Agony dragged Ted back into consciousness. He blinked his eyes open, and a groan forced itself out from his lungs.

He stared up at the stone ceiling riddled with murder holes. He was still in the portal lobby? He hadn’t died?

Pain tortured every nerve in his arms and pulsated in his face. No. Definitely not dead. He clenched his eyes shut and whimpered. Dying didn’t hurt this much.

At least he wouldn’t have to deal with Death today.

“And you’ve done all that you can?”

Luther? What was he doing here? Ted tried to pull himself up, but the pain got the better of him.

“He should rest,” a gruff, dwarven voice said.

Footsteps retreated, and a presence loomed over Ted.

He pushed through the pain and opened his eyes to see Luther staring down at him through narrowed eyes, his lips pressed together even more solemnly than usual.

“Easy there, lad. Take your time.”

Ted nodded. Even that hurt.

Everything hurt, except for his left hand. That only tingled.

Why did it only tingle?

A lump formed in Ted’s throat. He lifted his left arm up, bringing his hand in front of his face.

He blinked. No. No, no, no, no, no!

“The medic did what he could,” Luther said. “The damage was too extensive.”

Ted stared at the bandaged stump and half-laughed, half-cried. “I don’t suppose there’s any regeneration magic you’ve been holding back from me?”

Luther shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Ted shrugged. Whatever. “Better than being dead. At least I won’t have to deal with that smug prick for a little while longer.”

A vacant expression stared back. Typical.

“How long was I out?”

“Half an hour, give or take. We gave you a potion for the pain. Spellcrafting accident?”

“Right.” Ted forced himself to his feet, noting the dwarven soldiers depositing supplies in the room.

“What went wrong?”

“Not tight enough bindings for the conjunction. Won’t happen again.” Ted winced and clenched his jaw. There wasn’t long before they left for the Great Forest, and those cross-type spells could be the difference between saving Cara and not. “You should probably give me space, though.”

Luther shook his head. “We need you ready for battle, not dead. I can’t stop you, but now isn’t the right time.”

Ted scoffed. “What’s the worst that can happen? If I die, I get a new body.”

Luther’s eyes narrowed and his breathing slowed. “Heroes…” He sighed and straightened up. “Alright, clear the room. You have half an hour, Ted. Then this room becomes a staging area.”

Ted nodded. “Thank you.”

The dwarven soldiers finished their deliveries and marched out of the room. Luther shook his head again before following them.

Was this a bad idea? Ted took a step forward and winced. The still-burning pain strongly suggested it was.

Whatever. Lacking both Absorb and Armor spells, he was a liability.

A liability that would get people killed, not save them.

Ted snorted. Other people, not him. Death refused to claim him. Not that he needed to give the bastard any extra opportunities to take away his powers. Death would come soon enough.

Tighter bindings. That’s what was needed.

He amended the spell and checked over it multiple times, imagining how casting it would unfold. Would it be enough? Would it hold together this time?

Probably.

Hopefully.

If not, well, having only one hand was a bit of a drag.

He cast the Telepathy/Self/Hold spell and felt a tingle against his Mental Resistance.

Mental intrusion resisted.

Spellcrafting skill increased 9 → 10!

Ritual Spellcrafting Specialization unlocked.

Continuous Spellcrafting Specialization unlocked.

Grimoire Spellcrafting Specialization unlocked.

Ted’s lungs swelled with joy. Sweet, sweet success, even if he was stuck with one hand for now.

And now a permanent choice. Ted’s brow wrinkled. The Specializations had been mentioned in the Spellcrafting book, but only in passing. Rituals were powerful, dangerous, and time-consuming to set up. Continuous spells reduced mana regeneration while active, but didn’t expire until dismissed or the caster went out of range. Grimoire enabled the creation of spellbooks.

Continuous spells would certainly help with staying alive, at least if cross-class spells could replicate Absorb and Armor. Grimoire would make teaching easier, especially for those without Discern Magic. Plus, he’d be able to actually people teach Dispel and any other effects that Death stole from him.

