The Borai shut his white-glowing eyes and hummed a low hymn. Beneath the icy shell enclosing the bear, Alan noticed the black breastplate he bargained for glowing to life at the edges.

A trade commenced.

“Still don’t believe I can barter with you?” Alan said to Durger, feeling a heaviness on his hip. “Oh shit. What’s happening?”

“The burden of Black Saro is transferring unto you,” Durger sounded pained.

“What the hell do I do?” Alan panicked, peering back at the battle between Farante, Flint, and Lucius – which looked like it may have taken a turn for the worse.

Lucius was swept from a lightning fast kick to the shin, and in the same motion, Farante spun to deflect Flint’s spell back in his face.

Shit! Alan gritted his teeth.

“If what my dagger eyes tell me are true, you are about to split a soul… stealing from a Collector.”

“What does that mean, Durger!” Alan watched the Borai’s breastplate design change before his eyes. He understood it as his, the same as he felt when he received the pendant from Akira.

Hellvetus Armor Received

+½ soul of Yogi-Shontier (Borai of the Undone)

Trade with Yogi-Shontier Initiated

Steps taken to unlock next Title:

1/2

*Your next Title will be unlocked by a grand deed.

Yogi the bear, seriously? Alan analyzed the prompt in his mind, then shook free of it when a wealth of power transferred into him like a breath of fresh air.

“Holy shit.” He looked at both of his vibrating hands.

“It worked, Sir Alan. I cannot believe my edge!” Durger shouted. “Quick, before Farante catches on, use Yellow Saro to corrupt his blade through the Borai.”

“Ahh!” Lucius yelled, followed by a steamy hiss.

A shiver ran down Alan’s spine as he spun to see his friend stabbed again. The pain was real… contrary to thinking Lucius was immortal before, he had a different feeling now.

Flint burst the top of his staff to knock Farante off-balance, blinding him.

“Now, Alan!” Durger yelled.

Alan grasped his pendant, and with gritted teeth, willed as much Saro as he had left to flow from his dagger into the prismatic color wheel. Armored angels and a kingdom of light rushed through his mind. An image of his late father brightened at the forefront, granting him the visceral strength of his past to convert into Yellow.

“Go, Yogi,” he whispered, and opened his eyes to the great armored bear unsummoning like a genie into a bottle.

Farante reeled back, in position to lop off Lucius’ head.

“No!” Alan yelled, and as he did, Yogi’s essence shot back into Farante’s blade like a slingshot, knocking the Bladesmen off-balance.

“Hrah!” Lucius bellowed, jolting up to jab his claymore right through Farante’s chest.

“Yes!” Alan cheered.

The entire swamp bubbled violently, making him almost lose his footing on the ice ramp.

Farante’s expression froze as he took a step back – the massive sword hilt dragging on the ground as the point stuck out of his back. Blackened blood leaked like poison from his abdomen. “Not—the end,” his voice was a strangled mess.

Alan ran down the slide and jumped back onto the marshy ground to help Lucius up.

“Jaeger!” Farante called upon his god. “Pull me back!”

“Now, Alan.” Lucius held his stomach, falling to his knee. “He holds a rare Peg. Stab him, before it’s too late.”

Alan froze.

“You must,” Durger urged.

Farante’s dark sword started steaming, the hilt burning his hand. “No! I fought too hard for it. Take my hand, Ojin, I won’t let go!” he shouted to the winds as a portal materialized at his back.

Farante’s town appeared within the portal as a dark city filled with citadels and murky bays. Warships teetered in place beyond the coast.

“Alan,” Flint said, holding his hat as he got to his elbows. “Do what you believe is right.”

Alan unsheathed the dagger, still in awe that Farante was still moving with blood leaking from his mouth, his eyes, and a hand burning to a crisp from an overheating sword.

“End him!” Lucius scowled.

“It’s for the good of your group, Alan. For us,” Durger egged.

“I—I can’t.” He shook his head and sheathed his dagger. I’m not a killer.

“Dammit.” Lucius tried his hardest to get back on his feet, but fell forward, clawing at Farante as he backed into the portal. A low, deep laugh resounded.

“Almost had me, Stalker.” Farante smiled, showing off his black, bloodied teeth. As he backed into Jaeger’s portal, his expression changed completely – his Soul Darkener sword flung from his grasp. “No!” Farante shouted, reaching forward. “No!”

The portal zipped shut, leaving nothing but a blade stuck in the marshy ground.

