To an outside observer, Miana Kell looked like a tiger whose pride had been wounded. Sharp claws removed and deadly teeth plucked from her mouth. She stood as a calm, patient person. To Theo, this was her natural state. The spiky parts of her personality were a coping mechanism, created to deal with the reality of being without cores. This woman, standing before him with her hands on her hips and a smile on her face, was the real Miana Kell.

“This is a wide tract of land for this operation,” Miana said.

“Maybe,” Theo said. “My plan is to incorporate most of this land, anyway.”

Theo gestured to the wall, which had centered the eastern gate along a path exiting town. That path led to the bridge which spanned the river, giving travelers access to the dirt road that ran north-south. From this point, Broken Tusk was visible atop a gentle rise, the farmer’s hill even more obvious. The sum of every life within his town was represented by plumes of smoke and the occasional shout of a voice.

“Well, I secured my core,” Miana said, producing the thing from her pocket.

“Are you afraid to slot it?” Theo asked.

“Theo… I didn’t have the interface until a few weeks ago,” Miana said.

Theo nodded. “You’re scared, which is understandable. You’ve lived without the system for so long, it’s going to be weird.”

“Which is why I’m waiting to put this thing in my chest,” Miana said, regarding the pulsing orb with a scornful expression.

Theo nodded, finding a decent spot to place the [Ranch Seed Core]. Unlike most seed core placements, this one came with its own interface. It allowed him to rotate the placement of the building, allowing him to position the long fence in whatever direction he wanted. He settled on the only logical placement, with the front of the building facing the river, and the large paddock ranging off to the west. The core took root, but the alchemist quickly realized he was fresh out of [Monster Cores].

Miana noticed the look on his face, swinging a rugged bag around and dropping it on the ground. [Monster Cores] rolled out onto the ground. “I’ve been holding onto these for a while.”

The pair shoved the cores into the seed until they sated the hungry thing. It took more than most, but not nearly as many as the Adventurer’s Guild. The roots shot from the ground, wrapping around themselves to form a small farmhouse. It was made in the style of Broken Tusk, with wide stones stacked and magically mortared. The roof was steeply sloped, with a brick chimney. Springing up from the ground next to the house was a massive barn made of fitted wooden slats and painted a tasteful red. Where the house’s roof was steep, this one was shallow, complete with a loft. The barn had an entrance on either side, the eastern side leading out into the open and the western leading into the massive paddock.

[Governance Core] received experience (2%).

[Governance Core] leveled up! Level 2.

[Theo Spencer] received experience (0.66%).

Theo dismissed the notification as soon as it came, turning his attention back to Miana and the ranch.

“I guess I live here now,” Miana said with a chuckle.

The house section of the ranch was larger than her current home, so Theo considered it an upgrade. The alchemist assigned Miana as the rancher before inspecting the building.

[Ranch]

Owners: Belgar (Theo Spencer)

Rancher: Miana Kell

Faction: [Broken Tusk]

Level: 1 (0%)

Rent Due: 7 days

Animals:

None

Expansions:

None

It was nothing special, but a start. The biggest thing missing was the animal, but that would come in time. Theo didn’t want to think about the transportation of the Karatan, and hoped there would be some magical means of conveyance to get them to his town.

“Well, it’s not much,” Theo said. “So, we need to come to an agreement on how you’ll get paid.”

Miana’s smile shifted, a painful expression washing over her face. “I thought we agreed. I was just going to live here and take care of the animals.”

“And starve to death while you’re at it,” Theo said, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll draw up a simple contract if you’re so insistent on being destitute. 10 percent of the market value on everything produced.”

“Theo, that’s too much.”

“I really don’t know if it is, Miana,” Theo said. “The products we make could sell for 5 copper for all I know. I’ll set a shorter renegotiation period on this contract just in case.”

Theo ignored whatever other protests she had, moving into his contracts screen and drawing something simple up. He didn’t want to spend much time on this, preferring to get back to his alchemy and plant experiments.

[Miana’s Ranch]

Contract

Miana Kell agrees to run Theo Spencer’s (Belgar’s) ranch. This includes all daily operations that are vital to the success of the ranch. Miana Kell will be paid 10% of the value of every item created, harvested, or gathered on the ranch. Theo Spencer (Belgar) will be responsible for maintenance, upkeep, and the purchasing of animals.

