Next on the agenda for this historical treatise is the magicite boom of the late 5th century.
Production started ramping up in the mid-5th century due to the proclamation of System about the Embers and their ritual, and magicite was scarce for a few decades. With an unknown, though most likely Bestian, beneficiary, the Embers snapped up every piece they could get their hands on to cast their ritual. It was soon prohibitively expensive for any but the most costly of magic items.
However, the Embers did not require a limitless supply of magicite, so the market reversed near-overnight as soon as they reached their goal.
Mines that had been making steady profits were forced to sell at a fraction of the cost they were used to… and then a fraction of that when the supply continued to outstrip demand heavily.
The result… the use of magicite for magical items became nearly commonplace. So, while we in this age are used to seeing that blue gem marking a magic item, there was once a time when they were hardly known to the common man.
* A Brief History of Placeholder, Volume 6. Chapter 12
Do you have blindness caused by “belowsight” eyedrops? You may be entitled to financial compensation! Contact our [Lawyers] today!
* Poster for legal services that had to be hastily rectified after their first batch
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I relayed my plans for the giant crystal to Tim, and he had an immediate response.
Your plan is as inane as it is likely to succeed. Tim said to my mind.
“So, incredibly dumb with a high chance of success?” I asked. “Yeah, sounds about par for the course for Placeholder. Irritating, isn’t it?”
Tim didn’t reply.
Meanwhile, I continued chipping away at the bottom of the giant chunk of magicite with my pickaxe, trying to break it free.
It did so almost before I was ready, and I barely managed to grab onto it before it flew up into the ceiling… yes, the fun fact about magicite was that it was the one thing in the Below that seemed to have normal gravity.
I didn’t have nearly enough mass to stop it from flying away, but as it had done with the monster, my inverted gravity spread to the magicite, and it slammed back into the ground.
“So far, so good,” I replied. “Didn’t even need plan B.”
I am grateful for that fact. Tim remarked. Your secondary plan seemed as likely to create a [Demon Lord] flat cake as it did to achieve your goal.
Plan B was to catch the magicite on the ceiling if I didn’t get ahold of it. It involved [Blink], turning off [Invert Gravity], and praying that a giant crystal falling on top of you counted as bludgeoning damage and not some esoteric type that couldn’t be resisted.
“Okay,” I said, trying to get a good grip and working around my sizeable gut. “Now, the hard part. Ready… and… LIFT!”
I grunted and groaned in exertion as I struggled to get the crystal just an inch off the ground. I had 20 levels in one of the physically strongest classes out there, and I used every ounce of it just to get the crystal a sliver off the ground.
Meanwhile, Tim moved into position and watched where the rock met the earth. A fact that would have been more difficult if we hadn’t found out that the eye drops seemed to work on ghosts just as well as they did on me.
“Practically there… virtually there… now!” he called.
And just like that, I pulled the rock into my inventory.
System: You are over-encumbered and cannot move
“Alrighty, first phase down. Now, for the moment of truth,” I stated. Hold onto your hat, Cameron.
What? Cameron said. I don’t wear a-
“[Blink],” I cast. I reappeared 40 feet away with a huge grin on my face.
While Cameron was doing the spectral equivalent of tossing his lunch, Tim floated back to me.
“If the lower-tier spell was capable of it, I cannot fathom a reason that [Teleport] should not,” he said with a nod of approval.
“[Teleport To Beacon],” I corrected.
Tim raised an eyebrow. “Are we not well within the range of the less expensive cast? Why would you select the option with a higher cost and associated demerit?”
“I think I’m in [Teleport] range,” I stated. “But should we discover that I’m not, that would be all sorts of trouble. I think [Teleport] does a good job of not putting you into walls or anything, but if I end up short and fall into a chasm or something…” I shrugged. “Just seems safer to me to use the beacon.”
Tim sighed. “Very well. I shall take Cameron with me, and we shall return via the more scenic route.”
“You sure that you guys will last the entire way?” I asked in concern.
Tim chuckled. “You seem to forget that we are the ghosts of two of the most prominent spellcasters to ever grace Placeholder with our presence, along with being the highest tier of undead. Do not sully our names further by suggesting this would be a difficulty.”
I frowned. “Well… If you’re sure…” I coughed to clear my throat. “Hey, Cameron. Get out here. You’re going on a walk… errr… a fly with Tim.”
“The first time in ages you let me out, and it’s… in a dark, underground, davehole,” Cameron stated. “Thanks.” He added dryly.