Remnants of Flint’s ice littering the grass melted immediately, cueing the end of the battle.

Woosh!

All of the dark grey fog surrounding the area curled back like a bomb went off.

Whoa. Alan surveyed an endless land of deeply curved trees and nasty-looking sludge creatures hopping across them. “But I thought only Minions of Ojin unlocked the fog?”

“Aha. Nonsense, my boy.” Flint wiped himself free of dirt. “Can never seem to keep these robes clean, dammit. Mujungo laughs at me from afar.”

Alan cleared his throat.

“Ah, yes. There are many ways to clear the Fog of War, Alan. Of course, war would be one of them. Farante Del Sol is a nasty Collector and a fierce Bladesmen, probably worth a purple fog clearing at this point.” Flint put his hands on his hips and peered into the distance.

“Urggh.” Lucius vomited blood, and it didn’t stop there. Gore squirted from multiple sections of his armor at once.

“Holy shit!” Alan jumped.

“Ah! Forgot about that. He’s been storing damage for nearly ten minutes. It must come out at some point. Heh.” Flint scratched his head.

“Flint! Do something!”

“Yes, yes, alright.” Flint nonchalantly dug into his bag. “These bright essences aren’t cheap, you mangy Stalker, you.”

Flint held up a yellow essence tethered to his palm and tapped it with his staff. “Bashonga.” Streams of gold ribbons wrapped around Lucius’ torso, sprinkling green dust near all the wounds, which evoked little green plus signs flying out of them. “And a touch for you, Alan. You’re looking a bit pale. Overextending your Saro usage can do that.” Flint directed a floating bandage to wrap around Alan’s arm, beating back some of the exhaustion throughout his body.

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“The hell?” Alan looked to the bandage on his arm.

“A Healer made those for me. Heh. We could use one right about now. Who knows what kind of savages Farante was rolling with.” Flint paced away like nothing happened at all.

Alan got to his knees to check on Lucius. “You alright?”

Lucius coughed out another heap of blood. “Stabs… hurt like hell.”

“Jesus, I’ll bet.” Alan glanced at the bandages. “What would’ve happened if Flint didn’t heal you? Do you have your own healing essence?”

Lucius groaned. “Not like his. May have died. Farante’s blade is corrupting.” His eyes burned orange with rage. “That fucking Wizard. And you.” He grabbed Alan’s collar. “Do you know how rare that pendant is? Do you?” His long jaw clenched in anger. “It was at our fingertips, Alan. Years wading through fog to get a Peg like that. You just cost us a crucial amount of time.”

Alan put his hands up. “There must be another way. Otherwise, the people we’re going back to might not recognize us.”

“They might be dead by then!” Lucius shook Alan. “We don’t even know how time moves relative to here.”

“That’s enough.” Flint pressed his staff between them. “Willypop hates when friends tussle.”

“Ahk.” Lucius waved his hand, turning his back on them. His curls vibrated with every stomp.

Alan eyed Flint in silent thanks.

“What you did, wasn’t wrong. Nor was it right. It was simply… you.” Flint headed over to the Soul Darkener sword pulsing on the ground. “Hm, looks like the blade of the bone dragon.”

He’s right. It is. I saw it in my trance.

“Great power, and great corruption.” Flint glanced at Lucius. “If we give it to you, you are all but certain to fall into darkness.”

“Shut it, Wizard. I’ve managed the Black longer than you’ve been a mage.”

“I highly doubt that,” Flint hooted.

Alan scratched his head, staring at the weapon. “Is that why Farante is the way he is? He seemed heroic, at a time.”

Flint furrowed his brow. “Oh? You knew him in a past life?”

“Nah. Same way I knew Liustad’s bow was fake,” he said.

“Ah, you are like a living, clairvoyant frog. I should take you everywhere I go and pet you.” Flint circled the sword.

“No thank you.” Alan grimaced, then looked to Durger. “Any thoughts?”

“Stay as far away from that blade as possible, Alan. Once it’s claimed, the Borai’s soul should transfer to you. Yes. A great victory! Farante took a fatal blow by losing this prize.” Durger wriggled in his sheath.

“Step aside, Wizard.” Lucius shouldered Flint out of the way and went to grab the hilt.

“Wait.” Flint snapped a snowball at his hand. “We have no idea what types of souls reside in there. Best to have it inspected first.”

