“It… wasn’t that exciting, to tell the truth,” Eris stumbles.
I lean my head on my hand and sigh, then gesture for her to continue. I’d already pressured her to tell me what the hells I should even expect, considering my would-be ‘friend’ or at least associate is now affiliated with someone who is clearly hostile to me and mine, and she’d promptly caved.
Which makes sense. I can smell her fear. She thinks I’m going to destroy her, apparently. But I’d much rather know what kind of trouble I’m in for now.
…
…
…
After far too long of waiting for the goddess of strife to gather her words as my brow furrows deeper and deeper she finally says, “We, ahem. We met in Extra Life.”
…
“Oh.”
…
“So I made that happen, then.”
“I suppose, in a sense.”
…Wait, isn’t this actually…
GOOD NEWS!?
“Am I understanding correctly then that Erebus is playing my game? How often? Tell me more!”
***
And there’s my confirmation that the gizmo Nyx and I made is working as designed.
…
Why is that so satisfying?
A sigh interrupts my thoughts. (Take a wild guess.)
Well…
…
…
Probably because I’m you… sort of. How much knowledge actually stays in the body?
(You’re forgetting something important,) she says. (Your soul – all but your ego – was mine too. Even if that was after it was Astraea’s.)
Huh.
So your desire to build things or invent or whatever, that was in your soul and not something you learned? Not just a hobby?
(Considering what you’re doing now and have been doing on and off to begin with… no, probably not. It defines me, personally.)
Defines…
…
…What level are you now anyway?
Nyx shrugs in my mind. (High enough.)
…
Wait, isn’t killing monsters or whatever the only way to gain experience? Wouldn’t that mean you haven’t gained any levels at all since you stopped running the dungeons with Izzy?
And now she’s laughing.
What!?
(Naïve, as always. Haven’t you ever seen a high-level crafter? How do you think they got high-level to begin with?)
…Exploring dungeons for materials and killing things along the way?
That seemed to have caught her off guard, at least a little.
(Well… yes and no. I certainly did some of that when I was younger, but what I’m saying is that crafters gain experience from practicing their craft – and even more experience when people use whatever was crafted.)
Ah, I see. I had no idea… that’s fascinating.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
…
…
And then it dawns on me.
The u-comm.
Extra Life.
…
…
AREN’T YOU ASTRONOMICALLY HIGH-LEVEL BY NOW THEN!?
(Higher level than you,) she smugly replies
That’s… not that surprising though.
(No?)
Nope. I’ve never really put much work into my class… or classes, apparently. If you’re getting experience ever time mortals use a u-comm or gods use Extra Life…
(I had to turn off my System notifications.)
Huh.
…
Ever considered becoming a god?
(Why bother? I’ve already got everything I want.)
What about a crafting Domain? I bet it’d benefit you a whole lot more than what you got from me-
(Oh.)
Yeah.
(Oh gods.)
How did you never think of this before?
“Shut up and get your dusty ass in gear, we’ve got an apotheosis to perform!” my former Assistant declares, appearing in front of me in a burst of black feathers.
***
“I refuse. If you want my help, you will come to me.”
That’s what Vulcan said when I asked him for help initiating Nyx, anyway. Why are top-tier crafters all so… egotistical? Self-important?
“The same reason why every demon empress I know is both egotistical and self-important, probably. And by the way, all the things you do with the words of creation? THAT’S STILL CRAFTING. Idiot. Now can we please fucking focus? I have work I’d rather be doing than standing here in this dumb robe, waiting for people to get here!”
I sigh at my personal angel of envy. “Do you ever have to wait for anything? I thought patience was supposed to be a good thing, or something. Besides, you’re going to have literal ages to build your trinkets.”
“Some of those trinkets have your name on them too, you know. Quit while you’re ahead.”
“Hey, that’s fair I guess.”
“Would you please be quiet?” Vulcan snaps, interrupting our exchange.
