“Ah, that reminds me,” Master Kairos said as he shifted in the pool. A vial appeared in his hand. “Here, I finished this earlier. It took longer than I would have liked, but that’s how Alchemy works sometimes. It should mitigate at least one of the approaches the assassins might use.”
“What is it?” I asked as I examined the small vial.
It was filled with sparkling black liquid that appeared thick, like syrup. Sparkling motes of something – probably mana crystal dust, if I had to guess – appeared suspended within the substance. Oddly, the motes appeared to be in constant motion, swirling in what looked like a pattern.
It was almost mesmerizing.
“It’s just a little protection against those mana-blocking poisons you were concerned about,” he replied with fake casualness. “It’s a common enough recipe among Master Alchemists, given the number of nobles and such who worry about such things.”
I used Assess, and my eyes widened in shock.
[Mana Protection Potion – Permanent – Growth]
“It’s a growth potion!” I exclaimed before quickly looking around to ensure we were alone. A visual scan didn’t mean much, but between that and a quick focus on Spatial Sense, I felt pretty confident we weren’t being closely observed.
“It is. You didn’t think Enchanters had the market cornered there, did you?” he asked playfully as he reclined against the nearby wall. The falling snow barely had time to land before it melted, leaving small trails of water on his pale skin.
“Yeah, I kinda did,” I admitted sheepishly as I tried not to stare. “How did you make it? There has to be a secret,” I said as I focused my attention back on the vial.
“Ghostvine petals,” Master Kairos whispered, though there was nobody around to overhear him. “If you process them properly and add powdered Arcane crystals, the combination can turn several types of permanent-effect potions into growth potions.”
“I’ve never heard of Ghostvine petals.”
“They aren’t well-known – at least, by that name,” he added with a smirk. “Only Master and Grandmaster Alchemists know how to process and use them properly. Everyone else thinks they are just useless weeds since they never rise above Tier One, even in mana-dense areas.”
His expression was meaningful, as if he expected me to make the connection.
“Never rise above… are you talking about Morning Daisies?” I asked in confusion.
They were the only flora I knew of that perpetually remained Tier One, regardless of where they grew. Morning Daisies were a bit of a joke among Herbalists and related professions due to their odd inability to grow beyond Tier One.
Master Kairos grinned widely. “I can’t say.” His reaction made it obvious that my guess was correct.
Looking from my mentor to the vial and back, I asked, “Should I take it now, or…”
Master Kairos inclined his head. “Go ahead.”
I unstoppered the vial and gazed at the swirling potion one last time. Lifting the small bottle to my lips, I quickly downed the thick fluid.
“Tastes like mint.”
Master Kairos chuckled. “That’s one of the ingredients.”
I smacked my lips a few times as the flavor slowly faded. “So, I should be safe against poisons that target internal mana now, right?”
“Yes, though Null Fields will still impact you.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “I’m not really worried about those. As long as I can cast Haste and access my [Inventory] or trigger my E3 talisman, I should be fine. I was going to ask you to help me make a manual E3 to bypass any limitations on internal mana use, but with the potion, I guess I won’t need it.”
“Oh, while I’m thinking of it…” Master Kairos straightened before handing me another item. “Just in case those assassins don’t fight fair, I wanted you to have a stronger [Barrier]. I usually carry a couple of extras. It’s Tier Ten, so it should withstand anything they throw at you long enough for you to react.”
I examined the small defensive talisman in my hand. It was a very different style than the one I normally used. In fact, it looked more like a decorative pendant than something meant for utility.
Instead of being a solid base with runes carved into the surface (or embedded within), the pendant itself was shaped into the rune for [Protection]. I could sense a more intricate formation within the item, but the specific runes were obscured, making it impossible for me to look closer without spending a huge amount of time breaking through the obscurement – if it was even possible.
The way the obscuring effect was added also made it impossible to identify the item, making me doubt the item was something Master Kairos had crafted on his own.
“It’s very pretty,” I commented hesitantly as I noted the small mana crystals layered evenly within the metal. It was an advanced technique I’d only ever read about. “Are you sure it’s just an extra? It doesn’t look like something you’d wear.”
I raised a brow as I looked between the pendant and my mentor. He cleared his throat and looked away.
“Yeah. It was just an extra,” he said unconvincingly. “I’ve been carrying it around for a while. I should have probably given it to you as soon as you left the dungeon, but it slipped my mind.”
