A fire crackled in the wizard’s study. Zarali knelt near Xol’sa, who was seated in a comfortable armchair. He nursed a cup of hot tea as the priestess ran the purple energy of Drogramath over his head. Errant embers from that power filled the air, crowding the stifling heat with their forms. Theo watched with concern, but said nothing. Her healing powers were minor, but they could stitch together more than the alchemist’s healing potions. Wounds of the mind.

There were many advantages to attempting to jump through the realms for the wizard. His highest-level class was based on the concept, and his people weren’t from the mortal plane. Logically, he should have been able to peer into Theo’s private realm. Especially with the owner of that domain’s permission. Instead, he was attacked. Only his familiarity with such magic saw him through without lifelong injuries.

“I’ve never heard of a mortal being attacked with a [Mind Hunt] spell,” Zarali said, pressing a bubble of purple flames into the Elf’s head. He winced.

“So, he’s fine. Right?” Theo asked.

Zarali shot him a look then jerked her head. “Stay here. I need to talk to our impetuous Archduke.”

“Take your time,” Xol’sa said, reclining in his chair.

The pair descended to the first floor of the tower, standing near the shimmering portal. Zarali took a deep breath, muttering words of comfort to herself. There was a tension in the air that only belonged to lovers in peril. Only now did Theo realize what a bad idea it was to allow Xol’sa to spy on his journey.

“I’ll explain this so your mushy brain can understand,” Zarali said. “A god attacked his soul. Directly. If they’d done so from their plane, he would have been fine.”

“But he was half-way into the other realms,” Theo said. “He said he was just going to look. I didn’t expect him to follow me.”

The priestess rested a hand on Theo’s shoulder and managed a weak smile. “Then you have a lot to learn about your wizard. About the way he thinks, and what he’s willing to do to learn something new.”

“Alright. I understand. But did he learn anything?”

“I imagine he learned a lot,” Zarali said. “You’re not meant to travel between realms as a mortal. He’s been researching how Fenian does it, and has concluded that the Bridge is an exception.”

Theo tapped his foot. “I figured as much. Uz’Xulven had a message for me from Drogramath.”

“What did our master say?”

“She wouldn’t give it to me.”

Zarali’s gaze drifted to Theo’s constantly tapping foot. She cleared her throat and he stopped. “From what Drogramath shares with me, Theo… It’s bad. Zagmon and Fan’glir are dead. But… Damn, I don’t even want to consider what the other implications are. When Khahar ascended, he didn’t waste a single moment. He went on the offensive. A murderous rampage.”

“So the realms are dangerous.”

“The high realms are. The lower realms should be fine. Your realm. That’s strange to say, isn’t it? You’re standing right here. You’re not a god—what does that mean?”

“I won’t even think about that problem. We have a bigger one. Is Xol’sa going to be alright?”

“There’s no potion you can brew that can cure him,” Zarali said.

Theo doubted that with all his beings. Even his cores rose to scream their objections. Zarali’s biggest blind spot was her long-dead brother. Belgar was many things, but a genius of potioncraft wasn’t one of them. The alchemist didn’t want to trample on the man’s grave, but the evidence was clear. He had a narrow focus, and lacked all the advantages he had. If there was a potion that could help Xol’sa, Theo would find it.

“But there is something,” Theo said.

“Care to make friends with Glanthier?” Zarali asked, chuckling. “Perhaps you could beg for a miracle.”

“I’m happy to beg,” Theo said, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Elf healer. Please help.”

Zarali slapped him on the back of the head. A little too hard. But a grin spread across her face. “You’re a clown, brother.”

“I’ll tell you what I am. I’m determined. Tenacious. No citizen of mine is going to be wounded forever. Well, what happens to him? Is he in pain?”

“Some amount of pain. He’ll experience decreased mana, health, and stamina regeneration for a time. I’m basing this conclusion on a similar spell, but it could be different,” Zarali said.

“Give me an idea of the potential cure,” Theo said.

“You cannot heal him, Theo.”

“Please.”

“Anything that mends a soul should help. Priests that belong to a healing-based god should have the spell at an early level,” Zarali said.

