"It's been a few months since we last saw each other, Nesmop. How are you doing?" Tusk asked the still-distressed gnome.

"Good!" Nesmop replied curtly.

"And your wife?"

"Nagging!"

"And the children?"

"Not mine!"

"Good, good," Tusk murmured, deciding not to pry further into Nesmop’s personal life, even though quite a few things had changed in the last few months.

Snickers

Prazz, standing next to Nesmop, couldn’t help but snicker, drawing an angry glare from the gnome. In a surprising move, Nesmop lifted his arm and gave Prazz the middle finger. It seemed that working with the goblin had rubbed some of his unruliness off on the gnome.

"Enough! What is it with you two?" Tusk muttered. They had been at each other’s throats from the start, ever since they began working together.

"He nags! He nags at me all the time!" the goblin interjected, voicing a complaint.

Tusk exhaled deeply, already sensing where this was going. "Nesmop?"

"He stinks!" Nesmop snapped back.

The two started bickering again, and Tusk pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to tune out their quarrel. It seemed like it could go on forever if he didn’t intervene.

This isn't what I came here for.

"Enough!" Tusk said in a cold tone, and they both stopped and turned to him.

"Nesmop, be more considerate of your colleague. And Prazz... there's a limit to filthiness. You will wash once a week!"

Gasp

"Once a w-week?? But it burns! Water bad!" Prazz dropped to his knees in despair, but Tusk wasn’t having any of it.

"I said enough! Stop making me repeat myself! I came down here to pick up the prototype."

Prazz sniffled, but eventually picked himself up, using his sleeve to wipe the snot from his nose.

"Are you sure you're ready, Greens? Using the gauntlet will pack quite a punch," kikiki Prazz chuckled.

Nesmop narrowed his eyes at Prazz but nodded in agreement. "He's right, your orcishness. The prototype is usable, but it’s just that—a prototype! We need more testing!"

"It will be fine. I'll make sure to give it a proper test. Now, lead me to the gauntlets. And tell me, have you made any progress with the chaos dispenser?..."

The two scientists led Tusk through the spacious research facility, passing dozens of compartments until they reached the storage area containing the gauntlets. As Tusk approached, the defensive formation around the case lit up and then quickly dimmed, recognizing his mana signature. He opened the case to reveal pristine white gauntlets with five velvet blue bracelets encircling each one. Holding them in admiration, Tusk listened as Prazz, who was standing next to him with his arms crossed, began to explain.

"I took the liberty of making a few adjustments to improve the mana output. Mithril is a lightweight material and is considered one of the best mana conduits, right up there with silver. But don’t be fooled—using these gauntlets as they are could cost you an arm! I'd suggest waiting until you advance to the third tier in your…brawler class, was it? But I guess waiting isn't an option?" Prazz asked, glancing at Tusk.

Tusk gave him a firm side glance, making it clear that waiting wasn’t an option. His shaman class had stagnated at level fifty-six, and though he had taken on a second and even a third class to compensate for the lack of physical attributes in his shaman class, there were limits to how quickly he could level up, even with all the wealth at his disposal. Prazz shrugged and continued his explanation.

"As I mentioned, this mithril gauntlet is a prototype intended for commercial use. The custom-made version you requested will take a bit longer. Each bracelet you see was crafted by a gem cutter from the highest quality mana crystals and embedded into the gauntlet. The engraving lines you see link the five bracelets, guiding the mana flow down to your hand. Now, flip the gauntlet over."

The gauntlet had segmented areas around the wrist, allowing for limited hand movements—an aspect of the design that Tusk appreciated. He turned the gauntlet over and saw thousands of small holes in the palm, no doubt intended to allow the user to channel mana through their palm. The engraving lines continued along the gauntlet, ending at the knuckles.

"This is good! No, not just good—this is incredible work, you two!" Tusk turned and praised them both. He lingered a bit longer as Prazz explained different ways to utilize the gauntlets. With only an hour left before the meeting, Tusk reminded them not to fight so much, said his goodbyes, and left.

The Siren awaited Tusk just outside the research facility. As he proudly showed off his new mithril gauntlets, she suddenly remembered another important meeting scheduled for today.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"Peon, I just remembered that the delegation from Zulypso is supposed to arrive in the capital today."

"That was today?" Tusk exclaimed. "I don’t have time to go and meet them. If we don’t head out now, we’ll be late for the Alliance meeting."

Tusk shook his head and began to walk away, but The Siren interrupted.

"Did I mention that your brother is coming? Dulin, was it?"

Tusk turned to her, surprise in his voice. "Nerissa, are you sure it's him?"

"Oh yes. My sirens have learned not to interfere with what’s yours. The ship should have arrived by now."

Grunts

"Change of plans. We’re heading to the capital, Grismore."

"What about the Alliance meeting?" The Siren asked, cocking her head.

"The meeting can wait. Besides, the main character always arrives late!"

After leaving the headquarters, Tusk approached the manacar parked out front. He opened the door for The Siren before getting in himself. With the gas pedal pressed to the floor, he sped off toward the capital. Grismore was about ninety kilometers away, and within thirty minutes, Tusk found himself standing in front of the capitol building with other high-ranking officials, ready to receive the delegation.

