to be unconsciousness in Rends.

    But coupled with a blow to the head¡­

    Krow sighed as he was kicked out of the game to his virtual room.

    [You''ve been rendered unconscious. Choose length of unconsciousness. 0:00:00:00]

    It was nightfall in Rends anyway. Tomorrow was Friday and he had work.

    He set himself to wake up after one and a half in-game days of unconsciousness. Then logged out.

    When he woke up in Rends next, it was to a room very different from his assigned one at the First Tower. He cautiously eyed the room, not moving. He sat up, frowned.

    There was a window right beside the bed, and the morning sun filtered prettily through pale gauzy curtains.

    "Uncle said you should sleep more." Beside the bed was a tiny draculkar. Small enough when standing that the elevated bed tform hid her from his eyes.

    Krow rxed a little.

    "And you came here to keep an eye on me?" He smiled at her, pressed curiously at the bandage on his head before unraveling it.

    The scent of medicinal herbs strengthened.

    Dropping the herb-poulticed bandages on the side table, he swung his legs off the bed, tested his bnce as he stepped off the tform.

    Good enough.

    The reality system that governed in-game health seemed to think he had minor effects from the night of drunken fighting and therefore swept them all away.

    He plucked at his starting shirt and trousers, the only clothing he was wearing. The room had an armchair and table, and a bedside table, but no wardrobe or clothing shelves.

    "Do you know where my clothes are?"

    "In the clothes chest?" The child, barely over toddling age, looked at him like he was stupid.

    "And where is this clothes chest?"

    "Under the bed!"

    "Is it? Thanks. Good work for knowing."

    The child giggled happily.

    Krow dropped to his knees and tossed the nkets up. The underside of the bed tform was divided into drawerponents.

    Boots, coat, weapons ¨C they were all there.

    Where was his mask?

    He reached to open the bedside table drawer. essories, check.

    "Shouldn''t you go tell your uncle or your parents that I''m awake?"

    The child grinned and shot off, yelling. "Imah! Imah!"

    Krow pulled back the bead-curtain on the other doorway, satisfied when he saw a bathroom. He washed quickly and dressed.

    His clothes had been washed and pressed, his boots buffed.

    He should thank whoever did that. His clothes had been looking a bit messy. Cleanliness affected durability as well.

    He leaned toward the mirror, clipped his earrings on.

    The mask stretched across his face again.

    Buri grinned at himzily from a circr table. "The sleeping beauty wakes! It is the second day already, and the fight is long done. Aren''t you too slow?"

    "You try waking right after being hit on the head." Krow sat on one of the curved seats surrounding the circr table. "This is your house?"

    "The long-gone ancestors kept the wines of the old nobles, and after they fell, continued to live in this vige. We are honored," Buri continued with sardonic air, "by rooms in the Khoyresk."

    "You don''t sound very honored."

    "A second tower in a dying vige. What is there to be honored about?"

    "Buri." A female draculkar came out of the kitchen, voice admonishing. She was older than them both. The tiny draculkar from his room smiled at him from behind her robes.

    "This is my kinsister, brother''s wife. And that little one is Dayan, my one and only niece. Maga, this is Krow, the serpent yer, the long sleeper, the patron saint of barmen."

    "I assure thedy, and the littledy," Krow said wryly as he stood to greet the older, "Those titles are not mine to im. s Krow. Krow is fine."

    She put the cloth-covered basket she was carrying on the table, smiled at him. "Please call me Maga, as my kinbrother does. I''m told you started a barfight to defend my son''s honor."

    Krow blinked. "I did what?"

    "Pfft!" Buri bent over the table inughter. "You don''t remember! I knew you weren''t old enough to drink!"

    Ah, he...threw a cup at someone menacing the bartender. But after that was fuzzy. Not to mention, the thing about virtual reality popted with AIs was that the action continues even after a gamer leaves.

    "And you''re old enough to not be clumsy." Krow saw the draculkar trip and take down two tables and no people.

    He remembered plenty, okay?

    Buri onlyughed harder.

    Krow turned to Maga. "<em>Is</em> it a dying vige?"

    "I would not say so, but¡­every year more of the young ones leave." She slid tes and cups to six ces at the table. "The herb fields aren''t expanding."

    "Not that they could," interrupted Buri, recovering from hisughter.

    "Buri." Maga sighed. "Young Krow, I heard you registered in the vige? I hope for your future, you are not an herb-grower."

    "The hunting close to Cerkanst is particrly varied," Krow mildly stated in reply.

    "We are at the edges of the Dalsantsfald. The monsters close by are strong," Maga warned him. "It''s one of the reasons we cannot expand past the foot of the cliff."

    He nodded. "There are no hunters in the vige?"

    Buri snorted. "Of Common monsters, yes. But this is a vige of herbalists. The nearest vige is a hunter vige attached to Rakaens. The town would never send their huntmasters and butchers here, to an unaffiliated vige, to teach skills that would lessen their profits."

    An unaffiliated vige.

    In the end, it was that bit of data that was a cherry on top of all the other reasons to register in Cerkanst.

    Krow didn''t realize it came with such downsides.

    There were many unaffiliated viges in the bordends, something that wasn''t allowed in the londs and hignds. It showed how much disinterest the Cyzar had for the edges of his nation.

    A group of people could create an unaffiliated vige on unimednd, as long as they could pay the ''rent''. But they received no support, as they were not attached to the tradeworks of the towns. Plus, their taxes went directly to the kingdom coffers and nothing returned.

    Cerkanst didn''t grow enough herbs for towns to want to offer a production contract, and their fields could not be expanded to gain enough to improve their infrastructure.

    Good for Krow, but not good for the people here.

    "Rethinking your registration?" Buri smiled at him, eyes half-mocking, half-understanding. He twitched one side of the cloth away from the basket and took out a small meat pie, biting into it.

    "No."

    "Good," came a deep voice from the doorway. "We need more people in the vige."

    Kalorke the tavern-owner walked into the room, face and hands wet with wash-water.. At his heels wasst night''s young bartender.

 Chapter 79 - The Drunkard Buri (3 Of 3)

    "Brother, you''ve met Krow before. And that''s my nephew, Talebrech."

    The boy smiled at Krow shyly. "Thank you forst night."

    The boy was thanking him for throwing a cup?

    Krow mentally shrugged. "You''re wee."

    "Yes, thank you again, Krow." Maga picked Dayan up and sat, with the girl on her thighs. "Of course, if someone else was there to do his job, this would never have happened."

    Kalorke paused as he sat down, before ignoring her and reaching for a meatpie instead. He nced at Krow. "I didn''t think you would be one to fall so deep into drink."

    Bro, Krowined silently, don''t use me to annoy your wife!

    "It was more because of the chair to the head that he fell," Buri snorted. He smirked. "The drink he held well enough."

    That wasn''t helping either.

    Thankfully, Buri grabbed two meat pies, tossed one to Krow, and sauntered out the door.

    Krow smiled politely at the table, then paused. "Thank you for putting up with me for this time."

    Then he followed after Buri. The draculkar was leaning against a balustrade, waiting.

    "Does the tavern sell shotbark rabbit meat?"

    Buri, chewing on his pie, lifted a brow inquisitively.

    "I should pay for taking up someone''s bed thest two nights."

    "Not necessary." Buri waved his sentiments away. "It was a guest room."

    "Even then."

    Buri eyed him, then relented. "Shotbark rabbit, huh? I''ll bring you to the assistant cook. You should''ve told Maga if you wanted to give meat. She''s in charge of the tavern kitchens during the daytime."

    He wanted to, but staying there was a bit awkward.

    The assistant cook shot Buri a look when Krow piled seven rabbit carcasses on the table, then added one more to make sure of the weight.

    "A hundred kilos. Will that do?"

    Buri shrugged. "The other night, you said you had something to talk about?"

    The tavern at midmorning was not so popted, only a few people at the tables closest to the kitchen. The booths were empty.

    "I''m looking for a warehouse to rent. Sarnaan directed me to you." Krow finished off the meatpie. Not bad. The meat had the strong vor of game, tender and spiced.

    Buri coughed augh at Krow''s statement. "The witch actually thinks I''m good for something?"

    "I''m surprised too. Someone who actually trips over their own feet during a barfight could not¡ªgah!"

    Buri shoved him.

    Krow flipped onto the balustrade and slid down, smirking up at the other.

    Buri huffed, amused. "What sort of storage are you looking at? I do have a couple of unused warehouses, but they''re old. Haven''t been used in a generation."

    For draculkar, a generation was what, a hundred years? That didn''t sound promising.

    "I''m going to use it for monster materials."

    Buri made a considering sound. "I see why she sent you to me."

    "She was probably optimistic."

    "Do you want to fall off these stairs?"

    Krow gave him a grand smile. "We''re already on the road."

    "A pity."

    "Let''s see these warehouses of yours then."

    Buri led the way. "They''ll need some work done before they''ll be able to store monster goods, probably. As I said, they''re old."

    "And unused." Who knew what state they were in now?

    "Not enough people to use them."

    They made their way into some trees and Krow saw arge circr building, just three levels. The top was domed, creating a fourth level within.

    The ground fell away some meters from the warehouse entrance, and steps were carved into the stone.

    Krow peered over the stone balustrade.

    Right below them was a part of the herb fields, and close by were the waterfall gardens that grew the vige''s most lucrative herbs.

    "Grandfather was one of the few people who refused to gut his warehouses and convert them to domiciles when the herb trade declined. His warehouses are the only ones currently usable for you, unless the Widow Gegeq took care of hers."

    "And did she?"

    Buri scoffed. "Unlikely."

    Ah.

    Buri tapped his bracelet onto the lock. It clicked open. He tugged on the handle of the double-doors once. Twice. Harder. Then he used two hands. "What is wrong with this eighteen-forsaken door?"

    Krow came forward to help him, flipping a shovel into his hand.

    With difficulty, they pried at the crack between doors, until they separated widely with a loud creak and thud.

    A plume of dust escaped the entrance as fresh wind surged into a space whose air hadn''t been circted for decades. The two fell back, coughing.

    A hundred-year-old stench followed the dust, creating a choking miasma.

    "Probably not that one," croaked Krow. Even his mask could not keep that out.

    Buri grunted, mouth and nose covered with an arm.

    Closing the door was easier, thankfully. Buri mmed his bracelet onto the lock and the smell cut off.

    They sighed in relief.

    The next warehouse was lower on the cliff, closer to several houses.

    Opening it was just as difficult.

    The moment the doors parted, they both leaped to the side like frightened rabbits.

    Dust bloomed out the opening too, but the smell was far less intense than the first. It was just old age and mildew, nothing mysterious.

    A long moment, and Krow peered past one of the sliding doors. "Looks clear."

    Buri strode inside, paused, looked down, then nkly strode out again.

    Krow looked at the draculkar''s boots. The thick soles were covered in ck fluff.

    The floor of the warehouse was entirely covered in soft ashy mold.

    "Thest one''s not a good bet," Buri informed him, wiping his soles on the grass.

    It wasn''t. The third warehouse was unfortunately too close to the waterfall, and had rotted through in ces.

    The second it was.

    "Too bad the cleaning enchants are worn down." Krow muttered.

    "Friend, let me let you in on a small secret." Buri unsheathed the knife at his waist, peered at the enchant polygon and skillfully traced his knife into the design.

    Not every enchant needed to be contained in a shape, but for those that were used in structural magics, a polygonal containment design based on theplexity of the enchant was needed for longevity of effectiveness.

    The cleaning enchantment carved on the building was contained in a square, which was one of the simpler designs.

    After carefully tracing the lines of the design, Buri blew the excess wood off.

    The design shed, and the floor exploded.

    "Oy!"

    Krow grabbed Buri and threw him bodily out the door, following tond with an easy roll, bouncing to his feet.

    "Didn''t expect that," Buri pushed himself up from the ground. "At least you threw me into the grass. If I hit rock and broke my legs, I''ll be thanking you for the price of the potions. That witch will call me a cripple as well as useless, and there will be no living with her after."

    Krow raised his brows. "Are you living with her?"

    Buri''s face flushed. "What do you take me for?"

    Krow stifled augh. "A gentleman, I''m sure." The dark cloud in the warehouse dissipated. "In any case, you''re not useless. The cleaning enchant worked."

    The stone of the warehouse floor was free of mold, and most of the dust was gone.

    They entered the warehouse.

    Buri smiled, pleased. "Huh. Guess it worked after all."

    "You didn''t think it would?"

    "It works less often than you think." A satisfied look came over his face. "We could do the same to some of the simpler enchants here."

    They spent the day looking for and restoring the enchants.

    The amount of enchants that were working was surprising, but a good surprise.

    The downside, was that Buri cheerfully stated outright that he was raising the price because hisbor was ''a preciousmodity, you know''.

    The warehouse was smaller than the one in Nyurajke, a total of 1800 slots.

    At 200 drax a year for a three-year lease contract, Krow was still satisfied.

    Buri transferred the lock control to Krow''s Yulsukh bracelet, then slung an arm over his shoulders.

    "Time to celebrate!"

 Chapter 80 - Another Warehouse (1)

    There was a bit more work needed on the warehouse than Krow and Buri could get done in a day.

    So after a morning of doing quests, Krow returned to the warehouse. The basic warehouse enchants ¨C preservation, security, cleaning, were intact butcked power.

    Charging them was needed before he could transfer materials from Nyurajke. That meant opening a crate of ethermica.

    As the building sucked the magic from the ethermica cubes, Krow practiced using two revolvers.

    It wasn''t going well.

    A gun skittered across the stone floor of the warehouse, as he instinctively moved like usual then rapidly tried to correct. That was the tenth time. Or eleventh. Was it twelfth?

    Krow exhaled hard, walked to pick up the revolver.

    The rhythm of using and reloading two revolvers in battle ¨C he just couldn''t find one.

    Especially since the second revolver was holstered in the small of his back, keeping the butcher knives strapped to his left leg.

    He''d tried swapping, cing the knives on his back and the second revolver on his left hip. That was even worse. For some reason, his DEX fell by five points when he did that.

    What even was the use of giving Dual Wield if it knocked points off the stat that gave it in the first ce?!

    Krow holstered both guns, face dark.

    It was the belt-cylinders.

    He''d tested, and it was only when the original cylinders were installed on the guns that the five-point loss disappeared.

    But unless he found cylinders of the same shape and size as the originals that held as many bullets or more as the belt-cylinders, the belt-cylinders stayed.

    There was nothing on the Bourse, so until then, he had to practice dual wielding with one revolver in a back holster.

    He took a deep breath, let it go.

    Ignoring the second revolver, he fell into the single-revolver rhythm he''d gotten used to. He squeezed the trigger. Click-click-click-click. Thumbed the decoupling switch, caught the cylinder as it fell, flicked it into the speed-inventory, reced with another clip, installed, then click-click-click-click, restart the whole thing.

    Then again.

    The motions were nearly automatic. Krow calmed. Stopped. Holstered the revolver. Drew it, made his motions slower.

    Click-click-click¡­

    Sixteen shots, holster. Drew the second; sixteen shots, return. Reload the first, then shoot, reholster. Reload the second, shoot, reholster. Draw the first, reload and shoot. Draw the second, the same. Double re¡ªgah!

    A revolver dropped.

    It was only the first day, he consoled himself. He picked up the gun.

    Click-click-click¡­

    He practiced until long after the sun went down and he had to light a fewmps, taking breaks to add more ethermica to the building enchants.

    It was halfway to moonset when the buildingmps turned on, glowing a cheery orange.

    Krow startled, and a revolver once again skidded across the stone-tiled floor.

    Weeping skies, what the hell.

    He retrieved the revolver, looked up.

    Some of the warehousemps were busted, but enough were lit to see right up to the ceiling three levels up.

    The lights were a pretty minor enchant. Them turning on meant the rest of the warehouse magics had been charged already.

    Krow holstered his gun and jogged to where the main power conduit was exposed.

    One hundred seventy-two cubes of ethermica, just to charge the building enchants. How much was used in its creation?

    No wonder a warehouse was so expensive.

    He stepped onto the open lift, pulled a lever. The pulleys creaked, but the lift started to rise. The hours spent oiling the mechanics and changing the ropes were well spent.

    Like the other warehouses Buri showed him, it was three levels, with a domed top.

    The ground level and the second level were empty, suitable to stack crates in. The shelves on the third level weren''t as many as there had been, but what remained was workable. Krow got out.

    The fourth level, right under the dome, could only be essed by stairs. He blinked at the light from above. It looked like the dome was made of some sort of semi-opaque crystal or ss. The light of Enilhadrad filtered through, creating an almost fairy-like atmosphere.

    Krow pulled a lever, curious. The lights snapped on, adding the color of me to the milky filtered moonlight.

    He turned the lights off.

    This level wasn''t connected to the enchants on the lower floors?

    He''d have to ask Buri what it was for.

    He took the lift back to the first level, having thought of something.

    This was an herb warehouse.

    There should be a basement level. Some herbs only kept their potency if stored in the dark.

    Krow examined the walls of the first level, passed a hand over carvings and murals. Then the floors.

    Could the entrance be outside?

    He circled the warehouse, amp held high. Part of the building was built into the cliff. But a basement entrance should be at the first level¡­right?

    Nothing on the outer walls.

    He looked around.

    The front of the warehouse was a paved terrace, which ended in a balustrade and stone steps - stairs going upward to the vige proper, and downward to the herb-field paths and the foot of the cliff.

    Across from the doors, leaning over the balustrade, was one of the purple-leafed trees in he''d seen in the hignd wilds. Buri called it a morningstorm tree.

    It spread over half the terrace. He eyed it quizzically. Cutting it down would''ve given the warehouse more space for loading and unloading.

    He stepped under its leafy shade, reached for a branch to climb. A pleasant scent tickled his nose, fragrant. The leaves emanated the scent of flowery spring even deep into the summer.

    Refreshing.

    Click.

    Krow cursed and jumped back from the stone he stepped on to boost himself upward. What was it with draculkar and their love for ground-based activation mechanisms?!

    The grinding sound from somewhere below was nearly anti-climactic.

    Krow cautiously leaned over the balustrade, lowering themp.

    One level below, on the cliffside veiled by the spreading branches of the morningstorm tree, there was a door revealed.

    Krow vaulted the balustrade,nded on the small ledge.

    This couldn''t be the actual basement entrance?

    There wasn''t even any path that led to the door!

    He tapped his bracelet on the lock.

    It clicked open.

 Chapter 81 - Another Warehouse (2 Of 2)

    The fact that the door opened at all prove that it was part of the warehouse. Krow toed the door open wider, cautious. It stuck a bit, but nothingpared to the irascibility of the front doors yesterday.

    The lights flickered on as he entered. They were dimmer here. The space was as empty as the upper floors. A line of drying shelves stood against one wall.

    It was just a basement. No hidden treasure, no lurking monsters, no secrets better left uncovered.

    How refreshing.

    The cleaning enchants had dealt with the pests and debris already.

    He spied stairs in the corner.

    There was nothing to see, so he skipped up them, turned a corner, and nearly bumped into a dead end.

    What.

    Krow touched the raw stone, which slid open with a hiss of air and a grinding sound.

    A small roomy before him.

    A preparation table dominated the space, simr to the one at Velinel''s aunt and uncle''s ce in Gremut.

    The stone door closed behind him. It didn''t look like a door at all, more an iid tile mural depicting a night garden.

    He touched the edge.

    The door opened again, to his surprise. Just that easy apparently.

    He stepped away and it closed.

    Aside from the prep table and cabs that lined the walls, there was nothing in the room. He walked to the other end, where a patch of wooden wall was carved, this time a garden in spring.

    The door opened opposite the main doors of the warehouse''s ground level. He walked out, greeted once more by cheery orangemplight.

    The lights in the small ingredient prep room turned off as he exited.

    The door to the prep room was painted in forest scenes, matching the rest of the warehouse walls. If he didn''t pass through it moments before, he wouldn''t know it was there.

    At least it couldn''t be lost, being directly across the front doors as it was.

    Krow sat in the middle of the warehouse space, cross-legged, brought out his Tradebook.

    He''d ordered about half the crates in Nyurajke put on auction to transfer them to his trade-vault, then to his Inventory. Those auctions were about to end.

    The crates in the trade-vault needed to be transferred now.

    Crates appeared around him. Starfall items, monster materials, ethermica, potions.

    He separated the venom sacs from the nighteye caterpirs. The venom needed to be extracted from the sacs soon, or they''d be unstable.

    The potion crates, he sent up to the second floor.

    Eh, he had twenty-five crates of General Antidote? Since when?

    Oh, shkav, he bought those in Gremut. Then forgot them?! They''d havee in handy during his sojourn in the hignd wilds, damnit.

    Was he always this forgetful?

    Definitely not. His memory had always been good.

    An uneasy thought filtered through his mind: did he really think he''d return from death unscathed?

    He shook the thought away.

    So he forgot a few things. No need to think so seriously about it.

    The memory of killing bandits and feeling nothing surfaced from the depths of his mind.

    Oh, now thates up.

    Krow leaned against a crate, stared nkly at a wall.

    Whether instigated by deity or cosmic magic or random chance, he knew there would be a price exacted whether for the transmigration or the time-travel.

    Things like these, even if they were caused by random fluctuations in the fabric of the cosmos, weren''t without effects good and bad.

    Even if the slogan TANSTAAFL didn''t hang from a banner in the Hazelnutsward bistro, he''d never forget what it ultimately meant.

    All gifts were given with strings attached.

    Even if it was random chance that he was back in time, there was still the question of how.

    Something was happening, in the unfathomable depths of the universe.

    Something that sparked certain things to happen.

    A''s destruction.

    A game made real.

    One hundred and fifteen million lives, changed forever.

    Krow always imagined the price would be too big for him to perceive. A cosmic price. He was only a single, simple soul. He didn''t expect that part of the price would be so personal.

    He shook his head, returned his attention to the Tradebook.

    This was still spection.

    There was no reason to jump to conclusions.

    So he was a little more forgetful than before. That was natural. He wasn''t working in corporate anymore and he hadn''t been a student for over a decade. The habit of memorizing had deteriorated.

    He had a Scribe subss, didn''t he? He''d just take more notes.

    For now, he''d keep going as nned.

    Crates from the auction started streaming into his trade-vault.

    His fingers moved fast, slipping the crates and loose items into Inventory and from there to the storage spaces around him.

    His buy-orders had run out of money already, closed.

    In all, the Starfall weapons acquired through buy-order numbered one hundred and five crates, thirty-one crates containing tools of the main craft sses, and eight containing Starfall shirts and trousers.

    That was more than he expected.

    Of the weapon crates, a full fifty were swords of all kinds. Longswords, curved swords, shortswords, greatswords ¨C there were six of the fifteen battle sses able to wield a sword. Though berserkers could only wield swords made of stone.

    Krow ported sixty crates of weapons to Cerkanst, and a third of that number were full of swords. A fourth were poleweapons ¨C ives, spears, halberds, and the like. A fifth were bows. The rest were a collection of daggers, ws, staves, guns, axes, and hammers.

    Twenty crates of Starfall craft tools ¨C mostly knives and mallets, and four crates of Starfall clothing.

    He let his eyes roam over the crates, and could not stop a smile.

    All of these, in the future, would bring him great profit.

    Every single one, a diamond in the rough.

    Though, none of all these helped him with the current problem of gathering RP.

    He nced at his clock.

    It was moonset already.

    What kind of shadow beastsired so close to the Forest?

    It wasn''t yet time to find out.

    But soon.

    He took out his Travelkit,id out the bedroll, andy down.

    He logged out of the game.

 Chapter 82 - The Neighbor From Upstairs

    <em>Rockastre Apartments, the Rocks</em>

    <em>Greatcentral City</em>

    <em>4 p.m. Saturday, Nov, 19, 2095</em>

    *

    Eli sucked down thest dregs of liquid in his waterbottle, entered the elevator to lean against the wall. He wiped the sweat still dripping down his face.

    With the changes in weather, the outdoor park gym had been fitted with removable ss walls. A good thing ¨C he''d been thinking of moving his exercise routine to the martial arts gymnastics studio twenty minutes'' walk away.

    But now, why move?

    The gym studio didn''t have the soothing view of snow-covered bushes and evergreen trees he could see from the park gym.

    The exercising had be easier, a little.

    His body now allowed him an exercise routine of one hour per session without Eli feeling like his muscles were being tortured.

    The weather made it difficult again ¨C because of the cold, all he wanted during exercise time was to curl up with arge nket and massive steaming bowl of meat and noodles.

    He had to force himself to keep it up.

    A better body meant better gamey.

    Eli didn''t detect a lot of change in his body and weight, but he needed a belt for most of his trousers now. That was an aplishment.

    In the mirrored elevator doors, he smiled at himself, patted his stomach.

    The doors chimed and opened.

    Tsk. This elevator didn''t know what it meant to bask in sess.

    He jogged through the hallway.

    His watch beeped. The notification that someone was ringing his doorbell.

    He had that doorbell fixed purely because he missed several deliveries of groceries and had to pay a surcharge each time. He connected the bell to a notification on his game-rig. Delivery people were only expected to wait twenty minutes before docking the one who ordered for wasting their time.

    Eli had no delivery scheduled though.

    Was it Zee, who apparently took it on himself to look in on Eli once a week and had stopped by twice already, or Jori who for some undisclosed reason came over once on his way to Zee''s apartment?

    A woman came into sight.

    For a moment, he thought it was Marai. But he''d seen Marai two weeks ago, and she wasn''t that pregnant.

    He slowed down. Who?

    "I''m sorry," she said immediately when she saw him. "This was just¡­the first ce I thought of, sorry, I''ll go¡ª"

    "¡­Bel?" This was one of his mom''s kids. One of the children she looked after, he meant, since most people in the building couldn''t afford the afterschool programs close by. "No,e in."

    He opened the door.

    "¡­thank you?"

    He smiled at her. "Yeah,e on. Are you supposed to be on your feet? I''ll get you a footstool."

    She flushed. "I''m fine."

    He popped out the cushioned footstool from underneath the armchair seat, waved her to sit down. "Have you eaten?"

    "Oh. No, you don''t have to feed me. I¡­ just needed a moment." She lifted her legs to the footstool and slumped against the back of the armchair.

    She looked despondent, hints of anger at the edges of her eyes.

    Eli lifted two frozen foodpaks from the fridge, showed them to her. "It''s wave-cooked, so no effort."

    "I don''t think I''ll be able to eat that much."

    From the slight paleness as she nced at the foodpaks, Eli tranted that to mean she''d vomit it back up.

    His mom would be disappointed if he neglected one of the children she spent herst days with, though.

    She''d probably forgotten, but she told him once that she and Eli''s father nned to have two children, a boy and a girl. Maybe more. But then Reinhart Crewan died.

    He could not begrudge his mother doting happily on children, fulfilling a part of her dream, at the end of her life.

    He returned the foodpaks and opened the cabs.

    "Cereal? Fortified with protein, vitamins, carbs, fiber. No sugar or trans fats, excellent nutrition."

    The small huff of a stifledugh sounded from behind him. "You should find work in advertisement."

    Wasn''t he already? What was his tour coordinator job, if not marketing? "So it worked?"

    She smiled shyly. "But no milk, please?"

    "Even if you wanted milk, there''s none in this house. Weeping skies, where has the milk gone?" He didn''t normally drink so much milk.

    He tapped a note for milk into a grocery list, added more foodpaks since he only had three in the fridge, and sent the list off to the local grocery. They''d deliver today or tomorrow.

    "So how''ve you been? Last I heard, you were epted into college." At age fourteen, no less.

    "That was years ago," she murmured.

    He nodded. Two years ago. "Nearly graduating, then?"

    He set down a bowl of dry cereal and a mug of hot water near her, went to get his own bowl.

    "I was recently epted into a master''s program, actually."

    "Hah?" Eli quickly calcted. "Didn''t you just enrollst year?"

    Even if she was epted into college at fourteen, thew prohibited higher education institutions from epting students under the age of fifteen. Something about not pressuring the youth.

    "It was just an undergraduate."

    Little girl, an undergraduate took him three years to finish, you know. And he was the one to give the graduation speech.

    Was this what the next generation looked like? Scary.

    A moment of contemtion, then Eli scooped a tub of ice cream into a bowl having a bit of water, ced it in the microwave. Unlike her, he wanted milk in his cereal.

    Once the machine dinged, he poured the ice cream solution into his cereal.

    He sat on one of the kitchen ind stools, scooped a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

    Yum.

    "So. Whye here?" She was Marai''s cousin, and no matter Eli''s reluctance to interact with the woman, she would defend the younger girl fiercely.

    Sometimes when he was on the balcony, the floor directly above, which had four apartments owned by her rtives, rang with arguments that only showcased how much of a roaring lion Marai could be.

    She shrunk a bit into the chair, reluctantly muttered. "Grandpa and Grandma are here."

    Eli understood.

    After all, wasn''t his Great-aunt Am simr?

    The generation of his great-aunt, they thought differently from the current generation. They were brought up in the first half of the 21st century.

    It was a century which was now at its end, having seen great change.

    The elder generation, they believed marriage was necessary for happiness, they advocated the separation of male and female, generally did not believe in abortion, and they deplored teen pregnancy, seeing it as throwing away the future.

    In the first half of the 21st century, a student would be inconvenienced greatly by a pregnancy, yes.

    But these days, distance learning was the norm.

    The human race of 2095 numbered over nine billion.

    There were increasing numbers of students in the halls of various institutions, so one of the first uses of augmented reality was the virtual ssroom, amodating the students who could not fit in a single lecture hall.

    One teacher could, with live-conferencing ssroom technology, reach an audience of thousands in a ''face-to-face'' lecture.

    Most schoolwork these days could be done at home, monitored by educational AI programs.

    A student could even take sses while confined in a maternity hospital.

    Then after the child was born, there were meticulously monitored caregiver cr¨¨ches in every part of the city for busy parents.

    After his father died, Eli himself had spent most of his days in a cr¨¨che until he was old enough for formal school at age six. He remembered it was bright, colorful, and fun.

    "You can stay the night, but inform your parents if you can."

    She was still just sixteen, after all.

    "You''re still in school, right?"

    She nodded, her eyes shed with anger. "Grandma wants me to resign this semester."

    Now that would dent her academic standing. "How long before you need to go to the hospital?"

    She blinked, surprised, then smiled brightly. "Don''t worry, Eli, I''m not stopping my courses. I''m on maternity option. I just need to make up the practicals next semester."

    Well, she appeared to have the situation in hand.

    He gave her the spare tablet, so she didn''t get bored, set the cereal boxes on the counter, and returned to Rends.

 Chapter 83 - The Medicine Girl (1)

    Krow ultimately decided to put off decimating monster nests for now, in favor of vige quests and scouting the surroundingnds.

    Thends below Cerkanst were thankfully not as dramatic as the hignds. Though the peaks were high and the valleys low, they were hills and shallows inparison.

    At least here, in the bordends, his definition of ''mountain'' wasn''t constantly getting updated.

    The semi-official word was that the U Mountains had peaks three times higher than Mount Everest. Amazing. The fact that the king in Velkenbragg didn''t freeze on his throne was proof enough that Zushkenar was a magical world.

    Krow skidded down a rain smoothened boulder and flipped onto a t rock lower down.

    He''d seen what looked like round blue leaves as he was passing by earlier.

    Having scouted now more than twenty kilometers out from Cerkanst, he was more confident that he could gather enough gold for all his ns after the craft update.

    He''d seen a family of Silverbeard Red Martens ying around in the tree branches earlier.

    In a nearby river, an entire shiver of Icetower Riversharks had surfaced briefly, startling him into nearly bing a Krow-shaped snack to a passel of shark pups. He''d nearly forgotten to modify the ce-mark that his Ghostcaller scouts had tagged on the Map.

    He leaned off the t rock.

    Hah, it <em>was</em> Blueshade Roundgrass!

    "Map, mark green, silver." A corresponding mark appeared on the Map, indicating his current location. Green for nt, silver for average profit currently.

    The blue circr leaves were used in several potions of mid-level importance ¨C the General Antidote was one, actually.

    Krow stretched. Should he go further and see what monsters and nts came out at nightfall at this distance from Cerkanst?

    In his explorations, from when he decided to stay in the vige until now, he had five silver-gold nests marked in his map. Silver-gold for good profit.

    He also had two pure gold marks, one nt green, one predator red. Gold for excellent profit.

    Some marks were within violet circles, which indicated the target would only be seen after nightfall.

    So far, Krow didn''t have any marks for the shadowbeasts that came out after moonset.

    He looked toward the cliff.

    If he went back to Cerkanst now, he had time to take a few quests.

    He nodded. Enough exploring for today. He double-jumped for a branch above him, then tree-hopped toward Cerkanst.

    The tree line ended some kilometers before the cliffs that held the vige. It would still take him an hour to return. He threw a grapplehook and flipped over the trunk of a leaning tree. A twist of the wrist and the hook shook free, disappeared back into his Inventory.

    He skated sideways down a moss-covered branch, grinning, used the momentum to fling himself into the air in the direction of the next tree.

    Always so exhrating to let his DEX and Acrobat skills out to y.

    He jumped down the tree branches andnded on a rock. There was a ghost-scouted monster nest nearby that he hadn''t checked out yet.

    Onest nest.

    He stepped into a clearing and saw¡­his eyes widened.

    "Stop!" He yelled the word as quietly as he could.

    The girl paused, hand in the air. When she looked over, he gestured her urgently backward.

    She tilted her head in confusion.

    Since he stepped into the clearing, he didn''t take his eyes off the monsters just standing there casually.

    Long red tops, like chili peppers upside down, thick and squat stems that looked like they were made out of iridescent crystal.

    The whole looking like a bunch of simple mushrooms. At their base, Redsilk Algae spread outward like blood gushing out of the feet of monuments.

    Of course, they weren''t mushrooms.

    Peppercap Toads, also known unofficially as Firework Toads. Because if you disturbed one, the colorful explosion that transpired would be yourst tribute and also the grand farewell of your funeral.

    Twelve peppercaps rose upward.

    Six Toads.

    The girl huffed at his gesturing, still reached to touch the stem.

    Was he going to lose his first life in Rends because someone thought a peppercap toad was <em>shiny</em>?

    "What kind of herbalist are you?!" he whisper-yelled.

    He recognized her. Menrike, his erstwhile guide, who abandoned him cruelly on the streets of Cerkanst after one minute of being a guide.

    She red back. "I have good eyes, aunt said so! What do you, a hunter, know about mushrooms?"

    "Mushrooms!?"

    An amateur herbalist.

    Shkav.

    "Oh," he said in normal tones. "We''re going to die."

    Even if he ran away as fast as he could, once she touched that Toad, its defense mechanism would explode, saturating the forest for kilometers around in a cloud of pretty, sparkling poison.

    That was the fallout if just one woke up.

    But six?

    The girl, who undoubtedly heard him, judging from the small huff she made, ignored him.

    "Menrike," a calm voice, still as a mountainke, sounded. Somehow, it stilled the girl''s advance. "Leave that alone ande here."

    Krow nced to the left briefly, to see a draculkar with eyes fixed on the peppercaps.

    At least someone here knew the danger!

    "But aunt¡­"

    "Now, child."

    Menrike sighed, turned around.

    This was one way to give him an appreciation of how draculkar were only officially adult when they reached the age of twenty-five. Despite her height, Menrike was, in human terms, a pre-teen.

    He would appreciate the detail gone into each characterter, as the contrast with the responsibility of the younger Talebrech was curious.

    Right now, there were more important concerns.

    Krow didn''t take his eyes off the mushrooms. Menrike was now passing close to thest of the ones arrayed in the clearing.

    He started to breathe.

    Then Menrike slipped.

    "Child!"

    Krow double-jumped forward, grabbed Menrike by the arm. He used the momentum of her fall and another double-jump to twist mid-air and throw her toward her aunt.

    In the same motion, he brought out all the Paralyzing Mist Vials he could and broke all of them.

    He only had Minor Vials. Peppercap Toads were not one-serpens monsters. He broke more.

    He brought out hisst crate and kicked it open. Ten Vials, twenty.

    The air filled with paralyzing mist.

    In the shadow of those peppercaps that were the ears of each monster, Krow saw up close how the Toads woke up.

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Note:

    Please don''t copy and post on other sites.

    If you see this work on other websites, know that the author Jin Daoran posts exclusively on webnovel(dot.. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 84 - The Medicine Girl (2)

    Under each red peppercap, a crack formed, seeping a red glow and a bloody substance.

    The Toad''s symbiosis with the redsilk algae gave the color of their peppercaps while ''stoking the furnace'' within their bodies, as Fin once described the red-orange glow of the Toad''s eyes.

    Those eyes were a timer.

    As long as the eyes didn''t fully open, Krow had time.

    They were lucky that Peppercap Toads were stone-element-natured. They slumbered until something woke them, then their retaliation was overkill.

    He learned from the warren of shotbark rabbits that, despite having the effect halved on monsters above Lvl 10, the numbing properties of Minor Paralyzing Mist Vials stacked as long as the mist wasn''t allowed to disspate.

    [Peppercap Toad Lvl 37]

    [HP: 10 000][MP: 200]

    Haha.

    A bit desperate, Krow triggered Shadowbind.

    Sess.

    [0:00:00:14]

    <em>Just fifteen seconds?</em>

    Gah, he''ll take it.

    Krow cracked more mist vials.

    The breeze wafted a sweet scent past his nose. Krow quickly nced behind. That scent was¡­

    Yes, Menrike''s aunt had lit a mound of fresh Tasseline Verdant Herb and was sending the smoke toward him. Or toward the Toads, rather.

    It wasn''t the first time he''d smelled that cloying sweet burned scent.

    <em>Minor Paralysis. Minor Poison. Minor Befuddlement.</em>

    -1% HP.

    He grimaced at the status warnings.

    But whoa, that aunt, she went all out.

    He could appreciate the thought. They were this close to death, so why not take this small chance that would either kill them on their own terms or save them?

    Tasseline Verdant Herb could be smoked.

    Like opium.

    And like opium, it had simr effects on the body.

    Krow''s mask could mitigate some of the effects, but an overdose of this magnitude?

    Tasseline Verdant Herb was soporific, used in anesthetics and the yer-made Slumberbomb potion. The Slumberbomb, in fact, took Peppercap Powder from the Toads as one of its ingredients.

    He paused in opening Mist vials to drink a Fool''s Antidote.

    [0:00:09:58]

    His HP started dropping, but the debuffs due to Paralyzing Mistbining with the Herb smoke disappeared. Fool''s Antidotested ten minutes in scenarios of continuous poisoning, and he''d get a notification if his HP dropped under 75%.

    Still, their efforts weren''t doing anything.

    The Toad''s eyes were still widening.

    He gestured to the draculkar to make more smoke, triggered Shadowbind again.

    [Extend?]

    "Yes!"

    Normally, Spells triggered and created a single effect, like Double-jump. But some Spells, like Firecoil, could be extended in duration as long as MP was fed to it. It appeared Shadowbind needed ¨C he flickered an eye to his stats ¨C 50% mastery to gain the ability to extend the spell effects.

    It didn''t help that much. After using Shadowbind twice, he had little MP left.

    It only added up to twenty seconds.

    Twenty seconds that he kept filling the air with Paralyzing Mist.

    Then, incredibly, the slivers of glowing red under the tall peppercap earhorns of the Toad started to wane and dim.

    The Toad''s eyelids slowly fell, each increment a boost of hope in Krow''s heart.

    Krow tossed more Mist vials at the foot of the Toad, ced thest of the crate in his Inventory, and carefully backed away.

    His boots slid, making him il for bnce before he could get a purchase on the algae-covered ground.

    The redsilk algae was as smooth and fine as its namesake.

    He jumped to avoid the wash of red spreading from the grove of ''mushrooms''.

    The Peppercap Toad''s eyes closed fully.

    Only then did he shakily exhale his relief.

    He gestured to the two draculkar at the edge of the clearing.

    Together, they ran.

    They didn''t stop until they got to the waterfall pool below Cerkanst.

    Krow dug his hands in a naturally-formed basin of water and sshed handfuls on his face.

    "I...I''m sorry."

    Krow nced up, to the penitent Menrike.

    Her aunt had set her straight it seemed.

    "I''m sorry I didn''t listen."

    He nodded, feeling the sincerity of her apology.

    Even if her behavior was that of a spoiled child, it looked like she was a good kid.

    "I won''t wander off anymore and I''ll be more careful."

    Krow sighed. He patted her on the head. "The Grandshield Forest is full of dangers, alright? Listen to your aunt."

    "Mm! Here!" She grabbed his hand, dropped two potion vials in it. "They''re Low Heal potions I made. Since you''re a hunter, you can use them, right?"

    Krow stared at the vials for a long moment.

    He turned his eyes to the aunt, who was looking toward Cerkanst with the solemnity of seeing a hometown after having escaped certain death. But Krow saw the brief upward curl of amusement to her lips; don''t think he didn''t notice!

    He seriously reconsidered his forgiveness.

    If he said he didn''t forgive her, then he shouldn''t have to drink these, right?

    Low Heal was not supposed to look like it was drool from the maw of a hellbeast.

    Heal potions were a healthy vivid red.

    The potion in the vials was ck with red flecks, looking like rotten blood and bile.

    His hand shed out, grabbed the monster casually hanging from a low branch.

    Pygmy Slothcat, Common, the size and long-haired furry adorability of a Siberian housecat, useless for ingredients, but very useful when keeping pest animals and insects away from a garden.

    It protested in his arms, with cries that sounded like a rubber duck being squeezed.

    "It''s so adorable!" Menrike skipped closer, eyes wide and shiny in fascination.

    Krow fed her Low Heal to it, trapping the slothcat against his chest.

    "What are you doing? Is it sick?"

    He let the slothcat go.

    It jumped onto the small branches of a shrub, hissing furiously at them. It attempted to climb, in the fastest way a slothcat could, but then it stilled.

    It fell off the bush, its entire body frozen in the pose of climbing.

    "It''s sick now." Krow shrugged.

    The slothcat''s limbs rxed.

    Menrike looked like she was about to cry, staring at the slothcat.

    "We better dispose of it properly." Krow nodded as thest dregs of life left the monster. "It died fairly fast. The body might be poisonous."

    She looked at him, pale. Her tears turned into a re. "You! I made up my mind not to me you for throwing me away so far but--"

    "Better bury it deeply," the aunt interrupted serenely. "So it couldn''t be dug up."

    "Aunt?!"

    "We take responsibility for the things we create, my niece." She patted the girl''s arm, turned to Krow. "Thank you for your care this day. You call yourself Krow, yes?"

    He bowed, smiled. "I do. I''m sure we have not met, or I''d remember you,dy...?"

    Menrike blinked at him, aghast. "Are you...are you flirting with my aunt? She''s older than you by two hundred years!"

    "Two hundred? Are you certain it isn''t two decades?" Krow lifted his brows in surprise.

    The auntughed, eyes crinkling.

    "Ugh. I''m leaving. Aunt, I''ll take your basket." She stomped away.

    "Perhaps you would apany us to the vige head''s office, young one?"

    "It wouldn''t be a hardship," Krow agreed. "But I still don''t know your name."

    The older woman smiled. "Jamutaltei bal Thaunal."

    ....eh?

 Chapter 85 - The Medicine Girl (3 Of 3)

    From the look on Menrike''s face and the amusement on Gysavur bal Thaunal''s, she''d tattled her woes to her apparent grandfather.

    The vige head was grateful that Krow had intervened.

    [You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:Stop the Medicine Girl!:|</strong> gaining +10 Experience Points, +7 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Escape a Toad</em>, within 30 minutes, gaining +5 Experience Points, +3 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Survive a Healing</em>, gaining +5 Experience Points, +3 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Grandfather''s Worry</em>, gaining +5 Experience Points, +3 Silver Serpens!]

    <strong>[You''ve gained 5 RP in Cerkanst Vige!]</strong>

    <strong>[Quest Completion: A]</strong>

    Great!

    Quests involving the vige head gave him 5 RP every time.

    The average viger quest gave him only 2 RP, and only if the quest wasn''t that easy.

    "Krow, stay a moment." Gysavur waited until his daughter and granddaughter closed the doors to his office, brought out a bottle of wine, poured them both a ss.

    The old draculkar sat behind his desk, swirling the wine slowly, letting the red liquid idly cling to the sides of the ss.

    "My son left to join the Guardhouse in Velkenbragg, sponsored by his mother''s family. He''s raised his children as dwellers of a city. I''d like to thank you again, for preventing her mistake from ending badly."

    Krow coughed slightly, remembering that he''d pitched the old guy''s granddaughter through the air carelessly, like an old softball.

    He hid his embarrassment in a sip of wine.

    "I was raised in a city too," he assured the vige head, "and remember well how difficult it was when I¡­first started traveling. The amount of times I came close to death in the first month alone is, looking back, slightly concerning."

    He''d just seen Greatcentral City destroyed by the forces of unrelenting nature. Waking as StrawmanScare ¨C a different ce, a different time, a different face ¨C had been terrifying.

    Alone, terrified, unknowing ¨C and ovepensating for everything.

    A city dweller, in very rural Cerkanst, learning that her city values were very different from the values of those of her father''s n¡­he could understand Menrike''s behavior.

    Gysavur nodded, looking out the window, eyes far away. "n Thaunal has always been small. There was a long, lonely time when it was just my mother and I, then just me. Three grandchildren. That is the future of Thaunal."

    Krow drank his wine.

    It was surprisingly delicate, but still full-bodied. A light wine by draculkar standards, pleasing to most ptes, not overwhelming, almost nd.

    In Zushkenar, he''d have said it was something for the negotiation table, but this was Rends.

    He studied the old draculkar.

    Would behavior so subtle exist yet?

    "You came here to hunt, as you''ve said. You''ve been heading out into the outskirts of the Forest almost every day since you came. I wonder, could you stand a few days away from the monsters of Cerkanst?"

    "You need a hunter elsewhere?"

    "I need a draculkar who knows how to use a weapon."

    "Oh?"

    Shkav, was someone hiring him as an assassin again?

    What was with venerable old men and needing assassins? Did all the old people in Rends grow old because of their regr employment of assassins? Scary thought.

    "I''d like to hire you as a guard for the herb delivery to Rakaens."

    Oh.

    Not as an assassin then.

    "Herb delivery?"

    Gysavur smiled sad and proud both. "The herbalists of Cerkanst may be diminished, but the reputation has remained over the centuries. A number of apothecaries in town swear by Cerkanst herbs. You can sell your monster materials at the apothecaries there as well."

    Krow didn''t need to. He had a Tradebook.

    "What do you say?" Gysavur raised his brows at Krow.

    "It would be a pleasure."

    It really would.

    No wine or coaxing needed, really. But it was appreciated.

    The quest notification pinged his eptance.

    Krow had been meaning to visit the town of Rakaens soon.

    Still¡­

    "Will your regr guards work with me?"

    Gysavur looked amused. "A group of farmers, doing nothing more than heading to market, is innocuous enough in these mountains."

    "You had no guards before." Krow was a little incredulous. The Tasseline Verdant Herb alone ¨C a cartful was worth more than the average Zushkenariborer saw in a year.

    And in the ck market? It was worth enough to make even a Bloodcrow take notice.

    All this time, they were using the ruse of farmers to hide a small fortune in herbs?

    That <em>worked</em>?

    "It was unneeded. But there are increasing reports of bandits from letters of people I know. I am afraid even simple farmers'' carts will not pass the roads unmolested."

    Krow nodded.

    Increasing amounts of bandits meant the wars were picking up in intensity, driving more people out of their homes to banditry.

    The mercenary bands that were guilds were already plotting deeply with various people in power; factions were created and destroyed in a day.

    The kingdoms were fracturing at the edges.

    In the halls of power, people were starting to panic. Chaos approached.

    How long before the wars came to peaceful Cerkanst?

    The border viges here were really in a fortunate location ¨C the Forest protected them from the kingdoms in the foothills and the swamps, and they were kilometers away from a main road or anything important.

    Krow thought it was unlikely that this area would be embroiled inrge scale battles. But war was unpredictable. Who knew what quests were out there?

    Even these isted viges wouldn''t be able toe out of the wars unscathed.

    "Don''t worry, vige head," Krow said when Gysavur looked slightly concerned at his silence. "I will get the herbs and your family to Rakaens, and all of them will return to Cerkanst."

    Gysavur''s eyes crinkled pleasantly. "You understand."

    Old man, you talked a lot, you know, Krow mentallyined. If he didn''t understand those veryrge hints, what use was his brain?

    The only reason the draculkar would talk so much about family before giving him the quest was because Jamutaltei and Menrike were both going to be part of the delegation delivering the herbs.

    Krow left the tower, walked down the Cerkanst main street.

    The herb delivery was leaving tomorrow at first light.

    One more quest, he decided, before logging out.

    The main trade shops were in Khoyresk tower, so the street was full of workshops ¨C bulk unprocessed nts and nt parts like roots, flowers, buds, leaves; edible herbs both fresh and preserved; cosmetics and soaps; herbal oils and herbal solutions.

    The herb trade in Cerkanst was livelier than he expected.

    Considering the words of both Buri and Maga, even a semi-lively herb trade was not enough to keep the youth from trickling outside the vige to look for better prospects.

    How long would it be until those same leaving youth came back to escape the escting conflicts? Or until the youth still in the vige left for the different armies and never returned?

    Krow looked up.

    The skies, from horizon to horizon, were a clear brilliant burning blue.

 Chapter 86 - You Can Stay As Long As You Like!

    Eli lifted the headgear off, sighed as hey back against the gently massaging cushions on the bio-cradle.

    He''d only managed two quests before Buri dragged him into a drinking game the whole tavern bet on. He didn''t refuse. RP was one thing, actual interaction was another ¨C the forums in hisst life said both helped with quests.

    He lost, and Buri gleefully made him pay for a mound of grilled skewers.

    Apparently the tavern currently had a special on premium shotbark rabbit meat.

    The dizzy drunkenness of yet another drinking night was gone the moment he logged out.

    Interaction and integration.

    It was an on-going theme in Rends, immersing a yer deeper and deeper into the world. No wonder the elites of the game adjusted the fastest after the Quake.

    Eli had to wonder what Orven Norge was thinking, to build Rends as he did. Other VR games were popr without the immersion that Rends required from their yers.

    He sat up, felt the sudden chill in the air.

    He nced at the wall. In his sight the fuzzy glowing numbers read 9:28 p.m.

    Did he forget to adjust the bedroom temperature? He wore shirt and trousers only in the bio-cradle and it was November.

    He tapped the wall twice, bringing up the apartment statistics.

    290.25 Kelvin.

    Gah. No wonder he was freezing.

    He upped the temperature to 300 Kelvin, the rmended temp for long periods in the bio-cradle. It made for a horrific electricity bill, especially with the power the bio-cradle used.

    Tsk. VR really was a yground for the rich.

    He put on his sses, walked out of the room in shirt, trousers, and fuzzy socks.

    "Hm?"

    The crystal ss panel monitor was alight.

    Oh. He''d nearly forgotten. "Shouldn''t you be in bed?"

    "I tried. Can''t sleep." Bel was wrapped up in a nket, tablet and stylus in her hands, with eyes focused on the panel monitor. "Your groceries came."

    Eli nodded, yawning.

    He''d gotten the notification when he was still scouting the Forest. He opened the box, set on the kitchen ind. "Can you eat vegetarian?"

    Some of the cereal in the transparent box had been eaten, but not much.

    She looked vaguely ufortable, but answered. "Sure."

    He microwaved two foodpaks.

    Chugged down a ss of warm water, prepared two mugs of hot water.

    Since he''d sold off all his canned drinks, he hadn''t bothered buying more. He''d be used to juice, tea, and alcohol in Zushkenar.

    He''d sworn off the alcohol (mostly). He''d tried buying juice and tea. He trashed them; the ''all-natural'' products in his price range had a tinge of artificiality he''d never detected before.

    So these days, he drank water.

    Bel sat down across from him as he set down the ready foodpaks.

    "Tonight''s dinner is¡­mixed vegetable stir-fry with rice noodles and ck bean lemon sauce." Eli lifted his brow at the cover sleeve, continued, " ''Guaranteed Vegan!'' ording to this. ''All the vitamins and minerals for a healthier you!''"

    Bel took the cover sleeve, wrinkled her nose. "Where do you get these things?"

    "We can''t all make things from raw." He''d learned to make stew in Zushkenar, which was basically put things in a pot with water and let the hot coals do the work. He was a fair hand at the grill. Otherwise, meh.

    The foodpaks were still the one-star Michelin-rated versions. He''d tried cheaper ones but again, like the juice, his tastebuds rejected them.

    Illogical, he griped silently, it''s not as if his tongue came back with him from Zushkenar!

    But the whole travel to other worlds and back was also illogical, so Eli just epted that his budget had to be adjusted for arger food bill.

    The food at least was delicious.

    His fork paused in mid-air, as he processed the familiar image on the panel monitor. "Is that my monastery?"

    Bel perked up. "It''s yours? I couldn''t find it anywhere on the, so I guess you made it? Is it for a movie? The logistics of nning traffic in a limited environment is actually pretty cool, like a puzzle."

    Eli watched the tourists, represented by 3D upside down exmation points, move smoothly through the barebones model monastery.

    Certainly more smoothly than any n he''de up with.

    On foot, in carriages, in rickshaws, each stop and rest choreographed like a conductor setting the flow of a river to music. Probably not so exact in real life, but still.

    He turned to her. "What was your major again?"

