Chapter 31
Luxuries... of Sorts
Asher opened his eyes and, as he suspected, found himself in the cabin. Covering his view, however, were a few windows that usually appeared before this point, but as he was out of the tutorial, chances were that a lot of things would likely change.
He ignored them for a moment and reached to get a jug of water--though he didn’t suffer nearly as much as he thought he would in the desert terrain, partially because his mind was otherwise occupied, now that he had come back, the parched throat’s screams were rather loud. He didn’t guzzle, however, taking a few small sips to just quench the thirst and not go overboard. He wasn’t physically thirsty, as it were, but more so mentally.
The watershed of sorts reinvigorated him as he stood up and walked over to the bed, lying down lazily before finally checking out the numerous windows.
Completed: Cindered Desert [I]
Difficulty: 16/100
Performance Rating: 33/100
Evaluation: Almost Sentient
Rewarded: 2,000 Souls, 20 Divine Gems, x1 Golden Locust Prince Shell, x1 Barrel of Mead, x3 Green Apples
...
[Your ingenuity has impressed a Lady!]
[You have been Blessed temporarily!]
Resisting Blood [Uncommon] -- take 50% less damage per tick of the DoT effects. Has a small chance to instantly cleanse you of an ailment. -- Lasts 5 stages.
...
[Your stupidity has amused a Lord!]
[You have been Blessed temporarily!]
Paroxysm of Devotion [Rare] -- increases damage dealt to the lesser lifeforms by 40% (all non-boss and non-mutated monsters) -- lasts 2 stages.
...
[Your courage has inspired a Lady!]
[You have been given a Gift!]
Gifted: x1 Book, [Empire’s Progenitor: Tales of Awe]
...
More and more Lords and Ladies have started paying attention to you.
Virtually as soon as he'd finished reading the list of things, he heard a thump near him. Looking to the side, he gasped audibly for a moment--neatly stacked just beside him on the bed was a book that was promised. The issue was that it wasn't so much a book as it was an absolute feat of paper-stacking, for it was over fifteen inches tall.
Just lifting it, Asher estimated that it weighed over ten pounds and that it sported some ten thousand pages at the very least. He set it aside for a moment--though it was massive, considering that it’d also become his sole source of entertainment, he garnered he’d be reading it quite frequently in the coming days.
There was something else that he looked forward to far more, however. Moving into the living room slash kitchen slash dining room, he saw it--there was a barrel there, a tiny one, not even large enough to reach his knees, and atop the barrel were three green apples. Though they were bruised and seemed somewhat old, Asher immediately grabbed one and started devouring it like an esurient man grasping his first meal after ages.
The tantalizing, sweet nectar, the crispy bit, the overflow of juices... tears swelled in the corners of his eyes and he silently wept as he ate the apple. It was strange; it hadn't even been that long, technically speaking, since he had been here. Back on Earth, he'd occasionally go weeks without eating a single fruit, let alone just an apple. And yet, here, seemingly bereft of all the other joys, the taste was simply divine.
He finished it off in just a few moments, almost tempted to swallow its black seeds as well, but the reason prevailed. Setting the other two aside while fighting off the temptation with his life on the line, he focused on the barrel.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Though it was rather small, it wasn’t minuscule--per his rough estimates from when he was temporarily working as a bartender in a small Scottish hamlet, there ought to be around 10 pints of mead stored within, or just around a gallon or so. Though it wasn’t much, in some sense, considering how ‘thrifty’ they were with rewarding just ordinary water, almost a gallon of mead was like a divine blessing. In fact, he’d rather have another gallon of mead over the Resisting Blood blessing.
“No, wait,” he paused, stroking his chin for a moment. By now, he’d gotten somewhat in tune with the order of this world--at least in a small way. The rewards, as much as they appeared to be so, weren’t entirely random. There was some cause and reason behind it. Chances were, if he was gifted a blessing that effectively halved the damage taken of a particular type, there was a specific stage where this sort of a Blessing would come in handy.
Considering that it lasted 5 Stages, chances were that it was still just a part of the equation rather than the whole, but it was better than nothing.
Setting his straying thoughts aside, he popped open the barrel and took a swift whiff--it wasn't particularly... good. Asher had never drunk mead before in his life, but he had a few friends who chimed in, often mentioning that while the taste varied from good to amazing, the smell was rarely above 'tolerable'. He didn't mind it, however--any variety was good.
It was cream-colored, extremely still, and unmoving.
