Unease returned to Luke, not from himself, but rather from Reaver’s Link through Sooty.
A harsher wind flapped back Luke’s mantle, and a glare from the golden sun above got into his eyes. Crunched grass produced a natural smell. As for Luke himself, he found an odd peace at the declaration from Iona. He calmly allowed his elbow to out to serve as Sooty’s perch.
Soothing the bird, Luke nuzzled his face to her, “Pal, you mean the world to me, you know that?”
Sooty released soft coos—pleading through wet eyes. Putting a thumb under Sooty’s beak, the Reaver said, “I’ve got to be in too many places at once, and this training is something we cannot neglect. I’ll be by each day. I doubt Iona will be in here twenty-four seven. When I return to the dorm to sleep, you can bet I’ll pick you up from here, alright?”
The bird thrust out a talon, clutching and unclutching it, clear as day through Reaver’s Link, Luke heard in his mind, You promise, roost member?
Adding to the moment, Xera sniffled from her crystal, “Master is too cruel, what if…what if that happens again?”
Offering a pinky up to Sooty’s Talons, Luke said, “I promise. As for the thugs trying to snatch my family again…” Luke shut an eye, “It shames me to say it, but Iona can protect her better than I can. Not that any of those fools could get into this branch and realm. She’s safer here than with me.”
Pausing the trembles throughout his body, Luke gulped, “I’ll be leaving now before I can’t bring myself to.” Luke put on a fake smile, “When this is all over, you better be stronger than me, Sooty.”
Sooty cawed with power, flapping toward Lulu, then diving beak first into an unsuspecting, peaceful, Immortal Slime.
Turning his back to his companion, Luke jumped into the red portal, a floating tome, talking weapon, and aged compass coming right along.
----------------------------------------
Walking down Sylen’s central streets, a dark wind flowed around the Reaver and the city itself. Refugees flooded the alleyways, overwhelmed temporary encampments, and begged at every corner.
Each had a story to tell: the village raided, the borders under immense pressure, beasts they’d never seen before tearing victims limb from limb. The experienced knew them to be truths, while the sheltered denied every word out of fear and ignorance.
“You’ll have your work cut out for you soon, Xera. None of those creatures they’re talking about sound easy.”
“Leave it to me! If the blade isn’t enough, the wand blasts will be.” Xera remained upbeat, “My newest brother won’t take my share, will he?”
“Newest brother?”
“Y’know, the book you turned Mister Silent into, I hope you got his permission before doing that. Switching weapon types requires consent, master.”
Suppressing an internal sweat, Luke said, “I think Whispering Edge is happy to be reborn, aren’t you?”
The tome opened up and allowed a few pages to flutter about before re-closing, silently floating inches behind Luke.
“See? Anyway-”
“Stop right there, you cowardly Spell Sword. I’ve come to claim what’s mine.”
Ripping away his eyes from Xera and Whispering Tome, Luke found a self-confident, green-eyed, golden-skinned elf with a sword strapped to his side, in chain mail armor, a sneer to his face. Judging from his fluctuations, the elf was in the second tier. As for the specific level, Luke didn’t have a clue.
“What’s yours? And who would you be?”
“The illustrious and dashing Spell Sword, Janeus.” Janeus reared his head back and pointed to Xera, “A missing Spell Sword artifact. It belongs to one as great as I, Janeus, slayer of Wyverns and charmer of all manner of women! What say you, ‘Defier’? Today will be the day you suffer for claiming beyond what is suitable to your abilities. Both your weaponry and your ill-gotten position.”
Janeus’ answer was a slow clap by Luke, “Been a while since I’ve run into someone this proudly delusional.”
Sensing the building conflict, citizens around the street took a wide birth around the two men, beggars scurried away from their ‘territory,’ often running into nearby alleys or stores.
Noticing not one guard patrol was around, Luke internally assessed. He planned to approach here, no one to stop him, I suppose.