    "Uh¡­" She blinked at the unexpected intensity of his question. "Architecture. Sustainablendscape and structure technology, specifically."

    "Huh." Eli looked at the solved problem on the modeler program again, then beamed a grin at her. "You can stay as long as you want!"

    Imagine it. For only three to five meals a day plus amodation, his unexpectedly time-consuming job would be minimal effort!

    "Um, what?"

    "This is what I do for work."

    "Oh!" She looked a bit guilty. "Is it confidential?"

    "You didn''t post it online, did you?"

    "No! The construction''s just so pretty, I wanted to see it in real life. I ran it through a search. It should be amazing. Actual stone and wood, instead of concrete and durablocks." She sighed happily at the thought. Then sighed again, resigned. "It would be impossible to build these days."

    With conservation efforts directed at all the forests, and even stone quarries, that was true.

    "The building''s in Rends, actually, Amvard continent. Part of RSI''s new virtual tourism program. It''s still in beta, so don''t spread it around."

    "Yes. Sorry for going through your stuff."

    "No, it''s fine."

    "So this is a fantasy building? For that game Marai is ying. What is it you do, exactly?"

    "Virtual tour coordinator."

    Sheughed.

    "Hey, at least I''m not getting excited over traffic patterns!" Because seriously, who did that?

    "Okay, no need to get rude." She still had a grin on her face though. "What''s the monastery for then?"

    "A meditation retreat."

    "Oh!" She eyed the modeler program specifically. "So that''s what the long rest times in various parts of the buildings were?"

    "Mm." Eli crunched on the vegetables.

    "Those cliffs, you can even use them for falling meditation."

    Eli paused.

    Fall meditation was something that extreme sports enthusiasts first came up with. It was basically jumping from a long height and using the fall to empty the mind.

    Huh. This investment of one meal was paying dividends already.

    He tapped a message to Jori.

    "I need someone to help me with modeling tour patterns. This traffic and simr things." He told Bel. "If you need a ce to stay after tonight, I can offer free food and rent for your help."

    "I''ll¡­think about it."

    Eli could see she was considering it, so didn''t pressure her more.

    He went to bed happily.

    A future with less head-ache inducing work approached!

    He passed by the open door of his mother''s bedroom. Even now, he imagined he could smell that flowery scent, even though he''d cleared out his mother''s things.

    Would that change, if he allowed someone to use the room?

    "I can sleep on the couch, you know."

    He didn''t know what his face looked like, for her to say that. But he smiled. "She would be a ghost and yell at us both if you did that."

    She always said the living came before the dead. He''d forgotten, for a while.

    Belughed, more like a long exhale. "Sounds like her."

    Less giddy than before, he entered his room, dropped on the bed. He tossed his sses on the headboard shelf, flung an arm over his eyes.

    He slept.

 Chapter 87 - Rakaens (1)

    The town of Rakaens was built on a butte on top of a ridge.

    It dominated a small river valley studded with stone pirs, set against a backdrop of high snowy mountains.

    The main attraction, for Krow, was the massive hanging bridge that was the main entrance to the town. The bridge was made by the living roots of a tree nted on the mountainside.

    "Hookfig trees," Jamutaltei informed her niece and Krow, who was pacing their cart on a mule.

    A caravan guard, on a mule.

    Not even an old nag of a horse.

    Not even a war mule.

    Krow felt he could not hold up the name of a caravan guard like this, so he called himself the primary designated weapon-carrier instead.

    After Gysavur''s concerns, there was no way the others weren''t armed.

    The green-spine mule, ording to the stableman in Cerkanst, was called Bluebeard.

    It wasn''t blue. It had no beard.

    The draculkar refused to tell him the reason for the name, but said it was the best mule they had.

    Krow bowed to his expertise.

    "They were deliberately nted here for this specific purpose," Menrike''s aunt continued, "The lord of Rakaens at the time, when Rakaens still had a lord, was aligned to the floral element. He wanted a bridge he could attack with."

    Practical.

    Krow nodded in appreciation. A floral-element-aligned high-level mage could easily hold enemies hostage on the living-root bridges, and use the trees themselves to protect the citizens.

    Apart from the main bridge, there were other root-bridges radiating from the ridge the town was on toward some of the pirs. There were houses on top of therger rock formations, and¡­a Temple?

    They moved closer to Rakaens, and Krow saw the horizontally bisected circle, dark against the pale sandstone of the Temple doors.

    It was the simple symbol of Pravdakyr of Destruction, the Truthseer. Pravdakyr was usually depicted as a golden dragon with closed eyes, blind.

    The isted nature of the Temple was now understandable.

    Pravdakyr Temples were temples of judges and advocates. Not every town had one permanently and, from stories he heard, there were instances that the temples cropped up mysteriously in a town or vige only to disappear after some time.

    Presumably after solving some injustice or mystery or other.

    They weren''t very weed, mostly because the advocates of Pravdakyr would interpret thew creatively. And no matter what was fair, they searched for Truth above all, rather than simple justice.

    For a temple of the Truthseer to seem rooted in Rakaens, said very interesting things about the history of the town.

    The eight full farmer''s carts from Cerkanst, pulled by a motley collection of mertail goats, white-dappled bulls, and a couple of dusky donkeys, clopped onto the massive woven-root bridge.

    The deck of the bridge was surfaced in wooden nks ¨C not living, disappointingly.

    It was eight metres wide, in two parts. The first part of the bridge spanned the 80 metres from the mountainside to a pir that held another hookfig tree, woven roots of two trees tangling together.

    From that pir the second part of the bridge reached toward a massive twenty-metre tall stone gate, well over a hundred metres away.

    "Rakaens in a free town," murmured Jamutaltei, at her niece''s question. "But it once held a great fortress. The Sun-gate and the Rosetower are all that remains of that stronghold."

    It looked like it was Menrike''s first time in the town as well.

    Krow assumed the Rosetower was the single pale-colored cred tower that rose like a crowned sentinel on the butte, majestic, the other towers deliberately built lower on the formation to keep it in prominence.

    The town wasrger than both Karukorm and Baaturik, with eleven towers in all.

    Krow hadn''t realized earlier that it was a major town.

    But now, from the traffic on the bridge alone¡­

    If this wasn''t a fantasy world, he''d be scared stiff imagining the weight of all those carriages and wagons on a hanging bridge.

    Like most towns and viges he''d seen nearer the border of the draculkar nation, Rakaens had a proliferation of non-tower buildings.

    A sh of motion caught his eye.

    A formunched from a pir in the valley below.

    A galedrifter!

    There was a whole stable ¨C he recognized the tforms built into the pir. His gaze lingered.

    To fly again on a galedrifter, he couldn''t wait.

    "The pirs are carved," he noted in surprise.

    Jamutaltei nodded. "The House of Darvd was a prominent house, and the histories of its members are carved into the stone around the town."

    "There are houses carved there too, aunt!"

    Krow tapped his knee against the mule''s nks, to move closer to the woven rails of the bridge.

    "Rakaens rules over the whole of the valley. This is thest major town in this area before the vargvir londs."

    Menrike wrinkled her nose at her aunt''s exnation. "That''s why it''s so defensible?"

    Krow blinked, nced briefly at the girl.

    It was not an observation he expected a spoiled miss to make.

    He knew the history between vargvir and draculkar to be contentious, but it appears the backstories were colorful enough that a child raised in a hignd city, the capital and safest city no less, was taught enough to understand the need for defense in a bordend town?

    They moved under the Sun-gate ¨C the single opening was twice wider than the root-bridge. On the structure, above the entrance, were windows. Defenders could decimate any enemy fortunate enough to reach the gates, with dropping rocks alone.

    Past the Sun-gate, the main market square wasrge, centered on a fountain topped with carved marble statues of two draculkar, male and female, armed and martial in demeanor.

    Krow slowed the mule''s pace, making certain the carts were all ounted for.

    Huh, that was easy. Why can''t horses be as easy to ride as a mule? He patted Blue''s neck.

    When he reached thest cart, he paced the speed of the carts again.

    "We''re going past the market," he noticed. "Are we not staying in the caravansaries there?"

    Hch, the owner of the field Krow destroyed while fighting a Silverstripe Tasseline Serpent, drove thest wagon.

    At hearing Krow, he chuckled. "The vige head has a friend in town who lends us a small courtyard every time wee by. It''s safer than a spot in arge caravansary. We''ll rest there for today and do business tomorrow."

    Even though they started from Cerkanst at first light, it had taken eleven hours to reach the town. Sunset was only a few hours away.

    To reach their amodation, they had to traverse a smaller root-bridge to a pir closer to the town than the others. It had a tower on the summit, surrounded by six or seven residential buildings, and stairs spiraling down the pir to another set of houses and gardens below.

    They entered one of the wooden gates to arge house, moving to a smaller courtyard on the side.

    "Ah, Jamultaltei!" The moment the cart train was inside, a voice boomed from a doorway. "You havee again, I see, to enliven this old one''s tedious days!"

    "I am happy to be an enlivening point in your dreary retirement life, uncle," stated the draculkar woman in her usual reserved tones.

    The draculkarughed. "As usual, so polite! Why don''t I have a daughter like you, eh? What do you say, leave that dour old prune''s side ande live with your uncle!"

    "I would be d to."

    "Really?" The old draculkar blinked.

    "Provided you survive the inevitable fight to the death that will ur when fatheres to im kidnapping."

    "Tchah! That humorless bore would really do it. " He eyed the younger draculkar woman, amused. "You''d do it too, being his daughter. Haha!"

    "I''ll thank you for thepliment, uncle."

    "Oho?" He noticed Menrike looking at him with wide eyes. "And who is this?"

    "My niece."

    "And I also definitely do not want to live with you!" Menrike stated immediately.

    "Menrike."

    "Uh, but I will be ttered, I''m sure..." Menrike backtracked. "If ever you offer."

    Krow tried not tough.

    The host blinked, quivered, then bawled loudly and clutched at his heart. "Agh, the pain! Am I so irredeemable, cursed to never have a little girl descendant?"

    Their wee was warm.

    The host immediately served spiced iced tea to all the twenty-three people who came to Rakaens, bid them all wee with a booming voice.

    Hch nudged Krow. "You''ve not been to Rakaens before, yes? Look."

    The stones of the Rosetower, bathed in the light of the sunset, glowed a pale red color delicately distinct against the vividness of the dying day.

    Krow smiled, delighted.

    Wee to Rakaens.

 Chapter 88 - Rakaens (2)

    "Young guest, you are heading out?"

    The asker was a slightly hunched draculkar, appearing out from the shadow of the gate. The symbolic key hanging from his belt indicated he was a gatekeeper.

    "The night is young," Krow affirmed blithely. "Where can I buy scribe''s tools in Rakaens?"

    "The schr''s street is under Rormessk."

    Krow vaguely understood while he was in Nyurajke, that the towers were numbered how far they were from the First, the administrative tower. The prestige of each tower wasmensurate to how close they were to the First.

    That was why Buri''s family apartments and tavern, in the Khoyresk, the second tower of Cerkanst, said something about the prestige of their family in the vige.

    Rormessk would be the third tower.

    He assumed the First Tower of Rakaens to be the Rosetower.

    Which other tower could it be?

    "And the bank?"

    The gatekeeper grunted, thinking. "Cyzarkka has Zurganesk, Essax is Najmessk, and Dunmervin has a branch in Esravesk."

    The Sixth, Eighth, and Tenth towers respectively.

    Hah!

    He''d learned the numbers when researching Cerkanst. He remembered.

    What forgetfulness?

    "Take this, young guest," The gatekeeper handed Krow a pendant. "It will get you through the outer protections, and alert a gatekeeper to assist."

    Krow thanked the draculkar, looping the pendant over his head and tucking it under his shirt. With a smile and a wave, he headed out, passing under the low shade of the hookfig tree.

    For a tree with such long taproots, it didn''t grow that tall.

    The root-bridge connecting the pir to the town proper was twenty metres long and three metres wide.

    Krow felt it sway under him gently as he sauntered toward the town.

    Rakaens at night, he noted, was quite pretty.

    The streetlights he could see on the main streets and viaducts were a warm orange-yellow. There were stonenterns everywhere, in every size, in multiple colors, illuminating the stone art of Rakaens.

    The delicate crystal murals he''d seen in Gremut and Nyurajke were made of colored stone tiles here, and there were more statues and carved reliefs embellishing the towers and walls.

    The sturdy d¨¦cor of the town, in multicolored stone, stood vivid and mysterious in the light of shadowednterns.

    Below, in the forest of pirs, smaller lights twinkled, a cloud of distant fireflies.

    Krow counted the towers.

    The Eighth tower and the EYTC affiliated bank, Essax, was closer. He grabbed a passerby. "What level of Najmessk is Essax Bank?"

    The passerby brushed him off. "It is Najmessk."

    Eh?

    That was just parroting the gatekeeper.

    When he reached the Eighth tower, he understood.

    The Essax bank took up the entire tower, all ten floors and one hundred meters of it.

    One of the guards in the EYTC caravan said only Cyzarkka Bank, the royal bank, was allowed in the draculkar hignds. Apparently in the bordends, the outsider banks enjoyed only slightly less prestige.

    Not too far away, the Sixth tower stood, undoubtedly wholly integrated with Cyzarkka Bank.

    Only eleven towers, and two were subsumed by banks?

    Rakaens must see a lot of foreign trade.

    He looked toward the Tenth tower. Unlike the other two, the lights in the Tenth were livelier.

    More businesses?

    The Dunmervin Trade Bank, attached to the Council that ruled Duryndon Gate-City, had only a minor branch in town then.

    Despite Dunmervin having the strongest trade and political backing of the three, Krow decided on the other two.

    In research from hisst life, the Dunmervin bank offered generally conservative and moderate-risk investments in equity and debt, while Essax had more aggressive offerings for both passive and active investors.

    He didn''t know how Cyzarkka operated, but he imagined it was simr to Dunmervin. It had the added draw that Krow expected most of his ns to take ce in the draculkar nation.

    Draculkar avatar, draculkar nation, draculkar bank.

    There should be perks, right?

    The game creators wouldn''t have created a bank that had too many problems anyway.

    He entered the front hall of the Eighth tower.

    Despite it being already nightfall, the front hall of the bank hummed with business.

    "Wee! What might Essax Bank do for you?" The siren greeter smiled brightly.

    "I''d like to open an ount."

    "Certainly!" The greeter led him to a second hall, a quieter ce full of clerks working on massive ount books inrge cubicles. All the clerks on the lower floor were upied, so the greeter led him up the stairs to the mezzanine. "Ah, here we are. This is Ogdei bal Togosem, one of our ount keepers."

    The clerk looked up, stood politely, and closed his ount book. "Good evening. Thank you, A."

    "Of course!" The greeter smiled at them both and left.

    "Young sir, you are here to make an ount? Please sit. How may I call you?"

    "s Krow," he introduced. Then added btedly, "bal Yulsukh. In addition, I wish to connect an Orddet''s ount to this bank."

    "Of course. Which catalogue?"

    "The Infinite Bourse."

    The clerk nodded. "I''ll need your name papers, Orddet''s documentation, and your trade token, please."

    Opening an ount for the Yulsukh name and linking it to his Orddet''s ount was a simple thing. When it came to the first deposit, though.

    Krow currently had in his Inventory, 476 drax and 11,327 serpens.

    The minimum ount to gain a premier ount was 500 drax.

    "I don''t suppose you''d take ethermica cubes?"

    The clerk only paused briefly. "Certainly, but we''d need an appraiser." He waved down a passing messenger boy and quietly gave instructions.

    Krow waited until the boy ran off. "The rate?"

    "Nine drax a cube."

    No way. "Ten and a half. They''re worth twelve and six in the Bourse right now."

    Krow brought out 200 cubes.

    The clerk inclined his head, nodded at the human who entered the cubicle. He pressed something on his desk, which widened it considerably.

    The appraiser took out a steampunk-styled loupe and bent over each cube, cing them on a circr scale, then flicking them to another end of the table when done. This was done so rapidly that barely a minute passed to appraise two hundred cubes.

    The appraiser straightened, nodded.

    "Ten and a half drax," agreed the clerk, smiling at Krow. "Two thousand one hundred drax for two hundred ethermica cubes."

    "I''d like to exchange these, as well." Krow brought out another two hundred cubes.

    The clerk nced at the appraiser, who started his work again.

    Krow watched with an internal sigh. He was running through ethermica fast, and he hadn''t started enchanting yet.

    Five minutes, and Krow was walking out of the bank, his on-hand cash supplemented by 2100 drax.

    His Orddet''s ount now permanent, Krow was relieved. There was only two days until the thirty day limit Ynve had given him.

    He could reactivate it from the Orddet''s branch in town, but how much again would that cost?

    He headed toward Cyzarkka Bank, to open another ount.

    When he did, though, the opening conditions were different. "A thousand drax? That''s a bit much, isn''t it?"

    The draculkar clerk shrugged helplessly. "I am only a clerk, young sir. I cannot change bank policy."

    Krow thought to make an ount in the name Osmiorni, for 500 drax.

    But so suddenly, it doubled just like that?

    The premier ount in Cyzarkka had 1000 drax as a minimum opening.

    He paid it,menting.

    One thousand drax wasn''t a small amount. Right now, only elite yers had earned that much savings just from the game. It was half his living expenses for a month!

    But why would he need a premier ount?

    Legitimacy, basically.

    There were a few good investments in Zushkenar that were not offered unless a bank customer ticked off a few requirements.

    In Essax bank, a year with a standard ount or a year with a premier ount. Of course, the investment offerings to standard and premier had different profit tiers.

    Like in his Essax ount, he invested 100 drax with Cyzarkka.

    Again, just for future legitimacy.

    Investment offerings in banks gave too low interest, and he didn''t want to tie up his capital in a bank when he still needed cash.

    When Krow''s goals were met and he was secure, only then would he settle his savings in bank investments and live off the interest!

    Like an actual rich person!

    Until then, he had to slog through monster carcasses to build up that fortune.

    Heading for the area under the Third tower that the gatekeeper called schr''s street, Krow''s interest was piqued by arge butcher shop.

    Oh, right.

    He did need to clear his Inventory of meat.

 Chapter 89 - Rakaens (3)

    The butcher stared at Krow.

    Krow stared back.

    Between them was about 4000 kg of monster meat.

    And two unbutchered thunder-badgermole carcasses.

    Krow smiled his best smile. "Mastercrafter, what are the requirements for being a student here?"

    The butcher snorted. He eyed the meat. "The cutting technique is average. Why should I take you on?"

    Average?!.

    His Knife Handling was 100% mastery! Which other fresh wright would have mastered such a skill so thoroughly?

    "Average?" he asked mildly.

    "That snakemeat, tchah. Amateur. And those windrats? Did you use a hook to butcher them? You wouldn''t pass a butcher challenge with even one of my wrights."

    "Are you offering a contest then?"

    Tsk.

    The windrats were when he was just starting out with Butcher skills, and the snakes¡­

    There were two hundred snake carcasses in his inventory ¨C he''d been tired, alright?!

    The butcherughed derisively. "Why not? My wrights could use some diversion. They''d been working hard."

    "Since you denigrate my knife skills, shall we agree on testing that?" Krow pushed down his exasperation. "I''ll demonstrate with however many wrights you have."

    The butcherughed. "You have fire, that''s for sure. Alright! If you win, I''ll take you on. If you lose, you won''t approach any butcher in Rakaens!"

    "If I win," Krow countered. "You''ll sell me all the wright skills you have. If I lose, I won''t approach anyone else until I win here."

    "A fierce young buck, aren''t you." The butcher smirked. "Agreed!"

    He gestured for the apprentices watching to weigh and record the meat.

    "Get Khurn here," he ordered another. "And you, arrange those tables for me."

    The draculkar named Khurn came in, and Krow had the distinct feeling the butcher was only looking for entertainment.

    The wright was burly and muscled, he looked more like a cksmith than a butcher. Then again, with the size of the monsters in Rends, undoubtedly great strength was needed.

    Even the master butcher had a chiseled physique.

    Compared to them, Krow looked like an untried sapling, only needing the slightest gale to break.

    The whispering and schadenfreude-filled looks of the apprentices as they rushed here and there at the master butcher''s direction, making his arrrangements, was only noise.

    Krow knew the worth of a fully mastered skill.

    A craftmaster acquaintance, who was not the old man, told him that to advance to wright-rank, a crafter only needed 75% mastery of apprentice skills. It was 100% mastery of those same apprentice skills that told master examiners that a wright was ready for master-rank.

    With non-yers, Krow expected the mechanics to be the same. It was just too much work for apany to overhaul a crafting system proven to be popr, plus add the battle expansion.

    Basically, he was cing a bet on the practical money-grubbing of a business giant like RSI.

    Apart from Knife-handling, Krow didn''t have any of the other apprentice butcher skills. So he could only set up the contest like this.

    The wright he was going against was undoubtedly a more well-rounded butcher. But when it came to knife skills, he was outssed.

    As long as it was just knife skills, Krow would win.

    The butcher arranged two tables.

    He moved toward the thunder-badgermoles and Krow had a dread supposition.

    "Apprentices!" the butcher raised his voice. "This is a thunder-badgermole, if you do not recognize it. Thank our kind hunter for providing the material for his own demonstration today!"

    There was a smattering of apuse.

    Shkav.

    If the contest was dressing the carcass¡­he only just got the meatcarving skill.

    "The same hunter has offered to match the knife skills of our own butchers! Can you believe it?"

    Krow and Khurn eyed each other in the midst of the heckling.

    "Our own Khurn will be defending the skills of the shop today. They will skin a thunder-badgermole each, and the faster will win. Of course, the quality of the skin will also be inspected."

    Krow took out his skinning knife, ced it on the table.

    Khurn took a knife from his toolbelt and did the same.

    Skinning an animal was not purely a contest of knifework.

    More to the point, Krow had never skinned a thunder-badgermole before.

    "Let us give the young hunter a hand, and say Khurn will skin therger one!"

    The apprentices carried therger of the thunder-badgermoles to Khurn.

    Tsk. Wasn''t this guy looking down on him too much?

    Krow kept his faceural as he reced his Bonewood Gauntlets with the more flexible gue Doctor''s Gauntlets, and removed his Travelcoat.

    He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

    Khurn silently took a leather apron off a hook and offered it to him.

    Krow took it, nodding gratefully.

    He tied the apron around himself, tugging here and there as he examined how it protected his clothing. Should he buy a couple for himself?

    This seemed very useful.

    "Ready?"

    Krow looked up. Picked up the knife. He nodded. At the corner of his eye, he saw the opponent give the same signal.

    "Begin!"

    Both ignored the tables, flipping the thunder-badgermoles right there on the floor.

    Krow examined the furry underside.

    He''d never seen a thunder-badgermole skinned.

    Khurn was already moving.

    Krow stuffed down his sudden nerves. He''d just treat it as an oddly-shaped bear.

    He started at the feet, slicing through where the fur changed color, up to the anal vent. Did the same to the other leg. Then he started on the arms, doing the same ¨C both cuts meeting at the chest of the mole. Then he slid the knife downward, skirted the vent, let all the cuts meet.

    He''d noted earlier that there were massive meathooks hanging above them.

    He separated the skin of the legs from the meat, carefully cutting through the joints of the feet to include the monster''s digging ws with the skin.

    Tying the yed feet together with rope from his Inventory, he tossed the whole monster upward with a burst of strength. A jump and he tipped the hook to catch the rope, hanging the carcass.

    He stood on the table and with long careful strokes, parted cartge, fat, blood vessels to detach skin from the carcass.

    The skin now hung over the thunder-badgermole''s head like an improperly removed pullover.

    He slid the knife close to the skull, carefully peeling, making sure the skin was as pristine as possible. Soon, he was cutting through the cartge of the nose, and making small nicks to separate the lower jawbone from the skin.

    He paused briefly over cutting through the jawbone to retain the fangs, but decided speed was essential.

    The fangs were left with the skull.

    The thunder-badgermole skin fell to the floor.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire its Thunder-badgermole Pelt!]

    Krow slid down from the table, grabbed the fur, and flung it wide, spreading it over the tabletop magnificently.

    The room was silent.

    He blinked, then realized Khurn was only just jumping down from his table. The other flung the skin over the t surface, just as Krow did.

    They smiled, appreciating the other''s skills.

    The butcher walked to Krow''s table, circled the hanging carcass with narrow eyes. Then he moved to the table and flipped the skin over, fleshy side up, running a hand across the underside of the pelt.

    "Good quality!" was the verdict.

    The butcher then walked to Khurn, doing the same. "Good quality!"

    The apprentices started talking excitedly, filling the shop with a buzzing.

    The butcher smiled. "Because Khurn was given the bigger monster, this contest is a draw!"

    Hah.

    Krow didn''t speak against the ruling though. The other was definitely beyond 75% mastery of knife-handling.

    "Best two of three, apprentices! The fun isn''t over yet! Our hunter will now face our next wright, nda Ares!"

 Chapter 90 - Rakaens (4)

    A female human stepped up, mid-twenties with dark hair and a golden re. She looked like she wanted to strangle the butcher.

    The master butcher ignored her and made a gesture.

    The apprentices rushed to take down the carcasses and take away the pelts.

    She turned the re on Krow.

    He smiled at her, unperturbed. She huffed, crossed her arms, ignoring the apprentices wiping down the tables.

    Two bs of cold meat were ced on the tables.

    "The challenge, slice these pieces of Swordhorn Elk meat in Magmigant Stoneroast style!".

    Krow had never been to magmigant territory, but there had been restaurants popping up some years after the Quake, as the transmigrators adapted to Zuskenar that sold magmigant-style barbecue.

    Magmigants were a race that lived near or on volcanoes.

    Stoneroast was traditionally cooked on top of hotva rocks. The meat was sliced thinly, so it roasted quickly, retaining natural taste and tenderness. The obsidian tools the magmigants used meant the slices were thin enough to be translucent.

    Or so the stories said.

    Krow dropped his gaze to the b of half-frozen meat before him.

    It was a leg, three timesrger than his head.

    This was Swordhorned Elk meat?

    Swordhorned Elk were monsters over Lvl 30, and rare.

    Why would the butcher use the meat for a contest like this? This kind of meat would grace only the finest restaurants.

    Krow''s lips twitched. Or was it an attempt at intimidation?

    Did he do better than expected, master butcher?

    He studied the meat. He''d eaten Swordhorned Elk meat only a few times before.

    Delicious.

    It was not as lean as most deer, skeins of pale fat showing through the red meat.

    Even chilled, the scent of the raw meat was strong. Strangely, it wasn''t offputting.

    Krow washed his gloved hands in the basin one of the apprentices offered.

    He stored his skinning knife and took out the Umon cleaver, long as his arm.

    "Are you afraid it would jump off the table and attack you?" one of the apprentices hooted.

    The roomughed at him.

    Krow shrugged. What could he do?

    The Umon butcher knife had been pitted against the Bloodcrow bandit captain in the caves and lost most of its durability.

    The cleaver was the sharpest knife he had besides the skinning knife.

    The door to the inner part of the shop mmed open, cutting off theughter.

    Faces paled.

    The person who strode through the door looked around, eyes sharp, with a presence that Krow recognized as the confidence of a master.

    Two master butchers in one workshop?

    It was a more prestigious ce than he thought.

    She eyed the contest area, the surrounding apprentices, many of who were trying to sneak away. A tick in her cheek jumped visibly, she red at the butcher.

    "Balgurai¡­" she grit out. "I leave you in charge for one hour¡­"

    Oh.

    <em>This</em> was the master of the shop.

    "My dear friend, you told me to keep the kids away from you for the night." The other master butcher, or whoever he was, waved his arms at the contest. "What do you think I''m doing?"

    "What is he doing?" She narrowed her eyes at Krow.

    Huh, he knew who nda Ares was emting now.

    "After your¡­friend?"

    She grunted.

    "After your friend insulted my knife skills, we made a wager. If I win against the wrights of this shop, he''ll sell me all his wright skills. If I lose, I won''t bother the butchers of Rakaens until I won here."

    She eyed him, up and down, snorted. "And you''re doing it with that? This isn''t the ce for swords."

    Krow brought out what had once been a pretty nice the butcher knife. "My knife lost a fight with a bandit. Unfortunately, I only have this left."

    He hefted the cleaver.

    He had a suspicion¡­

    She flicked a hand. Two knives flew and buried themselves into the two hunks of meat. "This contest only. I''ll be the judge."

    From nda Ares'' expression, the knife was pretty nice.

    Krow pulled his from the hunk of cold meat.

    His eye twitched.

    [Six of Nine Adce''s Butcher Knife]

    [Quality: C] [Legendary]

    [Element: Air]

    [''I calcte the cut precise.'']

    [Boosts all Butcher skills by 100% if used by any butcher rank above apprentice.]

    [Defense Multiplier: 2]

    [Damage Reduction: 120%]

    [Weight: .5kg]

    [Durability (4/4): 30,478]

    Krow put it down, sighed.

    His first legendary.

    And it was a butcher knife.

    A legendary butcher knife.

    And it was the sixth of nine simr knives?

    The yer cksmith who made it had to be at the peak of the cksmith craft. And they used it to make a nine-item set of butcher knives.

    Craftmaster cksmith, you sure have a lot of free time, don''t you?

    Krow nced at the actual owner, who was talking to Balgurai.

    He''d just assume the guy was a butcher, because otherwise, what skills was he doing this contest for?

    From the pained smile on the butcher''s face and the low voice of the owner, she was threatening him quite thoroughly.

    He studied her. His suspicion was definitely true.

    This was a yer.

    A yer craftmaster.

    She finished her conversation, stood aside, and Balgurai sighed. "So the conditions have changed. Win here, lose here, this is the end. Craftmaster Adce herself will be the judge of your skills. Are you both ready?"

    Krow hefted Six of Nine.

    It was light.

    That should be a good thing, but he was used to wielding a gun three times the weight.

    A knife as weightless as Six of Nine would be difficult to control.

    He twirled it like he was in a circus act, frowning, changing between hands until he approximated somefort with wielding it. His Knife-handling skill and DEX helped.

    His opponent needed less time to get used to her knife, and watched him with crossed arms and a lifted brow.

    With ast series of twirls using his dominant hand, he nodded at the announcer.

    "Begin!"

    The apprentices, and some customers who''de in, cheered as both knives shed in the light of themps.

    The speed of movement meant the motions of the two were difficult to see. The bs of meat looked like they were falling apart, like the pages of a book rifled through.

    Page after page curled away from the slowly diminishing bs of meat.

    "Stop."

    The single spoken word stilled the room.

    nda Ares froze, knife poised above her hunk of meat.

    Krow, who had not spent years obeying that voice, twitched, onest thinner-than-paper-thin slice falling away from the main b.

    They both blinked.

    "That''s enough to judge." Craftmaster Adce nodded to Balgurai.

    "Apprentices," Balgurai grinned. "Themps."

    Eagerly, the apprentices set upmps on long stands, like streetlights.

    Krow raised his brows. They''d done this before, apparently.

    "You two," Adce neared their tables. "You watch as well."

    Krow put down his knife.

    He and nda moved from behind their tables to stand near Balgurai.

    She nced to the side. "Ready?"

    "Yes, master," acknowledged the apprentices near themps.

    The craftmaster grabbed a single slice from each table and threw them like a frisbee. The slices glided horizontally, and as they passed themps, a sound of wonder rose from the throng.

    The slices were illuminated by the goldenmps behind them, vivid red and pink, the color of a sunrise.

    The apprentices, ready to the side of themps, grabbed the slices gently, quickly rolling them in butcher paper.

    Krow sighed.

    His slice was slightly murkier than nda''s, the sudden order to stop having made him lose his focus.

    But the craftmaster grabbed another two slices, tossed them. This time, both slices shone equally rich quality, vivid and glistening.

    And again.

    Ten slices, before she stopped.

    "Apprentice," she rapped out as the apprentices caught thest slices. "The count."

    There was a pause.

    nda Ares sighed. "There''s no need, master. It''s my loss."

 Chapter 91 - Rakaens (5 Of 5)

    Seven high quality slices to Krow, five to the butcher shop wright.

    The craftmaster nodded. She turned away. "Balgurai! Sell him your wright skills. One drax each."

    Whoa. Cheap.

    Sure enough, the draculkar protested. "Adce!"

    "You disturb my evening, you pay the price!"

    "Come now, it was only a little bit of fun!"

    Well, Krow was grateful for her support, even if it was to punish someone else.. Even though Krow had the feeling she didn''t like him.

    Then again, she was a craftmaster.

    He''d entered Rends as part of the war expansion. The guns he carried made that fact obvious.

    Even though with the war expansion, the craftmasters had been given the chance to choose added sses for themselves, statistics from the future indicated that less than 60% took the option of a battless and of those, less than 35% used their battlesses actively.

    There was a divide between craftmasters and warmasters until the craft update forced them to work together.

    "Masters Balgurai and Adce were taught by the same master," nda Ares saw him looking at the two masters with some interest. "Their rtionship is of greatradery."

    Krow shook his head, smiled at the wright.

    His curiosity was because he was fairly certain Balgurai was a non-yer.

    Rends was an immersive game. He should''ve realized that the craftmasters hadplex rtionships with the non-yer AIs at this time.

    He wondered how that affected the gamey of the warmasters.

    In crafter cities and towns, their quests must have been interesting.

    "Do you sell knives?"

    "We do," she lifted a brow at him. "I have to ask, how are you that good with a knife?"

    "A lifetime of practice," he told her frankly.

    "I...see." She shook her head. "Come. The knives are in the sidehall. You can find Craftmaster Balguraiter."

    The knives she showed him were simr to the Umon sets he got in Nyurajke. He just had to rece the damaged ones in the sets he already had.

    Seeing his pickiness, nda smirked. "If you''re looking for knives like Craftmaster Adce''s, you''re out of luck. Those are all sold out."

    Krowughed. "I think I''ll need to save a country or something equally drastic before I could acquire something like those for myself."

    Her smirk widened.

    Balgurai came looking for Krow about a half-hourter, as he was discussing with nda and a few apprentices which parts of various monsters to feed which kind of person.

    Apparently, to butchers, the kind of meat a person bought said something about them.

    "You, hunter." He called for Krow''s attention. "This way."

    "It''s Krow, in fact."

    "Yes, yes. Let''s get this finished, shall we?"

    Krow took leave of his conversation partners with a shrug, followed Balgurai to Adce''s office.

    Adce fiddled with a Skill Crystalizer in the corner. She nced up as they entered. "I don''t have to tell you that Skill Shards only have an 80% sess rate for absorption, right?"

    "When using with a realism percentage under 90%, craftmaster," he refuted. "Otherwise, 95% sess ismon."

    She straightened, surprised. "You have mastery of knife-handling at over 90% realism? What do you <em>do</em>?"

    As expected of a craftmaster. She immediately knew his skill was fully mastered.

    He shrugged. "I worked in a corporate office until I wasid off."

    "After which you took up knife juggling?" Adce asked incredulously. Balgurai moved to rece her on the machine.

    As a yer, she well knew how much real-life skill affected skill advancement in Rends. At his level, it was impossible to have a mastered skill unless he was a realworld pro.

    "I''m actually pretty clumsy when juggling." His very brief college career as a stage-y clown would attest to that. He''d been relegated to backstage for the rest of the project.

    "Became a chef, then?"

    "You wouldn''t want to eat my cooking."

    "A carver of some kind?"

    "I do have some artistic ability."

    "¡­surgeon?"

    "I look that much like a genius?"

    "True. Impossible."

    Krow looked at her speechlessly. Oy, could you be a little less blunt?

    "It''s done." Balgurai stepped away from the Skill Crystalizer. There were six Skill Shards in his hands.

    Adce lifted a brow. "Thest time, you had only four wright skills."

    "You''re not the only one who likes to learn new skills, you know," her friend muttered.

    "Mm." She checked the Skill Shards. "Quality Cut, Meatseller, Bonesplitter, Charcutier, Haggle and Greater Appraisal."

    Krow tried not to react.

    One drax was in fact the price for Apprentice skills.

    Wright skills usually sold from three to twenty drax, depending on the subss and skill rarity.

    Common wright skills sold for three drax.

    Ordinary master butchers generally only sold two wright-rank skills, as the skill needed to be fully mastered before it could be crystalized.

    The draculkar had four butcher wright-rank skills. Thest two weren''t butcher skills but trade skills.

    He normally needed a trade subss to be able to use those skills. But he rolled a merchant n in registration, so he could absorb Haggle.

    Greater Appraisal needed no subss or main ss requirement.

    Greater Appraisal, in particr, caught his attention because it was rare for anyone to have it. Most appraisal skills were specific to a ss, like gem appraisal for jewellers and ore appraisal for miners and smelters.

    Greater Appraisal meant he didn''t have to buy any other appraisal skill after this. It normally sold at top price, eighteen to twenty-five drax.

    For one measly drax, it was really a steal.

    He understood why Balgurai was aggrieved.

    Balgurai poured the shards onto the table. He smiled at Krow. "My hunter friend, our wager is done. Six drax, if you would."

    "The name is Krow, truly." Krow dropped a pouch of coin into the draculkar''s outstretched hand. "It was an honor, to see the skills of a craftmaster''s workshop."

    He swept the shards into his Inventory, touched his fingers to his forehead, and left.

    He went immediately to the counter. "The meat and organs I brought, have they been weighed?"

    The apprentice stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Y-yes. Everything, including the delicacies and the thunder-badgermole carcasses,es to two hundred and seventy-six drax, sixteen serpens. Is this eptable?"

    Krow smirked. "I''ll take it."

    Skill-buying was only this easy in Rends.

    In Zushkenar, the only Skill Crystalizers existed in the Shrines of Knowledge. The cost had risen as well, so much that many could not pay it.

    He''d seen one Shrine on a pir earlier, which was what gave him the idea of buying his wright-rank butcher skills.

    Krow exhaled, a little vexed at himself.

    If he''d remembered this earlier, he could have bought basic and apprentice skills for all his subsses in Nyurajke.

    The night was lively as he left the butcher shop.

    He walked toward the area the gatekeeper said was called schr''s street, dodging drunks, several groups of bards plying their skills on the paths, beggars, burghers, gamblers, and bagmen.

    He surmounted a flight of stairs, paused by a balustrade.

    Great stars twinkled in the skies, the attention-demanding moon for the moment hidden in a bank of cloud.

    It was not a sight possible in Greatcentral City, where light pollution kept the inhabitants from seeing all but the brightest stars.

    The diamant-studded sky above and the firely-likemps in the valley below; it seemed like Rakaens floated on ake of stars.

    He continued on the viaduct to the Third tower.

    What would Cerkanst have been like, as a town?

    He''d never had the asion to travel to it, hisst life.

    Grand like Nyurajke? Rural, like the draculkar lond towns? Or like this, a trade town with visible history on every wall?

    A mix of Earth and Rendsbined?

    Krow sighed.

    What was the use of conjecturing?

    Maybe it was a good thing he never saw it.

    Think instead, what sort of town would he want to build in the future?

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Note:

    Please don''t copy and post on other sites.

    If you see this work on other websites, know that the author Jin Daoran posts exclusively on webnovel(dot. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 92 - Spare Me, Masters, At Least Give A Discount! (1)

    It was a good thing Krow at least bought scribe tools and basic skillsst night after he left the butchers, because he hadn''t expected this.

    The basic skills of Scout and Tracker were the same: Stalk and Keen-eyed. Stalk was already covered by his Forester subss.

    He thought it was a coincidence when the master scout of the Rakaen Town Guard challenged him to an obstacle race before he allowed Krow to buy the Keen-eyed skill and the Marcher skill for the Soldier subss.

    But this was his third visit to one of the town''s masters, and the siren smilingly offered a game of shahmat before getting down to business.

    Chess, basically.

    The master leatherworker he''d visited this morning also required him to assist in preparing several curing solutions before he deigned to sell him Tanner and Skinner skills.

    Three times, as they said, was enemy action..

    Krow suspected Balgurai.

    "This can''t be how this town conducts business?" he grumbled even as he sat opposite one of the master ountants of the Essax bank.

    "You must understand," the siren stated, smile unchanging. "You are buying a skill, not apprenticing. I do not know your character, nor what you would use my skill for. To sell you this hard-learned skill, should I not be worried? Shahmat is a test of the mind and character, more than simply a game. You would not refuse?"

    "I''m already sitting down," Krow pointed out.

    "Excellent." She brought out a game board, a game already in progress. She tapped a symbol on the side of the board, and the pieces rearranged to starting positions. "ck to you, young sir. Shall we start?"

    He hummed, moved a pawn to ssic opening position.

    At the end of two hours, they were ring at each other.

    "I would not have thought a draculkar to be so devious," she seethed.

    "I expected a siren to be more vicious," he taunted back.

    On the board, only six pieces remained. Three to ck, three to white.

    "Kingless in two," she stated.

    Krow narrowed his eyes at her, moved his king.

    She threw her hands up. "You stubborn jackass."

    "Kingless," he said, stubbornly, "in five."

    "What?!"

    He tapped her lone castle.

    She chuckled angrily, then took a deep breath and sighed. "I''ll sell you the skill. While the contrary nature in your ying style is undoubtedly interesting, we''ll be here until sundown if we wait for a decisive win."

    "What contrary nature? I believe I''m very amodating."

    She snorted, leaned back in her chair. "You are the most unamodating person I''ve met in years."

    Krow straightened in his seat, stretched tensed muscles with a sigh of relief. "You''ll sell a skill to someone like that?"

    She smiled, wry. "The skill ''Calcte'' is not an ability limited to numbers. With your bull-headed, dog-persistent, mule-intractable nature, I can be assured it will at least not be used haphazardly."

    "Oy." There was no need to keep repeating the sentiment.

    Besides, all skills could be used in ways not limited by subss.

    She all but chased him out of the bank after tossing him the Skill Shard.

    None of them even gave him a discount, like the butcher shop did!

    Krow huffed.

    He studied the busy streets, snagged someone who looked like a local. "Do you know where I can find someone selling Ghost Stones?"

    The man shook his head, shrugged him off.

    "Alright. Sorry for bothering you." Krow released him and snagged the next likely individual.

    It was not until the sixth catch that the person nodded to his question. "You could simply ask at Bothadin Temple."

    There was a temple of Bothadin here?!

    "Thanks." He released the teen-ager, who fastidiously straightened his sleeves with an air of indignation before continuing on his way.

    Oh shkav, he forgot to ask where that was.

    Oh well.

    He reached out and grabbed another of the mass of people on the streets. "Good afternoon. Would you know where Bothadin Temple is?"

    He got a passel of strange looks for that question.

    Luckily, he only needed to ask two people this time.

    Bothadin was the deity of sacrifices, represented by a body hanging upside down from an obelisk. One of the bloodier deities of Destruction.

    Bothadin the Sacrifice and Takrul the Shadowed shared between them the distinction of being considered deities attached to the domain of death.

    Their Temples would definitely have someone selling Ghost Stones.

    Ghostcaller was thest subss he had to buy basic skills for, since Greater Appraisal already took covered the basic Smelter and Clockmaker skills.

    The temple of Bothadin was, like the Pravdakyr Temple, on a pir some distance from the center of Rakaens.

    Bothadin and Pravdakyr in one ce ¨C the history of Rakaens must be very interesting.

    The kind of interesting that, when dug into, would spawn secrets better left uncovered.

    And possibly numerous treasures.

    While Krow was curious, unearthing an extended questline here would take him away from Cerkanst too long.

    Besides, craftmasters being here meant most of those secrets were in the hands of yers already.

    When he stepped onto the temple grounds, he found that the bulk of Bothadin Temple was not on a pir, it was carved into the pir.

    In addition, there was a short skybridge hidden behind the pir that extended into a hole in the ridge.

    A cave?

    Ugh. He''d had too much experience with cavestely.

    Thankfully, the seller of Ghost Stones was in the outer pir of the Temple.

    Krow was used to young people working jobs in Zushkenar that Earth would condemn as uwful childbor.

    But the draculkar proprietor of the small temple shop didn''t look like he was even close to approaching ten years in age.

    And yet, he met Krow''s eyes with a gaze older than his body seemed. Or maybe that was just the long pipe he was smoking. "A customer?"

    "I am. I''m looking for Ghost Stones. Rare or higher if you have them."

    The child grinned, showing a gap between his teeth and a hint of fang. It was a sight that would have many girls screaming at the adorableness.

    The words he spoke, however, were not adorable at all.

    "Three hundred for Rare, nine hundred for Unique."

    Gah.

    Child, if you want to be a bandit in broad daylight, at least threaten the target with a naked weapon. It would get confusing otherwise.

 Chapter 93 - Spare Me, Masters, At Least Give A Discount! (2)

    Krow didn''t have much hope, but still asked. "How much will you trade for monster Bones?"

    "What kind of Bones?" Dark copper eyes narrowed consideringly.

    "Umons."

    "Ten drax each under B grade. Twelve for the higher quality."

    Was this child trying to make himugh, or cry? "Nevermind. I''ll see your Rares."

    He''ll just use the Bones in enchanting.

    The child took out a chest and opened it to show multiple levels.. He sent a practiced grin at Krow. "Finest ghost-stones in these parts! No better ce than here to get them!"

    Krow picked up one of the stones, only asrge as a thumb. They were pale, polished bone carved in reliefs.

    The one he took was banded in copper.

    Touching his power to it, a roaring vinebear appeared.

    Its roar was soundless, but the unnatural chill felt in its vicinity would give onlookers enough of a shiver topensate.

    "Oh!" The shop proprietor stood, fascinated, tiny and dark beside the pale semi-opaque spirit-bear. "Most people don''t get them so clear!"

    Krow''s magic Aptitude was 11. If the shape wasn''t distinct, he''d be surprised.

    He eyed the vinebear, then the ghost-stone in his hand.

    [Marfall Vinebear Ghost-stone][Rare]

    Trailing Vine Bones, like the one he had, were Umon. Enchanting it to get a Rare ghost-stone required higher quality catalysts topensate.

    That was odd, actually.

    Usually, the result of the enchantment gained the quality grade of the main ingredient, in this case the Bone.

    How highly graded were the other catalysts that an Umon main ingredient turned out a Rare result?

    Unique? Epic? Multiple Rares?

    Basically, it was a waste.

    "Are you buying it, sir customer?"

    "Let me test the others."

    There were three flying ghosts, seven assortednd-based ghosts, and four water-based.

    All the ones he recognized, they were Umon creatures.

    Truly very odd.

    What type of carelessly wealthy enchanter squandered high-level materials on an unpopr item like a ghost-stone?

    Could they toss Krow a couple of Uniques, since he still had a few items to spirit-bind?

    He''d been nning to use the condorowl down feathers he still had, but they were only E+ Rare.

    Krow snorted at his fanciful thoughts, turned his attention back on the more tangible problem before him.

    He picked out [Hagon Sparrowhawk Ghost-stone][Rare], [Tree-gliding Snake Ghost-stone][Rare], and [Rockeater Worm Ghost-stone][Rare].

    Ghostly echoes followed the behaviors of their living counterparts, so Krow thought he covered a wide range for his scouting endeavors.

    "Nine hundred drax," the child extended his hand.

    Krow narrowed his eyes. "Five hundred."

    Minutester, hemented his lot. He really should''ve gone to the Shrine of Knowledge first. The Haggle skill would reallye in handy.

    As it was, utilizing the tricks he''d seen in hisbined 35 years, he only managed to wring a 50 drax reduction per item.

    It was arge concession, but could he really feel proud when the opponent, though so fierce, was a kid? What''s more, despite the sullen capittion, the look in the other''s eyes was only slightly pained.

    That meant his reduced price was still within eptable calctions for the temple shop.

    In other words, hisbined 35 years ofpulsory education plus business and trade experience had been stalled by a child.

    Heughed at himself, and gave in.

    See, master ountant? He was being very amodating right now. An eight year old was more bull-headed than he was!

    "Do you have something I can use to string them together?"

    "Ten drax."

    "Don''t push it."

    The child smiled sheepishly. "Three drax."

    He brought out a piece of string, and with deft hands, wove pretty patterns around the ghost-stones, creating a ne on the spot.

    Krow didn''t even care that three drax was still too high. The weaving ability of the kid was amazing.

    He rubbed his thumb on a strand of the woven ne, marveling.

    On Earth, these types of handicrafts were rare already, fetching high prices from recognized ateliers. Even then, said ateliers had the resources to operate only due to government support of traditional culture.

    Most ''artisan craftwork'' sold on the streets was machine-made. Most things used by ordinary people on Earth were machine-made ¨C perfectly measured and carved and woven.

    The ne wasn''t perfect, but he''d seen it made with a dexterity and confidence he only saw on old craft documentaries.

    He opened his equipment panel, curiously tried to install the ne.

    "Eh. It worked."

    [Ghost-stone Ne][Common]

    [An essory to contain ghost-stones. Contains 3/3 ghost-stones.]

    He tried activating the ghost-stones.

    Three pale spirits burst into existence: the sparrowhawk shot toward the clouds, the snake slithered down the pir, and the worm disappeared into the stony ground.

    Haha!

    He could trigger the ghost-stones with a thought, instead of bringing out Bones from his Inventory.

    He decided to keep just the sparrowhawk out. Each spirit took 20MP of power a minute ¨C that was the most that his meager current MP recovery rate covered.

    With his MP recovery, he could keep one spirit activated indefinitely.

    Using Umon Bones, his MP usage was 15MP a minute per spirit. But he should hope the scouting done with Rare ghost-stones was more detailed than using Bones.

    Krow paid with only a slight wince; 750 drax ced his ready gold at well under a thousand again.

    He watched the child put the money away. "Kid, is there a master ghost-caller around I could speak to?"

    "There is a master in the Temple," was the answer. "Is there a lost item you want to find?"

    What?

    Did that mean people came here, to this dread Temple belonging to Bothadin, Deity of Sacrifice and Death, to ask the master ghost-callers thatired here where they misced their various bric-a-brac?

    No way.

    Krow wanted tough.

    He cleared his throat. "No. I wanted to ask a few questions."

    "Master Vathan just went in. He might be at the altar."

    "Thanks, kid."

    "Thank you too! If you ever need more stones, just look for Dayirras!"

    "Sure." He''d be certain to master Haggle first.

    There was only one person in the temple when he entered. The person was standing straight, staring at the hanging Bothadin above the altar.

    He didn''t seem to be too busy.

    Krow neared. "Are you Master Vathan, the ghost-caller?"

    The man turned. Human, tall and thin, with skin darkened by the sun, and temples brushed with silver. He would''ve been a distinguished looking man, if not for the curl of mischief at the corners of his eyes and the lips stained blue.

    Looking closer, there was a ring of sapphire blue around his irises. A slightly manic appearance to his gaze.

    Blueshade root addiction.

    The raw roots of blueshade roundgrass were chewed as a mild stimnt, usually with pepperleaf or other spices to enchance the taste.

    "¡­you are Vathan, the ghost-caller."

    "I am," the man nodded. "And you are?"

    "Krow."

    "And for what reason do you seek Vathan, the ghost-caller?"

    "I am told that master ghost-callers can sell basic skills. As someone with the ability to call ghosts, I want to learn these skills. Can the master indulge this request from a new ghost-caller?"

    "Krow, the new ghost-caller. The new butcher, the new soldier, the new leatherworker, the new ountant, the new¡­ghost-caller."

    Krow didn''t quite know what to say to that half-distant recounting. Whoa, the gossipers were working extra-fast today?

 Chapter 94 - Spare Me, Masters, At Least Give A Discount! (3)

    "Late of Gremut," Vathan continued, still staring at him, with an air that said he wasn''t all in the present. "And now, of Cerkanst."

    Perhaps Krow was influenced by the air of the temple, because a chill passed through him. Was this how ghostcallers found lost items?

    Possibly not so funny, after all.

    He didn''t know much about ghostcallers. Was there even a guide?

    It was not a craftmaster ss, and with the rmendations even now detailing the uselessness of subsses in Rends, how many people would have chosen it over the more useful picks like miner or cksmith.

    He only picked it because of the meatshield and scout potential.

    He looked around at the empty temple..

    The walls were decorated in reliefs and abstract statuary. The pale limestone of the walls was bare, not inted or tiled like the houses and towers of Rakaens. The pale cream color of the stone shone yellowish in themplight, like old bone.

    What was his luck, that the only ghostcaller in the temple was a blueshade addict?

    Blueshade was called the hundred-year death, in Zushkenar. In a world where many of the people, even the humans, lived to be over a hundred, it wasn''t an ordinary im.

    Blueshade had mild side-effects,pared to most addictive drugs. The toxins built up over decades, and the person wasn''t addicted until years of using the stimnt.

    The start of addiction was somewhat benign, a person bing more energetic, more vigorous. The addicts gained several decades of manufactured youthful happiness before the downward spiral into manic depression culminating in death.

    The ghostcaller beside him was already beginning that downward slide.

    "You are a gunman, I see. And with strong magic." Vathan hummed, those blue-tinged lips curling upward. "I have just the task for you."

    "Who, exactly, told you about this?"

    Vathan was already walking away. At Krow''s question, he waved a hand casually. "The wind."

    "Of course, the wind." Krow held in his groan. "And did the wind also tell you who set this in motion?"

    No one, absolutely not a single person, on the forums said skill-buying was fraught with quests!

    The ghostcaller nced over his shoulder, eyes shing impishly. "Why would the wind tell me that? What do you think it does, gossip?"

    Krow looked back tly in response.

    Vathan giggled. He opened a stone door and disappeared into the light that washed into the dim temple through the opening.

