The Irish Embassy looked pretty similar to the British one, a building design that I’d have described as “traditional”, though I didn’t need [Innate Etiquette] to remind me that that almost certainly wasn’t the correct, official, term. But still, it had charm, and the building’s outside was painted in that yellowy beige whose variants seemed ubiquitous in the historical areas of central European cities. It fit in.

Its insides, on the other hand … it could have been literally any government building in any European nation built at any time in the last thirty years, white walls, glass cases that showed posters and flyers while guiding visitors to wherever they wanted to go. The only thing that really differentiated it from one of those other buildings was the abundance of Irish flags and decor with designs that evoked the Irish flag.

The aide I was following led me into a non-public staircase, but unlike I expected, he didn’t go upstairs, where I assumed the ambassador’s office to be. After all, didn’t the big boss usually have the room with the best view?

Instead, he headed down into the basement.

“Where are we going?” I asked, stopping at the top of the stairs. “Isn’t the ambassador’s office upstairs?”

[Innate Etiquette] agreed, this was fishy, though it was reminding me not to talk about any of the ideas that shot through my mind at the idea of following a stranger into their basement.

“Yes, but the video conference is set up in the IT room in the basement. Lord Mac Cumail’s orders,” the aide immediately responded.

Oh … that also explained why they’d known I was coming. I should have figured that out. It also made sense why a big computer setup would be down there. Upstairs probably got way too hot in the summer.

“Is he who I’ll be meeting with?” I asked, and the aide nodded.

Even as the upgraded [Innate Etiquette] gave me a poker face that could reduce casino owners to paupers, I was internally having a teensy little bit of a meltdown.

This was moving just a smidge too fast. But it was already way too late, way too late, to back out.

The aide opened a door, revealing the promised video conference setup, already showing an active call, with a desk along with a chair sitting in front of it. The implication was obvious. That chair was meant for me. So I sat down while the door was closed behind me, and observed the man on the other end of the call.

He was handsome, with a chiseled face that could have made him a famous actor even if he lacked even the slightest smidge of talent, alongside light-blond hair in a shade I’d have normally unhesitatingly described as artificial or bleached, though this time, there was something … honestly, I’d call the sensation “sincere” about it. Real.

The man who absolutely had to be Fionn Mac Cumail reminded me of Dietrich. Possessing features that weren’t normally seen on people, but they didn’t look out of place on them, or unnatural in the slightest. Just … unique.

“Good afternoon, Lord Mac Cumail,” I greeted, using the same term the aide had used. [Innate Etiquette] was currently waffling between that and the full “Fionn Mac Cumail”, since “Fionn” was actually an honorific rather than his first name, but both were correct enough that there wasn’t a clear case to be made for either one. So I stuck with what the aide had used.

“Ambassador Vogt, please, call me Fionn. It’s a title, rather than my first name,” he replied, solving the conundrum handily.

“Alright,” I nodded. “I’m guessing you already know why I’m here?”

“Exactly,” Fionn replied. “You want to warn the Irish government that ancients like myself draw monsters, and that we need to adjust our preparations for the Second Challenge based on that.

“I’d like to thank you for figuring that out, things could have gotten … unpleasant if you hadn’t. And I’m glad you decided against sharing that knowledge with the entire world.”

A screen off to the side, previously dark, switched on at that, displaying what seemed to be a map of Ireland, though it was covered in dots of various colors. Green ones, barely visible, were spread out all over the place, though they were denser in the east, yellow ones were broadly clustered around a spot on the eastern coast, which was where I thought Dublin, the capital, was, and finally, red ones that were concentrated into a single area maybe 10 kilometers across, west of Dublin.

“This is where monsters spawned over the last few days. On the first day, they were spread out, on the second, they appeared near where the Fianna camped but not on top of us, and today, they all went after us alone because we moved out of the city.”

The screen changed, displaying another map, which I only recognized as a map of Czechia because of the word “Prague” sitting in the center. The map was just too zoomed in to show any coastlines that I might have recognized, or enough of the borders to make a judgment based on that.

It was more of the same. An initial wave spread out all over the place, and later spawns concentrated around the capital city, and the golem who lived there.

