The next few days passed in a blur for Ted, pushed to the limit by Jeremy. During the day, Ted alternated between sprinting and walking to keep up, very much the slowest link in the chain. At night, he practiced Spellcrafting and Protection magic until Jeremy insisted he go to sleep.

The first night after the ruins, Ted crafted a short duration, weak potency Protection/Aegis/Absorb spell. While under the effects of that, he crafted another, more potent version, and then repeated the cycle. Each new spell covered the next against the risk of a miscrafted or miscast spell and ratcheted up the power level.

Spell failures happened, although less and less frequently, and now he knew not to fight it. The moment control began slipping away, he released it. The blasts often still overwhelmed the Absorb spell, but they were significantly less deadly. On the bright side, he got extra healing practice.

Ted couldn’t help his mind dwelling on the dangers of spellcasting. How did non-Hero casters deal with it? There had to be a way, right? Besides just only casting spells that were known to be well crafted, and never casting anything below 100% success rate.

Maybe that was the only way for them. Maybe the world was designed purely for the benefit of Heroes.

Still, Absorb was going to be be very useful, both for him and the Rangers. A shame that it had to be bound to the Aegis form to work. A Touch version that could be cast by the instructor would provide a higher potency effect with less risk.

He studied the Blast Arrow spell during the long, dull treks north through the Forest. The Force/Imbue-Sphere/Blast spell was a masterpiece of complexity Ted was a long way off replicating, but the clues on how to splice two forms together were all there. All he had to do was find them.

Over the course of those days and nights, Ted increased his Protection magic skill to 5, Spellcrafting to 4, Life magic up to 3, and Transmutation up to 1.

Unsurprisingly, the basic Protection perks were much the same as with Fire magic.

Stability (0/5): Increases stability of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Power (0/5): Increases potency of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Quick Cast (0/5): Increases casting speed of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Critical Chance (0/5): Increases critical chance of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Critical Severity (0/5): Increases critical severity of Protection magic by 20% per level.

Cast in Motion (0/5): Decreases the accuracy and movement speed penalty from casting Protection magic while moving by 20% per level.

He put two Protection perk points into Stability. That would allow casting, and thus crafting, more powerful Absorb spells safely. The other three points went into Power. More potency, more protection, less danger from miscasts, hostile mages, and, well, pretty much anything, via the Armor and Absorb effects.

Life had the same basic perks as well. He put a point each into Stability and Power, and the third into Quick Cast. With healing magic, every moment might be the difference between life and death.

Spellcrafting posed the hardest choice. Speed wasn’t a priority. An extra half-second on a cast wasn’t a huge issue, particularly not for Protection spells. Cohesion would be useful down the line, but for now, even three aspects were a handful, let alone the four that Insights to Aspects supported.

Burst firepower would decide fights. Neither Durability nor Efficiency improved that, leaving a choice between Stability and Power. Power was only 5%, but it would boost mana efficiency as well. Stability was 10%, but the more he pushed a spell’s potency, the faster stability would decay. Both would have their uses. He added a point to each, bringing them both up to 2.

Forced marches and magical learning filled his day to the exhausting brim until, finally, the Forest gave way to wide open grassy plains. Rather than a slow thinning of the trees, it passed from thick forest to flat grass in the space of a hundred yards. No buildings, no signs, no indications of any civilization beyond a single dirt tracking leading off to the north.

Ted stared out at the horizon, wondering when it had become such a foreign concept. Last time he’d seen the horizon beyond the trees had been… before. Before his life had turned upside down. Before he’d been stolen away. Before he’d been forced to fight for his life again and again.

And now that dirt track was the next step on the long road to the Divine Empire, the Emperor, and everything that lay in wait along the way.

Out of the Forest, into the fire.

The wood elven books indicated that the denizens of the world were not all as community-minded as they were, to say the least. While it was possible that was propaganda, it was vastly more plausible that the wood elves were unusually welcoming, especially when it came to the orcs living nearby.