“Don’t mention it,” I replied, ignoring his obvious sarcasm. “Oh, but you’ll need these,” I said as I pulled out the eye drops.
With that, the two returned to the entrance while I pulled my staff back out and prepared the shorter route. In 10 minutes, it was ready.
“Magic of space, guide me home along the channel I have set. Lead me to the beacon I have placed firmly in the expanse of space,” I chanted. “[Teleport To Beacon: Below Entrance]!”
The teleportation worked just as expected. I appeared directly at the beacon and was even oriented in the same direction as when I cast the initial spell.
I had a brief moment to realize wait, that’s bad, before the inverted gravity yanked me upward to the ceiling. I managed to cancel my spell in time to avoid hitting my head, but I did end up crashing back to the floor.
“Ow,” I groaned. “I can’t wait to be done dealing with this gravity bull spit.”
I went to stand up, but…
System: You are over-encumbered and cannot move
“Right,” I stated. Then, out of curiosity, I tried to put my staff back into my inventory.
System: Too heavy
I gasped. “Is that a fat joke, System?” I asked in mock outrage, and then I gave a brief chuckle.
I was in a good mood.
Things have been going well. I thought. And that’s how I know that I’m due for some horrible calamity here soon… probably during the casting of the ritual because, of course, it would be there, but… at least things are looking up for now.
I settled in to wait on the floor until my two friendly ghosts… err… until the two ghosts who were obligated to work with me under oath made it back.
I wonder what those two talk about behind my back?
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“It’s not too late,” Cameron reasoned with Tim as the two floated along. Above ground, through walls, upside down or right-side up, none of that really mattered to a ghost. “The oaths are binding, but I know that the two of us could find a better way of casting the ritual. Without Titus.”
“You truly believe that?” Tim asked, and Cameron could not tell what the inflection in his voice meant. Was he skeptical? Believing? Bored? Before he could figure it out, Tim continued. “Without the [Demon Lord], we may no longer employ his cult without complications. Without his cult, we will be denied access to mines like these and a plurality of the available magicite. Furthermore, without him, we lose our practice space and a willing host to inhabit that we may retain our facsimile of life.”
There was silence for a few moments.
“To state it plainly, I do not comprehend how you would ever expect this endeavor to work without the [Demon Lord],” Tim finished.
Cameron scowled, but he knew that the other former-lich had a point.
“Then… we let him cast the ritual, maybe even get it up until the end, but we take it over and use it to travel back in time ourselves instead,” Cameron said. “I’m sure you would trust the past more to one of us than to him, right?”
Tim didn’t answer right away.
“You have given me much to ponder,” Tim stated. “I will keep this conversation in mind.”
“And not tell Titus, right?” Cameron asked.
“And not tell Titus,” Tim agreed.
The two flew the rest of the way back to Titus in silence. The [Demon Lord] seemed to be stuck on the ground for some reason, but that didn’t stop him from ordering Cameron back inside.
Then, it was back to work for the first [Time Wizard].
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“As expected, Cameron plans to betray you,” Tim stated bluntly. “His current objective is to do so at the conclusion of the ritual that he may usurp your place traveling to the past.”
“Well, frick,” I replied, ensuring Cameron was thoroughly in the MindScape and not listening in. “Should we just take care of him now, or-“
Tim cut me off with a shake of his head. “While I wish that were an option, he is currently too useful to us. I am not positive that we will succeed in preparing the ritual with his aid. Should we eliminate that…”
“Gotcha,” I replied. “Stuck with him until the ritual is ready but need to prepare countermeasures.”
Tim nodded. “I already have some prepared.”
I nodded back, and Tim went to enter my body but paused. “Do you require aid moving your over-encumbered self back to Placeholder?” he asked.
“Already working on it,” I replied. “Sent off an [Advanced Message] to the head cultist here, and he should be bringing a team down for retrieval. They’ll probably be down pretty quick given that they will have the privilege of carrying the [Demon Lord].”
Tim shook his head. “Your followers are truly bizarre,” he stated as he re-entered my body.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I replied.
My prediction came true in just a few minutes. A group of 6 cultists, including the head of the mine, slid down the rope and bowed before my prone form.
“Our lord, we have come at your call!” they all said in unison.
“Yeah, uhhh, great guys,” I replied. “Good work. Now, I need you all to pick me up, move me over, and pull me back to Placeholder using the rope.”
They were all more than willing to oblige, but I could tell the leader had several questions he was keeping himself from asking.
