Chapter 93: Unexpected Guest

Three days had passed since the start of the expedition, and everything was functioning smoothly. As they had to venture further and further out from the main base, the team had to set up camp in the forest. Everett taught the less experienced members how to find a good location to set up base, how to cast basic monster warding rituals, and how to set up perimeter detection (such as for bandits). Those basic rituals only covered the area around the size of a campsite and didn’t entirely prevent monster attacks, but they were better than nothing. If magic rituals could stop monsters, then adventurers had little reason to exist (except to protect trade routes, which is what ancient kingdoms fought over anyway). Still, they granted peace of mind, and more importantly, a warning system and time to react.

Everett additionally taught a wider range detection ritual. This one warned the caster of anything that crossed the circumference of the ritual bounds. Not only did it detect monsters, but also intruders. These two were the most basic of defenses, but for ordinary adventurers important skills to learn.

Aliyah was helping Everett out to teach the others, but she was a little forlorn.

“I’m just teaching them the ritual, none of the magic theory,” she said with a sigh.

“Not everyone needs to be an expert ritualist,” Eufemia retorted. “Sometimes it just needs to work.”

Aliyah shook her head, “This is like teaching someone how to operate ritual defenses but not how they work or what happens if it goes wrong. If they don’t know the limits of the magic, how can they anticipate its weaknesses and failing?”

“Don’t we do that all the time, though?” Eufemia pointed out. “Teach people how to operate defenses but not now they work?”

“We do that in my world too!” Nara said with sarcastic cheer, “You get paid a lot more for knowing how to fix it. Then, when you’re the only one who knows how to fix a specialized piece of equipment, you get paid thousands of dolla-- spirit coins per hour to do it. And when the company tries to renege on the payment, you don’t show up the next time the equipment breaks down and they lose millions in spirit coins per day it breaks down.”

“Millions per day? Which spirit coin?”

“Iron, I guess. It’s about the closest thing to a dollar.”

“Are you crazy? Nothing generates millions of spirit coins per day.”

“In my world things do.”

“John?” Eufemia said with exasperation, “Is she lying to me? I just can’t tell with her. It all sounds like boloshit.”

“She’s not. We really do have companies that generate millions of spirit coins per day. Not actual spirit coins, mind you, but in value of the objects they produce, then yes.”

“The more I hear of your world, the more I do not understand it,” said Aliyah, shaking her head.

“Well, you know, I didn’t really understand magic and all that. I still don’t know outside of a very specific field. I didn’t even really know what essences were when I absorbed them. Like—why is magic in a cube shape that we can absorb? Why only three or four of them? Why five abilities per essence. What makes some things an essence, and other things not? Why a cube?”

“You’ve asked that twice,” Aliyah pointed out unhelpfully.

“Why is it a cube!?” Nara said with the exasperation of someone trying to decipher the instructions to build furniture at home.

“We don’t know why it is a cube,” Aliyah said mildly. “Although it’s speculated for convenience.”

“…Convenience?” Nara said, stopping her rant.

“If essences rolled around, they’d be harder to find.”

“That would mean someone designed them to be convenient,” Nara countered.

“You know of Great Astral Beings already, Nara. They could have designed essence to be convenient. It is not outside the realm of possibility.”

“Goddam intelligent design…is that why everyone is a bipedal humanoid? Because it makes the universe more--” Nara muttered, before she stopped mid-sentence, the spike of an aura causing everyone at came to turn their heads in the same direction.

Everett stood from his seat, his food clattering to the ground from his lap. He didn’t care about the mess.

“That is not a silver rank aura I recognize,” he said tightly.

“Non-hostile?” Nara said.

“If it wanted us dead, we wouldn’t have sensed it,” he confirmed. “That was announcing their presence.”

“Wait a moment, what’s going on?” John asked, eyes darting around but otherwise calm.

“There’s a silver ranker here that’s not Zelle or Tyrion.”

“That’s bad?” John asked.

“Yes, that’s bad John,” Eufemia said. “This is a sealed astral space. How did they get in?”

Nara didn’t mention that she could get in. This was a reminder that others may possess similar abilities to her.

A man emerged from the forest, moving slowly and calmly through the brush, not exuding any hostility. He was tall, looked human. Black hair trimmed short, stern black eyes, and tanned skin—he looked like the locals. Notably, a short scar ran diagonally across the bottom of his right eye.

He was silver rank, so Nara couldn’t glean anything from his aura except for his rank. He was letting them know he was there, and approached at a calm, measured pace, like he was afraid he’d scare a gathering of stray cats.

He stopped at the edge of the clearing and gestured to an empty aesthetically clashing camping chair Nara had conjured.

“May I?”

Everett looked warily at him. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Zariel-laat. May I sit?”

“I can’t stop you.”

He took that as permission. The man sat in the chair, neatly smoothing out his robes. He was wearing casual clothing, a sign that he wasn’t here to fight. Sitting did reduce his reaction speed, if only slightly. It relaxed Everett a micron.

“I’m Everett Stone,” Everett began in an even, wary tone. “Zariel-laat, is it? Who are you, and why are you here? This is supposed to be a private expedition. Evidently, it is not.”

