True to his word, the moment I depart the Bone-Leviathan, the ship raises its sails and immediately departs to the cheering of everyone present. All watch as Valentine sails away at a speed no current ship is anywhere near an equal.
Once the Bone-Leviathan is no longer in sight, James rushes up to me accompanied by a large throng of people.
“Looks like he’s gone. Seems he mea-.”
Before I can even deign to finish my sentence, James and every single [Priest] and [Pilgrim] drop to their knees.
“What?” I ask aloud.
James raises his head. “The Tower-Ecclesiasticus thanks you, Apostle of the great one and Messiah of those loyal.”
I blink and frown.
Am I being worshiped? Again?
“Nope. No. Hell, no. Don’t you dare worship me. Go worship your god-err tower. Just not me.”
To my words, James grins, even tears up a bit.
“Yes, great one. We will heed your will. But before that, please listen to my request.”
I frown.
Please, no cult again. I don’t want to be worshiped by crazies again.
“What’s the request?”
“Come with us to our headquarters. The leaders of the Tower-Ecclesiasticus will wish to meet one who has such a deep connection to the divines ear and a savior of the divines servant.”
Yeah. I’m going to stay as far away from your leaders as possible. I don’t need religious crazies worshiping the ground I walk on. That gets old far too fast.
“I decline. I have treasure to find and a long quest to complete.”
“Then stay for a party.” James encourages. “It’s the least thanks we can give for saving us.”
Fuck no. I’m not about to be drugged, kidnapped, and put on an altar again.
“I will respectfully decline. My quest is urgent, and every moment I wait leads to difficulty.”
James nods understandably, albeit with a sad smile.
“I understand. You have others that require saving. I won’t keep you, but know that I and my flock will voice your glory to all those that will listen.
“You-uh, you do that.” I say. Then I quickly glance at my curious crew. “Cmon, grab your stuff and let's head out.”
_____________________________________________________
Hours later, the Timbergrove departs with full sales. The ship lurches lightly. The clouds are clear, the wind isn’t too strong, and the air is as fresh and mana rich as it could be. In the Mess hall, the entire team is sitting and situated around the [Captain] sitting in the middle of the table.
“-and that's pretty much it. The tower is a test that gives me a card and a blessing. I need to complete twenty more towers, or obtain twenty more cards. Then, somehow, the final tower will reveal itself and I can win the god games.”
Myers leans back as he strokes his beard. “As I mentioned before, the towers are all separated. Going to them all will take a lot of time and result in a great deal of danger. I’m not sure if I want to be putting mine and Clay’s life on the line for such a thing.”
Quasi nods. He then walks to the edge of the table. “Yea, that is fair. Which is why we’re going to go grab some treasure to give us a bit more of an edge. Irmgard, spread the map if you will.”
Irmgard unrolls the scroll and spreads it in the center of the table. The map is smaller, and isn't actually a map of the world. Instead, it is a map of a quadrant of a world map. More specifically, the Quadrant they are currently on. On the map, there is an X marking an empty place on the map.
“Myers, think you can lead us to treasure?”
The old man stands up. His finger traces the map slowly. Then he nods. “We’re not that far. I’d say a week away at our speed.”
“Can we trust the map to be accurate?” Cillian asks.
“Yes,” Myers answers. “As I mentioned before, Valentine stays by his word. There will be treasure, though I wouldn’t let your guard down. There could still be dangers.”
“Then we best get moving. But first, I need some advice from you, Myers.”
Myers frowns, but says nothing. He gives a slow nod. “Ask.”
“Actually,” Quasi hops off the table. “It may be better to show you.”
In a puff of smoke, the cat disappears and is replaced with a Fenrimorph wearing gauntlets. Instantly, everyone present notices the changes. Quasi’s fur now has a purple hew color to it. He is larger, more muscular, and carries another set of horns.
“You’ve evolved.” Myers says after a moment. He then glances at the gauntlets. “You leveled and got a skill too.”