Terms:

Miana Kell will run the ranch to the best of her ability.

Theo Spencer (Belgar) agrees to pay Miana Kell 10% of the market value of all goods created, harvested, or gathered on the ranch.

Theo Spencer (Belgar) agrees to maintain the ranch and purchase all animals necessary for its operation.

Timeline:

Renew monthly.

“Wow. This looks so official,” Miana said with a nervous chuckle. “What happens if I don’t hold my end up?”

“I think magical beasts are sent to tear you limb from limb,” Theo said, grinning. “I have a feeling the punishment is up to the person creating the contract. So, in your case nothing should happen. This is just so we have our agreement set in stone.”

Miana shrugged, accepting the terms of the contract. She’d be a fool not to, even at 10% the ranch was likely to make a lot of money. It didn’t take a genius to understand that, despite what he said to her earlier. He could extrapolate the fact that things grew faster in the swamp. The alchemist could also afford to dump [Monster Cores] into the ranch, elevating it above a reasonable station. He could buy the best upgrades for the place, ensuring its success.

“So, figure out what you can do with that [Rancher’s Core],” Theo said. “We can upgrade it, if we need to.”

“Theo,” Miana said, pulling him into a tight hug. “Thanks.”

Theo patted her on the back. “Don’t worry about it.”

Theo left the ranch feeling good about himself. If he took the path that most people would have, the one where he shunned Miana for her initial attitude, he would have lost a valuable member of the town. Instead, his kindness and understanding transformed her into a productive member, someone determined to see the success of Broken Tusk through. He relayed the story to Tresk, who seemed excited. She was running the dungeon with Xol’sa today, which was surprising.

I didn’t know he was interested in delving that dungeon, Theo said.

He’s doing all these experiments, Tresk said. Really slowing down my pace.

Well, just give him space to do what he needs, Theo said.

I am! He just ate a random mushroom. That was disgusting, Tresk said.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

On a whim, the alchemist checked their shared inventory. He mostly didn’t concern himself with it, only using his own inventory and letting her have free reign of the Tara’hek inventory. It was filled with junk. Pieces of furniture, scrap metal, and several magical items that wouldn’t be useful for anyone.

He laughed, pushing aside those thoughts to make a mental plan for his alchemy. On the top of his priorities list was to create potions that would impress Fenian. That led him to the conclusion that he absolutely needed to figure out the second tier essence modifiers. Theo’s intuition told him it was only a matter of putting the modifiers into his pressure vessel under the correct conditions, but he’d been too busy until then.

Theo chatted with Azrug for a while. The shopkeeper produced a small pile of gold, perhaps 20 pieces in all. The alchemist collected what potions weren’t used for the siege and handed them over before helping him stock the shelves.

“No bombs, right?” Azrug said, letting out a low whistle. “Well, I can get by for a while on a thousand potions.”

“Plus all your junk,” Theo said, gesturing vaguely to the entire shop. “Where is that [Loremaster], anyway?”

“No clue,” Azrug said. “It’s hard to get word outside of Broken Tusk as it is. I asked a trader to pass along a message and I never heard back.”

“Well, keep doing what you’re doing,” Theo said.

“Yeah, I mean,” Azrug said, hoisting a crate from his inventory. “I got these from Fenian, so at least I can tidy up the shop.”

The shopkeeper set the [Dimensional Storage Crate] behind the counter before withdrawing five more identical ones.

“That’ll help with organization,” Theo said, nodding. While he wasn’t married to the idea of a clean shop, it would be nice to walk a straight path up to his lab. “So, this business model… Your plan is to take all profits from the shop and buy more stuff, right?”

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Azrug said. “I’m just going to buy a [Loremaster’s Core] at this rate.”

“Well, that depends on how fast you’re leveling,” Theo said.

“I’m almost level 6,” Azrug said.

Theo’s brow knit tightly, then relaxed. It made sense when he thought about it. Azrug was constantly buying and selling stuff, talking to traders to share information, and giving advice about the cost of items. The alchemist noticed a similar thing with his [Governance Core], although he’d been ignoring the constant pop-ups. As he thought about it, a trickle of governance experience came in.