“I am what your people refer to as ‘an outer’. I am here to negotiate the beginnings of a deal as a representative of my people.”

“I don’t have the authority to speak on behalf of my people.”

“The deal I propose is small scale, worry not. What is it that you know of my people, Everett Stone?”

“Just what everyone else knows. The dimensional membrane of your world was badly damaged, and now your people are scavengers.”

“Specifically, damaged by the messengers. The messengers are a plague upon your world as well, are they not?”

“They are, but that isn’t my current concern. I’m a team leader of iron rankers.”

“The messengers are a race of messenger supremacists that believe that all other races are beneath them,” Aliyah communicated over voice chat to the team, filling them in. “They’re all born at silver rank.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Silver rank? How is that fair?” Eufemia complained.

“Well now, maybe you can stop complaining about outworlders,” Nara joked.

“Ugh, you’re both equally bad.”

“Says someone of a race known for its beauty.”

“It’s not universal. And it’s not practical. No—don't give me that look. I’ll admit, beauty can be very practical.”

Their conversation paused as they turned back to Everett’s and Zariel-laat’s conversation.

“I am not here for that reason. All I wish to say is that I intend no harm upon you, whether you reject or accept my proposal. The messengers are your enemy as they are the very beings which devastated my world. We are not your enemies, and your world has many.”

“As it is, I can only accept your good intentions,” said Everett. “What is your proposal?”

“This astral space is a rare chance for the people of my world to gather magical energy. Specifically, the magical energy released upon the death of monsters. The monsters here are thicker in concentration. Outside of monster waves, there are only a select few other locations where we may collect magical energy with such efficiency.”

“You can collect rainbow smoke?” Everett said, mildly surprised, which was about as surprised the collected Everett was ever going to look.

“We can. Since the concentration of magic in our world is unpredictable, ranging from barren to suffocatingly dense, we’ve developed this method of magic extraction to subsist our civilization during our mana droughts.”

“If I may interrupt,” Aliyah said. “Does this method harm the dimensional integrity or mana atmosphere of our world?”

“I can assure you it does not. If you would like, you may inspect the equipment and the ritual magic we use to collect the magic. The magic of monsters is a manifestation of the astral, and not the ambient flow the membrane produces. The magic they hold is redispersed into the ambient, but it is extra magic on top of the baseline. If left uncollected, it disperses back into the astral. In fact, this collection method is a superior alternative to other mana-dispersing rituals.”

Nara had learned about it in her monster ecology class: When especially high rank monsters died, like those of the high range of gold or at diamond, they left behind a mana contaminant. Low rank mana dispersed quickly, but high rank mana was just as resistant as their monster counterparts. High rank mana increased monster manifestations in that area, as well as drawing other monsters towards it, which had its own positive and negative aspects, although diamond mana contaminant in a population center would need to be dispersed as soon as possible.

Everett gave Aliyah a look, but he didn’t seem to mind her interruption, giving her a slight acknowledging nod.

“Then, Zariel-laat, could you let miss Sahar here inspect your equipment?”

Zariel-laat stood, striding over to a clearing, and setting down his equipment that was stored in a dimensional inventory.

The device was a tall metal pole with a sturdy base, around the height of a street corner basketball hoop. Four heavy bags hung limp from the top of the device, like deflated balloons.

After Zariel-laat explained the device to Aliyah, the the group leader and Zariel-laat continued their conversation.

“Assuming miss Sahar finds no issue with your device or method, what is your proposal?”

“Normally, my people would remain undetected within this astral space. Your group in particular has posed some issues for our collection method.” He pointed to Nara, then John, “Your looting abilities leave me no time to set up our collection devices.”

“You’ve been collecting the monster’s magic here for many years then,” Everett surmised.

“It is a matter of survival, so I apologize for our impropriety as a whole,” Zariel-laat said, performing a formal, sincere bow—a local custom.

Everett seemed conflicted, but there wasn’t much he could do but push the conversation along.

“We’ve had adventurers with loot abilities for many years now,” Everett said. “Why reveal yourself now?”

“That is true,” Zariel-laat said, ever formal. “We have accepted that there will always be magic we cannot collect. For many years we’ve operated peacefully hoping to establish an understanding with your local authorities.”

“An understanding?”

“If we, a foreign civilization, tried to contact you in the midst of your own current troubles with foreign invaders, we thought you may choose to deny us and distrust us.”

“Do first, ask for forgiveness later,” Nara muttered. Very modern-employee of them.

She didn’t like the saying, but if it was true that what they were doing was harmless, then it wasn’t a big deal. This world didn’t collect the magic from defeated monsters. They had no ability to do so, and didn’t need to either. Spirit coin farms already generated what the world needed, and the gods of economy regulated production. A peaceful alien civilization skimming the scum of magic harmed no one.

Zariel-laat heard her, and gave her a surprisingly warm smile.

Everett was thoughtful for a moment, “Do our leaders at camp know of this?”

“I have not proposed it to them yet.”

“Why go to us?”

