The Stubborn Skill-Grinder In A Time Loop

Contrary to Orodan’s expectations, the three months went by smoothly; a far cry from how his long loops typically went. There were no reprisals, no inquisitors coming by to investigate him and no military fleets suddenly showing up to destroy him.

There had certainly been some wide sweeping reactions to all had occurred though.

The fort of Port Bellgrave for starters, had noticed foreman Elwin Clemmings’ disappearance once Orodan lifted Incipience of Infinity from the constabulary. It had happened around the time he left for Castle Ironpeak too, since the range on the skill wasn’t all that high. Of course, the fort commander had also discovered the abuses the foreman was heaping onto his indentured servants. There was simply no proof of who had done it, and desperate enough to have her hands washed of the matter and leave the former fort commander’s influence behind, she had pronounced the investigation inconclusive. The mines though, were brought under the fort’s direct purview, with working conditions and employment at them being voluntary even for indentured servants as Collective law had always stated.

Castle Ironpeak however - though Orodan didn’t see any of it with his own eyes and got the news from Luetta - was in an uproar. Orodan’s sabotage of a great deal of high-value enchantments had set Lord Morvale and the Ironpeak enchanter’s guild back severely. Wealthy clientele were the man’s greatest source of income, and the sabotage had stripped that for a month and left his reputation in question for a while longer. Needless to say, the castle’s security had been beefed up to the high heavens and traffic was monitored far more closely since. If Lord Morvale ever suspected the timing of the sabotage being too close to his encounter with Clyburn, the man was far too busy to do anything about it.

Legal threats and further sabotage? The arrogant noble had no time to interfere with Clyburn’s work as he was occupied putting out the fires in his own.

The greatest waves however, had come from the discovery of an Eldritch tainted inquisitor attempting to sabotage a project critical to the war effort. Luetta reported that all of Lonvoron was naturally in an uproar that the Eldritch were capable of having tainted operatives outside of the dead zone. The inquisition’s credibility was brought under heavy scrutiny, and the High Inquisitor had ordered an immediate recall of all members of the organization to Storven, with those not showing considered enemy operatives subject to being hunted and killed on sight.

As expected, this meant increased security everywhere, Port Bellgrave included. More fleets patrolled the waters, and the fort was also ordered to begin producing batches of lantern-like devices which were supposedly meant to detect the Eldritch. Inquisitors apparently used the devices, but the fright from the recent loss of trust had caused demand to soar and there were talks of equipping city guards and soldiers across the planet with the things.

And in the background, Luetta had also said that the Collective’s voidcraft were scrambling to find just what had entered their local star system in the aftermath of Orodan’s titanic clash against Ur-Vah’sahn. Apparently, the Collective had encountered one of the Living Crystal’s pieces, had a skirmish against it, only for the other to suddenly appear, fuse with the first, and wipe out the responding fleet. It escaped shortly after, but Orodan had no doubt it still lingered near enough.

Perhaps he would get the chance to fight it once more and finish the job he’d started?

But all of these were thoughts for the future.

For now, the only thing which mattered was the ore in front of him.

[Mining 26 → Mining 27]

His pickaxe hit the iron-laden wall, crushing rock, stone and ore. Whatever was dropped, Orodan simply waved his hand, and it was pulled into his dimensional storage ring, a convenient modification made by Fenton.

His next strike wasn’t with pickaxe, but fist. His hand crushing dirt, metal and rock, causing it to fall down for gathering. His strength was carefully moderated of course, no more than that of a decently strong Initiate lest he collapse the mines.

The tapestry of fate shifted around him, practically pouncing towards him like an ambush predator.

Orodan was ready for it though.

[Fate Mastery 36 → Fate Mastery 37]

[Fate Disconnect 84 → Fate Disconnect 85]

Their local section of the tapestry shook as Orodan forcibly took control of multiple threads, scrambling them and essentially disrupting the board. This made Luetta’s attempt at getting past the Fate Disconnect far weaker.

And upon hitting the soul energy shield, the tendrils she was probing with were practically disintegrated.

“Hrk!” he heard from behind as he continued mining. “I’m running through tissues at an alarming rate with how many headaches and nosebleeds you’ve caused.”

Fate Reading was a mental task which required concentration and the investment of focus into the tapestry. Skilled fate readers seeking to parse as much information as they possibly could would even dip their senses and awareness into it. Naturally, for a Grandmaster like Luetta, alongside her Bloodline skill which allowed her to mold the tapestry itself, her mind was closely tied to any attempts at fate reading.

Of course, when one’s mind and consciousness were deeply rooted in the tapestry, consequences could arise from having fate reading attempts thrown off.

As a result, Luetta had been suffering headaches and nosebleeds aplenty over the last three months as Orodan destroyed her tendrils of perception in the tapestry over and over. She had gotten better at tolerating the backlash by now, but she’d refused Orodan’s recommendation to engage in physical training to withstand them as well.

Perhaps she’d been offended when Orodan insinuated a stiff breeze would bowl her over? Or maybe she’d seen what Orodan regularly put Fenton through and decided she wanted none of it. In any case, despite Orodan’s insistence that physical conditioning would ameliorate the mental backlash, the woman had no interest in rectifying the lack of decent muscle on her bones.

“And yet, I don’t see you stopping. I suppose all the levels you’ve gained in your Bloodline skill aren’t a bad exchange.”

“An exchange which will inevitably lead to trouble once I crest and surpass the Grandmaster-level. I’ve never met someone as capable as yourself who can defeat my attempts at fate reading in so direct a way; this training is causing me to accelerate far too fast. I don’t have any arrangements made for what comes after,” Luetta said. “And who knows whether I shall take the path of divinity or transcendence? The prospect of a trial is nerve-wracking I’ll admit. Shall I prove insufficient and be forced to abandon my home, family and friends? Or will I rise to the challenge and then have the crown hunt me down and bind me to servitude?”

Much like his home world and what had befallen Zaessythra, achieving Transcendence would draw attention. The Hegemony came for the former world ruler of Vylrystia, and here on Lonvoron the Blackworth Collective would come for Luetta Treadway. Powerful factions didn’t like unaffiliated Transcendents running around in their territory.

“Something tells me you’ll pass the trial just fine. And if you’re concerned about moving too fast, just stop training with me,” Orodan advised. “The trial of transcendence in fact causes quite some ripples across the tapestry of fate. As a Grandmaster fate reader, you know this better than I.”

“Correct. But I shall be far too preoccupied with the trial to cover for my ascension…”

Cover for her ascension? Orodan turned around to frown at her.

“If you want something, just say it. Batting your eyelashes while hiding behind that gaudy fan of yours doesn’t impress me.”

“Hmph! And your brutish and unrefined manners are equally unimpressive to my civilized sensibilities. Do they have no gentlemen on Alastaia? Men of chivalry who would rush to help a delicate woman such as I?” she asked. “Are they all rough-looking barbarians lik-”

Her eyes widened as a pebble came her way.

The cells of Orodan’s body each took on different intentions, his mind splitting and contradicting itself. Like a madman, he held multiple opposing thoughts at the same time. One group wanted to target the nose, another the foot. Like a contestant at a fair game, picking from a random assortment, he ran with a stray thought, no rhyme or reason to it.

The pebble reached its mark, causing a most un-ladylike squawk of pain from her. Right in the kneecap, one of Orodan’s favorite targets.

The pebble hadn’t been unfairly fast either. Luetta had simply predicted wrongly as her fan went to her shoulder instead.

“You won’t be reaching Transcendence anytime soon with that sort of fate reading.”

Her face was red with fury, and a glare came his way.

It was a new trick he’d learned, particularly meant to confuse fate readers. Yes, the tapestry of fate reacted to his every thought, shifting with his changing intentions. But… what if he was too mad and random with his intentions for it to be parsed? Each cell in Orodan’s body was a mind of its own. What fate reader could keep up with millions of minds having separate thoughts and the final result picked entirely at random?

Whenever he did that, the threads of fate connected to him would blink most chaotically causing a dazzling lightshow which was borderline impossible for even him to understand.

“How is anyone meant to read the tapestry when you scramble it in such a manner? It’s as though a million different changes are taking place at once!”

“Get better then,” Orodan said with a smile, returning to the wall he was mining. “And perhaps put in more work and less complaints.”

“When are you heading back to your world again? I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome,” she icily complained. “Such an unchivalrous cur… assaulting a gentle and defenseless lady such as I…”

Given how well armed Luetta was, Orodan would have to question the defenseless bit.

“If you want chivalry, go serenade Talricto. I’m sure that spider would like his pride stoked while he mumbles something pretentious,” Orodan said. “Now then, let’s cut to the chase. You want me to mask the results of your trial of transcendence on the tapestry.”

“Correct, I’m willing to-”

“No need for any compensation, I’ll do it.”

“T-that’s it? You will?”

“Of course. It’s good training, and I think I have a decent method of going about it too.”

“I see… I’ll leave it in your capable hands then. If anyone’s capable of affecting large portions of the tapestry with raw power, it would be you,” she said. “And… if I fail…”

“Which you won’t. But in the unlikely scenario in which it occurs, I’ll simply reverse time,” Orodan reassured. He’d seen beings with far less talent in their respective skills succeed in attaining Transcendence. Luetta would be fine. “In any case, hold off on going past the Grandmaster-level until I make some preparations.”

Preparations which involved finding a secluded location far out of the way. Left unsaid was the fact that he was the only one with enough raw power on hand to cause the System’s time stop to fail, something which always notified an Administrator whenever it occurred. But Orodan had something in mind for that too.

In any case, the matter was settled, but for a later time. Certainly not now, and not until they’d wrapped up the business with Clyburn’s project for Luetta still had a bit to go before she could rise past the Grandmaster bottleneck.

Currently, mining was all he cared for. It seemed a dull and pointless thing, with even Luetta initially being unwilling to accompany him to the mines simply so he could multitask. It had taken Talricto bribing her with more trinkets to agree, and even then, she didn’t look like she was enjoying sitting there being pelted by the occasional rock while Orodan loudly smashed rock and metal.

But at the end of the day, sometimes the most profound of gains came from the humblest of things.

His mining continued well into the night with nary a level gained.

Yet somehow Orodan left feeling more confident in his martial abilities all the same.

#

After his final jaunt at the mines, he’d headed straight for here. Someplace no other mortal on Lonvoron could safely enter without protective gear or magic.

The south tower of the fort.

And in the basement, noxious fumes covered the entire laboratory.

In front of him was a vat of liquid, its nature most deadly. It was just past regular shift hours, and only Orodan and the lead alchemist of the south tower - Emory Weller as he’d learned - remained within.

“If you’re sure about this Mister Wainwright…” the lead alchemist muttered, most nervous. “I’ve ceased being surprised by your antics, but this is a new and exceptionally daring venture, even by your standards.”

“It’s just a bath; do you not take those?” Orodan asked.

“Of course I do! But what madman would think to take a bath in alkahest?!” Emory yelled. “And not just regular alkahest, but the sort which can destroy the surrounding thousand miles if it leaks.”

“A man on a journey to improve his Acid Resistance. Now then, you’ve ensured the room is sealed and airtight?”

“I wouldn’t be standing here behind four layers of protection and enchantments if I hadn’t.”

Orodan and Emory had worked together over the past three months to not only produce copious amounts of alkahest, well exceeding the crown’s desired quotas, but had also built special storage containers and modified the workspace to be suited for containing Orodan’s modified alkahest. Now, even if the alkahest got loose, the only one affected would be him, and he wouldn’t have to worry about the Ironhaven Isles becoming devoid of life.

All this work had predictably crossed him over to the Elite-level of Alchemy, and Orodan could now call himself an Alchemy Elite. On Alastaia this would’ve meant being part of a rare few, being coveted by the most powerful of noble houses and making an extravagant living. Of course, he was on Lonvoron now where being an Elite alchemist simply meant he could be considered a veteran staff member of the lab.

Countess Primrose Lawson was the woman nominally in charge of Port Bellgrave, a decently high-ranking military official and politician. Her coffers gave her some say in how the Ironhaven Isles’ operations were run, and the woman had gladly allowed Emory to modify the workshop and do as he pleased. Given how much profit he was bringing her with the increased alkahest production, it was a fair request. She’d also agreed to keep the methods of just how the alkahest was produced so quickly and, in such quantities, a secret.

Even she didn’t know what was going on in the lab, which was fine by her as the woman was wise enough to not question excellent results when they came her way. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

But alchemy aside, Orodan’s main aim in visiting the lab was to train his Acid Resistance. Hence the open container in front of him.

“Well, if I die it’s been a good time,” Orodan remarked, raising himself over the mouth of the large vat.

[Acid Resistance 73 → Acid Resistance 74]

His skin prickled and sizzled as the fumes covered his body, and this was without him even entering the vat. It was good progress however, when but three particles of this substance had ravaged his body the first time he’d made it.

He’d mostly been joking when he cautioned Emory about his death. Over the last three months he’d been drinking and bathing in regular alkahest multiple times a day every day. He’d even graduated to sipping his modified and lethal version too.

It was an exceedingly deadly acid, capable of reducing any target substance to absolute nothingness, however Orodan had inoculated himself against it repeatedly and thoroughly all this time.

Today would be the culminating event of it. A direct bath.

There was no need for a gentle lowering. Orodan simply dropped into the vat with a splash.

[Acid Resistance 74 → Acid Resistance 77]

Immediately, his world was nothing but non-existence.

Thanks to Absolute Body Composition, each of his cells was capable of thought in and of itself. Yet as the acid bath hit and subsumed every part of him, it was as though many millions of minds were instantly eradicated, their thoughts completely lost and dissolved down to utter nothingness.

Over two-thirds of Orodan’s physical form faced instant destruction. The other third stubbornly hanging on as he focused on empowering Harmony of Vitality with as much soul energy as it could take to repair his body.