“I can’t do this myself because I’m over-encumbered,” I told him. “I can’t unencumber myself because I don’t have anywhere to set this huge magicite crystal that I want to keep intact.” I paused at that. “Actually, you should probably ready a cart for me after you get me up. A big one. And if we want this thing to be mobile, we’re gonna need more than two horses.”
“Your will!” he stated with another bow.
---------
The next process went about as I expected in that it was horribly embarrassing for all parties involved. While I was correct that they could still lift and carry me, even though I was over-encumbered, pulling me up by the rope was weird and awkward. It would have taken ages if I hadn’t decided to just [Invert Gravity] and splat myself against the ceiling on the Placeholder side.
From there, we had to wait until nighttime because we didn’t want anyone to see the giant crystal get loaded up on the carriage. While I was fine with just chilling and practicing some [Temporus] magic while I waited, the cult was petrified about the fact that their “master was currently vulnerable,” and they watched over me like a hawk.
The only non-awkward thing that came out of their devotion was that one of them quickly decided it was not okay for me to lay there on the floor, so they got me a chair and dragged me up into it.
They also carried me in said chair out to the wagon when it was time, and I realized how it must have felt to be Sarah all those years ago.
I did not envy her.
Anyway, we got the giant chunk of magicite loaded, and I proceeded to tell them all that it was to be kept secret, protected at all times, and that it was worth more than all of their lives combined.
They seemed to take that to heart, but I wasn’t sure what a bunch of low-level cultists could do.
I could have stayed with it myself at all times, but I realized I had made a rather large blunder. I still had to power-level my speakers if I wanted them to be any help in the ritual or with being mana batteries for it. And that meant I had to make a trip back to the snails.
However, if I was going to do it once, I figured I might as well go all out. I sent orders to gather my speakers, any adventurer or advanced classed cultists, and then any other cultists willing to take combat classes to fight and die for me. Oh, and with a preference for people below level 10 because the trick about banking experience wouldn’t work for anyone who had already advanced their class to tier 2.
My problem after that was trimming the number down because everyone vanishing overnight would be suspicious as heck, but the result was that I had about 200 people willing and ready to go with me to the east.
While working through that logistical nightmare, I also decided to get some weapons prepared. After all, these people would be one of my last lines of defense during the ritual, and I wanted to ensure that they could at least hold the line for a bit against whatever shenanigans occurred during the most pivotal point in my plan.
That wasn’t all I did during that preparation, either. It was time to introduce a new character to the mix as well…
-------
“How do I look?” I asked while standing in front of a full-length mirror… that did nothing for me because I was asking Tim about the illusion I was currently projecting.
With that white hair, and belly, you give off the reminiscence of Santa Claus, but only if he lacked a beard and was a beastborn [Priest].
I frowned. “Too much, then?”
Negative. Tim replied. I believe it wise to keep your displayed form as similar physically to your actual, should someone bump into you or otherwise attempt physical inspection. Are you certain about your cover story?
“We had the message from System,” I wrapped the last word in finger quotes, “that stated that the ritual would be given to one of the members of the Embers. So, as [Archdeacon] of the Embers, it would make sense that we would have to ‘go on a pilgrimage’ to the east to obtain it.”
System revelation has never worked like that. Cameron interrupted. Ever.
“The System’s revelation has never given a complete ritual before either,” I retorted. “So, it will be fine. Besides, I need some way to explain all the levels my subordinates will get. Even if I have most of them hide it, this will be more level 25s than this world has ever seen.”
It’s completely ridiculous that you can just level people that easily. Cameron complained.
My eyes shot wide, and I panicked for just a moment… until I remembered that Cameron was a Placeholder native, and the System didn’t seem to care much about their complaints.
“Yeah, well, this entire world is ridiculous from my point of view,” I shot back. “Anyway, we got the people moving. We even have enough adventurers among them that I don’t have to babysit every single step of the way. We have the boat chartered that will take us along the south of Dryadal and get us most of the way there. Why do I feel like I’m missing something?”
To my observation, it seems it has been a few months since you assisted [Prince] Ren with gathering treasure. Tim stated. Have you accounted for that?
“Aw, frick,” I groaned. “No… when’s the next… Today!” I realized in a panic. “I’m late! Uhh…. You two hop out, go possess two of the cultists. They know the drill. I’ll be right back!”
-------
Despite my urgent command, the two specters took their time getting out and finding someone to take over… which was fair. Having a 10-minute cast time on [Teleport To Beacon] did mean that they didn’t exactly have to rush around to ensure they weren’t caught up in it.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
As for the actual teleport and takedown of the treasure turtle, I nearly showed up in the wrong disguise, had kept Ren and company waiting there a few hours after the initial spawn time, and annoyed Ren enough that I could tell that he was irritated.