“I only know of Glanthier,” Theo said.

“Glanthier from the Elven part of the Pantheon and Udok from the Dwarven one,” Zarali said. “There’s also Spit from the Ogre pantheon. But that’s unreliable. Better than nothing, though.”

“Spit?” Theo asked.

“Specifically, he’s Spit, Ogre Patron of Curing Things Most of the Time,” Zarali said, letting out a frustrated sigh. “Yes, that’s his full title. You’re meant to say it every time. I didn’t make up the rules.”

“Alright,” Theo said, turning to face the portal. “Put in a request at my lab if you need anything, alright? Maybe I can brew something for his pain. Otherwise, we can load him up with potions until I cure him.”

“Such confidence. Suitable for an Archduke,” Zarali said, giggling.

Theo passed through the portal before she could say anymore. An older version of himself would have been disturbed to see a close friend injured. But those feelings weren’t useful for helping people. As he walked north, toward the district Tresk had named Stabby Groves, he forced his will on the [Tero’gal Dreampassage] ability. But that was an absolute within the system. He couldn't force it to reduce its cooldown. He walked past the massive neighborhood north of Xam’s tavern, and withdrew the wooden box from his inventory.

“Coincidence?” he asked, shaking his head. “Maybe.”

But those plants would take great effort to grow. A corner in one greenhouse, maybe. One seed at a time. That hardly solved the problem now, but the alchemist sought to split his efforts on the problem. But first, it was time to heal a wounded adventurer.

“Hey there, Theo!” Ral said.

The bald headed human rose from a chair, resting near the front of his home. It was nestled among the other homes belonging to adventurers in town. When the man stood, he stumbled, leaning on a shaped piece of wood to make up for his missing left leg. It had been torn off near the knee, but hardly seemed to diminish the man’s spirits.

“Where are your brothers?”

“Oh, you know. Off adventuring while I’m stuck hopping around,” Ral said, managing a wry chuckle. “Feels like yesterday I was out there with them. Testing your silly potions.”

Theo nodded, reining in his emotions. Instead, he withdrew the [Regenerative Potion] from his inventory and held it out.

“Booze?”

“A potion,” Theo said. “A salve, really. Ignore the system text. Don’t drink it. You might grow an extra spleen or something.”

“What’s it do?”

Theo pointed at the man’s leg. “Restores your leg. Simple as that.”

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

“No,” Ral said, shaking his head. His brow knit tightly. “Fancy Demon priestess said that was impossible. So did that other guy.”

Theo forced the potion into the man’s hand. “Being a Broken Tusker means ignoring what people say is possible. But, you’re the first person who is going to use it.”

“How does it work?”

The potion seemed similar enough to one he’d brewed in the past. His old example only restored lost digits, not entire limbs. Theo explained that to the adventurer, detailing the need to apply this one multiple times a day. When asked, the alchemist agreed to supervise the first application. They entered the man’s house and positioned Ral on the bed for easy use. The stump that was left was clean with well-knitted flesh. That was the power of the healing potions.

“How am I going to get it out of here,” Ral asked, tipping the potion upside-down. The gel inside didn’t move.

Theo snatched a spoon from the side-table and fished a pea-sized quantity out. “Ready?”

“What’s there to be ready for?” Ral asked.

The moment Theo pressed the spoon to the man’s stump, he shouted in pain. In an instant, he was covered in a sheen of sweat. Arching his back, Ral screamed loud enough to attract other citizens to the house. Zan’kir entered the room with blades drawn, relaxing once he spotted the alchemist.

“Help me hold him down,” Theo said, unable to manage the writhing man. Zan’kir came over, applying his significant strength to the effort. But even after Ral calmed down, the Khahari man wouldn’t make eye contact. He turned around and left the building. “So much for water under the bridge.”

Ral did not regain consciousness. Theo sent a town-wide message, ordering his brothers to return to their home. When they did, they seemed incredibly concerned. Until they saw the potion Theo had brought. The pair agreed to look over their brother, allowing the alchemist to leave. What he left behind was a slightly longer leg on one of the town’s adventurers. That counted for something, didn’t it?

