Logan was totally fine with the conversations that some would find long-winded, after all, they were important to his progression and protection of the land. Orichalcum had yet to show any signs of being against him, if anything it was just the fact he was not allowed to know of any other Oracles that wasn’t in his favour. Logan could understand the reasoning, however, as Oracles were quite vital to leaps and bounds within magical and mundane research.
It passed midday before the Spellthief was done with his meeting, plenty of new knowledge granted to him, as well as piles of tomes to read over when he had the chance. Though at this point Logan was well-versed in quick reading.
The senders of the third letter were the next location on his docket for the day. Entering a familiar set of alleyways and gardens, Logan returned to the site he had set up for his employees, hardly far away from his view of guildies.
The back alleys were now adorned with curtains and cloth that hung from rooftops to lantern poles—a veritable carnival of colour and lights that hid away the more downtrodden of the citizenry. Many of the denizens looked to be in brighter spirits than they had in recent times. Holey clothes and dirty rags had been replaced with suitable tunics and trousers, while leather shoes adorned their once-bare feet.
A hearty round of, “Welcome, Boss”, was heard as the inhabitants noticed Logan with Marcus in tow behind.
Logan gave a slow wave to acknowledge their greeting, enough for many to go back to their business. Some were sharpening blades, others were sewing fabric, and some did minor repair work on other pieces of gear. The more “formal” amongst them were around makeshift tables with quills and candles, scribbling across days-old parchment.
Roston, the level 2 Fighter, and Burton, the level 2 classless, approached Logan as he walked to one of the tables.
“Boss. You got the letter I see”, Roston spoke as he rubbed his chin.
Logan nodded, “That I did. I was glad to read the contents, but maybe you can explain a bit further.”
Roston nodded and waved his arm to another table. Following the two men, Logan and Marcus saw a crude map of the local area with several dots and notes.
“We were able to put down deposits on four dungeons for you. They will be held for a few months”, Burton explained as he handed four small slips of parchment to Logan, “They range from ranks 3 to 11. All full of spell-flinging monsters, at your request. We scouted out the locales and made some notes on local monster populations and adventurer traffic.”
“They were certainly stronger than what we could handle, so we stayed far back”, Roston added.
Logan looked over the notes before replying, “Great work, you two. I’ll make sure to handle these areas.”
“We also got a few new potentials. Thought it best you look over them.”
Logan was then brought to a new assortment of men and women, down on their luck and living from one generous hand to another. Fourteen in total, though some had hands wracked with ills and breaks.
“Hello, everyone. If you’re looking to join the Spell Daggers you’re fine to find a bed and live peacefully. If you want work and pay you need to have a specialty or the drive to learn. Are there any amongst you with a skill that could be put to use? Repair work, literacy, sketching.”
A few looked at each other before looking at their hands or the ground.
Logan used Identification on each recruit, pointed at one and approached them kindly, “You. What happened to your hands?”
“Sir. I drew a lord as he was and not how he wanted. They…”
Logan placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, “That’s alright. Marcus, if you wouldn’t mind.”
Marcus then stepped up and offered a hand to hold the man’s. “Magicks in my hand, fuse this flesh back together, stitch the wounds, and make them whole. Regeneration.”
Within seconds, the man’s fingers cracked and shifted the bones beneath. Flecked skin repaired itself as the hands looked like they had never seen a day’s work. No pain was felt, instead a wash of relief filled the man’s face as tears welled in his eyes.
“My… my hands. Sir, I can never repay—”
“The only repayment you need to make is to live each day to their fullest”, Marcus interrupted as he stood back.
“If you’re of the desire, we always need good cartographers in our questing squads. Roston can set you up”, Logan instructed.
The healed man nodded his head continuously, “Yes, my Lord, anything.”
Others began to take tiny steps towards Marcus, holding up weak hands which he took in his own to heal them.
Logan turned to Roston, “They all look fine to work to me. No troubles with the teams I take it?”
“None. As you requested, we only take on rankless tasks, or rank 1 with far more than needed to complete them.”
“Good”, Logan replied as he pulled out a new sword from his coat, “Here’s your new weapon. One for Burton too.”
The two men bowed to Logan as they took their new arms.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“I’ve been given some new tasks, so I will be a bit busy for a while. I can offer up Celsius on a few occasions but not for prolonged periods.”
“We will adapt where needs be.”
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Logan and Marcus spent some more time with the Spell Daggers before leaving for their final trip of the day. Though this one was a more consistent daily visit.
Making use of Teleport, the duo appeared within a large cavern, its walls adorned with aflame sconces and tables holding towers of books and waterskins.
Near the back of the cavern was the fenwahlash they had engaged with some time previously, reading a book and drinking from a large tankard.
“‘Nin. Time for me supper?” the demon asked as he put his book down.
Logan flourished his coat as a large bag fell out onto the floor. “It is indeed, Pogo.”
The fenwahlash, nicknamed Pogo due to his full name being a mouthful and a half, picked up the bag through Telekinesis and brought it towards him. “Oh, yer do treat me right. Dont’cha?”
Logan snapped his fingers as he opened up his palm.