“I understand a man of your standing must be quite busy, Titus-dono,” he stated.
Uhoh. He’s back to the dono… I thought.
“However, that does not excuse being late to these limited-time opportunities,” he continued. “And any time that you appear here late, or System-forbid, not at all, which is what I was worried you would do to me on this fine solstice day, that will reflect poorly on me. Should my father start to worry too much about why the number of gems has gone down, I may lose my position as head of this expedition. And neither of us would want that to happen, no?”
I nodded along. “Yeah, sorry. Lost track of what day it is. It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t,” he stated curtly. Then, with a sigh, he continued. “Now, onto other matters… what are these rumors I hear about me or my father personally funding the entirety of the deathlands restoration ritual?”
“I have no idea,” I… kinda lied? I mean, I had an idea, but it wasn’t like I had sure proof that-
“The Embers have been paying for everything in gems, no?” he asked.
Drat.
“Since my father and I have paid merely a pittance towards that ritual compared to the outlandish costs it has been racking up, that would leave the only other culprit available to be you,” Ren stated. “My elder brother has too many muscles in place of his brain to try to make a play around this, and my elder sister believes it to be a fool’s errand. But who else would have access to a large number of gems and a desire to spend them in a way that is not through normal channels?”
He gave me a pointed look after that.
“Fine,” I sighed. “You got me. So what?”
“Ha ha!” Ren laughed. “I knew it!” Then, he shrugged, and we started heading back toward the group. “And as for this questioning… it was merely a bit of curiosity and an attempt to know my business partner better. I did not realize you were keen on the removal of the deathlands yourself.”
“The undead are enemies to me, too,” I replied. Then, under my breath. “And I have an oath to fulfill.”
Note to self. Don’t try to whisper anything around the man with bunny ears.
He immediately pivoted toward me with a look of horror on his face.
“No… no, you can’t be planning to…” he trailed off as he looked at me in terror. “You already failed. You tried to fulfill your oath, and you failed. That is what the scholars said. You cannot be planning to co-op their preparations to cast time magic!”
I’d already said too much, and the man was too clever by half. I stopped and stared him down. “And if I am?” I asked, with my Demon Lord aura pressing down on him too.
“I-I-I will stop you!” Ren blurted out. “This ritual is too large, and I will not sit back and let you destroy an entire country! Or possibly the world!”
I sighed. Looks like it’s time to [Get Into Character].
I activated the skill… then gave Ren a quick [Fire Strike] punch to the gut to double him over and one to the back of his head to put him into the sand.
“Let me make one thing clear here,” I stated as I rested my boot on his back. “You. Cannot. Stop me.”
Ren was still in a party, so the rest of them immediately took off running toward us and came upon the scene of me looming over the prone Ren.
“You have two choices, little [Prince],” I continued. “You can either keep working with me and getting your fair share of gems, or I can come here by myself and get an even better return on my time.” I chuckled darkly. “I might even relieve you of your oaths. Let you send all your [Monks] and [Martial Elders] here to stop me.” I leaned down over him. “It will just increase the amount of loot I take back.”
One of his men had enough and fought through my aura to charge me with a war cry.
I let his first several [Elemental Strikes] land and stifled a yawn before knocking him away with a single [Air Strike].
“[Hell Blaze],” I cast at the unlucky soldier.
Internally, I winced a bit at the man’s screams, but I was pretty sure he was above 0 HP, so he was going to be fine… probably.
“I hope this better explains the situation that you’re in,” I continued. “I am not someone you get to dictate terms to. I am not someone you get to complain to about being late. And I am not someone you can even damage unless you get a nice little title from the System that says [Hero].”
I kicked the [Prince], without [Elemental Strike], since I didn’t want to kill the man, over to one of his subordinates.
“So, keep that in mind, [Prince]. I will be here whether our partnership continues or not. The only difference is how much of Besti will have to burn,” I stated while facing away.
[Prince] Ren’s personal soldiers stood around for a bit longer, but I waved them off, and they eventually got the picture. They all slowly turned and left for Besti as I stood there fuming in the sun.
That went about as horribly as possible. Ren, why the frick did you have to figure things out? I groaned as I waited for enough mana to teleport back across the world. Well, I guess I’ll find out if I scared him enough to keep him from doing something stupid. We still need those gems for funding.