Ritual spells were harder to assess. Each one had to be created for its own unique purpose, which could be anything from healing a specific injury to causing an earthquake. They weren’t bound by the usual rules of magic, which made them impossible to precisely control or predict.

Powerful and dangerous. Ted scratched his head. Could the Zelnari book have been talking about ritual spells? It fitted with the context. Was it a warning, or singing their praises?

This was too important a question to decide on the hoof. Luther had a lot more experience with magic, even if he wasn’t a Spellcrafter. He’d probably have more insights.

Focusing back on the task at hand, Ted experimented with different aspect combinations, making sure each time that the conjunction was adequately bound.

Force/Aegis/Armor increased armor, much the same as Protection. Maybe it didn’t work as effectively against everything, but since magic bypassed armor anyway, Ted doubted it mattered.

Force/Aegis/Absorb successfully held together, and casting it added an Absorb (Force) effect that was a little light on details. He’d need to test exactly what it absorbed.

Ted tensed up, and slapped himself in the face.

0 bashing damage received (1 absorbed)!

He barely felt the impact, either on his cheek or his palm. It was like the momentum simply vanished.

Interesting. Time to see if it worked against magic, too. He crafted and cast a low potency Force/Self/Blast.

4 force damage received!

A blast of pain hit his chest.

Stupid. He shook his head and laughed. Of course it hadn’t worked—the Self aspect completely bypassed the Aegis. He crafted a Force/Touch/Blast instead and pressed the spell against his leg.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

0 force damage received (6 absorbed)!

That time, it was barely even noticeable. Nice.

He retested with Fire and Energy, and got the same results. Each of them was limited to protecting against a single magical type, but it was better than nothing.

What about Absorb Life? A quiver fluttered in his chest. Could that replace Heal, at least in combat? He tried various approaches to crafting a life-steal effect, but none worked. The Absorb effect, it seemed, was purely defensive.

Ted sighed. It had been worth a try. Still, he could make Projectile versions of it to stop enemies from healing themselves, and level the playing field that way.

Speaking of healing, could Life/Self/Repair work? Ted dug deeper into the Repair and Heal aspects and confirmed his fears. As best he could tell, both used what looked suspiciously like a pointer to select either the durability or HP attributes to restore.

Adjusting the Repair effect to restore HP worked, in so far as it created a new Heal effect that he couldn’t cast. Typical. A spell to restore other damaged attributes might be achievable, but this wasn’t going to allow him to backdoor cast Heal again.

He paused. It wouldn’t let him heal HP, but what about MP? Or stamina? He focused on the spell effects, turning them over in his mind and comparing them. The overly-complicated references to durability and HP made no sense. There had to be a pattern.

His shoulders slumped. Or maybe not. They likely were memory pointers of some kind, randomized for security reasons. With that level of complexity, trial and error wasn’t an option. Unless he found other spells affecting MP or stamina, this was a dead end.

Satisfied with his progress, Ted crafted several versions of the Absorb and Armor spells and then headed out.

At the top of the spiral staircase, a dwarven sergeant saluted him. “All done, sir?”

“All yours.”

The sergeant shouted in Dwarvish and a column of soldiers resumed delivering supplies down the staircase. Ted bowed his head and strolled past them.

The dawn light of the cavern illuminated the host of soldiers gathered in the square beneath the keep. A hundred, maybe? Around half were huddled around five sparring rings, while the rest gathered and checked supplies.

Ted headed for the sparring rings, cradling his left arm to his chest. Deflect required practical testing, and the more practice he could get at fighting one-handed, the better.

His heart raced merely watching the soldiers spar. They held nothing back, swinging their axes and swords with reckless abandon. The rate they were going, they were liable to kill each other long before they reached the enemy.

A clang rang out. A direct hit! The axe struck the soldier’s neck at full speed.

Ted’s breath caught. With that much force, it had to be a kill.