“The Gauntlets look tight.” Emma comments.
Quasi growls. With difficulty, he removes the gauntlets from his arm, ripping and tearing fur and skin to remove the armor. He then chucks the bloody gauntlets to Emma, who catches them with a grimace.
Once removed, Quasi transforms back into a cat and hops up on the table.
“Gauntlets are a bit tight. I need you to make them a bit bigger.” He says to Emma.
Emma twirls the gauntlets around her hands. “It will take some time to loosen it, but It can be done.”
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Quasi nods. He then looks to Myers. “I’m an [Armament Shifter] now, which lets me carry a portion of my weight in equipment at all times. Hence the gauntlets. But that's less important than my evolution.”
“If you’re going to ask me what an evolved Fenrimorph entails, I’m going to have to tell you that I don’t know. I just know they are stronger and more dangerous.”
Quasi traces a circle with his paw. “So, I got infected with the scorpis venom. A lot of scorpio venom. The venom triggered my evolution, which as you saw, gave me physiological changes. But, it also gave me an odd title. It gave me a divine ranked title called Mana Fur. Which is exactly what it sounds like. My fur increases my mana regeneration based on how much fur I have. Currently, nearly a tenth of my mana regenerates every minute.”
Myers goes stock still. He frowns hard while his hand firmly grabs his beard. “That is impressive. Very, very impressive.”
“Mind expanding on that?” Quasi asks.
The old man loosens his grip on his hair. “As I explained before, Runic items of progressively higher quality have a significantly higher cost to wield. It is not uncommon for legendary items to require several percentages worth of mana regeneration, with divine items rumored to be near or at the double digits. Because these costs are so high, only those whose bloodlines have a naturally inflated base regeneration have any hope of wielding such weapons. Many a [Noble] will take wives or concubines who have such high regeneration rates so as to produce such offspring.”
“Yea, I figured that out already. What I want to know is if my current regeneration rate is adequate enough, or do I need to improve my vitality further?”
Myers is already shaking his head. The old man leans into his chair and removes his hand from his beard. “For someone to get anywhere near double digits of regeneration, they would need to have extremely high natural regeneration and then put nearly every attribute point into vitality until they are leveled in their seventies.”
“And nobody would do that.”
“On the contrary, most royalty do exactly that precisely because vitality boosts lifespan. It isn’t uncommon for leveled royals to be garbed in numerous protective runes and powerful equipment.”
“Heh,” Cillian chuckles. He swishes a glass in his hand. “So, if you’re rich, you can live fuckin long and be fuckin strong.”
“I see.” Quasi taps a paw on the table. His tail swishes side to side in thought. “That’s good to know. Though, my question is in regards to my attribute allocation. Currently, I’m pushing all into strength because it gives me the greatest quantity of tangible bonuses. But, I’m debating on shifting that to vitality so as to boost my regeneration further.”
“That would be a waste,” Myers says. “Your regeneration is already at the point where you can wield multiple legendary runic items.”
“My thoughts exactly. I just wanted a second opinion.” Quasi pauses. “Also, how useful is [Minor Heat Resistance]?”
“Useful.” Emma pipes up. “My father has it. He says it makes him less tired and makes it easier to work near the forge.”
“It is also a prided skill among the Wolven,” Myers adds.
“The Wolven? Why? All it does is reduce the effect of heat.”
The old man clears his throat. “I’m not sure if Fenrimorphs are the same way, but the Wolven do not sweat. Instead, their bodies burn energy to cool themselves. [Minor Heat Resistance] makes the cooling easier, faster, and results in far more efficient usage of stamina.”
The cat’s mouth gapes open. “Holy shit, that explains so much.” Then Quasi grins. “Fuck yes. Always listen to your gut!” The cat pumps a paw into the air.
“And eat,” Boriss adds. “Mother says bear gut make you strong.”
All eyes look at Boriss.
“Vhat?”
“Do you eat bear guts?” Quasi asks.