I didn’t point out that he wasn’t wearing anything similar. For all I knew, his was implanted somewhere on his body. Still, I smiled and thanked him before replacing my Tier Eight [Barrier] talisman with one he’d given me.
I’d have to swap them back before I reentered the dungeon, but that was still a long way away.
----------------------------------------
“Are you going to visit Earth soon?” Zavira asked via interface call later that night. We hadn’t seen each other in person since our joint reception, but we still spoke most days.
“Yeah. The kids get out of school next week. It makes more sense to go together since I can just teleport us wherever we need to go.”
“You’re not worried about the assassins interfering while you’re with them?”
“A little,” I admitted. “Master Kairos said they definitely won’t target my family, but I still worry.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Well, he’s right about them not being actively targeted,” she replied. “The problem is collateral damage. If they are with you and assassins attack, they might get caught in the crossfire. Most of the time, it isn’t an issue because nobody wants to violate the Accords, but if they get desperate enough…” She cleared her throat. “That disciple didn’t strike me as the most reasonable person.”
“You think I should travel separately?”
“Maybe?” Zavira replied uncertainly. “Or maybe you should make targeting you more trouble than it is worth.”
“How would I do that?” I asked. “I’ve already taken out two of their assassins.”
“Not like that. I mean politically. Make the Sovereignty Sect and everyone associated with them into pariahs if they keep trying to kill you. You’re a Tri-Affinity Mage,” she reminded me. “Targeting you is practically a crime. At least, that’s how most people would see it. If you publicized the situation, the Sovereignty Sect would lose public favor faster than you’d believe. They’d almost have to leave you alone at that point.”
“If it was that easy, I’m sure Master Kairos would have recommended that approach.”
It wasn’t like the Alliance didn’t have news programs or forums. Social media wasn’t really a thing, but most of the other advances in connectivity existed.
“Maybe.” I could practically hear the shrug in her voice. “You should talk to him about it since it would impact your sect. Regardless, it’s something to consider, given the threat.”
She was probably right, but the thought of drawing even more attention was… daunting. It was already bad enough when random people identified me.
I could handle it if I had to, but fame wasn’t something I would intentionally seek.
----------------------------------------
“I considered it, but I didn’t think you’d want to deal with the fallout right after leaving the dungeon,” Master Kairos said the next day when I mentioned Zavira’s recommendation over breakfast. “The Council already knows of your status. They also know about the threat against your life.”
“You reported the assassination attempt?”
“Of course,” Master Kairos said as he cut into a fruit-filled pastry baked in a bowl. It looked like a non-fluffy souffle topped with syrup. “Just because they want me to ascend doesn’t mean I don’t have allies on the Council.”
“You mentioned that before – that you made a deal with the Council to ascend in exchange for being allowed to take part in Earth’s reintegration,” I said. “Why would they want you to leave?”
“Well, I’m not sure if you realize this, but there’s a shortage of high and peak-tier fighters willing to delve rifts. Because of that, every active Adventurers’ Guild member over Tier Seven is required to challenge a certain number of rifts every decade.”
“I would think that would make the Council less likely to want people to ascend,” I commented as I brushed a dark strand of hair out of my face. I still wasn’t used to seeing dark hair in the mirror.
“It usually does. But for the last few centuries, more Tier Tens have eschewed ascension in favor of remaining in this realm at the peak of power. The new trend has been to stay until the end of one’s natural lifespan and then ascend. It’s why I’ve had such a hard time finding someone to ascend with. Nobody wants to start over at the bottom of the ladder.”
“So, there’s an excess of Tier Tens?” I said, cutting to the heart of his statement.
“Exactly. But the Guild still mandates a certain number of delves per adventurer each decade, barring legitimate interference. The quota is a lot less at Tier Ten since we only have access to one Tier Ten planet, but reaching the pinnacle doesn’t suddenly erase the requirement. It’s a system-enforced contract, which means it applies to both parties. Few pinnacles are willing to give up the resources available in the rifts to free up slots for others.”
“So, what do they do?” I asked.
“Usually, those in need of experience partner up or form parties with those at the pinnacle,” he replied. “I have two junior Tier Tens who join me during my slots for the experience. I do less work and keep most of the rewards while they get the experience points they need to progress. It’s a win-win.”
“So, the deal was the Council’s way of motivating you to move on?”
“Exactly.”
It was weird, but a lot of things the Alliance did seemed odd to me.
“Do I need to register with the Adventurers’ Guild?” I asked.