    Krow stood there for a moment, contemting life.

    Vathan stuck his head into the doorway. "I am the only master ghostcaller in the whole of Rakaens."

    "Coming." He jogged toward the door.

    It led to the small skybridge spanning pir and the cliff. Vathan was already across it, entering the crack in the cliff that had been fashioned into an entrance.

    Ah, it looked like Krow wouldn''t be able to avoid a cave today.

    He traversed the stone skybridge, eyeing nearby pirs. The whole town, seen in the daylight, was full of stone art. Krow was absorbed in the details of a relief seeming to depict a lightning bolt striking a depiction of the game-map, trying to see what was different, that he bumped into someone.

    "Oh, I''m sorry, are you alright?"

    The siren shook his head, smiled, and continued on jauntily as if nothing happened.

    Krow couldn''t help note that against the natural pale green tinge of the siren''s skin, his lips were also starting to darken to blue.

    Were all adherents to Bothadin hopped up on blueshade?

    Blueshade root was popr because of its slight boost to MP recovery.

    There were no mana potions in Rends and Zushkenar. Something about the potionmaking process destroyed the ability in the raw ingredients.

    So MP recovery was done through raw nt products and enchanted items.

    When he was told Cerkanst had a history of herb growing, his first thought was convince the vige to nt four-color scorpion grass, whose flowers and leaves could be made into MP recovering sds.

    On second thought, it was too high-profile a product.

    He''d lose Cerkanst the day the vigers put scorpion grass on the market.

    Vathan nced at him as he came to walk beside, waved to the sectioned ritual rooms, simr to those in Tnweth Temple. "This is the inner temple. That is the primary altar, a bit more private than the one in the outer rooms. If you want to make a Ritual of Sacrifice, the temple here is open to all."

    Haha.

    In essence, all Rituals were sacrifices. But a Ritual of Sacrifice was only possible in certain Temples, conducted to gain a Blessing.

    The cost for such a ritual was great.

    In Rends, this could be done with money. If he recalled correctly, 500 drax for a Lesser Blessing, 5000 drax for a Greater Blessing, and 100,000 drax for a Halo.

    Bessings were buffs and abilities, depending on the Temple the sacrifice was performed in. Lesser Blessings typicallysted weeks to months, Greater Blessingssted years, and a Halo was permanent.

    Another way to gain a blessing was to sacrifice epic and legendary items, or to take a Temple Quest. These quests were always difficult, and often long-term.

    The level of sess determined the kind of Blessing granted.

    He tried taking a temple quest in hisst life as a yer, with the Temple of Galmentir, for a Light Warrrior''s Blessing. He didn''t manage a quarter through the questline before the Quake.

    In Zushkenar, you couldn''t pay gold for a Blessing. The sacrifice of epic and legendary items, and the Temple Quests, remained.

    "Ah, here we are." Vathan stopped at a tall door, after going down several levels of rooms carved into the mountain. "You are quite privileged. Most people do not get to see our inner temple''s great hall even once in their lifetime."

    "What have I done," Krow said tonelessly, unimpressed. "to earn such an honor."

    "Oh, you will earn it, you will," muttered Vathan under his breath. "You and me both."

    Krow didn''t think he was supposed to hear that, but only raised his brows subtly. <em>Now</em>, he was a little interested.

    The door creaked open, the sound more like metal doors.

    Beyond the threshold were about twenty people of varying race.

    Was this all of the temple workers?

    But Krow''s attention was caught by a massive sculpted relief opposite the door, covering the entire wall, disappearing into the darkness of the high ceiling.

    An abstract sculpture resembling gears and springs he''d once seen in a museum, in the uncovered movement of an old mechanical watch.

    He blinked as suddenly lights flickered in circr openings that had looked like rivets from where he stood.

    Someone was leaping between poles fused into the sculpture, and throwing glowing spears into the lights, not missing one until they reached the top, where they copsed on a tform. They were helped up by some of the people who were robed like Vathan was.

    The people roared, sound filling the massive hall.

    People shook hands, argued. Actually, it looked like--

    Krow jolted in surprise as the gears on the wall turned, and the room shuddered a little.

    ¡­not a sculpture.

    Stones poured out from slots in another wall, and the noise in the hall heightened. The stones flowed intorge wooden vats arranged specifically below the slots.

    What was going on?

    "Quite impressive," Vathanmented. "Young Jeron has only recently joined us at the temple."

    "The walls are mafmet made?"

    "Who knows. This cave was discovered by the builders of the temple. A mining tform, I believe."

    "Mining what?"

    "You''d have to ask the old lords of Rakaen." He eyed Krow. "You''re not a necromancer, are you?"

    "Is that even possible?" Was there a necromancer build? He''d never heard of one. But a gamer was nothing if not resourceful. If there wasn''t one now, there would be in the future.

    "The histories are unclear. It may be myth, to scare young children." Vathan shrugged.

    Krow was familiar with shrugging off quest prompts by now. Besides, did he really want to go down that road? The world of the game was malleable; he didn''t want to be the person to bring a walking dead apocalypse to Rends.

    "Is that what you want me to do then?"

    "Hah." Vathan chuckled. "Your task is right here."

    He pointed out a narrow door behind a curtain.

    Krow pushed it open, wrinkled his nose at the dank smell.

    "The rats are starting to invade again." He handed Krow a rifle and a pullcart full of ammunition. "The door will open when you ce a hundred rat tails on the scale. Happy hunting."

    The door closed with a grinding ng.

 Chapter 95 - Spare Me, Masters, At Least Give A Discount (4 Of 4)

    Rats?

    Krow red at the locked door for a long moment, before he looked around.

    There was indeed a scale built into the stone wall beside the door.

    He had to collect rat tails?

    There was a squeak further down the dim corridor. He twirled the rifle into ce on his shoulder and shot. The retort of the weapon was even quieter than his revolvers.

    A tail dropped onto the scale, smelly and damp.

    [You''ve gained two (2) Silver Serpens from a monster!]

    He stepped back from the mechanism..

    Marvelous.

    At least he didn''t have to cut them off himself.

    Two serpens meant that the monsters were above Lvl 10.

    Krow studied the rifle he''d been given.

    [Mothberg Rathunting Levergun Rifle]

    [Quality: B+][Umon]

    [''You are sneaky, I''m sneakier. You are squeaky, I''m squeakier. You are betailed, I detail.'']

    [Boosts Stealth and Damage by 100% against all Rodents.]

    [Defense Multiplier: .1]

    [Damage Reduction: .02%]

    [Weight: 3.5kg]

    [Durability (1/1): 129]

    It held six shots, with one in the chamber, for a total of seven.

    Krow sighed and walked down the corridor. He passed the rat carcass. It was massive, its paws tipped with ws as long as his own fingers.

    He touched it, grimacing.

    [You''ve gained one (1) Murklith Tooth from a monster!]

    He checked the tooth.

    [Murklith Tooth]

    [Quality: C-][Common]

    He dropped the tooth from his Inventory. Not worth it.

    A scurrying above alerted him to the possibility that the rats could climb. That was when he saw the tforms. The light was scant, but enough for his draculkar eyes to see that the narrow corridor had a ceiling that was at least a tower high, with wooden tforms along various levels.

    He jumped to the lowest one above.

    A rat scurried away from the sound of his bootsnding on wood. He shot, and it slid off the tform, dead.

    He returned to the ground, grabbed the pullcart of ammunition, and started walking.

    A service corridor, he determined. The vertical tforms above him were to maintain that colossal mechanism on the walls of the hall outside.

    A mining tform this massive? What were they mining?

    He turned a few more corners, getting used to the rifle as he shot rat after rat, only to back up against the wall at a sudden roar of sound echoing through the narrow corridor.

    He covered his ears, grimacing at the onught of noise.

    A small rain of stones fell from above.

    His tenseness bled away as he realized. Someone had just gotten through the temple''s weird obstacle course again. An initiation ritual of some kind?

    Then through the gaps in the wall, he heard:

    "What do you call that, you mangy donkey? Couldn''t you have done it faster?!"

    "You lost me three silver!!"

    "Remarje! Remarje! Remarje!"

    "What do you mean six and ten?! We agreed on five!"

    "Give me back my money!"

    "I''m paying for drinks tonight, haha!"

    "Fadal, you''re up next!"

    "Who??"

    "Oh, that guy. I''m betting two silver on under ten seconds!"

    "Are you mad? Look at him!"

    "Don''t waste your money, you still have to feed your wife!"

    Krow''s lips twitched.

    What was he thinking? What initiation ritual. Clearly, they were all just gambling.

    Bothadin, deity of sacrifice and death, dreaded from sea to sea, are you sure you don''t want to just smite all your followers right now and be done with them?

    Krow straightened as the deluge of stones, and the sound of rock rattling through vents and into wooden containers, tapered off.

    He must be right at the wall where the stones poured out.

    This obstacle course of the temple workers must be digging the mining gear deeper and deeper into the mountain. For what purpose?

    Arger Temple? Judging from the amount of people in the temple hall, and the several levels Vathan led him through, the inner temple was more thanrge enough for them already.

    Who needed that much space?

    A rat ran out of a corner, scrabbled at the fallen rocks, then scurried away. Krow lifted a brow, aimed.

    It took just one round to kill two-serpens monsters, so easy.

    But the rifle was too unwieldy to load. The rounds had to be fed into the affixed magazine tube one by one.

    These Murklith Rats were fine, but with more aggressive monsters, it was an enormous downside.

    Krow bent over the rat, wondering what was so important that it left safety.

    Fallen out of the monster''s mouth was a stone.

    He picked it up, quizzical.

    Did the rats eat rock?

    [Ordinary Pebble][Epic]

    [A very ordinary pebble.]

    ¡­Epic?

    Krow rubbed the dust off the rock. There was nothing distinguishing about it. The size of a grape, the color of ordinary granite, nothing notable.

    Nothing but the designation that said its rarity was Epic.

    An Epic pebble.

    An <em>Epic</em> pebble?!

    And here he''d been stunned just yesterday by a Legendary butcher knife.

    His levels of disbelief had just been upgraded. Truly, they said travel stretched your horizons.

    Krow thought for a moment, rolling the pebble around in his hand.

    Then he dismissed his spirit sparrowhawk and brought out the spirit worm.

    "Appear." A five meter translucent form materialized before him, with a head full of nothing but sharp teeth. It didn''t even have eyes.

    He lifted the pebble. "Mark this on the map."

    The spirit worm touched the pebble, chilling Krow''s hand, and disappeared into the stone wall.

    He flicked the pebble into his inventory, then brought the hand up to touch the ghost-stones on his ne.

    Was this the answer?

    The catalyst needed?

    If it was, he needed to know. The difference between Umon and Rare on the Bourse was vast. To be able to churn out Rare items from Umon material¡­wasn''t that just like minting gold from thin air?

    Something like that, anyway.

    Krow frowned at the pebble in his hand.

    But it didn''t have a quality grade?

    Even if his suspicions were mistaken, investigating was prudent. He stepped to the handful of simr fallen stones, picked them up one by one.

    Of the dozens, only one turned up.

    [Ordinary Pebble][Rare]

    [A very ordinary pebble.]

    He straightened, then ced the pebble in the Inventory. Another look around, then he continued with the rat extermination quest.

    Three hourster, a series of notifications caught his attention.

    [You''ve killed 1000 monsters!]

    [You''ve gained 25 Reputation Points in Marfall Continent for killing 1000 monsters!]

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Monster yer Badge</strong> from killing 1000 monsters!]

    Oh?

    His mood improved.

    Nice!

    Now if only he could get out of this smelly ce.

    Basically, the only reason he still hunted rats after the initial hundred was because the spirit worm had discovered and was mapping a rather extensive cavern system under the town.

    Also, he''d picked up more epic and rare pebbles.

    He needed a reason to stay in the corridor.

    The gambling sounded like it was winding down though, which meant he had to leave soon.

    It took thirty minutes, and ten more rains of pebbles he had to winnow through, for Vathan toe looking for him.

    The ghostcaller looked up at Krow, who was perched on one of the upper tforms, tracking a rat ten levels up with the rifle. "Have you decided to forswear a material life and remain at the temple of Bothadin to be an ordained rathunter?"

    The rat darted off, frightened by the amused voice of the ghostcaller.

    Krow lowered the rifle, sighed. "If ever I do, you have my permission to check me for possession and other external mental influences, toxic drugs, hallucinatory venom, or such."

    Vathan chuckled. "I assure you, being a temple devotee is not so bad as you think. But continuing, were you lost in a frenzy of bloodlust, found salvation in the inestimable Bothadin, and were sending sacrifices to the great deity?"

    Krownded lightly on the ground. "If ever I do, same procedure."

    "Hah. No care for the deity of sacrifice, have you?" Vathan shook his head. "Come on then, I have the skill shard waiting."

    Krow lifted a brow. "Just one skill?"

    Weeping skies, how many rats had he killed for that?

    "A skill you''ve well earned," acknowledged Vathan.

    Finally, one master let him have a skill for half the going price. As a Rare skill though, half price for the skill shard of ultist was still six drax.

    Walking out the temple, a nce at the Map confirmed that the maps drawn by Rare ghost-stone spirits were more detailed than those drawn by brute-forcing Umon monster Bones.

    He thought a burrowing spirit would only mark locations where ores and ethermica could be extracted. He wasn''t expecting that it could actually differentiate environment enough to map a cavern.

    His Map now had an underground level.

    He didn''t even know the Map could do that.

    Did that mean it could conceivably be a 3D map?

    He made a note to find out.

    He waved at Dayirras as he left.

    Recognizing the pir with the Shrine of Knowledge some distance away, his eyes lit up. Krow mbered onto the vine balustrade and stepped off, then double-jumped toward a bridge in that direction.

    He snapped off a grapple-hook and used it to swing upward, gaining air and distance, with a whoop.

    Hended on a bridge with only a slight stumble, startling several people.

    A passel of children, apanied by several who looked like teachers,ughed at hisnding and surrounded him. "Do it again!"

    "That was great, can we do that too?"

    "Sorry," heughed with them. "It only works because I''m this tall."

    "No way!"

    "You can ask your teachers, they know a lot, right? They''ll say the same." He walked along the bridge for a while, until the kids had left, shooting questions at the teachers who were ring at Krow.

    Then he flung himself off the bridge again.

    "You''re still young! What worries do you have, eh?!"ined an aged voice from behind him.

    Heughed and triggered double-jump. This time, hended on the bridge leading directly to the shrine.

    Shrines of Knowledge were small, and didn''t need the prestige of a temple. This one was half-carved into the peak of a pir. In style, it was only a colonnade holding up a stepped pyramidal roof.

    There was a single blue me burning within, on a pedestalled brazier basin.

    Krow stepped up to the brazier. Absorbing a skill was one drax per shard. He dropped a shard and a golden drax into the brazier.

    [The skill Haggle has been added, at Third Apprentice rank, to your ountant subss!]

    It was the first of his fourteen skill shards.

 Chapter 96 - Designated Weapon Bearer

    The second day after arriving in Rakaens, the herbalists took their herbs to market. The orders from the town shops had been delivered the da before.

    Krow, as designated weapon carrier, apanied them to the market.

    He''d already finished most of his business in Rakaens ¨C replenished his bullets and Monstrepel Sachets, bought several more cylinders, and even found some quality Map Pieces for the kingdoms in the foothills and ins.

    So many ce-names struck much familiarity within him that he had to shake off brief nostalgia.

    He''d also managed to spirit-bind his starting shirt and trousers, plus his second revolver, at a Grenod Temple near the street of schrs.

    Gah, the chant for a Grenod binding was so wordy! And he had to do it three times! Krow had to pay for a sybic copy so he wouldn''t make a mistake.

    The fresh market in Rakaens opened every day, not amon feature in most towns. People often had a kitchen garden for their own use, after all.. The average draculkar raised their own meat and spices.

    It spoke to the amount of travelers passing through Rakaens that they could sustain a daily market.

    Krow hefted a basket of frond-filled herbs off the cart and into the rented stall space.

    Two people manned the stall today. Jarihar and Qemi were some years younger than Krow''s physical age.

    Apart from Menrike, they were the youngest of the group.

    Hch and most of the others were off gathering supplies and items the vigers needed. The shops in Cerkanst had sent them for new stock as well.

    The rest under Jamutaltei dealt with the supply contracts the vige held with various entities in Rakaens.

    "Pardon me, do you sell tea?" A woman in the loose white tunic and pantaloons of the desert people stopped by the stall.

    Qemi intercepted immediately, tossing her basket at Krow, who protested with a grunt as he caught it on top of the chest of herbal oils already in his hands.

    "Of course, most of our herbs can be made into teas! Would you like something rxing? The noblesse camamyl flower, steeped in hot or cold water, rxes the mind and soothes the heart!"

    She offered a pale yellow bloom. "The scent is calming, isn''t it?"

    The woman smiled at her earnestness, taking the flower. "So it is."

    Jarihar added, from behind Qemi, "If you crush the flowers into paste, they can make your skin look even younger and softer. The customer of course, does not need it, but perhaps she could rmend the method to her elders or friends?"

    He handed her another flower. Her smile widened.

    The bandages on her wrist showed for a brief moment as she epted the flower.

    Qemi pretended not to notice and asked, "Is there a specific tea you''re looking for?"

    "Camellis Red, in fact."

    Krow nced over. A tea most known for its pain relief and sleeping aid properties.

    Qemi looked indecisive, then determined. "May I suggest an alternative?"

    "Certainly."

    "Bloodstripevender can also be steeped for a tea. The taste is refreshing, the scent alleviates stress. It increases the vitality of the organs, reduces swelling and pain. Of course, it is gentle enough not to interfere with potions. Unlike Camellis Red, it can be drunk multiple times a day."

    Jarihar obligingly took a basket from the stores, and snapped off a sprig of bloodstripevender to offer. "A sample just for you, mydy. If you keep it by your bedside, you''ll surely have good dreams!"

    Krow nced over, almostughed at the double act the two were putting on.

    He''d been around them enough by now to know that under those na?ve-looking faces, there hid a pair of troublemakers. In addition, both received training from a retired Cerkanst soldier, in preparation for the Guard exam.

    They were not so na?ve as they looked.

    He kept his amusement to a smile.

    Qemi nced over as Jarihar took over charming the customer, sent him a look.

    How could she tell? He was wearing a mask.

    He unloaded thest basket, waved at them, and set out to check on the others.

    The fresh market had a lot of herb sellers.

    Not surprising, really. Herbs were lucrative, and farming viges could simply be remade into herb-growing viges. The gap between farmer and herb-grower wasn''trge.

    At least when talking about the moremon herbs.

    Krow eyed the crumbling dried leaves at a stall he passed.

    Cerkanst still held an edge in quality.

    But the vige diminished by the year. How long until other herbalist viges caught up?

    A few years yet, judging by the street of workshops still in Cerkanst.

    By then, Krow hoped it would have recovered to the reputation it had centuries ago.

    He paused to watch one of the herbalists negotiate bags of seed from the caravan stalls. He stepped closer, ran a hand through one of the sacks.

    Seed rained from his fingers.

    [Sunslip Grass Seed]

    [Quality: S][Umon]

    [A product of farms belonging to Damon Trask.]

    A yer farm?

    Of course craftmasters already hadnd. To craftmaster farmers, did farms count as ''workshops''?

    More and more, it seemed like the battle-centric nature of the current Rends was indeed to allow warmasters to gain traction in the game, more than anything else.

    The craftmaster system wasn''t built for wargames. The kludging that urred to reconcile two different systems must have been epic and frustrating.

    From future reviews though, it appeared to have gone well for them.

    Sounds ofmotion took Krow''s attention from the seeds pouring through his fingers. He dusted his gloves off.

    Wait, was that Hch''s voice?

    He exchanged nces with the herb-grower, then headed across the market square.

    "¡­farmer? Hah! Your herbs are just like any other herbs, why should you block other people from selling in your sphere of business?"

    Hchughed. "I think you''re mistaking Cerkanst for, what was that vige that got sanctioned again, for that exact usation¡­eh, Tamvost?"

    Murmurs from the watchers who gathered to watch the fun reached Krow''s ears. They agreed it was Tamvost.

    "What are you saying about Tamvost?! My father would never do such a thing!"

    "Oh!" Hch looked apologetic. "It was you? I hope you weren''t inconvenienced too much by the bans."

    "No!" The user sputtered. "I mean--"

    "That''s good!" Hch pped the other on a shoulder, as if he wasn''t spewing malice against Hch and his vige. "It''s great you got through the sanctions without hardship."

    Krow lifted a brow against the audible scoffs from multiple directions.

    "You mean they''re selling to the dark markets," muttered a voice nearby.

    "Are you implying something?" the user, a draculkar in his thirties, squawked. He knocked Hch''s hand away.

    "I''m not?" Hch looked confused. "What should I be implying?"

    "That we''re selling underground!"

    Krow sighed, rxed his vignce. It was just an idiot.

    Hch looked shocked. "You are?"

    "No!"

    "You said it yourself?"

    That pushed the idiot to the brink.

    "I challenge! Tamvost against Cerkanst!" He gripped the sword at his waist, meaning obvious. "If I win, you''ll give me one of your supply contracts. If you win, I won''t speak a word against your vige again!"

    Oh.

    It obviously had been too early to rx.

    "Isn''t that too uneven?" called one of the shopkeepers. "If Cerkanst wins, you give them a contract as well!"

    Was that even possible?

    "Can you even aplish that?" hooted one of the herbalists. "Kid, your mouth is running faster than your legs."

    "Am I someone to do that?" The draculkar took a scroll from his pouch, threw it at the herbalist. "Do I look like someone to do that?!"

    Hch leaned over. After a moment, he hummed. "It''s a real contract."

    He nced upward. Krow looked as well.

    On a balcony above, Jamutaltei and a couple of the older herbalists had their heads together, arguing. Jamutaltei nodded to them with a resigned look.

    Her eyes roamed the market, settled on Krow. She blinked at seeing him looking toward them. She looked at Hch''s group, then him.

    There was a question there.

    This technically wasn''t one of the duties of a designated weapon carrier.

    But reputation was important in trade.

    Obviously, there was something happening in the background. If they backed away now, it would weaken their position in Rakaens.

    Krow didn''t need to ask what the specifics were. He had not dealt with the old man''s customers for nothing. Trade disputes were brutal.

    Even if he didn''t know that Cerkanst''s trade was being threatened, he''d still do this.

    He had already thrown his lot in with the vige.

    He nodded.

 Chapter 97 - Answering Tamvosts Challenge (1)

    There were no swordwielders in Cerkanst.

    The only one who might conceivably know taught staves, not swords.

    Jamutaltei restarted a conversation with the people in the balcony above.

    Krow deliberately caught Hch''s eye. He removed his mask and the distinctive dark Travelcoat.

    The herbalist''s eyes widened, his lips twitched, turning down at the edges.

    Krow nced up at the balcony.

    Hch exhaled hard, turned his attention to the draculkar from Tamvost. "You think we''d ept such a losing proposition?".

    The other sneered. "What, could it be you can''te up with a contract of your own?"

    Hch reached into his coat, brought out a scroll. He lifted it, a blue woven knot with a seal dangling for all to see.

    The sound of the crowd heightened.

    "A lifetime contract," murmured a siren beside Krow, craning his head from within his stall. "It''s really a losing proposition."

    Krow took a in cream-colored shawl scarf, woven linen, from the siren''s stall. He left two silver serpens on the table. Winding the scarf over his shoulders covered much of the white starting gear shirt.

    Did he look enough like a viger?

    The discussion between the Tamvost representative and Hch wound down.

    He stepped forward.

    Hch sighed again, eyes resigned. "Can you actually use a sword?"

    "The question is: does he even have one?" The Tamvost draculkar snickered. He caught sight of the knives on Krow''s left leg, and his eyes became even more confident. "A butcher? That''s who you send against me? It''s not exciting at all!"

    "If I may," one of the people nearby ventured. "There is a cksmith depetition at the west field. They''re just signing participants now."

    "Great idea!" cried the opponent before Hch could refuse. "I, Dabalt, will have a good warm-up."

    "You might not even fight each other!" cried one of the spectators.

    "Yeah, what about our bets?"

    "Whoever doesn''t reach the semi-finals has lost! Oi, butcher! If you reach the semi-finals, I won''t say anything about Cerkanst again, if you lose before then, you''ll move to Tamvost and work for my family."

    [You''ve been challenged to battle!]

    "That''s better!"

    "ce your bets!"

    Ey, whoa.

    This was supposed to be a private challenge.

    How did it be a spectator sport all of a sudden?

    Challenging non-yers was a loss either way.

    yers found that out quickly enough.

    If a yer won, the rewards were less than a fifth of a PVP challenge. If a yer lost, quests and quest rewards would be lost as well.

    Then there was the fact that unlike yer challenges, which were easy to force, a non-yer had to be goaded into taking the challenge.

    Then there were the non-yers that challenged on their own.

    "Butcher, you take that side," Dabalt jerked his chin to the longer line.

    "And if you lose before the semi-finals?"

    "What?" The Tamvost representative, basking in the attention, turned to Krow.

    "If I get to the semi-finals and you don''t, will you follow to Cerkanst?"

    The draculkarughed, derisive. "Why would I want to go to your vige?"

    Why would anyone want to go to yours? Krow let out a loud sigh.

    The draculkar''s face curdled. "Fine. If I don''t reach the semi-finals and you do, I''ll put in another contract."

    He mmed it down on the registration table.

    That was the third one already.

    Krow nodded, turned to leave.

    "If you win this wholepetition," Dabalt stopped him. "I''ll give you this."

    He tossed a badge beside the contract.

    Krow looked at it quizzically.

    [Greater Trade Warrant Badge of the Cyzar]

    "An insignificant vige like yours, probably never seen anything like it," said Dabalt, smiling. "This is a badge you can use to trade with any town in the kingdom."

    ¡­he could already do that.

    Shkav, were the rules for viges different?

    It wasn''t like there was any other town that was near Cerkanst.

    Krow shrugged.

    Dabalt scoffed at his non-reaction. "Ignorant."

    They separated to different tents. There were only two cksmiths workshopspeting.

    That was great. This might not even take the whole morning.

    cksmiths had limited swords. With lending them to amateurs, the swords would inevitably lose durability and be bent or nicked.

    Most depetitions were PR stunts.

    Krow hefted a sword, simr in style to the one he wielded in hisst life.

    He had nothing against the weapons. He was just averse to having an opponent so close.

    Well, people said exposure therapy worked, right?

    [Avaldan''s Shortsword]

    [Quality: B][Common]

    He twirled his wrist.

    Too light.

    He fell into the stance of a familiar starting motion, his mind seeing the follow-through perfectly. His body was another matter.

    His limbs were longer than before. He was stronger than before, taller.

    He put the sword down, picked up a bigger one, a greatsword.

    The man behind himughed. "Bigger doesn''t mean better, kid."

    "It means heavier though." He tested again, the same motion and follow-through.

    Better, but the greatsword was too long.

    "Do you have something with a shorter de but simr weight?"

    The dwarvir cksmith who''d been eyeing him impatiently, snorted. "Got a falchion here."

    He kicked open a crate, brought out something that actually looked a little bit like his cleaver. Haha, cksmith.

    [Avaldan''s Falchion]

    [Quality: C+][Common]

    Krow tested it.

    Eh.

    He epted the scabbard, tied it to his belt.

    The weight fell against his hip, and his body adjusted ordingly. Like an old friend returning, they fit together even after a long time apart.

    "You''ll have to lose the knives," the cksmith grunted, tossing him a token with the number 157 on it.

    Krow returned to the herbalist group, unequipping the holster and knives from his left leg.

    "You walk like you know how to use that," an herbalist observed.

    "I¡­know the basics?"

    With a weapon not allowed by his battle-ss, the damage and defense were reduced.

    But he still knew the basics, because those were all the skills StrawmanScare had. Even when he chose a path other than battle, he practiced those starting motions religiously for years.

    Zushkenar was not a safe ce for a person who couldn''t defend themselves.

 Chapter 98 - Answering Tamvosts Challenge (2)

    Clouds half-covered the midmorning sky. The breezes blew crisp, still carrying the scent of ate night rain.

    On the west field of Rakaens, four raised tforms were set up. One hundred and twenty-five contestants gathered around each tent, for a total of two hundred and fifty participants in the tournament.

    The air rang with the sound of metal against metal, and the roars of a gathered audience.

    Outside the cksmith Avaldan''s tent, Krow focused through a stretching routine. He wasn''t alone. A number of the participants were loosening up as well.

    Too bad there wasn''t a chance to practice the sword movements a couple of times.

    He''d stand out too much..

    From the quality of most of the participants, not many had the ''formal'' training that warmasters had.

    Dabalt hadn''t been called to the tforms yet, so Krow didn''t know the skill of the other. The way he stood indicated a familiarity with the weight of a sword.

    Could the other recognize the Swordsbearer starting motions incorporated into his stretches?

    Possibly.

    The confidence in which the Tamvost draculkar said this tournament would be a warm-up didn''t sound fake.

    Then again, should he believe the words of a braggart?

    Tournaments like this were a weakness for draculkar, with their low VIT.

    Only by putting most of his stat points into VIT did it keep up with this STR and DEX. Even then, it was still under 50 points.

    He''d equipped his armors except the pauldrons, which were too conspicuous, what with the shadow-tendrils, and the Whisker ne for MP. The rest were in enough to conceivably be used by a butcher.

    He wasn''t worried, currently. Amateur tournament meant under Lvl 15. Most of the fights took five minutes or less to finish.

    Even with his most powerful armors unequipped, and his weapon damage reduced, he could still take at least half the people here.

    "Number 157 of Avaldan!" yelled the referee of his assigned tform. "Aaaand! Number 64 of Tetlochriiis!"

    Oh? Krow knew that name.

    Tetlochris, in Zushkenar, was one of the premier armorers for the White Kingdom, a guild-run group that rose to rule most of Northern Marfall, subordinating several northern city-states under their banner.

    He made des?

    Tetlochris was a non-yer; it would''ve been difficult to switch tracks suddenly. That celebrated Armorer, what did the des he created look like?

    Krow walked up the steps onto the raised tform.

    His opponent bounded up from the crowd, waving gaily.

    A siren, garbed in an outfit that other games might have noted belonged to a ''swashbuckler''. From the cheers of the townspeople, Number 64 was a local.

    "I will say this again: using Spells is a defeat! Going out of bounds is a defeat! A fatal blow is a defeat! Yielding is a defeat! Killing others is a defeat! Maiming others will be prosecuted! Potions are not allowed! Does everyone understand!"

    Potions were not allowed? Shkav. He''d nned to support his endurance with Low Revitalit.

    Still, Krow nodded, as did his opponent.

    "Then <em>begin</em>!"

    The other charged immediately.

    Krow drew the falchion, brought it up, catching the attack on the guard.

    The otherughed, eyeing the de. "You''re the butcher, aren''t you? I am Morumain."

    Krow bent his knees, heaved. The other stumbled back. "And if I am?"

    "As expected, you do have some strength, despite looking like a stick."

    Gah. This again.

    He was slowly filling out, alright?! He''d chosen a gradual growth!

    Should he just have piled the muscles on?

    Tsk.

    The other''s de speeded forward.

    Krow parried, parried again.

    Morumain danced around like a whirling dervish, to the cheers of the crowd. His swordy was full of feints and energy.

    A swordsbearer''s style was more grounded, and Krow kept the stances even as he gave ground before the other''s enthusiasm.

    He yed along, only attacking when it could be as dramatic as possible, slowly getting used to the sword once more.

    Parry, parry, parry otherwise.

    Morumain frowned, took a closer look at Krow. His movements suddenly became more deliberate.

    Krow attacked, parried, stumbled, then attacked again. The suspicion on the other''s face didn''t abate.

    A disarming maneuver that Krow absently twirled the sword to defeat, and they were de to de again.

    Shkav. He''d been found out, hadn''t he?

    What would the other do?

    A grin shed.

    The dancing dervish returned, shier and faster than ever.

    Krow matched his energy, exaggerating some of his movements now that he had a better grip on the sword, retreating and attacking in turns.

    They twirled and leaped across the stage.

    A hundred throats thundered approval.

    It wasn''t like Krow didn''t know what Morumain was doing.

    In apetition like this, thepetitors were of no consequence. They were only numbers.

    Only the swords and smiths mattered. This was a PR show.

    Even themon sword he held was a little more borate than practical.

    The only way for apetitor to gain a little glory was to extend the show a little, and let their name spread using shy moves.

    But sirens had the same problem draculkar had, low stamina.

    Morumain became more serious. A swing nearly battered down on Krow''s fingers, and he knew the other was tiring out. He switched tactics, going for strength instead of speed.

    The other retreated, surprised.

    Krow didn''t allow him room, relentless until the falchion slipped through the other''s guard and rested at his neck. Krow smiled. "Yield?"

    The otherughed. "Yield!"

    [You''ve defeated a Lvl 12 fighter in a duel and gained three (3) silver serpens!]

    "Number 157 of Avaldan wiiiiiins!"

    The tform near buckled at the noise of cheers and jeers alike.

    Krow stepped back, sheathed the sword.

    The other touched fingers to his forehead. "Not a butcher then, my friend?"

    "Not just a butcher."

    "Who is just one thing in the world?" Morumain agreed as they sped arms. "Hfah! I haven''t had such a fun fight in months! I''ll buy you a drinkter! Best spot in town!"

    "Sure."

    They parted as the referee called the numbers of the next participants.

    Krow nced at his clock. Ten minutes.

    That fight was too long.

    He watched the next fights, then the ones on the other tforms. Only a few stood out. There was a female mafmet who liked to y with her opponents, tiring them out before decimating them in a one-sided attack.

    He watched her fight twice before his name was called again.

    The opponent was younger than he was, a draculkar. Krow''s lips twitched as he watched the other strut around the tform, letting his cape flutter in the wind.

    What was with all the peacocks in this town?

    The opponent was fast, but not as skilled or as entertaining as Morumain. Even with Krow prolonging the fight, the youngster yielded in just over two minutes.

    He didn''t have to wait too long for the next fight, then the next. He tried to keep his fights under five minutes but over three. Surprisingly, he managed it.

    When they said amateur tournament, they really meant it. There were under Lvl 10s in the roster.

    [You''ve won ten (10) duels with an unmatched weapon!]

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Easy Prey Badge</strong> from winning ten (10) duels with an unmatched weapon!]

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Sham Swordfighter Badge</strong> for winning ten (10) duels while pretending to be a sword wielder!]

    Oy, he had been a swordsbearer, you know! What sham swordfighter?!

    Also, seriously, how many badges did he have so fast?

    What even was hisst life?

 Chapter 99 - Answering Tamvosts Challenge (3)

    The sun climbed higher in the sky, burning away the clouds to cast its scorching summer cloak over the world.

    Four tforms became three, became two.

    The scent of sweat permeated the air. The referees had the tforms strewn with fresh sawdust several times to preventpetitors slipping on patches of blood.

    Hch brought over a cup of lukewarm water,ced with Low Revitalit. It was the only drink the organizers allowed. "Are you alright?"

    "In this heat?" Krow greedily drank the water. There were several wounds on his torso and legs, but those were minor and already healing. "What''s the news then?"

    Hch was silent. .

    Krow nced at him, saw the draculkar looking worriedly back. "I''m fine, what is it."

    The only serious injury he had was from a Lvl 11 yer, but his HP was slowly recovering from that. A few more minutes and he would be back to a hundred percent.

    "Dabalt finished half his matches in under a minute, and the rest under three."

    Krow grunted. The opponent wasn''t one to hold back, it seemed. A good strategy, really. He was more rested than Krow, who had prolonged most of his fights.

    Ugh. Gaining goodwill in apetitive environment was difficult and tiring.

    "That''s fine. How about the rest of it?"

    Hch grimaced.

    Krow nodded. They needed a decisive win, then.

    "Number 157 of Avaldaaan!" yelled the referee.

    They were on thest leg of the tournament.

    Only ten people remained.

    Krow stood. Being the first to go meant more rest. Excellent.

    Hch had that hidden worried look again. Krow gripped his shoulder. "It''s going to be alright. Just stand strong."

    He walked up the stair onto to the tform.

    His opponent, #81 of Tetlochris, smirked at him ¨C a female mafmet, twirling her curved sword around like it was a toy.

    He stepped. She stepped. They circled each other.

    "You know," she said. "Even if you set your profile to private, you should also change your starting gear if you want to hide that you''re a yer."

    Was he trying to hide?

    From the challenges, yeah.

    She charged, quick as a striking snake.

    Shkav, what was the natural DEX of mafmet again?

    Krow blocked, de sliding against de.

    "Thank you for the advice." He stepped into her block, pushed until she unbnced and leaped away.

    "So what''s your quest?" She feinted, slid her de under his, and twisted.

    He grit his teeth as the bones in his wrist grinded against each other, moved with her follow-through, and kicked to deflect the deing for his throat.

    His quest was to defeat Tamvost''s Dabalt and secure better trade rtions for Cerkanst, because some bleeding merchants bet on everything.

    What was <em>her</em> quest?

    If it was just to win thepetition, she wouldn''t have asked.

    If it was apeting quest¡­

    Krow''s vignce heightened. "Does there have to be one?"

    Wait, this was thepetitor that liked to y with her opponents.

    After a while, he stopped watching the matches ¨C they were too short to gain any sort of useful information, and most of the good ones were hiding trump cards.

    Her de scratched his torso. If he hadn''t twisted to dodge, there''d be a sword through his gut.

    Technically, a yer death didn''t count as actual death in Rends. It was only aa, until revival. She was going for his head since the tournament rules wouldn''t penalize her.

    Shkav. He evaded, evaded again.

    Those weren''t Swordsbearer moves.

    She twisted, flipped into a somersault, boot catching him in the jaw.

    He staggered.

    Ow.

    He dropped to avoid the swing of her sword, but her next attack nearly cut his left arm in half.

    She smiled at the blood sshing onto the sawdust.

    "Also, a private profile still lists your battle-ss, eh, Sharpshooter?" She giggled as he rolled away. "This isn''t even your kind of fight. So why not just surrender, hm?"

    "Do you have to be creepy while asking me to lose?" Krow swung his lower body in a move worthy of breakdancing fame and swept her legs out from under her.

    They both flipped upright. She snarled.

    Shkav! She was suddenly faster. His sword barely parried the thrust sent at his heart.

    Was that red in her eyes?

    He fell backward, brought his feet up, tossed her head over heels to the tform. Scrambled to his feet, as she recovered from having her head hit wood with such a loud smack.

    Her de was rising when he kicked it away, and the tip of his falchion touched the armor above her breastbone.

    In this position, just a small adjustment and his weight would drive the sword into her heart.

    She stared up at him, spat a disgusted curse.

    There was a ring of red spreading from her irises.

    "Yield." The single toneless word didn''t give away the abrupt rm he felt at the sight of those bleeding eyes.

    Berserker.

    "I lost." She snarled.

    "Number 157 of Avaldaaan wiiins!"

    [You''ve defeated a Lvl 14 yer in a duel and gained eight (8) silver serpens!]

    [You''ve won twenty (20) duels with an unmatched weapon!]

    [You''ve gained the <strong>Wolf in Sheepskin Badge</strong> from winning twenty (20) duels with an unmatched weapon!]

    [You have gained one (1) level to achieve Lvl 14!]

    One of the Cerkanst herbalists grinned at him when he came off the tform.

    Tharjan, Krow thought his name was.

    "The Tamvost contingent is buzzing right now. You''ve lost a lot of people a lot of bets."

    Krow drank more water. "Not us, right?"

    The other''s smug look intensified. "No. Definitely not us."

    Krow nodded, still processing that he''d just had a match with a Berserker. He''d just <em>won</em> a match with a Berserker.

    No wonder she''d been toying with her opponents.

    The weakness of a Berserker was they needed time to get into a state of frenzy. But after¡­

    In the armies of Zushkenar, Berserkers were the second wind, allowing their allies a moment to breathe. The frenzy of a Berserker was something to behold, bloody and awe-inspiring, burning HP and MP both to elerate their movements and strengthen their bodies.

    Even with her disadvantaged by not holding a bone weapon, Krow would not have <em>survived</em> if he''d prolonged the fight.

    He''d be in pieces.

    He shook his head. No. Those were higher-leveled Berserkers. A Lvl 14 Berserker would only give him broken bones.

    Probably.

    The crowd roared.

    "Number 157 of Avaldan!" came the call.

    What, so soon?

    Tharjan studied him, worried, pressed a cup of water in his hands. "There''s been five matches already. Granted two of themsted less than a minute."

    "Oh."

    The opponent already stood on the tform. Dabalt stared at him, more serious and enraged than Krow thought was warranted.

    After all, this was the first time they were meeting since the registration.

 Chapter 100 - Answering Tamvosts Challenge (4)

    Krow tilted his head toward Tharjan behind him. "Why does he look like that?"

    Tharjan''s lips curled upward, gleeful. "Thest opponent was the favorite to win the tournament."

    Ah, shkav.

    He''d been hoping the next opponents would keep on thinking he had the skills of a vige butcher.

    His lips firmed as he walked up to the tform.

    Good things came to an end.

    "So," Dabalt spat. "I don''t know what tricks you pulled, butcher! But they won''t work on me.."

    Hah, figured.

    If Dabalt was going to be vignt, he''d just change tactics and stop being so cautious.

    "Begin!"

    Krow charged headlong like he''d never done in hisst matches, hoping to catch the other by surprise.

    Dabalt''s eyes widened, but he had some skill.

    He dodged, leaped back to put space between them, then dropped into a formal stance to parry Krow''s continuing attack, redirecting the falchion to the side and thrusting into Krow''s guard.

    Krow jerked back to avoid that thrust, separated.

    The other was definitely trained. Krow couldn''t brute force this, his initial momentum broken already.

    They circled, tested.

    Dabalt lunged, in a sh closing the distance.

    Krow stepped back, knocked the de away using his offhand gauntlet. He stepped into the opening, was quickly blocked.

    They separated again.

    Krow feinted, danced away, feinted again.

    The point of Morumain''s whirling acrobatic style was finding weaknesses and exploiting them.

    Krow didn''t have the incisive eyes of someone who had fought in countless battles.

    He was a fighter only by circumstance.

    But he could approximate an opening based on the basics and his experiences were often to the death.

    With a sword in his hand again, he was more concerned with not instinctively going for killing blows.

    He feinted again, flitted away.

    Dabalt grunted as his sword struck through air once more.

    "Stop running away," seethed his opponent, lunged again, slicing through Krow''s shirt. Blood welled from the scratch.

    Hit and run style, Krow recalled, was always so irritating.

    Dabalt smirked at the drop of red falling off his de. "I got first blood."

    "If you were a woman, that would be significant. Usually they get it younger though."

    The other answered with a snarl and another swift charge.

    Krow caught the other''s attack, used his momentum to flip him over.

    He stepped back from the wild wide sh.

    Dabalt scrambled up, flushed and ring. "Tricks! Tricks and cowardice."

    If the progression on non-yer de skills followed the same progression as a yer, and there was little reason to think otherwise, Krow definitely couldn''t fight head-on.

    "Do you think so?" He asked as confused and innocent as he could.

    Conscious of being mocked, Dabalt attacked.

    Krow evaded, slid under his de, feinted, then attacked only to be blocked.

    Draculkar were known to have sometimes unnatural speed and, even at amateur level, the crowd was treated to a duel that proved it.

    That speed had downsides though. Krow could see the sheen of sweat over Dabalt''s features already.

    Krow was not unaffected either, but not as much as the other.

    Finally.

    He could see the advantage that putting most of his points on VIT gave him.

    It was just too bad for his opponent that they were both draculkar. Against any draculkar of his level, Krow would be slower but his endurance would surpass theirs by far.

    He''d burned energy by not giving his all in earlier fights, and the recent fight against that almost-berserked mafmet. But Krow had an HP-recovery item that was difficult to acquire at low levels.

    It helped a lot.

    Dabalt grew angrier as Krow flipped and whirled around him, dodging again and again, and yet barely attacking. His swings went wider than necessary, movements fueled by increasing aggression.

    Earlier, he''d actually been a pretty strategic fighter. There was little of tactics in his movements now, none of the thoughtful approach of before.

    He lunged, ovepensated.

    Krow darted in, knocked the swordhand away, leaving the opponent open.

    "Butcher!" roared the crowd. "Butcher! Butcher!"

    What, <em>really</em>?

    Was that his nickname now?!

    Startled, he couldn''t avoid the fist that crashed onto his face.

    He dropped.

    The crowd howled.

    "Second blood to me, still," growled Dabalt. He raised his sword above his head.

    Krow kicked him in the knee, rolled away as Dabalt joined his yowl to the crowd.

    He scrambled up.

    Ugh.

    He usually didn''t need the speed, what with being a Sharpshooter and keeping distance in mind always.

    But shkav, he''d forgotten how immediate closebat fights were.

    Even if he were less skilled than Dabalt, if he had put all his points in DEX, he''d win.

    That was not the case.

    Krow dodged and whirled, darting in for quick strikes and dancing away again. Shaving away at a draculkar''s endurance should not take this long, weeping graves.

    How much had the guy trained? Was he secretly training as an elite in the army?!

    Then the de that whistled past Krow''s ear trembled.

    Krow drove his gauntleted fist into the other''s elbow. The sword fell.

    "Butcher!"

    They stared at each other, the point of Krow''s falchion at Dabalt''s gut. There was a long moment that Krow thought Dabalt was going to use his fists to prolong the fight, those burning eyes held that much rage.

    But then Dabalt stepped away, turned, and stomped away.

    He didn''t even pick up the sword.

    Krow lowered the falchion.

    "Winner! Number 157 of Avaldaaaan!"

    [You''ve won a singlebat challenge against a Lvl 14 fighter!]

    Tsk.

    He turned to leave.

    "Number 157 of Avaldan wiiins the tournament!"

    ¡­what.

    The referee was kind enough to repeat, to Krow''s disbelieving ears:

    "Number 157, mydies, my gentlemen! Avaldan the cksmith takes the tournament!"

    ¡­that wasn''t right.

    There was at least one more fight before the final bout.

    He''d counted.

    No way.

    He''d been nning to lose gracefully after the fight with Dabalt. He was actually surprised they managed to make it to the final leg of the tournament.

    After the mafmet yer, he knew there was no way this tournament could be won by a non-yer.

    Against a yer, he''d definitely lose in a swordfight.

    Something had happened.

    He was about to descend from the tform when the referee-announcer cried. "But wait, there''s more!"

    A draculkar whispered to the referee, who grandly swept his arm in a wide arc. "A champion has risen among the people, to challenge the winner! Randomly chosen from the masses, ast match of honor and might! Will you watch?"

    The audience, bloodthirsty and their stoked fires likely also suddenly clogged by the abrupt ending, bellowed enthusiastic agreement.

    "Number 157 of Cerkanst! An honorable challenge has risen. As the honored winner of this tournament, will you meet this challenger?!"

    Weeping graves.

    Where in that speech was he given leeway to disagree??!

    Something had definitely happened.

    He could only nod shortly.

    The referee smiled at the crowd. "Mydies, my gentlemen! Let us wee the challenger! Our very own, Kelfort Levrade !"

    The named individual strode up the tform, buff and smiling under a helmet that hid his eyes, raised his hands to the crowd.

    He was armored well, the sword at his hip carried familiarly.

    There was an unmistakable air around him.

    A yer.

    Krow could hear the confusion between the cheers.

    Random? Yeah, right.

 Chapter 101 - Answering Tamvosts Challenge (5 Of 5)

    Krow saw Hch pushing grimly through the crowd. He bent down at the edge of the tform.

    "What''s going on? I thought there were other fights before the final?"

    Thanjar shook his head. "One of the winners declined to continue because of injury."

    usible.

    In this situation though, was it believable?

    Hch reached them just as Avaldan did.

    "This wasn''t arranged by us," the dwarvir cksmith rumbled, perceptive eyes roaming over Hch and the two herbalists that apanied Krow through the tournament.

    "It''s fine," said Krow.. "I hope you don''t mind if I continue to borrow your sword?"

    The cksmith inclined his head, made an assenting grunt. His eyes narrowed at something behind Krow.

    He nced back, to see the referee looking away.

    Ho, someone''s in trouble.

    Apart from him, he meant.

    Hch red at the cksmith, then looked at Krow like there was something he wanted to day but couldn''t. Something that could not be said with outsiders listening, likely. Hch, ultimately, decided on: "You could refuse."

    "We both know I can''t."

    The referee had referenced honor and specifically mentioned the vige. They could not back down here.

    "You didn''te to Cerkanst for this."

    "But I choose to do it, just the same."

    "Are the contestants ready?" the referee yelled.

    No rest period, huh?

    Someone really didn''t want him to win this.

    A spark lit in Krow''s gut, a burning ember familiar to him after years of suppressing rage and despair.

    A helpless feeling rose with the roiling of anger.

    The referee went specially to mention he''d won the tournament. That meant the tournament rules were not in ce.

    The other side had undoubtedly stacked the deck.

    There was no way he could manage a victory with this.

    He could not win here.

    But also, he could not lose.

    Krow knew the heady feeling of winning. Until his mother died, he''d considered himself a winner in life. That arrogance had slowly been ground down during his unemployment. He''d lost, and lost again.

    It crumbled to a ruin in Zushkenar, where the feeling of losing had been a constantpanion.

    Slowly, he''d taken back that confidence, a long and hard road.

    But upon return to Earth, the foundations he''d built in another world crumbled and cracked, his confidence once again shaky.

    Funny, that it was Rends that had slowly been building back that ruined self-assurance.

    He had goals, damnit.

    He''d despaired but, in this Rends, he hadn''t lost yet.

    It probably wasn''t healthy to have this much anger, so suddenly, at people who were only doing their ''jobs''.

    But <em>weeping graves</em>, if they wanted Krow to lose, fine.

    He''d give them a loss.

    But that didn''t mean he couldn''t bite a chunk out of them in the process.

    He straightened, smiled. "It''s going to be fine."

    Hch looked even more concerned at that assurance.

    "Fighter Number 157 is allowed potions before the fight!"

    Heh. Not even a name?

    A boy climbed up the tform with a small chest of Low Heals in his arms, smiled at Krow as he offered the potions.

    He took one. "Thanks."

    "Good luck!" The boy beamed at him before scrambling toward the referee-announcer.

    Krow surreptitiously flipped the vial into his inventory, recing it with one of his own. He made a show of drinking it.

    He was sure no one would be so stupid as to drug him with so many onlookers, and three herbalists at his side, but it paid to be cautious.

    The level-up earlier brought his HP and MP to 100%, removed debuffs. But since they were so kind, could he refuse?

    He would be sure to return their kindness.

    "Readyyyy?" Both fighters nodded. "Begin!"

    Swords shed immediately. Krow felt the sting of the impact all the way to his shoulders. He evaded the brunt of the blow, thrust.

    It only scratched the armor. Superficial damage.

    "The paint on your chest is kind of cheap," Krow observed. It wasn''t Rare armor.

    He ducked a swing meant for his neck. It was so fast, he could almost feel the touch of steel at his throat.

    "Silent type?" Then his face fell into sympathetic lines. "Speech defect? I know a few people who could help with that, if you want."

    He dodged a downward swing. The tform cracked under the force exerted.

    The other was definitely not an amateur level.

    Bloody conspiracy.

    Krow parried and dodged.

    He attacked once or twice, but let the force of the other batter him back. Not that Krow was holding back.

    The other was too strong.

    It was not long before blood from numerous cuts stained the white of Krow''s shirt.

    Krow kicked the other''s swordhand. It didn''t budge.

    What was he made of, stone?

    Krow eyed him, estimating his height. The other was tall, but still under the minimum height afforded the magmigant race, who sometimes grew crystals on their bodies.

    The other was <em>that</em> strong?

    He''d only be ttered if they sent a Lvl 20 to deal with poor little him.

    Krow attempted to cross swords, grimaced at the jarring pain, then angled the falchion into the other''s space, nicked the chiseled jawline under the helmet.

    "You know, they say handsome manly faces have a cleft chin. Did they not have that on your avatar editor? Ah, I guess the game thought even full skew on your features wouldn''t make you worthy of it."

    The bodynguage changed from passively irritated to furious.

    The other battered at Krow''s blocks, nearly using his sword like a club.

    "Oh, did I hit a nerve?" Krow retreated, retreated again.

    The most he could do was slightly deflect the blows. Even with the lessened pain of the VR system, Krow''s arms slowly went numb.

    He couldn''t keep this up much longer.

    He retreated.

    "Alright, I understand. You''ll be fine with the cleft jaw I gave you. Can''t say I''m a cosmetic surgeon, though. You better get it looked at by experts. If they even could help."

    That great sword swung, a wide arc.

    Opportunity.

    The edge of the tform was right behind him.

    Krow twirled the falchion, bounced on his feet, blocked with the t of the falchion.

    He timed a double-jump just as the opponent''s de met his.

    Ow.

    Even with double-jump evading most of it, the force rattled his bones. It provided more momentum for the jump.

    He flew through the air, crashed on the sacks of sawdust that prevented spectators from approaching too close to the tform.

    "Butcher! Are you alright?"

    <em>Ow.</em>

    He lifted his head, even that small motion causing pain to crackle through his limbs.

    "¡­out of bounds! Leverad Kelfort wins over Number 157 of Cerkanst!!"

    Krow pushed down his smile.

    The cheers that the other gained at the announcement were sporadic.

    He got slowly to his feet.

    A number of hands assisted.

