We got a mansion! Tresk shouted into Theo’s mind.

Theo stood on the third floor of the town hall, looking down at Fenian on the first floor. The Elf was grumpy that he couldn’t ascend the stairs to speak with Alise, and the administrator refused to go downstairs. She was still mad at the alchemist for upgrading the building without warning the inhabitants. She’d fallen over, hitting her head and receiving a grievous injury.

“Seriously, Theo. That’s careless.”

“I follow my whims,” Theo said with a half-hearted shrug. “Look, you’re fine. Right?”

“Physically? Yes. Emotionally? No.”

“Alright. I’m sorry,” Theo said, locking his gaze onto the administrator’s.

He was serious about his apology, too. Not just something he wanted to say to get her to stop complaining. A reckless streak had entered the alchemist’s life, and he didn’t know if it was for the better. Alise kept her eyes locked for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

“You’re forgiven. For now. But only because these upgrades are good.”

“Excellent. Now, I need a servant,” Theo said.

Alise gave him a flat look. “Why?”

“I have a manor. I need someone to clean it.”

“No, you don’t. You have [Cleansing Scrub]. Just dump it on everything.”

Theo beckoned for the administrator to follow him, leading her into a meeting room. Fenian’s idea to have a maid or butler was interesting, but that’s not what the alchemist wanted. Alise had stopped being his personal assistant long ago, going off to do bigger things for the alliance. He was left without someone to run his mundane errands. While he could live without an assistant, he wanted one. Why shouldn’t he have one?

“I miss my assistant.” Theo placed a comforting hand on Alise’s shoulder. He saw her sag slightly at the touch, and recognized the meaning. She was stressed from her duties. “I think you need an assistant, too.”

“I have too many.” Alise let out a heavy sigh, then her eyes went glassy. “No, Gael is ready to take over some of my workload. That allows me to transition to matters of the nation. Alright, any preference?”

“The oldest, ugliest man you can find,” Theo said. “Actually, a local Half-Ogre or Marshling would be great.”

“Right. I have a few people requesting transfers from state-run ventures. I’ll interview them.”

Theo chatted with Alise for a while. He wanted to make sure she was doing well, and not just posturing for his sake. After some quizzing, the alchemist decided Gael was indeed ready to take on more responsibilities. He’d share power with Gwyn as they had planned, allowing the army of junior administrators to take over the little things. While things moved fast in Broken Tusk, some stuff just took longer.

“Did you find one?” Fenian asked. “How big are her—”

“Alright!” Theo shouted. “That’s it. I’m building a golem to be my administrator.”

“I’m sure you could shape a golem to the form of my choosing.”

Theo bent down, pressing a finger into Fenian’s chest. “I’m gonna make it look just like you.”

“Oh, my,” Fenian said, fanning himself. “Even better.”

Theo let out an exasperated breath, storming out of the town hall. That was the only way he could hide the smile on his face as he left. But the Elf was close behind, pushing his artifice-powered wheelchair into action. While Fenian was high-energy, his help was valuable. He was a good friend, and the alchemist wouldn’t trade that for anything. Instead of pushing him away, he led him back to the Newt and Demon to share his wisdom with Salire.

The young shopkeeper was ecstatic to soak in his wisdom. Theo was free to work on his alchemy.

There were no new orders at the shop. People were buying the excess potions he made, and Theo couldn’t be bothered to care. Instead, he spent the midday hours working on [Freeze Solution] for the many air conditioners in town. While his stock was holding strong in the shop, the days were only getting hotter. The alchemist toiled away until a knock came from his door. Salire poked her head in.

“You have a visitor. Alran Cherman.”

“Oh. Really? Send him up.”

Theo put down the flask he was working on, placing his hand on his hip as he waited. His eyes dragged over the room, locking on the statue of Drogramath. The shrine was still accepting offerings, but his alignment hadn’t increased. Just as an idea was forming, the pudgy form of Alran entered the room. A grin painted the man’s face.

“Spymaster Cherman,” Theo said, crossing the room to shake his hand.

“Archduke,” Alran said with a chuckle. ”Apologies for the unannounced visit.”

“Ah,” Theo said, looking around his lab. It was messy. It smelled like burned rubber and freshly dug earth. “Let’s move to my manor to discuss matters.”

Alran made a sound as though he were pleasantly surprised. As they departed the Newt and Demon, Fenian tagged along. Salire was disappointed, but the Elf promised to come back and instruct her more on her duties as a merchant. The group rested in the massive first-floor sitting room, the fire dead in the fireplace.

“Libations are in order,” Fenian said, withdrawing a bottle of something from his inventory. He then brought forth wine glasses, setting them on the wide table and pouring a glass for everyone. “To the alliance. And spies.”

Theo toasted to that, taking a sip of the tart drink. It wasn’t good, but he put on a brave face.

“An excellent vintage, Feintleaf,” Alran said, shifting his weight to be more comfortable on the couch. “Of course this isn’t a social visit. I wanted to speak face-to-face with you, Theo.”

“About what?”