[Incipience of Infinity 138 → Incipience of Infinity 139]

Slowly but surely, he began to gain ground, as his cells regenerated faster than the acid could destroy them. The skill began to gain levels too, and Orodan began pushing back against the tide of devouring liquid which sought to erase him.

“That vitality skill is ridiculous… are all otherworlders capable of such a thing?” Emory asked, astonished.

Orodan opened his mouth to talk, but acid flowed in and ravaged the inside. Well, he could speak later he supposed.

At least the substance tasted decent.

Thirty minutes passed, and eventually Orodan’s recovery outpaced the acid enough that it just wasn’t feeling effective.

Finally, he could talk.

“You asked if there are others like me who can heal as I do? Who knows? The cosmos is vast, and there are plenty of Transcendents and Embodiers out there. I’ve met a few who have respectable healing capabilities though,” Orodan said. Trolls and slimes were naturally good for it, and he’d fought a creature or two which had regeneration he had to work past through battles of attrition. Yet none of them had truly compared to his own. “But enough of that, it’s time for the next phase of this.”

“Next phase?”

“This acid isn’t doing enough.”

A roar tore free from his lips. An order… a commandment.

[Commandment of War 44 → Commandment of War 45]

He directed, demanded the acid thoroughly infiltrate every part of his body. The liquid which had till now been scalding the surface layer of cells, now began getting into the gaps, Orodan allowing it. He let it flow through the small spaces between cells, encouraging it to destroy as much as it could.

[Acid Resistance 79 → Acid Resistance 80]

The modified alkahest entered every single part of him. The cells of his skull, his torso, his ribs, eyes, everywhere. And it thoroughly began eradicating him from the inside out.

Orodan neared death a few times as he was reduced to clumps of dissolving flesh. Yet, these clumps… they were slowly beginning to adapt where the rest of him failed. And he took the lessons from them and applied it further as he began reforming himself with Harmony of Vitality.

Orodan was disintegrated and reformed over and over. Yet he gained ground, even as the alkahest coursed through him like water flowing into sand, getting between each grain. He would not falter, and he would master this alkahest, tempering his physical form.

He tightened the gaps between cells, making it harder for the substance to flow through. He strengthened the boundary of each cell, making them tougher. And as each cell was destroyed and reformed over and over, Orodan learned how to make them just a little bit stronger each time.

After fifteen minutes, he began noticeably outpacing the alkahest’s destruction of him.

After half an hour, the concoction only partially harmed the outer layer of each cell.

And after an hour, the alkahest was useless as a final set of messages appeared.

[Acid Resistance 82 → Acid Resistance 83]

[Body Tempering 73 → Body Tempering 74]

And from here Orodan knew no further gains would come. The alkahest now failed to sizzle even a singular cell of his, for his body had grown strong, and his intrinsic understanding of how to resist the liquid had grown by leaps and bounds.

Truly, this was good training. But it had run its course.

Acid Resistance was well and good, but the singular level of Body Tempering he’s just acquired mattered far more than all the gains made in resistance skills thus far. Yes, resistances were nice, but gains in the quality of his body benefitted him in everything he did. It was an exceedingly difficult skill to train too, at least, without drawing a lot of attention. Orodan had only acquired one other level over the past three months.

He rose from the vat, alkahest pouring off him yet having no effect whatsoever. Just for testing’s sake, he cupped some and gulped down a mouthful.

Even sweeter than regular alkahest. The empowerment must have amplified the taste too as the metallic sensation was a hundred times stronger. It had Orodan idly wondering if he could empower food ingredients to amplify the taste. Though he’d have to watch how much energy was poured in lest he kill untrained civilians with the meal.

“A refreshing bath, and it tastes decent too when sampled directly from the vat, but I’ll have to look into making a more potent version.”

“A- a more potent version?! By the Gods… what even are you?”

“Someone looking to get in some good training.”

And mainly someone looking for a way to deal with his ultimate foe’s powers over light. Taking a bath in alkahest wasn’t just for the purposes of developing Acid Resistance. Orodan also took the opportunity to train Commandment of War.

It was a skill he had big plans for down the line.

But for now, just before he was due for a final session with Fenton, a certain irritating spider awaited.

The culmination of three months’ worth of training in Dimensionalism.

#

Sporting a top hat, monocle, cane and pocket watch; Talricto had a most arrogant look upon his arachnoid face.

And opposing him was Orodan, arms crossed, a look of determination and defiance upon his.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson and knock that stupid hat right off your head today.”

“Grown awfully overconfident, have you? Come, let me remind you who your betters are.”

Three months of getting beaten in spars. Three months of continually attempting to best this opponent.

For too long had Orodan been bullied by Talricto. He’d suffered defeat after defeat, all while holding back lest he claim a cheap win by simply overpowering the spider. But no more! Today, he would teach this arrogant bully what justice truly was! Talricto and his dumb top hat, monocle, cane and watch could sod right off!

Soul energy coursed through his body, and he could feel the pull of power upon his own soul as Talricto matched his generation via the Blessing he’d granted the spider.

Orodan stared at Talricto.

Talricto stared at Orodan.

Both their eyes narrowed.

Chaos erupted.

[Dimensionalism 82 → Dimensionalism 83]

Ten-thousand needle-like miniature dimensions exploded forth from Orodan’s hands, meeting the ten-thousand dimensional orbs fired by Talricto. The Blessing granted by Orodan had made the spider quite powerful.

His freeform dimensional assault struck Talricto’s head on, and the collision caused the nearby waves to be blown away for a mile. The abandoned island they were on shook, and he could see the wariness in Talricto’s eyes already. The spider must’ve known this fight would be a different one.

Still, this wasn’t a test of raw power, but a game of skill. The both of them had engaged in that initial clash as a means of sating their pride, but now the true test would begin.

Orodan wrapped a layer of dimensional force around his body, the very dimensional boundary shifting to accommodate him. And guiding these dimensional forces, he threw a straight punch towards his opponent, puppeteering his own form like marionette on a string.

Even as his fist was redirected, the dimensional control over his own body being tampered with, Talricto frowned. The punch and the forces guiding it must have been stronger than anticipated.

In their last duel a few days ago, Orodan had made the spider struggle, even in defeat. This time, with some new insights and inspiration, he intended to test himself once more.

Dimensionalism.

This was the key. He had been honing it over the past three months hoping to replicate what he’d achieved against Ur-Vah’sahn the Living Crystal. It was the necessary skill for bringing his elemental magic and martial might together in perfect synchronicity. It was the quintessential bridge between the two powerful aspects of his combat style. If he could bring it all together… then what occurred against the Living Crystal need not be an inconsistent fluke any longer.

Still, such a thing would first require perfecting the synchronicity between his body and dimensionalism, and then between dimensionalism and his elemental magic. Only then could the bridge be perfect.

Now as Orodan threw another fist towards Talricto, an unexpected but welcome message came.

[Unarmed Combat Mastery 98 → Unarmed Combat Mastery 99]

It was a level long due since he’d been practicing the puppeteering of his body through Dimensionalism. At first, Orodan had thought only his ability to manipulate the boundaries between dimensions would improve, but who knew that controlling his own body gave him a different perspective on it and allowed him to gain a level in fighting unarmed?

Multiple intersecting dimensional waves came crashing towards him, leaving him no way out, but his Transcendent Combat Mastery would not allow it. His fist the pick, the dimensional power manipulating his body the guide, and Talricto’s hostile waves the ore.

[Combat Mastery 116 → Combat Mastery 117]

[Mining 27 → Mining 28]

The intersection point, where all three waves were the weakest, was impossibly narrow and the timing to strike it accurately all too slim. Yet as Orodan’s dimensionally puppeteered fist struck… it hit true, and drilled right through with a crash of energies which scattered sand all about them.

“W-what on-”

The spider didn’t even have enough time to be surprised as Orodan continued, pressing the advantage.

It was the first time in three months that he’d actually won an exchange. Rare was the opponent who gave Orodan so much trouble, but he had to wholeheartedly admit that Talricto was likely a prodigy among a race of beings already possessed of an unfair advantage in the ways of dimensionalism.

Those damned waves had always given him the most trouble of them all. Numerous projectile attacks? Orodan had learned to create enough of his own, that with the backing of his powerful mind he could match them. Traps meant to draw him in with false openings? He had learned to recognize the patterns, having gained another level in Combat Mastery prior to the recent one when he did.

But the waves were like an inescapable net closing in, there was no easy escape from them. Worst of all, Talricto enjoyed intersecting them together into a singular point with no way out. Using Dimensional Step to dodge would’ve been weaselling away, akin to running. And simply brute forcing his way through would have been admitting defeat.

But now, he’d finally figured out the trick. Just as he’d shattered the attack of Avraxas, so too did he find the weakest point of Talricto’s dimensional waves. His strong, to the opponent’s weak. The concepts of swordplay applied in so many other places. Just as the strong of his blade could optimally hit the weak of his opponent’s, so too could the strong part of his own dimensional attack hit the soft spots of Talricto’s.

Be that as it may, his opponent wasn’t an amateur in the ways of dimensional combat. Talricto was a veteran combatant, and the shock was only because he was impressed with Orodan’s growth. The surprise quickly faded as more attacks came Orodan’s way. Additional waves of force meant to rigorously test whether he could reliably repeat the feat. Miniature dimensions the size of sand grains meant to explode upon contact, shot towards Orodan at odd intervals and angles. And false dimensional cages with pores meant to close in on him as they passed shot forth.

Yet, Orodan concentrated, battering all these assaults away as he advanced.

He broke the waves by hitting them at their weakest points yet again, ruptured the miniature dimensions by hitting them with his own needle-shaped bolts of dimensional force which popped them prematurely and simply sent waves of his own to wash away the false dimensional boundaries coming his way.

It was a battle of skill and finesse. And Orodan had lost it every single time thus far. Until now where he could finally break the waves and had at last passed the bottleneck.

Puppeteering himself with Dimensionalism, he rushed forth, hand outstretched most dangerously.

At the last moment Orodan felt a deft interference with the freeform dimensional manipulation he was performing upon himself, Talricto’s desperate last dregs of resistance at so close a range! But that was fine, for just before he had his puppeteering interrupted…

…Orodan used the remaining control over the dimensional force to throw his body directly towards Talricto.

“Cheat-!”

Gravity and momentum did the remainder of the job, even if his control was stripped. Talricto’s protest was interrupted as Orodan, having hurled himself like a projectile, knocked the hat right off the spider’s head.

“At last!” Orodan declared. “Your stupid hat has been knocked off! Let it never be said that Orodan Wainwright doesn’t keep his word!”

“You cheated! I tore the control of the dimensional forces from you!” Talricto immediately protested, angrily picking his hat up.

“Oh? So if I throw a projectile at you, but you strip the empowerment over it, only to still be hit, it’s cheating?” he asked in turn. “Accept your loss with dignity.”

“Using your entire body as a projectile doesn’t count!”

Orodan allowed the spider to bicker, protest and whine for another minute before finally speaking.

“You lost.”

“Hmm… I’ll not have it said that I’m an honorless cretin, under the conditions we agreed upon, I admit to my defeat,” Talricto said. “And… I suppose your performance was… good.”

“Good?” Orodan queried, surprised at the honest praise.

“Yes. If you were a hatchling dimensional spider, your talent would be considered quite decent. Don’t let it get to your head now,” Talricto warned and then turned away. “I suppose given that you are human… you’re quite the talent. Try to stay away from dimensional phase spider colonies, will you? You might just get abducted in all but name and strong-armed into marrying a brood-queen’s daughter. Or worse, cause a war between rivalling factions.”

That sounded like quite the headache. And he didn’t even want to know how such a marriage between human and spider would work.

Orodan however, felt a thrum of pride within. Three months of constant sparring, and his hard work had paid off to an extent. Yes, he still had a ways to go before he could truly bring his body into harmony with his freeform dimensionalism, but to reach the level of a dimensional phase spider hatchling within so short a timeframe?

And when not even a dimensional spider himself? It was excellent news.

Normally, he and the spider had a relationship of mutually reciprocated barbs and thorns, no heat involved, but rarely was anything nice said between the two of them.

“That was almost nice of you, my most wise and esteemed teacher,” Orodan said.

“Don’t let it get to your head. I was still holding back and not using a third of the more nefarious dirty tricks I could have been employing.”

Now Orodan was curious.

“Been holding back on me I see… I’m almost offended,” Orodan said, a vicious smile on his face. “Let’s go again.”

Which was when Talricto’s eyes took on a dangerous glint and he got serious.

Orodan had scant time to react as two separate dimensional tears opened up to the right and left of him. Blazing flames came forth from one, horrid frost colder than absolute stillness came out the other.

It wasn’t even a high-power move… just pure finesse and skill at work.

[Ice Resistance 38 → Ice Resistance 40]

“Opening gateways to elemental planes?” Orodan asked, being subjected to a dual elemental assault. “Considerate of you to pick two elements I’m used to.”

Thankfully his Fire Resistance was enough to mitigate most of the damage, rendering it mostly surface level. The ice too, despite doing more damage, was still manageable thanks to the resistance skill he had against it. Nonetheless, receiving two opposing blasts of elemental fury directly from the very planes they came from was no trivial matter.

As Alagameth had opened spatial rifts to summon monsters to drive towards him, so too was a dimensional spider like Talricto capable of opening pathways to some hazardous places.

“Tch! Of course, I do not want to kill you… but you forgot to mention just how high your resistance skills are!” Talricto protested. “It’s a matter of pride now. You claimed you’ll knock my hat off again today? Prove it.”

That was fine by Orodan.

“An impressive skill, the ability to open pathways to elemental planes of energy. Keep these open for long enough and we might even have high level fire and ice elementals come through. But I’ll have to thank you today… I wasn’t aware you could do that.”