    It had been a totally one-sided fight. His two hits hadn''t even mattered.

    How could the audience not be suspicious?

    "Butcher, are you alright?"

    Krow put on a pained smile, waved at the nearby spectators. "Thank you. It looks like it''s my loss. Sorry if I lost you money."

    There were a fewughs.

    "That''s alright," came a shout, "it was only a serpens!"

    "I''m honored to mean that much to you," he said dryly.

    Theughter grew.

    He staggered slightly, then limped for a few steps, and then strode toward Tharjan and the others, leaving the sympathetic spectators with a heroic smile.

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Note:

    If you see this work on other websites, know that the author Jin Daoran posts exclusively on webnovel(dot. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 102 - After The Tournament (1)

    Tharjan hustled Krow into Avaldan''s tent, where the cksmith plied him with potions.

    The dwarvir didn''t have to, so Krow thanked him. "Your sword though¡­"

    He held up the falchion.

    The edges had crumpled inward from shing against the opponent''s weapon. The de was bent, made unrecoverable by thatst blow.

    Avaldan grunted. After a brief examination, threw it into a bin. "Scrap. My wrights make the swords for practice. Best leave now, though. Congrattions on your win.."

    One of the people from the registration table came forward. "Wait, you forgot this."

    He offered the badge. "The contract was taken back to the otherpetitor."

    This ''badge'' though¡­

    [Carved Wooden Token][Common]

    Krow smiled coldly at the registrar. "Did you really think I didn''t know what a Trade Warrant is? Now where is the actual badge?"

    The man frowned. "I don''t know what you''re talking about."

    "The bet was a contract if I reached the semi-finals without the other party, and a Trade Warrant Badge if I won the tournament. Does that look like a trade badge to you?"

    Avaldan leaned over, snorted. "The gall of who would pull this under my nose, Pretor. They forget my brother runs a castle."

    The man, Pretor, paled a bit, but didn''t relent. "Master Smith, you know me. This was the item given by the other for the bet."

    "And I say again, you think I don''t know what a Trade Warrant is, what it looks like?"

    He''d never heard of it before Dabalt bet the warrant, actually.

    Avaldan blocked Krow as he advanced toward the registrar. "Pretor, you have worked with me for years. I know this is not something you would do. But tell us, who held the wagered items? If I recall, you were not the only one at the table then."

    Pretor, expression stricken, looked around, and a tinge of panic entered his expression as his co-workers under Avaldan frowned. "I¡­"

    He turned and ran.

    What.

    That was a reaction so stupid, Krow was stunned for a moment.

    Thankfully, he didn''t need to move. Two of the cksmith''s students tackled Pretor before he even got near the entrance.

    "Pretor¡­" Avaldan gave a pained sigh. "Search him."

    Another two of the cksmith''s workers came forward.

    "Stop!" Pretor struggled. "Master, I have studied under you since I was twelve! You cannot¡ª"

    "Master." One of the students reluctantly held up a badge. Pretor went limp under the hands of the others.

    Avaldan took it, examined it. His shoulders slumped. He turned to Krow and his group, and his eyes zed. He bowed. "I apologize. I will of course,pensate for the poor judgment of my student. Will you allow the questioning and punishment to remain with me, as his teacher?"

    Tharjan and Krow nced at each other. Krow shrugged.

    Tharjan nodded. "If Derkhol can remain for the questioning, we have no objection. We do not me the master or his workshop for this."

    Beg to differ.

    Krow med them a little.

    This disaster of a tournament was their doing, wasn''t it? The referee too, was likely bribed. Master Smith, do you pay your employees?

    But that was only a minor pique, so Krow let it go.

    Avaldan nodded and gave Krow the warrant.

    [Greater Trade Warrant Badge of the Cyzar]

    "I apologize once again."

    Krow shook his head. "I''m sorry as well."

    Avaldan grunted in acknowledgement. "That warrant. You better keep it well. Rare, to see one of those."

    Eh, was it so valuable?

    Krow ced it into his inventory.

    Leaving one of the herbalists behind, Tharjan and Krow left Avaldan''s tent, taking a less conspicuous exit in the back.

    "We should return to the courtyard." Tharjan slid into a narrow alley.

    Krow unequipped the scarf, exchanged it for his usual outfit and mask. "You go see the others. I have things to do still."

    Tharjan watched him flip the hood up, shook his head. "Tamvost would be seething. If they found you alone¡­"

    "I''m better with a revolver than a sword." He equipped his guns with a sigh of relief. He''d been so used to wearing them now that he felt a little unsafe without them.

    Tharjan nodded after a moment of hesitation. "Don''t be too long. The others should be heading back as well."

    It was just after mid-afternoon, the hottest part of the day.

    Krow watched Tharjan slip out the alley into a pedestrian street. He nced up, seeing the Rosetower over the tops of the buildings. He strolled out the alley, headed in a different direction.

    Where was the nearest tavern again?

    He looked around for someone to ask. Then his eyes caught on the universal depiction of a barrel and cup. ''Bad Horse Tavern'' the sign said.

    Oh.

    There was one right across the street.

    The taverns that traders frequented were near the caravansaries. It may be clich¨¦ but undeniably, alcohol loosened tongues. Krow went looking for information about Tamvost''s situation.

    Conceivably, he could ask the herbalists. But different perspectives wouldn''t go amiss.

    Unfortunately, it wasn''tte enough in the day that people were sloshed enough to babble to a stranger. Krow sighed, in the third tavern he entered, sat at the bar.

    He didn''t think this through, obviously. He gained more information walking the streets listening to gossip than at the taverns.

    What was this gossip about Rakaens oppressing the smaller viges?

    The barman lifted a brow, Krow lifted a finger, and secondster a cup of brabat slid across the bar.

    Krow downed the beverage. It was immediately reced.

    Hm. Good service.

    He guzzled the second, was about to call for a third, when a hand grabbed his arm.

    His revolver was pointed and primed, before he recognized the other as Morumain. He holstered the gun, sighed. "What is it?"

    "I knew it! Are you going to drown your sorrows in this cheap swill? I promised you the best tavern in town!" The siren beamed, ignored the dark looks he got from the barman and several others in earshot.

    Krow paused.

    nced down at what he was wearing.

    The guy recognized him in his usual clothes? He narrowed his eyes.

    "It was a suspicion only," Morumain soothed, deducing the reason for his re. "But sirens can recognize voices very well, you know."

    Tsk. He did know that.

    Krow tossed a serpens to the barman as Morumain pulled him out the tavern door.

    "Where are we going?"

    "The Dragonsinger."

    "The best tavern in town, I suppose."

    "You know it!"

 Chapter 103 - After The Tournament (2)

    The Dragonsinger Tavern was ssier than the caravansary taverns ¨C it had fresher straw on the floors.

    Morumain chivvied him up to the second floor, snagged a pitcher and two cups from a server, and sat them at a private booth. "You''re the talk of the town, my friend."

    Eh?

    He''d heard nothing though.

    Morumain chuckled. His sharp eyes caught Krow''s confusion.

    "Due to the admittedly ignoble actions of others, Rakaens is now being used of deliberately attempting to force Cerkanst to turn over their trade contracts."

    His brows rose. "That''s a stretch.."

    "Not really. The town, thesest years, has made a point of favoring certain of therger viges."

    Morumain went on to say the herb trade was diffused between a number of small viges in the area, after the monopoly Cerkanst enjoyed fell through with the destruction of the Cerkanst herb fields.

    "The announcer implying that the extra challenger was from the area didn''t help," Krow hummed.

    "That''s right."

    "So people believe Rakaens ns to consolidate the local herb trade into a single vige again?" If that vige wasn''t Cerkanst, Krow couldn''t allow that to happen.

    Morumainughed. "If there were such nts, you definitely put them on hold! The trade councilor at the Rosetower is definitely getting overwhelmed byints."

    Um, really?

    Krow only understood that the odds of winning thatst fight were basically zero.

    So his spur of the moment n was to manufacture sympathy for Cerkanst, and maybe cast some doubt on those trying to nder the vige.

    He never expected it would spawn a mini-riot.

    "It''s not surprising." Morumain took a swallow of his brabat. "It''s not the first time this has happened. So a lot believe the rumor that the town''s responsible for thatst fight targeting you."

    "Was it?"

    "No." Morumain snorted. "But your performance was too pitiful, my friend! Too frustrating! Not fun at all!"

    Krow ignored thest part. "You seem sure it wasn''t the town?"

    Morumain blinked, then smiled sheepishly. "Ah, my family is in the apothecary trade, a minor yer only. We mostly source our herbs from the markets. That kind of minor."

    "It''s not minor at all to own a workshop in a major trade town." That was true, especially a workshop that involved monster materials.

    That pleased the other, even as he waved away Krow''s words. "No, no. But you still haven''t told me, are you really sorrowed by that defeat?"

    He was, a bit. He lost that fight, and that rankled in the part of him that maintained a childish need for visible sess.

    Krowughed silently at himself.

    He didn''t even care about the tournament. And yet he felt so possessive over its victory?

    He shook his head. "Not as much as people would expect."

    It seemed he achieved his goals after all.

    "Good. It was a travesty."

    He eyed Morumain, sipping on his drink. "Do you know why Tamvost would target Cerkanst?"

    Morumain put his drink down with a thump. "You think it was Tamvost?"

    "Not thest fight." That was an intersecting yer quest, he still believed. He hoped whoever those people were, would choke on their victory. "The final bout of the tournament."

    "Oh." Morumain looked him over, lifted a brow. "How many fights did you have in that tournament that weren''t actually about the tournament?"

    "Eh." Just the three? And Morumain, who''d been fighting just for fun. Krow shrugged.

    "What do you know of Tamvost?"

    "It''s an herb-growing vige, attempted to throw its weight around, got sanctioned." Krow enumerated.

    "Basic. It''s also a vige in the shadow of Sukgaijer Mountain. The Bandit''s Highway. It hasn''t been proven that the viges in that area cooperate with the bandit strongholds on the mountain, of course, and the numerous incidents are just typical of being so close to thatwless mountain."

    "And?"

    "People are saying Tamvost is tearing itself apart, between the people who want to move the vige away from Sukgaijer and those who want to stay. The head of the vige has his hands full, that''s certain. He needs to unite his vige, or suppress one side."

    "And he came after Cerkanst because?"

    "The same reason it''s believable that Rakaens targeted Cerkanst. Your vige holds the supply contract for the Arunbold apothecary." Morumain sighed, starry-eyed. "Arunbold is the most prestigious apothecary in the bordends. It has ties to high nobles and various tradepanies."

    Krow marked the name.

    "As long as Cerkanst has the contract with Arunbold, a creation of a single herb-growing vige would not be profitable enough for Rakaens."

    Because Cerkanst was unaffiliated. It would not be under the authority of Rakaens.

    Krow was surprised.

    It looked like there were more positive points to Cerkanst than he thought.

    Morumain sighed. "It''s odd though. Tamvost shouldn''t have made a move here. They don''t have enough power for that. And if I''m correct, the head''s son lost three contracts to Cerkanst?"

    "Two."

    "Two. As I was saying, Tamvost is too constrained to be throwing around that kind of recklessness. They''re banned for three years from trading in Rakaens. Not to mention the rumors of them dealing underground."

    "So they have a backer." Krow stated. "Someone that would benefit from Cerkanst losing its contracts."

    Morumain hummed. "Too many people would benefit, really."

    Krow tapped his fingers on his thigh, thinking. "Who is the first in line for the Arunbold contract, should Cerkanst lose it?"

    "Oh, I like how you think." Morumain slouched on his chair, looking at the ceiling. "There are several ces that grow herbs that approximate Cerkanst quality. But of them¡­Tumungast, likely. It''s a small town, but their advantage is that they''re on the trade route across the border. Arunbold trades with the cities in the foothills, so Tumungast would be the best choice."

    "And Tamvost would cooperate with them?"

    "Certainly. They''re closer to Tumungast than they are to Rakaens. If Tumungast expands its herb trade in the next few years, Tamvost would gain a new market."

    "Something to think about." It was all just spection.

    But who knew this swashbuckler-fashioned siren would discern so much?

    Krow sent the other a smile. "I want to ask, would you care for a continuing cooperation?"

    Morumain lifted his brows, but leaned forward. "I''m listening."

 Chapter 104 - After The Tournament (3 Of 3)

    Evening had fallen when Krow returned to the courtyard.

    Their host, Chaparha, was walking in the garden with Jamutaltei. They were deep in discussion, so he only nodded at them as he passed.

    But Chaparha called his attention. "You''ve done well today, Krow."

    "Better than expected," he agreed.

    Chaparha studied him, surprised. "You don''t seem too caring of your loss."

    "It was not a fight I could win." With a sword, anyway.. "I knew that going in."

    "And you epted still?" Chaparha huffed. But waved away a response. "No matter. It shows you have a head on your shoulders at least. Unexpected, for one your age."

    Krow lifted the edges of his lips, but didn''t reply.

    "A good trait for a guard. I suppose I could see why that old man hired you. If you had won¡­" Chaparha shook his head. "perhaps the consequences for Cerkanst would have been worse than simple rumor."

    They would?

    Krow thought over the information he knew.

    "We might have been used of hiring a mercenary to settle the dispute," Jamutaltei murmured.

    ...ahaha, the irony.

    Technically,dy, that was basically what happened¡­

    Krow cleared his throat. "That wouldn''t have helped the usations of strong-arming the herb trade, I guess."

    Their host boomed out hisughter. "If Tamvost tries to say that now, anyone who saw your ignominious defeat would mock them out of town!"

    Yes, yes, it was very pathetic. He''d like it if everyone stopped saying so now.

    "Did things on your end go well?"

    "Better than expected," Jamutaltei echoed, wryly. She considered him for a long moment, then inclined her head. "I apologize. I didn''t realize it woulde to that. It is not for the young to fight the battles of the old."

    Chaparha sighed at that, nodded.

    Krow appreciated the sentiment.

    He agreed with them. But in practicality, all his near-forgotten history sses said that most wars were fought by new generations fighting for old grudges and old sins.

    "I epted a job to protect the delivery," he shrugged. "That guy from Tamvost was being very threatening."

    Jamutaltei sighed. "You helped more than you know."

    He sent her a smile, lifted his brows. "If it is so important, then the vige head should just increase my pay."

    In RP, if possible!

    Chaparha snorted, chuckled. "Exactly. Boy, bleed that sour old raisin dry!"

    Amusement lifted the corners of the other''s lips. "If father does not do so upon our return, then I will take it up with him."

    A few more minutes of chatting with the two elders, and they let him go wash up for dinner.

    Even in a virtual world, the realism engine meant he needed a shower and bath every now and then.

    He sent his clothes to be washed ¨C even with Allclean enchants on them, there was just something to the feel of clothes that were newly washed that wasfortable.

    The armor pieces, he cleaned in the bathroom himself. When he got out, his clothes were dry and waiting for him.

    Newly showered, with clothes smelling lightly like spring, he was refreshed. He walked down the corridor, steps jauntier.

    Derkhol, the one they left with Avaldan, stood outside his door, telling a story enthusiastically to Hch and Menrike.

    When they saw him, Derkhol grinned. "I got your prize!"

    "My what?"

    "From the tournament." Menrike looked like she thought he got his head bashed one too many times in the fights.

    "Ah, right. What is it?"

    "An anvil." Derkhol smirked and tapped the chest beside him with a booted foot. "Avaldan said I could choose, so I got you the fanciest anvil there!"

    Menrikeughed. "How cheap. They couldn''t spring for at least a sword?"

    So true.

    An <em>anvil</em>?

    The hell would he use that for?

    Avaldan and Tetlochris were cksmiths. They probably had enough anvils that they could toss the unused ones as cheap tournament prizes.

    It could havee in handy in hisst life, but not this time around.

    "What does a fancy anvil look like?" Menrike wondered. "Can it still be used? My brother was given a fancy sword once, and father said it wasn''t a real sword."

    "It''s not a showpiece. Avaldan said it worked. You can check for yourself."

    "Do you have cksmith skills?" Hch, who''d been eyeing him, spoke for the first time. "I heard strange rumors about a masked man in ck going around the town workshops."

    "I don''t know cksmithing," Krow knelt to see what sort of anvil was ''fancy''. "Also, should you listen to weird rumors like that?"

    "Uh-huh. How will I entertain myself, then?"

    "I''m sure something will pop up."

    Menrike grinned at Hch. "Do you know, I heard the son of the richest man in town bought a whole wardrobe from the capital for one of the daughters of the merast. Everyone was talking about it. Do you think there''s going to be a wedding soon? Such a scandal, if there isn''t, don''t you think?"

    Hch''s face nked at the first sentence, and his eyes turned to the other two males there.

    They avoided his gaze.

    Guy brought that on himself.

    Krow opened the chest. His brows jumped.

    Behind him, Hch made an indistinguishable sound.

    "This isn''t an anvil." He got over his shock, running a finger over the decorative-seeming ritual lines criss-crossing the item.

    He''d only ever seen the one that Ortholian used. It was more jeweled and borate than the one before him, but there was no mistaking the build.

    "What? Did that cksmith cheat us? He <em>said</em> it was an anvil!"

    Krow looked up at the herbalist. "Avaldan saw you take this, specifically this? And he said it was an anvil?"

    Derkhol blinked, indignation derailed. He frowned. "Yes? I showed it to him."

    "Then we''ll say it''s an anvil."

    Derkhol stared at him, then the hunk of metal inside the chest, decorated in silver and gold. "What''s it actually, then?"

    Krow''s grin split his face.

    Before he could say anything, Menrike turned and her eyes blew wide. "Oh Divinities, is that an Enchanter''s Forge?"

    Krow''s grin widened even more.

    It definitely was.

    He checked his quest page.

    [You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:Hometown Herbtown:|</strong> and ensured that Cerkanst remained in the herb trade, gaining +80 Experience Points, +3 Golden Drax, +10 Reputation Points in Rakaens, +25 Reputations Points in Cerkanst, and +1 Greater Trade Warrant Badge of the Cyzar!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Sub-objective: Defeat Dabalt!</em>, gaining +20 Experience Points, +15 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Win the cksmith de Competition!</em> with 21 wins, gaining +20 Experience Points, +2 Golden Drax, +5 Reputation Points in Rakaens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Investigate Tamvost</em>, gaining +20 Experience Points, and +1 Reputation in Rakaens!]

    [Quest Completion: S]

    Wait.

    S-rating?!

    He checked the Quest.

    <strong>[|:Hometown Herbtown:|]</strong>

    [Category: Rare]

    Ah, no wonder. A Rare quest. Common and Umon Quests go up to just A+ rating.

    But where was the Enchanter''s Forge reward?

    There was another quest? He noted it was more recent than the Herbtown one.

    [You''ve conflicted with the Silver Phoenix Guild in the quest <strong>|:Ondarun''s Request:|</strong>, and gained +1 Enchanter''s Forge! You have gained -10 Reputation with the Silver Phoenix Guild. Due to your previous merit with the Silver Phoenix Guild, you''ve gained no enmity!]

    [Quest Completion: B]

    Oh.

    Hah.

    Silver Phoenix again?

    He''d sharked something from them again? Weeping skies.

    Good thing he didn''t believe in fate.

    "Hey, do you know someone named Ondarun?"

    Hch answered. "He''s the merast of Tumungast Town, in the Forest near the foothills. Why do you ask?"

    "I heard something earlier, when I was looking for information about Tamvost."

    The other eyed him. "The badge thing, Derkhol was just telling me, was Dabalt wanting the trade warrant back."

    Krow frowned. "Why''d they not deliver it with the contract?"

    Inefficient.

    "The imitation wasn''t finished yet."

    Krow nodded, contemtive. "You told someone?"

    Hch snorted, grinned. "Of course, who do you think I am? I told everyone who would listen. Tamvost''s reputation, by this time tomorrow, will be lower than the mire."

    Krowughed. Hch was awesome.

 Chapter 105 - The Ordinary Cave

    Dinner was celebratory. Cerkanst had dodged a possibly major upset, and Krow won them sor against Tamvost''s usations.

    Chaparha broke out the wine.

    A passel of children trapped Krow after the tes were taken away, wanting to know what the tournament was like. It had been an hour already, embellishing details about the opponents he faced.

    He couldn''t escape impolitely; the kids were the host''s grandchildren.

    Menrike stuck her head in the doorway, smirked at his predicament.

    Krow narrowed his eyes.

    ''You''ll owe me,'' she mouthed as she gestured..

    Tsk.

    Kids these days.

    But he was desperate. He nodded.

    "Young ones," Menrike stood in the doorway, projecting all the maturity she didn''t show at ordinary times. "Krow still has to pack."

    Various sounds of protest answered that.

    "If he doesn''t pack," said one genius, "does that mean he won''t be leaving tomorrow?"

    Menrike smiled, threatening glee at the edges.

    Krow red.

    She relented. "No, but he won''t be able to do his work, and you all know what happens when you don''t do your chores."

    Multiple pairs ofrge doleful eyes were turned on Krow.

    He forced a smile. "I do have to go."

    "But you''lle back, right?"

    "We''ll see."

    "That means ''yes''!" one of the older ones whispered loudly.

    No it didn''t.

    But the children nodded, like the one had spoken gospel, and let him stand up.

    "Bye, kids."

    He speeded away from the room, doing his best to not look like he was running away.

    Menrike snickered at him. "You owe me two favors."

    "One."

    "I could go back there and tell them¡­"

    Gah.

    "Fine."

    They were minor favors anyway.

    Jamutaltei and the others cut the trip short, which had Hch and most of the others frantically running around the town earlier, trying to get all the needed supplies together.

    That Hch and a couple others took the time toe by thepetition field touched Krow a bit.

    They were leaving tomorrow, instead of in two days.

    Krow waved at the gatekeeper and the group of herbalists who were on their way out for ast night on the town. Orst-minute purchases.

    He headed away from the town proper, using double-jump to bounce from root-bridge to root-bridge.

    His spirit-worm scout had finally found some of those weird pebbles in a ce that wasn''t underground.

    Notpletely underground, anyway.

    He headed north of the town, noting that the area appeared mostly residential. At least, there wasn''t as much lighting and noise.

    The cave the spirit-worm found was past the edges of the town, on another mountain.

    It was a wet cave.

    The drip-drip-drip of water falling from stctites echoed in the darkness.

    Krow lit amp with the Firecoil spell.

    Where the light touched, the surfaces glistened with moisture.

    "Appear." The spirit-worm materialized at his side. "Lead the way."

    It dove into the wall beside them.

    Eh?

    He tapped on the wall.

    It was solid rock.

    This idiot ghost¡­did he look like he could pass through walls?

    He dismissed the spirit-worm and brought out the spirit-snake. It should keep to the tunnels, right?

    It slithered into the same wall.

    He stared at the stone. Was it a wall that attracted ghosts?

    He sighed at his thoughts. "Nevermind."

    The now familiar flutter of wings had him ncing up at the vid-owl. He did a double-take.

    The vid-owl was clinging to a spur of rock, half behind a stctite. That was normal. The thing lurked.

    Only this time, it was upside-down like a feathery bat.

    "Does the saying ''when in Rome, be as a Roman'' apply to you?"

    The vid-owl just fluttered its wings and ignored him.

    Tsk.

    These animals¡­he gave up.

    Krow studied the Map. The mark, a white rock, was¡­before him and a bit to the right. He lifted themp and started into the cave.

    Half an hourter, he stood on the edge of arge underground pool. Pretty, he supposed, with the rock crystals reflecting the light of themp.

    The water was unimaginably clear. Krow saw right to the bottom of the pool.

    The bottom where the scout-marker insisted he go.

    Hah. Did the universe decide he didn''t have enough of a bath this evening?

    He walked along the edge of the pool. Looked uninhabited.

    He stopped at a part where the edge of the pool sloped into the water.

    He''d just pretend he was gauging his underwater skills. Krow left themp on a rock, shining onto the water and the crystals, and waded into the pool.

    Gah!

    Cold!

    He waited for his body to adjust to the temperature, then continued in slowly until his head submerged.

    [You are underwater.] a notification informed him.

    You think he didn''t know that?!

    Another set of symbols appeared. [0:00:29:59:34]

    Thirty minutes.

    Nice, but still not enough.

    He jumped from the ledge he was on, to sink to the gravel-filled bottom, about ten metres below.

    The stones of the pool were smooth. Like river stones that had been rolling around the riverbed for a long time.

    He crouched down, scooped up a handful, looking for the ''ordinary'' pebbles.

    His timer ran out, and his HP started ticking down, Krow only found three.

    He kicked upward, surfacing and sucking in a breath.

    He wiped the water off his face.

    He''d been expecting more.

    Could it be the spirit-worm marked just the pebbles simr to the one he showed it?

    Tsk.

    He called the spirit-snake, showed it the pebbles. "Look for material like these."

    The spirit-snake sunk into the water and slithered away.

    Krow exhaled.

    He had to leave Rakaens tomorrow, but since it was less than a hundred kilometres away, could he find simr mining spots closer to Cerkanst?

    He took a deep breath and let himself drop to the pool bed again.

    Six more times, he surfaced to take a breath, before giving up.

    A nce at his Inventory said he gathered about thirty ''ordinary'' stones.

    Obviously, it wasn''t the mine that he was looking for.

    He still didn''t know if he could use them in enchanting, but thirty was enough to experiment for now.

    The Map indicated his spirit-snake had found a few locations.

    Should he stay the night here, or go back to the courtyard?

    He nced at his clock.

    Ah, it was Monday. He had work.

    He didn''t anticipate any problems, there, but still, he should get ready.

    He pulled himself from the pool, sat at the edge to let the water run off his clothes and body.

    Krow smiled.

    This trip to Rakaens had been eventful, definitely.

 Chapter 106 - An Ordinary Workday (1)

    Eli padded out his door on too noisy feet, toweling wet hair.

    He was getting too used to Krow''s nearly silent stride.

    He stretched, then paused at the sight of Jori and Zee in his living room.

    It was just past nine in the morning.

    Didn''t they have work?

    They were walking Bel through the advanced basics of a VR headset.

    Oh good. He''d be able to connect Bel with his virtual workspace.

    He sounded a wordless greeting, moving to the kitchen.. "Hungry, you three?"

    "Morning," Bel looked up. "I added some things to the grocery list."

    Eli nodded, perused it.

    These were¡­fresh food?

    "Ugh, cooking." He frowned slightly. "Aren''t you studying still? Leave the cooking to other people. My non-cooking habits are well-documented in the nearby grocery deliverywork."

    "I need the exercise."

    "Then visit the gym with me. You can walk the treadmill andugh while I try to follow that stupid aug-trainer."

    Jori raised a brow at that, slightly disbelieving. Zee only smiled.

    But they said nothing, which was slightly unnerving.

    "Where do you go?" Bel asked.

    "The park gym nearby. They put walls on, it''s not too cold."

    "Alright."

    Eli nodded. She''d already seen his schedule for thest few days, so she could join in her time.

    He removed the cooking ingredients, noted that there was only a small amount of meat on the list, most was vegetables, tofu and ¡­cheese?

    He looked for foodpaks with those ingredients, and several fruit packages and green sds. He kept the cheese on the list.

    A thought flitted through his mind, and he paused before sending the order. "Do you actually want to cook? I wouldn''t want you to stop your usual stress-relieving hobbies just because."

    Jori smirked at him for some reason. Eli ignored him. Who knew what went through that mind?

    Bel blinked. "Oh. No, cooking is not my¡­but it''s fine if I cook."

    Eli added several types of bread to the order and sent it off. "Just use the shopping ount attached to the apartment if you want anything."

    His mom preferred baking, and neither of them used the kitchen for more than that. Because of that, he had a ton of loyalty points at the grocery stores and a pretty nice discount.

    Then he set his eyes on the two who had been suspiciously silent, their eyes moving fascinated between him and Bel."So? Hungry? I got cereal or foodpaks. Take it or leave it."

    Jori shrugged. "I''m always ready for free food. Where are your cereal boxes, Crewan?"

    They gathered in the kitchen, arranging themselves on the stools.

    "Don''t you two have work?"

    "Half day," Zee reasoned.

    "I am at work," Jori poured a whole container of cereal into his bowl. "And no one is saying otherwise."

    Eli was baffled. "Who''d we tell? I don''t even know where you work."

    "No reason for you to."

    True enough.

    Bel and Jori, the heathens, took their milk on the side.

    Zee, in aplete affront to decent cereal-loving people everywhere, ate his cereal with the vored milks that shops tossed in free with a certain amount of purchases.

    Eli nced at the carton.

    Watermelon-Apple milk? What even.

    "So, suddenly you needed an extra headset?" Jori crunched on his dry cereal.

    "Bel''s helping me with work." Eli poured actual pure milk into his cereal, like the world was supposed to.

    "The tour maker thing," Zee nodded.

    He was friends with the guy who rmended Eli, so him knowing wasn''t surprising.

    "What tour?" Jori downed the cereal in his mouth with a swallow of milk. "Does the city have some new attraction I haven''t heard of?"

    Eli couldn''t help his smirk.

    Jori was the kind of gamer who lived the game. A true fan.

    "Virtual tour coordinator," he rolled the words off his tongue slowly. "For Rends."

    Jori''s spoon paused. "Oh you better be joking."

    Whoa. Eli had only seen eyes like those in Zushkenar, before a fight.

    It only made his smile widen. He shook his head.

    Jori lowered his spoon. It nked against the ceramic bowl."We''re going to be dodging tourists now?!"

    Eli shrugged. "A good test of your DEX."

    "A good test of--?! Zee, don''t stop me, let me at him! Crewan, just when you were starting to be tolerable¡­"

    Eh?

    Was Jori saying he was semi-tolerable now?

    Actually, Eli thought so too.

    But he only blinked, widening his eyes in innocent surprise.

    Jori''s eyebrow twitched.

    Actually, after arguing for a bit about various methods, it seemed the higher ups hade down on high with an edict: they were going to instance the tourist areas.

    Eli got the message yesterday.

    So the gamer world was going to exist slightly separate to the tourist areas ¨C mingling in some ces and side by side, but in most ces, they were half a dimension apart.

    Like some of the contained dungeons in the game.

    The reason for the near-separation was the transport tickets only avable to the tourists, which could be used to ess different tour locations. Even across continents and kingdoms.

    Eli wondered how Norge felt about that.

    The game creator had been pretty insistent in interviews that the only instant transportation method in the game would remain the Gates in the gate-cities.

    Oh wait, that registration chamber was essed by portal too, wasn''t it? Something like a portal anyway. Eli wasn''t actually sure.

    In any case, instant transportation was limited in Rends and Zushkenar.

    So far only the Marfall and Amvard Gates were in use.

    When were the Mer City and Jaquergar Gates discovered again? Eli couldn''t recall. But they, along with the Isles of Night Gate, were opened before the Quake.

    Norge had always said the number of Gates was fixed long ago.

    The tourist thing must be pretty important, if RSI got Norge to concede even this much.

    Still, the basic tour n had Norge''s fingerprints all over it. Most VR tours so far were less borate than what the VR tour unit of Rends was doing.

    Too bad for Jori.

    It looked like the feature was here to stay.

    Jori leaned forward, eyes intent. "You''re actually not serious, aren''t you? You''re just messing with me."

    "Why would I do that?" Eli kept a straight face as he put the bowls and spoons in the dishwasher. How many times did the guy ask that question? Six? "Is there some reason I would do that?"

    A sound of frustration answered him.

    Zee hauled the severely annoyed Jori away. "We just came to see how you two were doing. We actually have somewhere to be, so see you bothte--"

    The door closed behind them.

    There was a short silence.

    "I remember you mentioning the tour areas would be restricted against yers."

    Eli nodded. "No weapons and no armors allowed in the tour areas. There are already game areas where those rules are enforced, so yers are used to simrly restricted areas."

    "That doesn''t stop people from fighting."

    "There are no safe zones," Eli agreed. "But if you think about it, neither does Earth."

    It took centuries beforews became enforceable enough that protected ''safe zones'' were created for the citizenry.

    With the increase of fighters in Zushkenar, guards and protectors and enforcers would also increase. Guildns would create safe ces for themselves and their allies, and startying the groundwork for peace.

 Chapter 107 - An Ordinary Workday (2)

    Eli took up the unboxed headset.

    It was one of the enhanced MarkVIIIs. Thebels remained the original, not changed to the fake Premium ones.

    "Are you alright with using this?" He hefted the headset. "I don''t have to go to thepany, so I can show you around the site."

    "We used old MarkVIIs in school with virtual modelers. I''m familiar with the basics of a GT headset."

    "Good. We''ll be a while, so you''re using the bio-cradle. Come on." Eli wasn''t about to let the pregnant girl use the lessfortable option..

    He exchanged the headsets, his Lazybones for the modified MarkVIII. "I''m giving this headset ess to my work ount, so one moment."

    "You sure you won''t get in trouble for this?"

    "No, RSI has a pretty robustpanywork. There''s ess amodation for an assistant, even for a lowly tour coordinator like me."

    It was parsecs better than the system at his oldpany.

    He straightened, waving her to the bio-cradle. "Your ID will be logged inpany files, though. Does your school allow that?"

    "It''s fine. I''m rated for internship."

    Many schools didn''t allow work-study arrangements, preferring to lower or waive tuition for students so they could keep focus on study. And some schools only gave permission for internships to students who have proven they were able to handle a fuller schedule.

    Eli interned at sisterpany of the one he eventually worked in.

    "All good?"

    Bel nodded, settling into the reclined seat of the cradle. "Yeah."

    The headset lowered over her temples.

    "Alright then." He checked the temperature again, and the apartment stats. There was a notification that his grocery delivery would be scheduled forter this afternoon.

    He acknowledged, then adjusted his Lazybones headset,y down on the bed.

    He entered the virtual workspace.

    The project program was already open, so it shunted them directly into the Crescent Firebloom Monastery.

    Eli nced at his new assistant.

    Hah. He wanted tough.

    Others would be marveling at the view. The girl''s attention was entirely caught by the stone of the pirs of the elevated balcony they spawned in. She ran awed fingers over the ancient construction.

    "So real¡­" he heard her murmur, nearly starry-eyed.

    Eli let her and the pir have their moment.

    He tapped his holo-bracelet and studied the traffic model Bel had put together. He ported the data to the program.

    Instantly, generic avatars appeared and started to popte the monastery.

    Monks, tourists, tour guides, random characters.

    Bel walked up beside him, looking around. "The ce is bigger than I thought."

    "Big enough for 10,000 people looking for solitude and meditation," Eli agreed.

    "Not quite, I think." She pointed. "It''s the reason for the numerous small gardens within gardens, and the shape of the architecture. It''s pretty broad theory, but there are examples in the books that say ayout like this prevents people from feeling crowded."

    Bel looked up, squinted. "Are people supposed to climb up to those?"

    A handful of small inds floating in the sky blocked out some of the sunlight, the visible structures on some of them casting interesting shadows on thend beneath.

    "There are flying monsters used as transportation. And skills that allow yers to jump that far."

    "A fantasy world," she murmured to herself.

    "Looks too real?"

    "No, thank god."

    Eli smiled wryly. Even at a realism percentage of 95%, the floating temple inds were too fantastical, huh.

    "Shall we start?"

    "Yeah, let''s go. Are those people from your modeler program?" She started down the stairs, paused. ced her hand on her inted belly. "My body feels lighter here."

    "It''s an avatar body ¨C the initial form is approximated from the bio-cradle data scan. You can adjust your virtual form if you want."

    She was silent for a moment. Then shook her head. "No. This is fine."

    Her hands started moving.

    Eli knew she was setting up notifications and pinned status indicators. Medical data, he assumed, so he walked down the stairs before her.

    She caught up and they walked around, listened to the simted tour guide monks, watched the flow and ebb of people from noted points of interest.

    Circling the central area of the monastery, they ended up at a tower window high above, watching people move below.

    "It''s too fast," Bel observed.

    Eli nodded.

    The walking speed mode of the modeler was not the walking speed of a tourist wanting a rxing stroll.

    "Too logical," he added. People meandered, they got distracted, they asked a lot of questions and threw off the schedule, they wandered off and got lost.

    They definitely didn''t follow obediently behind a tour guide. Not always.

    He opened the modeler program, sketched in a few tforms in various ces. "Let''s add in your falling meditation."

    "Wha¡ª?" Bel jumped when a tform appeared on the cliff the tower was built against.

    "That is¡­let me do that." Her voice was a little pained as she opened the modeler with her own holo-bracelet. "This thing has a perfectly good in-program library of shapes and textures. Why aren''t you using it?"

    Eli thought he had adequate artistic ability.

    Watching Bel manipte a few basic shapes, stretch and slice and put them together, then match the style of the tforms to the surroundingndscape of the monastery though¡­

    He was now very sure, that he had only adequate artistic ability.

    He swiped his fingers through the holo. Chairs appeared, anachronistic against the stone of the surroundings.

    "Oh, thanks."

    He left her to it and started programming new routes for the simted tourists.

    Different paths for those who came to sightsee. Different paths for those who came for peace and quiet. Different paths for those who came for solo meditation, falling meditation, group meditation.

    The tforms appeared one after the other on his modeler as Bel finished each.

    He rerouted and restructured. They ran model simtions and discussed.

    "Mist? Just hanging there?" Bel argued.

    "Just here, and here, in the morning andte afternoon. We can suspend most activities in the area until the mist can screen the groups of people from each other."

    "More like rolling clouds than mist, if you want it thick enough to prevent sight."

    "That''s fine. This is an initial pitch. There''ll be others looking at the project before it''s finalized. At this part of the n, best keep things to concept."

    She agreed and helped him fine-tune the movement of the constantly shifting mist.

    "How much freedom do you have, changing the environment?"

    Eli paused, eyed her. Always aplicated question, with an artist.

    "Very little. The tforms and weather are likely the most we can do on this project. Nothing that stands out."

    She sighed. "Too bad."

    "You say that like you didn''t argue for a specific color of stone to ent a tform people just jump off."

    "It''s soothing like that!"

    "Having fun, though?"

    She huffed. "Yes. I thought it would be less involved than this. Thanks."

 Chapter 108 - An Ordinary Workday (3 Of 3)

    "Ten minute break. I''ll be right back, sorry."

    Eli looked up from where he wasposing his project report, to watch Bel''s avatar close its eyes and slump against the chair.

    Thetest simtion run seemed the best of them so far. They both decided it was as much as they could do at the moment.

    They''d slowed down the walking speed, so the tour encouraged silent contemtion between points of interest, when the guides started talking again.

    But paperwork, weeping skies.

    He had to note down the data, exin why this and that were changed, added, modified. Ugh, rationale. Every bit of data needed a reason to exist..

    Bel had been re-running the simtion when she suddenly stood and announced a ten minute break.

    He stood and stretched.

    A break would be good.

    When Bel returned, he was re-running the simtion in slow motion, pouring out his thoughts onto his project draft.

    Bel watched the simtion, frowning a little. "It''s chaotic, isn''t it?"

    "People are chaotic. It''d be messier than this during the actual tour." Eli saved a few tweaks. "You can only direct people so much. And many of the realworld tourism rules won''t apply to a VR tour."

    Realworld tourism had a ton of restrictions, mostly to preserve the locations and items.

    In the decades before VR, it became more fulfilling to visit tourist areas in 360-degree augmented reality video than actually travel in person to the sites.

    "This is enough for this project''s preliminary design, actually." Eli saved their work. "Ready for the next one?"

    "How many tour locations do you have?"

    "Just the two. The coordinators are still in probation." Eli vanished the chairs with a wave of his hand. "We get ess to the locations databaseter. Next month, maybe."

    Then he''d have a queue of tours and entertainments to coordinate.

    Eli returned them to the virtual workspace.

    He nced at the clock. They''d been working for a few hours.

    "Ah, it''s been that long? Lunch?"

    "Can we see the other location first?"

    "Sure."

    Eli gestured through his options, closing the monastery project and recing it with a filebeled ''vowste100034523.siml''.

    They appeared on a spur of rock, a wastnd before them. Seething volcanoes, shadow canyons, broken buttes and mesas against a smoky horizon, the environment lit with the eerie red glow ofva rivers.

    It appeared to be uninhabited. Not even ruins.

    Bel looked at him.

    "I guess some people like the post-apocalyptic aesthetic?" Eli essed the task list.

    ''Build a tour'' was the only item there.

    Hah.

    The coordinators were being tested.

    Bel nced at the holographic list.

    At the instructions, her eyes lit up. She opened the modeler, already focused.

    Eli essed the game database on the Magmigant race, the people he knew lived in and near volcanoes.

    Since it was apany database, the data was moreplex than the information in the official marketing releases.

    His research was interrupted by a soft cackle from Bel.

    He was not mistaken. It was definitely a cackle.

    A twist of her hand and a massive shape appeared in the air above them.

    No¡­it only looked like it was above. The size was deceptive.

    It fell¡­no, it descended from a height that Eli was sure was deliberate, massive size creating eddies of wind, immense weight crushing everything under it as its mass touched earth and sent up a great re ofva and smoke and debris.

    When the explosion cloud settled, a massive stepped pyramid rose on the far horizon, brobdingnagian even against the great mountains there.

    It wasrge enough that, even with the expanse of wastnd between them and the pyramid, Eli could tell it was made of ck metal, the surface carved in hieroglyphs and grand statues, gleaming purplish against the red glow ofva.

    At various points, the hieroglyphs glowed a pale sickly green color.

    Eli stared at it, then expressionlessly turned to Bel, whose eyes were shining.

    "Excellent pyramid!"

    "What."

    "My ancient architecture teacher says that to people who design the best models using ancient building techniques. Even though we never modeled a pyramid. I always wanted to build one because of him!"

    "Far be it from me to criticize your childhood dreams," Eli nced at the monstrosity again, "but does it have to look like it''s powered by the souls of the damned?"

    Bel wordlessly waved an arm around the hellscape currently surrounding them, still grinning, her eyes set on the new addition to theva-riddled bands surrounding them.

    "Point." Obviously, she was inspired. "But, more practically¡­"

    Eli highlighted a line on the project page, bringing it to the fore.

    [Data Allocation: 323 Z /200 Z] (Warning! Overextended data allocation.)

    The hell did she put in that thing in just five minutes?

    That was enough data to sink the Earth''s moon into.

    She nced at the warning. Despite her glee having been able to create that overgrown paperweight, she only looked slightly disappointed.

    She giggled giddily onest time, then returned to the modeler. The pyramidal horror disappeared. A wave of a hand, and thendscape returned to its¡­pristine state.

    "Check magmigant architecture in the database first."

    "Mh."

    Eli took out a tform from the modeler and added some pre-programmed parameters. It floated.

    He needed to check the geography, but he already had a few ideas.

    He stepped onto the tform. "Bel."

    "Uh? Oh, yeah, I''ming."

    The modified tform lifted them into the air, moving across the wastnd.

    Magmigants hadva gardens. And earthdrake racing was a thing. He tapped the handrail of the tform. Were there flying monsters that would thrive in an environment like this?

    "How about this, then?"

    Another structure grew nearby.

    It looked like fern fronds curled around each other, as if protecting a bud, tips pointing to the sky, reaching. She had cut out most of the mass, leaving a semi-hollow interior.

    It still looked like a ce where dark lordsired.

    "I figure fifty of these before the data runs out."

    That was one way to build ava garden, Eli supposed.

    "Have you seen the images of a magmigant forge?"

    Bel blinked at him. "You want me to bury them?"

    "Or build them over theva rivers. I think we might be somewhere in the Shattered Continent, in that case we can argue a divergent culture. But not fifty ¨C we need most of the data to build the tour, not the buildings." Eli contemted the structure. "We could have a garden theme. Rxing, don''t you think?"

    "Is it?"

    "Yeah. Something like, ''Have a tea, watch the world burn.''"

    Bel''s face contorted in disbelief. "Get out."

    Eliughed.

 Chapter 109 - The Road Back (1)

    In the southern bordends, no caravan traveled before dawn. Being so close to the Grandshield Forest meant more shadow beasts active after moonset.

    Krow remembered several caravans in Gremut packing up and leaving before sunrise. Further away from the Forest, travelers had fewer worries.

    The trip back to Cerkanst was unsessful.

    That was what Krow would like to say. The world, as ever, didn''t cooperate.

    There was a fallen tree on the road.

    Wind was always a consideration in the high mountains of the draculkar. But wind that deposited old mossy trees perfectly perpendicr across the road?.

    That wind came with grasping hands.

    The herbalists immediately armed themselves. Krow watched, slightly fascinated, as knives and daggers appeared visibly on hips. Three people dug out bows from the depths of the cargo, and they bunched the carts closer together.

    They waited.

    Nothing happened.

    The air filled with unease.

    "I''ll check the trees." Krow offered.

    Two of the stealthier herbalists, Qemi included, joined him.

    The mountain was quiet. A warning in itself.

    Krow bounded into the tree-line, leaving the nearer sections to the others. They wouldn''t be able to keep up with his Forester skills and his DEX.

    "Equip-one."

    He probably shouldn''t have left them, but at the least, he could thin out the numbers from the back.

    It was a simple matter to send out his ghost scouts.

    Finding the bandit camp wasn''t a problem.

    The problem was that the bandits were children.

    Krow crouched on a branch, frowning.

    Six people in the clearing.

    The only one above the age of twelve or thirteen was a mafmet lying in the shade.

    Injured, old blood and new staining the mess of cloth around his torso.

    The faded marks on his skin spoke of old age. Mafmet hair didn''t really discolor with advancing age, but their birthmarks paled in intensity and their ws toughened to rival steel.

    Even downed, the old mafmet was still armed.

    Krow circled the camp, noting that at least three other people had been here. From how the two lookouts were sending nces toward the road, this was indeed the bandit camp.

    He dropped in front of the two lookouts, close enough to see their shock and wide eyes.

    They screamed. Loud. High-pitched.

    Ow.

    He flipped away, started running toward the road.

    Hopefully, the screams would draw theirpatriots to break cover. If they were armed adults, it would only help hispanions. If they were children as well, then the others would know to stay their hand.

    He was ignoring this quest prompt, though.

    A sh of movement against the green trees in the distance caught his attention.

    Something pinged on the Map.

    Krow nced at it. There was a scout-mark moving on the road, traversing the same route the carts had just taken.

    Oh, that was possible now?

    Ghost-stones were really useful.

    Another group of farmers?

    The scout-mark was moving too fast, though.

    Krow climbed up on an overhang to see the road.

    It was a group of riders.

    Any other time, Krow might have discounted it, but they did just cut their stay in Rakaens short because of themotion with Tamvost, who failed their scheming and lost two contracts to Cerkanst.

    He slid closer to the road, keeping low.

    The intentions of the approaching eight riders could not be ascertained. He was still designated weapons bearer. The visible one, anyway.

    He could just confront them on the road and ask them what they were doing in these here parts, hombres, like the old wild west revival movies of thest generation.

    He had the needed gun-twirling down already.

    He just needed to practice the moustache-twirling more.

    Krow mentally snorted at his thoughts.

    They weren''t helpful.

    He took a survey of his surroundings, then an idea caught hold as he noticed one thing.

    Well, this mountain was just full of fallen mossy trees, wasn''t it?

    It wasn''t quite fallen, still connected by the barest roots to the earth, it tipped precariously.

    Krow pushed it into position, just above a perfectunching spot.

    Shkav, the riders were close.

    He hacked at the roots keeping the tree in position. It slid easily downward.

    They were close enough for Krow to see the ears of the lead horse perk up. The leader reined in his horse, looking upward.

    In the noise of the tree falling, Krow tied some Paralyzing Mist Vials to grapple-hooks and connected them to several bushes and trees.

    The tree crashed down on the road, slid over the stones, and tipped half-way into the gully beside the path.

    The cut roots were right in the group''s faces.

    The leader''s eyes roamed the mountainside again. "Come out!"

    "You''re surrounded!" yelled Krow, internally groaning at himself for this. He tugged a little on the ropes, bushes and trees rustling. "Leave the horses, the valuables, and the boots!"

    The five people looked at each other incredulously. Then they guffawed loudly.

    "Are you a bandit, then?" one giggled.

    "You don''t believe me? This road is mine! This mountain is mine!" He made his voice more theatrical. "Leave the toll, and I''ll let you keep your lives!"

    He had experience with weird childhood cartoons, alright?!

    The leader chuckled.

    Krow pulled a couple of his ropes again. The man''s eyes pinpointed the rustling with scary uracy.

    The leader smiled upward. "Since you''re a bandit, I should tell you I''m a bandit too. Let''s talk, eh, brother?"

    Whoa.

    What now?

    The ruse would be up the moment he showed his armor.

    "What sort of bandit looks as ragged as your bunch, eh? Tell me that! And those horses, what bandit rides horses like those, hm?"

    Krow didn''t actually know what kind of horses they were. But could bandits with clothes like those afford the horses?

    The leader sighed. "This isn''t funny anymore. Rog, Hattrek. Kill them."

    Two of the riders jumped up the mountainside, as easy as gazelles. Heading for the

    "You traitor to the brotherhood!" Krow bellowed, in his farewell to the role of bandit. He twisted and pulled on the ropes.

    The Mist vials broke.

    He jumped to a mass of boulders, quickly drank a Low Revitalit, drew his gun and fired a half a cylinder of bullets toward the bandit leader.

 Chapter 110 - The Road Back (2)

    A snapping sound sounded to the right.

    Krow pivoted, quickly sending five bullets into the shadow in the bushes.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 12 bandit and gained four (4) silver serpens! 1/10]

    They really were bandits.

    He half-thought it was just the leader mocking him.

    Then his eyes stuck on thest symbols.

    Ten?

    He only saw five.

    Where were the others? .

    A small crackle of dread bounced down his spine.

    He nced at the Map, expanded to a local view.

    Tsk.

    The spirit-bird must have only passed above. Enough to mark the group, but not the individuals.

    He called the ghost-snake back. "Find the enemies nearby."

    The snake dove into the undergrowth.

    A few seconds, and a red dot blinked into existence on the Map.

    That worked.

    Several more dots glowed into being.

    The leader must really be confident in his people. He was still on the road with one of his group.

    Krow had killed one.

    Two more on the mountain.

    One lower and the other was¡­

    Krow dived behind a tree.

    The hooked de of the chain-sickle grazed his temple as it followed, drawing blood. The edge of the wickedly curved de shed.

    It buried itself in the tree trunk beside Krow''s head.

    Eyes wide, he could feel his hair curl at the close shave.

    Chain weapons were rare in Marfall Continent. They were moremon in the inds of Amvard, the seafaring people there.

    There was a yer guide in the future that would mention it was a great secondary weapon for a Swordsbearer.

    Krow pulled the sickle out of the trunk, strode the short distance to a small drop and jumped. He heard a grunt and a crash behind him as the bandit was dragged forward.

    A double-jump upward and their eyes met. The other''s pupils dted in shock, registering the revolver barrel aimed right at his head.

    Krow emptied the cylinder.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 8 bandit and gained two (2) silver serpens! 2/10]

    Hended beside the corpse, reloaded.

    A sharp pain in his shoulder staggered him. He dropped, rolled behind a bush, pulled out the dart embedded into the scapr area of his back.

    Minor Paralysis, his status offered.

    Shkav.

    He quaffed a Revitalit and double-jumped to a mass of boulders. Better cover.

    The scout-marks on the Map hadn''t moved.

    Gah, useless. It wasn''t tracking the enemy?

    He called the spirit-snake back. "Track the enemies nearby."

    The snake slithered off.

    The thwip-thwip sound of two objects cutting through air had Krow dodging. He studied the surrounding area. The other bandit couldn''t be seen.

    Stealthy bandits? Whoever heard of stealthy bandits? Most stealth-heavy criminals stayed in the cities!

    Or were there assassin bandits now? Weeping skies.

    Most rural bandits were pige and burn types, highwaymen, low-grade thugs. The Bloodcrows, being arger and more diverse group, did have assassins.

    Were they Bloodcrows?

    Krow nced downward, to the dead bandit. They didn''t dress the part, to be honest.

    He inhaled, let out a long breath.

    This was taking too long. He still didn''t know where half this group was.

    The red marks on the Map flickered. Finally.

    Krow oriented himself.

    He charged, leaped, twisted in mid-air, revolvers aimed upward at a mass of tree-roots under an overhang. He shot a single shieldburst first, catching the darts that flew at him. Then the darkspears. Four rounds, five, six, seven.

    Nine before the notification pinged.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 15 bandit and gained five (5) silver serpens! 3/10]

    The Paralyzing Mist was still dissipating when Krow strode out of it onto the road. Wordlessly, he began shooting.

    He was well aware of the intimidating look of the dark on dark armor and coat, ented in white,ing out of the mist.

    Looking slightly menacing, he found in hisst life, worked wonders with a certain type of negotiations.

    ¡­if only people would stopmenting on the gangly frame of this avatar, shkav.

    Everyone under Lvl 13 looked like they were in the middle of a growth spurt, alright? He was Lvl 14 already.

    Unfortunately, he hadn''t been nning toe out of the mountain at all.

    But once more, the enemies had moved from thest scout-marks the spirit-snake made.

    Apparently real-time tracking was out on individuals?

    How was that logical?

    Fine.

    That was fine. Even this much was incredibly useful. More than he expected when he chose Ghostcaller, really.

    The two bandits on the road recovered from his hail of darkspears, because the leader came at him full confidence, like a hurricane.

    Was it a yer?

    Krow deflected a mace from caving in his chest with his revolver, retreated to put space between them.

    The leader''s form flickered as the other charged.