“Oh, alright”, Pogo responded as he opened his maw. Letting loose black flames, the demon shot them at Logan’s palm, four getting absorbed into the Spellthief’s body while six singeing his arm that was quickly healed by Marcus.
Logan flicked his arm as smoke billowed off of it, “Damn, that still stings. That item is really going up on my to-do list.”
“Hey, you keep asking for it. Not my fault yer skill is a glutton for punishment.”
Logan tutted, “I didn’t choose it, but I will abuse the below out of it.”
Pogo laughed, “Now there’s the right attitude. Grab what’s thrown at ya. Speaking of”, he said as he threw a small bag at Logan, “Those things you were afta.”
Logan caught the bag with ease and put it in his coat-inventory. “Thanks. It’s nice to have a demon around for these kinds of requests”, he said sarcastically.
“Suppose I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”
“As usual. You’re a fast track to mastering this skill. Also, seems like you won’t have any visitors from my end, you’ll just have to keep an ear out for passersby.”
“What? No devoted worshipers of my greatness? Scam, a scam I tell ya.”
Logan began to shake his head, but quickly took on an alarmed face as a ringing ran through his head. Grabbing onto Marcus, the pair Teleported away instantly.
“Was it something I said?” Pogo asked the quiet.
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Deep within a dark cave, far away from where the pair had just been, countless glowing yellow eyes preyed upon a cornered band of adventurers. All garbed in fancy-looking armour and cloth with the VIP symbol sewn into them. If it weren’t for the dark, the beads of sweat rolling down their faces would have glistened.
“Get ‘em!” A gruff man ordered, the eyes now clanking with metal and shuffling with leather as they charged down the five would-be adventurers in the cave.
“Logan!” one of the guildies shouted into the dark as they raised their sword to defend.
With a clang of metal, the attack against the guildie was deflected. Sparks shone against an apparating Logan as he parried the sword swing and blasted back the man almost a hundred feet into a far wall.
As the flames dissipated, the cave returned to darkness for but a moment before Logan summoned up his Light Ally, revealing 29 remaining men and women, traitors to their very end.
Marcus jumped into action, hearty punches and kicks at the offenders, while Logan stook close to his guildies.
Parrying downward swings with his dagger, Logan followed up with underhand spells of varying elements. In the times when he couldn’t get a clear hit, or was pushed to do so, Logan had to grab ahold of his teammates to pull them from danger or push them aside as larger weapons came at them.
As the battle proceeded, Logan continued to drop daggers to the floor, until twenty littered the rocky cavern floor. With his off-hand, Logan twiddled his fingers to animate the daggers to fly around the chamber. The flying blades met the opposite forces’ weapons or met their backs with deep gouges.
Throwing his dagger into the air, Logan sparked the air with a Lightning Cascade, the blue arcs penetrating ten of the foes at once.
It seemed as if there were more than the initial group, however, as more flooded the chamber with blades and bludgeons. Not wanting stray hits to endanger his allies, Logan jumped back with a flip, landed his hands and feet on his guildies, and Teleported them back to the guild. In an instant, he returned to finish the job.
“Lightning Cascade 2nd”, Logan chanted, two forks of azure bolting from his hands to take down even more of the chaotic foes ahead of him.
Casting spells wasn’t an easy option going forward, though, as the incoming traitor supply was endless. Logan parried sword and board alike as they tried to overwhelm the Spellthief, but their quantity wasn't as powerful as his quality.
Warping behind his foes, Logan landed deft daggers into their backs to deal with them quickly. A trio of teleportations saw six enemies brought down.
“Who the hell are these guys?” Logan questioned in his head.
The answer wasn’t going to come quick, though, instead, Logan was just replied to with many more attacks.
Marcus continued to hold his own, snapping weapons with his fists and kicking his opponents into the rocky walls.
“You came!” a saeber yelled as they entered the fray near one of the corridor archways.
Logan couldn’t recognise the dark-brown furred creature, but it seemed they recognised him.
“Hold ‘em off for a few moments!” the saeber yelled at their underlings, a final charge of sorts following the command.
Logan noticed what the saeber was attempting, the unique transformation their species held that turned them bipedal and heightened their capabilities.
“No you don’t”, Logan thought to himself as he Jaunted above the saeber whose body started to generate electricity. Aiming two hands downward, Logan let forth two casts of Devastation Flame, erupting the sabertooth tiger-like creature with black flames.
A massive roar of pain followed the ignition of death, shortly trailed by a thump as the untransformed body hit the floor.
“Boss!” several of the goons shouted as their leader was felled swiftly.
Falling over their own allies, the ambushers attempted to flee the scene. The two exits were blocked by Logan and Marcus, both with hands prized up at their prey, alighting with magical energies.
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Chapter 195 - Ambush Level XP [https://i.postimg.cc/bJCJrYdy/Chapter-195-Ambush-Level-XP.png]
“Level up! Gain: 8 HP, +1 Str, +2 Agi, +1 Con, +2 Int, +1 Wis, +1 Cha. You have 1 attribute point to spend.”
“What the below was that about.”
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