Theo made his way south, back toward his lab. When he passed by the blacksmith, the gruff voice of a Dwarf called out to him. “Hey! I got your order!”

The alchemist spun, spotting Thim waving like an idiot. The Dwarf had an expression of pure joy on his face, grinning widely. He saw what he was so excited about. Not the 3 stills Theo had ordered, but 5 impressive pieces of blacksmithing and artificer work. They were made of the Drogramathi Iron, and were all complete with [Custom Drogramathi Iron Bubble Plates], and [Custom Drogramathi Iron Vapor Pressurizers]. He came over to run his hands over the smooth metal, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Throk gave you a hand?” Theo asked.

“More than a hand,” Thim said, laughing. “Did all the artificer work on these. Cursed the whole time, but what do you think?”

Theo inspected one example, shaking his head yet again when he read the description.

[Custom Drogramathi Iron Artifice Still]

[Alchemy Equipment]

Epic

Created By: Thimamuri and Throk

A 500 unit capacity Drogramathi Iron still with attached advanced condenser and internal heating element. The advanced condenser allows for a more efficient cooling of essences, decreasing the time needed to distill.The internal heating element provides an even heating of the still, preventing burning.

Effects:

Distillation time reduced.

Occasionally produces more essence.

Reduces the chance of producing low quality essence.

Attachments:

[Custom Drogramathi Iron Bubble Plate]

[Custom Drogramathi Iron Vapor Pressurizer]

While it lacked enchantments, this was still a work of art. Theo inspected each one, finding the details beyond anything he expected. Throk was extremely good at blacksmithing, but Thim was the genius in that realm. With the pair coming together, they had created a still worthy of the alchemist’s art.

“How much do I owe you?” Theo asked.

“No idea. You gotta talk to the boss for that,” Thim said, turning and leaving without another word.

Theo drew the stills into his inventory, each action creating a silly popping sound. Then he turned, looking at Throk’s artificer building and hesitated. He drew in a deep breath, queueing some jokes up in his mind before heading over. The Marshling was working inside, although ‘working’ was generous. With a heavy iron bar in one hand, and a rude gesture in the other, he was bashing an artifice to pieces.

“Bad time?” Theo asked.

Throk turned, glaring.

“Just trying to settle up on what I owe you for the stills.”

“All the gold in your inventory,” Throk said. He rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. Labor, I guess. It’s your metal. Your fancy artifice workings from that dead guardian.”

Theo shrugged, approaching the wreckage. “What’s the issue?”

“The viscosity of your damn potion. I think,” Throk said. “No, don’t get your pants in a bunch over me. This is part of the process.”

Theo narrowed his eyes, looking at the ruined pile of metal. “I have a fun question that might help get your mind off of it.”

“Alright,” Throk said, raising the bar one last time to smash his creation. “Let’s hear it.”

“Think you can make something that can fly?” Theo asked.

“Gods, Theo. I don’t have the time to—”

“I’m not telling you to make it. I’m asking if you know if something like that could work.”

“Well, you gotta be specific about stuff like that. Alright? Can’t just come hobbling in here all like ‘Oh, I’m the fancy Archduke I’m going to make a flying machine.’’”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“You do. But, yeah. I’ve read about… Hold on, I’ve got a book here in my pile.”

Throk crossed the room, digging through a pile of scraps. Near the bottom was a leather-bound book. He cracked it open to a page with diagrams for a flying ship. It looked like a normal sailing ship, but with many artifice attachments to the side. Instead of a mast, it had an attachment that looked like an engine. The design didn’t leave him impressed.

“While flying artifice vessels are common enough, they have quite a few weaknesses. You’ll see them in military applications, but only if there’s a mage onboard who can counter-spell powerful magic. See, it’s easy to ruin artifice work with magic.”

“So, you’d need powerful wards to fly something like this?” Theo asked.

“Oh, no. I know that look in your eye, alchemist. You want to waste your time going down another expensive road, that’s on you.”

“Look, I’m not saying you need to work on this today. Just keep it in mind. Alright?” Theo asked.

“Why? Are you planning on flying around your little kingdom?”