Lucius scoffed. “And risk losing two treasures in a day? I will manage the Black, Flint. Unless you want to?”

“You will never gain Mujungo’s favor with your hasty decisions, Lucius.”

“Fine by me.” He extended his armor to fully cover him once more and grasped the blade.

A monstrous exhale knocked Flint and Alan back.

Ting!

A golden coin with the Borai’s face etched into it clinked off Alan’s dagger into his hand.

Essence of Borai Received

+½ soul of Yogi-Shontier (Borai of the Undone)

“Holy shit, Durger,” Alan whispered. “You’re right. I really just acquired a Minion of Ojin.” He stared at the coin, recalling that he could transform any entity into its rightful state by just flipping it.

“I suppose not a total loss.” Lucius twirled the blade into a leather sheath on his back.

The three of them licked their wounds for the next twenty minutes while tempers died down.

“I’m in your debt,” Alan confessed.

Flint crossed his legs. “In truth, we were thrilled to hear your call through the trees of Strangey Town. You knew your directions, too. Very impressive. But I must ask, why, oh why did you choose to stay?”

Alan side-eyed Lucius. “Because not everyone enjoys Mujungo’s shenanigans, Flint. I like it here, weird as that may sound.”

“Not weird at all,” Lucius said.

Flint leaned closer to Alan. “There’s no guarantee that anything comes after this life, friend. Think carefully about your next moves, I beg of you. If what the frogs tell us are true, there is greatness within you that’s meant to be seen.”

“Don’t gas the man’s head, Wizard,” Lucius scoffed.

“It’s either hear about how great I’m supposed to be or get scolded for not killing someone.” Alan shook his head. “If I didn’t consider you both friends who just saved my ass, I’d be running in the other direction right now.”

Lucius sighed. “Alan… I’m sorry for overreacting. If you knew how hard I’ve chased that Peg—”

“I’m sorry too, Lucius. I’m not used to the Realm of War.”

“How can you be? I’ve resided in this universe so long, I forgot what it’s like to see it with fresh eyes.” Lucius bowed his head. “So many Titles ago.”

Alan felt bad for Lucius, and really wondered about whether his loved one was still alive. Had the Stalker been here years? Decades? It could be a blip in his Origin World or an eternity.

“Speaking of Titles. I got a new one,” Alan revealed.

“That’s excellent, Alan! Do tell.” Flint slapped Alan’s knee.

Lucius arced an eyebrow, further egging him.

“God Merchant of Strangey Town.”

Flint whipped his head like he got slapped in the face. “God Merchant? Show us.”

“Uhh?” Alan scratched his head.

“Was it wise to reveal this information, Alan?” Durger asked.

“I trust them. I wouldn’t be here without them,” Alan muttered.

“Shut your eyes and imagine your Title over your head,” Flint coached.

Alan did what he was told.

Flint gasped. “By Mujungo’s feathers, I’ve never seen such a magnificent Title in my life. Lucius, my darkened friend, say something.”

“It is odd,” Lucius agreed.

“Yes!” Flint got to his feet. “Yes it is. If I were a betting man, I’d say the minions of the Purple would already respect him.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Alan said.

“Here, you must inspect your own accomplishments, my good Merchant. Aha! Concentrate on this magnificent Title you gained, and allow your prompts to inform you graciously.”

“The batshit Wizard is right.” Lucius folded his arms. “Request the affinity associated with the Title. That information should be available.”

“Okay,” Alan sighed and shut his eyes, imagining the prompt to life.

Title: God Merchant of Strangey Town

Affinity: Connection to bonded Minions, including Saro fluidity and mental tethers, is strengthened when this Title is active.

“Ahk.” Flint swatted at his own face, jarring Alan out of concentration.

Alan watched as Flint’s skin kept scrunching like an invisible person were pinching him.

“Dammit. Must be one of those pesky Dreamers from town.” Flint kept swatting wildly.

“Answer them.” Lucius got to his feet, disturbed.

“What could’ve happened in the hour that we left the damn town.” Flint huffed.

“Are you really asking me that?” Lucius said.

“Fine.” Flint waved his staff in a semi-circle and burst the top of it so white starbursts trickled all over, leaving mist that slowly dissipated. What remained was a curtain of rainbow-colored dust and the face of a large, red-nosed woman staring back at them.

Alan recognized the lady from the town square. Come to think of it, she had a dreamcatcher on her back when he first saw her.