Perturbed by Luke’s response, Janeus leaned back further, face practically to the sky, a ridiculous way of ‘looking down’ at Luke. With a huff, he said, “Delusions? Greenhorn, you’ve not the faintest idea. I have risen above hundreds to reach far within the tower, something a peasant like you has yet to set foot in.” Taking off a chain mail gauntlet, Janeus smashed it down to the cobblestone, and the material cracked, “Luke Wallace, ninth Defier and Xera’s wielder, I challenge you to a duel of ownership.”
Stealing a glance at Xera, Luke shrugged, “Knew it would come to this eventually. Silly elf, you want a priceless artifact? Nothing you own can come close to that value, I refuse. Poor hunters don’t have the right to bother me for Xera, begone.”
“Hiding behind vain reasons? I’ll have you know, I, Janeus, have amassed a wealth of over five thousand gold-”
“Not enough. The chance to steal a one of a kind artifact from someone lowly tier 1? It’ll cost you at least twice that, pay up or piss off.”
Popping a vein, Janeus bit a lip, closing the distance between the two. An arena challenge contract came out of the man’s storage before he began to write on to it. Once done, he handed it to Luke, “Read this, peasant, and sign, I’ve adjusted my wager costs to your terms.”
Skimming the contract, a modified line drew Luke’s attention, ‘Janeus Feather agrees to wager 10,000 gold in liquid assets and valuables to Luke Wallace. In return, Luke Wallace must offer up Xera in his side of the duel.’
Before signing, Luke asked Janeus, “When? A day? Two days?”
Laughing, Janeus proudly posed, “Why wait? We shall leave for the nearby portal house and duel there.”
Turning around the contract, Luke handed it back to Janeus, unsigned, “I’ve got other priorities left today. If I keep letting randoms interfere, they’ll never get done. Goodbye.” Luke made a motion to leave.
Clamping onto Luke’s shower, Janeus attempted to stop Luke from leaving, but the Reaver had already grown to where he could compete against those above him in Tier. His strength high enough to bulldoze off the hand. Alarmed at the unexpected event, doubt colored Janeus’ eyes, after a short hesitation, Janeus relented, “Peasant, the great Janeus is willing to adjust the offer; this time next evening, we meet at the arena.”
“Do a formal challenge request as done to the Defier’s guild. But I changed my terms, you want Xera? I want everything you own. All of it.”
“That’s unacceptable, even an artifact can’t be worth the combined value of all my assets and armor. I’ve been saving for over a decade, and surely, you’ve come into some wealth yourself, as pitiful as it may be compared to mine.”
“Then bring your ‘unacceptable’ back empty-handed. You want a chance at Xera? It’ll cost everything. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Yeah, I’m priceless you weird talking, poor elf. I won’t accept you as master, ever!” Xera defended.
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“It’s all settled, I’ll look for your request, Janeus, if you happen to grow a set of balls and change your mind.”
Leaving while giving the middle finger, Luke returned to his original goal of visiting Brisen Thundergast. Recently, he received a letter. The Elixirist was ready to hold up on his end of the bargain—an elixir just for Luke. Shouts abounded from Janeus, and the Reaver barely registered them.
His time was too valuable lately, he figured charging an exorbitant price would leave only the truly determined around to bother him.
Not one to refuse a free gift, Luke made it his first objective after escaping the Defier’s branch for the rest of the day. Swirling a palm out, Luke’s tome landed there, and he made a show of reading it. To Luke’s surprise, the tome mainly was a chronicle of his adventures thus far, compressed in Runic Language, a mere seven pages in, it all turned blank.
“In your silence, you’ve been ever watchful, haven’t you, Whispering Tome?”
From here, Luke could see engineers crawling around the great walls surrounding Sylen, some of their fierce orders reaching his ears as a whisper in the wind. Some poor bloke named John apparently just got fired.
The underlying tone caused by the coming Tide stressed this entire city. Guards drilled, townspeople worked overtime, crimes were becoming more rampant, refugees were on every corner, and hunters practically walked around like zombies, knowing their coming job. Plenty pushed their bodies beyond what they were capable of; while some grew from the effort, others collapsed.
Cutting off his observations, Luke stood in front of Brisen’s store, a short distance away from the Silver-Black tower. The blue and green stone set up inviting. Luke checked the sign to be sure, a cauldron above a flame: Thundergast’s Elixirs.
