“What the fuck do you mean Green is unavailable?” I ask Red.

The floating eyeball blinks at me before replying.

“Entity Green will be present upon gaining a level in class.”

“I saw him the last time I was subconscious. I didn’t even get to ask him how much I leveled and where to put my damn trait points.

“Entity Green will be present upon gaining a level in class,” he repeats.

“Well fuck you too you ungrateful shit.”

Red blinks, unbothered by my choice of insult.

Shaking my head, I force myself to calm down. It’s not like I lost the levels or anything. But the attribute points would have been a decent boost.

“Red, show me my job page.”

“Acknowledged.”

Job: [Ship Captain]

Level: Level 18

Job Skills: 2

Ship Size: Frigate

Primary Jobs Available: 8

Support Jobs Available:5

Maximum Job Capacity: 22

Primary Jobs

[First Mate] level 12: Irmgard Von Braun level 13 [Sword Officer]

[Quartermaster] level 16: Cillian Wallace level 21 [Merchant]

[Security Chief] level 10: Boriss Smirnov level 18 [Skirmisher]

[Chief Carpenter] level 14: Emma level 31 [Rune Smith]

[Head Chef]: N/A

[Chief Physician] level 7: Nepenthes level 21 [Druid]

[Artillery Chief]: N/A

[Navigator]: N/A

Support Jobs

[Boatswain] level 1: Auranta level 39 [Air Mage][Gunner]: [Cook]:

[Carpenter]:

[Rigger]:

[Physician Assistant]:

Oh, nice. I leveled twice in my job. No idea why, though. Maybe it’s from how I interacted with the Gambino family? Doesn’t matter, I need a lot more levels going forward. Sooner too, considering Cillian is catching up. The damn guy is double dipping in [Quartermaster] and [Merchant] levels by just trading and making deals. I mean, if memory serves, he was a level 19 merchant a couple days ago.

I should probably ask him what skill he got from that.

As I continue looking over my crew, I quickly realize that two others gained skills. Nepenthes hit twenty and Emma hit thirty. Actually, Emma also passed ten in her job, so she got two skills.

Must be from finishing the freezer. The cannons will probably level her up further too.

With one final check, I mentally close the job screen.

“I’m done red. Take me back to the waking world.”

“Acknowledged.”

__________________________________________________________

Quasi opens his eyes to the vantage of someone laying atop a bookshelf. He yawns and stretches before making his way down and out of his room. As he exits, he finds a lack of light and sound. It’s the middle of the night and all seem asleep except for whoever is keeping watch on the deck.

Curious, Quasi goes down the hallway, moves up the stairs, and arrives on the deck. What he finds is Myers sitting on a throne directly to the side of the crystal ball that controls the ship.

The old man is staring at the night sky, seemingly deep in thought. At that moment, he reminds Quasi of an old man filled with wisdom and knowledge that is thoroughly chained down by a strong sense of duty.

“Myers, did you get tired of standing?” Quasi asks upon approach.

The old man doesn't flinch. He just casually turns his head to the cat as though he expected Quasi to arrive unannounced.

He moves his arm from an armrest and allows Quasi to hop on top of it.

“Not me, Cillian. He had the watch before me and asked Nepenthes to move the throne here.” Myers taps the bottom of where he is sitting to show an extensive amount of padding. “I found him sleeping.”

Quasi sighs. “Yea, might be best to restrict his alcohol before he needs to watch.”

“I’d punish him instead,” Myers says. “Though restricting alcohol may be the same thing for him.”

“Yea…” Both cat and man sit in silence except for the soothing sound of flapping sails and the generally silent creak of wood.

“So, do you have a problem with Insectoids?” Quasi asks.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“I do.” Myers answers.

Quasi glances at the old man in surprise, “Damn, that’s a hella straight answer from you.”

The old man shrugs. “There are few who don’t have problems with them. The race in and of itself does not conform to moral norms. There is a reason why patrons are required for Insectoids to travel freely.”

“Auranta seems rather normal to me. She has emotions, interests, and her own ideas that I’d argue matches that of any other sentient race.”

Myers grimaces and nods. “She does, though I believe that to be trained and not genuine. I-” He pauses for a moment before deciding something. “I used to be in charge of a fleet of ships- a [Fleet Captain] if you will. During my time as one, Insectoid interactions have almost universally been negative. Nearly every interaction I’ve had involved destroying a Hiveship that was raiding an island or hunting ships.”

“Why? I thought Patroned Insectoids follow laws.”

“They do and don’t. Occasionally, non-patroned ships and even fleets of Insectoids find their way outside of the Hivelands- which is where I’m tasked with hunting them down. But, it isn’t too uncommon for a Patroned hive to go rogue when they feel that being a Patron restricts their growth.”

“That seems illogical.”

Myers nods. “That’s where the problem arises. The Princesses, workers, and soldiers of the hives are logical thinkers who usually lack emotions, the Queens are quite the opposite. Though extremely intelligent, they are heavily dictated by emotions. If they are slighted by a patron, a Queen will bide their time before breaking patronage and getting revenge even at the cost of long-term growth and safety.”

“That honestly sounds pretty human.”

Myers chuckles. “Yes, if every human lacked emotional discipline and had a potent narcissistic personality.”

“Oh… yea, that sounds pretty bad. How do the patrons deal with all this then?”

“With extensive control. They greatly restrict what the Queen is allowed to do- to the point that Tinea is nothing more but a servant of the Mage Guild.”

