Though there were others before me from type-F worlds, we weren’t as common as other types of supernatural origins that ended up in New Bay. I’d been the first magic user in the Power Brigade, and there weren’t a ton even in Extra. Thus, our occasional attempts to bring through more allies were less than fruitful.
The remaining people I knew with classes that we should be able to bring through weren’t great choices. That included the Martian gangsters, Tylissa and Jerome, or even Izzy. Asking her to come help rescue my friend in an emergency was one thing, but Izzy wasn’t looking for a life of battle. That other friend was of course Ceira, and she didn’t have anything we couldn’t get among the elves.
Mostly, we wanted more people who were experienced with guns and the like. Plus, each person we got was another than the elves didn’t have to take away from defending their territory.
We tried to bring through a number of magic adjacent individuals, but I hadn’t really possessed much hope. Jim made the attempt, but he wasn’t really magic. Just an extradimensional monstrosity- biologically speaking, of course. As a person, he was a great fellow. Lady Light would have probably been very useful, but she was just powered, not magic.
Communication was difficult across planes, so we were pretty much getting by with a single Sending and Gate each day.
“I would have expected Extra to have a greater number of… magically inclined individuals,” I commented to Malaliel as another batch of people were entirely rejected.
Malaliel shook her head. “Magic isn’t that common. And don’t forget that we aren’t primarily a military organization, but an administrative one. We do have people who can help enforce certain restrictions, but mostly we rely on locals. So the majority of magic users within our ranks are noncombatants.”
“That makes sense,” I said. Apparently most people who ended up in another world, when given the choice between a peaceful job and battle, would choose the former. I thought it was weird, but based on the numbers I was probably the weird one. But that was fine, because I was happy. “What about on Mars?”
“Oh, not at all,” Malaliel shook her head. “Far fewer. They’re focused more on disturbances originating within the same dimension as the Sol system.”
“How about Yew-Kay?” I asked. “Aren’t they supposed to have a bunch of magic and stuff?”
“Do you not know?” Malaliel tilted her head.
“Hey, I’ve been busy catching up on all the threats in New Bay. And fighting half of them,” I pointed out. “I haven’t really had time to look into other places that much.”
Midnight chuckled. “I looked up some of that when we went. It seems that in the past they had quite high rates of extradimensional, magic based incursion- leading to the legends they pass down today. As another hotbed of activity, they currently have more super powers than other things. I’m not sure why, though.”
Malaliel shrugged. “It’s unclear, but it’s a worldwide phenomenon. At some point, supernatural incidents became more frequent- or perhaps returned to a greater rate of frequency. Even though there might have been magic in the past, if it did exist it did not remain and faded into legend.”
How odd. Could you just lose magic? I suppose if you had no mana, but it was pretty much a constant even on Earth. There were just places with more or less.
-----
A few days passed, and we didn’t manage to bolster our ranks. Whatever was going on with the barrier between worlds was fairly restrictive. If we were in a state of actual emergency it might have been possible to immediately prioritize our mission, but while Malaliel certainly believed this to be important, it wasn’t going to immediately cause chaos in the next week or two. Meanwhile, there were various issues on Earth that might.
Thus, we had to continue on with our same group. There was nothing wrong with it, except that people weren’t as high of level as we might have liked. Then again, the Portal Squad was constantly growing. A few days of intensive training wasn’t enough to gain levels, but anyone who hadn’t leveled from actual battle was close. Levels granted more maximum mana… and points, which people were quite happy to spend.
Having taken down several enemy patrols, our contributions had been noticed by Duke Ruvyn. He supplied us with a small number of healing potions, though sadly they had nothing to help with mana. So we’d just have to try to avoid running into battles in quick succession.
With new information we had gained from our captures, we had a slightly better idea where we might want to go- and where we wouldn’t want to go. Because approaching an enemy city sounded like a bad time. It didn’t matter whether it was dark elves or anyone else, they wouldn’t be fond of the presence of enemies. Hopefully if there were any portals they were not in the middle of anywhere populated. Though if they got to choose the exact locations said portals opened, we might not have any luck.
I looked at the vial dangling in front of me, a reddish-brown liquid in thick glass. It was a small vial, just a couple ounces.
“How good are potions?” Midnight asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t really had an opportunity to use any. They’re kind of expensive for daily use.” After I got into scuffles when I was younger I would have bandages or occasionally the local cleric would provide a small bit of healing, but since I never had any heavy injuries magic was kind of a waste. And I wouldn’t have been able to pay for proper treatment. I looked over at Sir Kalman. “How strong are potions?”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“About the same as you’d expect for the level of mana in them,” Sir Kalman said. “Though they focus on quick acting. Things like stopping bleeding and the like. If you’ve got the good ones, at least, which the Duke certainly provided. It’s not going to close up a gash, but it’ll give you an opportunity to get properly stitched up.”
“Aww. I was hoping for something cooler,” I commented.
“If you want higher quality, you’ll have to find an elusive grandmaster somewhere,” Sir Kalman shrugged.
“... Why doesn’t Entheas have any?”
“Why would they?” Sir Kalman asked.