“Things are moving faster than I expected,” Alran started, taking another sip of wine. “I’m free to spend my time spying, now that I don’t manage Rivers. So, here’s a few points. Veosta has been reinforced by Tarantham. Qavell is holding on somehow. Partopour, Bantein, and the Khahari are holding back. They’re waiting to see who rises from the ashes.”

“Interesting turns of events everywhere,” Fenian said, swirling the wine in his glass. “I assume Gronro is holding strong.”

“They are. But the undead aren’t abating. They’re growing stronger by the day, if the reports are accurate. My spy in Qavell says it’s bad. They’ve lost a wall,” Alran said.

“But not their leader.” Theo nodded. They needed to cut the head off the snake, otherwise this would go on forever. “How strong is King Karasan?”

“He’s powerful enough to ascend,” Alran said.

Fenian smiled, tipping his glass to the spymaster. “He’s level 152.”

“I can’t figure out why he hasn’t ascended.” Alran’s eyes were now locked on Fenian. The spymaster didn’t like being uninformed.

“King Karasan must remain on the mortal plane. If he gives up his mortal body, he loses possession of an artifact.”

“An artifact you want,” Theo said.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

“One I need. He’s kept the artifact in a dormant state, aligning himself with the traitor gods. If he activates it, he’ll assume a new role. And he clawed his way to the top with the Kingdom of Qavell. He won’t give that up.”

Alran nodded. “My spy reported your battle with the king. Seems like you were aiming for the exterior wall.”

“That was the only way to get him to flee. I had him cornered in Balkor’s dead realm when he tricked me. The bastard.” Fenian let out a heavy sigh before draining his glass. He poured himself another. “But I have a backup plan.”

“Of course you do.” Theo smiled at that. Fenian was prepared for everything. “How does this news affect us?”

Alran shrugged. “Not much. We have our port to the world while Qavell does not. They’ll starve out eventually. I suspect they’ll reach out soon enough.”

Theo tapped his foot. He fell into thought, stretching his mind to imagine the ways they’d do that. The administrators in the kingdom could no longer contact them through the [Kingdom Core]. There might be a way to communicate between nations, but that felt wrong. What the alchemist wanted to do was lead an attack on Qavell, leveling it before they fought off the undead. Perhaps that was too grim, even for the old version of himself.

“How would they do that, Fenian?”

“A messenger, perhaps.”

“Perhaps or certainly? How would they get here?”

“Maybe an airship,” Alran said, holding his glass out for a refill. “But my agents in Broken Tusk said you’re preparing for that.”

Theo nodded. He would have been disappointed if Alran wasn’t spying on him. That’s exactly what he would do in this situation. “What’s the correct response if I spot an airship approaching?”

“Make no mistake, Theo,” Fenian said, gesturing with his one good hand. “You shoot it down. If you see Qavell’s colors flying on an airship, you blast it out of the sky.”

That was already his plan.

“Oh!” Alran said, leaning forward in his seat. “Speaking of aggressive action. Some Ogre Warlord has taken an interest in the alliance. I almost forgot because my Ogre spy is an idiot, but they’re coming to offer help.”

Fenian perked up. “Really? Well, that’s not part of the plan.”

“Why?” Theo asked.

“Slagrot doesn’t enjoy sending emissaries.” Fenian drank more of his wine. “They’re happier sending war parties. That should make for an interesting conversation.”

If Half-Ogres were aggressive, Theo couldn’t imagine how bad the full-blooded Ogres would be. But if Alran said they were coming for peaceful purposes, he wouldn’t turn them down. On that line of thought, things were going far better than he’d expected. The international community didn’t care that the Southlands Alliance were traitors. That painted Qavell in a far worse light than he first thought.

The group shifted to talking about theories, rather than fact. Alran was happy with his replacement in Rivers, but wouldn’t speak much of them. Fenian was all mysterious about everything, the way he always was. During their drinking and joking, Tresk and Alex arrived to enjoy the new manor. They ran around honking—both of them—while they checked out every single room in the place.

“I don’t like the tavern,” Alran said, looking around the interior of the manor. “Would you mind if I stayed here tonight?”

“Yeah, me too,” Fenian said.

“I don’t care. Maybe we could get Xam to cater dinner. I have a big dining room, after all.”

For the first time in a while, Theo wasn’t tempted to leave the sofa. The [Endless Comfort] upgrade made the seat impossibly soft. He felt himself melting into it, washing away his desire to leave. Even when a knock came at the door, he didn’t want to stand up. Fenian rolled himself over, letting whoever it was in.

“Theo! You will not believe this!” Fenian shouted. That got him out of his seat and over to the door.

Standing at the door was a young Half-Ogre woman. Theo remembered seeing her in town, and cross-referenced his memory to find what she did for a living. She was one of the few floating people in town who went between jobs. Sarisa Fletcher was the height of most Half-Ogres. A good two feet taller than the Humans, and a head taller than the Elves. Well-built for manual labor, she now wore different clothes than those meant for laboring. A well-fitted black long-sleeve shirt with a bow near the neck, and a white ankle-length skirt. Pale ochre skin, hazel eyes, and raven black hair. The hallmarks of a local Broken Tusker.

But she was pretty, and Fenian was drooling.