“Auranta doesn’t sound like she serves the Mage Guild.”

The old man brushes his beard with his right hand in what seems like agitation. “Because I don’t believe she does. She kept her species hidden from all of us and from Memphis. I believe Tinea wishes to keep this hunt for information away from the Mage Guild.”

Quasi stretches on the armrest before laying down again. “Any Idea why?”

Myers shakes his head. “Nothing concrete- though I imagine it most likely isn’t for a morally good reason.”

“I see.” Quasi stands back up and does one last stretch. “Well, nothing to do about it now. We’ll play it by ear and react appropriately. For now, try to be a bit more respectful to Auranta. I don’t think she likes her Queen very much.”

“Insectoids cannot disobey their Queens. They will end you if you are found to be a threat.”

Quasi hops off the throne. “Maybe, maybe not. My gut tells me Auranta is a bit different. Anyway, I’m gonna go find some food. I’ll see you later.”

“You may regret this,” Myers warns, but Quasi is already entering inside the belly of the Timbergrove.”

_______________________________________________________________

“DAAAADDD!!!” A young child of eight rushes to the fields of the small farm. He passes by herds of giant grazing spiders that make way for the child's passage. The child, huffing, arrives just as his father finishes collecting the silk and eggs from their nest.

“Marcus, why are you yelling? You’ll aggravate the Lacaranea.” The father admonishes. “We’ve already harvested the eggs late, I’d rather not do so again.”

“There's a ship. A frigate.” The child points beyond the farmhouse.

He can't see the ship on account of his home being in the way, but he can see the crowsnest.

“They’re early,” the father grumbles as he looks at the unwound silk in his hands. “Damn it all. Marcus, take this to my storage. I’ll deal with the [Captain].”

The man, cursing the entire way, rushes to the front of his home, only to pause when he sees the ship. The ship is a frigate, a heavily armed one considering the cannons sticking out. For a moment, fear takes him. It has been decades since [Pirates] have landed at his island. They’re usually far too afraid considering how close the nearby slipstream is.

“Good thing I still pay that insurance,” He whispers under his breath.

The plank of the ship falls on his small wooden pier. Then he watches as a tall blond woman and a short man descend. Looking at them now, his fear quickly abates, for the two don’t look like [Pirates] nor do they have the job.

Emboldened now, the man puts on a smile and meets the two halfway. He extends his hand. “Names Carran. I’m the owner of this farm.”

The woman takes his hand. “Irmgard. [First Mate].”

The short man snorts. “Irmgard, you know it wouldn’t hurt to smile.”

“We are not here for leisure,” the woman reprimands. “We’re here to buy goods.”

“Bah, you’ll never get a good price with that attitude.” The short man grins to Carran. “Names Cillian, [Quartermaster] of, well, that ship. As my compatriot here says so blatantly, we’re here to buy goods, specifically meat. You sell meat, don’t you?”

Carran nods. “Lacaranea meat, milk, eggs, and silk.”

The short man keeps grinning. “We’ll take the first three.”

Carran nods thankfully. The first three he’s got plenty of, what with the silk only now getting harvested. “I only sell in bulk, though.”

Cillian chuckles, “and we only pay in bulk pricing. Let's head inside and see what you have to offer.”

_____________________________________________

“Faster,” Auranta orders.

She watches with [Mana Sight] as Quasi punches forward. As his fist accelerates, a rune forms within his wrist. At the point that his arm is fully erected, momentum follows the delayed activation of the rune, pushing it from wrist, to palm, and then to knuckle. It reaches the boundary of the skin on Quasi’s knuckles and would normally shatter and explode, but the spell had already started activating. What should have been a fiery exploding knuckle is instead a weak and brief jet of fire.

Quasi, flabbergasted, glances at Auranta for an explanation.

“It is believed that the inability to expend mana from their body is an evolved defensive feature. There are spells designed specifically to disrupt and corrupt the internal mana of an individual. These spells, also known as curses, are nearly useless against species that lack the ability to utilize Materialization. The reason is because their body's internal mana is naturally in a state that is anathema to forms outside itself. A spell undergoing activation shifts into a state where it no longer matches the host's internal mana structure. At which point the body attempts to push it out,” Auranta explains.

Quasi nods slowly.

“Good. You’ve done it once, but once isn’t enough. You have to be consis-” Auranta stops talking as Quasi begins punching rapidly, with each punch creating a perfect jet of fire similar to his first actual success.

This continues for minutes until Quasi compounds the singular rune with a second one to increase the potency.

His knuckles explode in flesh, blood, and bone.

Seeing this, Auranta suppresses the urge to rush and help with the wound as she’d done before when a student of hers was injured. For anyone else, they’d become a cripple without a [Healers] attention.

Quasi frowns at the missing cracked white knuckle bone on his hand. Then he looks at Auranta.

“Compounding a rune increases the time for full activation.”

Quasi growls in acknowledgement even as the damage to his knuckles begin to heal. Using his uninjured hand. He reaches into a bucket begins consuming the raw flesh of an animal very similar in structure to an insectoid her Queen had previously warred with.

By the time he is finished with the food, his fist is healed enough to continue the experimentation.

Oozing confidence, Quasi takes a fighter's stance. He closes all of his eyes and Auranta notes the runes being formed at the forearm instead of the wrist. Exactly twice the previous distance to his knuckles.

“Stop! It’s not a doubled delay! It’s only slightly incre-” her warning comes too late as Quasi’s hand explodes in a shower of viscera and blood.