“I’m planning to dump a million units of [Hallow Ground Potion] on the undead.”

“Oh. Yeah, that’ll do it. Alright. I’ll look at the problem. But no guarantees.”

“Hey. You’re actually using Thim, now. Maybe that’ll free up some time.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. You’re picking on the old Marshling today.”

Theo stood awkwardly for a few moments. “So, how much do I owe you?’

Theo left the artificer’s workshop a few gold lighter. Gold was important for expansion, and feeding the nation’s hungry appetite, but time was the most valuable resource. A sense of unity had spread through Broken Tusk. Even the Elves seemed interested in seeing the new nation prosper, although perhaps it was time for a meeting with the leader of House Wavecrest. With his time freed by pressing matters, the alchemist assessed his golems through the network, approaching his greenhouses.

The [Lesser Plant Golems] had done well to maintain the reagent-bearing plants, keeping them alive and happy. They could even promote the cultivation of the plants, selecting those with the highest percentage and propagating them onward. Unlike the [Lesser Mud Golems], they had an affinity for the work. The current layout of the greenhouses leaned heavily to [Spiny Swamp Thistle] production. [Mage’s Bane] also had its own greenhouse, although Theo left a corner free for experiments. Then, the others were split between the various attribute-enhancement reagents.

Withdrawing a vial of seeds from Khahar’s wooden box, his eyes lingering on the note left behind. Theo found a corner in one greenhouse and withdrew 2 seeds from the 10 within. Before shoving them into the magically enchanted earth, he inspected the item.

[Fairy Plum Seed]

[Spirit Seed]

Mythic

Grows a small bush that produces Fairy Plums. Growth rate and production of fruit is extremely slow.

Without the [Grove Tender] ability, it would be impossible to manage the final plant. This was the next level of alchemy. Something others in the world could only hope to accomplish, even with the backing of a god. There were likely plants such as these in Tarantham, the continent the Elves called home, but nowhere near the Southlands Alliance. The alchemist placed 2 thumb-sized seeds into the ground, spacing them out, then buried them. A quick mental instruction to his [Lesser Plant Golems] roped them off as off-limits. He wouldn’t have his mythic seeds destroyed by over-eager golems.

While he was within the greenhouses, Theo went around and checked on his plants. Most had reached 200% cultivation, and were producing absurdly large fruit. His new [Grove Tender] ability would make that process even easier. Eventually, there would be another reagent worth growing. Checking on the mushrooms in his cave, he noted a similar circumstance.

After a brief chat with Salire, Theo made his way to the lab and placed 2 of his new stills down. He lacked enough tables, but his intention was only to do a large run of [Manashrooms] to power his golems. The mushrooms were easy to process, far easier than something like [Pozwa Horns] which required fine grinding. He crushed them with his hands, watching as blue juice flowed down his forearm. His eyes were drawn to the hole, still repairing, in his robes. That minor wound had healed almost instantly.

“Unlike Ral,” Theo said, topping the water off in one still. “Or Fenian. What kind of trouble are you in, friend?”

The internal [Flame Artifice] on his 2 stills clicked to life, and he activated the external one for the lab’s built in still. There were many buildings in town that could use an upgrade, including the town itself. Then there was the problem of upgrading his nation. The nation wouldn’t be tied to the level of each town, as that would have promoted upgrading towns in the Kingdom of Qavell. The nation’s progress was likely tied to the level of the capital.

There were many industries Theo owned in town. The butcher, mine, sawmill, weaver, harbor, and alchemy lab were all his to maintain and upgrade. He also had a stake in the stonecutter and quarry, but that was a minor investment that had already paid for itself. Ziz and his men were impossible to control, so it was best to leave them to their own.

Sitting near the slow boil of the stills in that stuff lab brought a sense of comfort to Theo. Things were more real on the mortal plane. The heat felt hotter, the bubbles were louder. Nothing was muted in his senses, allowing him to drink it all in. Even the system message flashing, informing him that his [Governance Core] hit 21 and his [Tara’hek Core] hit 22, wasn’t enough to break that calm. Even after the sheen of sweat covered his body.