“What are you-” Talricto paused himself, realization dawning in the spider’s eyes. “…you’re about to do something exceptionally Orodan-like aren’t you?”

Orodan-like? What was that

“It means exactly what it sounds like. I for one, am glad to see someone else understand the feeling.”

Zaessythra’s comments were put aside for now. He had two excellent sources of training in front of him.

[Commandment of War 45 → Commandment of War 47]

The fire and the ice were already pouring out the dimensional openings.

So Orodan simply called it all to come towards him. All the elemental power of each plane that was.

[Fire Resistance 59 → Fire Resistance 61]

[Ice Resistance 40 → Ice Resistance 42]

His flesh sizzled as heat greater than a star rushed to fill every pore. The life within his cells stilled, never to rise again as cold which could kill a God entered every part. And as the two met in-between, a harmony of fire and ice, the union caused grievous damage across his form. His cells were disintegrated and frozen in equal measure.

And a tenuous balance was reached for a scant few moments as the fire prevented him from being entirely frozen while the ice prevented him from being entirely burnt.

Of course, not all things were equal. Orodan’s Fire Resistance was higher than the corresponding skill for ice, and the deathly chill coming from the elemental plane of ice seemed a third stronger than the fire. Naturally, the ice began to overtake the flames after fifteen seconds.

[Ice Resistance 42 → Ice Resistance 44]

“This is… good training Talricto! Keep going!” Orodan demanded.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fighting me?” the spider asked, incredulous.

Was he? He’d forgotten all about that in the face of this excellent training method.

Unfortunately, Talricto looked as though he was struggling with the sheer volume of raw elemental power coming out the two pathways he had created. The spider, even with Orodan’s Blessing was trembling under the strain of just how much power Orodan was forcibly pulling through.

Eventually, Talricto was forced to let go and the gateways immediately exploded outwards, unable to handle so much energy going through them.

Orodan looked more than a little dejected.

“You oaf! If I had kept going the planetary sensors would have detected the dimensional anomaly! Do you know how difficult it is to sneak rifts of such power past the methods one might use to detect them?” Talricto lectured.

Ah, good thing then that the spider had enough foresight to avoid that, else this loop would have been entirely wasted. If anything, it was Orodan who had gotten carried away.

“We need to do this more often, Talricto. No, teacher, my most wise and esteemed tutor and legendary wanderer,” Orodan said, laying it on thick, so excited he was.

“Someone shows you one good training method and all of a sudden you’re bending over to thank them.”

Talricto sighed.

“Who else but you would suggest such a mad training regimen…”

This was exactly what he needed!

Drawing power from the elemental planes was the single quickest way to improve all his resistances. But most importantly, it exposed Orodan to the sight of an opponent drawing from them…

…and as he watched, he had an idea brewing in his head on how to deal with the looming enemy who had corrupted the elemental plane of light.

That was far into the future though. For now, his young protege’s training awaited.

#

A bullet tore through the air, followed by another aimed for his knee.

Orodan leaned out the way of the first and shifted his footwork to avoid the second.

“A good attempt, but if you’re hoping to get revenge for me kneecapping you all this time, you’ll need to do better than that,” Orodan said. “Even at the Apprentice-level, while a warrior won’t necessarily be faster than your bullet, they’ll certainly be quicker than your hand. Watching the squeeze of your finger lets me react well before the shot is fired and you can’t adjust.”

“Bugger…! Try this then!” Fenton shouted, empowering the next shot with a large amount of his mana pool.

Orodan responded by simply leaping to the side, avoiding the mighty bullet which could have killed an Elite. The lad’s gun, made by Fenton’s own hand, was powerful, as much as an Apprentice-level boy could handle. But that was about the extent of it.

Orodan had taught combat prodigies like Zukelmux before. He still had fond memories of the goblin. Unlike many who might’ve needed equipment, tactics or special abilities like a Bloodline or divine empowerment, Zukelmux had been capable of jumping a tier to fight through grit and skill alone. A true warrior through and through.

Fenton though, fond as Orodan was of the lad, wasn’t a combat prodigy. Which was fair, as not everyone could be good at everything. What the lad was capable of via Enchanting and Engineering, was balanced by the fact that fighting came rather stiffly to him.

Certainly, the young man had a dirty trick or two which Orodan approved of, and a certain viciousness born of living in scrap town which would get him far. But the lad’s talents lay in the crafts, not combat. Which was entirely fine, even if Orodan insisted Fenton learn how to fight anyways for his own sake.

“Calling out a mighty attack before you make it can only be done if you’re certain it’s going to land,” Orodan chided. “What’s the point of pouring all that mana into a bullet if I can just move out of the way thanks to your announcement?”

“Er… right you are ser. Got to work that habit out of me I do.”

“You’ve improved though, gotten stronger mentally and physically too,” Orodan said closing the distance suddenly, the wooden floorboards of the ship creaking as he stomped closer.

They were on a ship, out on the choppy waters near Port Bellgrave. Sparring in the fort’s training yard risked revealing Orodan’s identity and Fenton’s strength, and he wasn’t about to use Incipience of Infinity on everyone watching either.

The boy’s eyes widened as Orodan neared. Fenton wasn’t dumb, not overly eager to engage Orodan in melee combat. Fists and swords simply weren’t his style. He performed an athletic roll out of the way, the constant physical training helping even when it came to dodging and left behind a spherical object.

In the interest of honor and fair play, Orodan kept himself limited to Apprentice-level strength and speed, hence he stood there and took it as the enchanted grenade went off.

A blinding light flashed, accompanied with a shrill sound meant to disorient an attacker. And offensively it fired guided shrapnel towards him, along with a sticky form of alkahest which clung to the skin. At the Apprentice-level, martial specialists might not be fast enough to deflect the shrapnel or send it back. Hence, he lowered form and braced, taking the shrapnel and alchemical substance upon his shield.

The sticky alkahest was decently strong. The Apprentice-level Orodan at the start of the loops would have certainly lost his shield to it, might have eaten a bit of shrapnel too if the shield wasn’t raised quick enough. And even if he had… the shrapnel would have just punched through the cheap wood and slain the pre-loop him.

He shucked the sticky stuff off with raw force and then lowered his weapon, giving Fenton a nod.

“Not bad, we’ll consider that your win over the Apprentice-level Orodan Wainwright. Grenades are quite the difference maker,” he praised.

“Some of the soldiers ‘round the fort tell me that the best of the best on the front lines use somethin’ like it. Call it a flashbang they do, sends the plagueforms reelin’. I modified it to add a bit of shrapnel and alkahest is all.”

“A good trick to have. You might be able to best any Apprentice-level monsters thanks to your equipment. But are you good enough to leverage it against stronger enemies. Let’s try me fighting at the Adept-level now.”

“Bloody hell… this is goin’ to hurt, isn’t it?” Fenton asked, a face of grim acceptance.

“Only if you let it happen,” Orodan answered with a smile.

For fairness’ he gave the lad a healthy amount of space and let him reload all his weaponry. Only then did Orodan begin a mad dash for him.

The first few times they’d sparred, Fenton had been quite psychologically unnerved at the sight of a towering muscle-bound warrior doing a mad sprint for him. The lad had been sent flying into walls and lost enough spars before learning to remain calm.

Now though, a particularly powerful shot tore through the air, making for his head.

It was easily avoided. The bullet was quick enough, but the wielder of the gun was not.

“Your trigger motions are too obvious and readable. Either conceal them or train your hands to be faster,” Orodan said, smashing Fenton into the wall of the ship’s cabin with a shield bash. Dust and debris erupted in a barely visible mist as the wooden wall cracked but held.

Such a blow would have killed him before Orodan’s arrival. The boy had made gains.

Fenton spat blood and had the wind knocked out of him, but recovered well, scrambling to the side while dropping two of the so-called flashbang grenades. Fenton had been put through his paces during Orodan’s training sessions. Beatings, spars and physical conditioning galore. And while the lad might not have been a frontline fighter, being in shape and honing Physical Fitness helped everyone.

Still, Orodan had seen grenades enough times over the last three months to know how they worked. He viciously kicked the ground, sending both of them, alongside a shower of wooden splinters, towards the escaping Fenton.

His student’s eyes widened, barely activating an amulet around his neck. The defensive mana barrier emerged in time for Fenton’s own thrown flashbangs to erupt across it. The shrapnel pinged off the barrier with a thrum, but the alkahest clung and chewed right through it.

“The delay before those things erupt can be used against you, and most fighters won’t be stupid enough to ignore suspiciously dropped objects,” Orodan lectured. “But I’ll admit, it’s a nice touch having that alkahest chew through barriers. Good way to deal with pesky mages.”

He charged in once more, taking advantage of Fenton’s distraction of having to deal with his own grenades. The boy rolled away, only for Orodan to intercept, kicking mid-roll and sending him skipping along the ground like a pebble.

“Don’t roll so often. It’s good in certain situations but takes you off your feet and is easily intercepted. Better to stay primed for movement and evade normally,” Orodan instructed, rushing in and delivering three swift cuts which caused sprays of blood to go flying about. “Are you just going to run away while I carve you up? Your blood’s going to run out at some point.”

Harsh training, but effective and necessary. Too many of these soldiers of Lonvoron would succumb to panic if wounded in melee, used to only pulling a trigger as they were. On Alastaia, getting used to the sharp agony of a wound and being inured to at least some of the violence of melee combat was mandatory for even the county militia. The boy’s mother had nearly fainted when Orodan had done it for the first time but had calmed upon him healing her son.

Fenton himself had certainly been shell-shocked and paralyzed with fear the first time around. But now, a grunt of adrenaline-masked pain came forth, but the young man didn’t panic and instead returned fire at close range with his revolver, forcing Orodan to take a step back.

“Not bad, you’ve learned to embrace the violence,” Orodan said lunging in once more, sword poised to stab the boy. “Is that all Fenton? Surely you aren’t going to roll over and die if an Adept-level plague-ridden monster shows up, right?”

Fenton had a mad smile on his face.

Orodan frowned as the boy offered little resistance to the stab, only shifting so it wasn’t too horrid a wound. A classic feint, but he respected the lad’s decisiveness and so let him have it.

And as the sword impaled Fenton, Orodan could sense a ring upon his finger activating.

The mana drain was immediate and apparent, taking nearly three-fourths of the boy’s reserves in a singular swoop. He’d trained the lad over the last three months and had gotten his mana pool to a respectable size for even an Adept. For it to deplete so quickly…?

Orodan found out why in the form of space folding in front of him, compressing inwards. With his sword buried in Fenton’s shoulder, he didn’t have room to dodge either. And wasn’t this…

…his move?

The compressed space exploded outwards, the enchantment on Fenton’s ring ensuring it was towards Orodan and not him. And even though Orodan didn’t defend or resist at all, the force of it was enough that even his powerful body was pushed back an inch through inertia.

He actually had to whip a hand out, using spatiomancy to prevent the stray force of the spatial explosion from destroying the entire boat.

Fenton looked exhausted, pale from significant blood loss, but the lad had a pleased grin on his face.

A casual reversal of time reverted the damage, and Orodan had a pleased smile on his face as he sheathed his weapons and gave a light bow.

“I believe that’s my defeat,” Orodan said, quite amused. “Who taught you that?”

“You did Mister Orodan. Heard you talkin’ about that otherworldly adventure of yours where you squeezed space like dough and made it explode, and I got the idea in me head. Enchanted this ring after that.”

Impressive. To be capable of making an enchantment so efficient that it could create a spatial fold capable of destroying an entire building. That enchantment could kill an Adept and at least severely wound even a tough Elite. Looking at it, Orodan could barely fathom the enchantment.

Having access to physical training which improved his ability to stay awake and require less sleep, and harsh mental and magical training which expanded his mana pool, alongside tutelage on enchanting fundamentals… Fenton had already surpassed Orodan in enchanting. This was talent, something the lad was made for.

“You cheeky brat! Listened to my story and decided you would give it a try, eh?” Orodan said, fondness in his tone. He reached out and gave the boy’s hair a good ruffle. “Good work! Quite decisive of you to accept a deadly blow for the opportunity to strike a finishing attack upon me.”

“Of course one battle-obsessed maniac would praise another… have you ever considered that you’re not the best influence on him?”

“I don’t think he takes after me that much.” Orodan countered.

“Orodan… the boy goes around trying to find deranged methods of training just like you do.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“It isn’t… but I hope he doesn’t take after your worst aspects too. You have a time loop, Fenton doesn’t.”

That much he could agree with. His hands were stained with far too much blood, and he was often quick to anger and mete out judgement in his way while stubbornly refusing to consider other viewpoints. Most concerning was his disregard for his own life, which made sense given he was the one in a time loop and held confidence in his ability to triumph.

Fenton would be better served modelling him a little less in certain respects.

“Mister Orodan? Somethin’ on your mind ser?”

“Nothing… just try to avoid lethal gambits like that if you can, alright? No do-overs for you if you’re killed.”

“Of course I don’t want to leave my mum behind, but if it’s all I can do… I might not have a choice in the matter ser.”

A realistic outlook. More and more Orodan felt the lad was similar to him in mentality and upbringing.

“You’re far too young to be saying such things… but again, I suppose I was too, and the cold hand of destiny cares not how old we are when it bestows misfortune upon us,” Orodan said. “Now then… before we set sail you said you wanted to show me something.”

“Right, have a look at this ser.”

Fenton brought out a fish from a sack and put it upon an examination table.

“A little small and subpar for use in a stew… maybe if I ground the bones down for broth and-”

No, no! I’m not talkin’ about cooking ser, much as I’m a glutton for your food. Look at the inscriptions.”

The inscriptions? Orodan looked, and then he saw what the lad was referring to.

Enchanting pathways, perfectly crafted, flowed through this dead fish’s flesh.