“What is it, Preshia?” Flint put his hands on his hips. “Lucky for you we are out of combat, otherwise I might’ve sent back a tub of dry-White-Saro-ice for you to freeze in.”

“Now’s not the time, Flint!” Preshia’s expression grew dire. “A bridge is opening to Strangey Town, near the Black Sand.”

Alan caught Lucius narrowing his eyes just before his expression smoothed over. “Hey, I never got to ask you, what happened to Liustad and his crew?”

Lucius stared blankly at Flint’s mist. “I left them shackled and drained their Saro so they couldn’t use the sand to break free.”

“Is it possible, that Liustad—”

Both Flint and Lucius turned to Alan, making him hesitate.

“—Is it possible he’s a scout for another god?”

Lucius shook his head. “I never could’ve imagined.”

“They would’ve needed one to open a bridge, Lucius. The idea is not ludicrous, especially if you left him in that section.”

“He’s one of our own, despite his absolutism for authority,” Lucius hissed.

Flint clenched his jaw and turned back to the mist. “Preshia, tell me, what realm opens the bridge?”

I hope it’s not Jaeger’s. That place Farante escaped to looked terrifying.

“None of the other god’s realms. It’s a bridge straight to Ojin. Someone is trying to rile a stampede as we feared, Flint.” Preshia urged. “There’s no trace of who opened it. We need your help to close it before things get out of hand.”

“You should check Liustad first,” Alan said. “My gut tells me he’s the place to start.”

Flint puckered his lips in thought. “Do we know the whereabouts of Liustad?”

“Hold on, I’ll get word.” Preshia vanished from the mist.

“He’s been with us for years… Took down many monsters in the name of Mujungo.” Flint stroked his beard. “It is hard to believe he has anything to do with this.”

“I outed him in front of the entire town. He held a forged bow to bolster his clout,” Alan reminded. “Plus, that Black Sand area was completely barren when we went. It’s possible he’s not as clean as you think. I have a knack for this sort of thing.”

“A Merchant’s knack, yes. A God Merchant.” Flint nodded.

“Oh, shut up, Wizard. You see one frog and you lose your damn mind.”

Preshia’s face returned. “He is… missing, apparently.”

Alan folded his arms, saying ‘I told you so’ without saying anything.

Flint huffed. “Very well, Preshia. We will return. Make sure Zanzisar and Mitas Lou Moon are both summoned to help close the bridge.”

“It will be done.” Preshia bowed.

“What color smoke seeps through?”

Preshia gulped. “Too soon to tell, but one of the townsfolk claimed to see a hint of deep purple.”

“Void demons.” Lucius gritted his teeth.

“Bad?” Alan asked.

“Existentially, so, yes.” Flint continued rubbing his beard, then lifted his gaze to Preshia. “We will be there soon.”

“We await your arrival, Flint. Godspeed.” She faded out from the mist.

“Should I be coming with you?” Alan asked.

Flint wrinkled his nose. “Though your Title is unique and perhaps you can survive the glare of a void demon, I recommend you stay as long as you can. It’s quite safer here, at the moment.”

“Wait, you actually think Strangey Town can be overrun?” Alan began feeling uneasy.

“Attacks have been growing, which is all the more reason Farante’s Peg was so important.” Lucius began to pace.

“Let it go, my dark friend,” Flint spoke low. “We will all find what we’re looking for, as is the way of things.”

“I despise your blind faith.” Lucius brightened his Saro-inked gauntlets. “Let’s go neutralize this threat and be done with it.”

“Mujungo hear our call!” Flint’s voice echoed deep through his staff.

Alan felt of rush of his god’s zany energy electrifying his body. Whoa.

“Alan,” Flint shouted over a growing portal at his back. “Be careful out here. We will not be able to port to you again for a while. It takes a full night to resume Ojin transport, and time moves slower here. Be wary, my friend.”

Alan tightened his lips and nodded. “Thank you again, both of you.”

Lucius stalked past Alan, dropping his gauntlet on Alan’s shoulder in farewell.

“Save Strangey Town.” Alan couldn’t believe he said the words.

“We will.” Flint held his hat and ducked into Mujungo’s realm after Lucius… and the portal zipped shut.

“Rrrrrrfh!” a roar resounded, shaking the entire swamp.

“Uh, guys?” Alan waved his hand around, hoping the portal would reappear. “Guys?”

“They’re already far gone, Sir Alan,” Durger said.

“Help!” a woman’s voice called from far away.