This time, Prince had been summoned by Lady Silverhair to a place that was painfully familiar to him.
It was the ruins of his hometown that he was transported along with from the material plan to the divine plan. Where it would be preserved forever as a reminder of its builders’ folly against the gods. And the reason he got stranded from his pride, as a young cub, right after his first death, in the destruction of the very city that gave birth to his kind.
A former glorious metropolis of unchained magic and a marvel of magical cooperation, engineering, and architecture, destroyed by the unbridled ambition of a single archmage trying to ascend to godhood. And in the case of Prince and his kind, the downfall and betrayal of the creator they already considered as their god, for gifting them their wings and sapience.
Even after all this time, Prince did not know why the system chose him and made him into a planner tied to those ruins. And the reason for the nickname the gods gave him.
Prince.
As in “Prince of Nothing”, the last standing spoiled 'child' of that wannabe-god-archmage.
Since then, he had learned that the city and its inhabitants were not truly gone as he first thought. But that they were preserved in a time loop on a separate ‘prison’ demi-plane, forever condemned to repeatedly rise and fall, one ambitious archmage at a time, to serve a warning for passing by travelers.
So Lady Silverhair choosing to meet him in such a place... It was also a reminder that she was watching him closely. Or at the very least, that she knew about the Broken Bell Collar of Hiraeth Shelter.
“I have been waiting,” the goddess greeted him menacingly.
“I wish you might accept my humble apologies, Milady, my Mistress had been overly cautious for the past two floors since they first got ambushed by those Raptors.” The tressym tried and failed to justify his lateness
“And I think this human is making you forget your place.” The goddess retorted unkindly, shutting him up before showing him Miirik's status screen.
“I can see your work in there.” She accused. “I know you set her up to get Hellish Cuisine. And not only did she survive against all odds, but she is about to get yet another one of my precious boons because of you.”
And then, she took him by the throat and hanged him in the air at eye level, while still managing to look down on him.
“My instructions were crystal clear: I want her on her last leg, desperate and groveling at my feet for help. And I want her indebted to me and wagging her tail at my every order. Tell me: Does it look like you made good progress toward this goal?”
“Nope.” The feline managed to reply with labored breathing.
“Fine. I see you understand now.” She said before holding him even closer. “Any more boons with your name on them, any more lapse in judgment, any more foolish attempt to impress me instead of following orders, proof that you forgot your place or tried to cross me again with your usual shenanigans and I will squeeze your neck until your brains pop out. Thanks to you, my pawn got promoted and is now my top priority. I want this girl and I want her for yesterday.”
Then, she started shaking him to emphasize her every word: “DON’T FORGET WHO YOUR TRUE MISTRESS IS.”
And finally, she lazily threw him on the hard marble floor before turning around.
“And she better die again before you do!” She said once again before vanishing.
And Prince started shaking himself to remove the goddess filth from him.
That bastard goddess did not know he helped Miirik get her archery boon or she would have done more than just threaten him. But for bringing him back to this awful place and the way she treated him like he was one of her toys?
It would cost her one more of her precious boons. Prince would make sure of it. Cause he was a free Tressym and would die a hundred times before he bowed in fear or reverence to a false god once again.
★☆★
Once she was finally feeling good enough to get up, Sophia found herself under the watchful care of Moana, staring down at her like a hawk would its prey.
For all her calm, quiet, and gentle character, that girl was damn intimidating.
“Hello, Moana. For how long I have been out?” She asked without preamble.
“Good afternoon to you too. You have been out for a day and a half.” The field surgeon replied professionally.
That was really bad news. That meant they only had about the same amount of time left to complete this floor's trials. She tried to stand up from her bed but her would-be nurse forced her back into a sitting position, stating calmly:
“Nope. I did not painstakingly put you back together for you to undo my work minutes after waking up. You are going to behave and let me do my job. Okay?”
A bit startled by the girl's assertiveness, Sophia kept staring blankly at her, who returned her gaze sternly until she finally had the presence of mind to nod.
“Your magic is nasty.” She stated as if talking about the weather. “It had burst out of you without care for its host. Your bones are brittle. Your muscles are stressed. And some of your veins had burst under the pressure. And you got second to third-degree burns all over your body. I had to perform several surgeries and skin transplants to prevent you from dying from internal bleeding and skin necrosis.”
That was actually worse than she thought she had been but true enough, she was no medical expert.
“Even with my help, you should be undergoing severe trauma for weeks, under extreme pain, had you not started healing while singing in your sleep. It was quite impressive.” The field surgeon admitted, looking bothered by the fact before concluding:
“Anyway, you won’t go anywhere until you do it again .”