“I don’t understand this…” Orodan muttered. “No, wait… body enchanting?”

“Truth be told. I didn’t understand it either ser, came up with it from scratch after you told me about the concept. Real volatile and full of risk it is,” Fenton protested in return. “But it’s not as difficult as you think.”

Coming from the single greatest enchanting talent he’d ever seen, Orodan felt the lad’s statement lacked a bit of self-awareness.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“I mention body enchanting one time, and you have it in your head that it’s something you need to teach me… might you remind me why you’re so insistent upon this?”

“You’re askin’ too many questions Mister Orodan! Just focus on the fish I have here,” Fenton said, prodding at it with gloved hands. “You’ve done me a good turn, now it’s my chance to repay the favor is all.”

Orodan smiled.

“I didn’t do what I did so you could repay me…”

“Well I want to, so that’s that ser,” Fenton declared. “As you can see, the inscription goes through the body, almost functionin’ like veins. Got to make sure it follows an even path through the flesh though, don’t want your arm explodin’ from a blockage and mana overload.”

It was an experience most surreal. To be learning from the student he’d been teaching since not three months ago. Of course, Fenton’s talent in the art had allowed him to quickly grasp levels and advance at a breakneck pace. Most importantly, even if the lad was still only an Elite-level enchanter, the insights and comprehensions he had of the art were on another level entirely.

Long ago, in his early loops Orodan had considered the idea of body enchanting upon Alastaia. He was supposed to have learned from Master Gormir Eltros at Bluefire Academy. Of course, at the time he still hadn’t met the pre-requisites for it and that particular loop had been full of misery and misfortune in general.

Yet here and now it was Fenton Penny, the prodigy of Enchanting, who was attempting to teach him about body enchanting. And he hadn’t even learned it from Orodan, mainly because Orodan himself didn’t know what the skill exactly entailed. The boy had learned from the ground up, coming upon the skill and reinventing it from scratch over the past three months.

What was Body Enchanting?

He genuinely didn’t know because he had no academic foundation to base any comparison off of. Instead, he’d worked with Fenton during the boy’s process of perfecting the art of regular enchanting and had stringently advised the lad on sticking to the difficult but rewarding ways of doing things. Fenton himself had also embraced Orodan’s ethos, and as a result there were no shortcuts, only a dogged insistence on perfectionism.

Looking at the fish before him, Orodan had to admit the mindset had paid off. He hadn’t seen such intricate inscriptions upon anyone’s flesh, even on Alastaia where he’d seen body enchantments before.

“I understand the basic concept of it, creating a mana pathway of your own through the body. But it looks user-powered rather than self-powered. The mana of the wielder can be a bit volatile and not always compatible with the enchantment, how does it not fade or wear out?” Orodan asked.

“Simple enough ser, through an enchantment of permanence,” Fenton explained, drawing Orodan’s attention towards a particular part. Of course said enchantment could be used that way, how obvious… for a genius. “You can have permanent body enchantments if you want, but… I get a feelin’ you’re not the type to be satisfied with just that.”

His student, or rather, his Enchanting teacher, had predicted correctly. What was the point of a permanent body enchantment? What if he wanted to improve upon it further? More importantly though, during intense battles Orodan often suffered severe damage. The loss of limbs, the destruction of most of his body; sure he reformed after, but any enchantments painstakingly applied would be lost within the first bad exchange.

Better not to rely upon power he couldn’t keep in all situations. At the very least he’d have to learn how to reform such an enchantment on the fly.

“Right. I’m definitely not about to rely on a fancy enchantment which will be rendered defunct the moment my arm’s cut off,” Orodan added.

“I figured you wouldn’t. Which is why… a living enchantment might work better,” Fenton said, taking his gloves off.

Orodan’s eyes homed in on the inscriptions. This quality was…!

“Profound… it’s like a living organism of enchantment within you,” Orodan said.

“Aye Mister Orodan. This one’s a storage space in fact, dimensional like your ring,” Fenton explained. “It’s adaptable too, grows with me and doesn’t interfere with me mana circuits.”

The main problem with body enchanting, Orodan and Fenton had discovered, was the interference the body’s natural flow of mana and the enchantment itself.

What’s worse was that upon Alastaia, mages and those quite in-tune with their mana simply couldn’t get body enchantments. Their mana pools were too large, their mana circuits attuned to a particular element or flowing too quickly. Any mistake in the application of a body enchantment and fatal results could occur. It was why Orodan had only ever seen body enchantments on a few martial specialist members of the Cathedral and civilians, such as the registrar for Bluefire Academy.

They didn’t use mana, thus body enchantments carried far less risk for them. Even Master Gormir Eltros in Bluefire Academy, the best in the Republic at the art, only took warriors and non-mages as clients from what Orodan had heard.

Needless to say, any inscription upon the body had to be exceptionally well-crafted, which meant Fenton’s work was doubly so. Orodan had taught the lad quite a number of spells over the prior three months, so he knew that Fenton was far too attuned to magic to be using body enchantments the way people on Alastaia did.

“How long have you been working on that one? Is this what you’re up to when your mother tells you to get some sleep?” Orodan asked.

“Er… you won’t tell her, right?” Fenton asked and Orodan nodded. “Been workin’ on it for over a month now!”

“Hmm… not bad at all. Your mother’s likely to give your hide a good tanning if she learns about it, and it’s risky stuff which could have blown your hands off too.”

“But then you’d just put me back together ser.”

“An unsafe mentality to adopt. This life is your only one… but I can respect your guts Fenton. Can’t get anywhere without taking some risks,” Orodan said. “But use your hidden time in bed to practice something a little less volatile. From now on, you’ll work on body enchanting in my presence lest any accidents occur. Plus, it will also help me learn the art.”

Orodan had to admit he was a poor caretaker for the youth. If he’d had his way, Fenton would be training at all hours of the day, even in his sleep. Fanny Penny of course vehemently insisted her son get some time to himself for rest. And yet this stubborn lad had gone and used even that spare time to work on body enchanting as a project?

Quite respectable!

“I can get with that ser. Now shall we continue looking at the body enchantment?”

They looked over the fish and a few other animals Fenton had added living enchantments to, but while Orodan understood the concept well enough… he just didn’t want to acquire a mere Living Enchantment skill. Several times he felt the sealed central knowledge rune of his own System flare, indicating that he had learned enough to acquire a skill fairly, but Orodan wanted it not. It wasn’t that Orodan didn’t want body enchantments, but that he needed them to be powered by a different source entirely.

Mana-based enchanting wasn’t what he needed.

“Say, Fenton… you’re a genius right? Do you think you could make this work with soul energy instead?”

“A genius? I have a hard time wrappin’ me head around things just as much as anyone else, Mister Orodan,” Fenton said, causing Orodan to lament the lack of self-awareness that his empty-headed savant of a student had. “But soul energy? That’s the glowing stuff that surrounds you whenever you’re doin’ some impressive magic, right?”

“Aye. You think an enchantment fuelled by that only could work?”

“Hmm… it’s a strange sort o’ energy, that’s for sure. I’m used to mana, but soul energy? Not a clue ser,” Fenton admitted. “For starters, I’m using mana to inscribe my enchantments, but whoever’s weaving a soul energy enchantment would have to use that or else the flow won’t be quite as good. A mana-powered enchantment needs to have the pathways and inscriptions be woven with mana, or else the incompatibility will cause problems. I bet that’s the case for soul energy too.”

That made sense. Fenton had identified the first problem, which was that a typical mana-based enchanter who wrote the inscriptions with liquid mana and imprinted them simply wouldn’t be as successful. Mana flowed well through enchantments written with mana. Vitality and life force flowed well through the nefarious enchantments he’d seen Alastaian cultists use, which were written in blood.

Then, how could an enchantment powered by soul energy work?

He recalled his memory of a certain artifact he’d seen upon Eldiron.

“Yes, a soul is what powers this wand,” Orodan said. “The nature of the enchantment is quite sickening, in all honesty, but that explains why the devil-script language works at all despite the lack of a living thing.”

After all, from what he knew, the enchanting language of the hells was dark and required life to function. Frankly, the only thing stopping Orodan from just ripping the wand apart to free this thing was that he could sense it was slumbering and not being actively tortured.

He had met with one of the elven Gods, Athandelu, back then. If soul energy-based enchantments required life to function… then Orodan could fill that role easily enough. And as for a material? He knew one which could fill the gap.

Something he’d used to reforge his own System.

Orodan’s hands were brought together near his chest as the familiar white glow of his soul enveloped the ship.

Material made of his very soul, borne of his very physical and metaphysical essence. Existing in both the material plane and outside of it. The System within his soul, all the glyphs and runes, were composed of it.

But what else could this do? Especially in the hands of a never-before-seen talent?

“If it’s soul energy you need to make such an enchantment… how about this Fenton?” Orodan asked, handing him a bundle of the glowing essence which was still malleable.

“This… is quite the stuff. Is this what a soul feels like, Mister Orodan? Almost like what’s in my hands is limitless…” Fenton muttered. “Where’d you get this from?”

“My soul,” Orodan answered. “This is soul weave, it’s what the System within me is made of.”

“Soul weave? Damn… what a bright thing it is, can barely look at it without turnin’ blind as a bat,” Fenton muttered, yet focused. “If this stuff’s what made the System… then isn’t the System just one big enchantment ser?”

That…

…was a very good point actually.

Hmm, perhaps the lad could have a look at what Orodan had done with his. Who knew what improvements could be made.

#

They’d trained and discussed for a while, with lots of intriguing theories and concepts exchanged between the two of them.

Yet, grand things never came about in the span of a day. Even Fenton admitted that he would need more time before being able to consider the idea of a successful soul-powered body enchantment. Furthermore, Orodan didn’t want to overload his student’s plate when he had something coming up which would decide the future of Lonvoron.

Orodan already planned on using Fenton as a sounding board and mentor as he learned soul-powered body enchantments himself. As he’d been the teacher, so too would he be the student. After all, a good teacher was always in the process of learning new things themselves.

And he also needed to teach Fenton about the soul, train the lad’s proficiency in it and give him a good foundation in the art. Being phenomenal at Enchanting counted for only half the task when entirely unfamiliar with the medium of it.

“Souls are both physical and in another dimension then? A little odd…” Fenton muttered.

“In a sense it is, but this dual-existence is what allows the power of the System to flow through people, granting them skill levels, knowledge and gains. Soul energy and souls themselves certainly exist in the material plane too, but it’s a fine balance, with life being the anchor maintaining this state,” Orodan explained. “When death occurs… the soul loses its anchor in the physical world and crosses the dimensional boundary, pulled towards the nearest soul nexus.”

“So we can’t make any soul-energy powered enchantments without learnin’ about Dimensionalism, can we?”

[Teaching 72 → Teaching 73]

Another excellent point. Of course dimensionalism needed to be involved in any potential soul energy-based enchantment.

Fenton was a good student. In training him over the past three months, Orodan had become a Teaching Elite. Which ironically made him a better insructor than most of the ones he’d encountered on Alastaia. Even on Bluefire, instructors were chosen for their personal skill in a subject and didn’t often make the best teachers themselves.

Of course, personal proficiency was necessary to an extent, but the ability to impart lessons and training was also a skill that mattered.

“You’re not wrong Fenton. But enough of that, we can pick this discussion up at a later time. For now, we have work to do,” Orodan said as they entered the west tower. “Today’s the deadline for the project is it not?”

“Aye ser, we’re sure to win Mister Clyburn the competition aren’t we?” Fenton asked, slipping his mother’s quiled coat back on now that the spar was over. “The crown’s inspector will lose their mind they will!”

Having seen what one of the rival projects at Castle Ironpeak looked like, Orodan wasn’t too concerned. Not when Fenton had altered the core enchantments from the ground up, turning the pillar into his own passion project. Alongside Orodan’s help with the Blacksmithing and labor, he doubted Clyburn’s submission for the competition would face any hurdle at all.

Still, best not to get a big head.

“Our hard work will determine our success… and given how much effort you’ve put into this, I can’t see it going wrong,” Orodan said. “Stay focused and your results will speak for themselves.”

In terms of quality, he doubted anyone on Lonvoron had Fenton’s knack for enchanting beat. And if any last-minute schemes were attempted? Orodan would deal with the offenders himself.

The first floor of the west tower was dramatically different to how it used to look. There was no clutter, no stressed faces and no angry barking whatsoever. Clyburn’s engineers moved around with spirit and a sense of purpose as they ran a battery of tests. That being said, the tower was a lot more crowded though, with dramatically less space for foot traffic.

Why? Because instead of a singular pillar, there were two.

Orodan was industrious and tireless. In tandem with Fenton Penny’s skill at Enchanting and Engineering, he’d just finished the first pillar, but built a second one from the ground up. Not only were both pillars forged to a level unattainable upon Lonvoron, but they were also immaculately inscribed with glowing lines of enchantment by the hand of the finest enchanter Orodan had ever seen.

Singular wispy threads of inscription, all coming together to form a complete enchantment. Inscribing such a complex and mind-boggling work on even a dagger would have seen Fenton kidnapped and developed into an asset nations would go to war over on Alastaia. Doing it for an entire two pillars? Even with Orodan’s stringent training and recovery, the lad needed frequent breaks. That was what had taken them most of the three month deadline.

If Lord Morvale knew what was inside the west tower, the arrogant noble would almost certainly resort to direct force and criminal methods of taking the project down. Though if the crown knew what this was capable of before that… tampering with this would be akin to a death sentence.

Nonetheless, before them, within the tower were two looming pillars of the finest hand-smithed steel. Orodan had worked tirelessly to personally forge and pour his care into each and every inch of them. The Blackworth Collective’s industrial metallurgy didn’t compare to his Blacksmithing, even if it was but at the Adept-level. And these two devices were sturdy and more than capable of tolerating a very high amount of stress.