Asher grabbed one of the empty jugs of water and scooped a handful, taking a sip. The sweetness of honey was somewhat subdued under the taste of fermented yeast, but the combination kind of worked still. He let it swivel around, soaking into his gums for quite some time before swallowing.
He held back from drinking more after the alcoholic aftereffects burned through him. He’d heard from the aforementioned buddies that most meads came with high ABV, and though Asher liked drinking, unless he was trying to bury something in particular inside of his mind, he didn’t like the feeling of being drunk all that much.
Closing up the barrel, he stretched for a little while before taking a nap. He’d also gotten 2,000 Souls and further increased the number of Divine Gems that were beginning to pile up ever so slightly.
He wished he could feel the passage of time. It had gotten quite disorienting, not knowing whether it was dawn or dusk whenever he'd wake up from a nap or long-term sleep. Yawning, he quickly ate his 'improved' daily meal and washed it down with a mouthful of mead, resisting the urge to swallow up one of the two remaining apples.
A quick stretch-and-workout session later, he washed his pits just the same as yesterday, drying them off with a blanket before ‘teleporting’ back to the plaza.
As ever before so today--it was lively, populated with a stream of all manner of folk rushing between the various buildings. Asher’s eyes immediately zeroed in on the now-repaired smithy--sighing in relief, he saw that there was a line outside of it and went over immediately. There were quite a few people--more so than anywhere else--but he wasn’t impatient. He’d stored the locust neatly inside his pocket, away from the prying eyes, and simply listening in lazily on the conversations.
“--man, I’m just like 20,000 away from finally getting a scented candle. I can’t wait.”
“Shit, you’re smart. I’ve wasted like 30,000 Souls gambling on getting a lucky draw. What the hell was I thinking?”
“Heh, I don’t blame you. Remember that bastard Wayne? I heard he drew a yearly supply of butter. That he can trade.”
"What?! How come I've never seen 'im?!"
“Heh. A buncha people are hunting down whichever ‘phase’ he’s in, so as soon as he pops up, that shit gets filled up fast. Bastards like us won’t get a chance.”
“Goddamn, he must be swimming in Souls...”
“...”
“Yeah, Myra’s throwing a party tomorrow. Apparently, she’s gonna be serving cider and cheddar.”
“Goddamn, when’d she get so rich?”
“...”
Asher grew somewhat numb to the wholesale pointless tidbits he picked up from the crowd. Most of it were rumors or hearsay, or just normal conversations between people as though they were waiting in front of a kebab shop or something.
The line eventually began to thin out. The closer he got to the smithy, the more he felt the billows of hot air blast through, washing over them. He’d noticed that quite a few people were sweating profusely, some even taking out bottles of water and taking a sip, but nobody was protesting or being impatient. And he followed.
In the end, he ended up waiting nearly three hours until it was finally his turn. As soon as he entered, the temperature spiked beyond just being uncomfortable to being outright painful. It eked out even the desert, though, in the latter's defense, Asher was feeling things here very much both mentally and physically.
At the very center of the smithy was a massive forge hearth--within the confines of strange, copper-dyed bricks with runic engravings, a wild fire roared. Its hue shifted between raging, bloody red to almost blinding white, changing every few moments it felt. Right next to the hearth were the bellows and the anvil, with the latter being twice the size of any anvil Asher had ever seen before. The tapered horn, too, was a bit strange as it seemed almost alive--no, in fact, it was alive, coiling ever so slightly back and forth.
To his surprise, though he saw a few... oddities, as it were--such as the floating prism tucked in the corner--most of the smithy appeared rather ordinary. Besides the main setup atop the stone platform, there was the tool rack hanging to the side, a water trough, a workbench, and a rather impressive ventilation system. So impressive, in fact, that Asher could hardly tell the difference between the air outside and inside--there was a twinge of burn to it, but unless he focused on it, it went all but unnoticed.
Currently positioned right next to the water trough, a woman who looked to be in her late thirties at the earliest was quenching a long piece of blade, her expression firm and concentrated.
She was tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders, an angular face, and toned muscles. She wore a classic blacksmith attire, with an apron sporting similar runic shapes to the hearth, occasionally seemingly glistening under the light of the fading embers. A pair of black eyes eventually veered away from the trough and found him--but just as quickly looked elsewhere. She put away the blade and walked up, maintaining some four feet of distance, still looking away.
“You... you’re new, right?” he could barely hear her over the sounds of the roaring fire. “It’s, uh, it’s 10,000 for a Common item. You, you should go back... and come later.”
“--this,” Asher reached into his pocket and took out the locust, pressing it forward. “Can you tell me anything about it?”