I’ll admit it, I’m bored. We’ve been walking for four days and we haven’t found a single thing for me to eat. My companions of the green persuasion haven’t exactly been good conversation partners either, so I’ve had to make my own entertainment. Granted, considering the entire journey so far has been uniform buildings…

(If we’re where I think we are, this plane is almost entirely residential housing to begin with,) informs Nyx.

Wait, really!? It’s just more of this? You’re kidding me.

(Nope. Some of the planes are just, like this.)

I’d rub the bridge of my nose if I were manifesting any kind of body right now. Hey, speaking of bodies, did ah.

Did Gron just collapse?

“Boss, we been walkin’ for four days wivout a stop!” Boz wheezes. Now that I think of it, hmm, he’s covered with sweat.

(I wasn’t going to say anything.)

Oh I’m sure.

Let’s stop here and uh. What, make camp?

I detach from Boz’s collar as he and the two others that were still standing flop to the pavement.

Why didn’t you say something sooner?

“C-cuz you told us to go, so we’s go!” Prell whines between gasps of breath.

Huh.

Mortals are pretty weak, aren’t they?

(They’re ascendants too, you know. Weak ones, but still.)

Wouldn’t know it. Wait, they’re bound to material bodies, right?

(Yep.)

Ah, I see! So it’s just mortal *bodies* that are weak!

I tune out the sound of Nyx’s hand slapping her forehead for the thousandth time as I look around for something to entertain myself with. Huh, now that I think of it, I never did bother showing Nerin these whatever machine parts… Ah well, there’s always wherever we’re going.

Although… I have an idea. If I can use one to carry a lure or a vegetable…

(Oh gods,) Nyx whispers.

I have an idea. Do not resist.

All four of my henchpets flash through varying expressions of curiosity, concern, and finally fear as I materialize a separate feeler for each of them, wrapping it around their torsos under their arms, and scooping them up like children.

And away we go!

***

I’d say we made excellent time, wouldn’t you?

(At least you stopped before we got anywhere busy.)

Imagine making a business of this! Transportation via wraith, we’d make millions.

(Sure, if you don’t mind being fitted for a slave collar. Most civilized folks don’t view monsters as having rights.)

Wait, people do that? You know what, nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.

Another hour of walking sees us entering the mains district, which is walled off for some reason. The wait at the gate isn’t particularly long, seemingly due to the level of technology; those entering seem to simply wave a hand over a device the guards are carrying, and it either flashes green or red for entry authorization.

(Oho? You like that one? You’re welcome,) Nyx smugly states.

For what?

(That tech? One of mine. You’re going to see a lot of my inventions going forward. Get ready to have that tiny mind of yours blown wide open!)

Not literally I hope. Ah, it’s our turn. And for some reason, my henchpets seem nervous… but all they get for their anxiety is a green light and a wave inside.

Next is the adventurer’s guild. I want quests, chop chop kids.

For some reason they flinch at my wording, but ah well. I’m sure they know what I meant.

A dozen blocks of businesses and street stands in – absolutely none of which were spent straining my vision to see what kinds of things are on offer in this kind of area –

(Gods, you’re a child. I’m trapped with a literal child.)

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Oh shut up.

Anyway, we arrive at a three story building made in the same architectural style as the rest of the area, that being formed concrete with runesteel paneling. I can tell it’s the adventurer’s guild from the sign out front that clearly advertises it as such.

(At least you can read, I guess.)

I roll my eyes, which apparently do show on my definitely-a-black-stone self.

My party offers no delay and heads straight to a terminal of some kind near one of the walls. Looking around, the right and left walls are lined with these, and my boys chose an unoccupied one. Boz lays his hand on the surface for a moment and the panel lights up in a dim blue, before filling with text. I’m guessing they track things with mana signature?

(That’s part of it. It also ties into your System if you have one. It’s how they track kills and task accomplishment.)

Nice, that’s smart.

(You’re welcome.)

I stare at Nyx for a moment.

(What?)

Ah, nothing. I mean, for a minute there I thought you were getting a big head, but it looks the same size as before.

(You… just, focus. You wanted quests, right?)

Yes.

(You wanted me to be helpful, right?)

Uh. Sure?

(Then… stop trying to piss me off! Gods!)

“What type o’ ques’ ya want, boss?”

Ah! Boz with the save! Right in the nick of time too.

Let’s see, hmm. I want to hunt something. Something strong enough to have a System, or at least enough to be a challenge. Those should be a fast source of vitality and experience, and I want both.

“Uhhhh…. Dunno how ta tell ya this but uhhh…”

(They’re only tier 2.)

What?

(Their ranks.)

What difference does that make?

(Ask them.)

I understand that you’re tier 2. What are you trying to tell me?

“Those jobs ‘re tier 4 an’ up.”

Oh. Nyx’s moods seem to be changing on a dime, because now she’s laughing at me again.

So what *can* we get?

“Mostly uhhh. Movin’ stuff? Or, rats. Killin’ lotsa rats.”