Which allowed Fenton to take additional liberties with the enchantments he placed upon them.

“I can’t believe we’ve come this far… when I first drafted up the blueprints and submitted my bid for a slot upon this research project, I never thought it would get anywhere…” Clyburn Anderthorn muttered, gazing at the two pillars. The man was far less stressed. Lately, he didn’t even bark at anyone, instead calmly asking them to help or do something. “And then you and Fenton took that even further. With your metallurgy and Fenton’s Enchanting, I altered the blueprints in a way any other guild master would laugh at. By all reason this pillar should fall apart from the stresses it’s expected to bear.”

“And yet, it shall not. You’ve seen for yourself the strength of this metal, we’ve run some preliminary tests already, have we not?” Orodan asked. “Let the crown’s assessor come. With how powerful this device is… I do not think they’ll have the courage to interfere with it lest their heads go rolling.”

The main difference between Clyburn’s original pillar and the newly made version, was the sheer resilience of something whose metalcraft was at minimum, Adept-level. Orodan had then gone and frozen the particles solid before using Domain of Perfect Cleaning to nudge them into perfect alignment before setting them in place. Of course, Fenton had to enchant as Orodan forged, lest the tough metal be entirely unmalleable once ready.

The result was a monstrosity even an artillery volley could not dent. It was so utterly sturdy that Fenton felt quite comfortable inscribing upon it enchantments that would place a great deal more stress on it than the original blueprints were meant to tolerate. Before, the pillar was projected to be capable of draining the surrounding hundred miles.

Now? Who knew what it was capable of.

“Well, I suppose we should fit the final piece in,” Orodan said. “Entirely symbolic that we’ve held off on it for this long, but better we present two complete devices to the assessor than one.”

“It’s a tradition in inventing circles, to hold off on putting a final piece in until the last moment. Adds to the accomplishment,” Clyburn explained, then turning to the other engineers in the room. “Come! Let’s see our hard work realized! Gather around!”

Orodan’s hand hammered onto a small piece of metal, heating it into shape and then letting it cool.

[Blacksmithing 68 → Blacksmithing 69]

A cast of ice magic followed.

[Flash Freeze 39 → Flash Freeze 40]

And two minutes passed as Orodan nudged each particle into perfect alignment before finally setting it to be incorruptible.

“Ready Fenton?” Orodan asked, handing him the completed piece. “Last one, try not to stumble.”

The lad rolled his eyes.

“I’ve yet to stumble at all ser,” he said, beginning the enchanting process as his hands hovered above the perfectly forged metallic piece.

It was tiny, the smallest one Orodan had forged in all honesty. Fenton had enchanted bigger pieces in one go without stopping, so it was no surprise that the work was done within five minutes.

Fenton then handed it to the project’s lead engineer.

“This… this will be the culmination of our work!” Clyburn declared, and then looked at the two of them. “To Mister Wainwright! Whose exotic smithing techniques have allowed us to succeed! And, to Fenton Penny whose enchantments have brought it all together beyond even what my original vision could foresee!”

The engineers whooped and hollered as Clyburn Anderthorn put the final piece into the slot dedicated for it…

…and a wave of energy suffused the room as the overarching enchantment of the pillar was brought together.

Powerful. Orodan had an inkling that these modified pillars of purification might be capable of draining the plague, at minimum, on a continental scale.

“And I believe the crown’s man is coming through as we speak,” Orodan informed, watching the fort’s gate open with Vision of Purity.

“Right. Clear the room and make it presentable, we’re sure to make a good impression today!” Clyburn instructed.

Soon enough, the crown’s assessor, one of the men in charge of evaluating the competing projects in this endeavor, walked through the tower doors.

Orodan got a vague feeling that this was a slimy man. His soul certainly had that tell-tale shifty feeling he’d come to associate with liars and those of poor character. The assessor took one look at the device and frowned.

“Clyburn Anderthorn. Is this your project?”

“Yes, it is. I’m afraid I don’t recognize you… I was under the impression that crown assessors were supposed to be high ranking members of the royally sponsored guild,” Clyburn said.

“Count Clearwater has taken ill and was unable to meet the commitment. He appointed me in his stead.”

“That is most… unorthodox. Projects completed on behalf of the crown have the right of assessment by the crown’s appointed assessors, do they not? You bear the seal but have no experience in such matters,” Clyburn protested.

“Fine by me. I can just walk away and mark you down as requesting a proper assessor,” the man said, smirking.

“No! That will not be necessary, come have a look!”

Orodan felt the man was doubtlessly suspicious. Having grown up in Ogdenborough, he knew the look of a dog on someone’s payroll about to conduct criminal business on their master’s behalf.

“Right then… this is your device? I was told you had a singular one…” the assessor muttered.

“We had enough spare time that we built two. You can look at either and will no doubt be quite satisfied,” Clyburn explained.

“Enough time to build two? Building more of a subpar product will not help you, you realize?”

Clyburn looked angry, yet Orodan put a hand on his shoulder to calm him and caution against acting rashly. Under the effects of Incipience of Infinity, the assessor couldn’t see him. Now that Orodan was quite suspicious of the man he planned on tailing him after.

Besides, the work would speak for itself.

“Incidentally, this metal’s quite odd. Where did you get it?” the assessor asked, eyes narrowed. “Enchantments don’t look as though they would take well to this material. I might have to mark you as insufficient based off this al-”

The man suddenly stopped speaking, and Orodan smiled.

Assessors came with differing sets of expertise. This one was quite obviously crooked, perhaps arranged by a rival or with motives of their own, but even then, the man didn’t seem to be experienced in Engineering. But, that wasn’t the case for Enchanting.

“Like what you see?” Fenton asked, shaking the man out of his stupor.

“W-what is this? Who wove these enchantments?” the assessor asked frantically.

“Unfortunately, we cannot divulge internal affairs to those outside the project,” Clyburn recited. “If it’s to your satisfaction, might we know your assessment?”

“This is…! I… I must speak to my superior before I can give you a determination.”

“Incorrect. By crown law all assessments on royal projects must provide their determination on the spot, alongside documentation of it,” the lead engineer said. “Your assessment please ser.”

The assessor looked as though he’d swallowed a bitter pill. As though the man was unwilling to mark the project as good.

Hastily, the man signed a paper and threw it towards Clyburn.

“I must be going now, farewell.”

Soon as the man left, Clyburn looked at Orodan.

“Exceeds expectations. He didn’t even ask how it works or request a preliminary test,” Clyburn said. “But I doubt that will be the last of our problems.”

“Aye, he’s most certainly bought by someone,” Orodan said “As for who, I’m going to find out.”

“Tailin’ scoundrels again ser? Can I come with?” Fenton asked.

“That would be highly irresponsible of me Fenton. What would your mother think of me dragging you into trouble?” Orodan asked. And then flashed a devious smile. “But if you want to tag along, who am I to stop you?”

Fenton took the hint for what it was and scrambled to follow Orodan as he set off.

He would normally be opposed to having anyone tag along, but for Fenton it would be good training.

He and the lad made their way out the fort normally, getting past the gates of the island’s port town too. Known as Luetta Treadway’s assistant, Orodan had no problem getting in and out of port town. With the soldiers often speaking about her strange assistant, the locals were almost amenable towards him even.

Nearer to the docks however, Orodan slowed.

“He’s headed into the portside alehouse. What’s an assessor of the crown doin’ in that dungheap?” Fenton asked as the two of them stood a distance away, turning into an alleyway.

“Dungheap? I’ve seen far shantier taverns where I come from,” Orodan said. “Not familiar with local custom. Is it uncommon for him to be there?”

“Aye ser. Assessor like him should be roomin’ at the fort or be on his ship and about his business. He’s got the bearing of a blue-blood he does, his kind don’t frolick ‘round there,” Fenton said. “Quite odd. We should follow him Mister Orodan.”

“I concur, but let’s wait to see what he does. I’m not exactly inconspicuous if I were to head in,” Orodan reminded. “Better I remain outside. Mundane walls and obstacles don’t prevent me from seeing or hearing what I seek.”

Fenton nodded.

The assessor simply entered the alehouse, walked past the sailors and merchants enjoying drinks, and headed right upstairs. It seemed the man had a room booked too.

Orodan tapped Fenton on the shoulder, indicating the lad should follow. The assessor’s room was on the backside of the alehouse, near a garden with a decently tall wall around it. Orodan leapt over it, landing on the other side, waiting for Fenton to also kick off the wall to scale it and come over.

“Imagine if you tried scaling that wall before all the training I put you through.”

“Wouldn’t have gone too well ser… I see the benefits of rigorous exercise now,” Fenton said.

They got nearer to the wall, on the ground just underneath the room’s window on the third floor.

“Nobody in the room with him. He’s bringing out a communications amulet though,” Orodan said. “Might not be able to get the full conversation… what’s that Fenton?”

Orodan’s words were cut off by the sight of a small foot-long metallic pole Fenton had brought out and deployed upon the ground.

“That won’t be a problem ser.”

It was an intricately enchanted pole too. And from the inscriptions upon the metal…

“Will that let us trace where the mana leads to?” Orodan asked. “I’ve traced such tethers before, a device won’t be necessary.”

“Right you are Mister Orodan, but this thing will let us listen in on the conversation too.”

Was this why the lad had wanted to come along? To test his new device?

“Is this why you were so insistent on accompanying me?”

“Little bit… but then I heard from Mister Talricto about your escapades at Castle Ironpeak and wanted to join in too,” Fenton said. “This is rather fun!”

“Not every clandestine adventure is safe or fun… but I suppose you have enough of a level head to know that already,” Orodan remarked with a smile.

With a gleam, the pole activated as Orodan watched the enchantment produce a singular wispy tendril which hung onto the tether between the assessor’s communications amulet and its counterpart. The audio coming out of the pole was crystal clear too.

This was some fantastic enchanting work. Even skilled communications specialists with all the time in the world wouldn’t have been able to replicate the feat on Alastaia.

“About time. Were you followed? Are you in an unwarded area?”

It certainly sounded like Lord Morvale, laying to rest the question of who’d paid off the assessor.

“No my lord, no pursuers. I’ve booked a room at the alehouse as you recommended. The last place they would suspect me to inhabit,” the paid saboteur said.

“Well? Report. Did you give his project a black mark? Your boss in the Storven Steelmaker Engineer’s Guild has assured me they’ll bury his submission as long as it has a poor assessment on paper.”

“That is… we have run into complications…”

“Complications? Speak plainly!” the voice of Lord Morvale sounded. “What do you mean by complications?”

“I did not expect the quality of Clyburn Anderthorn’s work to be so extraordinary… Lord Morvale, you gave us incorrect information!” the assessor hissed. “To put anything less than stellar down on my assessment would be guaranteeing eventual imprisonment for myself once the crown discovers just how potent that device is.”

“You exaggerate! How can something of halfway decent quality cause you so much trouble? Promising projects are buried beneath the tides of bureaucracy all the time,” the voice of Lord Morvale angrily barked.

“Respectfully, my lord, to refer to that thing as ‘halfway decent’ would make anything you’ve produced be trash not worth touching,” the assessor venomously complained, his anger apparent.

“Mind your tongue lest I inform your Duke of your insubordination!”

“My lord, Duke Trevelain and the guild will not be happy about the mess you nearly got us into. You can expect a word from him after this,” the assessor said.

“You…! Fine, fine. I shall smooth things over with the Duke; ever have I been a loyal supporter of his,” Lord Morvale placated. “As for Clyburn… you may tell me further details about his pillar of purification once you return. If need be, there are accidents which can dispose of him and his work.”

The communication cut off shortly after.

“Damned, arrogant fool. That bloody device could change the entire war, and he wants me to die by trying to suppress it? To hell with all this… I’m returning to Storven,” the man muttered to himself. “Duke Trevelain can hear about this from me first…”

Fenton was frowning as he packed his device up and placed it back into his own dimensional storage enchantment. Orodan first directed the lad to clear the scene before they discussed the matter.

They scaled the backwall and were out of port town and near the fort before they spoke.

“They’re going to try and assassinate us Mister Orodan!” Fenton exclaimed. “I’m no stranger to someone tryin’ to rough me up, or get me with a shiv in an alley, but assassins? They’ll kill me before I even realize I’m meant to be fightin’ for my life! What’re my mother and I to-

Orodan’s hand upon his head stilled the boy.

“Easy Fenton. Nobody will be assassinating you while I’m around. Bullets fired by a Transcendent? I’ll intercept them. Eldritch monstrosities? I’ll slay them. You just focus on getting better at your enchanting. Soon enough, you’ll be stopping them yourself.”

The boy stilled for a moment, a hundred different thoughts going through his mind, and then finally deflated.

“I don’t even care about meself, just keep my mother safe please…” Fenton muttered.

Fenton was normally an aloof and determined lad, capable of keeping it together. But when the boy’s mother came into the picture he naturally became anxious and fretful. A good son, concerned about his mother more than himself.

Of course, Fanny Penny would naturally ask the same of him but in reverse, so there would be no resolution to that circular argument.

“You can make body enchantments, a ring capable of causing a spatial fold explosion, and a device capable of listening in on a communications amulet. I think, Fenton, soon you can protect your mother yourself,” Orodan remarked. “Now then, we have preparations to make. The dead zone isn’t a pleasant place and Clyburn will need to be prepared.”

“T-the dead zone? On the front lines? But I’m not a soldier…”

Ironic coming from the lad who had been fighting on the front lines the very first time Orodan had visited Lonvoron.

“Who asked you to come with? The device, however, will be going into the dead zone for a test run, as are Clyburn’s competitors and their respective projects,” Orodan explained. “Been a while since I’ve fought the plague. And while I can’t go too crazy, I’m sure it will be a good fight.”

“You’re going too…?”