After what felt like an incredibly long time, but was just around an hour, I was back in Gram collecting my two favorite undead.
The one that I actually cared about came to complain soon.
Titus. Tim stated to my mind. The Mindscape seems incredibly unstable today. Are you experiencing mental distress?
“No more than normal,” I sighed. “Here, maybe this will help. [Restore].” I cast. It cleared up a couple of lesser mental conditions and even a minor one. I nodded to Tim. “There. Should be all better.”
However, Tim hesitated instead of going right back in. I am… reluctant to offer this advice, given the state you encountered me in before my demise-
“Just spit it out, Tim,” I replied.
Perhaps journaling might assist you with your mental ailments? He suggested. I personally found it of great assistance in-
“You were a complete nutcase when I found you,” I stated bluntly.
He paused for several seconds. Fair assessment. He acknowledged. However, it would behoove you to know that… I would have been much worse had I not kept a journal.
I frowned. I wasn’t sure I was buying it.
He continued. Aside from that, I am proof that it is possible to lose memories, and I am sure you have ones you would rather remember at all costs.
My frown turned to a scowl. “My memory is perfectly fine, thank you very much,” I stated.
Truly? Then, do you happen to remember… say… why you and my father did not get along?
“He [Healed] me and stuff,” I replied. “It hurt. That and he was enabling your selfish little prick behavior.” I paused. “No offense.”
Then, do you not even remember the duels? Tim prodded in lieu of being offended by me calling him a prick.
“The duels?” I asked. “Which ones?” I racked my brain for a moment. There were the ones with Sam, the ones with Lindsey… I thought to myself. “Oh! Right! The ones where you thought you were hot sit, and I had to put you in your place!” I frowned as I remembered the next part. “And then Andrew nearly killed me. I almost…”
I trailed off, and I could practically feel Tim staring at me.
“… forgot,” I said quietly. “Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll write a frickin’ journal. Just to make sure I remember the important bits and to help me be less crazy, okay?”
That’s all I ask. Tim replied, even as I steamrolled over him and kept going.
“Even though it’s a stupid idea writing all of this stuff down since it could easily be used against me if someone managed to steal it.”
There is little chance of that. Tim replied. This is not Earth where you must leave your book somewhere it can be taken. Anytime you are not writing, it is safe in your inventory-
“[Steal] says hello!” I mocked.
-And [Steal] can be mitigated by ensuring that the book is of commensurate value. He finished.
“Oh, so now I’m wasting even more money on this stupid idea,” I grumbled.
Titus, you can produce more gold-equivalent value in a single solstice than I obtained in my life. Tim stated bluntly. You can afford the extravagance of an expensive journal.
I’m pretty sure that I knew Tim was right. I just didn’t want to go with the idea since I wasn’t the one that came up with it.
However, my feet did eventually take me to a high-end bookstore. I started perusing, and mocking, their enchanted wares immediately.
“Hey, look, this one has increased durability… in case you need to smack someone over the head with it!” I scoffed as I set it back down. “And this one reverses all the writing that you put in it!... Which makes it irritating to read and no less secure because of how obvious it is.”
“Oh, but what’s this? A built-in nightlight?” I gasped in mock surprise. “Truly the greatest invention of our time! A boon to everyone… who doesn’t already have [Darkvision].” I set it back down in a huff.
“Sir, can I help you?” a timid clerk asked as he approached me.
A quick scowl and a hint of Demon Lord aura sent him scurrying off, and I was back to the drawing board.
At least, until I saw another pile of potential journals stacked haphazardly off to the side.
“Excuse me, [Clerk]!” I called for the man I had just scared away. To his credit, he did eventually shuffle over. “What’s with this… ‘rejects’ pile?”
The man nodded. “Ah, those are ones whose enchantments went… not quite as planned,” he stated. “System still values them rather highly, but the owner did not feel it would be right to charge the full amount. We still must require purchase at the full price as all reputable [Merchants] do, but there is a rebate that is… negotiable.”
“I see,” I muttered. There was a large one that caught my eye immediately. It had a black cover, and the word “tome” seemed more appropriate for it than journal.
The [Clerk] shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend that one unless you want to play a prank.” When I gave him a quizzical look, he continued. “The crafter meant for it to be the ultimate private journal, readable by only the person who wrote it, but the results were… less than ideal. Go ahead and write in it.”
With a raised eyebrow, I opened the book and made a scribble underneath all the other visible scribbles.
“As you can see,” he continued. “The illusion works on everyone, including the writer.”