Tusk wasn’t easily swayed, but the thought of seeing his brother again made him nervous. He always felt small and inadequate whenever he met him or any other of his clansmen.

"To think even after all this time…"

"Peon'tzar? Brother, is that you?" The voice startled Tusk from his thoughts, and he looked ahead to see the gigantic figure of his brother, Dulin'tzar.

"Greetings, Brother Dulin'tzar! It’s been a while," Tusk said with a slight nod, extending his hand for a strong and heartfelt shake.

Grins "About thirteen years, if I’m not mistaken. When are you going to come and visit home?" Dulin asked.

Tusk hesitated, unsure how to respond, before Dulin spoke again. "Well, even if you don’t want to, you have no choice but to visit. The chieftain asked for you!"

"The chieftain did? What for? Is everything alright?"

"Mmm, well, yes, everything is alright, I suppose. Nothing of great importance happened. Our chieftain asked because the leader of all clans, the Great Warrior Gruul'tzar, has called for you! Brother, what in the world does the leader want with you?" Dulin asked, a mix of great interest and a hint of fear in his voice.

There are nine orc clans on the continent of Zulypso, and the Great Warrior Gruul'tzar is the one who unites them all. The Tusk clan is just one of these nine clans, and for the Great Warrior to directly ask for a single orc caused an uproar and a lot of confusion among the clansmen.

Grunts

"Nothing to be concerned about, brother! I will visit by the end of the year!"

Dulin didn’t push for further explanation. He nodded and shifted the topic. "Have you been working out, little brother? You seem bigger and more refined since the last time I saw you! Though, you still have a ways to go before you can compare to your big brother!"

For the sake of properly wielding the mithril armor in the future, Tusk had forsaken his shaman class and taken on physically oriented classes.

"There's no comparing us! You’re already a third-tier warrior! I still have a long way to go, but I’ll get there! I will clear the shame I brought upon our clan!" Tusk declared with conviction. Dulin exhaled and donned a saddened expression upon hearing Peon speak like that.

"You have taken up a warrior class. I can tell just by looking at your refined body. But Peon, brother, we never considered you becoming a shaman as something to be ashamed of. On the contrary, we were and still are proud to have a shaman among our ranks! It was your narrow-minded views and obsession with warrior’s honor that made you leave us…"

Tusk remained silent. He had heard this speech more than once and, while he understood it, he couldn’t shake the feelings he held. Being a magic user in a clan that prided itself on its warriors had always been a source of shame for him. But now, as a Brawler and an Enforcer, it was only a matter of time before he could stand proudly beside his clansmen as a warrior—albeit a variant, combining both magic and physical prowess.

Tusk knew that taking on three classes effectively made ascendance to the highest levels impossible. He was acutely aware of his limits, but also his capabilities. Instead of settling for less and trying to reach an unattainable level, he abandoned the shaman class and devised a new plan to become the strongest version of himself, independent of the system.

To make his future plans viable, he needed to reinforce his body. With the wealth he had amassed and the technology he developed over the years, he intended to advance further. The mithril battle suit would enhance his combat effectiveness and enable him to face even the mightiest of foes—namely, the ascendants.

"Brother Dulin'tzar, I have matters that cannot wait. How long will you be staying this time?"

"The ship leaves for Zulypso in three days."

"Then I’ll come find you tomorrow, and we’ll talk!"

Dulin nodded, expressing his pleasure at seeing his younger brother again. Tusk seemed like he wanted to say more but instead said his goodbye and left, heading back to Yelsa Co.'s headquarters.

On their way back, Tusk asked Nerissa if she had been watching them. She nodded, and he inquired about her thoughts on his brother.

"He is strong, if that’s what you meant?"

Tusk nodded and asked if he had a chance against Dulin. Nerissa considered this for a moment before shaking her head.

"As you are now? No chance. Your brother is level eighty-one and significantly more physically capable. That’s the impression I got from him. But if you were to use those gauntlets and they work as described…then yes, you’d have a chance."

Tusk frowned. "That’s not good enough. He needs to be stronger. They all do!"

"I envy that part of you," Nerissa said, glancing at Tusk before looking ahead. "The Sirens live in groups, but we’re not a tribe or family. We hunt in groups for safety and ease, but there’s no true sense of kinship. You’re the only one, Tusk…"

Grunts

Upon their return, Tusk and Nerissa headed back to his office and used the secret entrance to the corridor leading to the private teleportation platform. It was a limited, albeit functional, imitation of mass teleportation, designed for only two people at a time. Each use required high-quality mana stones, but Tusk was well-prepared financially.

When Tusk and Nerissa stepped onto the teleportation circle, it lit up. The glow intensified until a system message appeared before Tusk, listing available destinations. He selected their location, and a portal, similar to a dungeon portal, manifested in front of them, humming gently.

Tusk gestured for Nerissa to enter first, then followed. Teleportation technology was rare in this era. The knowledge of the runes and formations needed to create a teleportation circle had been lost to all but a few, who were not easily persuaded to share their secrets. Tusk had acquired his knowledge by excavating ancient ruins in the Desolate Lands.

The portal led to a platform with the same teleportation circle linked through the System. The mechanics of its operation were still a mystery. Once the portal was established, the teleportation was instantaneous. Moments later, Tusk and Nerissa arrived on the top floor of the magic institute in the Empire of Prusha.