The hit soldier rubbed the back of his neck and muttered something in Dwarvish. His opponent clapped him on the back and said something back. They both laughed and strolled together toward Zelig.

Ted breathed again. Training weapons. He laughed to himself. Of course. One of the perks of damage being so stat-driven.

Zelig cast a minor Heal upon the defeated soldier and turned to Ted with a smile. “Good to see you again! You look…”

“… like shit?” Ted smirked through the pain. “I’ve been better.”

He explained what had happened. Zelig didn’t seem bothered by it, more excited at the prospect of a new range of spells. When the conversation turned to the battle, he expressed his gratitude for Ted’s part in saving Valbort and promised to do all he could for Ted, and for the Great Forest.

“Really?”

“Anything. What do you need?”

Ted lifted his left hand to scratch his head, and sighed. “Besides a new hand?”

“Anything within my power.”

“Practice.” Ted clenched his remaining fist. “I need practice.”

Zelig gestured to his stump. “Will you be okay to…”

A piercing glare cut that off before it could go any further. “I’ll do what needs to be done.”

“Spoken like a true ranger. Alright, grab a training sword and I’ll find you a partner. We don’t get to spar with non-dwarves often enough.”

Ted walked along the rack of weapons. Spears, shields, swords, axes, polearms… So many weapon types. Did they practice with all of them? Or was it so they could train to fight against each of them?

Best to pick something familiar. He lifted a sword about the same length as his falchion, albeit straight. 3 damage, no crit chance, and definitely not a spell-sword. He considered taking it—after all, he’d easily be able to cast low-potency training spells with just verbal and mental components—but decided against it. In a real battle, he wouldn’t have that luxury.

He placed the sword back on the rack and prepared a few low potency attack spells, testing them against the stone floor.

Less than a minute later, Zelig returned. He led Ted into a ring, placing him opposite a heavily armored dwarf armed with a double-sided battleaxe bigger than she was, with a spike protruding from its top.

Ted reminded himself that it was a training weapon and it wouldn’t kill him. Didn’t do a damned thing to stop his heart hammering away, but it was good to know.

A sparring session. That was all. The bigger the axe, the easier it would be to Deflect.

They nodded to each other, and battle commenced.

Ted readied Deflect with his hand, barely getting it up before that huge axe swung at his head from the left.

He blocked the strike. Easier than he expected. Maybe this wasn’t so—

3 piercing damage received!

The spike on the end of the axe stabbed into his chest. How had she moved a weapon that large so damned quickly?

“Dead,” she said, a little too gleefully. “Again?”

Ted scowled. No way he was losing that easily. Time to stop holding back. “How much more damage does your actual axe do?”

“One hundred forty-four times, give or take.”

Shit. He really would have been dead. He crafted a suitably low potency Force/Aegis/Absorb spell and gritted his teeth. “Again.”

They shared another nod.

Ted began mentally casting Absorb and shifted his Deflect to the left side as she lunged in with her axe.

He narrowly blocked the first strike, and only just stepped back out of the way of her second strike.

Too close for comfort. He readied another Deflect and finalized the Absorb spell in his mind.

“Minir!” A force barrier rippled around him. Kind of cheating, given how easy such a weak spell was to cast, but hey—in an actual fight, he could have pre-buffed.

She lunged, swinging again from the left. So predictable. His deflection was already moving to intercept.

Her axe twirled and struck at his right side.

0 slashing damage received (2 absorbed)!

A brief pause. Ted smirked. It had actually worked!

3 bashing damage received (2 absorbed)!

The impact of her arm on his chest barely registered. He gathered mana for a low potency Blasttouch, and metal pressed against his calf.

Why would—

She swept out his leg and hurled him to the ground.

10 bashing damage received!

Her grip cushioned his fall. She pinned his arm behind his back and clamped her hand over his mouth. “No more spells for you.”

Adrenaline pounded through his veins. Teleport wouldn’t work here, and he couldn’t see her to cast a projectile.

She twisted his arm, sending pain shooting up through it. “Tap twice with your legs to yield.”