[Governance Core] received experience (0.1%).

[Theo Spencer] received experience (0.033%).

It was the smallest amount of experience he’d seen so far, but it was constant. Any action he took in the town caused it to tick up, but something like planting the ranch’s seed core made a bigger difference.

“Things seem to slow down after level 10,” Theo said, recognizing the understatement of his words. His progress was glacial, compared to how fast he made it to 10. While his alchemy and herbalism cores were teetering on the edge of level 12, they were still a ways off.

Theo’s mind wandered and he excused himself after a moment, heading up to the lab intent on tending to his fermentations. With his stores dwindling, he was left with few options for modifiers to ferment. The one thing he always had in stock was [Moss Nettle], as he used it for his morning tea. With a shrug, he prepared 3 barrels to receive 200 units of the moss each. It wasn’t time for experimentation, so he kept the motes the same and withdrew the cultivated [Spiny Swamp Thistle Root] from his inventory.

Banu claimed the root would grow sprouts, eventually. Theo doubted it would do so within his inventory, and found a small corner of the lab to place the root. He withdrew a piece of parchment and wrote a note in the Low Qavelli script, warning Tresk against eating it. The Marshling had a habit of shoving anything she found into her mouth without regard to its edibility, or who it belonged to. Theo wouldn’t explore his growth potions on the raw tuber, instead going to check his garden out back.

The 10 [Spiny Swamp Thistle] plants seemed to thrive in his alchemically modified dirt. Theo could make several assumptions based on them taking root where they did. He could plant things in an area not designated as a farm, which benefited him. There were likely bonuses to growing stuff in a farm seed core area, but he would do without for the time being. The alchemist could also assume the plants that bore his reagents were more than a quirk of the swamp, something more than a thing to be harvested. They were living things that could grow and change over time, the cultivation system reflecting real plant genetics back on Earth.

So while he knew little about real plant cultivation, he could make assumptions aided by his cores. The [Drogramath Herbalism Core] whispered the loudest in this regard, while the [Governance Core] seemed completely inert. From what Theo understood, Drogramath wasn’t a Demon God related to the cultivation of crops, but he was tangentially related to the growth of reagents. That was obvious enough. The alchemist could combine his observations of the swamp around him with the words of Xol’sa. If the area was thick with Drogramath’s energy and the reagents, including the Ogre Cypress trees, were all growing back at accelerated rates, then the Demon God influenced the rate of growth of those reagents.

“Which means,” Theo said, running his gloved hand across the surface of a spiny leaf. “I need some demonic Karatan.”

The plant had no reply to his plans. This opened a whole new line of thoughts in his mind, things that he carried with him up to the lab. Theo passed by Azrug, finding Tresk’s hidden store of [Swamp Onions]. He stole the entirety of her supply, planning on asking for forgiveness later. In the last remaining barrel, one not occupied by the [Moss Nettle], he mashed and dumped the onions in, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

Theo prepared the fermentation as those thoughts ran through his mind. Cores were aligned with certain gods, perhaps even concepts, but why wouldn’t that extend to creatures? The alchemist wiped sweat from his brow, returning the lid of his barrel and withdrawing Fenian’s crystal from his inventory. He squeezed it in his hand. After a moment of mental haptic feedback, the familiar sensation of a connection clicked in his mind.

I’ve missed our chats, Fenian said, a forlorn tone in his voice.

Me too, Theo said. I have a question, and I don’t trust anyone else to answer it. Well, perhaps that wizard you brought here, but no one else.

You like Xol’sa? He’s a strange man, isn’t he? Fenian asked. Well, I’m on the outskirts of your town—I haven’t even left. Do you need something before I go?

Theo was so absorbed in his own problems, he hadn’t considered the Elf’s schedule. He let out a breath before continuing.

I think Xol’sa is going to fit in very well, Theo said. I just have a question about your Karatan. Galflower—the ones driving your carriage.

Well, that’s a secret, Fenian said. One that I won’t consider giving up—even to you.

Theo thought for a moment before responding. Would the Elven trader be so brazen as to parade Karatan aligned with Drogramath in his village? Yes. Yes, he would. The evidence was clear. The alchemist didn’t know the entire Demonic Pantheon, which seemed to sit aside from the Prime Pantheon, the The Potioneer was the least horrible of them all, sitting as a strange outsider.