Sarisa bowed low, doubling herself over. “Sarisa Fletcher. Alise sent me because of my core. She said that you have a job for me.”

Alise had conspired with Fenian. Theo was certain that was the only way the administrator would send someone like her. The situation would boil over if he didn’t act fast.

Theo let out a long breath. “Fenian, go to your room.”

“I don’t have a room.”

“Find one.”

“I don’t want to.”

Theo glared at the Elf. “Then behave. I need to get Sarisa up to speed. Come, let’s sit.”

Sarisa finally stopped bowing. She followed Theo to the sitting area, finding a comfortable place to rest. The alchemist didn’t know what to think about a Half-Ogre that acted so proper. He couldn’t tell if she was trying to fit into her new role as a ‘maid’ or if that’s the way she was. The alchemist made introductions to everyone seated at the table, drawing up a contract specifically for his new assistant.

“If you’re going to be around us, you’re going to hear stuff we don’t want repeated,” Theo said. She signed the restrictive contract without hesitation.

“I understand.”

“I wanted an old man because Fenian is a hound dog. Not sure how he hasn’t banged his way through half the town.”

“How are you sure I haven’t?”

“Mister Feintleaf’s charms never worked on me,” Sarisa said, smiling. The tusks protruding from her bottom lip were smaller than the average Half-Ogre. It gave her a more Human-like appearance.

“That hurts.”

Theo went over Sarisa’s duties. He mostly needed her to run between various places and deliver information. The alchemist often found himself without the time to run around town, ordering people around. That left him little time to do the things he needed to do for the town and his alchemy. He’d been neglecting the advancement of his mage core for that very reason, leaving him itching for someone like her.

“Is she my servant as well?” Tresk said, appearing from nowhere. Alex came honking down the stairs.

“She’s an assistant. No, you can hire your own. You’re rich.”

“Bah!”

“We were just talking about dinner,” Alran said, smiling at Sarisa.

“I’m on it,” she said, rising and bowing before departing.

No one had to tell her to head off to Xam’s to get dinner. She departed without another word, heading north to cater their food for the night. Everyone gathered in Theo’s manor shared their thoughts about the woman. She was far too tame for a Broken Tusker, something Tresk was convinced would break in time. Most people from the town were high-strung. The alchemist’s observations of his people showed that to be true in every case.

People broke off into their own conversations after a while. Theo was shocked to see Tresk partake in some of it. She had no desire to run off and adventure now that they had the manor. That sent him out back to inspect the gardens. The black metal gate spanned an area twice as large as the house. While there were trees growing, and strangely shaped bushes, there was no fruit to be found. When he arrived at a small pond, he paused. Alex waddled behind him, jumping into the water without hesitation.

I like this, she said.

“I think I’ve been working too hard, Alex,” Theo said, sitting by the pond. “Might be time to take it easy for a while.”

Is that an option?

“It might be. We have workers now. People who are aligned with my mission.”

What is your mission?

Theo had to think about that for a long time before responding. Alex was happy to splash in the pond while he thought, honking and diving in the shallow water. His mission had been to make things better, but there were roadblocks. Things that threw themselves in his path. But what he said was true. Broken Tusk had people now. Competent people who could help run not only a town but a growing nation.

Sure, that path was paved with blood and stone. People had died. A nation had crumbled, even if Theo didn’t have a direct hand in that. But things were better for it.

“To keep the citizens of the Southlands Alliance safe. To bring order to this world.”

You want to rule the world?

“Not like that, Alex. I want to set an example so people can see what compassion is all about. It doesn’t mean being weak. It means being strong.”

How whimsical.

“How do you even know that word?”

Because I have a big brain.

Theo reached out, stroking Alex’s slender neck. “Yeah, you’ve got a huge brain.”

He spent a good amount of time in the garden. The others came to see it, and the manor had more visitors than Theo cared to count. By dinnertime, the party intending to dine had grown. Sarisa arrived with a team of people from the Marsh Wolf Tavern to lay out the food on the massive dining room table. She lit lamps, set the table, and stood nearby.

Theo, Tresk, Alex, Fenian, Alran, Perg, Azrug, and Miana all sat at the table. The alchemist was at the head position, flanked by his new assistant. Xam had prepared Karatan steaks that night, something that must have been imported for Partopour. Tresk kicked an air conditioner to life in the room’s corner, cooling the sweltering interior as the group dined.

“Alise picked me for a reason,” Sarisa said, keeping her voice low enough to go unnoticed by the others at the table.

“Why is that?” Theo asked, cutting a chunk off his steak and placing it in his mouth. As always, the rare meal was welcomed.

“I have a [Maid’s Core]. That’s the one I got when I came of age,” Sarisa said. Theo turned to look at her peerless gaze. He noticed the constant searching in her eyes. “I also have a [Baelthar Guardian’s Core].”

“A defensive class?” Theo asked. The others around the table chatted, enjoying the new place to eat.

Sarisa smiled, hand still tucked neatly behind her back. She shifted her stance, the head of a short spear becoming visible.

Theo turned back to the table, stifling a laugh. “Guess I have a bodyguard, too.”