“Probably,” Master Kairos replied. “You don’t have to, but Tier Eight is one of the areas where there is a real, legitimate shortage of delvers. Besides, you don’t want to get out of practice.”
“Will there be issues when I return to the dungeon if I register?”
“No. We’ll let them know you’ll be unavailable. That’s an obvious example of the legitimate interference I mentioned earlier. In your case, we can limit your membership to the decade you’re outside of the dungeon. That type of contract is less common, but it isn’t unheard of for special cases.”
The information was certainly new to me. I’d never heard that the Adventurers’ Guild compelled higher-tier adventurers to delve before. It must be an addition to the contract at some later point in the process.
During my time as an adventurer, people were always struggling to get slots for low and mid-tier rifts. By Tier Four, it was a struggle to delve often enough to feel a real sense of progress, given how infrequently slots were available. We had to travel between multiple rifts just to manage a delve per week, and that was after we moved to Olym, an MT5 planet.
A lot of people gave up on fighting to progress due to the long waits. And it wasn’t like the people in charge could just make a bunch of extra mid-tier rifts to meet the demand.
Doing something like that would cause all sorts of problems.
“Should we take care of that soon?” I asked.
“We can handle it after your vacation,” Master Kairos replied. “There’s no rush right now.”
“So, there’s no reason to publicize my existence or my affiliation with the sect right now since the Council already knows?” I asked, returning the conversation to the original topic. I knew it would happen eventually, but putting it off for later sounded like a great idea.
“We can if you want to, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets out,” he replied, echoing my thoughts. “You’re wearing sect robes, and anyone who identifies you will see your status. Eventually, someone will reach out. Our media isn’t so different from what you had on Earth.”
“Minus social media,” I chimed in before taking a bite of the flavorful porridge I’d ordered.
“Yes. Aside from that. Forums and private networks are sufficient. The Council decided early on not to emulate every new idea from Earth.”
I could understand their reasoning, especially when viewed from the outside. While there were a lot of great things about social media, there were an equal number of negatives. Since the flow of information and communication was not being stifled, I couldn’t say I disagreed with the decision.
However, I suspected it was only a matter of time before someone from Earth reintroduced the phenomenon. Heck, it was possible it already existed on Earth’s local network.
I ignored the blinking icon that informed me I’d been identified again. It was the third time since I sat down for breakfast.
“What do you think the Council will do about the Sovereignty Sect sending assassins after me?”
The Patriarch smiled widely. His grin looked far more predatory than it usually did. “Based on the last time a sect intentionally went after a Tri-Affinity Mage without cause, it could cause a Sect War.”
“Like what happened in the dungeon?” I asked.
“Kind of,” Master Kairos replied. “There are actually a couple of worlds used for enmity wars. Most of the time, they’re used when we fight the Collective. But occasionally, they can be used to settle inter-sect conflicts or territory disputes. It minimizes collateral damage.”
“Are those common?”
“Not at all,” the blonde Time Mage said. “The last one was a couple hundred years ago.”
“I’m surprised the sect hasn’t already had one with Sovereignty, given the clearly opposing tenets,” I mused.
“It came close back when I was Tier Nine, but their sect leader had just reached Tier Eight and was too cowardly to accept after stirring up a bunch of trouble. Mercenaries are not allowed since they don’t qualify as participants in a Sect War. Otherwise, he would have probably acted differently.”
“Can the Council force it?”
Master Kairos’s smile grew darker. “Yes. And that is a very real possibility, given their actions. If you only had two affinities, the Council wouldn’t care, even if you managed to sway public opinion. As long as they stayed within the Accords, the sect and their representatives could do what they wanted. But knowingly attempting to assassinate a Tri-Affinity Mage without CAUSE crosses a line the Council can’t afford to ignore.”
“I guess it’s a good thing I acquired the third affinity, then,” I said before asking, “What constitutes ‘cause’?”
Master Kairos leaned back in his seat. “Accords violations. That is the only justification for outright killing a Tri-Affinity Mage. And since you are not an Accords offender, they have no justification for sending assassins. An official duel they could get by with, but ambushes and assassination attempts, they cannot.”
“So, I should expect to get challenged a lot then?”
“No,” my mentor shook his head. “They already did that and failed. They can’t justify another duel based on losing the last one. Duels are meant as a last resort solution between two disagreeing parties. They can’t use the same reason or the fact that they lost the last duel to justify a new one.”