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Theory of Rifts
Chapter 73: Changing Times

Chapter 73: Changing Times

An evening was slowly creeping over the savannah. Keynes and Vivena were crossing the golden field, heading toward the village. The word didn’t really fit it anymore as the grove was being turned into… something else. Something that didn’t belong to this world.

New terraces were built. The trees themselves were being shaped, snaking around large structures in between them. It was a surreal sight, one that was possible only because of the resources brought from the rifts. In over four months Keynes had spent here, the tribesmen came up with many inventions that transformed their lives.

Blacksmith Hadr reverted to making simple wooden items, though they were weak they always had some useful properties. It led the tribesmen to adapt to new fashion as they needed to wear more than a sash. Keynes was disappointed that Hadr hadn’t wanted to pursue their collaboration. It seemed that the old wounds hadn’t healed. At least, Wagner was going to start a crafting department.

One thing the tribe was quickly catching up on was creating professions related to rifts: wood and stone cutters, gardeners, cooks, alchemists and even tamers now that they’d brought eggs from the rift.

Before the outbreaks, professions had always followed Talents. Now the spells were changing everything. Some of the tribesmen had [Chop] and [Cut] that helped them cut trees. They had also found three [Cook] skills.

“What’s on your mind, Keynes?” Vivena asked.

Keynes glanced at her and came to stop.

Is she implying… No. This isn’t the right moment and it isn’t what she’s implying.

He once again pushed the thoughts of him and Vivena away. There was always a good reason to postpone it. Today, it was Keynes’s conviction that admitting his feelings to Vivena would ruin the friendship they’d built. The issue was that his reasoning was far-fetched and shaky under scrutiny, and it was likely wrong. But Keynes was Keynes and he believed that the time wasn’t right so he replied truthfully.

“About the professions and Talents.”

“Hm?” Vivena frowned, surprised and equally confused by his answer. “What do you mean?”

Keynes touched his Mana Ring he’d found in the hidden room. It was one of 12 rewards he’d gotten. Touching the ring was becoming a habit of his.

“Before the outbreaks, people were forced to do what their Talents were good at. No freedom of choice. If not for the rifts. My career paths would be … limited. But now, things are different. We have spells. Look at the tribe. Some tribesmen go against their Talents and do what they like. And on top of that, we have techniques. We can learn anything we desire. I can’t help but wonder what we are going to achieve. Think of possibilities.”

“Is that really what you’re thinking about right now?”

He narrowed his eyes, searching for the cues he was certainly missing.

“Why?”

Vivena waved her hand dismissively.

“Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“You sure?” Keynes gave her an inquisitive look.

“Absolutely,” she replied quickly and then asked her own question, sidetracking the conversation. “Have you thought about what I told you?”

“About finding other Level 3 rifts? Yes. I have and my answer remains unchanged. I must level up first. There is no way around this, Vivena. We had struggled with an uncommon rift and the rarity can go up to epic now, not to mention the types and modifiers. Even with your Talent and our hidden rewards, we’d be hard pressed at facing such a rift.”

“Keynes, you’re forgetting that my Talent can boost each of my attributes up to seventy-five points and on top of that there are items and skills. Not even Columbus Curt can match my strength.”

But she had only one serum left and most of Keynes’s rewards weren’t combat-oriented. He couldn’t understand how this desire-oriented loot worked as it only gave Keynes one item he wanted – the Mana Ring. Other items were nice … very nice actually but not something Keynes consciously desired. It still was worth many times more than standard loot. In some ways, Vivena was right. Moving on to Level 3 rifts now, would skyrocket their wealth beyond anything anyone in the world could match. And a part of Keynes felt worried about it. It felt too easy, open the hidden door and reap rewards that shamed the rift’s loot. There had to be a catch, right? Right?

And Level 3 rifts didn’t only have a chance of better rewards in general but also items unavailable at Level 2 like the class skills. Vivena was right, true, but there were other factors to consider.

“Don’t forget where we are. I may trust Haruka and Bill but the rest? Not a chance. And besides, to open another Level 3 rift, we’d have to move south; something they have forbidden us from doing.”

“South? How do you know?”

“I know locations of Level 3, 4 and 5 rifts. One each. And if my suspicions are correct then these rifts would be the hardest ones their levels can offer.”

“How do you know this, Keynes?”

Keynes looked away from Vivena and faced the grove. The ritual of secrecy only involved the vision and the meeting with Shaper at Wagner’s estate. Technically, Keynes was free to tell her about the locations…

He opened his mouth and a vision flashed before his eyes. In it, he was clutching his bleeding chest, he was dying while the greenish blood pooled beneath him. Above him, Vivena stood holding an ivory blade which dripped sickly green liquid. She was saying something to him. Was this an apology? It sounded like one. He titled his head, feeling his body rapidly losing HP. These were some potent poisons his Purified Body couldn’t withstand. Next to Keynes and Vivena, a sealed rift shimmered. It was a Level 4 rift…

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The vision ended. Keynes closed his mouth without uttering a single word. He stared at Vivena, his mind trying to make sense of what he’d just seen. Did—was she going to kill him? But why? Ah. The outbreaks…

“Keynes, are you alright?”

He nodded, trusting no words. He touched the Mana Ring again, finding very little comfort in the gesture this time. So this was how the Shaper’s vision worked. It showed him the crossroads and the consequences of the wrong choice.

“Let’s get back to the village,” Keynes said absent-mindedly.

They walked for a few minutes, Vivena kept glancing worriedly at him, she clearly wanted to find out what had happened to him but something kept her words at bay.