However …

“You woke up as a response to the System, didn’t you?” I asked. “The first wave appeared, then you entered the scene, and all subsequent spawns were influenced by your presence.”

“If by ‘you’, you’re referring to all ancients, that seems to be the case,” Fionn agreed.

“So, the next challenge is going to concentrate around ancients from the start?”

“In all likelihood,” Fionn agreed.

“That means the plan will work,” I thought aloud, earning myself a questioning look.

“We’re hoping monsters will just go after the mountain fortress in the Untersberg, instead of any cities,” I explained. “Beyond that, it’s a matter of helping when we’re needed outside, and hoping we’ll get support when we’re the ones who need it.”

“That’s our plan too, largely,” Fionn agreed. “Though we barely have sixty hours left to prepare. That’s not a lot of time to fortify our respective positions, let alone create a workable treaty or figure out the logistics of it all.”

“Then let’s make a basic promise now, and work out a proper agreement for the third challenge once we can,” I suggested.

“Something to the tune of ‘if there is a disaster that is beyond our power to handle, you’ll help, and vice-versa, unless there’s a pressing domestic issue’?” Fionn suggested, echoing my thoughts. Though he’d probably not read my mind, since the offer was largely a matter of common sense.

“Basically,” I said, then tried to make myself look dignified, with [Innate Etiquette] seriously helping things along. “On behalf of Dietrich von Bern, I, Tristan Vogt, promise to come to your aid if a monster you cannot beat appears on your soil, unless we are in the middle of a crisis ourselves.”

Fionn’s response was immediate, though he’d been in a formal and dignified pose the entire time.

“I, Fionn Mac Cumail, on behalf of myself and the Fianna, promise to come to your aid if there is a threat that requires it, unless we are as desperately needed on Irish soil. I think any further treaties should just be based around that idea.”

“I think the biggest issue is going to be getting the governments into the loop,” I added.

“Logistics is still going to be a problem,” Fionn added. “There’s a significant distance between us.”

“Actually, I can help with that,” I announced, deciding that if there was anyone who’d notice that I had portals, it’d be the guy with scrying magic. “I have a portal Skill, I’ll need to have been to your encampment to be able to teleport there.”

“I think that can be arranged for,” Fionn assured me. “A diplomatic visit, perhaps? The Irish government has access to diplomatic planes that can be sent your way in a calm moment.”

I frowned, tapping into [Innate Etiquette] to suppress a more severe reaction. “I don’t think planes will be safe with aerial monsters around.”

“I’ll arrange for an escort,” Fionn promised.

The conversation soon went down into the nitty-gritty, with Fionn promising to send me the data he’d gathered via email and me telling him I’d send him any conclusions I drew. It took almost an hour, but eventually, we were done.

I was about to say goodbye when I thought of something.

“Can you tell me where the Golem of Prague is at the moment?” I asked.

Fionn nodded. “I’ll send you the location, but he’s currently engaged in combat, you might want to wait.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I hope this is the start of a fruitful relationship.”

“Thank you for your work in figuring out how the System works,” Fionn replies. “I think we can do great things together.”

“Good luck with the next challenge,” I told him. “Goodbye.”

“You as well. Until we meet again.”

And with that, the call ended, I was led back outside, and my phone dinged as it received the information Fionn had promised, including the current location of the Golem. The moment I was outside the door, the voice of the System spoke to me for what felt like the hundredth time just this day.

[Global Ambassador of Myth Lv. 13 -> Global Ambassador of Myth Lv. 15]

[Skill Boost gained]

[Skill gained: Diplomatic Pouch]

Apparently, dealing with an ancient directly, one I didn’t know to boot, was seriously helpful. And unless I was badly misreading it, [Diplomatic Pouch] was going to be my favorite Skill yet.

Diplomatic Pouch

1m x 1m x 1m pocket dimension immune to inspection, it cannot be used for smuggling, or importing weapons with the intention to hurt potential hosts, weapons can be withdrawn for reasons of self-defense.

So yes, perfect. There were hard limitations on weaponizing the ability, granted, but they weren’t really going to be much of a problem. After all, I had no plans on playing saboteur or assassin.