“Of course. Who else will protect Clyburn from sabotage?”

“Oh I know that look… his mother won’t be pleased.”

#

“Absolutely not. Over my dead body!”

“But mum! I can’t let Misters Orodan and Clyburn go alone!”

“Fenton! Do you know how dangerous the…”

Orodan gave the mother and son their privacy, opting to step out the guest house. Some battles Fenton would have to fight for himself.

The concept of having to acquire his mother’s approval was a foreign one to Orodan, who’d grown up an orphan. If he wanted something, he went out and got it or returned empty-handed having received a beating in the process. And once he came of age by Inuanan standards, who else could tell him what to do?

Whether he lived or died, starved or thrived was within Orodan’s own hands upon turning fourteen years of age. From then until he was seventeen, when the time loops began, life had been a constant struggle for survival and self-betterment, the price paid in sweat, blood and hard work.

Outside, were Talricto and Luetta.

“Why… you’re possessed of such a noble mien and regal character esteemed ser spider. I can’t believe you’ve brought me this many gifts…” Luetta said with a most pretentious giggle. “How is a lady supposed to feel when she’s courted so directly? I must admit, our pairing would be more than a little unorthodox, but the threads of fate are bringing us together.”

“Indeed, destiny has meant for you to find yourself working under me. While I might seem quite distant from you, legendary figure that I am, I’m not above rewarding my most humble and loyal followers. You’ve aided my hard-working student, and now I bestow gifts unto you for your loyal service.”

“L-loyal service…? No that’s not what I-”

“Orodan! There you are! As your master I’m quite appreciative of all your aide has done for you, to that end I’ve brought her quite a lot of things sourced from all across Lonvoron,” Talricto imperiously declared, taking a long drag of some cylindrical roll-up of plant matter, imperceptibly trembling as the smoke clogged his pores a bit.

Orodan didn’t think Talricto could swallow his ego enough to show romantic affection for even his own kind let alone a human. Nor did he think the spider regarded Luetta as anything more than a useful servant.

“Hmm… physical conditioning through inhaling toxic smoke? The halflings of my world have their pipes, is that something similar?” Orodan asked. “In any case, we’re getting off-topic, I’ll be seeing you two upon our return. Let me know if anything goes amiss Talricto.”

“Amiss? With me around? I think not. Go engage in whatever petty games you’re required to, and I shall be waiting upon your return,” Talricto said.

“You can just say you’re afraid of the Eldritch…” Orodan muttered.

“A-afraid?! Why that foul substance has no sway over me! None! I simply wish not to sully my hands with it is all…”

“The plague is no trivial matter Mister Wainwright… from what I hear in the old tales, entire worlds fell to it before the powers above went to war in order to stem its tide,” Luetta added, looking quite serious. “I’m no soldier and have no particularly strong loyalty towards King and country. To me, heading into that dead zone is the intent of a madman.”

“Planning to achieve Transcendence while defying the System could also be seen as the plan of a madwoman,” Orodan countered. “I’ve dealt with both the plague and the System before; your venture’s the worst of the two.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I have an experienced assistant at my side, isn’t it?” Luetta asked, proffering a hand.

Orodan shook it.

“I’ll remain in touch. Try not to trigger the trial without me, the entire thing becomes a bit pointless in that case.”

The stomping of feet coming out the door interrupted their conversation, and an angry Fanny Penny whipped an accusatory finger towards him.

“You!”

“Yes?”

“You’ve been putting ideas into my son’s head!” Fanny angrily declared.

Orodan owed Fanny a lot. Weaving had gained eight levels over the last three months thanks to his tutelage under her. He was certainly no talent at the art, but improving the skill could only better his ability to weave magic into his fighting style. He had hunted food daily for them, cooked for her and her son and then dined with them.

Needless to say, he liked the two of them.

But that didn’t mean he was about to get overly involved in this spat by taking any side too strongly. By Alastaian standards, Fenton was on the cusp of becoming a grown man. The boy would have to make his own choices.

“I understand that you’re angry, but all I’ve done is train Fenton to better himself. You and I both know this,” Orodan replied.

Her face was red with frustration, but she took a breath to steady herself before continuing.

“He’s but a thirteen-year-old boy, he has no business being on the front lines of a war Mister Wainwright! Help him see some sense!” Fanny pleaded.

Fenton came up from behind and looked determined to defy his mother.

“There’s lads a year or two older than me helpin’ out!” Fenton said. “If the plague ain’t stopped, we’ll all suffer!”

“Foolish boy! Why should it be your duty to stop it?” Fanny hissed in turn.

“Because… because…! It wasn’t Mister Orodan’s duty to come ‘ere and put a stop to our wrongs either, but he did! Where would we be if he said it wasn’t his duty?”

And of course, this led to the woman levelling an angry glare towards him now.

“Mister Wainwright I-”

“Enough,” Orodan said, a hand gently outraised. It was said calmly, but the woman became silent anyhow. “I will not mince words with you for that’s not my way. I have no intention of encouraging or discouraging Fenton from accompanying us, for the choice is his own.”

“He’s but a boy!”

“And so was I when I was forced to take a life amidst the desperate struggle for scraps. Crime, violence and poverty were all I knew growing up,” Orodan solemnly stated. “Destiny’s cruel hand comes for us no matter what age we are. Fenton’s decision is one he’ll have to make for himself. After all… before I came, how long did you have left? Do you mean to say your death wouldn’t have pushed him down an unpleasant path?”

The question clearly shook Fanny.

“And if he dies in the dead zone, what then? I’ll be both a widow and a grieving mother, Mister Wainwright,” Fanny retorted. “You’re not wrong… I felt the end drawing near before you graced our lives. But now, even with my good health and two arms and legs I can move around… I feel nothing but terror at the thought of losing it all again. I’d sooner be stricken by the Withering once more than see my little boy perish far from home, cold and alone. Do you know what that feeling is like? For a mother to lose her child?”

“I do not… but I unfortunately do know the feeling of losing both my mother and father. I was perhaps a few months old when both of them were slain in front of me, leaving me the only survivor of a doomed caravan, relegated to a life of orphanhood,” Orodan said. “The pain of loss, I’ve experienced it one time too many myself. Yet, that fear cannot prevent us from moving forward.”

“Then, knowing such harsh misery yourself, should you not want Fenton to remain safe?” Fanny asked, her tone softening.

“I do. I wish everyone would remain safe and well, but whether he remains here or not, Lonvoron is doomed to inevitably fall to the Eldritch without intervention,” Orodan said. “Still, Clyburn and I can manage just fine by ourselves. But… I will not lie and say Fenton’s aid wouldn’t be greatly beneficial. He’s a young man, and has the right to make his own choice on this matter.”

The Blackworth Collective was mounting an excellent defense, but they were losing ground regularly, with some of the other worlds under the crown’s authority looking far bleaker. Eventually, whether it took centuries or millennia, the Eldritch would overwhelm even the prime world they were upon.

And Orodan, much as he could purge it, would not only become the immediate target of the Prophet, but he also had to consider what he originally came to Lonvoron for, which was finding the previous time looper and inquiring about the notion of true soul genesis.

“Mum… I can look after meself. Haven’t I been lookin’ after you all this time before Mister Orodan came along?” Fenton asked. “You say I’m a boy, but I had to step into da’s shoes rather early on, didn’t I?”

“Oh Fen… you should never have had to do any of that…”

Her voice broke and she started crying, which was Orodan’s cue to once again step away and give mother and son some space.

“All these emotional outbursts have exhausted me,” Talricto said. “Orodan, try not to die. We have more sparring to do upon your return.”

The spider winked out of existence, utterly imperceptible. Orodan’s regular testing of Talricto’s skillset had benefits for more than just himself.

“Well then Mister Wainwright, I shall be away to find someplace secluded and begin preparations for attempting the trial,” Luetta said. “I still have a scant more to progress before I can ascend, and I shall reach out once ready.”

Orodan nodded as she walked away as well. Finally, a familiar boy came up behind him.

“She’s talkin’ like I’m marching off to me death ser!”

“You are headed for the front lines, assuming your decision still holds. You cannot blame a mother for opposing her son heading off to war.”

“I suppose you’re not wrong Mister Orodan… still, now I can prove I’ve got it in me to be like you!”

Orodan frowned and gave the lad a light cuff upside the head.

“There are far better people to emulate than me. Trying to follow in my footsteps will only get you killed in a brash manner,” Orodan chided. “Come then, the ships are waiting for us.”

#

“Gods I detest sea travel… I feel my lunch on its way out…”

Orodan put a hand on the man’s shoulder, silently using Domain of Perfect Cleaning to correct his inner ear’s balance-detecting function.

“Oh… that feels a lot better, thank you Mister Wainwright,” Clyburn said. “You could become obscenely rich as a healer, you know? Then again, I’m sure an otherworlder like you has better things to be doing than going around healing people.”

“He healed me mum he did. Mister Orodan’s not above helpin’ the little folk when he comes across their problems, he was one of us too!” Fenton declared.

“Sickness is but an impurity which can be cleansed. My Celestial skill revolves around the aspect of cleaning. Naturally, this lends well to dealing with such things,” Orodan explained. “However, there are doubtlessly better healers than I. Particularly those across the cosmos whose Celestial abilities specialize in it.”

Orodan was under no delusions that he could out heal a Transcendent with a Celestial-rarity skill of healing for example. Cleaning was cleaning, and while it had Basic Healing under its purview, he wouldn’t be besting someone with comparable talent who specialized in the art itself.

“Celestial-rarity? I’ve never heard of such a thing except in fairy tales…” Clyburn muttered.

“Better than me who’d never heard of such a thing in his life when acquiring it,” Orodan said.

Alastaia was a small world with a relatively undeveloped civilization. Lonvoron at least had fairy tales about the Celestial-rarity, his home world had nothing.

“I wonder if I can ever get a skill like that,” Fenton said. “A few centuries maybe?”

“Sooner than a decade even. Your talent at Enchanting is comparable to my talent in Cleaning,” Orodan said. “If I recall… I ended up acquiring a Celestial-rarity skill in under ten years.”

In under ten years of time looping anyhow. And it’d taken him a lot of hard work, doing things the overwhelming majority of folk would find insane, and a flash of inspiration near the end when he’d lost everything during the climax of the battle of Novar’s Peak.

Fenton had a determined look on his face which Orodan wasn’t sure he liked all that much.

“You’re worried for him,” Zaessythra said.

“I suspect your words are true. I’m not normally so concerned about someone getting killed. But I’ve come to grow fond of him… and he’s going to make a lot of enemies if this test goes well.”

The enemies on Lonvoron Orodan wasn’t concerned about. It was the powers behind the plague that were the problem.

The main problem was just how absurdly talented Fenton was at Enchanting. The lad’s talent was comparable to Orodan’s own proclivity for Cleaning. That in combination with the suspicious circumstances around his upbringing had Orodan very concerned about the sorts of beings that might take an unfriendly interest in the boy.

It was no lie to say that if the Prophet became aware of Fenton, the boy would die. And unfortunately, Orodan was still too weak to do anything about it. Anyone else on Lonvoron short of the previous time looper? He felt confident he could beat. An Administrator? Not yet, he had much training and advancement to go before he was on that level.

The seas were calm. Nothing on the waters save a singular boat in the distance.

Which was why Orodan’s eyes narrowed as Vision of Purity sensed the familiar plague coming towards the ship. Eldritch.

Half a minute later, the waves became just a tad bit more turbulent, signifying that something of significant size was approaching.

“Somethin’ big coming for us ser!” Fenton declared. “We should head up to the deck and assist the crew!”

Orodan, Fenton and Clyburn went out to the deck where sailors were in a frenzy and the ship’s captain looked exceptionally worried as he barked out orders.

“All hands man the cannons! I want the guns loaded and ready to fire the second that thing breaks the surface!”

“Captain, what’s going on?” Clyburn asked.

“Sir Clyburn… something really, really big’s coming our way. Never seen anything like it before,” the captain said. “Are either you or any of your guests capable of fighting? We could use all hands on deck for this one.”

“But… we’re on a shipping lane! How can something so big get through!” Clyburn protested.

“I don’t know, and we’ve sent an emergency communication out to the navy, but they’re still a ways out and we’ll have to make do without backup,” the man said. “Now I’ll ask again, can any of you pick up a gun?”

Clyburn looked to Orodan, but Orodan himself looked at Fenton.

“It’s a Transcendent,” Orodan stated.

“T-transcendent?! That’s… too big a gap for me to cross, some of my experimental stuff isn’t ready yet,” Fenton replied.

“That’s fine. Because I’m not expecting you to fight it, directly anyhow,” Orodan replied. “It’s infected by the plague.”

“That’s even worse!” the captain barked. “The infection grants creatures a monstrous increase in ability! We’re bloody done for!”

Fenton and Clyburn simply shared a look however.

“Shall we get to cranking the device, young Fenton?”

“Right away Mister Clyburn.”

“Hey! We need all hands on deck! Where are you two-”

“At ease captain, we’ll be activating something that should resolve the matter,” Orodan said as he walked away.

He entered the cargo hold of the ship.

“Damn… how do we deploy this thing? It’ll need to be standin’ up straight,” Fenton said, frowning.

They were upon a gigantic cargo ship, the only type of vessel capable of holding two giant metal pillars the size of a tower. Of course, the devices were within the cargo hold of the ship and not at all accessible to the open air. Something Orodan could solve easily enough.

“We’ll have to compensate the ship captain for this…”

His fist shot up, blowing a hole up and out. Rain began pouring in, but that was alright and within expectations as Orodan hoisted the gigantic pillar up, standing it so that it was now exposed to open air.

“Good heavens Mister Wainwright… is that what a high level of Physical Fitness can do?” Clyburn asked.

“With training, anyone can do it,” Orodan said, finishing the process of standing the pillar up. “Fenton, whenever you’re ready.”