Your Karatan are aligned with Drogramath, or some other Demonic Outsider, Theo said.

Well, you’ve spoiled the fun, Fenian said, sounding wounded.

Not intentionally, Theo said. I just thought they didn’t seem evil, even if they’re demonic. Which means they have an alignment, likely to an outsider Demon God.

Well, you’re right. Some creatures can have alignments. My precious Karatan are different, though, Fenian said. My sweet Galflower is a shade. A reflection of a real Karatan. Gods, this is complicated to explain. Perhaps you were hoping for a Drogramathi Karatan, or something like that, but it’s not possible. While Galflower enjoys eating my hats, she doesn’t need to eat. Therefore, she produces nothing.

Theo felt a measure of disappointment. His intuition hadn’t failed him yet, but there he stood in his lab, wrong about something. He doubted himself for only a few moments before correcting his thought-process. The creatures Fenian was talking about were fakes made from some Demon God, not actual creatures influenced by the god.

Your Karatan are copies, Theo said, pushing his thoughts into the telepathic link. But there could be real versions of livestock linked to Drogramath.

Why the sudden interest in Drogramathi Cattle? Fenian asked.

Theo thought about how much information he would divulge. Fenian was a stalwart friend, who had only done good things for Broken Tusk.

I have a few theories about my swamp. Things Xol’sa said combined with my observations, Theo said, laying it all out. My idea was to get creatures aligned with Drogramath to raise here. They’d grow faster, since things within his domain seem to grow incredibly quick here in the swamp.

Well, I’m happy to research the topic for you, Fenian said. Theo could feel his mental shrug. I’d like to think your friends with the Burning Eye would know a thing or two on the topic.

Theo didn’t want to talk to Sulvan or Uharis if he could help it. The idea of getting their advice on raising livestock seemed foolish‌.

I don’t think so. Which Demonic God is Galflower aligned with? Theo asked.

The hint is in the name. Shade. Uz’Xulven, the Demonic Queen of the Path of Shadows, Fenian said. If Drogramath is an outsider, she is an outsider’s outsider. She sits somewhere between the Prime Pantheon and the Demonic Pantheon, something like a bridge.

A bridge of shadows, Theo said, shrugging. A popping sound came from his [Swamp Onion] fermentation barrel. Removing the lid for a moment, he saw it bubbling, putting off an eye-stinging stench. He quickly returned the lid. Something stirred in his chest, a whisper from his [Drogramath Alchemy Core]. Words came to him in a Dronon tongue he didn’t recognize. He repeated them through the mental link. Uz’Godan Bokrak Tal.

Ah, you’re familiar with Old Xulvenian? Fenian asked.

Drogramath is, anyway, Theo said, knitting his brow. He wanted me to say those words.

And you did? Perhaps following the instructions of a Demonic Lord isn’t the best idea, Fenian said.

Perhaps not, Theo said, closing his eyes. What’s so bad about Drogramath, anyway?

Well, now you’re getting into philosophy, Theo, Fenian said. What’s so bad about Glantheir? Or Zaul, Delcan, Ulvuqor, Balkor? Because Gods in the Prime Pantheon are considered good, whatever that means. Even Balkor, the Bear God of War, has morals. Drogramath is within the same circle as Zagmon, Demonic God of War and Death. He has no honor, no morals. No qualms with crushing entire civilizations underfoot to get what he wants—and he wants blood. In a closed conversation like this, I have no issues talking about the problem, but be warned. This isn’t something you should say in polite society.

Theo rolled that idea over in his mind for a moment. The Prime Pantheon was apparently honorable, while the Demonic Pantheon wasn’t. Even though Drogramath was an outsider Demon Lord, this placed him in rare company. Yet there was still a divide. People didn’t run screaming when they saw the alchemist, a Drogramath Dronon. This was too much of a philosophical problem for him to consider, but he wanted to.

Perhaps Drogramath isn’t so bad, Theo said.

Perhaps not, Fenian said, a smile spreading into his thoughts. Now, if you’ll excuse me… I have a bridge to take.