“I hold the advantage here,” Zariel-laat admitted, “I was less likely to devolve into conflict. And…” He looked at John and Nara, “The soulborn are a fortuitous sign in my culture. I have not seen any for many, many years.”

“Soulborn? You mean outworlders?” Aliyah surmised.

“While their circumstances are unfortunate, they are a sign of a healthy dimensional membrane.”

“Well, that’s nice I guess,” Nara said. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

If Zariel-laat's world had a outworlder, they may start weeping as if it had rained after a 7 year drought. Or 100 year drought. Or however long their magic drought was. That’d probably be the most pampered outworlder in all the cosmos, even beyond the likes of herself.

“Nara, go back to main camp and ask for Tyrion. Tell him its urgent but not dangerous,” Everett instructed. He looked towards Zariel-laat, gauging his reaction.

“I have no issues with communications with your commander,” Zariel-laat said. “I will wait.”

Nara focused, sliding across the membrane back to main camp. She located Tyrion on her map, who was overseeing operations. Compared to the first day, the camp was mostly empty except for the staff who were managing the gathered supplies.

She stopped in front of Tyrion Snow. The grey leonid was resting on a crate, chatting with the workers. He laughed in a boisterous way and was obviously a friendly local face.

Zelle walked up to him and gave him a swift kick in the leg.

“Don’t sit on the supplies. You’ll break them with your fat ass,” she said before walking away, smirking.

Tyrion laughed, and sat down on the dirt and grass instead. Like most leonids, he was lightly dressed, wearing a Sanshi robe that could only be described as scantily cut. Even calling it a robe was generous—the robe was cut away entirely at the back and sides, hanging from his neck. Curtains of loose cloth gathered towards his waist, thankfully covering his pelvic region (Nara was part horrified part curious to know if they went commando), even as his thighs were exposed.

Nara felt she was looking furry art given life—she didn’t know if that’d increase revenue for the desperate artists that drew furry art if they had the real thing or reduce it. Nara walked up to Tyrion, interrupting his conversation with a polite wave.

(Well, it’s not as if this world was without erotic art and crystal recordings. There was a goddess of Fertility and a god of Lust, after all.)

“Uh, Tyrion, Everett says its an emergency but not dangerous.”

“How about a little more detail?” Tyrion said, incredulous, as he crossed his beefy arms.

“There’s a outer, but he’s peaceful, silver rank. Says he wants to propose a mutually beneficial detail. Everett says he doesn’t have the authority to decide, so he needs you.”

Tyrion stood up, “Where is he?”

Nara pointed.

Tyrion sprinted; a blitz of silver rank combined with leonid physical prowess that looked like teleportation to Nara. With just a blink, he was out of her sight, streaking through the forest like a silver bullet. The forest was less than preserved in his wake.

She focused, appearing back at her campsite.

“You got him?” Everett asked.

“Yeah, he’s on his way.”

“Interesting movement ability,” Zariel-laat mused, “You’re slipping through the dimensional membrane to move.”

“You can tell?” She should be more wary of using it in front of people then; Except for those of the Retreat, no one could tell how she was doing it.

“My kind has an affinity towards dimensional effects. We are sensitive to them.”

“Your kind?”

“I am not of the human race; My kind is called the Illusae. I can explain more later, after negotiations are settled,” he said, gazing off towards the direction Tyrion approached from.

Much to Sen’s frustration, the rest of the team had no sense of tension. After learning that the silver ranker was peaceful, the team set out food on a table and began to eat.

“We can’t do anything Sen so just chill out and eat,” Nara said.

He slightly shook his head, but joined them at the conjured table.

They’d break his seriousness yet. Or exasperate him to death.

“Can I?” Zariel-laat said, always asking for permission. How polite.

Nara scooted over on the bench. “Be my guest.”

He was passed a plate and utensils, and he began to sample the dishes on the table.

“Hm? Who made this food?” He said with surprise.

“My familiar,” Nara said.

“Your familiar?” He repeated, astonished, “I haven’t heard of a familiar that cooks.”

“Well, Chrome’s one of a kind.”

“Make space,” Malik said, taking it all with the confidence of the wealthiest scion in Sanshi. “We’re joining too.”

Tyrion’s trail of dust and grass flung up from his high speed died down as he reached the clearing beside the stream.

“Everett said it was... urgent…” he trailed off as he examined the scene.

The iron rankers, Everett, and the unknown silver ranker were having a potluck style meal. The familiars were out, lying on the grass and relaxing in the shaded sunshine of a nearby crystalline tree. A black wolf, a dark green and deep blue dragon, a red simurgh, a phoenix, a bear, a strange aquatic beast, and other animals were enjoying their own treats. There were multiple illusory familiars, some transformed into other familiars, in their own illusory forms, or transformed into people. The unknown silver ranker was chatting with Nara, the iron ranker who sent him the message, and another iron ranker, a runic.

At this rate, the familiars outnumbered the essence users. This was nonsense: Did all of them know how to cast rituals? He shouldn’t be surprised: this was Sanshi. At some point the rest of the world would realize Sanshi essence users had the highest concentration of those with ritual abilities, including ritual familiars.

And yet, something else was odd about the scene.

“Wait. How did that iron ranker get here before me?”