“Aye ser!” the boy said, placing his hand upon a golden metal plate marked differently as the controlling array. “Turnin’ it up to five percent power!”

With a minuscule pulse of mana, the pillar hissed, belching steam as it began the process of winding up.

Clyburn had a stack of paper in his hands, madly jotting notes down.

“Activation time’s lower than expected!” Clyburn declared, pleasantly surprised. “The original blueprint would have needed five minutes, this might be done in seconds!”

“Right ser, it’s ‘bout to go off!” Fenton excitedly said.

Just in time too, as the infected whale the size of an entire large island was barrelling right for them. Perhaps it was a sabotage attempt by the Eldritch, or maybe it was a random attack now that they were approaching the dead zone. In any case, it mattered not.

A monstrously powerful suction force erupted from the top of the pillar. Orodan placed his hand on the metallic frame of the device, noting that it still felt cool to the touch. Good, the construction was holding. They’d run preliminary tests before, but seeing a successful activation during a field test was even better.

An incredibly loud shriek was heard, the ship violently rocking as the waves turned chaotically turbulent.

And then…

…it stilled.

The captain of the ship appeared above the newly created hole in his deck and looked down at them.

“What the hell did you lot do? Whatever that thing is, it stopped moving!”

“No… wait… it’s movin’ for us again!” Fenton warned, looking at the sensory device in his hands.

Orodan wasn’t worried though.

“Come, let’s head up to deck and greet it.”

They clambered up, with everyone save him preparing their weapons. But truly, they needn’t have.

Just in time, the waves rose, and rose… and rose. Something gargantuan breaking the water’s surface.

“We’re… we’re doomed! None of our guns will do anything besides tickle that thing!”

“Gods of the sea please save me! I have a family!”

Fenton and Clyburn looked quite concerned too. Yet what they didn’t notice was the look of curiosity in the whale’s eyes, and the utter lack of purple-gray corruption upon its form.

A spout of liquid erupted from the top of its body, like a giant geyser. Not harmful, but showering the ship in water.

“Who… who is responsible for this?!”

Its voice was like a booming explosion, resounding for miles.

Orodan shoved Fenton forwards, offering him up as a sacrifice. The boy giving him a look of shock, that he could betray him so.

The ship nearly capsized as the gigantic whale slowly inched its snout over the deck, looming over them all. Its snout pushed Clyburn and the ship’s captain out of the way, until finally reaching Fenton…

…where its snout almost gently nudged him.

“…thank you.”

“…eh?!”

“If you’re thankful… perhaps you could start with keeping this thing afloat while we fix it? Showering it while there’s a large hole for water to enter the hull doesn’t help,” Orodan said.

The unfortunate vessel which had a hole blown out the hold by Orodan, took on a bit more water than it should have. And slowly but surely the ship was sinking.

The whale could only let out a pitiful and embarrassed sputter of water in response.

#

“Land ho!”

“I thought we’d never make it…”

“Quit bein’ dramatic, the young master’s device saved us from a permanent trip to the bottom of the drink!”

Fenton however had his head lowered in embarrassment.

“Young master? I ain’t no noble…”

“They clearly seem to think you are. Competence and status tend to go hand-in-hand,” Orodan said, clapping the lad on the shoulder. “Good job.”

“Good job? All I did was hit the activation array ser, we’d be dead without you liftin’ the pillar up.”

Or him just clobbering the whale and possibly blowing his cover. With some guidance, Fenton’s ability to handle things Orodan would otherwise have to step in for was invaluable for allowing him to remain undetected thus far.

“A weakness you’re now aware of and can address,” Orodan said.

“I don’t think Mister Clyburn wants to do any work on the pillars while the military escort is around ser… too many eyes. And they don’t look happy either.”

It wasn’t that the navy was unhappy with them; rather there were some serious discussions going around on ship security and miscommunication.

For starters, neither Orodan, Fenton or Clyburn had known that all ships carrying purification projects to the front lines were supposed to have an armed military escort. It was a horrid blunder of the worst sort, and the captain sailing the ship had barely avoided being clapped in irons and thrown into the brig upon the realization that he’d received false orders and the actual captain and accompanying military escort was supposed to come a day later.

Although the military officers of the Collective’s navy were trying to outwardly play the incident off as a blunder, it was obvious to anyone that foul play had occurred. Regardless, they now had a very militaristic escort for the remainder of the way to the dead zone.

The formerly infected whale had sincerely thanked Fenton and left before the Collective arrived. Concerningly, and to further lend proof to the conspiracy, the Transcendent whale had in fact been a user of light magic frolicking about and enjoying life not even a few days ago.

Its conversion and subsequent directive to assault their ship was a recent move. Very much planned and not random, which meant that the Prophet and the Eldritch world cores subservient to it were becoming more aggressive in their moves. They must have realized that the initial attempt to sabotage the project at Castle Ironpeak had gone poorly and were now acting more brazenly.

Orodan wondered how long it’d be till the Prophet took the mask off and corrupted every user of light magic calling upon the elemental plane.

Still, for now, land approached. And as they got closer, the clouds cleared, and dawn’s first rays illuminated a hazy purple sky.

“Bloody ‘ell… the sky really is purple near the dead zone…” Fenton muttered. “Is this what everywhere will look like if we don’t stop the plague?”

“Worse than this, far worse. A plague world is the end stage of what happens when the enemy wins,” Orodan explained. “Eldritch everywhere in sight; the air, the ground, the water… one cannot go anywhere without encountering it. Everything in sight is infected and wants to corrupt you, you’ll be lucky to meet anything living before the ground starts trying to turn you Eldritch yourself.”

“That sounds like a nightmare… how are we expected to win ser?” Fenton asked, sounding shaken.

“That’s just the thing… we aren’t. Without intervention, the gradual corruption of the entire System by the Eldritch appears inevitable. Whether it takes a few billion more years, or even a few millennia longer, it’ll occur all the same,” Orodan said, but then flashed the lad a grin. “But that’s why it’s up to people like you and me to break those expectations isn’t it?”

“Can it be done…?”

“I didn’t think a device capable of purging the Eldritch like I do was possible, but you’ve proven me wrong, haven’t you?” Orodan questioned. “Have faith Fenton. As long as your world has someone like you, I don’t think it will fall.”

Even in the darkest of nights, heroes could be found lighting the way. The previous looper was doing their best to shield Lonvoron from the Eldritch, though despite their efforts the plague was closing in and they’d been cast aside by the time loops. But… in the shadow of giants the unlikeliest of talents could emerge.

Fenton Penny was one of those unlikely talents. The lad had been facing the Eldritch as a grunt engineer on Orodan’s first loop here. Orodan had a hunch the boy would be fine even if he hadn’t crash landed in scrap town.

“Just like your world had a hero like you ser… this Eldritch Avatar you told me about was a right strong bugger, wasn’t he? Took you a lot of sweat and blood to beat him in the end, didn’t it?” Fenton asked.

“A hero? There are men and women worthier than I to hold that moniker. I’m but an idiot who likes fighting a little too much,” Orodan said.

“Nonsense! You came down from the sky and helped dozens of people without bein’ asked, while getting nothin’ in turn!”

“You’re reading into it too much Fenton. I just like fighting and I’m here for my own goals. And if I see something I don’t like along the way, I’ll fix it with my own hands,” Orodan retorted. “As I said, I’m naught but a fool who likes the taste of battle more than he should.”

“Your declaration to reunite the dead across the cosmos didn’t sound very selfish. Nor did your grand ambition of fixing the System and purging the Eldritch,” Zaessythra reminded, Orodan brushing her comment aside.

“Well… if you’re just an idiot who likes fighting, then I’m just a nitwit who takes after Enchanting a bit much!” Fenton declared. “Not a hero he says…”

Orodan shook his head.

“If you have enough energy to talk about pointless things, then you have enough energy to train. Go run a lap,” Orodan ordered, producing some pebbles in his hands. “The plague will certainly test your stamina aplenty, go on, get to running.”

Fenton scrambled to jog while Orodan hurled pebbles at him.

Not everyone could be a melee fighter like Orodan, and even then, the Eldritch were a serious existential threat which could infect just about anyone. Without Eldritch Resistance and a mind backed by an iron will, most people would fall to the plague in short order.

The Eldritch were maddened beasts who sought to furiously close the distance. Even with Fenton’s style of fighting, simply having guns, trinkets and enchanted devices wouldn’t be enough. The boy needed to remain light on his feet and be capable of rapidly repositioning, skirmishing and keeping out of the death zone of melee combat.

Naturally, all this movement to avoid melee still involved much usage of the body, which meant the ability to last over the course of a protracted fight was important. The boy had grown stronger, his mind tougher. At the very least Orodan would feel comfortable pronouncing the boy’s endurance and physical conditioning on par with that of an Elite-level soldier. Physical Fitness, a skill which Fenton had trained to above level 20 over the past three months, was important for more than just melee fighters like Orodan.

To Fenton’s credit, a run of that length wasn’t too strenuous a task any longer.

As it came to an end, the ship docked at a small but fortified staging point for the Collective’s military. It was the docking point for all naval resupply from the islands, the sea point nearest to the dead zone. Outside the infected zone’s perimeter, but still amply defended due to its strategic importance. With the ship docked, steam carriers and vehicles began hauling the pillars out of the ship and onto land.

“Gentle, gentle! If there’s even a mark on these things I’ll be quite displeased!” Clyburn barked.

“But Mister Clyburn… I don’t think even an artillery volley can dent these pillars ser,” Fenton reminded.

“Right you are my boy, but it’s the principle of the matter,” the lead engineer explained. “If our work is treated like dirt, then it shall make those looking upon it have a subtle but negative opinion in the backs of their minds. We’re just as worthy of being here as the rest of the projects fielded by the larger guilds are. I won’t stand for any derogatory treatment no matter who Lord Morvale and his ilk have hired to try and bring us low.”

Good words, but rhetoric alone would not save the day, strength would. And for that, Fenton and Orodan had tagged along. Upon learning that their ship was meant to have a military escort which never arrived on time, he had little doubt that someone had it out for Clyburn Anderthorn.

They were upon the mainland, the largest and central landmass of the otherwise water-laden world of Lonvoron. And roughly a few thousand miles north of the capital, Storven, was the dead zone, which their convoy was now marching towards after having departed from the military’s naval resupply point.

As their convoy moved, Orodan kept his eyes and ears open. And just as he’d suspected, Vision of Purity caught someone stalking the convoy, following from a distance.

A group of laborers too… a little odd when they weren’t accompanied by any military escort this close to the front lines.

For now, he acted as though he hadn’t noticed them. Especially when the greater red flag was that the convoy’s rear guard was acting as though nothing was amiss. Soldiering, even across worlds, wasn’t too dissimilar. Unknown group following their patrol or escort? In Orodan’s county militia days they would’ve been stopped, questioned and then told to move in front of them.

The odds of some of the soldiers being in on this nefarious scheme were high.

Soon enough, his suspicions were proven correct as the group of ‘laborers’ - which Vision of Purity told him were a little too armed to be considered such - got uncomfortably close to the convoy without the rear-guard saying anything.

Orodan nudged Fenton, having warned him already. The boy was prepared.

The convoy proceeded at an orderly pace, up until something blocked the road.

“Tree blockin’ the road? Point guard go and-”

“We’ve got it!” the rear-guard sergeant called out, looking exceptionally nervous.

The men and women of that company marched forward, leaving the rear guard quite obviously unwatched.

“Hey, we’ve got it up front, don’t abandon post, what’re you doing?” the convoy commander asked, and then his eyes narrowed. “Soldiers, back to your post. That’s an order.”

Unfortunately, it was too late. As the rear guard moved up front and out of position, the group that had been following them got within firing range.

And a volley of spherical objects came their way.

“G-grenade! Take-”

A device clicked into place, and suddenly a pulse of mana went out.

The hail of explosive ordnance stopped mid-flight. And then, with another shift of the cogs, a second pulse went out…

…which had the hail reversing directing.

Screams tore through the air as the group of assassins following them were eviscerated, having almost no time to evade. Only one of the now former group had survived, heavily wounded though. Orodan would follow him soon.

The problem however, was the rear guard of the convoy suddenly turning their rifles towards Clyburn and Fenton. Traitorous soldiers, either holding true loyalty for someone else, or paid to kill.

Orodan was about to deal with the volley when Fenton yet again showed his competence by throwing a spherical object down by his feet. A spherical barrier emerged in front of them, and as the crack of gunfire went off, the enemy volley of bullets hit a gelatinous and goopy material which stopped them in place.

“Did you combine a mana barrier with a substance?” Orodan asked. “Far tougher than a barrier composed of only one or the other. You didn’t use this when we sparred.”

“Can’t reveal all me tricks before a battle ser.”

Smart lad.

The group of treacherous soldiers were caught between a rock and a hard place. The regulars at the front were looking at them aghast, on the verge of opening fire, and their target was still unharmed. With a yell, they pointed bayonets towards Clyburn’s group and charged.

Orodan nudged Fenton forward.

“Can’t hide behind a barrier forever, let’s test your close combat skills in a real fight.”

The first approached, and his head disappeared as Fenton simply withdrew his revolver and shot him dead.

“I’m quite alright ser, stayin’ at a distance is to my advantage.”

“Except you won’t always get that choice,” Orodan replied, throwing two enemies towards Fenton.

A long dagger pierced the eye of one, with Fenton then withdrawing to blow out the other’s knee and then following up with a head shot.

“Two on one and you can still handle it? Let’s try three!”

Orodan ignored the bullets of the assassins harmlessly pinging off his skin as he grabbed three and shoved them towards Fenton like drunks being thrown out a tavern.