Ahead, the enormous trees drew closer with each step. And then Keynes noticed a flying platform. It was larger than any other the tribe possessed. He took out a spyglass from his dimensional pouch, another uncommon reward. It showed him anything up to 3 kilometres, regardless of obstacles but it cost mana.

Two women, Keynes hadn’t seen earlier, sat on the flying platform. The tribe was populated by thousands and Keynes hadn’t met everyone. Except the women were clothed in white robes with golden ornamentations that were at odds with the tribe’s fashion.

Who were they? Were they here because of Keynes’s ability to open the hidden doors? If so, they’d have to flee. The tribe’s no violence policy had some murky waters as it hardly explained how they dealt with outlaws.

Keynes tried to contact Haruka via their spiritual companions but the other man was out of range. Either he was inside the rift or the communication had a range and Haruka had crossed its boundaries. Either way, Haruka wasn't going to help Keynes right now. The only other man, Keynes trusted enough, was Bill.

***

Sunlight flowers lit the grove as Keynes and Vivena entered it. They headed straight for the centre of the village where the massive construction of the dining hall was being raised. It was a stunning building, spread over fifty metres above the ground and between many trees, giving it more space than any other building in the grove. A lot of Level 3 materials were being used alongside the chief’s Talent to spur the growth of the plants. Using various tools, the tribesmen guided enormous branches that created a solid foundation for the new dining hall.

After Keynes had maxed out all his attributes and temporarily stopped delving, Bill moved here. His job was to train new cooks. He had found three [Cook] spells and decided to raise his assistants.

The construction wasn’t finished as the number of required resources was astronomical but they had a small, temporary kitchen set up in a corner.

Bill perked up seeing them.

“What’s up?”

Keynes told him in a whisper and Bill’s face went white.

“Oh, shit. That would be the chief’s wife and my mother. I didn’t think she would return so early. It had to be the Level 3 rift.”

Bill noticed the tension and put the raw meat aside, then walked around the table.

“Listen, there is nothing to worry about. Chief Bonolo can keep them reined.”

“Why would he need to keep them reined?” Vivena asked.

***

Chief Bonolo dumped the rest of his mana into the herbs in his private garden. The starglows—Level 2 herbs—devoured it greedily but it was worth the effort. They’d discovered some interesting combinations with the fungi. One of the most promising combinations was the removal of the mind mushroom resistance. There were some unwanted side effects that needed to be eliminated but Bonolo had high hopes…

The flying platforms were silent though they emitted spiritual energy and Bonolo was quite adept at sensing it. He turned as the large flying platform silently landed on his terrace. His wife was back home. She was too early though and that alone was bad news.

Bonolo rushed toward the platform and as he came a few metres from his wife, he dropped to one knee.

“My wife,” he said, keeping his gaze directed at the floor. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“Raise, husband,” his wife said, warmly. “There is no need for such theatrics.”

“If only your father could say so.”

“My father isn’t here.”

And thank the Shaper for that.

“Aurora,” his wife said while Bonolo stayed quiet. “Go, find your husband. See to his needs.”

“Oh I will,” Aurora said mischievously, though with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Then she faded, becoming nothing. That was some formidable Talent. Poor Hawthorne.

Bonolo’s wife’s eyes didn’t leave Bonolo as he straightened before her. She was the most outstanding woman, well, with the exception of her mother. After a few moments, Bonolo realised that his wife’s white silks were crafted using rift materials. That was new. It seemed that the capital didn’t remain in place and why would it?

“Jump on.”

“I don’t have any mana left,” Bonolo protested. His wife and Aurora must have used a few days’ worths of mana on their flight here. The formations didn’t need mana to work and this one was no exception. But it needed mana to control the flight, otherwise, the activated formation would keep raising the platform until it left the atmosphere.

She showed him an amulet.

“An exotic Level 2 amulet. It regenerates five points per hour and can hold up to a hundred mana. We will be fine.”

Bonolo entered the platform. Unlike the ones they had. This one had two comfortable chairs attached to it and a proper steering wheel, which theirs lacked.

A few minutes later, they were hundreds of metres above the ground.

“Level 3 rift.”

He knew it. The capital must have learned about it. Obviously, some of his tribesmen were turncloack. It was inevitable.

“The rift is on our territory. We delve it. It belongs to us. Besides, we handed over the volatile rift as the capital requested.”

His wife stayed silent for a while then turned to him.

“It’s not only the capital. Other tribes openly demanded the right to the rift.”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t need to think, my husband, I know what is going to happen.”

“The Covenant of Tribes.”

“Indeed but this time, the capital is going to put forward their own representatives.”

“But this isn’t how it works!” Bonolo protested.

The Covenant of Tribes was another word for battle. But it wasn’t a battle like the ones conducted beyond the walls. The covenant was a survival race with only one winner. Whenever tribes argued, the capital forced them to compete in the Covenant of Tribes. Whoever’s representative survived, won. Bonolo shuddered at the memory of the Covenant. He’d been forced into entering one when he’d been young. The tribe’s chief had died and they needed another chief but by tradition, each chief had to marry a royal princess. Two hundred of Bonolo’s peers took part in the Covenant. Bonolo was the only one standing at the end of the day. He hated it and he’d never put his children through it. Never.

“Times are changing, husband. The capital is expecting the World Government to fall in a year or two. Some of the coastal cities began entering the reserve without the required licences. Our agreement with Vichy Ottoman and his replacement will soon expire. We must adjust or we will perish. There is also a new uprising spreading like a wildfire. These people think only about hunting rift monsters and growing stronger. If we stand in their way, it's too bad for us.”

“What … do you mean by ‘it’s too bad for us’?”

“The Capital must win the next covenant. That’s all you must know, my husband.”