Boriss frowns. He now looks very confused.
“Da.” He raises his hand to mimic a rifle. “Mother hunt bear.” He unsheathes a knife from his belt and moves it in a cutting motion. “She cut bear and make bear sausage. Is tasty, yes?”
________________________________________________________________
With the meeting over, and a quick pampered bath from Clay, I make my way to my [First Mate]. Upon my arrival at her door, I am met with the urge to squeeze my paws underneath. A strong, subconscious urge not dissimilar to the urge to watch things fall off a table.
I fight the urge by only allowing a single paw under the door, while the other taps on the door.
When I hear Irmgard move, I hop away from the door. After a click, the door opens.
“Come.” She says.
I walk inside her private room, and pause in utter surprise. Dozens of maps, books, and scrolls smother the shelf covered walls of her room. Everything is ordered, labeled, and extremely well organized.
I hop on the bed while she takes a seat on the singular chair.
“That’s a lot of books.” I read some of the titles, all of which are completely diverse in topics. There are books on history, ships, combat, leveling, and even magic.
“Before I can improve myself, I must improve my understanding of this world. An arduous task, but a necessary one.”
So that’s what she’d been doing the entire time.
“How much of this have you read?”
“Nearly all.”
I whistle. “That’s impressive.”
“No, it is not. During my studies at Harvard, I could read all of these books in only a week. My time as a prison warden has made me weak and inefficient. I must regain my edge.”
“Riiiight. You do that. Anyways, what did you want to speak to me about?”
“Myers. He isn’t what you think he is.”
“I already know that. The old farts gots history and a lot of levels on us too.”
“I believe he is an [Admiral]- one whose level is at or near Valentines.”
I frown. “Capable? Sure. But as good as Valentine? I don’t think so. Unless you’ve got evidence to the contrary?”
“While you were gone, we were planning an escape in case you perished. Myers said that he could provide a distraction if he was given leadership of all ships.” Irmgard grabs a book called Fleet Composition Tactics. She raises it up in front of me. “Only a [Fleet Captain] or an [Admiral] are able to lead multiple ships. My bet is that Myers is a former [Admiral]. Now, a normal [Admiral] alone couldn’t hope to create an adequate distraction against Valentine.” She grabs another book named The Most Dangerous Pirates and sets it down next to me. “That means that Myers isn’t normal. In consideration of the fact that he refuses to take any job. “Irmgard grabs another book and sets it down next to me. The book is called On The Subject of Names. “I believe that Myers is named. If he gets any job regardless of what level he starts at, his Name will be revealed. And, if he has a name, that means he also has an extremely powerful activatable skill or powerful passive. My bet is on the former. An activatable skill from a named person is going to be potent enough to rival Valentine.”
I frown. “Alright, You’ve convinced me. The old fart is very capable. Why does this matter?”
“Because we know he is being hunted, and whatever hunter that will be sent after him is going to be at or near the level of Valentine. He is a liability to our growth and safety. It may be best to remove him from the crew sooner rather than later.”
Ahhh. That’s what this is about.
“Now that I know he’s even more capable than I thought, I think I’d rather keep him with us longer. Yes, we risk exposing ourselves to more danger, but I think having his wisdom will help us grow stronger and faster.”
“You are taking a dangerous risk.”
I shrug. “I am. I agree. It is a risk, and it is one I'm willing to shoulder.”
She nods slowly. “If I was in your shoes, I would not. But, I’m not the [Captain], you are. So, I will abide by your decision for the time being.”
“Good. Now, if you can, this information stays between us. When Cillian is drunk, his tongue is loose. And Boriss has a tendency to blurt out things he shouldn't. Honestly, he’s kinda a shit spy when you think about it. Probably keep it from Emma too.”
“I’ll keep this information between us.”
“Good. Anything else you wanted to talk about.”
“No. That is all.”
“Alright then.” I hop off the bed. “I’ll be seeing you later.”