The first was shot mid-arrival. The second received a dagger to the neck, gurgling as he went down. But the third actually grabbed Fenton’s knife with one hand and his revolver with the other, beginning a rough tussle for the weapons.

“Remember, be violent in everything you do,” Orodan reminded. “We’ve brawled enough times that I think you can take him.”

The woman was an Adept, a tier higher than Fenton… but not a martial specialist. More suited to firing a gun than engaging in a brawl. Orodan felt his student had good odds in this fight.

Fenton and the assassin grappled for a second more, when the boy finally got some sense and decided to start fighting dirty. He stamped down hard, eliciting a yelp of pain as the woman’s foot received a heavy strike. Fenton then let go of the knife, opting to hit a follow-up punch to the throat had the assassin gagging.

The vicious assault had the assassin choking and taking a step backwards… which freed the lad up for a revolver shot which put the assailant out of her misery.

[Teaching 73 → Teaching 74]

“Not bad. Better than me who died after a three-on-one even after winning. Then again, I didn’t have fancy tools or ranged weapons,” Orodan remarked, recalling the death of his which had started the time loops.”

“Damn it Mister Orodan, can you stop throwin’ these mongrels toward me? I’m just fine shootin’ them, thanks,” Fenton said, activating a ring on his finger which conjured a defensive barrier even as he continued returning fire.

Fenton was a vicious fighter with plenty of dirty tricks, but the lad wasn’t a great shooter. Consequently, in a straight firefight some of his shots missed and many were evaded as the disciplined gunmen fighting him laid low, sought cover and alternated between distracting shots to keep his focus elsewhere while their fellows repositioned.

Still, Fenton fought back, and the advantage of a mana barrier which could soak shots while he returned fire with impunity was a strong one. Three more assassins fell to his bullets before the main force of the convoy caught up and finished off the rest.

Clyburn wasn’t a combatant and had thus taken cover behind the large cargo vehicle bearing the pillars.

The convoy commander stomping up to them however, was angry. Face red with fury.

“First I discover you received no escort when you should have, and now a group of my own soldiers have turned traitor? This warrants an explanation.”

“We’re one of the groups bringing pillars of purification to the front line,” Clyburn said. “That’s all we are.”

“Sir Clyburn, you’re the lead engineer and this boy’s your assistant I presume… but who are you?” the commander asked, looking at Orodan.

“He’s also an engineer, someone to help with materials integrity,” Clyburn said.

Orodan though, knew what he really was.

“I suppose I help with that, yes, but really… you could also say I’m the cook.”

Which was technically true.

#

“Damn… never knew rations could be made to taste so good…”

“I can barely move… ate too much I did…”

“Oy Mister cook… will you marry me?”

[Cooking 45 → Cooking 46]

He ignored the one woman who was looking at him a little too intently. The soldiers were more than sated, and he’d gained a level in Cooking for his trouble. Their rations weren’t bad, but they could certainly do with proper seasoning. And catching and cooking a decently sized hog for addition to the meal helped.

Over the past three months many of his skills had made gains across the board. But Cooking in particular had jumped ten levels thanks to the regular meals he made for Fenton.

Orodan took a scoop of the stew he’d made by throwing all the soldiers’ rations into one big, communal pot. He supped it…

[Gourmand 24 → Gourmand 25]

…not bad at all. The meaty taste of the stew paired well with the accompanying side rations the soldiers had. The industrial nature of these packaged rations meant that they were quite dehydrated for the sake of long-term shelf life or storage during a campaign. The ‘beef’ stew they had was more of a dry paste meant to be hydrated, and Orodan had taken one look at the sad stuff considered meat within it and ground it right down. He’d then re-hydrated everything, sourced some spices from a few smart members of the convoy and caught a fat pig to use as the actual meat.

The wild hog he’d caught was an Adept-level monster. The existence of the dead zone meant that civilian hunting around the wilds had stopped almost entirely, leading to the proliferation of good game.

Gourmand was certainly a strange skill. Even now Orodan felt his body and just about everything he consisted of getting slightly stronger and better. Hells, even his mind and soul experienced slight improvements as he savored the fine meal. Over the past three months it was akin to an overall improvement of a twentieth, through just Gourmand alone.

It didn’t seem like much, but the effects were multiplicative. If his soul energy flowed even a twentieth better, and his mind thought five percent faster, then it made all his attacks, spells and crafts stronger. The experience of such a fine sensation added a strange sort of breadth to his soul, enriching everything Orodan did.

“Bloody hell Sir Clyburn… you’ve really outdone yourself hiring this man on,” the convoy commander said, patting his gut. “Where’d you even find him?”

“In fact, he’s Lady Luetta Treadway’s assistant, lent to me for his unique talents,” Clyburn elaborated.

“Remind me to pick up some Fate Reading if it means I can find a cook like this…”

In the immediate aftermath of the ambush, the convoy commander had rightfully been paranoid, wanting to know why they’d been attacked and trying to ferret any further spies out. Of course, good food had a way of assuaging someone’s distrust, and soon enough the man realized that Orodan wasn’t some undercover mole.

They were on the viewing deck of a heavy carrier as the convoy trundled onwards at a steady pace. No further attacks had come, and the border of the dead zone lay ahead. Before them, as Orodan remembered, a shimmering blue barrier. Six spatiomancers stood on-duty, closely monitoring the region and any attempts for teleportation in or out. There were numerous soldiers and artillery batteries on-duty as well, with a small fortification set up, akin to a checkpoint.

“Approaching the hot zone commander!”

“Alright, halt here for resupply and re-armament. I’ve got to make a report to the ranking officer as well,” the commander said as they all stepped off the steam carrier. “Some dangerous business going on surrounding your project, and the colonels and generals need to be informed. Hot zone’s no easy place to pass into either, and we’ll need more troops, heavy weaponry and personnel for a successful sortie towards the main camp.”

The convoy leader left them alone as he made for the checkpoint.

Fenton however was looking past the translucent barrier, enraptured by the horrid sight beyond.

“The ground really is lifeless… I can see why they call it the dead zone,” Fenton said. “Is the earth going to rise up and corrupt us like in the stories you told me Mister Orodan?”

“Not quite yet… I’m not sure what’s been done to the ground, but it’s quite lifeless, devoid of anything living and the Eldritch too,” Orodan said. “It can’t corrupt thin air.”

“Alkahest,” Clyburn answered. “I was part of the campaigns here when the Collective brought entire ship-loads full of the substance and dumped it onto the ground. It stopped the plague but also killed everything for miles.”

Of course, the Eldritch was adaptive and capable of proliferation. Where the ground was lifeless, Eldritch lifeforms would actively begin seeding new life in an attempt to spread the corruption. Even the alkahest wasn’t a surefire method of containment. Even now he could sense tiny seeds, the beginnings of rough shrubbery and insects within the ground. Not the ideal hosts for the Eldritch, but eventually these would grow, and the earth would once more be corruptible as life frolicked about.

Perhaps the detection of this was why alkahest was so highly in-demand as of late.

“Havin’ to do all that just to stop the plague… this thing’s real evil, ain’t it?” Fenton asked.

“For most of my time loops, the Eldritch has, in some shape or form, been my ultimate enemy. I’ve suffered a lot at its hands, yet in turn many a time I’ve dealt a grievous blow to it too,” Orodan said. “And before I can achieve what I’ve set out to do, I’m certain it’ll stand in my way yet again.”

“I see… they’re my enemy too then.”

“They’re everyone’s enemy,” Orodan clarified.

“Somehow I get the feeling he didn’t mean it in that sense,” Zaessythra warned.

Orodan sighed. Stupid young men and their burning desire to showcase their loyalty…

…he couldn’t even be too frustrated for he was the same. How many times had he declared his debt to those who’d aided him?

“Look, you have a long life ahead of you Fenton. My enemies aren’t yours, and you owe me no service. I fight my own battles and eventually, I’ll beat the Eldritch too,” Orodan explained. “I don’t need you rushing towards the plague in my name and getting killed.”

“But what if I wanted to help? I could make you enchantments which make the fight easier!” Fenton argued. “Together we could make devices aplenty which purged the plague all across the stars!”

“I assure you that foul rot is not so easily vanquished; not just with machines and enchantments.”

“But I’ve got to do somethin’! I can’t let you-”

“Fenton, a warrior must make their own choices in life. I and your mother allow you to make your own decisions, do we not? It would be a little hypocritical then if you were unwilling to let me make my own. The powers behind the Eldritch are my enemy, and my enmities live and die with me,” Orodan said.

“And I’m supposed to just watch you get yourself killed Mister Orodan? I won’t stand for it!”

“What you’re supposed to do, is live your life. I’d rather you made enchantments for yourself and lived your life to the fullest. Following someone you’ve known for months into certain death isn’t the way to go,” Orodan chided. “Or were those promises of coming back alive you made to your mother false?”

That shut the boy up for the time being.

“Bugger… why’re you bringin’ that up Mister Orodan?” Fenton muttered. After a while he spoke. “I’ll go work on a thing or two. Nothing to do but kill time while the convoy resupplies.”

“You do that. I’ll be out following someone.”

“Following? I’ll pack my-”

“No Fenton, much as I appreciate your aid, I need someone here capable of defending the pillars. If we both leave, who’ll protect Clyburn?” Orodan asked.

“But… but…”

“Alternately, I can stay here and you can trek through the wilderness by yourself to find our quarry,” Orodan suggested.

“Hey… I don’t know the first thing about trackin’, that’s not fair ser.”

“I’m no tracker either, but I can show you a thing or two about traversing the wilds at least,” Orodan said. “We’ll have plenty of time to practice in the dead zone itself. Now then, off you go. Be ready in case another attack comes; I shall return soon.”

Fenton seemed dissatisfied at being unable to come along but couldn’t fault Orodan’s logic. The boy frowned but walked away.

“Ah, to be young and eager to prove myself again,” Clyburn remarked. “A little headstrong and eager for action, isn’t he?”

“And why shouldn’t he be? Better than being lazy, spineless or expecting the silver spoon of luxury to fall into his lap. Eagerness and diligence are attributes which pair well with youth. Better he be daring and forge a doughty character in his early years than rot away with sloth and an easy life which softens him,” Orodan said. “Of course, such drive must also be tempered with caution lest he find himself dead like plenty of eager youth before him… but that’s why his elders are here, isn’t that right Clyburn?”

“Myself perhaps, but you don’t appear very old to me Mister Wainwright! Though it’s hard to tell with you otherworlders and the strange skills you possess.”

“Physically, you wouldn’t be incorrect. Mentally… that’s another matter entirely,” Orodan replied. “I’ll return soon, try not to let the boy get up to too much trouble.”

“I can hardly stop him… but I shall endeavor to keep an eye on young Fenton all the same.”

Orodan nodded and then made way out of the checkpoint. He got some strange looks from the soldiers for leaving alone, but by now they knew not to question ‘young master’ Fenton’s party members overly much.

Orodan hadn’t lied, he wasn’t a tracker. But he didn’t exactly need the skill here when his prey had been in the sights of Vision of Purity from the get-go. The lone assailant who’d survived Fenton’s return volley of grenades had fled and was lurking nearby.

Stealthily, Orodan skulked through the bushes and dense trees to reach the man’s location.

Without the ability to see through the landscape with Vision of Purity, Orodan would have had a difficult time finding the assassin. The man was hiding under a jagged outcropping of overhanging rocks which had a dense amount of vegetation covering it.

As he got closer, he could hear the man speaking.

“My lord that boy is anything but ordinary! He activated some sort of item, and our volley of grenades was sent right back at us!”

Audio, unheard to Orodan, came over the amulet.

“No my lord we cannot! We failed at full strength and they’re at the checkpoint now, it would be suicide. We were supposed to hit them out at sea but then that gigantic whale approached and the navy was called in. It’s been one stroke of bad luck after another.”

“I concur,” Orodan said, coming up from behind and wrapping both hands around the man’s head. “So how about you tell me who sent you and I can give you a swift death.”

The man tried thrashing, but it was no use. He then attempted to end his own life, but Orodan simply forced the assassin’s mouth open and yanked the false tooth and poison pill right out.

“Wait… I don’t know anything!”

“Your conversation with whoever was on the other end would beg to differ. I won’t waste my breath negotiating. You can either tell me what I want to know, or I can simply tear into your mind to find out,” Orodan threatened matter-of-factly. “Your death can be painful, or it can be swift, make the choice before I make it for you.”

“I’m just doing a job! You would kill me for it?!”

“If you trade gold for blood, then you should also be prepared to have your own life be part of that equation,” Orodan said, his hands gripping the man’s head. “Nobody held a dagger to your throat and forced you into this trade.”

“A-alright, alright! It was Lord Morvale of the Ironhaven Islands! The royal guilds of the capital are backing him on it too!” the man fearfully said. “I don’t know anything else besides the fact that there’s a few more soldiers loyal to them within the hot zone.”

Orodan sensed no lie in the man’s words. He shoved him forwards, sending him stumbling.

“What on-”

“Draw your sword, I won’t execute you like helpless cattle. I offer you the chance to die with a blade in your hands and honor in your heart,” Orodan declared, unsheathing his own.

“Are you mad? I don’t want to die! How am I supposed to fight you?”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before trying to murder two innocents just trying to cleanse the plague. You sell death as a service, why are you complaining now that you’re on the receiving end?”

“That’s… you…! Just kill me then!” the man shouted and then charged with a roar as he unsheathed a long shiv.

The exchange of blows was momentary and ended with the assassin’s head rolling.

However, there was no rest for Orodan, as he could faintly sense the familiar corruption in the distance. Quite a lot of it too.

All headed right for Fenton Penny and the two pillars of purification.

It appeared that a spatial rift leading to a plague world had opened right on the other side of the barrier to the hot zone.

And the veritable army of plague forms spewing out were quite intent on rushing towards the two devices Fenton and Clyburn were guarding.