That was a sensible request. It only had one little flaw:
“I can’t. I can only heal myself and my allies once per fight.” Sophia explained, feeling down.
“Well. That’s unfortunate.” Moana conceded before mumbling grimly: “We will have to bargain for someone else's healing then. It’s not gonna be cheap.”
It seems that a lot happened if any sort of organized trade of goods and services had started while she was out. But it was hardly surprising. Once people got gold, they were bound to start exchanging things to get the 25 gold needed to get a spell, causing a paradigm shift among the human representatives.
“With all due respect, forget about it. It’s not going to happen.” Sophia ruled it out.
They needed all the gold they could get. They needed all the resources they had. And they couldn’t afford to lose anything to what amounted to medical precaution.
“So you value your gold more than you value your life?” Moana retorted, displeased.
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“Correction: I value my freedom more than I value your opinion.” Sophia lashed out in the same tone and immediately regretted it.
The girl had stormed out of the room, crying with suppressed rage that should have been directed toward her instead of whatever unfortunate soul would get in her way.
Anyway, she got out of bed and found nothing amiss.
She might not be back to peak superhuman conditions yet but she was still a lot better than she used to be, back on Earth. She could tell that it would be her new normal for waking up on a bad day. She was feeling sore but it was not affecting her movements. And she thought she was still weak by her new normal, she could probably ace any gymnastic Olympic competition like it was nothing.
Still, the sensation of metaphysical strain on whatever magical system muscle she had was back. It would probably be a good idea not to use her magic or train excessively until she felt better. But she honestly never planned to.
She could chill a little and let her team do the hard work. So long they were not overly threatened or hard-pressed on time.
★☆★
The streets of the armors’ city were now overcrowded with people.
With the lesser dragon and the sentient armors now well and truly gone, it was the closest thing to a safe zone everyone had ever experienced. They had roofs over their heads, things to exchange, and apparently, the chief from the last floor camp had opened a temporary business selling detoxified dragon meat. Plus, everyone was still searching for the key to the dragon treasury and Sophia almost felt bad for all of them wasting their time. Almost.
And so, Sophia had to see the city with her own two eyes. In the meantime, Moana had found a shoulder to cry over in Paolo, while Lono and Michel were gone exploring the city on their own.
Paolo: I screwed up with Moana. Thank you for taking care of her. I’m going for a walk. Tell me when the coast is clear to come back.
Michel: People are sniffing around our treasure and that's your share we are talking about. I need you to get back to business and start thinking of a plan to sneak in unnoticed.
It wasn’t technically their treasure. But after putting so much effort into that chain chest puzzle, she would be extremely bothered if it got stolen right under her nose.
Thankfully, the dragon had been paranoid and all attempts to lockpick or unlock the door with magic had proved unsuccessful. Or most likely, it was the system enforcing its design, to prevent people from bypassing its puzzle entirely.
A puzzle so well crafted that she almost missed it on the central forge. It was only thanks to other people's greed that she found the key needed to open the dragon treasury. The very same key everyone else was now searching for in vain, cause she made the key and kept the mould, to prevent anyone else from doing the same.
But right now, she was going to meet and greet the last floor chief doing business on her kill.
The seemingly old woman was a colorful character in her own right.
Godfather Death’s Chosen.
She was a Cleric of one of many gods of death, albeit one of that lawful good. But because of her God, she was caring the price of her new worship in her flesh, decaying a bit more each time she lost a life, as a friendly reminder from her deity that no one truly escaped death in the end.
Yet, it was also a deity that allowed her to accomplish true miracles, like mass healing hundreds of people or apparently, detoxifying poisoned meat by the bucket load.
“Oh! Hello Sophia! I was hoping to see you. Come here! Come here!” the former chief called her as soon as she reached the old throne room. “Everyone, here is Sophia. The very person who made all this possible. And here I get to settle that debt once and for all. Here is for you: five kilograms of the best dragon meat, entirely for free.”
It was a difficult situation to handle for Sophia. On one hand, she definitely deserved a lot more than five kilograms for slaying the dragon. But on the other hand, she shared the feat with nine other people who had yet to claim their share. And that cunning woman and her team did get the job done, dealing with the entire carcass and purifying the meat to make the finished product.
It was a difficult matter to handle, especially as she had no intention to start another fight.
“Thanks for the meat.” She said, trying her best to keep smiling. “But I came here to discuss revenue sharing. For myself and the nine others who died killing that thing.”
And so the old woman did her best not to sound disappointed:
“I see. I’m currently selling this food for 1 gold worth of material per 5 kilogram. And given the dragon meat property, I have no shortage of buyers. However, I learned that there were only 160 gold in circulation, of which 32 already belong to you.