“I see,” I replied as if I was deep in thought… which was partially true. Holy frick. A book only I can read? Wait… what about…
“What happens if you just let the book run out of mana?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that end the illusion?”
The man nodded. “Yes, but it has a built-in safety mechanism for that. The same enchantment that enables the illusions also opens the spine. Should it run out of mana…” The man slowly took the book and set it down, and the book snapped shut viciously. “… Another reason it is in this pile. We do not generally sell books that can physically damage their owners.”
“And what happens if someone tries to remove the spine to avoid all that?” I asked.
“If someone tries to force it open or otherwise circumvent the enchantment, the entire book will uhh… burst into flames,” he stated quietly.
“I absolutely love it. It’s perfect,” I replied… which is a terrible way to start negotiations. I coughed to buy some time for my brain to catch up and then continued. “For a prank, of course. Useless as an actual journal, but I’d be willing to take it off your hands.”
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Journaling ended up being pretty cathartic for me. According to Tim, my mind was still getting more unstable even after I started, but at the very least, it seemed to slow that process down a good deal.
And the other benefit to having a book that I was sure no one else could read was that I finally had a place to write down important names. No longer would I run into the awkward scenario of not remembering my speakers’ names… or accidentally thinking that one of them was based in a different location than they were.
Not that location ended up mattering much for the time until the ritual. The reason for that was that my speakers were included in the list of people I took to the east to get some levels.
It was slow going, and I even had to break away from the group to kill another treasure turtle (Ren chose wisely and didn’t betray me. However, he was so terrified of me that he barely spoke a word).
As for the leveling, things went exactly to plan with no hiccups… for the first two groups at least.
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“Alright, group number 3,” I called out as I returned to our base camp. “Your turn, just like the others, two kills, and then you’ll be good to go.”
The cultists in that group nodded and then jumped to their feet. They went to follow me… when suddenly everyone clutched at their heads.
What now? I asked myself in irritation.
Group 3 gave me a confused look, and one of my speakers finally stepped forward.
“My lord, forgive us our woeful ignorance!” he pleaded. “How will these humble children contribute enough to the kill to gain experience?”
Contribution? Let me guess… the System decided that too many level 25s would be too strong and decided to make that impossible. I thought.
To your recollection, was contribution not a required element to gain experience? Tim asked.
No. I replied. So it’s another patch. Before Tim could get the headache thinking about that, I continued. What exactly does contribution entail?
Contribution is a bit… imprecise. Tim replied. You must have dealt a certain threshold of damage, provided a certain amount of support to the party, or otherwise have… contributed… to the kill. He paused. The higher the level difference between you and the kill, the greater your portion of the contribution must be to gain full experience.
Well, frick. I thought. There’s no way I can get them XP for killing the snails, then. Some of them are barely level 3. Then I paused with a brief chuckle. I also just made it 100 times harder for groups to hit level 10 for the first time. They can’t just have someone carry them through a dungeon anymore.
“Your… lordship?” my speaker, who I had completely ignored to have a conversation entirely in my mind, finally spoke up.
“I will detail what occurred to my speakers later on,” I stated. “For now… we will just have to improvise.”
-------
My version of improvisation was, “if I can’t kill giant snails, I’ll just make a new dungeon with high-level monsters and have them farm that.”
And so, I created a new dungeon just a few miles west of the great eastern volcanoes. I populated it primarily with stone golems, which were different than earth golems, and that gave my cultists plenty of high-level slow targets to take down.
They still wouldn’t have stood a chance against the things if I didn’t help by restraining the golem so they could just wail on it.
Apparently, as long as I didn’t deal damage, they could still get full contribution.
However, that would have still been a painfully slow process if not for a suggestion by one of my speakers. He wanted to upgrade his class to be useful immediately… which was a problem because the only obelisks for miles were mine.
And that was when I discovered I could induct people into my faction directly. Apparently, being one of my cultists wasn’t enough. I had to invite them formally, and they had to cast off their allegiance to the nation of their birth. They would then have the option to use my obelisks just like I could… and no others.
They were, of course, absolutely ecstatic about the chance, so they all clamored to join immediately.
And I, foolishly, decided I may as well induct them all at once.
That was how I ended up with 200 red-eyed cultists singing my praises as I wondered how I could keep them incognito with such a blatant sign they were on my team.
It wasn’t all bad, though. My speakers hit level 25 because of the leveling exploit, and my other group of 9 that I had taken before the nerf also got that many levels.
I took to calling them my “fangs” because they would be more focused on combat, and apparently, the name stuck. They were literally given a class [Fang of the Demon Lord].