    What?

    He quickly drew his second gun, shot a shieldburst.

    Two maces crashed onto the barrier. The leader''s form flickered again, hazy, and he was right in front of Krow.

    A movement spell.

    This was definitely not an ordinary bandit, despite the poor clothing.

    Krow blocked again, tried to retreat, but the other locked his maces with Krow''s revolvers.

    [Lvl 17 Bandit Captain]

    [HP: 3200][MP: 821]

    No wonder the man was spamming his movement spell, with that much MP to burn.

    Not a yer though.

    The man smiled, almost weing. "You are the mercenary I hear the farmer vige hired?"

    So someone did notice him being the designated weapon bearer.

    And hah, suspicions confirmed; this was an attack aimed at Cerkanst.

    "And who hired you?"

    He kept his voice low and even. Nothing at all like his brief role of Krow the bandit, king of the mountain, may he never live again.

    "If you want a better deal," the bandit hummed, then his eyes crinkled in humor. "Then I''d tell you."

    This was¡­a recruitment?

    Bro, he just swore off being a mountain bandit, alright?

    Krow grunted nomittally.

    "Yourpatriots on the mountain are dead, and I assume, so are mine." The bandit continued. "You get a treasure, I get a skilled subordinate. What do you say?"

    ¡­his ruse was that believable?

    "All you need to do is give us the butcher and the vige head''s daughter. Two people, one hundred drax."

    Oooookay then.

    Haha.

    Obviously the man hadn''t noticed the butcher knives sheathed on his left leg.

    Thank you, Travelcoat.

    He gave way, twisting his wrist to knock one mace out of alignment, freeing his guns.

    "Too bad." The bandit leader chuckled. He stepped back, a smirk forming on his face.

    What?

    A force crashed against his ribs. He flew sideways, wrapped around a tree.

    [-8% HP]

    Ow.

    Thest bandit!

    He flipped to his feet, both guns out.

    "Equip-one."

    Krow went cold.

    Non-yers were able to quick-change armor in the middle of battle. It was an ability specially seen in mid to high-level bosses. But that specific phrase¡­.

    That was yer-only.

 Chapter 111 - The Road Back (3)

    Three people stood on the road, obviously in contention. Two eyed a third predatorily.

    The third''s attention was on the smaller of the two men.

    [Amonrei Lvl 16]

    [HP: 3940][MP: 260]

    The yer was helmeted. Greaves, scale boots, a pretty nice leather cuirass, and armored battle-gloves.

    To get 8% off Krow''s HP, armored as he was, those battle-gloves had to be at least a D Rare.

    The yer stood in ssic boxer''s stance.

    Fistfighter battless..

    Two closebat types against Krow. One of the two with a movement spell, the other with the system assist and a good weapon.

    The odds were¡­

    Maybe about even.

    Those weren''t good enough odds.

    Krow calmly changed out his revolver cylinders.

    Surprisingly, the others let him.

    Their loss.

    He kicked it off with a double-jump, hurtling toward the bandit captain. They skidded across the road.

    The yer ran speedily after.

    No movement spell, to Krow''s relief.

    He could focus on one of them for now.

    Kiting the bandit away from the slower yer, a running battle, he shaved off chunk after chunk of the bandit''s HP.

    He flipped around a boulder, nced back as he reloaded.

    The bandit wasn''t following.

    Calling and sending off the spirit-snake, he rested for a moment. The Map updated. Krow cursed.

    The two had managed to rendezvous.

    He drank several Low Heals, replenishing his HP.

    He hadn''t noted any long-range ability in both of them, so without caring for stealth he headed toward the red dots.

    They attacked from the trees.

    Krow retreated but, this time, the bandit captain didn''t follow.

    He''d been seen through.

    Shkav.

    He couldn''t draw the battle out.

    It had been ¨C he checked his clock ¨C slightly over half an hour since he saw the riders on the road.

    That was too long to leave a group he was protecting.

    Fine.

    He pulled out both guns, attacked. The second contained only shieldbursts, but it kept the other yer away. Most of the time.

    His HP was down to 43% when the bandit leader died.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 17 bandit captain and gained twelve (12) silver serpens! 4/10]

    The two yers stared at each other, back on the road.

    "The farmers must pay well," the other said. "You wasted so many bullets."

    Krow stayed silent.

    The other snorted. "You should know the pay from towns is bigger, since you have those pauldrons. Rare, right? You didn''t get those here, did you?"

    "Near the capital," Krow answered. He didn''t get them from a quest though. And it wasn''t the pauldrons alone that was Rare.

    Does that mean the guy finished a quest with a Rare weapon as a reward?

    Cool.

    Most yers started finding Rares near Lvl 20 or so.

    Amonrei nodded. "Right? I haven''t heard of any good quests in this area."

    Did he¡­expect Krow to share?

    "Craft quests."

    Amonrei grimaced. "You take those? They''re a distraction. You¡­" He looked closer at Krow. "Are you a¡­role-yer?"

    Technically, they all were.

    But the term ''role-yer'', in general, was the yer who acted as their avatar, a particr character they made up with borate backstories and even specific quirks and mannerisms different from their realworld self.

    Rather than the avatar only being the outward ''casing'' of the yer self.

    The term also expanded to include yers who didn''t conform to the main ''theme'' of a game.

    To the warmasters of this expansion of Rends, at this current time, Krow supposed someone who chose to be crafter would be seen as a ''role-yer''.

    Krow smirked, sudden.

    "I''m a monster hunter."

    It was the first time he''d ever said it out loud in Rends.

    "Uh, sure." The other studied him. "You''re a Lvl 14. Do you know, the XP gap between Lvl 14 and 15, then 15 and 16, isrger by proportion than between other levels? The stats are increased too."

    Krow did know that.

    It was why the amateurpetition in Rakaens only epted contestants under Lvl 15.

    Therger XP gaps and stat bonuses happened every fifteen levels.

    In the forums, they unofficially called them ''tiers''. They were implemented because¡­

    Huh.

    ¡­actually, Krow had no idea what they did.

    "You are telling me this because?"

    "I actually wanted to leave a long time ago, since the questpletion would give me a poor rating for getting the others dead. But your armor, it''s too good to pass up." He smirked. "I''m a Lvl 16, you understand?"

    "Ah." Of course Krow understood.

    But his reaction to people telling him to justy down and die would always be the same.

    He attacked.

    "So what?" He asked. "So what if your level is higher. Am I supposed stay quiet and let you do whatever you want? A mere Lvl 16? A mere XP gap?"

    He holstered his second gun and drew the smaller of the butcher''s des. He swung. A sh cut through the other''s armor.

    Amonrei stumbled back.

    His eyes were irritated. "Levels are everything. If you don''t know that, you''re a child. So just give me the pauldrons, and we''ll be on our way without you losing one of your lives."

    "Then you would win this fight, wouldn''t you? Just because your level is higher than mine?"

    "That''s what I''m saying."

    Krow nodded. He shot the rest of the cuirass off the other, breaking its Durability enchants.

    "Whoever told you that," he stated. "was an idiot."

    The stats of a Fistfighter were tilted toward DEX and VIT, allowing for light armors. They flitted through battlefields like gnats, stinging. In small groups, they sabotaged formations, and were an all-around headache.

    In a one-on-one fight, even against weapon bearing sses, they were devastating.

    Fast, durable enough to tank in a pinch.

    Above Lvl 15, able to conduct a fight almost like one of those fancy cultivator kung-fu masters in movies.

    Almost.

    If Amonrei had any kind of movement spell, Krow would have lost.

    "This is impossible," the other ground out, dodging one of Krow''s darkspears, but then being herded into another shot by a shieldburst.

    Krow double-jumped away from the other''s fists and feet again, shooting as he retreated.

    [You''ve defeated a Lvl 16 yer and gained one (1) golden drax!]

    [You''ve eliminated 5/10 bandits!]

    He''d actually officially joined the bandit group?

    The other yer''s body faded into a ghost and coalesced into a sh of light that shot upward.

    It would head toward whichever town or vige the other had set as his revival area.

    Revival using the extra lives was instantaneous.

    But travel time was another matter. He won''t be able to return for some time.

    Krow reloaded and headed to where he left the others.

 Chapter 112 - The Road Back (4 Of 4)

    The bandit horse galloped fast, but the animal was already exhausted. The bandits must have ridden them hard.

    Sweat dripped off the horse''s dark nks and its breathing came in puffs of steam.

    Krow spotted the herbalist carts at the same time that red flickered on his Map.

    He reined the horse in, ignoring the lookout who tracked him with a nocked arrow.

    The scout-mark on the Map was ahead of them.

    Obviously an ambush.

    But they were also¡­underground? Krow exhaled a breath..

    He''d left out the spirit-worm to scout for more of those pebbles as they traveled. It was only luck that it passed through the correct section of tunnel and managed to detect the rest of the bandit riders.

    "It''s Krow!" called one of the herbalists.

    He blinked at the sound of his name, then waved sheepishly.

    The sound of the horse approaching obviously had rmed them. The tenseness of the group, now that he was paying attention, could be felt from where he was.

    He jumped off the horse.

    Jarihar skidded to a stop near him. "Nice armor, did you buy that in Rakaens?"

    "No." He''d checked out the local shops though. Fairly good selection; unfortunately, he didn''t have the drax for the good pieces. "Things are good?"

    "We caught two of the bandits. They''re younger than Menrike, can you believe it? But where''d you get the horse?"

    "Regr bandits. Nothing like your baby bandits at all."

    Jarihar scoffed, crossed his arms. "Bandits are bandits."

    "And it''s not over yet." The scout-mark hadn''t moved from its ce, but he was a bit uneasy. He was still getting used to the ghost-stones ¨C he hadn''t fully tested them.

    And he did search out ghostcaller guides. There was only one and it was a negative review.

    Hch came up beside Jarihar, patted the horse. "Found the rest of them, I see?"

    "I fought a group," Krow agreed. "But I don''t think they were with the children. There''s a camp¡­" He pointed in the direction of the children. "that direction. Young children. The only adult is injured."

    "There are two groups of bandits?" Jarihar was dubious.

    "The bandit captain who owned this horse might have recognized me. He said he was told that Cerkanst hired a mercenary as protection."

    The other two''s faces tightened.

    "I didn''t get all of them," Krow continued. "But apparently there''s a tunnel nearby? It leads ahead."

    Hch came to the same conclusion. "Naekrin''s Cave. An ambush."

    "You know about the tunnel?" Krow was surprised. A security hole like that¡­ "Why hasn''t it been blocked?"

    Hch sighed. "It has. Most of the obvious entrances anyway. It''s not actually a cave."

    No?

    "It''s part of awork of mining tunnels through this section of mountain." Hch continued. "Most of the tunnels are local knowledge, something that kept the viges around here from being wiped out in the ancient wars against the ins. We have long memories."

    Jarihar nodded. "That''s why no viger would tell anyone who didn''t already know about those tunnels."

    "It''s not unusual that bandits would find them and use them. That''s why Rakaens has a regr Guard recruitment. Bordertown Guards are sent on long patrols to root out unwanted tunnel inhabitants."

    "Naekrin''s Cave opens one kilometer ahead." Jarihar pointed out. "We should attack."

    Ah. The scout-mark hadn''t been a kilometer in front of them.

    The ambush hadn''t been set up yet.

    "I''ll go," Krow nodded.

    "I''ll go with you," Jarihar smiled, slight excitement in his eyes.

    "No."

    "It''s a good idea," Hch interjected. "The cave mouth is a bit difficult to find. And some of the others, with one of the archers."

    "You only have three." Krow pointed out. "Just Jarihar will be fine."

    "If it''s as you said, the danger behind has been neutralized and it''s more dangerous ahead. We already cleared the tree. We just have to deal with the children and we''ll likely meet you ahead."

    Krow relented. "Not the archer though. I already have my guns."

    No sense in turning away a guide and people to protect that guide. An archer woulde in handy in ambushing the ambushers, really, but three archers were barely enough to protect the carts.

    Wait, could his ghost-scouts find a location if he only had the name?

    Probably not.

    Ghostcaller was one of his tinker subsses ¨C he was stuck in apprentice-rank territory and that didn''t give advanced skills.

    "Oh, also, there are several bandit corpses on the mountain behind. Just follow the road. Can someone help with that? They really didn''t tell me much. There might be a clue to who sent them."

    Krow had been in too much of a hurry to search them.

    All this over a single supply contract with a major apothecary?

    Vicious.

    Hch stayed behind.

    Jarihar, Tharjan, and four others went with Krow.

    With their speed, a single kilometer was traversed in minutes.

    Krow cautiously circled the cave opening.

    He dismissed the spirit-bird and sent out the spirit-snake.

    The cave mouth was indeed difficult to find. It was overhung by vines and mossy branches. Not veryrge. If Krow hadn''t been led toward it, he wouldn''t have found it.

    There was no-one in sight.

    He smiled, waved at the others.

    Tharjan came beside him, eyes alert.

    "There''s no one here, yet."

    Tharjan nodded. "Then we wait."

    "There should be five of them, but I might be wrong."

    "We''ll be ready."

    He pointed upward to a grassy ledge on the cliff overlooking the cave. "I''m heading there."

    The spot had a view of the opening and much of the overall surroundings.

    Tharjan understood.

    Krow bounded up to his designated lookout and sniper spot. He watched as the others arranged themselves in semifortable ambush positions.

    He nced at the red scout-mark on the Map.

    Suddenly, it jumped.

    Startled, Krow tensed. The difference was about four hundred metres.

    What?

    Why were the bandit riders the only one that had a moving scout-mark?

    He shook his head.

    Even more importantly, the enemy was less than a hundred metres away.

    Krow dismissed the spirit-snake. Would they have been spooked by the ghost?

    He raised his arm, waved at the others below.

    The others tensed as he did, armed themselves, and melted more cautiously into thendscape. Krow drew his primary revolver.

    They waited.

    Only a few minutester, there was movement in the cave mouth. A horse neighed.

    The tunnels wererge enough for horses?

    In the distance, on the mountainside, an answering whinny.

    They all froze.

    Krow''s eyes widened. If he''d thought the horses would betray that things with the first group hadn''t gone to n, he''d have shot them with their riders.

    He hunkered down.

    A rider came out of the cave.

    They scouted around briefly, before bellowing into the opening. "It looks like the others haven''t started yet!"

    There was a murmur of voices, indistinct, slightly echoing inside the cave.

    Heughed. "Don''t be impatient, idiot! There''s a prime spot nearby to jump them."

    He guided his horse through a mossy and rock-strewn path.

    The second came out, and the third. They followed the trail of the first.

    Krow breathed deeply, eyes on the cave mouth.

    There should be two others.

    Yes.

    Two riders trotted out of the cave. "Finally! I thought I was going to die from the smell down there!"

    The other ignored him, made to spur his horse faster.

    Krow nced at the first three.

    They were in range of the others already.

    He aimed.

    Eight bullets sent in session knocked the fourth rider off his horse. The fifth''s horse screamed and would''ve bolted if not for the rider''s iron control.

    They made for the safety of the cave.

    Krow leaped to his feet, aimed the secondary gun and sent three shieldbursts that the horse crashed into. He leaped down, shooting.

    Six darkspears hit the bandit before the notification appeared.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 14 bandit and gained three (3) silver serpens! 6/10]

    He bounded for the first bandit he downed, sent two bullets into the struggling man.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 15 bandit lieutenant and gained five (5) silver serpens! 9/10]

    He whirled, reloading as he ran for the ambush site.

    There was only one bandit left, and Krow was unneeded there.

    [You and your allies have defeated a bandit attack! 10/10]

    Defeated?

    He moved closer to the huddle.

    Oh. There was one still alive.

    Krow leaned on a rock, rolled his shoulders. After all that anxiety, it was over in barely a minute.

    "Who hired you?" Tharjan calmly regarded thest bandit.

    The man spat at Tharjan''s feet, ignoring the blood dripping down his temple and cheeks.

    Tharjan was unfazed. "All the others are gone, even the band of riders on the road."

    Still, the man was silent.

    "Your leader died early. One of you betrayed him and told us where you were."

    A flicker of disgust showed in the man''s expression. "It had to be that newbie that he liked so much. I don''t even know why captain allowed the brat to join."

    Was he talking about Amonrei?

    The bandit then spat again. "If everyone''s dead, as you say, what''s it to me?"

    "You are still alive."

    The banditughed. "You''re to kill me, farmer? Oh, right, you have a butcher here!" He looked around. Abruptly, his expression changed. "I¡­no¡­"

    There was a long silence.

    Krow nced up.

    The man nched. "He''s here! He¡­tell him to stay away from me¡­"

    "Who?"

    The bandit chuckled. "Death''se for me. There''s nothing to say now."

    He looked straight at Krow.

    Uh?

    Krow wanted tough at the absurdity.

    The guy couldn''t mean him?

    Tharjan turned halfway, blinked at Krow, then his attention returned calmly to the bandit. "I see what you mean."

    The bandit''s eyes widened. "You see him too? The Shadowed?"

    What.

    But Tharjan was nodding. "Perhaps we are all marked for death."

    This bastard.

    Did he want Krow to impersonate a priest of Takrul?

    There was no way.

    Krow shifted to ease his muscles. The bandit''s eyes locked on him again.

    The hit to the head had obviously done something to his eyes.

    So Krow went with the flow. He leaned forward slightly, whispered in a voice that carried. "Speak."

    To his surprise, the bandit started to talk.

    He surreptitiously nced at the rest of the herbalists, who were doing incredible impressions of stone faces.

    Weeping skies.

    He was not going to live this down.

 Chapter 113 - Testing

    Gysavur listened intently as they concluded the events that happened during their trip to Rakaens and back. He leaned back in his chair.

    "It is nothing that hasn''t happened before," he murmured. "Nearly a century ago, the Bloodcrows were even hired to disrupt our vige. They yed havoc on our deliveries."

    He then quirked a smile at them. "Unlike that time, everyone has returned hale. I am d."

    The younger members of the delivery crew grinned back.

    "Did you doubt us?" Menrike all but pouted..

    "Who do you think we are," Jarihar crossed his arms smugly. "As if a few bandits would be a problem."

    "As if you fought any," snorted Qemi.

    Krow hid a smile. The people who apanied him to the cave mouth had pushed Jarihar to the back and taken down the bandits before he could protest too much.

    "You didn''t either!"

    "Young ones¡­"

    "Avu," Menrike piped up, more seriously. "What are we going to do?"

    The others quieted.

    "Do not worry. They won''t do anything more in the near future."

    Psh, yeah they won''t.

    How much did they expend on this whole attempt? ording to the bandit, it wasn''t Tamvost that hired them, but a town called Bruskarel.

    Like the town Morumain mentioned, Tumungast, it was a town that traded mostly in herbs and meat.

    The motives would be simr, likely.

    Bruskarel might even be the backer that incited Tamvost to act.

    Tamvost, the bandit group ¨C it must have taken a minor fortune to sway all those people to their demands.

    Even for minor Guild Quests, the reward cost hundreds of drax.

    Hch snorted, of the same mind. "Small towns can''t afford to buy bandit groups like that endlessly. In addition, we won against their hired men, wiped them out even. That means other bandits would hike up their prices if ever they are approached to go against us again. Not cheap."

    Gysavur nodded. "It will be awhile before anyone tries again. A few years at least."

    Krow wasn''t that optimistic.

    The creators called the expansion ''Masters of War'', after all.

    What was a warmaster without armed, bloody battles?

    "Also," Jarihar added. "Death the Shadow has ced his favor on the vige!"

    The chuckles that sounded at that had Krow sighing. He red at the younger draculkar. He''d unequipped his armor, but the jokes hadn''t stopped.

    Even Gysavur sent him an amused nce. Thankfully, he kept to business.

    "And these child bandits?"

    "Refugees," Jamutaltei answered her father. "The conflict in Eastern Marfall has descended into destroying viges."

    "You brought them back with you."

    "We did."

    Gysavur and Jamutaltei had a brief staring contest.

    Huh, was Gysavur not approving of his daughter''s actions? She decided to bring the camp of children and mafmet back to the vige.

    Then the vige head sighed. "I would like to speak to them."

    "I''ll inform them." Jamutaltei nodded and moved toward the door.

    The others took that as their cue to start leaving the office.

    "Krow." Gysavur reached into a drawer. He ced a pouch in Krow''s hands. "Thank you, once again."

    [You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:Herb Delivery Escort:|</strong> with no casualties and no product lost, gaining +20 Experience Points, +1 Golden Drax, +5 Reputation Points in Cerkanst!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Sub-objective: Who Looms Behind Tamvost?</em> gaining +5 Experience Points, +2 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Refugee Rescue</em>, gaining +10 Experience Points, +5 Silver Serpens, +1 Reputation Points in Guinsant Alliance Territory!]

    [Quest Completion: SS]

    [Due to exemrypletion, a bonus of 10 drax has been awarded by a grateful quest-giver!]

    Jamutaltei stayed behind.

    Menrike nced at them, a slightly worried expression on her face. Krow patted her shoulder as he passed. She sighed, followed him.

    "They''re not really fighting, are they?"

    "No." They probably were. Gysavur didn''t seem the type to turn away kids in need, but then again Krow had only been here a short time. At the very least, something about the additional passengers the carts came back with made him ufortable.

    "They have these discussions all the time," Hch yawned. "Don''t worry about it."

    Due to finishing up with the bandit interrogation, then dealing with the separate group of bandit children and their crotchety caretaker, they spent the night in the cave. Hch had taken the moonset watch.

    Krow let him and Menrike walk on ahead.

    Most of his attention was on the hidden sub-objective of the escort quest.

    Rescuing the children wasn''t his work. Not directly. It was Jamutaltei and the others who talked to the old mafmet and offered potions.

    And yet, it showed up in his quest notifications.

    That was actually possible?

    The implications¡­

    Well now. That gave him ideas.

    A cough brought him out of his focus the swirl of his own thoughts.

    A boy stood before him.

    Vaguely familiar.

    Ah, the kid bartender. "¡­Tal, wasn''t it?"

    "Talebrech."

    "Were you looking for me, Talebrech?"

    "Yessir, I was. I wanted to¡­I hoped to ask¡­"

    Krow raised his brows, curious now. "What is it?"

    A look of determination firmed on the boy''s face. He met Krow''s eyes. "Would it be possible to ask for an apprenticeship?"

    Eh?

    From him?

    It wasn''t a path he''d considered. At least not for Rends.

    But.

    It was an idea.

    The boy was getting more ufortable the more Krow stared at him, so he asked. "Do your parents know about this?"

    Talebrech shook his head. "I wanted to know if it was possible first."

    Krow wanted to say yes, to test his idea immediately.

    But he wanted to check the craftmaster forums first.

    "The only profession I can offer to teach is Butchery." He told the boy. "If you are interested, talk to your parents first. Then we can discuss it."

    Talebrech smiled. "Thank you, sir!"

    "It''s Krow." He stopped the boy as the other made to run out of the tower. "How old are you again?"

    "Fourteen!" called the boy as he left.

    Really? The boy looked younger.

    Krow walked out of the tower. It was still midmorning.

    An apprenticeship, huh?

    This could either be very good or very bad.

    A thought forter.

    He had other ns for the day.

    Krow headed out of the vige.

    Time to do a few tests on the capabilities of his ghost-scouts.

    It had been bugging him the whole time since the bandit fight on the mountain.

    An hourter, he was certain.

    The real-time tracking of groups or individuals of interest was only if said group or individual was within the sensory range of the ghost-scout.

    The moving scout-mark of the riders must be because the spirit-bird had them in its sights as it circled.

    Krow dismissed the bird.

    In a forest packed with trees, its preference for circling high above was next to useless when hunting within the canopy. Krow could order it to soar within the branches, really, but he wanted to test the spirit-snake more extensively.

    What senses did the snake use?

    Being so close, it should have updated the locations on that fight faster.

    He provoked a tribe of amberscale deer by taking one of their eggs, then bounding cheerfully through the trees with the deer in hot pursuit.

    With the snake pacing him, he could only see the leading edge of the pursuers moving.

    The sensing range of the snake was that limited?

    So much for Rare.

    Krow inventoried the egg, drew his gun and started shooting. The deer were low-level monsters. Two or three shots would down a monster.

    The herd was fifteen strong. Before long, he faced the buck, whose eyes had darkened and reddened. He''d Enraged it.

    Krow leaped backwards, revolver aimed and shooting.

    The pointed spikes that were the buck''s horns whistled through the space he''d been upying.

    It fell, lifeless, the next second.

    [You''ve gained two (2) Silver Serpens from a monster!]

    He holstered his gun, then set the spirit-snake to circling around his location.

    After arranging the deer in a position easier for him to work, he changed his gloves, unsheathed his knife, and started skinning the deer.

    He''d gotten the Skinner apprentice skill with the Leatherworker subss. Skinner was also a Butcher skill. He figured it wouldn''t hurt to practice it, if he had to teach.

    [You''ve butchered a monster to acquire an Amber Scale!]

    A Common item used in low-level scale armor. There were a ton of scales like the one he currently had on the Bourse.

    The price was cheap; they sold in batches. The price of one scale was...meh, less than a serpens.

    He also got meat and deerhides from the herd.

    Tsk, all that meat was going to start umting again.

    Should he just sell it as soon as he got it?

    Probably.

    Krow washed up in a stream. A scout-mark pinged on the map.

    Oh?

    He shook excess water off his hands, put on his Bonewood Gloves, and navigated toward the mark.

    Peering around a tree-trunk, he spied another group of amberscale deer. Arger herd than thest one.

    Time for another test.

    He walked forward, deliberately stomping on the herd''s territory.

    "The grass here, so soft and tender," he sighed dramatically. "You won''t want to hog it all? It''s just neighborly to share."

    The buck charged, puffs of steam snorted from its nose.

    Krow dodged.

    "Rude."

    He kept the spirit-snake close, periodically ncing at the Map as he yed tag with arge animal with gleaming scales.

    The subss description said these ghosts could take a hit, right?

    Krow stood still as the buck, panting, eyes wild, lowered its head.

    The spirit-snake whipped between Krow and the pointed horns. Then burst into a mass of fading wisps.

    The buck shook its head.

    The hit was solid.

    Interesting.

    The next moment, he dodged again.

    "Is that all you can do?"

    Krow skipped backward.

    [You have achieved 50 Points of Vitality!]

    Whoa.

    [You have gained 5% HP Recovery due to your increase in Vitality!]

    Krow smiled.

 Chapter 114 - I Only Wanted Minions, How Did It Become A Picnic?

    Krow didn''t want to concede anything to that bastard, but there was an element of truth to Amonrei''s words on the superiority of seeking levels.

    Every 10 levels, yers gained the ability to choose ss skills. Every 15 levels, a tier gap separated higher levels from lower levels.

    Rmendations even in the future insisted that the Rends newbie forge forward to Lvl 20 as soon as possible. Most guildns generally recruited from Lvl 15.

    Krow fought three yers in the span of two days ¨C of those, he only decisively won one and that was because the other was overconfident and had Common armors.

    Those weren''t odds he liked.

    Choosing to continue with his exploration and vige quest system would be a mistake.

    That was why he wanted a butcher apprentice..

    Butchering monsters was massively time-consuming. If he had an apprentice, he could concentrate a greater part of his attention on hunting.

    Technically, he could hire a butcher to do these things for him.

    But hiring wouldn''t increase his butcher mastery.

    He''d checked the forums.

    Having raised apprentices to wright rank increased the chance of gaining a master-rank skill when a yer promoted from first wright to master. It also speeded up subss mastery.

    Talebrech had been his apprentice for an in-game week now, and Krow had already advanced to second-wright rank as a butcher.

    Of course, that might also have been the fact that they were taking advantage of Krow having previously scouted the locations of various monster nests and were going from nest to nest systematically.

    In addition, Krow was now Lvl 15.

    The other reason he wanted an apprentice tied into why he was notified ofpleting a quest he thought he''d ignored.

    That is to say, indirect questpletion happened when different members of a party fulfilled the conditions of different parts of a single or parallel quest.

    It wasn''t unusual for an NPC to apany yers or yer groups on a quest.

    But outside of specific quests, it wasplicated. There was no such thing as a party invite to NPCs. And yet, ording to a craftmaster on the forums, questpletion via NPC needed the non-yer to be a member of the party.

    Krow was extrapting, as the craftmaster was talking about multiple non-yer smiths assisting in making arge order of swords.

    Apprentices and wrights in a workshop apparently counted as a craftmaster''s permanent party.

    In the warmaster forums, there weren''t many posts about long-term cooperation with non-yers.

    Some tried, but gave up because yers leveled up faster and the non-yers couldn''t keep up.

    The craftmaster forums indicated that it took 3-7 days for an NPC apprentice to learn a skill. yers apprenticeships mostly ended once the yer learned the skill from the master, usually after just a day or two of chores and errands.

    Talebrech, because of their schedule, gained the basic skill Skinner in four days.

    Krow was fairly certain the rumors concerning the ''brutality of his training methods'' came from how he brought the kid back to his parents exhausted and carried on Krow''s back all four days.

    Which was why he was surprised when Hch''s wife brought their younger son Atimur to request an apprenticeship as well.

    "Do you even like your son?"

    He was fast gaining the reputation of being a sadistic master, you know!

    And each apprenticeship contract meant she had to pay 20 golden drax for her child to be tortured¡ª trained, he meant.

    She raised her brows slightly, silently chastising the inane sentence.

    Krow cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed. "Right."

    "Maga is a friend. She says Talebrech can barely walk but he is happy and enthusiastic." She patted her son''s shoulder. "Atimur has little interest in herb-growing. Learning another trade would not do him disservice."

    Krow eyed the boy, who only looked back at him curiously.

    "It''s not that I don''t want to," He started. More minions was always better after all. "But I hunt monsters. I cannot keep my eyes on them all the time, in addition to the many dangers."

    Thoughtful, she studied him, her gaze a bright silver. "If I recall, wrights are afforded two openings for apprentices."

    "Yes," Krow sounded the word slowly.

    Wrights could only have two apprentices at one time. Masters were limited to ten.

    There was a look in her eye that was very firm. A steady silver gaze and dark scale pattern on her jawline, all inherited by the son at her side.

    "If you can be assured of their safety, will you hold one of those ces for my son?"

    "Of course." That answer, he didn''t need to think about.

    She smiled and stood. "Then we will see you tomorrow, if that is alright?"

    "¡­sure." Warily, he watched her walk away.

    That was the look of someone with a scheme.

    He wasn''t wrong.

    A dayter, Krow ended up on the edge of the forest with two teenaged apprentices, three also-teenaged hunters, and one dangerous old mafmet.

    The old mafmet, Ameleo, and his haphazard collection of refugee children had been offered a ce in the vige and had epted.

    The issue was employment. So that sted vige head just tossed the problem to Krow, who the older of the refugees would apparently ''have many shared interests with''.

    Since the three hunters were to a one ring at him, Gysavur obviously had no clue what he was saying.

    "Problem?"

    "You''re the reason we lost."

    Krow hummed as they walked the woond toward a monster nest. "Lost?"

    "The fight with the farmers!" the lone boy of the trio snapped.

    "I''m sure I wasn''t in that fight," Krow stated.

    "You made Gaven and Rurel scream like they were being gutted."

    The lookouts?

    "Yes. We surprised each other," Krow acknowledged. "None of us appreciated it, my eardrums especially."

    He nced back, where Old Ameleo was conversing cheerfully with his apprentices.

    "If you were in the fight, you¡ª"

    The mafmet girl spoke for the first time. "That''s enough. We have work to do."

    The boy looked like he was going to argue, but subsided of his own ord. He still sent Krow sullen nces every now and then.

    "Have you hunted ssmouth Moles before?" Krow asked.

    They shook their heads.

    "Ah, then look for¡­" Krow stopped, studied the tree beside him, then climbed nimbly. He wrenched off the chunk of unsightly brown mushroom and showed it to them. "For some of this. The scent is irresistible to the moles when crushed. Make sure you don''t touch the white parts."

    "Why?"

    "You''ll keel over and die," the boy dramatically swooned. Both girls nted an elbow in his ribs.

    A worn gesture, it looked like something they were used to doing.

    "I was going to say you''ll be scratching yourselves for days," Krow corrected dryly.

    They made baskets from the long grass and started collecting mushrooms, his apprentices and the old mafmet too.

    Once they had enough, Krow brought out arge pot from his Travelpack.

    He dumped the mushrooms into the pot, broke off the soft wood of a nearby fallen tree and fashioned it into a pestle. He started crushing the mushroom. "These are called goblinboot mushrooms. You''ll know why in a moment."

    He up-ended a cask of water into the crushed mushroom.

    The cries of dismay at the explosion of malodor had him smiling.

    "This mushroom is actually used in the creation of a number of cosmetic products, though mostly fragrances."

    "You''re making that up!"

    "No."

    The oils of the mushroom were potent, the smell lingered in air for a long time.

    "Now dig a hole in the middle of the clearing and we''ll pour it in."

    ssmouth Moles had an incredible sense of smell. If a small chunk of goblinboot mushroom had fallen to the ground, there would be moles from a kilometer awaypeting to find and eat it.

    Krow poured part of the concoction in.

    "Not all of it?" the mafmet girl asked.

    "There are three other clearings."

    After setting up the lures, they set up traps to prevent the moles from diving underground again.

    Then they waited.

    And waited.

    A stomach growled, long and loud, followed by others.

    The old mafmet chuckled. "What a thing, for hunters to grow hungry."

    As if to spite him, everyone started bringing out various portable food items. Krow crunched into a rime-apple.

    Ameleo''s chuckle only grew stronger. He casually brought out a paper-wrapped packet. Jerky, from the smell.

    "You! I thought those were all gone, uncle!"

    "It''s always best to have an extra stash." The old mafmet turned to Krow. He held up the packet of delicious-smelling dried meat invitingly.

    His two apprentices looked up at him for permission, excited.

    "They say mafmet cured meats are the best in the world." Krow followed his apprentices to the old tree stump the others were using as a table. The hunters were already gnawing on their own pieces.

    Krow snagged one for himself.

    The meat created an explosion of vor as soon as it touched his tongue, smoke and spices, salty, sweet, with a hint of bitter. He paused to savor the taste.

    "Not bad."

 Chapter 115 - I Only Wanted Minions, How Did It Become A Picnic? (2 Of 2)

    ssmouth Moles were the size of German shepherd dogs, but heftier. Their digging ws could span from Krow''s wristbone to finger-tip. Their fur was a fine velvety texture, thick, and greyish-blue in color.

    An Umon monster, usually Lvl 15-20.

    Just as well.

    Krow had underestimated the size of the nest.

    It was just after noon, and moles still popped out of the molehills in the clearings. The teenagers around Krow were exhausted.

    He couldn''t me them. In the first hour after the first molehill appeared, the moles came for the baited lure-holes at a rate of one or two every minute..

    That was over two hours ago.

    The younger hunters were all under Lvl 20, and withmon gear. It took them more time and effort to kill one mole than Krow did. Even with the help of the traps.

    On the plus side, they were so tired theycked the energy to keep ring at him for scaring their lookouts on the mountain.

    The effects of the mushroom dissipated as time went on.

    The deluge had trickled down to one every half-hour ¨C that was when Krow called off the hunt, to the relief of his helpers.

    They refilled the lure-holes and returned to camp with thest of the mole corpses.

    Krow''s two apprentices and the old mafmet had been taught how to empty out the salivary nds that produced the substance that would be mole quartz.

    Ameleo had been attached to their hunting party as protection for the young butcher apprentices, officially the camp manager.

    From the scenting from the cooking pots, he was also a fair cook. Chunks of mole-meat bubbled in a stew.

    "I wasn''t aware this sold," Ameleo murmured, as he stacked a cask of ssmouth mole saliva on the small mountain of simr casks collected at the edge of the meadow designated for their camp.

    "Not as it is," Krow offered the information freely. "It has to be processed first. They call it mole quartz for a reason."

    He nned on creating a production facility for Leather Armor Polish in the vige. It won''t be a secret for long anyway.

    The old mafmet''s eyes lit in recognition. "So this is where it''s from? Fascinating."

    Mole quartz wasn''t hard or tough enough to use in the mafmet crystal based engineering, but leather or metal polish was amon needed item in any kingdom.

    Krow brought out a hundred-item crate, started stacking casks inside.

    In total, they had lured out and killed 139 moles in three hours.

    Not bad. Alone, he''d probably have managed less than a hundred.

    Having helper-minions was useful.

    It was too bad the three younger hunters couldn''t supplement his XP gain.

    Only the apprentices, who were his party members, gave him XP and even then that was only for the butcher subss.

    The two of them worked slowly though. He''d walked them through skinning the moles earlier on, and they''d maybe managed forty or so between them in three hours.

    Krow tapped on his profile. He was past the halfway point to Lvl 16 already.

    His eyes went to the date.

    It was just five days before the first day of December.

    He sighed internally. So much for achieving Lvl 20 before the end of the month.

    But nope.

    No time for disappointment.

    "How long until the food''s ready?"

    "Half an hour."

    Krow nodded.

    There was still work to be done.

    His two apprentices were still hard at work on the far side of the meadow. They''d already extracted the saliva from thest of the moles and were working on skinning the monsters.

    He walked over and watched.

    They seem to have found a rhythm, their movements more confident than thest time he checked in on them. He''d started Talebrech on Knife Handling exercises, and it was evident in his more efficient use of his tools.

    "Good work, you two."

    Talebrech smiled at him, and Atimur ducked his head.

    "Finish what you have, then wash up and help Amaleo with the cooking."

    The two boys nced at each other. "Amaleo?"

    Krow blinked, pointed to the other side of the meadow. The old mafmet was taking out a tub of marinated skewers and readying to grill them over the coals.

    "Oh."

    These kids. "You two spent the whole morning with him and didn''t know his name?"

    "Everyone was just calling him ''uncle''," Atimur muttered.

    Ah, right.

    "Go on then."

    The two cleaned up, and did as they were bid.

    Krow eyed the piles of carcasses on the lush summer grass.

    "Unequip-one."

    A ssmouth mole weighed thirty to fifty kilograms. His apprentices had removed pelt, organs, and the head, leaving a carcass of about 60% the live weight of the monster.

    The mole pelts alone generally weighed over four kilograms.

    Krow changed his gloves, hung his coat up on a tree branch, took out a butcher knife, and started to work.

    With the skills of a wright-rank butcher working in tandem, he could now analyze the carcass better. At this point, he could differentiate each section with sight and smell alone, and separating sections was like ying with children''s blocks.

    His knife proved its sharpness as it cut through tendon and flesh and fat equally easily, separating bone from meat, carving delicately, slicing efficiently.

    With bones and most of the fat separated, maybe half the carcass weight was meat. Unfortunately, most of the meat was marked inedible, leaving Krow with an edible weight of four to six kilos per carcass.

    A pitiful amount,pared to the ratio of edible weight to carcass weight in most monsters he''d butchered in the past.

    "Oy, food''s ready."

    Krow nced at the teenaged boy, who had his arms crossed, watching.

    He gave a wordless sound in acknowledgement.

    Talebrech handed him a bowl of stew the second he sat down. He and Atimur had already served the others, and Amaleo wasdling up a serving for himself.

    The first bite was amazing.

    The meat was tender, vorful, sweet with fat. The spices were slightly mild for draculkar but with appreciable heat. The broth was thick with mashed roots, likely foraged from nearby.

    The skewers were dusted with spice, simrly tender, but with a snap to the texture. The char at the edges gave a slight bitterness to the spicy sweetness and enhanced the smoky vor.

    Campfire cooking at its finest.

    The only thing missing was bread to dip in the stew.

    "Uncle," came an amazed sigh, "where did you learn to cook?"

    "I used to be a soldier," Amaleo stated, twisted thedle and scooped up another bowl. "A soldier must be able to cook, or its hard biscuits and stone-dry meat all the way to the end of the march."

    "Soldiers eat so well?"

    "Hah!" Amaleo chuckled. "Soldiers eat dust and drink dew. To eat like this in war, be a general."

    "Ugh, uncle, don''t get my hopes up like that."

    Krow considered the old mafmet.

    ording to his words, he was from Themlef on the western border of the Qormantine desert.

    To just cross the U Mountains on foot with ten children in tow, there was grit in the old mafmet''s bones and steel in his spine.

    There was a storyline raid quest going on in Themlef at the moment. If they''d walked through that, whew. Various guildns were fighting over the opened questlines there.

    It must be chaotic.

    Krow wanted to ask about the situation from the perspective of a non-yer but no matter how you look at it, one adult feeling the need to cart ten children of different races across a continent spoke of numerous tragedies.

    As did the fact that they epted the invitation of Cerkanst, with seemingly no attempts to seek out the families of the children.

    Dredging up whaty in those depths would be unwise.

    He still needed minions after all.

    Especially since they were proficient in their weapons.

    After eating, Krow taught his apprentices how to take apart a ssmouth mole carcass.

    "How do you know it''s not edible?" The question came from the younger mafmet.

    "Smell, mostly." He sliced of a chunk of the inedible meat and wafted it in front of her nose. "What do you smell?"

    "Blood and¡­something like the smell of a lightning strike." She wrinkled her nose.

    Krow nodded. Something acidic. "Usually, if things smell this bad or strange, it means it''s not alright to eat."

    After the lesson, he demonstrated several times, watched over them as they attempted it, correcting and criticizing as they went.

    The take for the day was 77 Common ssmouth Mole Pelts, 41 Umon ssmouth Mole Pelts, 162 casks of mole saliva, and 710kg of edible meat.

    There was also 379kg of bones, about 200kg of undeyer fat, maybe 1000kg of inedible meat, and 66 casks of mole brains.

    He left the others to crate all of those, and sat beside the old mafmet.

    "Shall we talk business?"

    The old mafmet nodded. This was a probation period after all.

    "The hunting tax in the kingdom is 20%," Krow started. "The vige will take that. I''ll take 25%, as the scout and senior hunter. The rest of the kill is theirs to do as they please."

    The old mafmet smiled, a brief sh of fang. "The going rate for a huntmaster is 40%."

    "I am not a huntmaster." Not yet. Seriously, who did he have to talk to so he could get a hunter subss? "And your children are barely hunters. This amount is enough."

    "Reasonable."

    "They tallied between them 56 ssmouth moles. That would be 30 Common pelts, 16 Umon pelts, 65 casks of mole saliva, and 285kg of edible meat. In addition, 150kg of bones, 80kg of fat, 400kg of inedible meat, and 26 casks of mole brains."

    "All that?"

    Krow smiled. "I''d like to make an offer."

    "Mh."

    "The Common pelts, the inedible meat, and the bones in my share, for the casks of mole saliva in yours."

    The bones and inedible meat would be sold to the vige at the rate of 1 serpens per 100kg ¨C it was mostly for fertilizer. It didn''t have value to Krow.

    He could maybe make bone dust, but he really didn''t have the tools for that.

    The old mafmet nodded, after a moment of contemtion. "Agreed."

    They sped arms.

    Well, that was easy. Krow was satisfied.

    All they needed to do now was record the agreement in a contract.

    *

    Chapter End

    *

    Notes:

    If you see this work on other websites, know that the author Jin Daoran posts exclusively on webnovel(dot. If you like the story, please support this misfortunate author by voting and reviewing on webnovel(dot. Thanks!

 Chapter 116 - I Want To Be A Minion Too?

    Finalizing the one-time contract was simple. Sarnaan was a Notary.

    Krow certified that the younger three knew what they were doing, and Gysavur stamped their local hunting licenses.

    Afterward, they got a private room at the tavern to celebrate.

    Buri, who was today''s bartender, snorted when he ordered young cider and honeycakes. "Come downter, have a proper drink."

    "I''m not sure if I can call anything you drink ''proper''.

    The otherughed, but he sent a cask of one of their finer ciders just the same.

    Krow knew that because his suspicions were roused when Talebrech''s eyebrows jumped briefly to his hairline at the sight of the cask.. Then the boy sipped with almost reverent slowness at his cup, which was confirmation.

    The young cider was cool, refreshing, not too sweet, light with a hint of sour.

    The perfect apaniment to the honeycakes and dried fruit piled onto a tter on their table.

    Bread wasn''t a draculkar staple but, this close to the kingdom border, nearly half the people in the vige weren''t draculkar.

    Krow let the five children bond with each other on the other side of the room, and sat beside Amaleo.

    The old mafmet had also passed on the cakes. Krow nudged a small te of dried fruit closer.

    Amaleo nodded his thanks, and bit into a fig. "It was a more sessful hunt than I imagined."

    "You thought it wouldn''t seed? I''m offended."

    The old mafmet huffed. "Your vige head implied that we would be apanied by this ce''s premier hunter. If you were told that and presented a brat as young as you, you''d be doubtful too."

    Krowughed. Yeah, that was fair. "The vige head exaggerates. I got lucky a few times, is all. Besides, this is an herb-growing vige. Much of the game they hunt are ordinary beasts."

    "Luck is also a part of skill." Amaleo sighed after saying that. "So. You are, in essence, the vige''s only hunt leader."

    "I wouldn''t call myself a hunter. Not yet."

    Especially since he''d checked the updated list of subsses and there still wasn''t an entry for ''hunter''. The closest was the Druid battless, which had many simrities to the character ss called ''ranger'' in other games but with greater emphasis on nature-based abilities.

    "I wonder," the mafmet nted a look at him. "Would you mind a simr arrangement as today, but on a longer term?"

    Oh, the universe was still not done offering him minions.

    No, wait. As mere tagalongs, they wouldn''t advance any of his subsses. So, useless minions.

    Except Amaleo, who he actually wanted to hire to protect his apprentices.

    How did Atimur''s mother even know the vige head had a dilemma like that? Krow supposed he still had too low RP in the vige to be part of the regr gossip circles.

    Still, Amaleo was looking for a babysitter, not an employer.

    Suffice to day, he was reluctant.

    "They conducted themselves well, this day. If they keep to the fringes of the Forest, they''d be able to deal with most of the monsters they encounter."

    "It does them no favor to over-praise. If you had not been thinning the herd, they would not have done as well."

    Well, they were only¡­fifteen at most?

    For fifteen, they were excellent.

    "I taught them as well as I could, on the road," Amaleo continued. "But not, I think, as well as the one who taught you."

    Krow''s lips quirked briefly.

    Who taught him...

    No one did.

    Or rather, multiple people did, but he didn''t have a master.

    As a Leatherworker, he periodically was attached to travel with hunting teams on long expeditions. Armor, clothing, essories ¨C he was repairman and tailor all at once.

    Years of tagging along with master foresters, apothecaries, scouts, and he gained enough skill and knowledge to take the mastery exams on forestry.

    Then Amaleo''s words processed.

    "Wait, you''re a Forester?" Krow re-evaluated what he''d seen of the old mafmet so far. Several things stood out immediately, now that he was looking. "You''re a <em>master forester</em>."

    He''d caught glimpses of the way the old mafmet had strode through the woods, silent and alert, as if he was flowing through the forest. That could only be mastery of the major wright-rank skill ''Stag-Blessed''.

    He hadn''t prcessed what he''d seen because, at the time, he was distracted with keeping an eye out. Even with Monstrepel Sachets, his apprentices were <em>loud.</em>

    Loud enough to attract predatory attention. They hadn''t learned stealth in a forest yet.

    He''d worried so much, all three ghosts out and straining his MP, that his Scout promoted to wright-rank, in fact.

    Not important at the moment.

    Because, really?

    "Seriously, how? Mafmet are city people, burghers and urbanites, and Themlef is a desert! <em>How</em> are you a forester?"

    He''d never have guessed. Mafmet normally went into smithing and engineering, with trade andbat as secondary choices. But <em>forestry</em>?

    The old mafmet chuffed in amusement.

    "I became a soldier at a very young age," he said. "Most of my life, I was stationed in Rombe."

    The Rombe junglewoods were pretty famous, Krow acknowledged silently. Like the Grandshield Forest, it was a prime monster hunter location, though more famous for Heal potion ingredients.

    "Have you mastered soldiery as well?"

    "I never was an officer," snorted the mafmet.

    That''s not what I meant, though."

    The old mafmet made a wordless sound, but didn''t borate. It didn''t seem that he wanted to talk about it, so Krow dropped the questioning.

    There were two ways to master the soldier subss. The first was to be an officer. The other was to gain 100% skillmastery in at least two apprentice skills.

    For a yer, the first was easier. The game just tossed opportunities in the paths of yers, so most wouldn''t stagnate in their ranks for long.

    Mafmet lifespan averaged at 200 years. If Amaleo said he spent most of his life in Rombe, whoa. That meant he''d taken an army contract. Most soldier contracts for the longer-lived races locked in a duration of 50-75 years, with a 50 year reserve.

    It wasn''t inconceivable that he''d mastered soldiery using the second path.

    A master forester and possibly a master soldier.

    Krow''s mind whirled, a little stunned.

    He sipped his cider, pushing away the ideas in his head for the moment.

    "Why did you cross the mountains?" He asked, curious. "If you just wanted distance from the conflict, then you could''ve stopped at any town between here and Themlef, any vige in the eastern border."

    No getting around it, Amaleo was <em>old</em>. It would''ve been easier to stay in the east.

    "I could have," Amaleo agreed. "But the children were not ready."

    They needed a goal to slowly chip away at their grief, the mafmet didn''t say. Krow¡­understood.

    "I met the son of an old friend, a siren," continued the older. "I was traveling to meet her."

    Tsk.

    That''s that n scrapped.

    They weren''t staying.

    "How long are you nning on staying in Cerkanst, then?"

    There was a contemtive silence. "I should still send a missive, perhaps visit. But she would not expect to host the children."

    Or maybe notpletely scrapped.

    Amaleo was wavering between a decision to stay or not.

    Cerkanst was remarkably epting of other races, for an isted draculkar vige. It was idyllic, close to a trade center for emergencies, but far enough away that it would be uninteresting to an army.

    Krow nodded.

    "Would you consider, in the meantime, taking an apprentice?" If he became apprentice to the mafmet, then wouldn''t that mean he''d have enough of a connection to the guy''s other apprentices that they wouldn''t be useless minions anymore?

    Amaleo blinked slowly.

    "I''m technically qualified for wright, as a forester, but the teachings of a master is always useful. An apprenticeship contract would solve a few problems."

    Mainly, the question of trust.

    A Contract was magically binding. There were a lot of protections already built into the standard master-apprentice Contract that could be used to simplify a long-term hunting cooperation Contract with the mafmet and his kids.

    Amaleo let out a sound of intrigue. "I''m not too familiar with the intricacies of stacking Contracts."

    Krow wasn''t either. "Sounds like we should talk to Sarnaan again."

    The other agreed.

    They said goodbye to Talebrech and walked Atimur home before heading to the First Tower. While Amaleo sent the rest of the kids to rest, Krow osted the tower greeter.

    Sarnaan looked fascinated with their required contract.

    "I''ve stacked Contracts before," she said, "But not basing off of an apprenticeship. I''ll have to check my old master''s journals."

    "There is no hurry," Amaleo assured her.

    "You can review the apprenticeship agreements tomorrow. The rest of it though, I think you''ll need to talk to the vige head first."

    Amaleo nodded. "To be expected."

    Krow groaned inwardly. He''d nearly forgotten. All taxable endeavors must go through the appropriate government officials, in this case, the vige head.

    He should just be thankful it wasn''t arger town or city, where they''d be forced to meet with multiple officials.

    Gysavur was surprised to see them again so soon.

    Upon hearing what they wanted, he was silent for a moment. Then abruptly, he chuckled. "Interesting."

    [Your local Reputation has increased to 1000! The people of Cerkanst now consider you to be Friendly!]

    "That''s rming," Krow informed him.

    Yesterday, his RP was only just past 950. Even with him epting the quest to test the young hunters, he wasn''t expecting to advance into the next RP tier today. Not even tomorrow.

    "What he said," Sarnaan followed up. "Vige head, that''s your plotting voice."

    Amaleo''s brows slowly rose in amused curiosity.

 Chapter 117 - The Forester Workshop (1)

    Diversifying the business interests of the vige was something that Gysavur bal Thaunal enthusiastically endorsed, and now Krow had a quest to set up a workshop.

    Unfortunately, the workshop was not his.

    Still, he wasn''t letting this opportunity to delegate half the time-consuming tasks involving the economics of his overall n to other people.

    "I have two recipes for Leather Armor Polish," Krow offered, after listening to Amaleo refuse the amount of vige investment Gysavur was pushing on him.

    Apparently, Amaleo wasn''t as enthusiastic to be the leader of what would effectively be the vige hunter headquarters.

    No craftmaster would want government meddling in their work.

    But Amaleo had no immediate product, no tradework, no local contacts.

    However, apprenticing Krow, a citizen of the draculkar nation, gave the mafmet and his dependents the right of residency in the vige.. That was something valuable. Especially for the children he had walked across a whole mountain range to save.

    Krow could see him considering it, and stepped in.

    His brief disappointment that his first workshop wasn''t his over, he did the next best thing.

    Amaleo nted him a look, a nomittal sound leaving his lips. "The price?"

    "Partial ownership." Then he sweetened the pot. "I also have an Orddet''s Tradebook registration with the Infinite Bourse."

    From Gysavur''s nce and Amaleo''s lifted brows, that surprised them.

    Sarnaan, who was taking notes while flipping through books in the corner, eyed him.

    He didn''t know why; she knew he had an Orddet''s ount because she filed his papers.

    "You''ll be amenable to the workshop using your ess?" Gysavur wondered.

    "For a fee, of course." Amaleo''s tone ran dry as the deserts he was born in.