“Why wouldn’t they?” I asked. “Whoever made this has to be like, a few hundred years old right? Seems like anyone could be super high level easily enough. Like Lyklor.”
The old elf could probably hear me talking, but he made no comment.
“Not everyone grows that fast.”
“Yeah but with that long to grow, I’d expect them to all have Aspect of the Sloth or something,” I grumbled. “Do they? Are all elves cursed to not grow quickly?”
Lyklor did provide an answer for that one. “We do tend to gain levels more slowly,” he commented. “Though our limitations are not so severe as to completely hamper us. However, many people lose passion for their chosen class over time. Others choose their class later in life once they’ve found their passion. And the cause and effect are tied together. We have so long… why would we rush to grow?”
I grimaced. “I’d still expect people to eventually get very good at things. Like you.”
“Some do. Many don’t,” Lyklor concluded.
The overall answer was unsatisfying. What irked me most was that he implied some people didn’t care about improving their level. And here I was, trying so hard for the majority of my life for practically no gain.
“... How do people survive so long without choosing a class?” I asked.
“Simple. They don’t fight,” Sir Kalman responded. “Most people don’t fight.”
“Indeed,” Lyklor nodded. “Most of us avoid battle. And a slower pace lends itself to fewer accidents. For the most part, that also means staying out of conflicts. Our underground relatives, even if traditionally our enemies, also operate on a longer time frame. No doubt they are quite surprised about how aggressive our explorations are.”
“So that’s why you needed the Order, even though you’re an entire nation,” I commented.
“Yes. Plus… unfamiliarity with these ‘lasers’. They have no feel of magic, and even those who tried to counter them thusly found it difficult. Most had assumed that because of the results of the weapons, they were weapons of fire.”
Sir Kalman nodded. “And… not everyone is so adaptable with their usage of Energy Ward as you,” he commented. “They’re good at the basic elements, but against light… well, it works, but not as well as yours.”
“Really?” I tilted my head. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely. The effectiveness I’ve observed with you and the reports from my men are quite different.”
I grumbled. There magic went again, not working just because people expected it to be a certain way. Like, I don’t know, only growing from points. Though that wasn’t completely psychological because it seemed to require physical exposure to other places for some reason. That might have been the weirdest part. Though with how many weird things I’d discovered, it was difficult to rank them.
-----
With Flower and Miss Flutter scouting for us, we were able to avoid several enemy patrols that would have been a pain to encounter. Experience was nice, but being mobbed by locals would make that worse. Well, if people died. And I supposed some people would be upset if they lost limbs or organs, even though those could be grown back.
It would be easy to get lost in deep tunnels if we weren’t careful, but we had various individuals who could help us retrace our steps at the bare minimum. We also had primitive maps, but sadly they were only approximates.
I was constantly keeping on the lookout for concentrations of mana that would indicate people. Or cities. Or portals. I actually noticed a few outposts in the distance, though we were already avoiding them. The good thing about tunnels was that there weren’t long sightlines, so watchtowers and the like weren’t able to spot us skulking in enemy territory. They needed patrols for that.
Flower and Miss Flutter came back with a report. They screeched at Zeb and Lyklor. Zeb did her best to translate first.
“There’s a weird thing?” the black and white canine tilted her head. “With small spears?” The smaller bat attempted to clarify. “I don’t know what one of those is,” Zeb admitted. “A… spear-rat?”
“A porcupine,” Lyklor explained.
“Oh. I still don’t know what that is.”
“If Bunvorix had them,” Midnight commented. “You probably eliminated them.”
“Oh nooo!!” Zeb cried out. “Another cute and cuddly thing gone?”
“Nope,” I said. “They’re spiky, which is quite the opposite of cuddly.”
Zeb thought for a few moments. “You didn’t say they weren’t cute, though. So if you’re careful…?”
“Don’t try it,” I said. “They’re extremely good at sticking their quills in snouts of things that are investigating them.”
“Okaaaaay,” Zeb said begrudgingly. “But we’re still going to go see it, right?” Flower continued to chatter. “Oh, it’s not a cave animal? So it doesn’t belong here. That means it needs rescue! Then we can be companions!”
“Or it’s a companion of someone else already,” I said. “In which case, it might belong to the enemy.”
“... then it needs two rescues!”
“Sure. But we need to be cautious.”
Our group was led along by the bats, and I soon noticed something magical. Something that tried to hide when we approached the cave it was in. Though that didn’t do much good against the bats, and because it couldn’t help but poke its head around the top of a stalagmite to get a look at us.
Zeb was sniffing around. We’d had a chance to resupply, which included a modified pair of night vision goggles that kind of fit her. But she clearly found her nose more effective. “There you are, miss porcupine! Hi, we’re gonna be friends!”
To my surprise, the porcupine crawled more into view over the top of the stalagmite. And then spoke. “Well, as long as you don’t intend to shoot any lasers at me like those others, I suppose we might.”
I wasn’t sure what was more confusing. The fact that the porcupine knew what lasers were, or that I knew what it was saying but not what language it was speaking. The fact that it could speak at all didn’t particularly register as something abnormal.