They also wanted to establish a hierarchy within that, and I basically just shrugged and let them do what they wanted. A bunch of fights later, I had my “first fang” through “ninth fang.”
After that, it turned into a boot camp. My fangs, my speakers, and I would help the lowbies level for a few hours, then we would return, and I would teach them all [Disguise Self] to deal with their newfound eye problems. Most of them didn’t have the mana to cast it by themselves, but I had prepared a large number of wands for the cult anyway… since their primary purpose was originally to be mana generators.
Speaking of mana generators, Tim rightfully piped up that charging would be a serious problem. He mentioned one alternative right away. Both liches had the ability to siphon the death energy from the deathlands to cast their spells. That implied that it could be funneled into magicite for use in the ritual.
That seemed promising, and I was sure we would need to use that too, but I had some old trade partners I had to contact first.
--------
Secondavia was passing a lazy day in the fey forest when she felt the familiar pull of a failed [Scry].
Tis just a prank. She thought to herself as she turned over in her hammock. There tis nay a reason to respond.
The [Scry] came again.
This prankster art persistent. She grumbled. That narrowed the list of possible offenders considerably. Petalspark? Rainycone? She thought.
A third attempt came. And then a fourth right after.
Nay, tis not… She trailed off and then immediately flew out of her hammock, fixed her hair, and allowed the [Scry] through… with a reverse spell in place that let her see the target as well.
“Greetings, Titus, my immortal brethren!” Secondavia chirped as if she had not stolen nearly a thousand stories from him. “Tis been some time since we last spoke.”
“Indeed,” Titus replied. “Though, last time we spoke, it did seem like I did most of the talking.” He stated dryly.
Secondavia laughed nervously along with him. He doth not hold a grudge… doth he?
“Anyway, I’m calling because I’m looking to make a trade,” he continued.
Trade. Just trade. Secondavia relaxed a bit. “What art thou wishing to trade?”
“Stories for mana,” he stated. “I just need you to fill up a magicite crystal or two.”
Secondavia scowled before she could catch herself. “I shall not allow thee to place yonder cursed gems in our abode.”
Titus held up a hand in a placating gesture. “We would leave it outside the forest, and you could charge it at your leisure.” He paused. “Well, not at your leisure since we’re in a bit of a time crunch, but you know what I mean.”
Secondavia’s scowl softened to a slight frown. “And the stories thou wouldst trade would be-“
“Not mine this time,” Titus stated. Then he made a gesture, and a white-haired gent entered the [Scry]. “This is Barnabas Reytris. Barnabas, you’re in the presence of royalty, so go ahead and bow.”
“Your majesty,” he stated as he gave a deep bow.
“He’s an old guy. Has a lot of stories. Even has the [Storyteller] class. What do you think?”
From there, many discussions were had about how much mana would be given in exchange for all the elder’s stories. Titus argued for several magicite pieces worth and was very careful to add that the gems were not to be cut, modified, or left at less than 100% filled.
That was all well and good and exactly the level of care that Secondavia would expect him to take in an agreement with the fey, but something continued to nag her about the situation.
She wanted to obtain more information but couldn’t [Scry] Titus… fortunately for her, the foolish [Storyteller] had given up his full name!
“[Scry] Barnabas Reytris!” she cast over her personal scrying pool and watched as the old man approached the immortal.
She made sure that she kept her [Scry] far enough away to avoid detection and then increased the volume as she zoomed in.
“-my impertinence,” she caught the man saying. “But I cannot help but think that selling all my memories for a few gems is…”
“Less than you’re worth?” Titus asked.
“Yes, my lord,” Barnabas said with another bow. “I am confident you have a plan, so forgive my impertinence once more.”
Titus sighed, looked right and left, and then whispered. “You’re lucky the fey can’t [Scry] me,” he stated. “Anyway, come closer.”
The two huddled, and Secondavia could barely catch what they were doing on the [Scry].
“This,” Titus stated as he pulled out a piece of magicite that fit into his hand. “Is probably what they think I’m asking to be charged. But in reality, it’s more like this.” He stated as he pulled a second magicite crystal that went halfway down his forearm and was twice as thick. “So, don’t worry. I’ll make sure that we get paid enough for your due.”
The old man breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, my lord. I can accept this much easier now.”
Secondavia grinned to herself as she cut the [Scry] out. “Titus thought himself able to outwit the fey! Nay! He shall pay the price for his trick!”
