The trip to the harbour was without another hitch. The only surprise was the revelation of the orcen knights; they were the defected royal guards. One of them died in the suicide attack on the ambushers’ leader who was apparently a very powerful ki-warrior.
Vlad also had to ‘borrow’ a masked helmet and a few togas to sew a makeshift robe for himself. Luckily, there were supplies like a small sewing kit already in his backpack; luck favours the prepared. Frankly, he was so used to being naked already that he had to be reminded. He was thinking he was becoming an exhibitionist after that…
The harbour was… Not what he expected. It was just a smaller copy of the Koul’E city. Shiny, metallic buildings mixed with marble and granite were built in a crescent around the docks. The city architecture was prepared in advance, so there was no organic feeling in this.
However, the docks were more interesting. First, derricks and cranes were operated by incredibly large hydraulic pistons that were embedded deep into the ground, surely in the underground where goblin-slaves were overworking themselves. Second was the ships; no wooden caravels or galleons, but gorgeous, shiny steamboats were neatly lined up near their docks of all sizes. The magic of this world allowed the steam to truly shine. No wonder there was no need for gunpowder or other sources of energy. Even with the system, pure magic and levels, it seemed that the powerful of this world did not abandon technological research.
“How is this harbour named anyway?” Vlad asked just for the sake of asking.
“It’s is still considered as a part of Koul’E city,” the priestess automatically answered. She inwardly sighed; the stories were right; planeswalkers were annoying.
Right now, they were nearing one of the smaller chapels near the goblin slums. Harbour only had a small underground, not a multi-layered maze, like the main city.
There were other races too; mostly lizardmen who came, or more likely were driven out, from northern islands. A few Minos adventurers, beings even larger than orcs, nearing 3 metres; often even taller. They had heads of bulls or cows, often decorated with tattoos. Their fur was in the shades of brown to black.
They were offering themselves as sailors as they were not allowed into the main city, for whatever stupid reason the royal family declared a long time ago and didn’t bother to amend. They lived in the mountains near the Blood Steppes and worked as a first defence line against the savage beasts and goblins living there.
If there were even more races, Vlad could not know as they finally reached their destination. The chapel was… broken. Dirty. Looted and empty. Eerily so.
Sular did not like it at all… There was no message from Staumaz, no message from the church. When they carefully entered the place, a foul air hit them in their noses. The smell of death, decay and old blood.
Sular decided to promptly leave, not caring about it, saying something about more pressing problems. So she just chanted a short prayer and put a misty seal on the front gate to warn and forbid normal citizens to enter. Of course, anyone with enough power would be able to break it down.
So, their little entourage entered a local pub that was also serving as a low-grade hiring spot. There were mostly criminals but also information brokers. And as Vlad was the only one with cash, he was paying.
“Why don’t you have money?” He asked, exasperated. He needed that money for herbs and new apparatus.
“They exploded,” she snapped at him. She really, really did not want to remember that her gold just went poof.
“Do you know where Sou’Rek is?” Vlad sighed…
“Yes, here…” She nodded at something behind his back. Vlad turned and there he was; drunk, stripped naked with a goblinette in his lap and a few small towers of golden coins on a table before him.
“Sou’Rek!” Vlad groaned in annoyance mixed with relief. He owed him too much for not meeting again.
“Welcome to the dirtiest, poorest, most disgusting pub in the harbour!” He laughed and raised his hand with a goblet filled with a purple liquid. Vlad analysed it, discovering it was a high-percentage alcohol. Around 80%. As he gaped at the number, he quickly realized that he was dealing with someone who was more than 10x more powerful and durable than a normal human.
“I want a bed, a clean room, an apparatus and herbs,” Vlad ordered as he came to the orcen bartender. The said orc shot him a dirty look and ignored him.
“Sos’Ak! Make it happen,” Sular stood alongside Vlad. She leaned and whispered something, from which Vlad only understood, ‘good’ and ‘gold’.
The man sighed and ordered his slave-goblin to run to the apothecary for a few sets of the needed herbs and another one to lead them to their rooms.
“Sou’Rek! Coming with us?” Vlad asked, observing the half-unconscious fallen inquisitor.
“Take him, or for fucks sake, somebody will murder him here,” the bartender suddenly said. A brief thought flashed through Vlad’s head; from when an orc was caring for a goblin. Then he realized that he knew Sular… So he was a sympathizer. He was too tired to deal with it. First, Bread. She was still soundly sleeping and had a slightly heightened temperature. He guessed it was the work of two non-compatible potions he made her drink. He wanted to tear his head off for not thinking about that.
