Sebas led two customers out of the Corner Shop™.

“Thank you for your business, and we hope to serve you once more in the future,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

Business was picking up. From their usual two to three visitors, they now had more than a dozen a day. Healing pills and Lifesavers™ were the usual draws — but a few came for their over-priced weapons and enchanting services. Oddly, there were a few travelers that came by for sundries with their kids in tow.

His master’s days got a bit busier — but he still made time for his otherworldly pursuits. Today, he left for the ethereal plane to make more golems.

Sebas had a vague idea of what they truly were — but he had chosen not to find out. That way he could say that he didn’t know what they were if ever he was questioned. It would be the truth no matter what magics they used. Then again, his master said his golems were resistant to radiant energy or divine magics — which made him doubt if his theories were correct.

His eyes strayed to the windows as he was going back to the counter — drawn by the screams coming from the field. Shelby’s golem was at it again — chasing after the farmhands as they played their football-like game.

The thing still had the Painful Staff of Pain sticking out of it like a flag. He found it strange that his master would leave it behind just to cater to Shelby — especially when his forays to the ether were not so safe.

Sebas was about to turn away when he noticed that Shelby was not on the field. How did the golem know who to chase after? Or did the snail instruct it to chase after the nearest boy?

He watched the game for a few more minutes. He studied the golems movements and found them fascinating. If he had to guess, Shelby’s commands were to chase after the nearest boy, hold them for a few seconds, let go, go back to the center of the field, and then repeat the commands from the start. They were very complex commands to issue — especially for a snail.

He also found it fascinating how Shelby incorporated a game within a game. She added complexity to the game by introducing an element of danger and pain — which seemed apt considering the world they were in.

Compared to the farmhands, Min’s orphans were progressing more slowly. Gwin and Rem came by to visit them over the past few days and offered to guide them with their practice. He would also visit the barn after the store closed to offer pointers as well as monitor their use of the godstones.

His master reminded him to replace spent ones as soon as possible. He didn’t want the new mages to be tainted with the world’s mana. He also said he had a way to cleanse the air around the Corner Shop™ — but it was likely tied to his dangerous Spire Project.

His master had a lot of things in his mind — aside from the multitude of demons already there. However, Sebas was growing a tad bit alarmed that he wasn’t mentioning the attack on the duke’s estate. It was supposed to happen in three days — yet his master chose to focus on growing his golem army instead of planning for the duke’s defense.

Dallarath and his adventurers were constantly honing their skills and coordination. They took assignments that were risky but short — allowing them to gain experience and stay close to Bountiful.

Experience was a strange thing. He could probably put a number to it if he wanted actual statistics. It was tied to life force — or something tied to every living creature. This life force grew inside men and monsters — but death disperses it.

Adventurers gained experience by killing monsters and absorbing their life force or just being around monsters as they died. The lives of men were also a source of experience. Sebas read of rulers who waged war or sacrificed their people — just to strengthen a chosen few.

The world rewarded killing with power. The kind stayed weak and the ruthless thrived.

He stared once more at the farmhands running on the field. They were a puzzle that he couldn’t figure out. They harnessed power from a source that he couldn’t detect. A power that they said came from the earth.

It didn’t seem to change the boys. He didn’t notice any hints of increased aggression or sociopathy — but maybe it was too soon to make a conclusion.

A familiar pulse of power made him turn to the door. His master was coming back. He rushed outside in time to see the first wisps of the swirling blackness of the portal. It seemed larger than usual.

The blackness gave way to what seemed like a dark cavern. Sebas was surprised to see Shelby coming out of the portal — but he should have anticipated that after noting her absence on the field. She returned to her golem and its strange game with the farmhands.

Sebas strained his eyes to see through the darkness. He could barely see the outline of his master, lugging along something huge.

***

Warden watched as Scourge tugged the huge stone turtle in an empty field beside the Corner Shop™. The entity he conferred with said it would be helpful against their fight against the unclean mana — but the farmhand wasn’t so sure.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The mana in the air was like an invasive species that took over a farm. They were like snails from another country or those melon-sized frogs that ate everything. Introducing another foreign species into the mix would only complicate the problem — and he believed the turtle was one such thing.

Then again, who was he to judge matters of global consequence? In a fight between primordial powers, he was but a pebble trying to change the course of rivers. Perhaps the turtle was a bigger pebble.

“There.”

The floating disk that carried the stone statue sunk to the ground, allowing it to stand on its own. Warden was waiting for the statue to start moving, but it stayed still even after a few minutes.

He tried to commune with the Earth to find out what to do next but was unsuccessful. It seemed like the entity was too engrossed with the turtle. Even now he could see wisps of energy emanating from the ground and seeping into the statue.