I’d had no idea the old crafter even had a reception room, let alone anything other than workshops; it’s all I’d seen, but I suppose that’s to be expected. It looks like it doubles as a showcase for a number of his inventions…
Which would also explain just how big it is. I’m pretty sure this is more of a museum than a reception room, maybe a reception room slapped in as an afterthought?
It wouldn’t surprise me if it was strategic though. Maybe his intent is to awe his guests with his past and current prowess?
…
Nah, that’s unlikely.
“So, who set this place up? It seems fairly well organized.”
“That would have been me.”
I turn on a swivel to face the new voice, belonging to someone who blended so well into the background that I hadn’t even noticed them until now.
…I should really start leaving Will Sense active. I should really leave it active. If nothing else to prevent more stupidity like…
Like…
Well, like every dumb preventable mess I’ve been in where I could’ve just sensed whatever idiocy was inbound beforehand and resolved with overwhelming violence.
…Or talking, heh! We could talk through it!
The glare Izzy had been leveling my way immediately softens. Right. I keep forgetting… she’s in my head now, no different from my fox wife… well, maybe a little different, considering Livvie was my past past System Assistant…
(And I’m your current past System Assistant. How about you pay attention to me a bit more instead ruminating about, I don’t know, the color of the wallpaper or whatever like usual?)
…
…
“Huh. I thought you’d have said something else by now,” I idly muse at the gray-haired human. Or… whatever it is. I still can’t tell some of them apart.
Not that it matters.
He.
Whatever he is. At least I think that’s a he…
And the human bearing at least some resemblance to Livvie’s Julis just… stands there silently, not even offering a judgmental glare.
Vulcan must have him well trained.
“Unlike you,” Nyx snaps. “Can we please stay on task? I didn’t want to do all this pomp and circumstance to begin with. Why can’t we just skip the ceremony? I already know for a fact that you don’t even need an actual ritual of any kind, just have a god genuinely say they vouch for you and accept it in your heart – whatever that even means.”
I sigh. “We can’t just move on here because more gods and stronger intent makes for a better result! You know that too. I know you do. We’re waiting for Eris and Sekhmet!”
“So what you’re saying is we’re delaying my ability to craft at a higher level. Right? That’s absolutely what you’re saying, all because a few people can’t be punctual. Why are we even waiting for your toadies?”
“The whelp is correct,” Vulcan muses absently, fussing with the small tools filling the hundreds of pockets on his apron. And I can tell from our bond that my former Assistant doesn’t care for being called a whelp… but at least seems pleased the old god is referring to her as anything other than ‘you there’ and the like.
I get the impression he doesn’t really get attached to mortals… or is just too fixated on other things to so much a notice them.
Probably that.
“They’re not my toadies. Well… I guess maybe Sekhmet is. Technically. Sort of. I don’t know how those contracts work, maybe it’s just the threat of violence enforcing it but if that’s the case it’s still fine. Nobody gets hurt, and I get what I want, and she got back her kid, so it’s fine.”
Ah.
Izzy really doesn’t like that I’m holding that over the goddess of blood’s head. But I’m not going to change this, sorry.
In a flutter of glittering red sparks and to the sound of my second first wife’s sigh, the goddess of strife finally makes her appearance… although she looks more strained than usual…
And she usually looks strained, at least when I’m around. I’m not really sure why.
“Well, I am here. I trust we may do this and be done with it? I do in fact have my own plans and interests.”
I shrug, and not a split second later Sekhmet appears as well, growing from a mysterious drop of blood from the ceiling reminiscent of Pearl’s old teleportation ability before wordlessly taking a place around the circle that Nyx and Vulcan had meticulously wrought into the ground… right here in the middle of Vulcan’s own reception hall.
I guess he doesn’t really care about the place that much, either that or he intends to reuse it.
Either way.
“We’re about as ready as we’re going to get,” I say with weight. “It’s a big day, an important one. And a long one coming.”
As I take a breath to continue an interruption presents himself – an unwelcome one, stepping from nowhere in his trademark red flowery shirt and spreading his arms jovially.
“Ah nah, were ya all g’nna start this li’l show wi’out me?”
…
I can so no possible good coming of this.