As for which Skill to boost, I wound up settling on [Polite Rebuke]. Now that [Innate Etiquette] was at a point where it was as useful as I’d need it to be, my best and only combat skill needed to be better.

[Skill Boosted: Polite Rebuke]

The rebuke can now affect attacks, projectiles, and spells. Physically using the Rebuke will increase its effect.

In other words, unless it was on cooldown, I’d be able to protect myself damn well.

If there were really monsters where I was going, I’d need to be armed as well, though. So I dropped by the car and retrieved the dagger I’d brought, reattaching its sheath to my belt. I also altered my clothing, removing the jacket and making both my shirt and pants less formal. Still what I’d consider appropriate for a business lunch, but nowhere near as stuffy as what I’d worn mere seconds ago.

And, of course, I hid the dagger once again. Normally, that’d also make it hard to get at if and when I needed it, but [Modern Makeover] had no limitations on how it could alter my clothing … if I stuck to the amount and type of material I already had on my body, didn’t use the alteration to undo damage and I could only have three outfits altered at once.

So yes, there were limitations, but none that prevented me from abusing the Skill, and shattering the concept of “non-combat” in the process. When I wanted the dagger, a mere thought would cause the clothing to shift in a way that granted me access. Hell, now that I thought about it, I could probably also thicken the clothing in a spot to provide rudimentary armor if it really came down to it … maybe I should take a look at how gambesons were made. After all, they were cloth armor.

But that was yet another project for later.

Although … maybe there was some cool stuff I could pull off with [Diplomatic Pouch], depending on how quickly I could store and withdraw stuff. Until I knew that, I’d keep the blade sheathed at my side.

Now, to go visit the Golem of Prague.

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The streets of Prague were full of life, something that was surprising in the middle of what should have been a crisis of unprecedented proportions. And yet, that was how things were right now.

People were out and about, some as happy as could be, others looking around fearfully, as though expecting to be attacked at any second, though they’d still chosen to come out.

In many ways, it reminded me of the early days of COVID. There was danger, everyone knew that, and yet, many people behaved as though said danger was minimal or nonexistent.

As I walked, I stored and withdrew a one-euro coin into [Diplomatic Pouch] to test how it worked. It worked … well, it worked like it should. An inventory, basically.

But there was one small issue. I could only draw stuff out of it so quickly. The Skill might have been thought-activated, without any inherent cooldowns or delays I needed to be aware of, but it was slow to work. It was a little like going into your inventory in a video game if the game didn’t pause for that. Accessing it required me to think “open”, then go looking for what I wanted, find it, and go “take that out”, which took between two and five seconds, depending on what else I was doing at the time. Also, I needed the space to summon an item. For example, I couldn’t manifest a coin inside a clenched fist, and I also needed to hold onto it in some way when it came out. Meaning, the coin needed to come out lying in my palm, or between two fingers.

But the slowness was what was really limiting my options.

It just took too long to make getting tricky in combat using this Skill safe or viable. Otherwise, there was so much cool shit I could have done. Like making a slash with my dagger that looked like it would miss, only to then store the dagger and call out my sword, vastly increasing my reach from one second to the next.

Ah, I shouldn’t complain. The ability was damn useful even taken at face value. It was just that, well, I had a non-combat Class in a very combat-heavy world. Getting tricky with my Skills and using them in ways beyond the obvious so that they’d help in combat was kinda necessary for me. And fun, though that was beside the point.

I once again checked the screenshot of a map app that Fionn had sent me, compared it to Google Maps, plotted out a path over there, and followed that path through a surprisingly empty area… until I ran into my first corpse. A human one, throat torn out, though the monster that had done it was likewise dead, visible from where I was standing. A giant, mangy dog with orange patches of fur that still seemed to smolder that I’d unhesitatingly call a hellhound.

Yep, there were definitely monsters around.

I began to focus on [Polite Rebuke], preparing it, charging it to be unleashed on the first thing that attacked me, power channeled into the “through a physical medium” version. Mia had helped me figure out that how offensive I, personally, thought something was, so psyching myself up should increase its power.