    Krow only smiled. What, like that wasn''t implied?

    As it was, he would take a hit marily in the short term,pared to if he built his own workshop.

    The advantage he saw in this partial ownership was it would free up his time to grind levels. Higher levels meant more strength to take downrger monsters, and in the long-run, more resources.

    He also hadn''t expected to build a workshop this early. The continuing profits should make up for giving up control over the recipes.

    Krow stayed silent as Amaleo turned the notion over in his head.

    Then the old mafmet inclined his head. "Agreed."

    Krow smiled.

    He knew it was a better offer.

    Like he said, the protections on apprentice Contracts inherently cultivated trust between master and apprentice, as they were both protected.

    A master''s workshop was sacred.

    Split ownership of one was rare. It was only because of the unusual situation that Amaleo allowed it.

    It was possible to be an apprentice without signing a Contract, which personally was Krow''s preference. But the parents of his apprentices signed Contracts with him, so maybe it was traditional for draculkar?

    He hadn''t signed anything like that in Zushkenar.

    Still, the advantages of a binding agreement in this situation were all good for him.

    Gysavur nodded, as if making a decision. "The vige would not mind your workshop fixing up a Drovesk."

    What?

    Krow had only brief understanding of draculkar rules, but they didn''t give towers away like that, right? Especially ones as numerically prestigious as the Fourth?

    He nced at Sarnaan.

    Sure enough, the other had stopped her note-taking, side-eying her boss.

    "The best of the ruined towers has four levels still standing sturdy," Gysavur continued. "I can fund refurbishment of those levels, though the rebuilding would be up to you."

    That <em>was</em> basically saying the workshop would own all the floors.

    It would also be giving the workshop an indelible tie to Cerkanst.

    A cunning move.

    Amaleo had some idea of the importance of the towers, because he demurred with a snort. "I look like I have resources for that? You sure see gold in rags, vige head. Leasing a warehouse is enough."

    Gysavur''s lips briefly lifted in amusement. He nced at Krow.

    Oh, he had an idea what wasing.

    "Thergest warehouse currently suitable for monster materials is unavable currently. This is why I offered the tower, as it had been built with herb storage in mind and would be morefortable for the scale of operations you are about to undertake."

    Shkav.

    Well. After this, it would be difficult to uproot the workshop from Cerkanst.

    Upside: Krow was buying Cerkanst sooner orter. Good development was a plus.

    Downside: Added development made the vige more expensive to acquire.

    He still had his enchanter''s workshop to set-up, too.

    Amaleo nced at him as well, seeing the byy, then temporarily shelved that discussion. "A broken tower, is it? I''d need to inspect it first. Let''s talkbor."

    "For an added percentage of profit," Krow murmured, only just remembering. "Would you like a method of herb-curing for leather that is faster than currently known techniques?"

    Amaleo paused, surprised but pleased, smiling. "Your apprenticeship has already paid for itself. You want to gouge more money out of the shop before it''s even built?"

    "To excel is to build beyond, master."

    Amaleo snorted augh. "Met a mafmet before, have you?"

    He shrugged.

    Gysavur looked amused. "I imagine you''ll need the names of suitable herbalists?"

    With Sarnaan''s help, a tentative workshop contract was argued into existence. Gysavur managed to retain 8% ownership for the vige, Amaleo managed to squeeze that into the vige guaranteeing a fund for apprentice equipment. Which Gysavur turned into securing apprenticeship spots for vige citizens, which Amaleo took advantage of to negotiate discounts to transport costs.

    Krow, who had already gotten most of what he wanted, leaned back to watch them verbally fence on the details.

    Finally, they agreed to a Contract they could sign.

    The review was tomorrow.

    Krow was just thankful the game streamlined the paperwork. On Earth and Zushkenar both, the creation of what was essentially a limited liabilitypany would take longer.

    He and Amaleo signed the apprenticeship contracts the next day, along with the five oldest of Amaleo''s kids. Krow had he distinct feeling that the only reason the younger five hadn''t been signed as well, was that Amaleo didn''t want them near the Forest.

    "So, senior apprentice," Banron, the oldest human boy and one of the three young hunters from yesterday, crossed his arms. "What are we doing next?"

    "Ban," murmured the mafmet girl in warning.

    "But Frai--!"

    "No. You heard uncle."

    Weeping skies.

    Now Amaleo''s kids thought he acquired a position that should''ve been given to one of theirs ¨C the oldest was fifteen and called Frai, for Eufrasie.

    She was one of the three from yesterday as well. The third of yesterday''s trio was the human girl Dennari, who frowned every time Krow looked at her.

    Today, they were joined by the two lookouts from the mountain, both thirteen years old and sirens, who''d been regarding Krow with a slight trepidation unhidden since they saw him.

    Inwardly, he chuckled.

    So much for bonding between sibling apprentices.

    No matter. It was early days yet.

    Amaleo was off inspecting the tower ruin which would be the new home for him and his kids, so Krow was now in charge of seven teenagers.

    "Alright," he caught their attention. "Our next hunt target rises with the great moon, so that''s still some time away. This morning, we are doing in-vige tasks."

    "You mean chores," Talebrech crossed his arms as well.

    "Chores!" Ban protested.

    "It''s either this or helping clean out the tower ruin." Krow waited.

    There were no more protests.

    "This is a chance for you five to get to know the vige." Krow waved them to follow. "And for you two to get to know the hunters you''ll be working with. We''re helping clean up the herb fields for the next seeding."

    Atimur groaned under his breath, still audibly.

    Krow pointed at him. "Atimur is from an herb-growing family, so he knows what to do."

    The fourteen year old draculkar sighed. "It''s basically harvesting thete growth and pulling up the old nts to chop up and scatter as fertilizer."

    "We''re not farmers!" Ban snorted.

    "You are forester apprentices," Krow refuted. "Or so that contract you signed this morning says. The skills of a forester include foraging, and part of that means harvesting wild nt ingredients. It includes conservation, to allow growth to once again provide bounty at ater date. Many foresters in eastern Marfall are farmers, and the reverse is also true. These are skills that will aid you in advancing your profession."

    He sighed. "In addition, this is a herbalists'' vige. If you destroy their crops identally, well. It''s best to learn how to move around the fields."

    "Master Krow once destroyed three fields fighting a Silverstripe Tasseline Serpent," smirked Talebrech.

    The brat.

    "Exaggeration," Krow quickly assured them, when eyes widened. "It was one. And a half. And maybe bits of others."

    "Atimur''s family fields, actually." Talebrech wasn''t cowed by the look Krow sent him.

    "He gave up the monster materials to pay for those," Atimur agreed.

    Oh, was it just yesterday when these two acted so shy and respectful toward him?

    They were all grinning at him now.

    Oy, were they bonding over his perceived embarrassment?

    Nope.

    "Okay, my apprentices are very chatty today, aren''t they? What energy, what enthusiasm!" He smiled, knocked on the door of one of the daily questgivers.

    They looked at him suspiciously.

    None of them had the opportunity to speak when Lumanel bal Grejerek opened the door. She blinked at all the people behind Krow. "You appear to have multiplied."

    "If I multiplied, all of them should be draculkar, shouldn''t they?"

    "Who knows these days." The herbalist waved a hand airily.

    "¡­right." He shook his head. "But since there are many with me today, should we also take the fields of your cousin and brothers?"

    "Oh would you? I''d be very grateful of course! It''s just the busiest after the harvest and Sruvan is dealing with an injury...."

    "It''s no problem!" Krow smiled his best smile. "My helpers are all eager to work today!"

    There were pained groans from behind him.

    His smile widened.

 Chapter 118 - The Forester Workshop (2)

    Lumanel surveyed the eight people before her, Krow included. "Baskets?"

    They raised their harvest baskets.

    "Check for holes, weak points, breaks in the weave. If there are, rece them. The baskets are enchanted to keep the herbs fresh. A hole may mean a problem with the enchants. Now, gloves?"

    They held out their hands.

    "Gloves are essential, as a number of secretions and saps may be irritating to skin¡­oh my dear, what''s wrong?" She held the hand of the slightly agitated Rurel, one of the sirens.

    Krow looked over. Ah. Sirens didn''t like hemming their fingertips in. "Do you have fingerless gloves?"

    Frai nced at him, but didn''t speak.

    Krow noticed her fingers were twitching though.

    Gloves were ufortable for mafmet too?

    "Oh. Oh, of course. One moment." Lumanel rummaged in the mass of equipment in her storage room. "Some herbs need a delicate touch, a warmth¡­aha, here we are."

    She waved a bag at them, opening it to reveal a collection of fingerless gloves. "They''re a bit more delicate than the others, but don''t worry if they tear, I have a whole bag, hm?"

    Frai and the two sirens, Gaven and Rurel, quickly reced their gloves. "Thank you."

    "Now." Lumanel returned to her inspection. "Knives?"

    A raft of hunting knives was presented to her, and then two fillet knives. Only Atimur had a proper harvest knife.

    She was silent for a long moment, then sighed loudly. "Alright then."

    She tested each for sharpness. "I''d be stricter about this, but that one does well enough...with that thing¡­"

    Krow, who''d been relegated to the title of ''that one'', clutched at his chest exaggeratedly, twirled the fillet knife that was disdainfully called ''that thing''. "Whoa now, don''t sing my praises so enthusiastically. There are tender ears listening."

    Lumanel ignored him. "So, I''ll just imagine you''re all trained to wield your knives for multiple uses."

    "A knife is a forester''s greatest friend," Krow beamed at her.

    "Follow me to the fields, my dears."

    Krow chuckled as he ambled behind them.

    When they got to the fields, he split them into groups. "Gaven and Rurel with Atimur, Talebrech and Dennari with Lumanel¡ª"

    "It''s Nari."

    He nodded at her. "The rest with me. If you have questions, ask."

    They scattered.

    He turned to Frai and Ban, his group.

    Krow couldn''t stick the sullen Ban with Lumarel who was the employer, or Atimur who had a mostly quiet and slightly meek disposition. Frai seemed to be the only person the human boy listened to besides their uncle.

    He waved them to follow, gesturing to the grassy fields strewn with a shrubposed solely of drooping twigs, like a skeleton caricature of a miniature willow. "These are whitebark shrubs."

    He knelt beside one, plucked a green twig, about the size of a finger. The shrub had no leaves. "The important part of it is the bark, as the name implies. The harvest should be the green twigs, young and tender. Take the bark off like so¡­"

    He secured the twig against his left palm, slid the de edge down the length of the twig in a single smooth motion, then twisted the fingers holding the twig.

    The cylinder of bark rolled off the woody pulp.

    "When the bark dries, it pales to a cream color, so not quite white." He smiled at them. "These shrubs were harvested two weeks ago, and won''t grow stalks anymore, so after taking the green stalks, just pull them out of the ground¡­"

    Krow twisted the shrub out of the ground with a single powerful pull, shaking the dirt off the shallow roots.

    "Then pile them to the side."

    He looked up.

    Frai''s expression was focused, she nodded on meeting Krow''s eyes.

    Ban looked away.

    Krow ignored that the way they were standing, the mafmet obviously was stepping on the boy''s foot in warning.

    "Whitebark is used in creating Low Heal potions." He tossed the bark into his basket, dusted off his hands, then moved to another shrub. "It''s¡ª"

    "They make Heals here?" Ban met his gaze finally, a sh of interest, quickly hidden in an indifferent expression.

    "Ah, no. I''m afraid not. They supply the apothecary in Rakaens that does. Heal recipes are hoarded viciously, you see. Only a handful of apothecaries ever get to know the recipe for Low Heal. The recipes for High Heal? Good luck seeing one in several lifetimes."

    Ban opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked irritated at himself.

    The Low Heal potion had 63 ingredients, and needed three weeks of brew time. Different parts were brewed simultaneously in multiple brewer''s cauldrons, and precision timing inbining the different parts was needed.

    Krow knew that because in an attempt to prevent more deaths, a group of transmigrated craftmasters publicized the Low Heal recipe. Every transmigrator group had at least one person who memorized that recipe.

    As StrawmanScare, who didn''t really have a permanent group, he took several months of reciting it before bed to learn it by heart. Even now, he had a hard copy tucked into his realworld bedside drawer.

    The dissemination of the recipe caused a storm in Zushkenar for a while, numerous bounties appearing for those craftmasters. They were never caught.

    "No questions about the procedure?"

    Ban stomped away. Frai sighed, stopped him awhile to say something under her breath, then let him go.

    Eh, as long as they did the work, Krow would call it a good morning.

    He didn''t choose Lumanel and this quest on a whim.

    The workshop quest had several sub-objectives, one of which was ''harvest 100 nts''.

    He figured, since Lumanel had dumped her family members'' fields on him several times before, she''d not object to clearing them all at once.

    "Why did you agree to an apprenticeship?"

    Krow nced at Frai, who was tugging at a whitebark shrub stump several rows over. "I suggested it, actually. Your uncle, he''s a master forester. I wanted the forester wright skills."

    "The workshop then?"

    "That was the vige head''s suggestion."

    "I''ve never heard of a forester workshop before."

    Krow nodded. "Most foresters tend to open butcher shops or herbalist shops, if they decide to open one at all. Forestry isn''t a profession that really needs a workshop."

    "Then why¡­?"

    "I''m a wright-rank butcher. If a butcher shop was opened, it would be under my name. This vige has enough herbalist workshops already. The forester workshop is...I suppose you could call it a semi-fiction. We are building the ce to train hunters. Your uncle, as a master forester, was the logical choice to head it."

    "We benefit, huh?"

    Krow paused. There was a slight edge to her words, a cynical disbelief.

    "Certainly. So do I. So does the vige. I, specifically, want a ce to manage the merchantry and production side of my hunting. That''s why I gave the workshop my recipes. Gysavur, in particr, wants to give the children of the vige a chance to learn a profession other than herbgrowing. That''s why he leased the workshop a tower with an option to purchase. Your uncle, I believe, wants a safe ce and a bright future for all of you, which is why he agreed in the first ce."

    Frai mulled that over.

    "You''re saying uncle has decided to settle here."

    "I''m saying he intends to give you the choice." Krow tossed a whitebark shrub onto his growing pile. "You do realize, that since the workshop is in your uncle''s name, it means your family would ownnd in the draculkar nation?"

    Not justnd, but a tower.

    Her eyes blinked in an unusual manner ¨C one after the other, instead of simultaneously. "Draculkar don''t sellnd to outsiders."

    "Yes. Well. Not often. So don''t tell anyone."

    "I''m surprised you didn''t ask for more."

    "Because it''s my apprenticeship that gives your uncle the residency options needed?" Krow hummed. "It''s a good deal, a deal which helps everyone in the long-term, even if we all lose a bit in the short-term."

    Frai made a considering sound.

    "Besides, I don''t think you''ve run your numbers right," Krow informed her with a grin. "If certain things were taken out of the equation, I''m actually sharking both your uncle and the vige head on this. It will change as you be wrights and we have more productse out of the shop, of course. But that''ster."

    Her eyes narrowed. With her vertically elongated pupils, it was more rming than most.

    He beamed.

    Despite the papers saying he would own just a quarter of the workshop with an eighth of the profits as dividend, when his contributions were all tallied he would in fact be raking in half the gross revenue.

    Krow set his focus to the harvesting.

    She stared at him for a long moment, before silently returning to the matter of the shrubs.

    It took four hours to clear all the fields, and it was definitely a happy feeling to see the quest numbers tick up without his input.

    [You''ve finished the party quest<strong> |:The Last Whitebark Fields:|</strong> with 301/200 Whitebark pieces harvested, gaining +20 Experience Points each, +2 Reputation Point in Cerkanst Vige each, +20 Silver Serpens!]

    [Quest Completion: A]

    They washed up at Lumanel''s, guzzling down the cool cider she served.

    She waved them off happily. "If you''re free,e for the nting next week!"

    They waved back.

    As soon as she closed the door, Ban red. "Tell me we''re not returning next week."

    Krow made a vague sound. "Depends on what next week''s like."

    Ban scoffed.

    Krow just tossed two serpens at him, distributing the quest reward to everyone.

    He jingled the remaining coins in one hand. "Someone find your uncle and the others."

    "Why?"

    "Lunch at the tavern."

    Frai inclined her head. "I know the way."

    "See you there then." Krow nced at his clock. It was twenty minutes or so before twelve noon, in-game time. "Come along, the rest of you."

    Kalorke was the bartender today. He nodded greeting, smiling a bit at his son.

    "Fourteen people," Krow informed him. "Two adults, the rest aren''t drinking age."

    "Maga will need Talebrech in the kitchen."

    Krow looked around at the full tavern, smiled. "We can help, if you want a few more servers?"

    Ban, right behind him, made a protesting sound.

    Kalorke studied their group, eyes taking in each new face. "Mh. Alright."

    "Great." Krow turned to the group. "It''s time for our next task this morning! Isn''t it exciting?"

    A chorus of sighs answered him.

    This had nothing to do with the workshop quest, but it was excellent for bonding, right?

 Chapter 119 - The Forester Workshop (3 Of 3)

    "Wee!" Krow greeted Amaleo and Frai with a grand smile, winking at the children behind them. "Let me direct you to your booth tonight ---oh weeping skies, one moment."

    Ban was arguing with three sirens which were evidently having fun with his hotheaded personality. He grabbed Ban''s cor and dragged him away, to theughter of the table.

    Stopping before Amaleo, he returned to his pretend greeter persona. "Sorry about that. Ban is one of our temporary servers here, he''ll lead you to your booth."

    The boy cursed at him. The young ones giggled, and Ban turned. "I''m---uncle! You''re finally here!"

    "Yes." Amaleo nced around the tavern. "What did I say about saying those words."

    "It was an ident!"

    Gaven, Rurel, and Atimur were being cooed over at one booth as they emptied their serving trays. Nari was telling off a half-drunk draculkar in another, smiling dangerously, backed by a scowling Talebrech.

    Amaleo saw all this and the edges of his lips twitched into a small smile, eyes lightening. He nodded at Krow. "I see. Will you be finished soon?"

    "Another half-hour, ording to Maga," Krow nodded to the bar where Kalorke''s wife presided, taking over for her husband as he ran out for a few supplies. "Most of the lunch rush will be over then."

    "I''d like to help," Frai said.

    "Can we as well?" "Yeah!" "It looks like fun."

    "There''s nothing fun about this," Ban told them.

    "Fun is a state of mind, kid." Krow led them toward the bar, earning a lift of Maga''s brow as she filled pitchers and poured cups. He turned to the younger ones. "Tavern rule. If you''re not taller than the counter, you can''t work here."

    Maga, hearing him, chuckled. The bar was elevated, just enough to be out of the reach of anyone not at least a teenager.

    A chorus of protests went up as none of the younger ones found themselves tall enough.

    Banughed at them. "That''s why you''re midgets and should listen to me. Come on."

    "Ah, here." Maga tossed Ban a cask of young cider, and topped it with a tray of stacked cups.

    "Thanks," Ban grimaced, tottered a little as he led the others away, answering a deluge of questions. "What? Why would you ask that, no, I''m not doing this again."

    Krow caught the draculkar cook''s attention. "Maga, this is Frai."

    "Another one of yours?" Maga smiled at Frai in good humor. "Come on then. Who knew a caravan would be stranded nearby? We need all the help we can get."

    She directed Frai to the back room where the others got their aprons.

    Krow nced at Amaleo, who hadn''t followed after Ban. "How was the ce?"

    "It''s got potential."

    "So are we going to do it, then?"

    Amaleo studied Krow with a slightly unnerving gaze. "I find myself feeling lucky to have you want to be an apprentice."

    "Just don''t skimp on the wright skills, master." Krow waved the sentiment away lightly.

    The other made chuffing sound of amusement. "Even if you''re a greedy one."

    "Greed feeds motivation, the old adages say. Who am I to dispute old wisdom?"

    "Frai told me you''re trying to assimte us into the vige. I see now it''s true."

    Huh.

    He didn''t think anyone caught that.

    And after one interaction with Lumanel and a few instructions from him? The mafmet girl was perceptive, wasn''t she.

    He''d have to remember that.

    Krow shrugged. "People won''t trust what the workshop sells if they don''t know the people."

    From the half-disgruntled and half-relieved sound Amaleo made, he''d thought the same.

    Krow smirked. "Don''t worry, my dear master. You can just keep having drinks with Gysavur and the other old people. Me, I''ll just pimp your kids to the vige as cheapbor."

    Amaleo shook his head at his humor.

    A thought came to Krow. "Oh, do you know how to make that mafmet jerky you had us try?"

    Amaleo blinked slowly at the out of the blue question. "You want to sell charque from the shop? I thought you''d be nning your own butcher shop, once your apprentices became wrights."

    "It''s easier to expand an already existing institution than create a new one. Besides, is there really a need for a dedicated butcher in this small vige?"

    The only workshop he nned to make himself was an enchanter workshop, and that was months in the future still.

    The old mafmet made a considering sound. "Yes, I know how to make charque. Would''ve starved if I didn''t. Think it''ll sell well?"

    "We''re draculkar."

    Was there need to say more? As long as it was meat, it was worth at least one try to draculkar.

    "I''m not likely to forget," was the dry answer.

    Krow paused. "You''ve warred against draculkar before."

    "A long time ago. But yes."

    He mulled that over. "So, can we harvest ingredients from the Forest, or?"

    Amaleo snorted. "Need to explore that bedamned Forest first."

    There were five sub-objectives to the workshop quest.

    -     Help harvest 100 nts

    -     Help hunt 100 monsters

    -     Help buy or lease workshop premises

    -     Help produce 3 different products

    -     Help sell 100 items

    The harvest had been finished this morning. He was nning on hunting in the afternoon. Amaleo was working on the premises. It was the production that Krow was thinking about when he asked Amaleo that question.

    With the leather polish recipe, and the leather curing solution, that was two products. Two types, anyway. The polish would produce [Good Leather Armor Polish] and [Superior Leather Armor Polish]. The curing solution would produce different basic leathers from different monsterhides.

    The quest probably meant ''items'', which meant they were covered already.

    But in case the quest meant types instead of items, Krow suggested the mafmet jerky.

    They left lunch early, going to review the workshop Contract at the First Tower.

    Sarnaan looked like she hadn''t slept all night. Her hair gathered at the top of her head, falling down in waves, slightly frazzled, a simpler style than usual. Dark crescents shadowed the underside of her eyes.

    She handed them the Contracts, and lurched away.

    Krow read.

    No wonder they hadn''t seen her all morning.

    Gysavur and Amaleo made yesterday''s preliminary contract a bitplicated with everything they wanted to put in there. Streamlining it had to be a nightmare.

    Krow paid particr attention to the rights of the workshop''s employees, the conditions needed to be part of the workshop, and the rights and allowances given by the vige to the workshop.

    Not bad. He had a feeling most workshops didn''t have so many freedoms.

    He nced at Gysavur. The old draculkar smiled to himself, pleased at what he was reading.

    Krow frowned, reread the contract.

    Still the same.

    The vige head was probably pleased he managed to argue in the use about locals being given priority for employment. Amaleo had countered that somewhat by insisting on a rmendation system and an entrance examination.

    His Scribe subss suddenly notified him he''d mastered Third Apprentice rank and was being promoted to Second Apprentice.

    He knew it.

    Thesest few days, there had been too much paperwork.

    Sarnaan had done a great job. Only a few minor changester, they signed the workshop into being.

    "Ah, Krow. The bandit belongings have been appraised and logged." Gysavur handed over a list and steered him into a storage room.

    Krow eyed the prices noted beside the enumerated items. "You''re¡­offering to buy them?"

    He''d forgotten about the loot from the bandits they''d encountered.

    The vige looted them for him, it appeared.

    "The least we can do."

    Krow blinked. "There are six Spells on here."

    "Since you downed most of the bandits, the rest decided to give you first pick of the scrolls." Gysavur pointed at a particr shelf, and then left with Amaleo.

    "Kind of them."

    Krow wasn''t going to refuse said kindness.

    Two of them were light-element Spells, unsuited for him.

    There were two movement spells. One was Double Jump and the other was Moonlight Walker.

    [Moonlight Walker]

    [Movement] [Active][3 Rank]

    [Under the moon, walk fearless.]

    He snapped it up.

    He already had Stormglide Steps, but he couldn''t use it until he bought another MND item or got lucky. Stormglide, a rank-six Spell, needed 500MP to activate. He only had the MP to activate it once before bing prey that couldn''t run away.

    Moonlight Walker, as a rank-three Spell, only needed 200MP.

    This was the flickering-ghost movement spell the bandit captain used?

    Very cool.

    The other two spells were Stonespike, rank-one, and Zephyr Slice, rank-two.

    He took all the Spells but Double Jump.

    It was possible to enchant an item with a Spell. Apart from the movement spells, all were spells that could be ced on weapons.

    From the armor and weapons, though there were two Rares, there was nothing he needed. He''d just end up selling them.

    He crossed the five Spell Scrolls off the list.

    Even with the biggest money-makers off the selection, the vige still owed Krow about thirty thousand drax. Mostly the Rares and the [Double Jump Spell Scroll].

    Excellent.

    He turned the list over, grabbed an old charcoal pen from a shelf, and started listing down items he wanted to buy.

 Chapter 120 - Interlude: Marai (1)

    "You''re living <em>where</em>?"

    "With Auntie Mal''s son, Eli."

    "Eli, who lives a floor down? Broody Eli? Eli <em>Crewan</em>?"

    "I know you don''t like him, but he''s pretty cool."

    Marai sat back, a little blindsided. "I don''t not like him."

    Bel raised her brows at her, but it was true.

    Eli Crewan, who''d been living for five years as their downstairs neighbor, was a corporate fratboy, though quieter than most of that type.

    Marai would''ve written him off if not for the awesomeness of his mother.

    She was a queen.

    If not for the woman suddenly half-adopting all the noisy bratty kids in the building and giving Marai some peace and quiet, she was fair certain she wouldn''t have passed her college finals.

    She shook that brief foray into the past from her mind. The cousin sitting before her was¡­

    "I thought you were with your college friends, not one flipping floor away."

    "Mom knows my college friends. I don''t want to talk to her."

    "Yeah, I get that. What I mean is, you had me haul your stuff to the lobby when I could''ve just dropped it at that guy''s door?! Your books are heavy, you know!"

    "You did say you needed exercise."

    She grabbed the girl''s cheek, pulled gently. stic. "Cheeky."

    "Hey." Bel knocked away her hand, pouting irritatedly.

    Cute. "I get enough exercise at my job."

    "Your job as a data analyst?"

    "The other one."

    Confusion twisted her cousin''s brows for a moment, then her eyes widened. She leaned closer and her voice lowered. Geez, it''s not a secret. "You''re still doing the atmospheric test thing?"

    "And taking advantage of their training facilities." Marai was a bit smug about that. Free flight training, hah.

    "If they know about it, is it taking advantage?"

    "Of course."

    She watched Bel try not to frown, but Marai knew her. Those teeth worrying the inside of her lip meant Bel was concerned. She obviously wanted to say something, but didn''t know if she should.

    Marai reached out and patted the other''s shoulder. "I''m not going to be coerced into things I don''t want to do. They''re not stopping me, and there''s a suspiciously non-specific training use in my contract."

    She sprawled out on the bistro seat. "You''re not distracting me. Why, for love of sanity, are you staying with Eli? I''m not sure what to think about this."

    "We''re roommates. He''s better than myst one."

    "Thest roommate that kept stealing your shoes, low bar."

    "I''m taking care of myself."

    "You''re sixteen."

    "Should I remind you of what you got up to at sixteen?"

    "That''s me. You''re not me, Bel."

    Her cousin was more sweet-natured. She only knew how to throw a punch because Marai taught her before she took those stupid college self-defense mandatories with subpar instructors.

    "Because I''m supposed to be better?"

    Marai looked up. The tone of the question was¡­odd.

    Bel slumped against her seat, wrapped her arms around her body.

    What?

    Bel met her gaze, a banked ze in dark eyes that were the exact same shape and color she saw in the mirror. "That because I do well with a few tests, I''m supposed to automatically know all the answers?"

    "¡­Bel?"

    "That I should be immediately more moral, more responsible, just <em>more</em> than anyone else?!"

    Suddenly the burning coals of ire turned to pleading in those familiar eyes.

    "I''m sixteen?"

    Marai stood, chair skittering back. She rounded the table and pulled her cousin into a hug.

    Because what the hell.

    What. The hell.

    Bel immediately tucked herself into Marai, like they were kids again, hands fisting in her jacket.

    Thank god it was a slow day at the bistro. She red the few people into looking away.

    "Sorry," Marai said, when she could talk again. "I''m sorry."

    Because she obviously missed something, if Bel exploded due to a singlement.

    She felt Bel shake her head, forehead pressing against Marai''s neck.

    "It''s no one''s fault but mine," Bel whispered. "I knew it would disappoint them. I just¡­it hurts more than I thought it would."

    Marai''s breath caught. "Please tell me you did not get pregnant on purpose."

    "I¡­no?"

    "Bel."

    "I nned to get drunk. This was just¡­a bonus."

    Marai didn''t know if she shouldugh hysterically or scream. "Oh, excellent. A bonus, that''s all it is, of course."

    "Please."

    "Just¡­why?"

    "I''m not¡­good at pacing myself." Bel started. "It was bearable in school, regr psychiatric health sessions."

    Marai grimaced at the reminder. Stupid mental health initiative can go drown in a tub.

    "I took every module I was interested in, but they still¡­went by too fast? It''s apparently praiseworthy when you do that."

    Marai snorted.

    She could see where this was going.

    She leaned back, knocking her head against the back of the seat.

    When did Bel start to show that extraordinary brain of hers? Ten? Eleven?

    Before that, she was just a child who was more curious than a bag of kittens, running around causing trouble with the cousins that were her age.

    She started butting into Marai''s age group at¡­six or seven years in age. Marai and her cohorts were nearly ten years older. There was no way they would let a kid join their shenanigans, even if she was their cousin.

    The solution, more often than not, was ess to the Inte and one of their spare tablets.

    Idiots, she sighed btedly. She and the others were idiot teenagers back then.

    Then again, it was probably for the best. Bel poured her curiosity into learning everything she could from the Net, and didn''t get prodigy points until it was the age people started heavy schoolwork.

    Bel had time to run around with a pack of friends and family, instead of being shanghaied into whatever prodigy sses would create one of those sallow-skinned,rge-eyed, delicate-boned, smug-bug geniuses that showed from time to time in the media.

    "I didn''t think it was that bad," Bel whispered.

    The crux of the matter: Bel''s parents were justifiably proud of their daughter. So proud they slung right around and proved that Bel''s brilliance definitely skipped a couple generations.

    They alienated the rest of the family with their idiocy.

    Marai sighed. "What you get foring back to this stupid city."

    "I missed everyone."

    Marai hugged her tighter.

    Of course. She came back, and found that her parents had put on her on a pedestal and demanded others worship her, and the cousins that used to run around with her now looked at her differently.

    She felt Bel''s pregnancy bump press against her. She loosened her arms.

    "One day, you''ll tell me his name."

    "No. It was an ident."

    "Dumbasses."

    "It was my decision. I¡ª"

    "Didn''t take the abortive meds when you found out," Marai finished. "Because you wanted to shove in your parents'' faces that you''re just as fallible as us mortals."

    There was a short silence. "You''re mad at me."

    No shit.

    "Because you went about the matter in the most idiotic, irresponsible, moronic¡ª"

    "I get it. That...that was the point."

    Maraiughed into her cousin''s stupid hair. It was a low, humorless sound, furious. "You realize the responsibility you brought on yourself? This baby, it isn''t a one-time effort. It''ll take over your life, <em>for</em> the rest of your life."

    "I know." Bel pulled away. She smiled, for some reason. "This is¡­I need something to focus on, apart from myself and the things I want to do. An anchor, I suppose. To slow me down."

    Marai stared at her. "I''m fair certain that''s worse. It''s not even logical."

    What. The. Hell.

    Did all prodigies think in ways that were so ''amazing''?

    "Don''t worry, Marai. I''m looking forward to being a mother. It will be an incredible journey."

    Marai resolved to check in with her cousin more often. Obviously, genius did something to the brain that made people insane.

    At the same time, she could ask Eli who the hell he thought he was, keeping the fact that he was housing her cousin from her?

    *

    "I did tell you," Eli motherloving Crewan, told her, blinking in confusion, after he let them in his apartment.

    "No."

    "I sent a message."

    He''d sent her only one message in thest two weeks. "The <em>balloon animal pic</em>?"

    She re-checked, just to be sure she remembered.

    "It''s a baby balloon," exined the idiot, so earnestly that she knew he was trolling her.

    "That was a baby?!"

    There was a snicker to the side.

    Marai turned to Bel. So did Eli.

    Bel raised her hands at their scrutiny. "I''ll just go¡­lie down."

    Marai didn''t stop her. Instead, she turned her attention to stupid Eli Crewan, but then paused at the look he was discreetly sending a retreating Bel.

    There was no heat in it, just evaluative, almost concerned.

    Her question came out less harsh than intended, "Why would you think I''d understand that?"

    He gave a small shrug, almost a twitch of the shoulder. "I imagined, if you were looking for her, she''d be the first person toe to mind when you got a baby-themed message?"

    She stared at him. "That is so meta, I don''t even. Next time pick a better image."

    "She''s self-sufficient, your cousin."

    "I know that." She didn''t stop staring.

    He stared back.

    She didn''t relent.

    "She''s wee to stay, as long as she likes."

    "Not sure about that."

    Even if Bel gave the impression that she''d moved in. Marai was apprehensive. Eli Crewan had abruptly changed a few parameters she thought were invible parts of his personality.

    That didn''t happen out of the blue.

    He was better now. She was happy about that.

    As someone who had been watching him spiral down a familiar-looking path, she was relieved.

    It was just¡­the shadows in his eyes were darker. From what she''d seen, he dealt with them healthier now.

    Or did he?

    Leaving her cousin with a potentially unstable person was definitely not a thing she was doing.

 Chapter 121 - 121 Interlude: Marai (2 Of 2)

    Eli waved her to sit wherever.

    Slightly awkwardly, Marai nced around the familiar apartment. She and Eli were not the kind of acquaintances that werefortable around each other.

    She could see it by the slight frown on his face that she was certain mirrored hers.

    He asked, "Something to drink?"

    "No thanks."

    She spied the Rends forums open on the ss monitor.

    "What are you doing?"

    He side-eyed her for a long moment. Rude. "I thought I had an idea. But it fell through."

    She boosted himself onto a kitchen stool. "You been ying Rends, right? This month? I can point you to a few questlines."

    He''d taken care of her cousin thisst week. Uneasy or not, she owed him.

    "I mostly take monster quests."

    "Oh. I¡­don''t know any questlines involving monsters."

    He smiled at her. "That''s alright."

    See? When was Eli ever so forgiving? If this was two months ago, he''d have sulked for a while and used her of hoarding information.

    "Just monster quests though? I wondered why Jori called you stupid."

    He did that nearly-not-there shrug of his. "I don''t want to get used to seeing people as antagonists. I''ve spent too much time already being suspicious of people''s motives, right?"

    The hell?

    That was¡­

    "I want the name and number of your therapist."

    Eli coughed, then broke intoughter at her words.

    "I''m actually serious."

    Heughed harder. She felt a smile tugging at her lips at the infectious sound. She quashed it.

    "Seriously, Eli."

    "No¡­no therapist," he hacked out, still wheezing. "Just¡­life, I guess."

    "Life."

    "Also, killing a lot of things in semi-reality."

    She rolled her eyes, made sure he could see it. Heughed again.

    All thisughter and smiling from Eli the Broody One was making her twitchy, god.

    It was like Pere Noel could just burst in through the window, singing some song about coal, and not be particrly noteworthy.

    "I just feel I''ll be needing one soon. Weird premonition, right?" Marai blinked as the disy cycled to his game profile. "Also, is that really your avatar name?"

    Eli nced at the crystalss and groaned. He gestured to close it.

    "No no, I wanna see this." She fended his hands off, erged the profile page.

    He was 88% cleared for Lvl 15.

    In one month?

    Not bad, but honestly, still average.

    Then she snorted at the long list of subsses tailing his page. "You''re a crafter build? Do you even want to make money on this?"

    She was leveling her crafter mainss too, and spending a bit of time on her subsses. But shit, that was more than ten subsses right there.

    No one said that was possible.

    No wonder he was still Lvl 15.

    "Eh, I have a n." He gave a small grin, confident. "It''s going to be great."

    This was the second time today she heard simr words.

    "Your optimism is horrifying, considering this profile." And even more horrifying, Bel had the same optimistic insanity.

    Seriously, two insane people, roommates.

    That wasn''t the start of a long slow descent into bad decision-making at all.

    She opened her mouth¡ªforcibly closed it.

    She wasn''t their parent.

    She wasn''t any kind of parent, thank god.

    She pped Eli''s hands to the kitchen counter, when he attempted to close out the profile again. "You know the money-making speed is ten levels a month after Lvl 30, right?"

    "Is that a Zee calction?"

    "What else could it be?" She was detail-oriented, but not crazy obsessed with minutiae. Zee was the one who got that way when he was interested in something.

    Zee''s calctions were the reason that she and the others who joined just two months ago leveled up with crazy speed. Most of them now had levels in the early 40s.

    "I''ll keep it in mind."

    Marai manipted his hand, thenughed. His collection inventory shed for a moment, but it was enough for her to see.

    Was he hoarding his badges? She smirked at him, even as he finally thwarted her and closed down his profile pages. "The rumors that if you activate battle badges at the same time means they''ll merge into a better badge is shit. You actually believed that? It''s better to activate immediately."

    There was a long silence.

    "¡­you have to¡­hm, sure. I''ll see to it."

    Honestly.

    Sheughed again. "You didn''t know? Let me guess, you didn''t buy the in-game announcement and forum ess feature."

    He shrugged. "It''s optional. Therefore not that important to gamey."

    Agreed, actually.

    But she wasn''t the strategist in the guild.

    "You''re not in a guild."

    "No."

    "Solo?"

    "Yeah."

    "Buy the feature, gods."

    She was fairly certain he was going to refuse on principle, but then he didn''t say it. He frowned. "Another Zee calction?"

    She shrugged. It was Jori and Sian who monitored yer movements and gossip via the announcements and forums, really. No idea whose suggestion it was.

    It helped with the timing of a few of their raids.

    He huffed. Frowned at her. "You''re actually not threatening me, about Bel''s health and safety?"

    He asked now?

    Marai sighed, the conversation in the bistro returning to her. Bel had enumerated all the ways in which she prepared for her pregnancy and after.

    It was slightly awe-inspiring, but the facts were still facts. Bel had ced a massive burden on herself, even if she was excited and enthusiastic about it.

    Marai felt her young cousin was treating this like she treated her school projects.

    It wasn''t a bad thing. She''d seen one of those projects, meticulously nned.

    But school projects didn''t change your body chemistry, didn''t demand attention and care at all day, didn''t wake you up as soon as you crashed on the bed exhausted, didn''t scream and cry at all hours without your input.

    Marai had babysat a whole spectrum of little cousins.

    Even if schedules and activities were nned to the minute, something always, <em>always</em> took an unexpected turn.

    She eyed Eli, whose frown was turning into curiosity and concern the longer she didn''t answer.

    "Something wrong?"

    "Bel''s a bit impulsive," she said atst. "when her emotions are high. She has a tendency to not ask for help if there''s a problem that stresses her. Don''t let her make major decisions without talking to someone."

    He blinked, a shocked expression taking over his face.

    Yeah, she was a bit surprised too.

    She shouldn''t trust the guy with Bel so easily.

    But she''d always gone with gut instincts when it came to family. The practice hadn''t let her down yet. Her gut now said Eli wouldn''t hurt Bel.

    That was good enough for now.

    If this didn''t work out, she had a few options.

    She narrowed her eyes deliberately. "You understand what I''m saying, Crewan?"

    He nodded, a single jerk of his chin.

    Like it was an answer to a challenge.

    She couldn''t help her silent groan.

    God, they really were alike, weren''t they.

 Chapter 122 - Advance

    [You''ve activated the Underdog Might Badge, gaining +5 STR, +2 VIT, +15 RP in Marfall Continent!]

    [You have achieved 50 points of Vitality!]

    [Due to achieving 50 points of Vitality, your HP regeneration has been increased by 10% per minute!]

    [You''ve activated the Goliath''s Bane Badge, gaining +10 STR, +5 VIT, +2 DEX, +25 RP in Marfall Continent!]

    [You''ve activated the Rival to Heracles Badge, gaining +10 STR, +10 VIT, +5 DEX, +2 MND, +50 RP in Marfall Continent!]

    [As the first to attain and activate the Rival to Heracles badge, you''ve gained 500 drax, 10,000 XP, and 100 World RP!]

    [You have gained four (4) levels to achieve Lvl 19!]

    [You have achieved 75 points of Strength!]

    [Due to achieving 75 points of Strength, yer carry weight limit has been increased by 100kg!]

    [You''ve activated the Monster yer Badge, gaining +1 MND and the ability to cause Fear in lower level monsters!]

    [You''ve activated the Easy Prey Badge, gaining +5 Stealth!]

    [You''ve activated the Sham Swordfighter Badge, gaining +10 Stealth!]

    [You''ve activated the Wolf in Sheepskin Badge, gaining +10 Stealth, +10 Mental rity!]

    [You have umted 50% Stealth chance, creating the skill ''Stealth'' to be added to your main ss skills.]

    Krow stared at the Wolf in Sheepskin badge, thest badge he activated.

    Battle-rted badges have to be activated?

    Why?

    Subss badges automatically activated.

    Not to mention, his Bronze Soldier badge thest time around was a battle badge, wasn''t it?

    That one didn''t need activation.

    He huffed.

    What, was it a feature that was removed in a future update?

    What was the use of needing activation?

    He didn''te across this in the forums. From what Marai said, it wasn''t recent?

    Krow flicked the badge back into his collection.

    He''d like to research it further, but not today.

    The realworld date was November 29.

    Krow might not have achieved Lvl 20 before December, but even if he wasn''t satisfied, he could call himself content with this.

    Achieving Lvl 20 in a month wasn''t slow. It was above average, in fact.

    But it was far below elite speed. A diligent and talented yer could achieve Lvl 20 in two weeks, and then approach Lvl 30 at the end of the month. Top rankers might even achieve Lvl 30 in the first month.

    What Marai said about striving to gain at least 10 levels a month after that?

    It wasn''t insignificant effort.

    The questlines grew ever moreplex at higher levels.

    Krow''s Rare equipment would slowly be less of a cheat after Lvl 30. By Lvl 40, it would be the same as Umon-grade armor to a Lvl 15 ¨C useful but not particrly notable, plus also needing a lot of repairs.

    Krow walked out of his room in an ted and contemtive mood.

    He blinked, looked around.

    It was too quiet.

    The usual group wasn''t in the entry hall of the First Tower.

    He wasn''tte, or early. Where was his usual hunting group and his apprentices?

    "Krow, over here!" Sarnaan called from the doorway to one of the meeting rooms.

    Did something happen?

    In the room, everyone was huddled over a wooden chest.

    "What''s happening?"

    "You ordered rank pins?" Sarnaan smiled at him as if he was hopeless. "This isn''t a city, you know. Or even arge town."

    Krowughed. "But they look good, right?"

    They also allowed him and Amaleo to put in some security measures for the workshop.

    "Apprentice Krow. This is yours."

    He caught the pin Amaleo tossed at him. It was small and circr, the size of his thumbnail.

    He didn''t have to see it to know: the design etched on the metal was a leafy branch and a silver arrow.

    He and Amaleo came up with it, after all.

    He only had a moment to notice the pin was framed in silver when the notification appeared.

    [Congrattions! Your Forester subss has been promoted to Third Wright!]

    [For advancing to Wright Rank within one day of apprenticeship, you''ve gained the Treewalker Badge!]

    [You''ve learned the Wright skill ''Survivalist'' under the Forester Subss!]

    [You''ve learned the Wright skill ''Woond Enforcer'' under the Forester Subss!]

    [You''ve learned the Wright skill ''Sylvan Soothsayer'' under the Forester Subss!]

    Huh.

    He beamed at Amaleo.

    He''d heard of the skill Survivalist, but not the other two.

    Thest time, the Wright skill he had certified in Zushkenar was ''Forager'', which was all the basic apprentice Forester skills (hunt, trap, stalk, harvest) tested in a single long examination.

    From what he learned though, ''Survivalist'' was the skill certified in Foresters that joined the armies as scouts. It was Forager with maybe a soldier skill or two added in. Or maybe Forager with emphasis on hunt, trap, and stalk.

    He had to check what ''Woond Enforcer'' and ''Sylvan Soothsayer'' didter.

    But.

    Three skills!

    He was now a Forester Wright!

    It was an excellent harvest.

    He pulled out a knife, nicked his thumb and pressed it onto the pin.

    [Cerkanst Forester Lodge Wright-rank Membership Pin has been Bloodbound to s Krow!]

    It took gold to get the pins created and enchanted to be able to take a bloodbinding, but it would be worth it for being able to activate the security enchants on the tower.

    "You went beyond what I expected," Amaleo murmured to him. "You''ve earned this."

    He ced a small box in Krow''s hand and went to distribute the other pins.

    The only problem was...

    Krow didn''t have an essory slot for a pin.

    Tsk.

    Kind of shortsighted of you, Norge!

    He strung his wright pin on a leather cord taken from the First Tower''s storage, and used it as a pendant.

    Returning to the celebrating room, he saw Talebrech and Atimur watching. He took out the box Amaleo gave him, sidled up to his apprentices.

    "Talebrech, it''s been a full ten days since you became my apprentice, hasn''t it?"

    "Master Krow?"

    He plucked a silver wright pin from the box. "You''ve earned this."

    The design of the butcher pin was two crossed cleavers.

    Talebrech stared at the silver-framed pin in his hand, frozen.

    [You''ve raised one (1) Apprentice Butcher to Wright-rank! 1/10]

    ording to his apprentice''s stats, Talebrech had gained two basic skills and a major skill at apprentice level.

    Skinner, Field Dressing, and Knife Handling, respectively.

    Krow didn''t even have the Field Dressing skill, which meant Talebrech gained it spontaneously.

    He''d really earned that silver pin.

    Krow let him process.

    "Atimur."

    The boy straightened. "You''ve been my apprentice for three days. But I can tell, you''ll be an excellent butcher."

    "Yes, Master Krow." He received the copper-framed apprentice pin with a smile that couldn''t quit. "Thank you very much."

    "Thank you, Master Krow." Talebrech finally came out of his stupor.

    The two boys grinned at each other, ran to their new friends to show off too.

    There were other pins too, differentiating Administration, Production, and temporary or probationary workers.

    The tower workshop would be where the children slept, so Amaleo had been stringent with security, the pins limiting ess to various rooms.

    Krow had supported it, because he knew the feeling of needing safety.

    He pocketed the box.

    How had Gysavur managed to have the pins made so fast?

    Krow expected to go to Rakaens again to have them made. A bloodbinding enchant added to an item wasn''t something amateurs could do.

    He looked around.

    Sarnaan was cooing over the excited children. Gysavur and Amaleo were smiling in one corner.

    The children were enthusiastically conversing, no barriers between them.

    Eh, if there was an enchanter in Cerkanst, that was a mystery forter. He leaned back and watched as casks of cider were wheeled in by people from the tavern.

    Kalorkeughed proudly when his son showed him the silver pin that said the fourteen year old was now a full-fledged butcher.

    "Call everyone!" He cried to the servers that had apanied him. "Bring out the wine!"

    His words were greeted with cheers.

    Krow felt his lips curling into a smile.

    This was the time.

    Even if the quest hadn''t finished yet...

    It really felt that the workshop started here.

 Chapter 123 - The Runaway (1)

    <em>13 Dec, 2095. 2:48 a.m. Tuesday</em>

    <em>*</em>

    <em>8:36 a.m., 21st day of the ninth circling, 9116AS</em>

    <em>Trade route to Tvard</em>

    *

    Travel between towns, cities, and viges, could take hours and days, even for those who could afford speedier transport.

    It could get tedious, especially if a yer traveled often.

    The game creator''s answer to that was ssic: random encounter.

    In the six in-game days of travel, the apothecary caravan Krow joined on Morumain''s suggestion encountered three monster attacks, two bandit attacks, and an encounter with a band of thieves traveling on the same road.

    What was the difference between bandits and thieves?

    Rends differentiated mostly by location and methodology: bandits were generally encountered in rural areas, thieves in towns. Bandits raided, taking everything; thieves sneaked into a ce and were selective about their loot.

    The carriage hurtling toward him could be either, really.

    It wasn''t that farfetched a distraction.

    It burst from the woods, and was almost on Krow before he could react.

    The horse under him bolted.

    Shkav!

    He braced against the saddle and reined the horse into circling.

    Several riders converged on the driverless carriage, falling on the pping reins to haul the four horse heavy carriage to a stop. The leader of the caravan guards leaped from his horse when efforts failed, grabbing onto the cor of the lead horse and leaning back.

    "Krow!"

    Ebry, whose wagon he''d been riding with for most of the journey leaned out from his seat on the driver''s bench, craning his neck. The wagons of the caravan ground to a slow walk.

    After so much trouble on this journey, everyone fell into defensive positions automatically.

    "I''m fine!" He finally got the sted horse under control, jumped down as Calon, the guard leader, and two others used their bodies to brake the carriage.

    Strong horses.

    His horse bolting likely saved him a maiming,e to think of it.

    But that still didn''t mean he liked horses.

    Learning to ride was just practical.

    He drew his gun, nced at the others. They warily eyed the sides of the road and the cliff behind them.

    "If they wanted to ambush us," muttered Ebry. "A few kilometers behind at Wildfall Cliff would''ve been better."

    The draculkar rider pacing the wagon chuckled. "I''m sure the bandits would appreciate yourmentary on their technique, Ebrs."

    "It''s Ebry."

    "You change your name so often," the rider snorted. "I''ll stick to the one your parents gave you."

    "It''s really Ebry this time!"

    "Uh-huh."

    Krow strode to the carriage door, nudged it open.

    The precaution paid off. A dagger flew past his ear. Not forceful enough. He twisted to catch it. "This is the¡ª"

    A figure rushed out of the carriage, clothes pping, headed for the trees.

    It tripped over a rut in the road, fell t in a mass of robes.

    There was a short silence. The figure groaned.

    It was now evident the figure was a man.

    "I''m Krow," he started again, ignoring that the other was t on his face. "And this is a Drevalen Apothecary caravan."

    The man pushed himself up, stared at them for a long moment of suspicion, pale blue eyes taking in the riders and the wagons, Krow and the caravan guard leader nearing them.

    Relief suffused his rotund face. "Thank the Eighteen! I haven''t been murdered by bandits!"

    He bounced to his feet and beamed at them, dusting himself off with small fastidious pats. He frowned at a smear of mud on his sleeve. "Oh, skies. I must change. I feel terrible to be seen in this state, excuse me."

    Oh no.

    Was the guy a noble?

    Calon came up, paused at that spiel, face quickly falling into neutral lines. "Sir, you said there were bandits?"

    "Oh, don''t sir me. I''m Avan Frend. Just call me Avan."

    "I''m Calon, the escort leader of this caravan. Where were you attacked?"

    Another bandit attack?

    Krow eyed the trees.

    Well, he''d actually gained Lvl 20 on this journey, so he wasn''tining.

    He listened with half an ear to Calon questioning Avan Frend, interest caught by the subtle detailing of the heavy carriage.

    It was the kind of carriage designed to take heavy fire.

    Not umon for traveling carriages of the wealthy.

    It was ck all over, the four grey horses basically the only ssh of color in the ensemble.

    Wait, four greys?

    Why did that sound familiar?

    He frowned at the horses.

    They were perfectly matched greys, all of them dappled ck and white on the hindlegs.

    From the color, they couldn''t be ordinary.

    It was a bit of trivia he''d learned in Zushkenar from a former RSI employee. The monsters in Rends were handpainted by the numerous teams under Norge, who liked to rx with coloring programs.

    No single monster was exactly the same, even with a designated color palette assigned to each monster type.

    To get four monsters of simr design, there was a breeding algorithm. Basically, a pair of monsters that matched in color and design a whole Rarity Grade higher than unmatched pairs.

    It was one of those small details that were put in for the observant to notice.

    It was a feature of all animals in Rends.

    Someone who could buy four matched horses would not be an ordinary person.

    But why was it familiar?

    "Excellent horses," Ebry came beside him with a calcting look in his eye, ever the merchant.

    "Oh?"

    "Come convince the owner not to leave them behind. I''ve been trying to say they''d sell for a fair gold in Tvard, but the human is stubborn."

    Tvard. Four greys.

    The memory struck Krow, surprise prickling up his spine.

    The Runaway Grey quest!

    The quest was to find a runaway grey horse, which turned into capturing four horses, which turned into a search for the owner. Bringing the owner to the Primar gained a continuing questline or a city key.

    The intelligent yer would take the quests.

    Krow inwardlyughed at himself. The days where people praised his intelligence were far behind him.

    The city key was nothing more than a bonus from the leader of the city. Since many cities in Rends were actually city-states, it counted as a royal boon.

    Of course, the questline from the city leader would also be a Unique questline, with great rewards. Done right, it would funnel the yer into one of Tvard''s storyline quests.

    Compared to that, a mere city key was paltry reward.

    The key could be redeemed for 1,000 gold drax, can be used to gain military training from the royal guard, can be used to ess elite and restricted areas of the city.

