Logan stood at the edge of the opening where their camp stood in mute shock. For a moment he thought he had gotten lost and ended up somewhere else. But no… This was their camp, he recognized the people.

It was just that it looked very, very different.

First of all there were a lot more people. Dozens of people Logan simply didn’t recognize. And they were working with tools Logan had never seen. A handsome guy with a beard was working with something that looked like a vacuum cleaner on the ground. It was laying a thin layer of cement on the forest floor, seemingly conjured out of nowhere.

Another person was pushing the logs Simmons had piled up through a buzz-saw mounted between two large logs. On the ground they had a pile of crude, roundbacked planks on the other end of the contraption.

A third person nearby, a short young girl of fifteen or so with jet black hair was on her knees, operating a little oven made of iron. It had no fire visible anywhere, but Logan saw the girl pull a bowl of hardened clay, using a pair of thick woolen mittens.

For a moment Logan just stared at it all in awe. How had they suddenly acquired magic tools? Did someone also have a class like Logan? How did they get all the Numa to make these things? Logan needed to find a familiar face.

Logan was attacked by Freya the second he came further into the camp. Despite the dirty hair and no makeup, she was still gorgeous as she ran towards Logan in her black and blue snakekin attire. She jumped at him, and Logan instinctively grabbed her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

“Frey, you’re breaking a rib.”

“Good,” she muttered. “You deserve it.”

Logan hugged her back fiercely. Sure it hadn’t been more than a couple of days, but that was a long time when you didn’t know if you were going to be alive tomorrow.

“And why do you smell like booze?” Freya asked as they untangled.

“You smell amazing as always,” Logan said.

Freya blushed and smiled, but soon recovered. She wagged a finger. “Ah-ah, no dodging questions.”

“Since when do I listen to rules?”

“If you made a booze-stash somewhere, I could really use a drink,” Freya said as she looked Logan up and down. “I’ve had a hell of a week.”

Logan told her the quick and dirty version of what had happened. It was kind of fun to watch Freya’s jaw drop.

“You— what?! I want to see these people too!”

“Actually we made some plans. You’re going to… Uh Freya, what happened here?”

“We also met another species!” Freya said excitedly. “Your father found these short, stout guys. They were really interested in helping us and trading with us. They call themselves Dorves.”

“Oh no…” Logan said, as he walked past Freya. “I’ll… talk to you later, Frey.”

“Huh..? Hey wait, Logan!”

*

Logan found his father discussing the use of a Numa-powered chainsaw with Simmons. They were both rather excited about it. Logan had not seen his father so flushed for a long time, never since the hostile takeover of that robotics company two years ago.

“With this, you will be able to produce enough lumber for the eventual sales,” Malcolm gushed on.

“I will have time to focus on the other side of my class, which is tending the forest.”

Malcolm gave that imperceptible nod, Logan knew very well. It was the one his father preferred when he disagreed, but had no reason to bring up the subject.

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“Father,” Logan started. “We need to have a chat.”

Malcolm Specter’s stony hawk features did not change an inch at the sight of his lost son. He did not miss a beat. “We do. Return those Numa crystals you have hidden.”

Logan laughed. “Those? I can’t remember. I had to ditch them when I realized I had to save your life.”

Malcolm gave him a sharp look. “My class tells me you’re lying.”

Now, that’s a scary class. He might be bluffing.

“Your class is broken, because I really don’t know where they are.”

That was true. Logan doubted he could find his way back. But he knew Tumor would remember. Tumor affirmed this promptly.

Malcolm held him with his cool stare. “If you do not bring them back to me, you will reimburse them.”

Logan threw his head back and laughed. “With what, father? Does your class also tell you how I stumbled upon a pirate chest of golden doubloons on my way here?”

Malcolm Specter had been more amused at funerals, but Logan swore he saw a tug of the mouth from Simmons.

“We are in debt, Logan,” Malcolm said. “I promised our new allies Numa crystals in exchange for their tools.”

“I can see that,” Logan said carefully. He really needed his father on his side this time, so he would do his best to navigate here. “Look, father. I also came across a species that want an alliance.”

“Yes, the Dorves told me of them,” Malcolm said. “The porcelain fairies. They called them deceitful illusionists, liars and cowards.”

“Yeah, I heard there’s some beef between the two,” Logan said. “Look. I don’t know what sort of deal you made, but you should listen to the Faelves too. They will have a very different story to tell than the Dorves.”

“You do not know what the Dorves told me,” Malcolm said.