I could feel it, like static electricity tinged with the sensation of a rapidly beating heart, concentrated in my left hand, for some reason. The first thing to attack me would get both barrels, so to speak.

I took a moment to look down at my phone, checking my location relative to where the Golem had been ten minutes ago. Only two hundred more meters, and if I could avoid the monsters, this was actually a good place to talk, clear of people. All I had to do was slowly make my way over there … and then I heard the scream. Fuck.

Now, I didn’t run over like an idiot, without even paying attention to what was in the way, but I still hurried over there while making sure to keep a distance between me and the corner I turned, so that I could see was behind it without running straight into it.

But there was nothing waiting in ambush, just a man on the ground, slowly inching away from another demon dog, arms raised in a vain attempt to defend himself.

Again, fuck!

“Hey!” I yelled and threw the first thing that came to hand, the coin I’d been playing around with. It bounced off the dog’s back, and combined with my yell, that had been enough.

It whirled around, snarling, while I drew my dagger with my right hand while keeping my left charged up with [Polite Rebuke].

“Shoo!” I yelled, hoping to be able to resolve this without having to burn through my Skill.

… No such luck. The dog charged.

Lesser Hellhound Lv. 7 (evolved dog)

That thing was stronger than the eagle had been, but I had no bloody clue how Levels scaled on monsters, let alone how to compare my Level to that.

It leaped straight for my throat and I was in the process of bringing up my knife to stab it in the chest while sidestepping, except my left hand blurred through the air practically on its own, unloading all the righteous fury I had been building onto a deserving target.

The back of my hand smacked into the monster’s jaws and sent it flying, hurling it through the air until it slammed into the nearest building and was reduced to meat paste and bone shards.

Ew.

I was just glad that hadn’t happened when I’d hit it. Also, how long until Polite Rebuke was available again?

That threw up yet another System window.

Skills on Cooldown

Polite Rebuke 17:51

So, every eighteen or so minutes, I could basically instakill a monster half my Level. Cool. But not enough to put me on the front lines with.

I walked over to the man I’d rescued and offered him my hand.

“You okay?” I asked as I pulled him to his feet and he replied something in Czech I couldn’t really understand. I thought it was something like “who are you”, but [Burgeoning Omniglot] had only been active for less than two hours, and only twenty minutes of that had been in an environment where I heard people speaking the language.

“English, please, my Czech is terrible,” I requested … in Czech. Only realizing what language I’d used after the fact. Huh. That was cool.

“Who are you?” the man repeated in lightly accented English.

“My name is Tristan. Do you know where the Golem of Prague is?” I asked. “I’m looking for him.”

Hand trembling, the man pointed past me, and I slowly made my way in that direction, making sure to keep an eye out. Now all I had left was the strength boost from my ring, a good solid weapon, and potentially some kind of intangible upgrade from raw Levels that I wasn’t entirely sure existed.

Hopefully, I’d run into the Golem first.

But that didn’t wind up happening. Instead, I saw a monster. A black and orange cat-thing that had the size of a cougar but the shape of an alley cat, glaring at something around the nearest corner as it slowly stalked closer.

I grinned. Viciously. Cats had a terrible tendency to focus on the prey they were stalking to their own detriment. It could likely sense me, but was filtering out that information since I wasn’t what it was going after.

So I lunged, driving my dagger into the back of its neck, sliding it past its spine to rip through half a dozen vital blood vessels and I was pretty sure I also caught the windpipe.

The cat was still alive as it whirled around to me but I was able to step back to avoid a slow claw swipe and then it just plain collapsed. Dead. Good.

Now I just needed to manage to do that when I was the one who was caught flat-footed.

Looking around the corner, I finally saw the being I’d been looking for, who was in the process of crushing his final attacker.

The Golem of Prague raised his head and looked straight at me. There was an intelligence in that gaze, but it wasn’t like anyone or anything I’d ever seen before. Not human, definitely not.

Slowly, I sheathed my dagger again, [Restoration of the Old] wiping away the blood that covered it while [Modern Makeover] altered my clothing to cover it once again. And then I raised my hands to either side of my chest, palms facing him, making it clear I was unarmed.

This was a being whose like I had never seen, and I’d heard way too many stories about monstrous golems, and even variants of his myth specifically that made me very wary of him.