    It didn''tpare to the questline at all.

    But Tvard had one thing that interested Krow.

    The Tvard Enchanter''s Library.

 Chapter 124 - The Runaway (2)

    Krow shook his head at Ebry. "They''re his horses."

    "But the waste, Krow! Think of it."

    "Not our waste."

    "I came to you for support," Ebry all but whined, theatrically pressing the back of his hand to his eyes.

    He really was rted to Morumain.

    "I support the view that a person can do whatever they want with their belongings." Krow felt whole organizations of animal conservators on Earth look around suspiciously, feeling the need take up arms at the sphemy that came out of his mouth.

    He made a mental note to delete that clip from his personal database as soon as he logged out.

    He looked around.

    The vid-owl appeared to have gone up a level in Stealth; he couldn''t see it anywhere.

    His video records would always be pinned to the same three angles, plus the avatar perspective, so the lurking thing should be around somewhere.

    A hand mped on Krow''s shoulder.

    "My friend," came a wet voice. "Your words are a balm!"

    Krow nced behind him. The runaway Avan Frend was staring at him with teary eyes.

    Baffled, he looked at Ebry, who huffed and looked away.

    Bro, you''re not my girlfriend, alright?

    Why are you acting like a wronged maiden?

    "Krow," Calon said immediately. "As you and our guest have a philosophical connection, you''ll be assigned to his security until we reach Tvard."

    Shkav, no.

    That bastard.

    In another life, he''d done escort jobs.

    Avan Frend seemed to be the worst kind of protectee ever. ky, airheaded, convinced of his own greatness, and a talker.

    Calon had taken the opportunity to dump all that on him.

    He opened his mouth to protest, but Calon strode away stiffly.

    Tsk.

    He hoped the escort leader retained that road rash for days.

    He shoved his revolver into its holster.

    "You are Krow? Have you ever been to Baraldore? It is a city of great beauty, you must visit. I once traveled your sky-cities, you know. Excellent, but somehow I always felt a yearning for home."

    Krow leaned back, murmured to Ebry. "How long until Tvard again?"

    "Three hours."

    Three hours. He could deal.

    "Great." He smiled grandly at Avan. "What are your favorite ces in Baraldore, may I ask?"

    "Oh! I''m d you asked, there are so many! There''s the Pce, of course, do you know it has two thousand and two hundred rooms in total and over nine smaller interconnected pces? You must see the Pce Gardens when you visit, it has many more specimens than the gardens you have in your skies, haha! Then there are the conservatories, by the Eighteen, they can''t be missed! Better than your morning songs, I hear, eh?"

    He couldn''t deal.

    Ebry brought Krow a horse, patted him on the shoulder with a smug smile, and quickly left.

    He cursed at the siren in his head.

    He''d been nning to sit his new protectee by Ebry.

    Because if he was to be tormented, then others should share in the torment too!

    Krow was part of the protection detail, but he was only technically under themand of Calon, alright?

    If the leader cked off, his subordinates suffered.

    Avan nimbly mounted the horse, still talking. "Have you heard of the Crystal Baths in the south of Baraldore? Refreshing, I say. Refreshing! Like a morning ride, hm? What a morning. I am ever grateful that you all came by, did I say? Oh, you are the one I threw the dagger at? I must apologize, I was distraught. So distraught I could not answer when you spoke."

    Was there something that can be done to make the man descend into distraughtness again?

    Krow looked around in consideration.

    He was surely not the only one thinking it.

    Who would make a good aplice?

    Unfortunately, the riders moved away from them. Ebry red at Krow as he and Avan stayed by his wagon.

    He smiled sunnily back. "Are we there yet?"

    Ebry twitched, face falling as he understood Krow wasn''t moving from his post. "Two hours and three quarters."

    Only fifteen minutes had passed? It felt longer.

    That forsaken Norge, what kind of twisted mind came up with an escort quest like this?

    "Oh, I almost forgot, next month there is the Aska Stakes at the Breness Racecourse. You know the Breness, certainly! I''ve never met anyone who didn''t. I¡­someone I know has a horse in the running, so you must bet on Garblue Lightning! Best out of the Grayesand Stables yet!"

    Krow endured, nodding when the man turned to him during a particr enthusiastic rmendation.

    City key, he told himself. The Enchanter''s Library.

    To enter the Enchanter''s Library, a yer needed to know someone who was a part of the Tvard Enchanters'' Association or work their way up the ranks of the organization.

    Either way would take time that Krow didn''t have to spare.

    His papers from the application for the Bloodright Gauntlet returned, and with it a Unique quest. He had to be at least Lvl 30 to participate.

    There were two level brackets. The lower bracket had a minimum of Lvl 30.

    Krow had a feeling that just gaining Lvl 30 wouldn''t be enough to fully take advantage of the opportunity. That was why his goal was the next tier, which started on Lvl 45.

    He had two and a half months to prepare.

    That was cutting it close.

    One reason why he was making this trip now: once he started going deeper into the Forest, most of his time would be spent on his gear.

    The quest he was after was ''The Lost Tigercat'' quest in Galbrane.

    But since the route was going through Tvard, how could he pass up the opportunity to acquire something for his future Enchanting career?

    Despite the draculkar despising the vargvir race, vargvir were actually some of the best enchanters in Rends.

    Tvard was, in another life, one of his favorite cities to explore.

    Finally, he would see something familiar and dear with his own eyes. Virtual eyes, but still.

    Krow was looking forward to it.

 Chapter 125 - The Runaway (3)

    Seeing the city of Tvard again filled Krow with nostalgia, exceeding nostalgia.

    It was a walled city, with nine walls separating the city into concentric circr areas.

    The four gates at secondary points of thepass further subdivided the city with four primary roads cutting through each area, culminating in fourrge public squares in the second circle.

    The innermost circle was the Sacred Wood, a forbidden forest spanning an area of thirty or so square kilometers.

    The Primar''s residencey within, as well as Kombar''s Arena where the nobles would duel over disputes under the eyes of Kombar of Creation, deity of alchemy and change, shapeshifter, often represented by a six-legged chimera, often satiricized as god of Beasts.

    Between each wall, there was one to two kilometers of space divided into quarters by the roads.

    Most of it was woond, with city buildings clustering around the primary roads.

    Funny, that a people who worshipped a deity of change, who were hotheaded and warminded, would design a city with foundations so delineated by order.

    "Tvard! City of artificers!" Avan Frend broke through Krow''s thoughts.

    They were still several kilometers away, but the city already dominated the horizon, the gentle hilly terrain lifting it to prominence.

    "Tvard," Krow agreed.

    A smile briefly curled his lips. The city looked great.

    "Oh! I must disguise! Where are my trunks! It was this wagon, wasn''t it? Or was it that one? Why are your wagons all the same colors? Ugh, it''s like that ugly carriage Balbroa forced me to travel in. My good man, do you have my trunks?"

    The driver of the wagon pointed silently, then gave Krow a sympathetic nce as Avan trotted his horse to the other wagon.

    Krow shrugged.

    He''d gotten numb to it.

    He followed the Baraldore native, watched as he rather dexterously jumped into the wagon from his horse. This was the guy that tripped over his own feet getting out of a carriage? Had he been faking?

    There had been no sign of the bandits the man mentioned, either.

    "Why do you need a disguise?"

    "So I won''t be seen, of course! Why would anyone need a disguise? Oh, my cloak! This will do."

    The ''cloak'' was more a shawl, sheer and impractical.

    One of the riders nearby snorted. "Can that still be called a cloak?"

    Avan looked politely at the mafmet who had spoken. "What''s wrong with it?"

    Krow answered. "It attracts attention."

    "Yes, that''s why I bought it." He swung the cloak over a shoulder, flicked a corner to arrange the drape, smiled at them all. "Handsome, yes?"

    Krow had a headache.

    Just when he thought he was used to the guy¡­

    <em>Enchanter''s Library</em>, he soothed his irritation by chanting the two words in his head. "You said you wanted to not be seen."

    "Oh. Yes. That would be difficult, wouldn''t it?" Avan mournfully returned his shawl-cloak to one of the trunks pulled from the traveling carriage.

    The caravan had to shift a whole wagonload to carry those trunks, which Krow thought was exceedingly tolerant of them.

    Avan turned an expectant look to Krow. "What would you suggest?"

    What would he¡­?

    Well, he did still have that. He took the Darkfall Hooded Cape out of his Travelpack.

    The other squinted at it, horrified. "It''s¡­dark?"

    "At least it''s not ck."

    The man still didn''t move.

    "No one would believe you would wear such a thing."

    Avan deted. "Your logic is impable." He gained back some of his exuberance. "No one would recognize me!"

    "That''s the n."

    Krow could see the other''s hesitation even as he took the cloak and swirled it around his shoulders.

    "How do I look?"

    Krow contemted for a moment, then decided on the word. "¡­dignified."

    At the very least, the almost gaudy ensemble the other wore was concealed under the cloak.

    Avan lit up. "Oho. I could act like Balbroa!"

    He squared his shoulders, pasted a stoic look on his face, and leaped onto his horse from the wagon. "Let us resume."

    Krow shook his head, half-amused. The guy was an overgrown child.

    They reached Tvard without issue, regardless of Avan feeling the need for disguise.

    The southeast gate wasrge, with three entranceways wide enough for three wagons abreast entering at the same time.

    The wall was twenty metres high.

    It would take only two sessive double-jumps for Krow to hurtle over that wall. And that was just using a minor movement spell.

    By looks alone, the wall was insufficient.

    But this world had magic.

    And Tvard was a city with a history of raising some of the greatest enchanters in Zushkenari history.

    "What''s taking so long?" Avanined. "It''s never been so long before. Are the guards today ipetent?"

    Oh shkav.

    Said guards stiffened. So did Ebry and Calon.

    The one holding the caravan papers and entry token perused them with deliberate thoroughness. "From the high mountains, are you?"

    "What? I''m from Baraldore." Avan carelessly waved away the question that hadn''t been asked of him in the first ce.

    Ebry jumped on the reprieve. "Found him on the road. Kindhearted as I am, could I leave him there?"

    Escort leader Calon sent Krow a look.

    Krow reached to tug the hood over his assigned protectee''s head. A reminder and a warning.

    "What? Oh, of course. Balbroa." Avan fell silent, obviously a great effort.

    The gate guard''s eyes softened, but only slightly. "Hm."

    He still studied the papers for a bit more time than necessary before waving them in silently with a perfunctory gesture.

    Krow, feeling the cold reception, was a little taken aback.

    Calon saw something in his expression. "Never been to Tvard before? It isn''t the kindest ce for draculkar."

    Oh.

    Krow should''ve expected¡­

    As much as draculkar disparaged the vargvir race, it was logical that the vargvir would scorn them just as much.

    Calon sped his shoulder. "Stay close if you feel ufortable. Unfamiliar ces can feel scarier than they really are."

    He guided his horse away, heading for another rider.

    Krow was grateful for thefort, but Tvard was not unfamiliar to him.

    The problem, really, was that he''d been here before.

    "Krow!" Avan nudged his horse closer to them. "I''m going to see my friend. Will you go with me that far? He''ll probably send people for my things." He swished the Darkfall Cape. "I''ll return this to you then. It may be growing on me!"

    "Really?"

    Avanughed. "No, not really."

    Krow snorted. "Alright."

    A split second of surprise shed across Avan''s face. "You <em>are</em> apanying me?"

    Maybe he hadn''t hid his irritation as well as he thought.

    "Sure."

    He still had to finish the escort quest. Besides, the other''s interruption had jogged him out of thoughts that were spiraling downward.

    He looked around the familiar city, the familiar skyline. His excitement to see Tvard again was still there, but now mixed with uncertainty.

    Avan beamed at him. "Forward, then!"

    The caravan was left in the seventh circle, as Avan led him onward.

    The closer to the Sacred Wood, the more prestigious the district.

    Within the fifth wall were the so-called inner districts, where the wealthy and elite of the city dwelled. It took them a half hour at a canter to get there from where they left the caravan.

    "Oh, that''s the theatre where the Aberskan yers first put on Gared and the Maiden''s Wish. I was at the premiere, you know, you just have to hear the music. It is inexpressively moving."

    Krow suddenly became a tourist, and rxed on his horse, content to listen. He''d visited the inner districts before, but he had nothing like Avan''s knowledge of the ce.

    Now that he had a second look, this Tvard was subtly different from the Tvard of hisst two lives.

    When he first saw the city, it was still Rends, but a year from now even this massive fortress city would have been touched by war.

    Then after the Quake, riots broke out as transmigrators panicked.

    This was likely as pristine a Tvard as he was going to get.

    "The arenas are livelier than thest time I came by. Should we go to see?"

    Krow quickly derailed that thought. "Shouldn''t we see your friend first?"

    He didn''t want to be in a fighting arena with a bunch of hyped up vargvir. The odds that they would throw him, a draculkar, into the pit were too high.

    "Oh, yes. He should be waiting."

    Krow blinked. "He knows you''reing?"

    "His spies would''ve told him already." Avan said it casually, as if it weremonce to have spies in the everyday.

    His friend was definitely the Primar. If not, then someone in the family.

    "Is that something you should be saying to people?"

    "What could they do about it?"

    Krow snorted, amused at the sudden sass. "Harsh."

    Because ouch, he already knew he was a nobody, alright?

    "Oh, this is it."

    It was an alley.

    Avan expertly maneuvered the borrowed horse through the narrow pathway behind buildings. Krow followed, uneasy. Was it because the buildings were too close together?

    "Why here?"

    "I''ve alwayse this way. Hadi, my friend, has peculiar ways. When I take the front doors, he doesn''t like to talk to me. Actually, sometimes, when I take this way, he still doesn''t talk to me."

    Wasn''t that just yanking your chain? Krow''s bemused smile quirked into existence briefly.

    The uneasy feeling persisted. Was it because the draculkar-vargvir feud threw him off?

    The alley wasn''t that narrow. It was a back way to some of the buildings around. A few people looked up from stoops and back courtyards to nce at them, but either way, they were ignored.

    "I remember it was this way." Avan turned a corner.

    Krow only had a split second to react to the horse''s scream.

    Avan''s horse fell, front legs disappearing in a spray of blood and flesh. Krow grabbed the man, already tipping forward dangerously, hauled him behind the saddle, urging his horse forward toward the ambush.

    The path was too narrow to turn back.

    The horse had been inured to attack by the encounters on the road, and unhesitatingly jumped its writhingpanion and charged the three people blocking the alleyway.

    Weeping skies.

    Obviously, he''d spoken too soon.

 Chapter 126 - The Runaway (4)

    Sometimes, great questlines came from simple things. There was a Legendary quest that some guild acquired only because they chose a particr building for their guild headquarters.

    Once they got in the gates of Tvard, Krow rxed, expecting the escort quest to end quietly.

    Obviously the world didn''t agree.

    Krow emptied his revolver as they barreled past the scattering trio, who hadn''t expected them to charge.

    "Take the reins!" He shoved the leads into Avan''s hands just as the man grabbed Krow to bnce his sudden change in circumstance.

    A nod brushed against Krow''s shoulder, and the other grabbed the reins, careened them into a side street at full speed.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 25 bandit and gained five (5) silver serpens! 1/8]

    Bandits?!

    Avan Frend hadn''t been exaggerating getting lost in the woods and making up a story to get sympathy? Most of the caravan thought that actually, from the pieces of gossip his ears caught.

    Wasn''t he just a wealthy son who ditched his security detail?

    Krow reloaded, called up the Map. Targeting should be triggered, since they were attacked.

    Sure enough, red dots showed up on the local map.

    His brow twitched.

    Avan had just set them on course to intercept the main group.

    Was he still trying to get to his friend?

    Obviously the route had beenpromised! The reasonable thing to do was go another way. At the very least, run from the attackers.

    Toote.

    Two horses rounded the corner, the riders brandishing polearms.

    If they got close¡­

    "Keep going!" Krow yelled when he felt the horse''s muscles start to bunch, in response to Avan pulling back on the reins.

    He dug his heels into the horse''s nks as the reins ckened obediently.

    He drew the shieldburst revolver and aimed at the approaching horse''s front legs.

    Two bullets, and two riders tumbled from their saddles. The rmed noises of the horses alerted the surrounding area to the altercation.

    Windows and doors started closing.

    Smart.

    Krow twisted in the saddle. One rider bounced up from his roll off the horse, now pursuing.

    Weeping graves, did everyone have a movement spell these days?

    Krow shot darkspears, forcing the bandit to duck.

    "Left, take the left!" The horse barreled into the next narrow street. "I said left!"

    "That''s not the way, though!" cried Avan.

    "They <em>know</em> the way, or haven''t you noticed!" Krowid suppressing fire on the two people who appeared before them.

    "Oh! I wondered how they kept finding us!"

    "Just go!"

    Avan wheeled the horse and they shot into another side street. Krow kept the attackers from following them too closely, shooting shieldbursts. An arrow skidded across his vambrace.

    Avan yelled in surprise and jerked the horse into an alley again.

    "Stop shouting into my ear!" Another arrow was deflected by his pauldrons. Avan strangled his reaction to an arrow passing by his ear.

    Krow kept sending shieldbursts at their pursuers, darkspear-loaded gun tracking the arrows'' trajectory.

    There.

    A figure moved on an elevated balcony.

    Six shots, one after the other, sounding like a single long burst. The figure toppled backward off the parapet.

    Hah!

    He''d upgraded the Mark Critical skill he got at Lvl 10 to Breath of a Sniper, increasing his uracy and force at long range.

    Even with only 5% system assist, a little went a long way.

    He didn''t want to lower the reality percentage anyway, because his future ns depended on the quality grades of loot he gained. Lower system assist = better loot.

    The more effort and resources put in, the better the reward. A Rends philosophy.

    The horse stumbled, pitching forward.

    Krow, untethered but for the stirrups, spilled over its head.

    Avan''s strangled shout of rm cut off in a groan as over a tonne of horseflesh rolled over them both.

    Krow struggled to breathe.

    <em>Stunned</em>, his status informed him.

    "Krow?" Avan tugged at his Travelcoat. "Krow, we need to go!"

    Finally sweet air made it into his lungs. He sucked a deep breath and heaved to get the leg of the horse off him.

    "Lost my guns," he coughed, pushing himself up.

    He heard Avan scramble away.

    His shoulder ached fiercely. There was blood on the ground. He hoped that was from the horse.

    "I could only find one," Avan returned, apologetic.

    "Don''t move!" a roar from nearby apanied several heavy running treads.

    Seriously?

    Who''d listen?

    Krow grabbed the revolver from Avan, snapped off three shots toward the voice.

    Two angry wordless yells sounded, as the translucent shield knocked the attackers back.

    Shkav. Where were his darkspears?

    His main gun was nowhere to be seen. Krow cursed in frustration, dragged the both of them behind one of the ubiquitous trees that dotted even the Tvard alleys.

    He looked a pale Avan over. There was blood on his temple. "Are you alright?"

    He sent several shieldbursts toward the bandits again. The narrow nature of the streets in this area only helped.

    "My ankle may be sprained. My left arm is definitely broken. Scratches for the rest."

    Krow blinked at the concise summary, but nodded and parceled out Low Heal and Revitalit vials for them both.

    His shoulder unclenched with silent relief as the potions did their job. His corbone must have snapped when he mmed into the ground.

    Avan, beside him, let out a long breath. "That poor horse!"

    The pale bone of its broken leg had shafted through flesh and skin, visible and bloody, yet the horse continued attempting to stand.

    Three arrows struck the animal, killing it.

    What.

    Krow turned to Avan. "Where are we?"

    He might just be biased. But in a fight, no real fighter would waste arrows like that. The soft heart of a yer raised on modern Earth, who couldn''t bear to see an animal suffering, however, was different.

    "That way," Avan answered practically. Krow was fine with that.

    What he wasn''t fine with, was how the other immediately darted in said direction without warning.

    "Wait--!"

    Toote.

    Krow shot shieldbursts to cover them, having no choice but to follow.

    The fattish prodigal ran so fast! At least he knew how to take advantage of the decorative hedges.

    The revolver cycled on empty.

    He snapped a clip of darkspears onto it, flipping the empty belt-cylinder into storage.

    He and Avan took cover in a recessed doorway.

    "That street." Avan pointed.

    Then the idiot again sped away.

    Weeping graves.

    "Could you warn me before you run!" He hollered at Avan''s back, shooting the visible bandits while trying to keep from the targeting sights of the archer.

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 17 bandit and gained four (4) silver serpens! 2/8]

    [You''ve eliminated a Lvl 21 bandit and gained five (5) silver serpens! 3/8]

    They pushed him back, a hail of arrows forcing him to retreat.

    He sped after Avan.

    An arrow whistled past, nicking his torso.

    Krow swerved right, ducked under a tree.

    <em>Where</em> was the sted archer?

    He spied movement on a far roof. Too far for his revolver.

    A Sharpshooter archer?!

    He broke cover and took off. A line of arrows immediately dogged his steps, tugged on his coat hem.

    Whoever the archer was, they were definitely higher leveled than Krow.

    The Multishot skill was a Lvl 30 choice.

    The bandits on foot took advantage of the reprieve from Krow''s bullets and charged.

    Krow sidled out of line of sight of the building the archer was on, and walked backward, shooting all the while.

    "We made it!" he heard Avan cry behind him.

    He snorted and turned to his protectee.

    "Still too soon to sa¡ª" He froze.

    Three red-cloaked Reeves stood behind him, surrounding a relief-stunned Avan. Krow hadn''t even detected them.

    The Reeves were Tvard''s royal guard, each and every one having the Wolf Warrior battless, each and every active Reeve at Lvl 45 and above.

    If this was to be a fight, he stood no chance.

    His eyes caught on the ck circle broach that held together the cloak of the vargvir standing at Avan''s side. He met the unreadable golden eyes. "Reeve-captain."

    The vargvir inclined his head.

    A scuffle on the stone above told him there were others. No doubt about it.

    This was an ambush.

    How long had they been watching?

    The captain''s ear flicked, the other telling him, ''I know you heard that, so no funny business.''

    "Krow, this is Elston!" Avan finally recovered from his dazed relief, and beamed. "He''s the head of Hadi''s guards!"

    "Ah." He holstered his gun, a show of neutrality.

    If they asked him to relinquish it, then no way. He already misced his main revolver; he wasn''t losing the second.

    "So," he continued, "you''re not actually a narcotics runner on the run from betraying your syndicate, escaping to a rival crime family in another city?"

    Several huffs ofughter sounded at that.

    Avan sputtered. "Why--who said that?"

    "Caravan gossip. The winning story was actually the one about you being a disgraced prince escaping your murderous highborn family to secretly meet your inappropriate lover."

    Moreughter that was just low enough to be mistaken for puffs of air. The vargvir behind Avan snickered audibly. The captain only bent a semi-amused ear.

    Avan scoffed. "By virtue of being chosen by me, she would never be inappropriate."

    "Who said the lover was female?"

    "Why would people think that!"

    "It''s the perfume."

    Krow snapped his mouth closed on what he was going to say and grinned at the Reeve who said that instead, the same one who snickered. "See?"

    "I like this scent! It''s very delicate."

    "Apart from the fact that you wear any scent at all, that doesn''t really help your case."

    The sh of weapons sounded nearby.

    The levity in the air dissipated.

 Chapter 127 - The Runaway (5 Of 5)

    Krow stepped toward the mouth of the alley, teasing smirk falling from his face.

    "Leave it¡­Krow, wasn''t it?" The Reeve-captain nced at him mildly.

    Krow contemted just going to join the battle anyway. Then reason reasserted itself and he relented.

    He''d just be a hindrance. Besides, letting others clean up a mess wasn''t a bad thing.

    "s Krow, correct."

    "Of no blood?"

    "Seeing as I''m the only one left, it''s doubtful you''ve heard of them anyway."

    "An odd thing to say, for draculkar. And a gunman as well."

    All yers were odd.

    Krow met the captain''s golden gaze. "An odd thing for a vargvir toment on."

    The captain huffed amusement.

    The sound of fighting had ceased already.

    No notification?

    Krow was disappointed. Either they missed a bandit or the questpletion rewards didn''t include him.

    They were Reeves. They definitely didn''t miss anyone.

    "Captain." A softly spoken word heralded the arrival of two more Reeves.

    The captain nodded in acknowledgement, then met Krow and Avan''s eyes, making no doubt who he was talking to. "This way."

    "Oh hey, you didn''t see a revolver somewhere nearby, did you?" Krow asked the two Reeves who''d just arrived.

    They looked at each other. The woman shrugged. The male spoke. "We don''t have it."

    "No? It looks like I''ll be checking the lost and foundter." That is to say, the information broker''s for data about the nearest pawnshop that didn''t require proof of ownership.

    The vargvir woman''s ear twisted in curiosity, but she didn''tment.

    Surrounded by elites and with no way out, Krow took the time to appreciate the surroundings. To his surprise, he recognized the building the Reeve-captain was leading them into.

    "This is¡­ the Amalfi Theatre?"

    Avan lit up. "You have heard of it!"

    "I have."

    The Amalfi was a prestigious yhouse in Tvard, built by a vargvir noble of the same name. He did one quest here, as a Swordsbearer. It was one of thest before the Quake.

    The job was to clear out the giant spiders in the deep basement levels. One of the theatre director''s projects to provide the theatre with silken props went massively awry. Massively.

    Selling the silk had fed him well for a week, all those years ago.

    Krow had no time to reminisce more as they were ushered out of what he was certain was a mistress entrance and into a private room that hid almost ostentatious wealth under inness.

    The rough leather of the seats was seedblue buffalo hide. He''d worked a lot with it in another life. The table, he was pretty sure was dragoneye teak. The cups on the table had the faint orange sheen of bones from high-level fire-natured monsters. The curtains were seaspider silk, undyed to leave the natural gold and green coloring.

    All of those things were armor-grade, weapons-grade.

    To use them to decorate a room¡­

    It was extravagance.

    "This is one of the theatre''s elite private boxes," murmured the Reeve behind him. "You can use the bathroom this way."

    He nced at Avan, who wasining to the captain about being chased all the way to Tvard. Did that mean there was a bathroom another way?

    Krow followed his guide. "How many bathrooms does a theatre box need?"

    "You''d be surprised."

    Themp oil in the corridors exuded a faint refreshing fragrance. ¡­ckmint oil?

    That was one of the ingredients for Revitalit potions.

    He wouldn''t be surprised if the theatre box had a whole apartment suite.

    Sight of the bathroom the Reeve waved him through made him pause.

    He''d only seen this style of bath in film media set during his grandparents'' generation. Old school, all tile and metal, with too many knobs and levers. No electronics at all.

    Nice.

    He dropped his clothes in a hamper, arranged his revolver and knives on the vanity, and entered the old-school shower. The frosted ss was etched with abstract shapes.

    Fifteen minutester, he found that his clothes had been cleaned and dried.

    Efficient service.

    He dressed and exited the bathroom to find that his guide was waiting. He stopped in surprise, then realized. Oh. Avan''s friend was a person who was guarded by Reeves¡­

    Of course Krow wouldn''t be left alone. Why, he might be a ckguard, a cad, a good for nothing rogue.

    "This way."

    He was returned to the first room.

    The vargvir in streetmon vest and loose trousers rose to greet him. "You must be Krow."

    "And you are Hadi." He''d never seen the Primar of Tvard, or any of the city''s ruling family, so Krow couldn''t be certain.

    The vargvir smiled, pleased. "Haradios."

    "s Krow."

    "There is a ying on, called ''Flowers for Owls''. Will you be staying?"

    "To say goodbye to Avan, yes."

    He was waved to an armchair, and the drapes that fell to cover one whole side of the room opened to reveal the massive theatre.

    From the workers bragging in another life, he knew the Amalfi could seat ten thousand.

    From what Krow could see, the house was packed, though it was barely after noon.

    It must be noisy in the seats below. The sounds didn''t reach them in the high box though.

    The stage lit up.

    A program and a set of weird sses were pressed into his hands.

    [Amalfi Theatre Spectacrs]

    [Quality: B][Umon]

    [All the better to see the stage. A pair of spectacr eyewear from the Amalfi theatre.]

    It was branded?

    Krow was amused.

    He put them on. The staged jumped at him, erged until it appeared like it was right before him.

    The curtain opened.

    A sharp swishing sound, and the ring of a de. Blood spattered.

    Eh?

    A corpse rose from a grave, and started to sing. More blood spread.

    Krow took off the theatre sses, bemused. The sound of the stage cut out.

    He peered at the stage.

    Yeah, even from this distance, the crimson sshes on the set were evident.

    It wasn''t the sses being defective.

    He nced at the program. ''Flowers for Owls'' was the first of three ys the Amalfi had scheduled for the day.

    ''A tale of blood and longing'' it introduced.

    "Huh."

    He peered through the sses again.

    Gore exploded on stage. Oh, whoa. There was definitely blood.

    Norge, what the hell.

    "Not an enthusiast?" Hadi had his eyes trained on the y.

    He had been. People didn''t like watching movies at his ce for a reason. "I was."

    "Not anymore?"

    "It''s not the same." Not after seeing the aftermath of actual battles.

    "Old memories now?"

    "The best."

    "Hm."

    They fell silent, mutually focusing their attention to the stage.

    Krow put the sses back on and let himself imagine simpler times.

    On stage, the protagonist, feathers fluttering in his hair, sang about yearning for something he couldn''t exin while searching for the perfect flower to put on the grave of his owl and murdering those who gave or suggested subpar flowers.

    He met a clever florist, who stalled his murderous impulses by telling him stories based on flowers, in the style of Scheherazade.

    They realized a deep connection, but their growing closer was interrupted by the authorities searching for the serial killer main character, who realized he couldn''t stop, can never stop, and triggered a grand pursuit scene ending in him jumping to his death, arms out and flying.

    The florist buried him, sang a song wondering what flower would encapste the totality of the experience, to honor the memory of the main character. The curtain closed as the florist caught a falling feather, lips still open from thest note.

    It was a simple story.

    No plot surprises, full of tropes, the music was mediocre. It could be better.

    But there was something about it that made Krow want to give up another hour to rewatch the whole thing.

    Something more than the subtly-hidden socialmentary the actors made with pretty patterns of blood and gore. That was hrious; he''d only caught it after one of the actors sprayed blood in a pattern that briefly made an abstract emoji in the air before sshing against various surfaces.

    Krow made a note to save the record.

    "Hadi! How do I look?" Avan burst into the room, freshly washed and changed into an even more mboyant outfit. The Darkfall Cape was slung over one shoulder. "Do you have any jasperwine left? I''ve been beset by troubles. Oh! Krow, you''ve met Hadi?"

    "We''ve introduced ourselves." Krow flipped the program into his Inventory as he stood. "And then we watched a stagey."

    Avan grabbed a program. He beamed. "''Tartuff'' is up next! Phenomenal, we can¡ª"

    "The director has allowed my request," Hadi interrupted idly. "The next y is ''Ambergris and Celia''."

    Avan grimaced. "I hate that y."

    "Yes. I, on the other hand, hate that you are constantly reckless with your safety."

    Avan huffed. "I know what I''m doing."

    "You just told Elston you were beset by bandits!"

    "That was not my fault!"

    A hand offered Krow a cup. He eyed it, then the Reeve-captain, who nodded at the two men arguing like five year olds. "They were friends as children."

    "Are you sure they stopped being children?"

    "I heard that!" yelled Hadi over his shoulder.

    "st your vargvir ears," Krow called back.

    "What, what did he say?" Avan eyed them suspiciously.

    "He said you were a child." Hadi smirked.

    "I said you were both children."

    "Hah! Who''s the child now!" Avan snorted at Hadi.

    Hadi ignored him and turned to Krow. "I must thank you for bringing him safely here."

    "Don''t ignore me!"

    Krow took the cup from the Reeve-captain with a nod of thanks and tossed back the cloudy liquid inside. It was some kind of juice, cool with a slight bite of fermentation. Jasperwine?

    "It was my duty. I''d love to stay awhile, but I still have to find a ship."

    The tides should be favorable. Ebry said a lot of ships dispatched from Tvard at night.

    He had several hours to find passage on one to the city of Galbrane.

    "You''re leaving the city? But there''s so much I want to show you." Avan came up beside Hadi.

    "I have a meeting in Galbrane that couldn''t be missed." The tigercat quest was a moonset quest, and only triggered whenever Orveterne, the second moon, was full. That was in six days.

    The journey from Tvard to Galbrane took three days on a fast ship, five days on average.

    "Will your business there take long?"

    "A few weeks." Should he visit Duryndon Gate-city while he was in the area? Hm. He''d see how the Tigercat and storage item quests did first.

    "You seem to be someone with potential, my Reeves tell me." Hadi arranged himself on afortable chair.

    Avan poured himself a cup of the wine, leaning on his friend''s chair.

    "Are you familiar with Levian Fortress?"

    Krow choked on his drink.

    "You have heard of it, I see. It happens that bandits are increasing in the area. They are in increasing need of soldiers. A captain''smission, what do you say?"

    Krow opened his mouth, closed it. He could almost feel the blood leaving his face.

    Levian Fortress.

    What a name.

    It had thundered through the gossip of the yerbase, even months and years after it was over.

    The first Legendary quest to be cleared.

    And he was about to decline it.

 Chapter 128 - The Enchanters Library (1)

    The Levian Fortress quest took three realworld months toplete, and it wasn''t upgraded to Legendary until the Bandit Court was found in theter stages.

    Three months in the Fortress would likely up his level to the 50s. The 60s if he got good quest rewards. All the yers got awarded knighthoods, raising them to the noble ss. Not to mention the gold, armor, and weapon rewards for the continuing defense of the Fortress.

    The loot for three continuing months of bandit attacks? Immense.

    How in the world did Krow rate a quest that would be a Legendary?

    He didn''t have RP in Tvard.

    The challenge badges came to mind. Oh right.

    He did have both continental and world RP from the challenge badges. He checked his profile. A hundred points each. He also had a few points of RP with the Guinsant Alliance.

    All of those affected the city-state of Tvard.

    Krow took a breath.

    The rewards for a Legendary would dwarf anything he could do in the next three months.

    But three months in Levian Fortress would unravel everything he''d worked at since he entered Rends. For one, he wouldn''t be able to make the Gauntlet if he participated in the defense of Levian Fortress.

    He wasn''t ying to win Rends, he reminded himself. He was ying for Zushkenar.

    If he transmigrated to Zushkenar again, having fought for Levian Fortress¡­.

    Haha, he wouldn''t survive the social bacsh. If he remembered correctly, the Bandit Court had ties to various draculkar nobles. And Levian Fortress was a vargvir stronghold.

    There was no way to participate in secret.

    But shkav.

    It was tempting.

    "I am sorry." Krow heard himself say, as if from a long distance. "I have already undertaken a quest that would take months to prepare for."

    Even as he said it, each word drew blood from the part of himself that wanted to win at everything, the part of him that would have loved being a warmaster, would have loved Rends.

    It really was too bad.

    "A quest?"

    "The Blood Gauntlet."

    "You are nobility?" Avan asked, surprised.

    "Of noble descent," he corrected. "Not true nobility until the tests are passed."

    "To earn nobility," Hadi smiled at him. "A rather vargviran sentiment, would you say?"

    Fighting words, if Krow was actually a draculkar.

    "Perhaps draculkar and vargvir aren''t as different as people think they are," he returned, escting.

    The vargvir guffawed, pped Krow on the shoulder. "Just for that, instead of a city key, I''ll give you three boons. What is it you want?"

    "Really?" Avanined. "You never let me do anything, and you''re giving boons now?"

    "The third y is ''Rochenfort''."

    "Obviously it''s ''Canellea and the Cat''!"

    "Possibly not anymore."

    Avan raised his hands in surrender.

    Krow ignored their bickering, thinking. Three boons was better than a city key, certainly, but against legendary rewards, the constion prize really was too little.

    Hadi turned to him, expression expectant.

    "Five books from the Enchanter''s Library, two horses to rece the ones from the caravan, and¡­passage on a fast ship to Galbrane tonight."

    "No book is allowed to leave the Library."

    "Ten copies then."

    "Nothing else?"

    Wasn''t that already three?

    Well, since he was being asked anyway. "A rmendation to a shop where I can replenish my bullets."

    Hadi studied him contemtively. "You must know I have high influence in the city. You only want this?"

    In truth, considering the sentiment against draculkar in Tvard, having a local royal smooth the way would already be wondrous help.

    In any case, it was best not to be too greedy.

    Copies from the Tvard Enchanter''s Library? That was something that only master enchanters with high RP could request.

    He was still expecting Hadi to bargain the number of books.

    "I only want this," he confirmed.

    "Hm. Agreed."

    What, really?

    He was grateful this was Rends. It would have never happened in Zushkenar.

    "Let me write you several introductions." Hadi moved to a small writing table, pulling out parchment and ink.

    Avan sighed, shook his head at Krow.

    What?

    "You could''ve asked for more, you know. A fortune in jewels! Enchanted artifacts! A vi in the city! You could visit and see more of Tvard."

    "It is really magnificent, the city," Krow sighed.

    Avan patted him on the shoulder. "I miss Baraldore whenever I leave too! It''s natural to feel the same for Velkenbragg."

    "I''ve never been there, actually."

    "You''ve never--!" Avan stared, consternation all over his face.

    "Not a single one of the sky cities," Krow added, inwardly smirking at the other''s disbelieving shock.

    "It must be the reason you''re more tolerable than most of your ilk." Hadi muttered.

    "Not really." He watched as thest parchment was stamped.

    Hadi waved over two of the Reeves and handed them rolls of sealed parchment, with quietly murmured orders. The first Reeve left.

    "This is Marses," the vargvir introduced the second Reeve to Krow. "He''ll apany you for the afternoon."

    "That''s not necessary." He had to check the local pawnshops for his main gun, and he wasn''t doing that with a Reeve at his back. The information sellers wouldn''t tell him anything.

    "I insist. You might not be able to enter the library without visible escort."

    Krow had no choice but to thank the vargvir.

    Avan grabbed his shoulders. "We must meet again!"

    Uh, no.

    He only stayed to say goodbye because the guy looked like the type of person who''d hunt him down andin excessively if Krow left without a word.

    "Fate is mysterious," he nodded solemnly. "There is every chance."

    "We''ll definitely meet again!"

    Don''t curse his future, oy. "Until then, fare well."

    The doors to the private box closed behind Krow.

    [You''ve escorted Avan Frend Grayesand to Haradios, Primar of Tvard, sessfully, gaining three boons from the Primar and +25 Reputation Points with Tvard City!]

    So he <em>was</em> the Primar. Mystery cleared.

    "The stables are this way," Marses gained his attention.

    "Have you been in the Reeves long?"

    "Three years."

    Krow assessed the vargvir. With the gray at the tips of his ears, he thought the Reeve was a veteran member. "A lower number than I thought."

    "Nepotism."

    Krow huffed hisughter. "Your nephew must be powerful."

    The vargvir smirked at him, a hint of fang at the edges.

    Making small talk, they rode leisurely through the streets.

    The Enchanter''s Library stood over an entire district in the third circle of the city. The streets were full of workshops, as every kind of crafter used enchanted materials.

    Krow really wanted a whole day to explore the warren of streets in the Tvard enchanter''s quarter, but he''dmitted to leaving tonight.

    The library was massive, the smell of old parchment and ink permeating everything.

    The tables in the outer library were filled with people discussing and arguing over various books and documents.

    Marses strode past tables, lecture rooms, and gardens. They passed two Shrines of Knowledge, with a raft of people who seemed to be exchanging skills.

    Krow craned his neck to see them all, a curious sightseer.

    He''d never been inside the Enchanter''s Library before, though he''d seen it many times from the outside.

    Marses osted a librarian directed a raft of lower-ranked library workers and handed her the missive. She blinked at the seal, then flicked it open with one hand, as her other arm was upied by a tower of books and paperwork.

    Librarian was actually a main craftss.

    Krow wouldn''t underestimate anyone with the title. He''d heard stories.

    The librarian blinked at the letter in her hand, peered dubiously at Krow, then contemted the Reeve at his back.

    "If you are too busy, of course, I don''t mind the assistance of one of your subordinates," Krow smiled charmingly. "A library of such grandness, you must have many responsibilities."

    "No." The librarian''s face fell into neutral lines. She waved at several people, dumped her load into their arms. "It is an honor of course, to serve the Primar."

    She folded the missive absently into her sleeve. "Come. My office is here."

    She led them into her study, and waved them to chairs. Marses took a post behind Krow''s seat.

    "What books did you have in mind?"

    Krow had no clue. "What would you rmend for a beginner enchanter?"

    "For¡­beginners."

    "Your most rmended introductory texts."

    She stared at him fixedly for a long moment. "Of course."

    She flipped open a gold-bound book hanging from her belt, made a few passes with a stylus.

    A library catalogue of some sort?

    Krow could see a list form from where he was sitting.

    "Forprehensive study, I rmend the two works of Darios Benin, and of course Giberon''s Principles of Enchanting. The supplementary texts ''The Enchanting Tree'' by Aldos Harmerant and ''The Comption of Material Enchancement'' by Kavronal are the most celebrated by schrs. There are several others I could name, but they are recent works which do not have the breadth and in-depth schrship of the ones already mentioned."

    Krow was half-certain she was hiding something.

    But really, with the Enchanter''s Grimoire, all he needed were books of high grade.

    She flipped her stylus, stamped the butt-end down.

    Five books appeared on the shelf beside her.

    Whoa.

    Every one of them was thicker than the width of his palm, wider than his forearm.

    Good thing he didn''t have to read them.

    The librarian smiled at him. Was that a hint of a smirk he saw? "Between the five, the entirety of the foundation of Enchanting is covered."

    "Excellent." Krow beamed at her. "What would you rmend for an advanced enchanter?"

    "The very same five books, of course. Enchanting is a lifelong cycle that returns again and again to basic principles."

    "As a true learned schr would say," he agreed. "Then what five books are the most sought after in the Library?"

    Her face froze for a second, briefly aghast, before it returned to neutrality. "You want to¡­copy those books?"

 Chapter 129 - The Enchanters Library (2)

    Krow leaned back in his chair, making himselffortable. "I heard that only learned masters entered the Tvard Library."

    "Yes." For the first time, a hint of disdain in her tone.

    Oho.

    Krow widened his eyes innocently, smiling all the while. "As a schr, do you not agree that great people would read great books? Since the books are popr with such masters, they must be tomes of great learning and knowledge. How could I, a lowly student, not want tomes with such great rmendation?"

    She couldn''t refute. Krow could see her trying.

    Finally she grit out, "Those books are not for outsiders."

    "I understand," Krow nodded solemnly. "I will not insist on books that are restricted by royalw or contain the secrets inherent to the vargvir race. Otherwise¡­"

    She stood, hand pping on the desk, eyes burning a hole in him. "If¡ª"

    A soft cough from behind Krow, and her eyes fixed on the red of the Reeve''s cloak.

    She straightened, tugged at her sleeves topose herself. "Very well. Your copies will be ready in ten minutes. Feel free to wait here."

    She stalked off, her fa?ade ice cold.

    Krow gave an audible sigh.

    "I can nevere back in the future," he griped under his breath. "She''s going to ban me from the ce."

    "Short-sighted of you," agreed the Reeve. "Do you have a great need of enchanter''s tomes?"

    "Not as such, but I doubt I''ll be returning soon. Getting the good books while backed by a royal is only efficient. I''m hopeful she''ll forget I exist."

    "A draculkar entering this Library with the seal of the Primar?"

    "¡­definitely banned."

    It wasn''t his fault he was unforgettable!

    In any case, it wasn''t like Tvard had the only enchanter''s library in Rends. It was just the biggest and most prestigious.

    "Then the only way is to get good enough that the Library would be forced to invite you to speak in the Lecture Halls."

    Krow snorted augh. "Your mockery is noted."

    Only grandmasters had that kind of cachet.

    "You realize that while those introductory texts are prestigious and rmended, they are not as readable as the more recent schrly works?"

    Krow turned to grin at Marses. "Worried for me? Don''t scuff your vargvir cred. I''m fine with these books."

    In fact, the more prestigious, the better. Greater prestige meant a higher rarity, right?

    "I have no idea what you just said."

    He chuckled, rxed in his chair.

    In fact, any book on Enchantment would do to kickstart the Enchanter''s Grimoire. He asked for beginner tomes because he didn''t know any high-grade book titles.

    It wasn''t a bad idea to start at the beginning.

    Enchanting recipes and rituals were scattered code between various enchanting books. He had to feed those books to the Grimoire and let it regurgitate the recipes.

    That was as much as he knew about Enchanting at this point.

    He assumed that the better the grade of the books, the better the recipes.

    To be able to consume books from the prestigious Tvard Library, his Grimoire should gain a nice passel of recipes, right?

    The librarian returned, a worker with a wheeled cart behind her.

    "Ten books," she said briskly. "as you wished."

    "Thank you." Krow bent over the first one, the thickest. "''Tales of Enchanters''?"

    "A children''s book," Marsesmented. "Myths and legends."

    "It is also the third most popr tome in the library." The librarian had the grace not to appear smug, but her tone was too neutral to be real.

    "The lecture halls often invite children," the Reeve exined.

    They started their enchanters young, Krow supposed.

    "I''ll take it." He didn''t need the content. He just needed them to be enchanter''s books.

    [Tales of Enchanters]

    [Quality: C][Umon]

    [A certified copy of a book from the Tvard Enchanter''s Library.]

    Good enough.

    Krow ran a finger across the spines of the second pile of books.

    ''The Meditations of Albanchad'' was graded C Rare.

    ''Enchantment Through the Millenia'', C Umon.

    ''Guilevord''s Journal'', C Umon.

    ''The Travels of Zarad'', C Rare.

    All the beginner books were C Umon.

    Were they graded C because they weren''t the originals?

    Krow lifted the cover of ''The Travels of Zarad'' to see that it had been written a bit over a thousand years ago.

    Huh.

    Would the originals even exist, still?

    He flipped them all into his inventory and shone sincerity at the librarian. "I am grateful for your assistance. Visiting an institution like the Tvard Library has been an unforgettable experience."

    "Certainly. I hope the books will be of great help to you."

    He let a smile spread over his face, entirely genuine. "I know they will."

    She smiled back perfunctorily and they made polite goodbyes.

    He and Marses walked back through the inner hall to the outer half of the library. The inner halls were quieter, the air more rarified.

    The outer hall greeted them with a constant buzz of conversation, like white noise in the background.

    But then one voice rose above the rest.

    "You''ve caught him! Praise Kombar you were here, Reeve!"

    Krow turned.

    A vargvir rushed at them from a side wing. He was robed in a fashion and color forty years too young for his age, a jeweled cane sped in one hand.

    "Librarian, it''s him, the thief!" The vargvir pointed in their direction.

    Him?

    Krow nced around.

    Oh. It was indeed him.

    A librarian stepped forward, a slight frown on his face. "Sir, may we ask a few questions?"

    Convicted, just like that.

    Krow smiled though, inclined his head. "As long as you don''t mind me asking a few questions of my own."

    "Insolent! Why would we allow that, thief?"

    "For example, could you describe this thief to me?"

    "You''re standing right there! Why would I need to describe anything?"

    "Who knows?" He shrugged, tone blithe. "Maybe it wasn''t me at all."

    "I already said it was you!" The vargvir spread his arms, addressed the gathering spectators. "Would you doubt my word against this draculkar intruder?"

    The people began to murmur.

    Krow kept a light smile on his face. "What a beautiful day is today; there are many interesting people in the world! Is itmon to meet a stranger and call him thief immediately?"

    "You know very well what you did! I saw you with these eyes, don''t deny it!"

    "I wouldn''t know what I''d be denying anyway."

    "So brave, draculkar, to keep up a front even with a Reeve to hear. You can''t fool me! You draculkar have always wanted our Enchanter knowledge! How bold to walk into the Library itself. Hah, you cannot escape!"

    What?

    What drama was this guy creating in his head?

 Chapter 130 - The Enchanters Library (3)

    Krow countered. "When was this?"

    "What?"

    "This theft that urred. What hour and what minute precisely? Was it recent? Today, this morning? Was itst night? Was it yesterday?"

    The vargvir wavered for a second, but firmed. "Still trying to talk your way out? You draculkar have amazing reason ¨C all you do is talk."

    "And yet, not a single one of the pertinent questions have been answered. Isn''t that what researchers do ¨C answer questions?"

    The vargvir''s face reddened, his eyes bulged in outrage. "Who do you think you are!?"

    A librarian intervened. "Let us not let hot heads prevail over reason. Master enchanter, will you tell us what you saw?"

    Yes, tell what you saw so Krow could once and for all shove the silent Reeve at his side as an alibi.

    "I saw this masked snake-born worm in the Circle Hall!"

    Gasps sounded.

    Krow lifted a brow. The what now?

    The vargvir nodded, indignant and smug at the same time. "He''s taken the Book of Maron!"

    With the outcry that burst out at that statement, the book was that greatly important?

    Krow waited patiently for the majority of the noise to die down.

    In a lull between the loud gossiping, he dropped a question.

    "What is this Book of Maron?"

    Anothermotion sounded.

    Oy, they were in a library, you know¡­

    "You dare y the innocent?!"

    Krow pressed his lips together. That was bing irritating. How long was the bastard going to spit proofless usations like it was a contest, instead of answering his questions?

    He grit his teeth, forced his jaw to rx and calmly returned fire with another question.

    "When did this Book disappear?"

    He saw the librarians looking at each other in rm. They didn''t know either?

    Krow eyed the using vargvir more carefully.

    There was sweat on the other''s brow. The hands, meticulously pared ws gleaming with some sort of polish, keptpulsively tightening his grip on his cane. And most damning, his eyes kept darting every now and then to the exit.

    It was a scam.

    Well, obviously Krow knew the thief wasn''t him. Could prove it, even. But he thought the vargvir had a case of mistaken identity, not that the other had deliberately chosen to target him.

    The user snorted at Krow''s question. "You likely still have it on you!"

    Again, a question unanswered.

    His lips twisted, letting a hint of the irritation he felt on his face.

    Before he could speak though, Marses lost his patience as well. "The person you are using is a guest of the Primar."

    Krow didn''t begrudge the Reeve the decision to stay silent until now. It wasn''t the Reeve''s job to defend him, after all.

    But what a relief. This sudden drama that came out of nowhere could finally end.

    The other party didn''t agree.

    "A likely story," the vargvir yelled, jabbing his cane disdainfully at Krow. "You ckguard, to even suborn a Reeve?!"

    Unlike earlier instances of noisy reaction, the crowd suddenly fell quiet, only hushed voices apparent.

    Uh?

    Krow stilled, alert.

    But then he realized from hearing snippets of quickly scandalously whispered conversation, it was the using vargvir who had said something he shouldn''t have and shocked the hall to silence.

    The vargvir seemed to know what he''d done, because he rapidly paled. He opened his mouth.

    He didn''t get the chance to speak.

    "The enmity between our races is ancient. Twisted with glory and vengeance, blood and grudges, a constant litany of mutual pain." Marses''s voice was quiet, yet it rang in the growing hush. It carried to others at further tables, who lifted their heads at the attention-grabbing cadence of the Reeve''s words.

    "And yet, for the peace to be gained, for the children to grow up unafraid of death and loss, the leaders of our two nations havee together, again and again since ancient times. It has been a hundred years without outright war between our peoples, and that is the glory and honor of vargvir and draculkar both. A hundred years without war, and that is why I know you have not held weapons against the draculkar. Nor have your parents. Nor have your children, your siblings, your niblings. A hundred years without war, and that is why I know you have not breathed the blood of the woond. You have not taken the des of those who have fallen at your side and held them, even in your teeth, to quell the howling of yourrades'' lingering spirits. A hundred years without war, and that is why I know that it is not the raging grief of old battle that has caused you to lose yourself."

    Marses stared the other vargvir down. "To have so little control over one''s wolfblood that you insult your own people ¨C is this Kombar''s pride, the honor we hold in ourselves?"

    The silence lingered on the question, and even those newly entering the hall were taken into the hush.

    A long silence, in which the other vargvir opened and closed his mouth, like a fish taken out of water. He caught himself, and his lips trembled once as his eyes sparked a re.

    "You brutes raised on blood and fed the glories of obsolete war, dare talk of civilized conduct and peace? You know nothing." He turned on his heel and made for the main library doors, head held high.

    Well.

    Obviously he hadn''t been listening.

    "How did you know the Book was gone?" Krow ripped the silence in half. He lifted his hands at the looks from all around. "He never said. Just curious."

    The vargvir was still, a rigid figure, half turning back toward them.

    Marses frowned, shifted.

    The using vargvir broke into a sprint.

    Before anyone could even exim in surprise, Marses shot past, pursuing.

    Krow closed his mouth on the next question he''d been about to ask, now going unvoiced. It wasn''t like any of his questions were answered anyway.

    He stayed silent for a moment, listening. The mboyant user was being pilloried in public opinion.

    You''d think someone from a race like the vargvir would know better than to run.

    Apparently there were idiots everywhere.

    He side-eyed the librarians, who were having a semi-intense conversation. One of them growled, and the other threw up her hands.

    "So again," he caught their attention. "What is the Book of Maron?"

 Chapter 131 - The Enchanters Library (4)

    "It is a Grimoire." An elderly voice answered. "One of the oldest in the Library."

    "Head!" cried the librarians, moving quickly toward the old vargvir.

    The oldest of them held out his hands palm up. "Master Olvier, we apologize for not containing the disturbance."