To put things into perspective, my team only made a little over 20 gold in actual true gold we cannot part with. So, how do you want to be paid? Do you want some more meat? Or do you want to pick your share from the junk people are actually paying me with?”
Those were all reasonable arguments. If they did not make enough for even one spell, they would be reluctant to part with even a single coin. And she would look unreasonable and greedy to ask for more after that woman had gone public telling everyone how much gold she already had to her name.
Asking to be paid in meat was equally unreasonable as it probably amounted to more than she could probably eat before leaving this floor. As for the junk, it was mostly equipment in severe state of disrepair that might only get value once she reached the next floor. And a quick look at the pile told her that nothing in it was worth overburdening herself with it.
The old woman and her team were in for the long-term trade business and would sell those repaired goods at a premium on the next floor.
“How about an official business partnership instead?” Sophia proposed.
“Now, that’s interesting,” the old woman said rubbing her hands. “What’s your offer?”
“I keep creating opportunities for you to do business on the upper floors. And you keep facilitating my job by generously ‘sponsoring’ my team whenever I ask for it. And when we get out of this tutorial, my team get 12% of your overall profit, 2% each.”
12% was a big ask on the merchant team. But to cement further cooperation and potentially increase their overall benefit several times over? It was not such a bad deal. But of course, that old fox would not accept without some bartering:
“My team is thrice as large as yours and they will be doing most of the work. They deserve their share. I can give you 6% top.”
However, Sophia could do the math and knew how to deconstruct your argument:
“You are asking my team to share as much collectively as you would, individually. 12% was reasonable, you would still get twice as much as we would. 6% isn’t. If you want to make a counteroffer, please keep it reasonable.”
And so the old woman did:
“I would accept the 12% only if you give up on that foolish sponsorship idea. Instead, I propose to put things on your tabs whenever you need them. It would be subtracted from your final share.”
It was flipping the negotiation table in a way that made Sophia sound unreasonable if she did not accept. The Death Cleric was offering her everything she asked for while counteroffering the arguably unreasonable part of her offer.
Merchants did not like unknown quantities and her undefined sponsorship was one such unknown quantity. On the other hand, keeping things on her tab to be removed from her share was perfectly reasonable. If she was too greedy, she would end up with next to nothing. If she asked for little to no support, she would get almost the full 12% she was asking for.
It gave Sophia an incentive to be reasonable with her future demands while also conceding her point.
“Okay, 12% and you keep things on my tabs.” Sophia conceded “But we are officially partners now, so you better not try to reap me off.”
“I would not dream of it.” The old man said with a raucous laugh.
They both knew she was lying. But Sophia did not care. A deal was a deal and she would get her fair share, one way or another.
★☆★
That night, the team enjoyed the feast.
The poisoning and the detoxification had lessened its quality. But even then, and even lesser, dragon meat had unique magical properties.
It temporarily boosted healing and magical regeneration. But moreover, it even marginally but permanently increased magical affinity. The lore books said that eating true dragon meat could even help someone break through to higher circles spells practically overnight.
However, the odds of surviving such a fight made it more fables than hard-known facts.
Yet, even that much had not helped alleviate tensions within the group, which were entirely Sophia's fault. She completely disregarded Moana's opinion in what was essentially her job. She had then had let Paolo deal with it instead of doing it herself like a grown-up adult. And of course, Lono would always side with her sister.
This meant that only Michel was somewhat awkwardly and non-committally sticking to her side, exchanging ideas for the heist they planned to pull off on the dragon treasury.
Yes, she proved that Moana's opinion was wrong and yes, she did something productive of what little was left of her day. But that did not change the fact that she was wrong and what she said was uncalled for. Thinking about it, both Paolo and Michel had accepted that side of her personality and she mostly never bothered to apologize to any of them.
Only Prince had somewhat tried to rebel against it, though it was always short-lived, as the proud tressym always let her win with his trademark ‘You are the boss’ which always sounded like an insult.
But now, and for the first time since she entered the tutorial, she was faced with someone who wasn’t willing to deal with her shitty temperament and demanded actual human decency.
The thing was: her usual strategy of attempting to buy the girl forgiveness with food cooked with love while trying her best to convey how sorry she was had actually critically backfired this time around.
It turned out that this girl was the incorruptible and resentful type. And only time would tell if forgiveness was on the table at all.
In the meantime, the meal had been sour, good food had been wasted and the delicious meat had been weighing down heavily on Sophia's stomach as she went back to sleep early for the night.