“I do know that despite your flaws you’re an annoyingly intelligent man,” Logan said, giving his father a slight smile. “And if you had heard what I heard from the Faelves, you’d think twice.”

“And what story might have I heard from them?”

Logan told his father what had happened. Simmons got bored and went away to work his new chainsaw. For someone that had been a top-shelf alpha male in the old world, there was a charming simplicity to the new Simmons.

Freya brought them some fish to eat and the three of them sat as Logan told them what had happened and Freya and Malcolm asked him questions. For now Logan kept the vision to himself. He was going to tell them about it, but it wasn’t information they needed right now. It was better to keep things simple and only tell them about what the Faelves thought of Levemoth and its relationship with Numa.

“It could be true,” Malcolm said quietly. “But I do find the timing interesting.”

“What do you mean?” Freya asked.

“The minute I make a deal with the Dorves and improve our circumstances immensely, Logan pops out of the bushes and tells me to undo everything.”

Logan sighed. “Look. All I’m asking of you is to go talk with the Faelves.”

“The Dorves told me these forest fairies use magic to trick people. You could be under a charm. This is likely a subterfuge attempt,” Malcolm said with a resolved gleam in his eyes. “The timing is too perfect.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Logan said, trying to stifle his rising temper.

“I’ll have you checked by Dr. Rosenberg,” Malcolm said and got up. “This does not mean I will not parlay with the Faelves. I will send an envoy, and if they also come with their mind touched, we must discuss with the Dorves if these fairies will be a threat.”

“Goddamn it, father,” Logan said and rubbed his forehead. “They aren’t going to be a threat. They just want us to stop messing around with the Numa in a way that makes Levemoth come and take a big black piss on us.”

“Or they want us to stay weak, so they can manipulate our situation.”

“Frey, what do you think?” Logan asked and squeezed her hand in his lap.

“I want to visit the Faelves,” Freya said, looking at the ground. “I don’t know what to think.”

“The Dorves are helping us,” Malcolm said as if that was the end of discussion. “They have provided us with means of survival.”

“What kind of a deal was it exactly?” Logan asked. “Give me the cliffnotes.”

“They provided us with an initial supply of tools in exchange for the Numa crystals we had and a promise of 20 more [E-grade Numa Crystals]. And from that point onwards they will trade with us for any Numa crystals we manage to obtain.”

“Uhhuh,” Logan said. “I know this is a big break, and your back was against the wall, because you need to take care of these people. But think back Mr. CEO. When has anyone approached you and offered you a deal that was more beneficial to you than for them?”

Malcolm scoffed. “Do not take me for a fool. I negotiated.”

“Here’s what I think,” Logan said. “If the Faelves are right, and using Numa in a non-kosher way makes Levemoth drop Black Rain, the Dorves are using us to farm for Numa.”

Malcolm’s eyes went wide at that. Freya turned to Logan

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Think about it,” Logan said. “They give us all these tools to create whatever we want. We use said tools and oops, we’re attacked by the monsters. We fend monsters off and claim the crystals. Meanwhile the Dorves sit underground safe and snug and come up to take the crystals from us to trade them for some hand-me-downs.”

“Oh…” Freya said, trailing off.

“They probably told you to make weapons, because the jungle is dangerous and Levemoth comes and goes,” Logan said, turning to his father.

“Almost verbatim,” Malcolm said, nodding to himself.

“Look, I know you’re a prideful bastard, but just talk to the Faelves. Or send Freya to them. Explore your options. There are other ways to use these valuable crystals.”

“You are right,” Malcolm said. “The Dorves are using us.”

Logan sighed in relief. He couldn’t half believe he had gotten an argument through to his father.

“But that changes nothing,” Malcolm added.

“What?” Logan and Freya both said.

“It is our highest-yield ecological niche in this situation is to do as the Dorves say.”

“Even at the threat of spawning more Levespawn?” Logan asked, glaring at his father.

“Especially so,” Malcolm said. We will fight and acquire these crystals and improve our circumstances. The more we do it, the better terms we can negotiate with the Dorves. With training and proper equipment, the monsters are a manageable threat.”

“And how many people know you’ve made us all into monster-bait?”

Malcolm gave him a grim stare.

“How many, father?!”

“You will not tell them before I see fit,” Malcolm said with an icy, quiet voice.

“Try and stop me!”

“Logan,” Malcolm Specter said, taking a step forward to loom over his son. “I am giving you one simple choice.”