I slowly approached, meeting his gaze, and introduced myself.

“My name is Tristan Vogt, and I have some information that you need to know.”

How many times had I said a line like that today? More often than any other month in my life, probably.

The Golem reached into a pocket formed from magically held-together dirt and retrieved both a bit of paper utterly covered in scribbles and a ballpoint pen. He wrote something on one of the few spots on the paper that was still clear and turned it around so that I could read it.

“What is it?”

“It’s about how monsters attack. They go after beings like you, who were born a long time ago and slept until they had to fight against the System’s monsters,” I said. “By patrolling in the city, you’re ensuring that monsters keep showing up where people are.”

The Golem was about to write something else before he flipped over the paper and pointed at something already on there.

“Proof?”

“I can show you the data from Germany and Ireland,” I said. “If I can come closer?”

The Golem nodded, and I did so. Slowly. Apprehensively. Until I was close enough to show him my phone and explain, with him occasionally writing down a question. He seemed to believe me, but the way this was going was taking forever.

In the background, I could hear distant sirens, but wasn’t paying much attention right now.

“I have a Skill that lets me instantly teach you something I know. And a long time ago, I learned something called sign language that lets one speak with one’s hands,” I finally offered. I wasn’t very good, I’d gotten it in my head that I’d learn it when I was younger only to eventually stop. I wasn’t fluent by any means, but I could still fingerspell the entire alphabet if it came down to it, and knew all the important signs. It was enough to muddle through with.

The Golem tapped on another point on the paper.

“Danger?”

“It’s safe,” I assured him, prompting him to write something else down.

“Don’t try anything.”

“Yeah, I’m well aware of the power dynamic here,” I assured him.

The Golem nodded and motioned for me to continue. Fuck, maybe this had been the wrong thing to offer … but was backing out even an option?

I activated [Knowledge Transfer] and shoved over everything I knew about sign language … something was wrong. Someone, him, clearly, had seized the connection and was shoving something else back. No, that wasn’t right. Not shoving … offering. With insistence.

Optional in the way you could choose to not let the old lady you’d just helped in some way give you a sweet from her purse as she called you “such a nice young man.” Theoretically easy, but anyone who’s ever been in a situation like that knows just how much of an inexorable force old ladies could be.

This was the same. He wanted to give back. And while I felt like I could just plain sever the connection, I really felt I shouldn’t. We stood there like that for several seconds until I managed to recognize what he was sending back, language skills of his own. Czech, specifically.

I just accepted … and woke up on the floor a few seconds later with a pounding headache. Ow. Fuck. Probably an information overload of some kind.

But I could hear the voice of the System even through the haze of pain.

[Skill Evolution: Knowledge Transfer -> Knowledge Trade]

So, that was also a thing. Who’d have thunk?

I looked up at the Golem, who was repeatedly signing “are you ok?”

“Peachy,” I grumbled as I slowly got to my feet, the headache rapidly fading. “Could have warned me.”

Then, I realized I’d just been speaking fluent Czech. A language I’d learned in less than a day. That was really cool.

“I’m sorry, Tristan,” the Golem signed. “My name is Joseph.”

“Nice to meet you, Joseph,” I replied.

We started to talk after that, even as the police and ambulances arrived, standing there in the center of the square. We must have made quite a sight, but neither of us cared. Joseph especially. It seemed like finally having a proper language, a way to communicate, a voice, had awoken something within him. He wanted to talk, and I was willing to listen.

The cops just … worked around us. Unwilling to bother us.

Eventually, Joseph bade me goodbye and began to slowly plod towards the edge of town, as I’d advised him, while I retreated to my car.

As I walked, I realized that I’d actually learned several new signs during that conversation, which shouldn’t really have been possible. Joseph and I had identical vocabularies, so there shouldn’t have been a single sign I could learn from him. And yet, somehow, I’d improved. How … [Burgeoning Omniglot]. I’d been using Americal Sign Language, so my grasp of ASL had improved.

Wait, did that mean I could learn languages just by having some knowledge of them?