Titus tried to [Scry] her a few more times after that, but she refused to do any more negotiations until they could meet face to face.
A few months later, they did so at the edge of the Fey forest. Secondavia made sure to have some of her retainers with her as they met. All of them were invisible to mortals that Titus had brought with him, and she made sure none of them could hear the gathered fey either.
“Are you ready to make a deal?” Titus asked after they had finished their pleasantries.
“Indeed, mine court and I are ready… though not for the hefty price thou wouldst trick us into!” Secondavia stated. “For a crystal the size thou were planning, the stories of a single soul are scarcely enough. We demand further recompense!”
“The size I was planning?” Titus asked with a confused look on his face. “Wait…” He groaned as his hand went to cover his face. “You [Scried] me, didn’t you? But how? Unless…” He groaned again. “Barnabas. I told his full frickin’ name, didn’t I?”
“Indeed!” Secondavia said with a laugh. “We are quite grateful to thee for handing us the key to thine plans. So, how wilt thou make reparations for this deceit?”
“Can’t you just call it even from all the stories I told you?” Titus pleaded. “If this is going to work out, this will need to be a partnership that lasts for decades.”
Secondavia had the advantage. She was not willing to relinquish it. “Nay, for thine attempt at trickery, we demand recompense, or thee shalt deal with us no further.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Rule of 3… I’ll give you the old man’s stories-“
“Thou hast already offered us that,” Secondavia interjected, but Titus kept going.
“-all my tales of a land deep and dark beneath the earth, and…” Titus trailed off and continued in a whisper. “The full story of the bravest [Hero] to ever come to Placeholder.”
Secondavia could tell that the last story would be painful, and he had even tried to hold to the rule of 3. That bargain is hard enough struck. Secondavia thought to herself. “Thy bargain shall be enough… just by a hair’s breadth,” she stated.
Titus looked relieved.
And so, the oath was hammered out. Secondavia and the fey would charge one magicite crystal of Titus’ choosing without cutting it, modifying it, or making any other changes. They would also charge it “as soon as feasible.”
Meanwhile, the terms that Titus laid out were essentially what he had listed, though he, of course, tried to slip some things past that Secondavia had to veto.
Eventually, the oaths were sworn. And immediately after, gone was the meek and mild Titus who had approached her.
“Many thanks, [Queen] of the fey!” Titus said with a wide grin. “As for the crystal in question, I’ll bring it out now!”
He whistled loudly, and a group of his men came out of the woods beside a large cart.
Secondavia had a brief moment of confusion because she was sure the crystal had been on him. That brief confusion was immediately overshadowed by dread.
I hath been tricked. She thought as Titus congratulated Barnabas on his acting.
And then, the crystal was revealed. It was no mere gem or nugget but a veritable mountain, and Secondavia had unwittingly sold her people to fill it for a pittance.
Half of her court fainted straight away, and Secondavia nearly joined them. However, she had a more important mission… begging.
“Mercy, [Demon Lord]!” Secondavia called out as she fell at Titus’ feet. “Mercy! My people will wither and die ‘ere we fill yonder mountain! Or worse, the ley line shall shrivel, and we shall be left magicless in a cruel world! Mercy!”
“You can’t fill it from this ley line alone,” Titus stated. “But what about from all of them?” he asked. Secondavia looked up in confusion as he continued. “I know you have limits on the magic you can cast from one spot. So, when you get close to that, you move, and I’ll bring the crystal to your next place.” He paused. “Also, you won’t be filling that alone since I’m going to be working on it too.”
Secondavia swallowed. “That… mayeth be conceivable.” She gave a pleading look to Titus. “Thou wilt truly not free us from this oath?”
Titus shook his head. “No. This is what I need to do to cast the ritual.” He paused. “I might also be just a bit salty about the one thousand stories thing.”
The [Queen’s] heart sank. She and her subjects were doomed to be little more than mana generators until their task was complete. And that gave rise to one last problem.
“What shall we eat?” Secondavia blurted out. “A single doddering geriatric shan’t feed us for that long, and we shall lack the magic to obtain more stories.”
Titus nodded slowly. “I’ll make sure to keep you fed. Just let me know,” he paused and knelt down. “Besides, you have to remember what you’re really doing this for. Do you not want Primavia back?”
Of course she did, but before she could answer, they were interrupted by a message from System.
System: The chosen Hero is now eligible!
System: A new Hero has been chosen
Both of them looked at that. Titus grimaced, but that slowly faded into a grin. “You wouldn’t happen to be hungry for a [Hero’s] memories… would you?”