Not yet.

Telepathy. That was the answer. Excitement tingled in his chest. He held her in his thoughts and mentally cast a weak Telepathy/Target/Hold.

Very low potency. He wouldn’t have long, if it worked at all.

The spell went off. He spun around and her grip faltered. He turned the tables, pinning her down instead.

She laughed and easily broke free. Seizing his arm in her iron grip, she threw him back to the ground, locked him down, and tapped his head against the ground.

5 bashing damage received!

11 bashing damage received!

Ted’s chest tightened. If she’d wanted to, she could have hit a whole lot harder than that. He tapped his foot twice against the ground.

The pressure on his arm released. She jumped up and pulled him from the ground. “Not bad, rookie.”

Even with low stakes tilting the deck in favor of magic, he’d still lost. Ted forced out a smile. “Thanks?”

She clapped him on the back, and another soldier took her place, armed with a sword and shield.

Ted sparred again and again, cycling out only long enough to regain his stamina. Each bout, he got better at using Deflect. He gained a level in Battlemage and put it in Mighty Barrier, increasing the radius and potency of the shield by 20%.

After a few fights, while awaiting a heal, Ted stared disbelievingly at the long, winding line of soldiers queued up for his sparring ring. “Are they all really waiting to spar with me?”

“I told you,” Zelig said, “we don’t get to spar with non-dwarves nearly enough. Especially not with such… a unique fighting style. Mind teaching me some of those new spells?”

Ted took a deep breath and nodded. The better prepared the dwarves, the better the wood elves’ chances. He alternated sparring and teaching magic, praying for the moment they’d finally leave for the Great Forest.

After what felt like days but couldn’t have been more than an hour or two, Luther’s voice bellowed from above. Luther, Ardic, and Frieda stood side by side outside the keep, overlooking the square with that ridiculous air of nobility.

Pockets of silence slowly spread through the soldiers. Luther scowled and bellowed in Dwarvish again.

The square settled down to occasional hushed whispers. Ted’s hairs stood on end, tingling with the sense of anticipation. The other soldiers hadn’t been expecting this.

Ardic stepped forward, cleared his throat, and made a speech in Dwarvish. Whatever he was saying, he had the soldiers hanging on his every word.

He paused. A smile lit up his face. He gestured to Frieda and made an announcement ending with her name.

Stunned silence, followed by a roar of applause. What the hell was going on? Ted turned to Zelig and awaited an explanation.

“Ardic’s personally leading the expedition,” Zelig said, “and he named Frieda his heir!”

Huh. Ted frowned. Had he missed something about dwarven society? “But she’s a commoner? Can he do that?”

“Technically, yes, but…” Zelig’s expression soured. He shuffled closer and whispered, “the heads of the noble houses would never have allowed it.”

Ted’s stomach churned at the memory of bloody body parts lining the council room chambers. “They were the generals?”

Zelig nodded somberly.

So much death. Ted closed his eyes and sighed. “Valbort will be in good hands, at least.”

“It shall.”

A Message from Luther pressed against Ted’s consciousness. Come to the portal room at once.

Ted wished Zelig good luck and headed toward the keep. All around, the soldiers were forming up into squads and preparing to move. Ted’s heart pounded. This was it. They were really coming to the Great Forest’s aid.

Would Cara still be alive when they got there?

He swallowed and passed through the portal lobby, between packs of supplies ready to go. Weapons, armor, food—everything an army might need. In the portal room beyond, Luther, Ardic, and the lord’s bodyguards were already waiting.

All eyes focused on Ted. He smiled awkwardly. This wouldn’t be a good time to make a fool of himself.

“Good,” Ardic said. “You’re here. We’re ready for you to connect the portals.”

Ted froze. Right. He was the only one who knew the code to the wood elven portal. His chest tightened. The sheer amount of power involved was staggering. If he got it wrong…

Luther clapped him on the back. “Don’t worry, lad, it’s simple enough. I’ll walk you through it.”