I mean, I knew two works of Japanese, “kawai,” which meant cute, and “nani,” which meant “what.” Could I learn the language just by focusing on my existing vocabulary? I mean, it would be obvious if I improved, a new word that increased my vocabulary from two words to three would be hard to miss.

So I spent the next few minutes constantly repeating those two words in my mind, but didn’t achieve anything. Still, worth a try.

Then, I stopped dead as I remembered I still had a Skill to check out. This time, I pulled up the entirety of the Skill’s description, instead of just the new addition gained by a boost.

Knowledge Trade (triple boosted; evolved)

You can teach knowledge you possess to up to two targets within five meters, every six hours. The recipients are able to likewise choose knowledge they possess to teach you, if they so wish.

All parties will be aware of what the other is offering, and will be given a chance to cancel the process if the knowledge is not suitable. If all parties involved agree, the transfer will proceed.

Transferred knowledge must be limited to a single subject, and large topics, such as an entire field of study may not be possible to transfer in a single burst. In such cases, the basics will be taught first.

So, that was a Skill Evolution. No real boost in raw power, just some streamlining and clarification. Also, while I’d forgotten to use the “can also teach me something” option this morning and decided against activating it with Joseph though he’d managed to somehow trigger it on his own, going forward, I’d be asking for information from Dietrich and Charlemagne.

I yawned. Not because I was bored, but because I was simply wrung out. I managed to stumble over to a nearby cafe, however, and downed a double espresso before I continued to my car.

There, I switched the radio on and flipped through the channels until I found one that played metal, then drove off beneath the rapidly darkening evening sky, listening to songs I’d never been able to understand before today. My goal was to reach Berlin so that I could teleport there, but I wound up hitting the point where I was too tired to be able to drive safely well before that. I pulled over at the nearest gas station and called Mia.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked, injecting false cheer into my voice.

“Pure chaos,” she groaned. “Bunch of people came, they’re usually helpful, but its …”

She trailed off with a yawn.

“Chaos?” I suggested.

“Uh-hu.”

“Do you need anything from the gas station?” she asked.

“Coffee.”

“Sure,” I replied. “Can you come meet me at the car park?”

“They turned the trail into a road, you can just portal into the fortress,” Mia said, yawning again.

“Okay, see you in a bit,” I replied. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

So, I bought Mia a coffee, and several cans of gasoline for my napalm project, then walked back towards my car.

Now, how did I use [Guide’s Shortcut]?

Mentally reaching out towards the Skill, I was suddenly presented with a question that felt like “where”.

And my answer was simple.

“Untersberg,” I whispered, but instead of activating, the Skill asked for clarification, a mental question along the lines of “you can only use this Skill once a day, do you want to use that charge now?”. I told it to go ahead, and a hole was torn in reality before me, large enough to admit not only me, but my car, showing me the main hallway of the Untersberg. Shoot. I guess I should have been more specific.

Almost a dozen people turned to stare at me, but I just slowly drove inside and the moment the car was clear, the portal snapped shut behind me.

“Who are you?” the closest person, an elderly woman easily three times my age, asked as I got out of my car.

“My name’s Tristan Vogt, I work with Dietrich von Bern, I was just on a bit of an outreach mission to Prague. Sorry about, uh …” I gestured at the car. “I need to practice aiming my portal, I’ll get the car out of here soon.”

“Oh, Mr. Vogt,” she lit up. “You’re expected in the throne room.”

“I’ll just park the car, then I’ll head there, thank you,” I said. “Mrs. …”

“Gertrude Kittel,” she introduced herself. “I’m the current castellan.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Kittel,” I replied, got back in the car, and drove the car out through the now-open stone doors.

The area outside was almost impossible to recognize, and held several vehicles. A handful of regular cars, but also half a dozen distinctive blue flatbed trucks with the distinctive sign of the Technisches Hilfswerk. It seemed like Hofmann had kept his word, and plenty of people had volunteered. But it was too late in the day for me to celebrate too much. My bed called to me.

That was the plan.

Bring Mia her coffee, then go to sleep.

No, bring coffee, report to Dietrich, and use [Knowledge Trade] … no, that was still on cooldown.

So, bring coffee, report, and then, finally, bed.