    The head of the Library chuckled. "It''s good to have amotion once in a while. Keeps us on our toes."

    Say what?

    Something just got stolen from the Library and the leader''s reaction is ''it''s good once in a while''? Krow inwardly questioned how the Library survived so long.

    The elderly head of the Library had shorter, smaller ears than most vargvir, a telling sign that his ancestry wasn''t purely of the race. The green eyes were another indicator. Pure vargvirmonly had irises in shades of red, brown, and blue.

    Those eyes set on Krow. "It''s been some time since we had to offer books to one not already inducted into membership. You wish to be an Enchanter, do you?"

    "I will be an Enchanter."

    It wasn''t a wish. It was a certainty.

    Master Olvier, as the librarians called him, chuffed. "It''s a good thing for the young to be so confident of the way forward. But I see you have not used an Enchanter''s Forge before?"

    What, that can be seen?

    The perception of high-leveled people was really scary.

    Oh wait, this was still Rends¡­his personal game data was under scrutiny by NPC AIs in order to facilitate greater immersion.

    "Come,e, all of you young ones. I''ll show you something good. You too, young draculkar." Master Olvier''s walking stick rapped sharply on the floor, a firm rhythm as he walked toward the side wing.

    Krow nced at the exit.

    "We will tell the Reeve where you are," said one of the librarians. She pressed fingers to her forehead. "I apologize for the earlier assumption."

    Krow returned the gesture, smiled briefly, then trotted after the group of¡­librarian recruits? Future enchanters? Student tour?

    Whichever.

    The head of the Library led them to arge circr stone room, maybe fifty meters in diameter. The pedestals, shelves and cabs of the space were filled with books in individual crystal cases.

    "This is the Circle Hall, where some of our most valuable texts can be essed. You could buy a small town with the worth of the least of them." A small smile touched his lips. "What can you tell me about the room?"

    The six students nced at each other. Krow looked around the room. "You must have a lot of attempts at thievery."

    There were snorts from a couple of the students and the head chuffed amusement. "We do."

    Krow wasn''t surprised. There was no indication of security around the ce, simply a refreshingly airy room and several hundred books collectively worth more than a small country.

    "It''s¡­a ritual?" One of the students was peering at the floor, where the tiles were arranged in strange patterns, different shapes and sizes.

    Krow looked down, then at the visible walls. The patterns were actually familiar.

    He took a breath. "It''s a Forge."

    A massive Forge.

    The room presented itself before his eyes in a new light. What did they need sorge a Forge for? The room was big enough to enchant a house, and the magic needed¡­a single person couldn''t provide it.

    "A Forge!" A student breathed out the word in awe. The others looked around excitedly.

    Master Olvierughed. "Amazing, eh? It is not a working Forge, of course, but the power contained in the stones of the room is still significant."

    He moved to the stone table in the center of the room. "People know that we have ways of recalling lost books. This is one of them. Come, children."

    Krow would disagree about the children part, but he was too curious.

    The vargvir directed them to ce their hands on particr circles on the table. Eight people, equidistant from each other.

    "Now concentrate. Imbue the table with your magic." The elderly vargvir ced his palm on the table as well, then closed his eyes. "You are learning something like it in school, at your age, hm?"

    Krow did the same. Imbuing magic into items was not something he was unfamiliar with. Some leather curing solutions needed magic-imbued gemstones. But this, he could feel the other seven. Weird.

    No sooner than all eight connected to the table, then something activated and with a whoosh and a flutter of pages, a book appeared in the center of the table.

    Krow''s appraisal triggered as he narrowed his eyes.

    [The Book of Maron (iplete)]

    [Quality: B][Unique]

    A small explosion sounded, and pages flew every which way.

    "Kah!"

    "Oh no!"

    "What''s happening?"

    "Did we do something wrong?"

    "Oh dear," Olvier chuckled. "They do this so often. Do they not learn?"

    About a third of the pages of the book had been sliced out and now swirled all over the room like a flock of paper birds.

    If Krow had to guess, he''d say the thieves had attempted to get around the recalling function. They failed.

    Krow reached out to catch a page gently floating down.

    Diagrams covered it, with writing in a small cramped hand.

    [You''ve found a page of the Book of Maron!]

    [Copying this page requires a copying medium of at least A Common.]

    Krow fought not to immediately bring out his Scribe''s stylus.

    The smirk he felt only manifested as a brief lifting of a corner of his mouth.

    All the paperwork he helped with for the Forester Lodge in Cerkanst, then the attached butcher shop once his two apprentices made wright-rank, all pushed his Scribe subss to First Apprentice, gaining him the skills Copyist and Notary.

    This was his first time to see the Copyist skill activate.

    The copying medium was no problem. He had several nk journals with him graded D Umon.

    He''d needed at least that much to port documents from his realworldputer into Rends. It was how he left his former apprentices with a journal filled with Earth-based meat-curing techniques and tips so they could handle the butcher shop.

    "Help me gather the pages, hm, children? Afterward, I''ll give you all a treat. The one with the most pages gets two treats. You have until you hear the bell."

    As if the elderly vargvir couldn''t gather the pages with a single word?

    Krow nced at the head of the library, suspicious.

    Olvier only smiled genially at him. "Go on."

    Krow could''ve resented being lumped in with teenagers. But this was an opportunity to copy at least a few pages of a Unique tome. And if the old vargvir was watching them, well, as long as he wasn''t stopped, he''d take it as permission.

    He stepped into the careful arrangement of shelves.

    When he got to a suitably secluded ce, he took a journal and his scribe''s stylus. He opened the journal and pressed one of the loose pages to it.

    He tapped the stylus and the page¡­

    Bloomed into a puzzle?

    Unexpected.

    It was a pictorial logic game.

    Krow shed a line through the picture with his stylus, solving the problem.

    [You''ve copied page 312 of the Book of Maron!]

    He''d recovered and copied ten pages when he realized it was taking too long to find them. So he called out the spirit-snake and sent it through the stacks.

    "Eeee! Snake! There''s a snake!"

    Ah, oops.

    He mentally adjusted the spirit-snake''s form to be less corporeal, then toggled up the local Map and started hunting down the targets.

    Thirty minutes of stalking up and down shelves and curio cabs, the bell sounded.

    Tsk.

    If he didn''t have to do the puzzles for every page, he''d have gotten more.

    "Let''s see what everyone has, then?" Olvier waved a hand, and the pages of the Book flew from the seven page-hunters, arranging themselves into neat stacks on the table.

    He knew it.

    A few pages fluttered down,ing from various ces in the room. "Looks like not all of them were found. Let''s count them, shall we?"

    Krow leaned against a shelf.

    "The highest count is you¡­re, yes, at 51 pages. And the young draculkar¡­"

    "Krow."

    "Krow, at 45 pages. The third is you¡­Grenvel at 27. All the rest got counts less than 20."

    "re, how did you search?"

    "Sympathic Detection Spell, Master Olvier."

    "Ah, a tracking spell! An excellent choice of spell to learn. And you, Krow?"

    Krow brought out the spirit-snake without a word.

    "It was you?!" A vargvir girl pointed at him, indignant.

    Krow eyed the finger jabbed at him, bemuse.

    Oh. Someone had screamed earlier, hadn''t they. "Did it startle you? I''m sorry."

    She inhaled a breath, but then eyed the snake coiled around Krow and deted. "Sure, whatever. Just scared a year off my life, that''s all. I have more years in storage, don''t worry."

    She paused, then finally gave in to her curiosity, eyes shining. "Can I touch it? Can it be touched? It''s a ghost snake?"

    Olvier chuckled. "A ghost-caller, are you?"

    Krow nodded.

    "An excellent set of skills." Olvier praised.

    Then the elderly head librarian arranged the pages into a sheaf with a twist of fingers, then shuffled them into the book.

    "The use of a Forge differs from that of a smith, who channels power through the hammer and tongs. An enchanter imbues power into the Forge itself. Sess depends on your focus, the quality of your catalysts which is in this case a secret, and the quality of your magic energy."

    The stone table at the center of the room glowed, and the Book of Maron was whole once more.

    He took it and returned it to an empty crystal container, smiled at them all. "But you are not so interested, most of you, hm? Come, ask young Krow questions. Learn."

    Krow sighed, slithered the spirit-snake closer to the students. "I only know the basics, but it''s great for scouting and exploration. You can touch it. It has the ability to be semi-corporeal."

    The six younger people in the room took the opportunity to study the spirit-snake, crowding around it. "A Tree-gliding Snake? Did you choose the form?"

    "I didn''t choose. The ghost-stone used to call this spirit-snake into existence is made from the Bones of the Tree-gliding Snake."

    "Can it be learned?"

    "You might want to ask your parents, young ones," Olvier interjected. "Ghost-callers are often attached to the Temples of Takrul and Bothadin."

    "The death gods?"

    At that, they looked at Krow, curious and rmed.

    "I''m not attached to either deities. But I bought my ghost-stones from a Bothadin Temple."

    "You have more than one?"

    Krow called the spirit-bird, letting it settle on the table. "A Hagon Sparrowhawk."

    "One of the fastest flying monsters in Marfall!"

    "Just the two?"

    "There''s also a Rockeater Worm."

    "Can we see it?"

    Krow eyed their enthusiastically curious expressions. "It''s not a pretty sight."

    "We''re here because we do not want to turn away from knowledge," reasoned the one called re.

    Well, alright then.

    He called the spirit-worm.

    Screams and curses filled the air. The massive circr mouth full of hundreds of tiny teeth and the spiked tentacles was probably a lot.

    The spirit-worm dived downward. Even in death, it didn''t really like being out of the ground.

    "You should dismiss it before it falls afoul of the spirit traps," cautioned Olvier.

    There were precautions against ghost-scouts on the Library?

    What was he asking, of course there were.

    It seemed the Library was as often hit by thieves as the Temples.

 Chapter 132 - The Enchanters Library (5)

    Krow dismissed all his ghost-scouts after the teens had their fill poking the semi-corporeal animals and Olvier finished a short lecture on the Ghost-caller subss.

    "As Krow could use his spirits to seek out specific items, I imagine he is at least Second Apprentice in rank. By First Apprentice, it would be possible to use the spirits to send messages."

    He was actually a bit over 50% through the First Apprentice rank. He hadn''t acquired the sending message skill yet. Maybe by 75% mastery?

    The old head of the library had known ghost-callers before, it seemed.

    "Would those not be the perfect skills for archaeologists and the archivists? Why haven''t we heard about this craft?"

    "They are undeniably useful. In my early years as a librarian, apprenticing to a ghost-caller was considered desirable. But centuries pass and the times change, hm. There are fewer ghost-callers now. And not many master ghost-callers today would take a student who would not join their temple."

    "Then how did you learn it, Krow?" A few students looked up at him.

    Did picking it up during character creation count as ''natural talent''?

    Haha.

    "I bought Skill Shards," he said instead.

    There were groans of disappointment.

    But then re had a revtion. "Master Olvier, you are a ghost-caller too."

    The students turned shiny hopeful eyes on the elderly vargvir.

    Olvier chuckled. "If you choose to be a librarian, it is not impossible to ask the masters of the library to share their skills. The spirit-seeing skill, which is the Ghost-caller basic skill, is on our list of Skill Shards avable to new librarians. Unfortunately, most people don''t see the value in it."

    A gleam formed in the eyes of the teen-agers.

    Krow was amused. Crafty old wolf; he sure knew how to advertise.

    Also, just joining the Library gave a list of skills to choose from? Thinking of what he had to do to gain Skill Shards from the masters in Rakaens, he couldn''t help butin internally.

    This was too unfair!

    "To qualify for the major skill called Seeker, which is what Krow used to search with his spirit-snake, you''ll have to master Spirit-seeing to at least 50%." Olvier smiled at the sparks of interest in the students. He tapped his walking stick on the stone floor. "But enough of possible futures. Let us go on to your rewards for collecting these pages, hm? A definite future."

    The reward was a junk storage room.

    More specifically, they were allowed to take one item from the storage room, except for re who would take two.

    "Enchanted artifacts," Olvier waved at the room. "Low-grade, of course. Pick what you want."

    The students scattered, chattering enthusiastically.

    Krow was ambivalent. All the shelves he passed, the items showed as various grades of Common, with a handful of Umon.

    They were just piled on the shelves like cheap pottery in marketstalls.

    Graded items had higher quality than ordinary ungraded items, so in general he could understand the students'' excitement. But there was nothing in these thousand shelves he could use.

    He spied arge wicker basket in a corner alcove.

    Broken and unusable items.

    A gleam of iridescent ss caught his eye.

    He reached into the basket to pull out a vial with three withered seeds rattling about inside.

    [Stardew Seed]

    [The seed of a Stardew Tree needs to be rehydrated before nting in ckriver loam.]

    It was still viable?

    Krow had no idea what a stardew tree was, but he knew ckriver loam was one of the top quality nting soils in Zushkenar, taken from particr rivers.

    The seed had no grade.

    But what had Krow keeping it was the word ''star'' in the title.

    Undoubtedly, there was some secret about it. Like his Starfall starting gear. Like his Starseeker travel items.

    He smiled.

    There was something good in this room after all.

    He straightened and jauntily headed for the exit.

    He passed a young vargvir looking dubiously at a set of scribe''s tools, happening to nce at the items.

    "Those need repairing," he said. "Take the ones on the upper shelf. They''re better quality, and only need to be cleaned."

    The vargvir blinked at him, but took the rmended set. He scratched a w against the grime on the stylus, revealing a jade-green material. "Thank you?"

    "Wee."

    "Uh, wait!" The vargvir grabbed his sleeve and pulled him to another student, a siren. "Grenvel, I brought help!"

    Krow was in too good a mood to refuse the pleading eyes, despite being half-dragged over.

    Grenvel the siren was frowning at two items in her hands. Knives.

    She looked up at Krow. "I don''t know which of these is better? The one with the space for poison darts in the handle, or the one that separates into throwing des¡­"

    ¡­weren''t those just bookbinding knives?

    Girl, what do you want to be in the future?

    An assassin librarian?

    He really wasn''ting back to this Library.

    "What features are you used to in the knives you use?"

    So Krow spent nearly an hour debating the merits of various items, his Greater Appraisal skill advancing incrementally because of six teenagers who took his being able to identify the status of anything as a challenge.

    Tsk.

    Brats.

    Still, everyone left the room satisfied with what they had.

    Olvier was talking with several people at one of the window alcoves, snacks arranged on a side-table, when they exited.

    Was it alright for the head of the grand and prestigious Tvard Enchanter''s Library, which was as big as a town itself, to be so carefree?

    Olvier cut his conversation with the senior librarians short and exuberantly got into a discussion with the students regarding their choices.

    He turned a curious eye on Krow. "And what did you choose?"

    He took out the vial of seeds.

    "Oh?" Olvier leaned closer. "I''m certain there were no seeds on the item list."

    "It was with the discarded items."

    "What?"

    "Krow, are you joking?"

    "Is it a super special seed?"

    "It doesn''t have a grade." Krow was amused at the dismay on the students'' faces. He could see what they were thinking: ''what did I choose with his help???!''

    "Why this one then?" Olvier asked, a thoughtful smile on the seeds.

    "All my gear is Umon grade or better; I didn''t need anything. These seeds are at least a mystery. Who knows what they would grow into?"

    "You show-off!"

    "Yeah Krow, you should treat us to meat if you''re so rich!"

    Krowughed at them. "Hurry up and get a job if you want better gear, you little terrors. I''m not giving you food. What if you grow?"

    Which reminded him¡­.

    He nced around. "Marses isn''t back yet?"

    He should be lurking around Circle Hall.

    There was no sign of the eye-catching red cloak and dark grey armor though.

    "The Reeve? He''s not in this part of the Library, at least." Olvier nced out the window. "He has not entered the outer hall since he left."

    Scary information gathering skills.

    Krow nodded. "I should go find him. Who knows what trouble would be piled on my head if it gets out I lost a Reeve?"

    A round of goodbyes and Krow was stepping out of the grand doors of the Library.

    Marses wasn''t in sight, but there were two Reeves at the nearby stables.

    Did they change his guard-sh-spy?

    The woman frowned as he came up, eyes roving the surroundings. "Marses isn''t with you."

    "Someone stole the Book of Maron. Marses went after a suspect."

    "He left you alone."

    "I was safely in thepany of the head of the library. You can ask."

    "It is not like him," the other spoke. Male, with a natural growl in the way he formed his words.

    Krow lifted his hands, a half-shrug. "I''m also surprised he''s not back. It''s been an hour. The one he was chasing wasn''t that fast."

    The two nced at each other.

    "Something happened, didn''t it."

    The woman inclined her head, repeated the words of herpanion, "It is not like him."

    And it had been an hour.

    That was a long time to be missing.

    "Appear." The spirit-snake coiled around him, surprising the two Reeves.

    [Find a person or object?] the Seeker skill immediately asked him.

    Earlier, he''d just put a book page in the slot, but how did it work with people? He chose the first option.

    A grid of headshots appeared.

    Huh.

    It was all the people he''d met locally.

    He tapped the image of Marses.

    [Marses Levent of Tvard. Confirm target?]

    Yes.

    [Target confirmed.]

    The spirit-snake shimmered to translucency and slithered rapidly away, starting to circle.

    "You are a ghost-caller." The vargvir half of the pair rumbled.

    "Yes?"

    "I have a gauntlet that used to be his."

    Oh. Right. Olvier mentioned a search for people could be done by following the traces of personal essence. It would have been logical to ask first.

    He was used to Gazzy not having anything needed in his storage.

    Was Gazzy already in Rends?

    He shook the thought away.

    They wouldn''t be the same people.

    He dismissed and then recalled the spirit-snake.

    The vargvir held out a leather gauntlet.

    Krow eyed it. How was this supposed to be done?

    Should he let the spirit-snake ''smell'' the item?

    The vargvir waved it through the incorporeal ghost-form of the snake.

    [Target confirmed. Marses Levent of Tvard.]

    There were multiple ways of confirming a target?

    Good to know.

    Krow let loose the snake again. This time, instead of a circling pattern it moved in a line.

    Useful.

    He pointed.. "That way."

 Chapter 133 - The Enchanters Library (6)

    "A direction is not enough. Do you have a definite location?"

    "It should be close," the vargvir rumbled.

    It would be close. A Reeve was eye-catching, always noticed. They were the shield and fist of the Primar. People would noticed if one disappeared.

    "Did you want Marses for something? Or should I not ask?"

    "We came for you."

    Eh?

    Did he get in trouble that he didn''t know about in thest hour or so?

    Pretty sure he didn''t.

    "Your requests have been fulfilled."

    It turned out that Sigram, the male vargvir, hade with confirmation of a berth on the ''Ungdvar'' to Galbrane. Evlene, the female human, had the horses to rece the ones the bandits killed.

    It was coincidence that they happened to reach the Library at the same time.

    Good timing.

    He wouldn''t have gone after Marses, if they hadn''t been there. He''d assume the older Reeve would have been ordered away.

    Krow stored the letter that would give him passage onto the ship. "What does the ship name mean?"

    He had no idea how to pronounce it.

    "A Song Breaking Through the Surf." Sigram murmured. "It is a reference to a sea-epic."

    Evlene smirked. "It''s actually a story about two lovers. Separated across seas, their hearts beat as one song, and with the power of love, they save a kingdom from destruction of a massive tidal wave."

    "That is the least of the storylines it contains."

    "It''s really not," she said in a stage-whisper to Krow, who was a little surprised they dropped some of their professional demeanor.

    Sigram grunted, frowning at Evlene, who lifted her hands in yful surrender.

    Krow smiled at them.

    "Thank you for this." He eyed the two horses stabled beside the others. He turned toward the streets, noting that the spirit-snake had started circling. Had it lost the ''scent''?

    Feeling eyes on him, he looked to see the two Reeves studying him expectantly. Evlene nced at the horses.

    He tried, "¡­good horses?"

    The unimpressed looks that got, had himughing sheepishly. "I know next to nothing about horses."

    "You requested them," Evlene stated in slight confusion.

    "Yes. We rode caravan horses toe here from the Seventh. They were killed by the bandits. I thought I might not have time to buy recements, so I asked."

    "You didn''t specify the type of horse?" At Krow''s headshake, she sighed. "And here I thought I could see someone with courage enough to request these horses from the Primar."

    Krow studied the horses again. They didn''t look special. They just looked fiercer than normal. "They can pull wagons, right?"

    Evlene burst out inughter, full-bellied amusement. Sigram snorted, looked at Krow like he was an idiot.

    She recovered quickly, with a massive grin on her face. She patted Krow on the shoulder. "They can, don''t worry. They''re called ironblood horses for a reason."

    Her personality reminded him a little of Cenree, really.

    "And you don''t recognize the name." She giggled briefly. "Don''t worry about it. It''s likely the Primar chose to give them himself."

    Ironblood horse.

    Krow hadn''t heard. Did he care? It wasn''t like he ever was going to choose a horse for a mount.

    A ping alerted him to his Map.

    "Found him." He brought out paper and quickly sketched out an approximation of the local map and the x that marked where Marses was. "He''s some ways below street level?"

    Evlene and Sigram leaned over his crude map.

    "That''s under the Hagerth Club." Evlene said suddenly. "I may know a way."

    "Another one of your ''contacts''?" Sigram sighed.

    "A familiar one, I assure you."

    "Lords above, not Foskervil."

    "You read my mind."

    Ten minutester, Krow understood Sigram''s reservations. Foskervil was the quintessential shady character.

    He was thin as a stick, his limbs looking they could snap in a small gale. His face was shadowed, though the first thing to see was the pointed chin. The rest of his face, what was visible, looked to be as sharp as a dagger. His gaze was cold, and his lips were bloodless and thin.

    He greeted Evlene like a long-lost friend, greed immediately lighting up his eyes as he eyed the two Reeves and Krow.

    But it appeared he was amenable to showing them an entrance to the sewers for money, which made him safer than those who traded in favors.

    "Foskervil¡­" Evlene eyed the crack in the foundation of a seemingly abandoned house.

    The stick-thin vargvir smiled at them, leaned close to Sigram. "An old smuggler''s route."

    "That means nothing to me." Sigram said stiffly.

    "Fah, you''re no fun. Send your armsmen crawling all over old dust then. Why does no one believe the information they buy from a gentleman of my reputation?"

    "Have you considered changing your scent?" Evlene shot at him.

    "I hear ''delicate'' is a theme popr with gentlemen these days," Krow added.

    The shady Foskervilughed in a single long exhale. "Just for that, you''ll have to make your way yourselves."

    "We were doing that anyway," Evlene called at his back.

    They entered the crack in the foundation, emerging into a sewer tunnel.

    After a moment of wary looking around, Sigram took point and Evlene fell into step beside Krow.

    "Ah, I forgot." She reached into her satchel. "Here."

    Krow blinked, took the package and gingerly flipped off the oilcloth.

    His head jerked up to look at her, astonished. Then he grinned.

    It was his main revolver.

    "It was easier, as it was spirit-bound." She shrugged.

    "Are you a ghost-caller too?"

    "A friend is."

    Krow had also been nning to look for the gun using one of his ghost-scouts. Dealing with wherever and whoever had picked it up, he expected to be a pain.

    He checked it over; no problems, just small scratches along the barrel. He eyed them quizzically. It looked like someone took a saw to it? The damage was superficial. It could wait until he found a proper smith to do a recheck.

    He cracked open the cylinder.

    It was empty.

    He swapped it for full darkspears. Krow twirled the gun once and holstered it, twitching his coat hem over it, as usual.

    He hadn''t realized he felt a little unbnced without the gun at his side.

    It was his trusty first revolver, after all.

    It had been with this avatar since the beginning.

    He drew the second from the small of his back, swapped out the cylinder to the usual shieldbursts it held.

    Krow had been nning to buy better bullets. He''d been using darkspears and shieldbursts since before Lvl 10. They''d been running out faster since he gained Lvl 19, unable to keep up with three-serpens monsters.

    He checked over the second gun too, then returned it to the back holster.

    Feeling a little more content with the day, he thanked Evlene profusely.

    What was there to be worried about?

    The two Reeves with him were at least twenty levels higher than Krow. Tvard mostly fielded yers under Lvl 30.

    He could just stroll leisurely along the sewers.

    They were very well-developed sewers:rge, airy, full of columns and interesting scenery. In some ces, there were even murals.

    Krow could smell a hint of salty sea even this far from the coast.

    These weremon sewers in Tvard?

    They were even more borate than the draculkar sewers, and that was saying something.

    His lips twitched wryly as a memory of wading through muck that sucked your boots off and trying to scrub off the smell of rotting waste that lingered for weeks floated across his mind. He pushed it away.

    The sewers made by people who had less sensitive noses were definitely not like these.

    Sigram, walking ahead, made a gesture. Then he lifted three fingers.

    Evlene waved a hand, stopping Krow.

    So¡­three people?

    Krow drew both guns, was about to offer help when Sigram''s figure was briefly limned by the shadow of a wolf and he shot around the corner.

    Ah, right. They didn''t need his help.

    Oh well, he''d enjoy the life of a pampered protectee for once.

    He still kept the revolvers out though.

    Evlene gestured them forward.

    Two vargvir were on the floor, unconscious, and the third was hanging from Sigram''s grip.

    "I need names," Sigram growled.

    "I don''t know anything," squeaked the smaller vargvir. "You think she tells someone like me, like us, anything? We just run errands."

    "You may know more than you think. Who is this she?"

    "I don''t know her name. She''s just the Lady."

    Sigram scoffed. He put the vargvir on his feet, and the guy crumpled into a heap. "I have a fewst¡ª"

    "Sigram, the lever!"

    Evlene''s warning was toote. The thief had rolled over to the wall and kicked down the lever, even as Sigram, reacting, reached.

    Water rushed out of opened sluices that wererger than Krow, barely giving them time to draw in a breath before they were swamped.

    The water punched like a two-ton fist.

    Krow struggled to hold the grappling hooks he''d quickly snapped out of the Inventory and dug into the stone wall beside him.

    [You are underwater.]

    [0:00:00:29:44]

    Just thirty seconds?!

    Gah.

    It looked so easy to move underwater in films, swim in whitewater rapids.

    Lie.

    Not even a minute and his lungs started burning, his HP started ticking down.

    Krow used the grapplehook like a climbing pick and hauled himself upward, counting each time he buried a hook in the cracks of the pretty mural.

    On the fifth, his head broke the surface of the water. He gasped deeply.

    Something grabbed the back of his coat. He struggled.

    "It''s me."

 Chapter 134 - The Enchanters Library (7 Of 7)

    Krow let Sigram heave him up the top of one of the columns that didn''t go all the way to the ceiling. What was the reason for that? They ran out of stone and just decided to leave it?

    "Did you lose your guns again?" Evlene smirked at the hooks in his hands.

    He shook his head, coughed. "There was a lever to create a deluge just waiting there?"

    His guns were in his Inventory. He flicked the grapplehooks there as well.

    "Sometimes it''s necessary to redirect waterflow to other parts of the underground," Evlene hummed, a slight frown on her face. "I didn''t expect them to be able to activate those. The idiot. Even if he and hispanions didn''t die, they likely broke multiple bones."

    "Odd thing for a Reeve to know. Did you work in sewer maintenance?" Krow grimaced as his boots squelched, a trail of water running off him.

    He hoped that was reservoir water. Some of it had gotten in his mouth. It was Rends, but shkav there were downsides to the immersion experience.

    "It pays to know much about the city, as a Reeve," Sigram disagreed. "Odd knowledge is often beneficial."

    The vargvir waved a hand at Krow. A warm gale swirled around him, ruffling the Travelcoat. A Spell. At the end of it, he was barely damp.

    "Oh, you doundry too?"

    "We cook, we clean, we even m¡ª"

    "Make certain that we are as presentable as possible at all times." Sigram did the same spell on Evlene. "Enough. They know we are here. We must move fast."

    "Marses would already be alerted." Evlene fell into professional mode. She eyed Krow, pointed at the next pir tform. "Can you jump?"

    "I can."

    Sigram once more led the way, Evlene keeping her post near Krow, who double-jumped after the vargvir.

    Krow watched their movements. He was envious. To be able to move like that without a movement spell, the Wolf Warrior ss was really versatile.

    It was one of the reasons he''d shortlisted it. At high levels, he didn''t need a strong movement spell, and at Lvl 50 there was an automatically assigned mount quest.

    They bounced a path through the massive reservoir and finallynded on a dry tform before a tunnel.

    Sigram cocked his head, ears swiveling. Krow blinked at the familiar action. How many times had he seen Gazzy do that? He looked away. This wasn''t the time to give in to nostalgia.

    The vargvir nced at Krow. "You could stay here. There are more people than expected ahead. I believe it''s a hub."

    "Equip-one," was Krow''s reply. His armors coalesced around him.

    He took the revolvers out of his Inventory.

    Even if he couldn''t keep up with two Reeves possessing levels over twice his own, he could still defend himself and give covering fire. From what he''d seen, neither were long-range specialists.

    The two Reeves looked his armored figure up and down, then nodded reluctantly.

    "Smugglers?" Evlene reached behind to the ive carried on her back, refocusing.

    "Possible. The scents are established. A long-term habitation. But it also smells like paper¡­"

    "They did steal a book." Krow shrugged. "Maybe they do that a lot? There are many rare tomes in Tvard."

    Sigram hummed, pinned his cloak back, revealing his axes. He rested his hand on one, before voicing a theory. "An illegal bookselling operation."

    "Really, another one?" Evlene sighed. "Thest one burned the books around me, Sigram!"

    Tvard was a city of contrasts.

    The orderly circr wall design, yet containing a riot of gardens and trees between the walls. A reputation for being hotblooded and fierce warriors, yet there''s the fact that the city was home to the greatest Enchanter research library in the world.

    What other warrior nation would count illegal bookselling as worthy of the attention of their royal guards?

    The tunnel led directly to another reservoir.

    At least this time, the water levels weren''t so high.

    Krow dived into an alcove behind a supporting pir as they were met by a full troop of people defending the other end of the tunnel.

    The two Reeves burst into action.

    Evlene''s ive sliced up armor and broke bones on the shaft. Sigram''s three axes shed in themp-lit tunnel, precise and deadly.

    Krow targeted the enemies looking to crowd either of the Reeves.

    <em>[You''ve eliminated a Lvl 38 member of the Dredris Crime Group and gained seven (7) Silver Serpens! 6/40]</em>

    He could also take out the ones they''d already weakened, apparently.

    He started shooting shieldbursts.

    With those kinds of levels, his darkspears would be like beestings.

    Wait, forty people?!

    That was the equivalent of arge bandit camp.

    Krow recognized the name.

    Dredris was a popr crime-group for yers in Marfall to join to gain Infamy, mostly due to the fact that they kept being found out by authorities and had multiple battle-quests.

    The members were nicknamed ''Dreds'' on the forums.

    Their ipetence was so lucrative, it became a meme.

    Possibly the only reason they survived to Zushkenar was that yers kept bolstering their ranks.

    Krow reloaded.

    A wounded Dredris member broke past the two Reeves, heading for Krow.

    What?

    He''d done mostly nothing. Was this guy one of the ones who fell on his face because of his shieldbursts and now wanted revenge?

    Priorities, guy.

    He shot as fast as he could. The Dred barely stumbled.

    He triggered Shadowbind. The Dred froze in his tracks.

    Sigram nced back, tossed his third axe almost negligently.

    The axe buried itself in the Dred''s nape and exited through the voicebox, severing the spine and pinning the criminal to the floor in front of Krow with an almost growling sound.

    Thanks, but he had it.

    The Dred gurgled, still alive. Krow ended his misery.

    <em>[You''ve eliminated a Lvl 43 member of the Dredris Crime Group and gained eight (8) Silver Serpens! 16/40]</em>

    He stepped on the corpse''s back and pulled the axe out. The sound of metal scraping against bone was¡­actually sounding real. He''d heard that sound multiple times in Zushkenar.

    Norge, what the hell. Did you record a butcher?

    To go so far for realistic sound design, that''s kind of obsessed.

    Not that Krow could criticize.

    He hefted the axe.

    <strong>[Eight-Thunder Axe]</strong>

    [Quality: D][Unique]

    <em>[''Upon the peak of Mount Thmos, I gaze down on the world, gripping the axe of my father''s father. </em>

    <em>''Teacher tells me, ''Nature does not hurry, yet all is aplished.'' </em>

    <em>''That is not my creed. </em>

    <em>''I call upon the roaring skies. I call upon the herald of destruction. I call upon the thunder.''] </em>

    Krow hurled it into the melee.

    It mmed against a Dred rushing Sigram''s back, impaling her against the tunnel wall with the same growling thunder that met the Dred Krow was still standing on.

    Sigram kicked a Dred into three others and reached for it, the axe neatly fitting back seamlessly into his movements. Thunder crashed and suddenly three people around the vargvir fell to the ground convulsing.

    A synergy effect.

    Krow started shooting again.

    Evlene smirked at him briefly as his shieldburst send a Dred stumbling into the path of the bloody ive somehow already skewering through the heart of another.

    Were ives supposed to pierce like that?

    They pushed the defenders back out of the tunnel into the reservoir area.

    Cries and screams sounded.

    What?

    Krow took a moment to process.

    There were prisoners. Scribes shackled to writing desks.

    Several of the Dredris members headed in that direction.

    For hostages?

    Shkav!

    After the one Shadowbind, he didn''t have enough MP for even a double-jump.

    He aimed, shot out the knee of the Dred in the lead. The vargvir stumbled into the siren behind him. The human Dred reached the scribes, only to crash into a writing desk, also with a bloody knee.

    He may not be able to kill them with one bullet, but there were still weak-spots that would allow a critical hit.

    It was too bad, really, that knee-shots didn''t work on most monsters.

    The momentary dy he created was enough for Evlene to reach the prisoners and slice through the heads of several who thought to take hostages.

    The others hesitated, and she ripped into them with a wild grin.

    A crash sounded on the far side of the reservoir.

    A red cloak fluttered, its owner dragging one of the Dreds out of a stone doorway by the neck.

    "What in Kombar''s name took you all so long?" Marses roared from across the reservoir.

    Tsk.

    "Where is the appreciation?" Krow yelled back. "After we took a nice long bath to meet you!?"

    He almost didn''t notice the woman aiming a dagger at his side. He dodged, getting a scrape across his ribs instead of a de through his heart.

    At the difference between their levels, he''d have died instantly.

    He shot out her knees.

    It didn''t keep her down for long, but at least the shieldbursts were more effective.

    "Down!"

    He dropped. Evlene''s ive whistled above him, slicing into his opponent''s throat.

    He huffed into the damp stone, thumping a fist onto it, before boosting himself up.

    He was next to useless in this fight.

    That irritated him.

    He understood, of course, that the high levels of the opponents were entirely due to the presence of the Reeves and it was fine letting them take care of it.

    He was just¡­

    He didn''t expect the mixed emotions that this visit to Tvard caused.

    He holstered his shieldburst revolver with sullen force, then took a deep breath. He wasn''t here for a Rends win, he reminded himself.

    He gave a small smile to the prisoners. "I don''t suppose you know where the key to those things are?"

    Let the warriors deal with war.

    He had things to do.

    [You''ve finished the quest <strong>|:The Book of Maron:|</strong> with good sess, gaining +20 Experience Points, +15 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Sub-objective: Find Marses</em>, gaining +30 Experience Points, +8 Silver Serpens!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Sub-objective: Fluttering Pages</em> with 45/187 loose pages found, gaining +5 Experience Points, +3 Silver Serpens, and +1 Reputation Point with Tvard!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Illicit Duplicate</em> with 45/187 pages of the restricted tome ''The Book of Maron'' copied, gaining +3 Experience Points, +1 Silver Serpens, and Maron''s Codex (Iplete)!]

    [You''ve finished the <em>Hidden Sub-objective: Save the Scribes!</em> with 23/23 scribes unharmed, gaining +5 Reputation Points with Tvard!]

    [Quest Completion: C+]

 Chapter 135 - The Drunken Ship (1)

    Krow was helping question the scribes that had been abducted to work for an illegal book-copying organization dedicated to smuggling precious tomes out of the Library when he recognized one of the scribes.

    Jedran Kalevos was one of the Baraldore officials who''d dered the Contracts of every one of the guildworkers void after the mess with Findrakon''s disbandment.

    He smiled in surprise.

    If the vargvir had experienced something like this, Krow wasn''t surprised by the sympathetic ear he''d bent to the uprising against Findrakon. He''d taken Gazzy under his wing, and taught him a lot about Zushkenar.

    The other nced around, uneasy, his smile obviously forced.

    Krow''s smile didn''t dim. "I''m Krow. Can you tell me where you were taken, your name, and the nature of your time under the Dredris Group?"

    "Jedran, uh¡­I was part of a teaching group¡­"

    Dredris had just waited outside various institutions of learning and abducted people apparently. Some were bought from ving groups, some were taken from outside Tvard.

    He asked about anything he heard from their captors. "Anything to make certain justice is kept."

    Overused and over the top lines, he''d since learned, was the way to keep some people talking.

    Jedran''s eyes sparked, and a deluge of observations flowed from his mouth.

    The Dredris branch in Tvard had gained new management, it appeared. An ambitious leader.

    But all these, just to copy rare books?

    Krow still couldn''t believe that was a thing.

    Then again, the content of most rare books on Earth had been digitized already, avable to most.

    There was a shout of frustration from another part of the reservoir. Another scribeing up against Sigram''s unrelenting fa?ade no doubt ¨C it happened six times already. Counting that one, seven.

    He nodded onest time at Jedran, who smiled briefly.

    "Thank you."

    Wrapping up the semi-interrogation, he dropped off the papers he''d used to transcribe his work with Marses, who was sitting with the rest of the scribes, trying to keep them calm. And prevent them from running. Plus see if there were Dredris sympathizers mixed in.

    Krow sighed.

    Jedran Kalevos didn''t recognize him, which was a blow.

    But still, Krow felt a little lighthearted at being able to do this for him. The vargvir he''d known was a good person.

    He hadn''t deserved this.

    "How were you captured again?" Krow asked. Marses had made it sound like he''d just been waiting for an opportunity to escape, not that he couldn''t. "What happened to the one who said I stole the Book?"

    "They used a paralytic." Marses scoffed. "The cowards. As for that idiot, his cold body likely has been found by the city patrols by now."

    "You wouldn''t happened to know what they used?" A paralytic that downed a Lvl 50+ like Marses would be useful.

    But Marses shook his head. "A blue powder that spread in a cloud, is all I know.

    It figured.

    Krow wandered the reservoir, moving between the writing desks with shackles still attached to them.

    He nudged one pile of chains with his boot, sending it clinking against the stone floor.

    People looked up at the sound, but ultimately returned to what they were doing.

    Evlene was dealing with thest of the Dredris bodies and scouting the tunnels around them for a route, going off a sketch of the surrounding sewers from the spirit-snake''s exploration. The scribes were still overwhelmed by the relief of their release.

    They were all preupied.

    When finally it was time to leave, Krow had fourteen or soplete Enchanter books in his Inventory, and over twenty iplete ones.

    Evlene''s route sent them directly upward.

    The group was quite the sight, three Reeves and a draculkar striding through the exclusive corridors of the Hagerth Club with over twenty people in various states of dishevelment.

    A vargvir intercepted them, horror in his eyes at the sight of their ragged group trudging out of the bowels of the club into the public areas.

    "This is an invitation-only establishment," he stopped them, eyeing Krow up and down disdainfully then sniffing imperiously at the scribes with him. "I must ask you to leave."

    Krow lifted a brow, and didn''t even have to say anything.

    He saw how the vargvir''s eyes popped and knew Marses had just rounded the corner, followed by two others wearing the distinctive red cloaks.

    "We <em>are</em> leaving," Krow told him.

    The vargvir nodded, speechless. He shook his head, ears rxing from their rmed rigidity, forcibly recovering from the bewilderment. "I would guide you. This way, if you would."

    He bowed them into a room that led to a side corridor and then to a back street.

    Krow didn''t make a fuss. It was better to not get the newly-freed scribes gawked at by people who in their privilege would never understand.

    The day was approaching sunset.

    His ship would sail in several hours.

    Sigram and Evlene took the scribes to people who could help. Marses took Krow to a shopping street where once again he brandished a letter with the Primar''s seal. Even with that support, Krow was forced to part with 20,000 gold drax on crates of Rare bullets.

    Nightmeteor Bullet, which the proprietor had introduced as part of the Meteor series of bullets that included the Meteorcrash and the Raid Comet, both of which Krow had never heard of before.

    The stats on them were fairly impressive though.

    Nightmeteor didn''t have the sh and boom of the other two, which was why Krow chose it. Enhanced senses were no joke.

    Numbskull Bullet, which paralyzed as long as it hit the brain of the target. He still had a lot of shieldburst bullets, but a paralyzing option was always desirable.

    The prices for Rare bullets were dear. He was grateful the proprietor was a non-yer, or not even the seal of the Primar would give him a discount.

    Afterward, Krow returned to the caravan.

    Ebry nearly fainted over the horses, making small wordlessly confused noises and waving his arms as if he wanted to grasp coherency out of thin air. Stoic and reserved Calon reached out and patted the nearest horse as if it was a religious experience.

    The rest of the caravan stared, nearly unbreathing, disbelieving.

    Krow eyed Marses, suspicious. "What kind of horses are those again?"

    The Reeve snorted. "Good horses."

    "Okay?"

    Calon stopped patting the horse, looked at Krow seriously. "This is an Ironblood Grass Horse."

    They stared at each other.

    "¡­yes?" Evlene had called them that, earlier in the day.

    "Ironblood horses."

    "I don''t know where you''re going with this."

    Calon''s gaze grew more intense. "They are only bred in a single stable."

    Marses nodded.

    "So they''re limited and elite." Krow understood atst. "Well, Avan''s friend is a royal, so that''s not surprising."

    He wondered why he''d not heard of them, though. If they were famous in Alliance territory, they should be famous in the Hagons too, right?

    Calon narrowed his eyes at him, still sensing his confusion. "There are just ten birthed per year. They can live to five hundred years."

    Oh! Half-millennium horses!

    Seriously, why the different names?

    Krow had heard of them after all. They were faster than most horses and could gallop for 24 hours before tiring. Their carry capacity was in the range of two tonnes.

    They were <em>really</em> good mounts, yes.

    But only under Lvl 60. There was a Lvl 60 zone where an Epic raid quest dropped griffin eggs, which were the first winged mounts avable to most yers in Rends.

    There was a reason Krow was excited over acquiring a galedrifter so soon.

    Ebry broke out of his perplexed shock. "They''re ours?"

    "All yours." Krow nodded, then smirked a bit. "Maybe the world is paying you back for the pain of leaving those grey horses in the woods."

    "That was excruciating to do." Ebry nodded, serious. Then he grinned widely. "But now, my heart has recovered! Let''s celebrate!"

    The taverns near the merchant quarter of the seventh circle were extra lively that evening.

    It was falling night when Marses and Krow extracted themselves from the dancing.

    The ship Krow had dubbed ''the Song'' bobbed up and down gently in the waves. It was built in the style of a galleon, butrger by far.

    Krow stared at the cheerful crowd and the lights around the ship.

    "What is happening?"

    "This is the fastest non-military ship currently in the city."

    They wended their way past the clumps of people talking animatedly, heading for the ramp. The smell of hard spirits wafted from many a group.

    "That doesn''t exin why there is what looks like a festival on deck."

    They were stopped by two stern-looking bouncers before they reached the ramp.

    "Masters, would you like a drink before you board?" They gestured to a table set up near the ramp.

    Marses stopped but ignored them, turning to Krow. "It''s the ninth circling."

    Krow parsed that to mean it was the September-equivalent month in Rends.

    "There''s a festival in Duryndon, during thest week, to celebrate the harvest. Many are invited."

    Krow looked around. "A liquor festival."

    One edge of Marses''s lips lifted. He gestured to the casks on the table nearby. "It''s customary to taste the offerings before boarding."

    "I''m not going to Duryndon, though." The festival would likely be over when he finished his business.

    "Tradition."

    Tsk. Krow stepped up to the table.

    He stared confusedly at the paper, pen, and ink pushed toward him.

    "Let us start with the first cask," the woman at the table smiled.

    Eh?

    Did that mean he had to sample all ten casks?

    The womandled a generous amount of liquor into a dwarviran drinking cup. The cup was wide and shallow, almost like a bowl, with a stem and two horizontal handles.

    There was about a half-litre of liquor in it,pping nearly to the brim.

    Krow nced dubiously at the ten casks, then at the bright-lit ship. Even from all the way down to where he was, he could hear raucousughter from the deck.

    He sure hoped this tradition didn''t extend to the crew.

    Krow curled his fingers over the handles of the wide cup, lifted it, and tipped the contents into his mouth until there was nothing left.

    [Arbrun Brandy]

    [Quality: C+][Rare]

    [A brandy distilled from wine pressed out of the fulmineberries of the town of Arbrun, outside Duryndon. Made in the third circling of the year 9051 AS, from a twenty year old wine. Due to the bluevein grapes and ckvenin added in the creation, the texture of the brandy bes smoother and the distinctive ''warming lighting'' effect is produced.]

    The brandy was like a lightning bolt down his gullet.

    It tingled in a dramatic not-quite-painful pleasure.

    He mmed the cup down and took a breath.

    Whoa.

    Now he knew why all those people were drunk.

    Swearing off excessive drinking had never seemed like arger mistake than now.

 Chapter 136 - The Drunken Ship (2)

    "Sir?"

    "Hm?" Krow blinked.

    "It has been three minutes. You musty out your verdict or move to the next cask."

    The woman ced a new drinking cup in front of him, lifting the empty one into a tray held by an assistant.

    She started to fill it to the brim.

    Krow was beginning to think this tradition was a test of how functionally drunk a person could get. He was on the ninth cask already, and his head swirled like a kaleidoscope in a whirlpool.

    The dwarvir at the table eyed him with a slightly impressed expression.

    <em>Major Intoxication</em>, warned his status, like it had been doing since the fifth cask.

    His HP started to slowly tick down by increments of -1 point per second.

    And this was only the pregame.

    How did people survive this festival?

    Did the Zushkenari have extra livers he didn''t know about?

    He wouldn''t be surprised if the dwarvir race did, actually.

    He took up the pen and copied the words on the appraisal frame to the paper.

    <strong>[Gedruk Tearoot Liquor]</strong>

    [Quality: B-][Umon]

    <em>[A distilled beverage made from the fermented root mash of the Gedruk Tea-vine, which grows symbiotically on the antspider willow tree in the deep jungles of Rombe territory.]</em>

    <em>[This variant contains Bloodstripe Lavender flowers and the buds of the poisonous Ballfern. Distilled 50 years ago, during the Ten-fort Wars in the south of the continent, judging frm the hints of Sweet Valerian in the aftertaste.]</em>

    Krow put down the pen, grasped the handles of the drinking cup, and guzzled it down like water.

    He carefully put down the cup ¨C the table looked like it was slightly undting. Who enchanted a table like that? Useless.

    The liquor burned; it felt like it exploded an inferno in his gut.

    What the hell Norge, even this was programmed in?

    You and your creative team sure had a lot of free time¡­

    <strong>[Tomb Liquor]</strong>

    [Quality: E][Unique]

    <em>[A distition made from high-quality grain, though an acquired taste. The name was coined from fist being discovered in the ancient underground mausoleums of Galbrane. The differingposition of soil and rock, as well as the air of the tombs, cause no two types of Tomb Liquor to be the same.]</em>

    <em>[This variant has the ''bloody'' taste of liquor entombed in the redhill area of northern Galbrane. The cool and refreshing fragrance of the liquor indicated it was exhumed from a royal tomb, the distinctive scent being imparted by the rimestone wood from the cewoods that traditionally encase the corpses of the Galbrane ruling family. ]</em>

    <em>[The gentle earthy smoothness and the amount of ''fire'' it stokes in the belly indicates an entombing of at least 600 years, but not more than 800.]</em>

    Krow put down the pen. The world swayed gently as he did so.

    The paper was immediately snatched up by the dwarvir. Several other overseers of this festival tradition crowded behind him and read over his shoulders.

    The dwarvir smiled, satisfied. "As expected. There are many interesting participants this year."

    Participants?

    The woman straightened, professional smile gaining a tinge of genuineness. "Wee aboard, sir."

    Krow beamed at them. "I thank you for the invitation. I don''t suppose we can start from the first cask all over again?"

    The cost of any one of the ten casks of booze was out of his price range at the moment, but since they were just giving it away for free¡­

    The dwarvir''sugh boomed across the docks. "You are not the first to ask."

    "But the first to be indulged?"

    The dwarvir chuckled. He answered with one word: "No."

    Tsk.

    "You wound me. I cannot even go and drown my sorrows." Krow sighed. After drinking high-end booze, who''d want to drink with cheap alcohol after?

    He pressed his fingers against his forehead. Turning on his heel, he strode up the ramp.

    On deck, he paused.

    Shadedmps glowed a warm yellow-orange all over the ship, as they hung from the rails and the rigging. With the slight mist that had rolled in with the falling of night, the soft glowing created an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

    Several minstrels lounged around the deck, strumming songs. Krow recognized the song ¨C it was fairly popr on the music sites and will be for the next year too. It had been rearranged to strings and woodwinds, then slowed down.

    yer Bards then, not minstrels.

    Krow stumbled as the ship moved under him. "Whoa, was that me or the ocean?"

    Several of the people around chuckled.

    "You get used to it," said one.

    Krow grinned at them. "Hope so, because if I don''t it''s going to be a miserable trip."

    He nced at his status. There was no ''Seasickness'' notice, so he was in the clear.

    Now, the pressing question, where was his room?

    The papers Sigram gave him only mentioned he had the seventh starboard passenger cabin. Where were those on a sailing ship?

    "Marses¡­"

    "This way." The Reeve shouldered a path to the rear of the ship. He took a flight of stairs, then a corridor. "Which one is yours?"

    "Seventh starboard."

    Marses entered another corridor and then gestured down the row of doors. "These are the starboard upper deck cabins."

    Krow counted to the seventh, then pressed the included token on the door handle. The door opened.

    The cabin was crammed with a desk and chair, a bed, a wardrobe, a stuffed sofa, and a bank of overhead cabs.

    There was a tiny bathroom, with the entrance nearly concealed by the wardrobe. There was a single circr window that let moonlight in.

    Cozy. He liked it.

    "What exactly goes on in a liquor festival?" Krow gave voice to something he''d been wondering since he''d been asked to rate the ten casks of alcohol outside the ship.

    "A week of drinking and games, generally."

    "And this ship?"

    "Have you ever heard of the Lancras family of Duryndon?"

    "¡­Lancras wine?"

    Marses chuckled. "Of course the draculkar knows the wine."

    Krow shrugged. Lancras wine was cheap, strong, and delicious. It became the drink of choice for many of the transmigrated yers in western Marfall.

    "They also make beer and spirits," Marses continued. "Every year on the liquor festival, they put up an auction and a contest. The auction offers a chance at rare casks and the contest prize is a recipe. They''re a family that has been making alcoholic beverages for centuries, have perfected many recipes and techniques. The auction and contest are well-attended."

    Krow peered at him through the haze of intoxication. "Did you¡­enter me in some strange drinking contest?"

    "ces on this ship cannot be bought with money or simple influence."

    What?

    He was too drunk to engage his brain tonight.

    He waited for the vargvir to exin, but Marses only smiled ndly at him.

    Krow huffed, reached into his inventory for a General Antidote. "I was hoping to be drunk as can be tonight. That''s gone, Marses. Gone."

    The potion shed his drunkenness by half.

    "Possibly being too drunk on a ship thispetitive isn''t a good idea."

    With partially restored mental rity, Krow grasped the warning.

    Oh.

    He smiled gratefully at the Reeve. "Thanks for looking out for me."

    Every passenger on the ship likely had passed the liquor identification test outside.

    If it got out that Krow had bypassed the trial, he''d be challenged left and right for the whole voyage.

    No thanks.

    "I didn''t expect you to drink through all the casks. Most people are allowed past the testing area after the sixth, you realize."

    "And turn down all the free drinks? High quality liquor, Marses."

    The Reeve let out aughing sigh. "To be young again."

    A single loud bell sounded in the night outside the cabin window.

    He patted Krow on the shoulder. "The ship is readying. This is where I leave you."

    Krow walked out and watched him debark.

    Around him, various people were calling goodbyes to friends or family.

    The ship moved away from its berth.

    Tvard had been his favorite city to visit in another life.

    It had been full of energy, when most other cities and towns diminished to shells of themselves during the wars.

    He''d never expected that his choice of race meant that Tvard, which formerly weed him enthusiastically within its walls, would greet him with cool politeness when they met again.

    Gah.

    He''d nned on sourcing much of his enchanting knowledge and material from Tvard.

    He''d have to consider other ns now.

    The libraries of the Gate-cities were overflowing with books umted over millenia, for example. But they weren''t specialized libraries.

    Hunting down good enchanter books for his Grimoire in those massive libraries would require work.

    Maybe after the Gauntlet¡­

    He''d have more time then.

    The ship grew more distant from the docks, and the people on deck started to disperse.

    It had been a bittersweet experience, seeing Tvard again.

    Even if he hadn''t seen much of his old haunts, that was probably for the best.

    He made a note to never go to Baraldore if he could help it.

    Most of the quests he knew there were generic battle-quests anyway.

    Krow watched the lights of the great city of Tvard grow dimmer and softer, until the bulk of the city was obscured behind mist and the dark heand.

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!