Ted forced out a smile, determined not to part on bad terms, no matter how stupid it was that Jeremy couldn’t accompany them. “This is the border, then? More sudden than I expected.”

“Aye.” Jeremy lowered his voice, leaned closer and gestured toward Cara, who was staring wistfully back at the forest. “Make sure you look after her.”

“I will.” As best I can. “But who’ll look after me?”

Jeremy smiled and shook his head. “Don’t die too often.”

“I’ll try. You too. On that note, I’ve got an idea for a spell, but… I need someone to test it on.”

Ted explained his idea for a Protection/Touch-Aegis/Absorb spell and talked through the construction with Jeremy. Even without the cohesion penalty, an extra aspect brought with it extra complications on top of the additional mana and stability cost.

Fortunately, Jeremy had a few insights to share from his wealth of experience as a caster. After a few last-minute modifications, all that was left was live testing.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“You sure about this?” Ted asked.

“Worth the risk,” Jeremy said. “We both Absorb up, then you cast it.”

Ted took a deep breath, trying hopelessly to still the racing of his heart. The nominal success chance for the spell was 100%, but that meant diddly-squat if he’d crafted it wrong, and it was far more complex than any spell he’d crafted before.

If this turned into a mana vortex, the Absorb effects would be like pissing into an erupting volcano. Killing Jeremy would be a terrible way to say thank you, not to mention devastating to the Wood Elven Rangers.

“Wait,” Ted said, switching out the Touch form and putting some distance between them.

As expected, the Target form wasn’t compatible with the spell. Unsurprising, given it worked instantly over distance without line of sight—probably limited to magic like Telepathy and Portals. Projectile, on the other hand, slipped right in, requiring almost no adjustment, besides reducing the potency to maintain that 100% casting success chance.

Ted triple checked the new Protection/Projectile-Aegis/Absorb spell, and signaled with a nod that he was ready. Both of them recast their Absorb spells and, his heart in his throat, Ted drew on what little mana the test spell required.

His hands weaved the intricate pattern of the spell, building its teal majesty piece by piece, binding the mana to it until the spell stood on its own, waiting to be unleashed.

“Nismaevka,” Ted hissed, launching a teal streak at Jeremy. It collided with his chest, a direct hit, but the magic fizzled away without effect.

“Good work,” Jeremy said, walking toward Ted. “Teach me the touch version, as powerful as you can.”

Ted smiled, pretending he hadn’t completely forgotten that Jeremy’s more powerful Absorb effect would take precedence. “Coming right up.”

It only took three casts for Jeremy to learn the Touch-Aegis version, and even then, Ted suspected that the second and third weren’t technically necessary.

Jeremy bowed deeply. “Thank you. This will save lives. We’ll have the recruits battle-ready in record time.”

An unexpected warmth tingled in Ted’s heart at the knowledge that, in some small way, he was helping to safely train a new wave of wood elven casters. “Happy to help.”

Cara approached with slumped shoulders and a quivering smile. “You guys done?”

How hard was leaving going to hit her? Unease settled in the pit of Ted’s stomach. He was a long, long way from home, but it wasn’t the same. She would actually miss the Forest, and that was before even considering the tree-song’s absence.

Was that something to envy, or pity?

He swallowed. Neither. Not now. There was too much at stake. “Pretty much. Here, Jeremy, you should take these books. Reltan’s probably already raising a search party for them.”

“They’ll get back safe. Make sure the two of you do, too.”

Cara and Jeremy shared a look—a fleeting goodbye through the tree-song?—and then that was it. Jeremy turned and left, speeding home far faster than Ted could ever have matched.

Cara straightened up, turned her back on the Forest, and set off up the dirt track. Ted walked along side her, unsure what to say.

There wasn’t anything to say. No words could change the situation. It was what it was.

The usual spring in her steps was gone. She didn’t even fidget with anything. Occasionally, she stole a glance over her shoulder, but otherwise she put one foot in front of the other and kept going.