The two human guards glaring at him with death stares cued him in—he found the right place.
Smiling brightly, Luke said, “Hello again, you two.” The Reaver turned to the one with an axe, “Plen was it? How’s your heart? We’re not going to give each other a hard time again, are we?”
Plen, hesitant due to previous events and Luke’s Defier status, managed to gulp in response, too afraid to answer. Luke patted the man on the shoulder in a show of friendliness, acting ignorant of his past actions.
The Reaver shifted his eyes to the spear wielder, “Plen here called you Lenard back then. It’s been a while! I’ve got a letter, this time for me, not my father. Could you imagine that? So? Am I going to be barred from entry again?”
Saluting, Lenard smacked the butt of his spear to the cobblestone street, “Master Thundergast made a point for us not to interfere in your visits, whether he be in a secluded crafting session or otherwise, Sir Defier. Please, go on in.”
Moderating his facial expression, Luke entered the store, ignoring Plen’s uncontrolled trembling. Once inside, the smooth countertops had various elixirs placed above them. This time with no placards. Most of the merchandise within the glass holding areas remained the same, with a portion completely sold out.
Luke enjoyed the soft green lights floating around the store. Leera and Meera, the two Monic homunculi, greeted the Reaver, “Master Thundergast is awaiting you, Mister Wallace, within his back room. Shall we guide you to his laboratory?”
Tapping his foot against the crystal flooring, Luke blinked momentarily, trying to ignore the overly revealing clothes the two artificial creations had on, “I see Thundergast uses the same tactics. Take me back to him.”
Meera turned to Leera, “Meera, lead in our guest, I will close the store, as Master Thundergast instructed.”
Luke was glad one of them called the other by name. Truthfully, the two looked exactly the same to him. Eyes silver, hair light blue, skin impossibly pale, and rune patterns the same on their cheeks. Ask him which was which, and he couldn’t tell you.
Oblivious to Luke’s slightly rude thoughts, Leera brushed past him to close the doors behind him while Meera went behind the counter, opening the hip-height entryway, “This way, honored guest.”
Rolling his shoulders, Luke followed after, until Meera stopped before a closed door, after placing a hand in a particular spot, mana lines came ablaze, and the door receded into the ground.
“The master waits inside, enjoy your time.” Meera bowed deeply, akin to how a maid would, and gracefully left Luke to his lonesome.
A familiar old voice called out to Luke, “Come on in, young man. Those two know better than to let anyone else disturb me. Do you have any idea the sheer complexity and amount of orders I’ve gotten lately?”
Allowing himself into the back chamber, Luke saw Brisen hunched over his alchemy laboratory, this time, the magic projection walls all around were of snow-capped mountains.
On the green metal table were rows of elixirs and potions, each glimmering with vital energy. Luke felt an unplaced hunger arise within him, “Do those potions have a spell on them? I can’t help but want to gulp each one down right now. Scary.”
Brisen cackled awhile. The Master Elixirist found Luke’s reaction comical. After reaching a calm state again, Brisen said, “They don’t need a spell, those are permanent talent increase elixirs that I spoke to you about earlier. Every hunter gets that hunger around them, particularly if they happen to have sharp senses.”
“Could I pick one up to see?”
“Sure, but if you drink it, that’ll replace the one I’m going to gift you.”
“Understood, I’ll keep my mouth closed.” Betraying Luke, his stomach grumbled.
Sauntering to the green metal table, Luke gently picked up one of the elixirs, unable to risk breaking one by accident. Gray liquid swirled inside the triangular bottle, the plug made of a firm yet movable material. He tried to use the Interface inspection function on it and found it effective.
[Reflexes Talent Elixir]
Quality: Master
Effect: Permanently increases the talent one has with their reflexes. Often resulting in faster reactions, instant movement, better subconscious defense, and other benefits.
Made by: Brisen Thundergast
“A bit vague, can the descriptions give a more concise picture of what they do to you?” Luke asked Brisen.