I should’ve known. Fine. At least they’re not more wraiths, I’m not sure I’ll ever get the taste of dust out of my mouth.

(You don’t have a mouth.)

So I have to ask. Is that System Assistant compulsion messing with your moods?

For a moment she looks like she’s going to yell at me (again), but then stops and looks startled instead. Oh. Maybe it really is.

Yeah, that sucks.

(You have no idea.)

Well, these jobs all suck, so I guess we may as well just pick something that pays well. Anything like that in there?

“Nah, sorry boss. We could ah, prob-probly take a buncha the rat ones an’ do ‘em all?”

How long will that take?

“Who are you talking to?” asks a voice I don’t recognize.

“Huh?” Boz blurts. Hoo, not great.

“Well, I can’t help but have noticed you as you entered, given that considerable aura following you. Are you perhaps under the effects of a curse?”

Play it cool. Just tell him you have a cursed item, and try to divert the conversation until you can walk away.

“Uh-hum yeah! Sorta, see it’s this cursed thing we found, right?”

“Oho I see! A cursed item. You could always show it to this most esteemed branch’s specialist on magic items, cursed and otherwise! And how very convenient, for both of us! That, he stands before you now.”

I take a moment during his excessive blathering to give the person before us a once-over. Another human or human-adjacent, but with rounded ears… probably just a human then. He smells very strongly of vitality, which reminds me and my most annoying trait that it’s been some time since I’ve fed. I’d assume it’s reflected in his exuberance, or possibly the other way around. He’s draped in gaudily ornate robes, with slowly moving patterns of runes etched in the fabric. I don’t see the containment set I’m accustomed to seeing on barriers and traps, but I can’t say I’m surprised. A gold-rimmed monocle with a sunburst of spikes around the edges encircles his right eye. And to top off every observation, GO IDENTIFY!

[Human – Unknown – Level ???]

…

I don’t know what I expected.

Well, at least I gave Nyx something to feel some mirth towards I guess. Ah, and the conversation has been ongoing, despite my distraction.

“Ahh so! I presume the brooch, the one on your shirt collar, is in fact the cursed item? It would only make sense, mhm, considering I just felt a touch of probing magic emanate from it!”

Shit, you can feel that!?

“I uh, no, it’s-“ Boz begins stammering, before I cut in. At this point, it’ll probably do less damage for me to play the actor and risk having to flee or something than for this dimwit to keep flapping his jaws.

He does not appear an immediate threat to you, my wielder.

Silence. I start getting the feeling I’ve majorly screwed up, until the astonishment on the newcomer’s face slowly drifts into excited amazement.

“I-is…”

Is what?

“Is that…”

I begin preparing to phase through anything an everything between me and the door.

“A SENTIENT ITEM!?” he shrieks.

I sigh to myself.

And then project to Boz alone, Just play along I guess.

“Y-yeah! It’s strong! And scary,” Boz whispers at the end.

I’ve gotten myself into a mess, haven’t I?

***

The guild specialist excitedly half-drags Boz, and by extension the rest of my henchpet party, down a half-hidden hallway behind the desk to one of the rooms in the back. Which, I assume is his personal workshop, given all the equipment on the tables and shelves.

[Too-

No, don’t even bother.

“Amazing though, amazing! Incredible, even! To have found an actual sentient item, here no less, on this unexciting plane with its below average mana composition?! Beyond fascinating – ah, you haven’t yet told me how exactly you found it,” the lunatic rants.

Boz pauses for a second before saying, “You could say, uh. That it, found us?”

“Amazing! That easily? Ah, Serendipity! She MUST have played a role! That or Fate himself! Ahh, to simply find something so rare, so unheard of, so revolutionary!”

Uhhhh Nyx? A little help?

(Your mess. I’m intangible and they can’t hear me anyway. Help yourself.)

I sigh to myself again.

I must admit that I am not inclined to participate in whatever you have in mind. Why have you directed my wielder to this room?

“Why, I simply had a few questions! And, I thought it to his and by extension your benefit, to do so away from prying eyes. There are so many, yes, so many filthy hands that long to steal my secrets, and they would steal yours as well! Yes, they surely would. Surely.”

Then ask your questions, ‘guild specialist’, and we will be on our way.

For a moment he looks like he’s going to cry. Did I strike a nerve or something?

“I should hope after our fruitful conversation thus far, you would at least be willing to call me by name!” he whines. At this point my party may as well not even be present, considering he’s abandoned any attempt to interact with them for staring directly at me.

INSOLENCE! How could I possibly do so if you haven’t even told my wielder your name!?

“Ah-ahhhhhhhhh forgive me, oh ancient and mysterious one!” gods, is he actually kowtowing? Who even does that? Aaand just like that he’s back on his feet in a formal bow.

“I am ascendant and would-be god Mimir! The one and only, at your service, very willingly, and hopefully toward building a fruitful mutual relationship of discovery, please do hold your applause!” he says with a flourish.

Friend of yours?

(What? Why?) Nyx asks, confused.

Ah, nothing. I just, recognized that whole spiel from somewhere.