He indulged her silence. Space was what she needed. Or was that just easier for him? This was her first time leaving the Forest, her first time away from the song that connected all her people.

All her people except her. And the only person beside her was a human she barely knew. Nothing he said could make that better, especially now that she knew what he was.

Time dragged by as they walked along the long road north. Grasslands gave way to farmland, mostly grain crops of some kind. Occasionally, hulking figures toiled in the distance, working the land with tools far larger than any human could have handled.

No mechanization—were they still subsistence farming? Ted suspected he could revolutionize farming here, if he put his mind to it. Or maybe not. He wasn’t exactly a bastion of farming knowledge.

Maybe, if he couldn’t escape this backwater hellhole, he’d take to farming when this was all over. Start a little farm near the Great Forest, spend his time discovering all the ways to use magic to kickstart civilization here.

That, and hunting to make up for being such a terrible farmer.

He stifled a chuckle. No, farming wasn’t for him, but the thought of nothing trying to kill him or hating him or bills to pay was not half attractive. Besides, if there had been ten thousand years of no progress, maybe there was something in the way, blocking progress?

Something… or someone?

As you wish.

The memory of those words forcing themselves into his mind raked a chill down his spine. Whoever was behind this had a lot to answer for.

The sun was low in the sky when a small village finally came into view, and gloomy silence still hovered between them. Ted glanced at Cara and gritted his teeth. It was time to stop shying away from the elephant in the room. “You okay?”

She stared blankly at him, blinked a few times, and nodded. “It’s just so… quiet. So alone.”

“I’m here.” Not that it was going to help.

A half-hearted shrug was all that came back. “I’ll be okay.”

Ted’s gut twisted, but he’d done his part. The rest was up to her. “Alright.”

They headed into the village, and an uneasy tension settled in Ted. The splattering of houses with wooden walls and thatched roofs looked just like recreations of medieval houses—just like, that is, except for their size. The doors were twice as wide and maybe half as tall again as a standard doorway.

The uncanny valley effect in full swing, Ted mused, tugging at his top lip with his teeth. The closer they drew to the buildings, the more off-putting the effect was. At least the brick manor overlooking the village from atop the hill had the decency to be far enough away to not shove it in his face.

The village wasn’t much more than a few dozen houses centered around a circular town square, with a barn and a mill on the outskirts. Around the square itself stood a stone building—a blacksmith, from the looks of the forge and anvil—and a wooden two-story tavern bustling with villagers drinking. Not so different from how it might have been on Earth long ago, except they were all orcs.

Green skinned, six to eight feet tall with the physiques of linesmen, and two oversized tusks protruding from their lower jaws. Cara strolled on toward the tavern as if they weren’t alien figures.

An ache swelled in the back of Ted’s throat. If anyone here was an alien, it was him. Hopefully, they’d be friendly.

Ted wondered if they should have buffed up first, but Cara would never have let him. Worse, she’d have been right. Anyone who Identified them or had Discern Magic active would notice the combat buffs right away, and their weapons already pushed against the limits of acceptability. Arriving armed and ready for battle would be unwise.

At least he’d made a few new spells while Cara had cooked breakfast. He pinched his bottom lip between his teeth and told himself not to worry. They didn’t have any reason to expect a fight. The orcs were probably lovely.

A heavily armored orc stood out front of the tavern, at least eight feet tall, his visor down. His plate armor glistened in the dying sunlight, competing for attention with the vivid dragon crest emblazoned upon the heater shield slung across his back. A huge sword hung on his left hip, nearly long enough to catch the ground, and a mace on his right.

Opposite stood a braying pack of five orcs, all bare from the waist up. They each wore a necklace made from small white objects strung together. Weapons hung at their belts, ranging from daggers to maces, and their hands rested on them, itching to draw.

The largest of them stepped forward and squared up to the armored orc, growling and baring his teeth. Maybe they weren’t all lovely after all.

Ted took Cara’s hand. They didn’t need to be part of this. “Let’s go.”

She brushed him off. “No. Be ready—he might need help.”