Setting down his milling tools onto the alchemy lab, Brisen faced Luke and said, “They cannot, the exact effect is down to quality, the aptitude of the person who consumes it, and luck.”
Placing the elixir back to its previous location, Luke spotted blood colored elixirs on Brisen’s alchemy table, “Are those…” he cut himself off, unsure if asking directly was too rude. Blood elixirs seemed to be a touchy topic among elixirists.
“Keen eye, young man, they are Blood elixirs. The last batch I’ll make before the Tides hit. Each already has a buyer, I’ve truly made an outrageous sum for them this time.” Brisen brushed a hand through his facial hair, “It’s best you don’t take one this early in your career, many find themselves addicted after their first. Plus, the types I’ve made are all unsuited to you.”
“Would I be allowed to hold one and see its effects? If it’s too much this time, I understand.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to show you, if only so that you may learn why they’re coveted. I’ll be picking which one to let you see.”
“Of course,” Luke put his hand in parade rest, a habit he previously thought had finally disappeared, “Ready when you are, Brisen.”
The old monic scooped up one such red vial and hung it a foot away from Luke’s face, “You can inspect it from here, I’d prefer you not to touch it, these things are hard to contain. This old man can see the greed and hunger rising in your eyes.”
Greed had become a familiar feeling to Luke by now, and thus, he quickly crushed it. Hunger, however, proved more difficult. The Reaver willed the Interface to inspect the elixir in front of him.
[Archery Blood Talent Elixir]
Quality: Master
Effect: Permanently increases the talent one has with archery, with no limit to consumption. An additional increase of double efficacy with archery will begin with the user for ten minutes.
Made by: Brisen Thundergast
“Someone’s archery ability would double for ten minutes? And that’s after they gain a permanent increase first? What are you selling this thing for anyway?”
Appearing disinterested, Brisen set the blood elixir back to the alchemy lab, “That one is more in demand, the current highest bidder is paying three thousand gold.”
Eyes bulging at the reveal, Luke said, “Three thousand for a vial that small? That’s liquid gold in a bottle. I’ll never understand the world of the rich.”
Putting a hand on his back hip, Brisen cracked his back, “This work has done a number on my back today.” Brisen stared at Luke briefly before saying, “See that you understand it soon, young man. If you haven't already, you’ll have to mix in that world. I take it you’ve been invited to the last invite auction, held in two days from now?”
“That obvious? Yeah, the Fasa house handed me my invitation.”
“My boy, it is not so much obvious as it is required. In those circles, you are valuable, not the other way around. Expert technique holders have potential no one else in the city can match. Being a Defier is proof that you are one.”
Noticing the snow flurries blazing on the projection walls, Luke tried to shift the topic, “Any reason for those?” Luke pointed his thumb at the arctic mountains.
Wearing a grand smile that gave crow’s feet, Brisen said, “Glad you took note, I needed this environment to craft the permanent talent potion best suited to the Ice Defier, Luke Wallace. Congratulations on the title, by the way. The replicated environment can help an alchemist envision how suitably alter the materials for the intended effect.” Brisen brought out an elixir from his green robes, within the bottle, light blue liquid mixed with white flecks, swirling in a pattern similar to a blizzard. He set it down on the green metal table in a relatively free spot.
“Enjoy my gift to you, but also a warning. This one will take up a type of permanent boost you can only enjoy once in your life. Should you ever find another elixir of a similar effect, it will be useless to you unless it’s the blood variant or temporary type.
“Should I hold off then?” Luke asked Brisen.
“Not at all, young man. No one in this Duchy can craft elixirs at the grand master quality. What I’m offering you is the best you can find within the Edgelands.”
“I’ll take my chances then,” reaching out to the elixir Brisen had just set down, Luke wrapped his fingers on it, the potion cold enough to pierce past his frost resistance. Taking care not to drop it, he inspected it.
[Ice Affinity Talent Elixir]
Quality: Master
Effect: Permanently increases one’s talent with Ice, raising their affinity. Only the first of such an elixir will be effective for the consumer. Subsequent potions will have no effect, even if higher quality.
Made by: Brisen Thundergast