“Another game.”

He shook his head at Dylan. Kickball was fun but he wasn’t in the mood to play.

“That wasn’t a question,” Dylan insisted. “Shelby wanted to change things up. She brought the other snails to play with us.”

Warden frowned as he headed to the field. He knew that Shelby was somehow training them for battle — but he wanted a peaceful life for his cousins.

At least the game was all about reaching a destination and avoiding obstacles. He rued the day it would involve makeshift weapons and hitting targets.

He stared at the field. It was now separated into four by three lines. One that cut across the middle and another two that cut across the opposite halves. The smaller snails were gliding across the lines.

Warden could somehow guess what it entailed. Shelby wanted to add another element of danger into their game. First, it was the golem she called Staffany and now it was the snails. He assumed the snails would stay within the thin lines and they would have to avoid them while running across the field.

It made the game more difficult, but it also increased their chances of survival in case they had to run across difficult terrain. At least the snails wouldn’t be painful.

***

Jeremy stared at the bruised and beaten figure of the boy before him. Warden was the oldest of his group, but he was still a couple of years away from adulthood and the problems that came along with it.

“I could heal all that if I could get my staff,” he offered.

Warden seemed to shrink, as if he offered him poison.

“Thank you, sir — but I’ll pass,” he declined. “I’ve had my run-ins with Staffany on the field. I’m not too fond of his touch.”

The boy’s words confused Jeremy. Who was this Steffany? And why would a boy have a girl’s name? He didn’t recall seeing a towering boy, or girl for that matter, on the field with the boys — certainly not one who could give Warden such a heavy beating.

“That bruise is the size of a child’s head? What did he do — ram you with his head?”

Warden merely shook his head — perhaps too ashamed to explain.

“You were saying something about the turtle? You said it was important to the earth or whatever entity you were in contact with. Well, there it is outside.”

Yes,” Warden started to speak. “The Earth told me the turtle could help in its battle against the otherworldy mana that permeated the world.”

“You mean the world’s mana isn’t its own?” Jeremy asked. He always- found it strange that the world’s mana seemed impure compared to infernal mana. He supposed it was just natural — but now the boy was telling him that wasn’t the case.”

“I was told that the first wizards came from another world,” Warden started his tale. “They came from a dying world — one rich in mana. They opened a gate to our world and used their knowledge and power to create permanent gates to their world and ours.”

The boy paused to stare at him — perhaps wondering if he was listening. Perhaps making a spell matrix in front of him distracted the boy or made it seem like his mind was somewhere else.

It was and it wasn’t. The constant stream of thoughts in his mind allowed him to divide his consciousness into multiple parts. Three to be exact. He could read a book and listen to someone talk — while also performing calculation problems. It wasn’t an impressive feat, but he found it useful.

Now, he was listening to the boy, creating a spell matrix that would shield an entire world from prying demonic eyes, and making plans for an expanded golem production plant somewhere in the mines.

“Go on,” Jeremy waved a hand, while still adjusting the glowing spell matrix in front of him. “First wizards came to the world, linked ours to theirs, made permanent gates. I assume those gates are in several volcanoes around the continents.”

The shock in the boy’s face told him that he was right about the volcanoes. He always thought they seemed odd. They were spaced too evenly as if by design.”

“All the volcanoes,” the boy answered. “At least the ones above ground.”

“All of them?” he asked. He could note at least eight volcanoes that seemed to follow a pattern — the rest of them seemed random, so he assumed they were natural.

The boy nodded and Jeremy gestured for him to continue.

“The entity told me to bring the stone turtle here,” Warden explained. “It sensed a kindred spirit on the stone I was wearing. It might be looking for allies to fight against the invasive mana — but I’m not sure if bringing a dead god into our world was the right move.”

Jeremy stared at the boy as he processed his words about invasive mana. The boy was worried about bringing something foreign or alien into the world — and there he was thinking of building spires that would flood nearby areas with infernal mana.

“Perhaps bringing new mana into the world wasn’t such a bad thing?”

The boy frowned before launching into a tirade.

“Insane wizards, bloodthirsty soldiers, wars waged for no reason — all because of the corruption of mana,” Warden clenched his fists in anger. “Even Mister Sebas says the world’s mana has a corrupting effect.”

“Then we shall cleanse the world of its filth,” Jeremy stated. There was no downside to indulging the boy aside from the wrath of every Arcane guildhall in the continent — but who would know what they were doing.

He also planned to help the boy in his own way by introducing clean infernal mana into certain parts of the world — particularly the ones where his future minions apprentices would dominate inhabit.