The upstairs was very well defended with two large orcs, definitely in the second tier of their classes. His room was at the end.
When he closed the metallic door he noticed a visitor.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
“Goulash? Don’t you have your own room?”
“Not moving until Bread is healed. You work hard, or I will skewer you with your own weapon,” Goulash threatened.
“No need to threaten me. I was planning to do that anyway,” Vlad said but then his stomach grumbled. “First we eat… Go bring us food, I will go through my backpack… I still don’t have the needed tools anyway,” Vlad wanted a few moments for himself.
Goulash just stared at him for a moment, then glanced at Bread who was safely lying in the bed. He slowly nodded and reluctantly left. Vlad sighed, his head exploding from the headache. First school drama, then ambushes, then the destroyed chapel, then this… And he still had a slight concussion he had to ignore. Not exactly a mood improver.
The backpack was not usable anymore. The broken glass destroyed most of the enchanting on the inside and even shredded some herbs.
A slave-goblin knocked and entered, holding a bag of herbs in one hand and the other a bronze case.
He put everything together and proceeded to make the potions without another due. First for himself a Potion of Regeneration, which took him around half an hour.
He quaffed it right from the fire, slightly burning his tongue.
Then he started to make the Potions of Limb Regrows. Again. It took him a whole night to make five of them instead of two days. The effect of the progressed alchemy was amazing. It enhanced his speed of brewing by 50% for beginner and lower grades. Also, he now had a 99% chance of successfully brewing a novice-grade potion and an 80% chance to brew a beginner-grade.
However, he hit a wall. He needed magic or divinity and a class to advance.
On the next day, after he was fed and bathed he fell half-asleep half-unconscious after he left instruction to Goulash for Bread who was finally awake.
Two days later, when Bread regenerated and Vlad paid a whopping two grand for their entourage, including a Sou’Rek’s debt he was somehow able to rack when Vlad slept. He knew that the loss of his patron grace must have hit Sou’Rek more than he let on. From what he understood, Sou’Rek stayed in an alcoholic haze from the day he arrived. The gold from yesterday Vlad thought was his? Not in chance… It was the goblinettes gold, respectively her owners gold after Sou’Rek lost it in the game.
Then another surprise came; “LAR’AKO!?” Vlad shouted in surprise, named The Mermaids’ Tail. The noise stopped, every single head turning to him, making him pull the robe close to his face. He was disguised with a much higher quality paste than before in the Koul’E, still...
“Ahh, what a surprise! The little gladiator of mine!” She declared to everyone with a bright smile. The interest quickly fell and they turned back to their chatting and drinks. “Come, idiot. Let’s talk,” the orcette lanista leaned and whispered.
In her room, after she closed the doors, she asked, “What are you doing here? Devils and nobles are searching for you like crazy.”
“Sular sent me for someone called Captain Kazi’Suk,” he replied with false calm. Inwardly, he was shivering; his two weeks with her in the Ludus was still deeply rooted in him.
“He is dead,” she frowned.
“Well… In that case, my job here is done,” Vlad prepared to leave, not wanting to have anything with her. She followed him. He started to run but was unable to lose her. “What do you want?”
She just smiled, her tusks fully exposed. And still followed him.
He sighed and went to their tavern.
“Lar,” Sular nodded in greeting, sitting on her bed. “Kazi’Suk?” She asked, already anticipating the answer.
“Dead,” Lar’Ako dryly replied.
“Fuck! He had a good steamboat…” She swore with a heaviness in her tone. She just lost a good friend.
“Oh, he was executed by the royals as a traitor. His boat is still in the docks,” the lanista grinned.
“Reeaaaaally now,” she greedily beamed and Vlad could swear that the priestesses eyes turned into coins.
“Yep… And it’s mine now,” Lar’Ako replied with an even wider grin.
“Do you hire?” Sular asked, confusing Vlad.
“Don’t tell me you are going with us?” He asked with a sinking feeling. That 15% of his future income… He already swore on the god of commerce, death and taxes, Waikan. It was a swift process, only shown by a thin, golden thread coiling around his wrist. However, it never showed up in Onyx… He was slightly confused by it, but let it be as he could not do anything with it anyway.
“Yes,” Lar’Ako sullenly answered, the grin faded from her face.
“Devils… Why? What are they planning? It all smells… panicked from their side,” Sular said and both turned their head to Vladimir who was there standing dumbfounded. He didn’t have an idea as the only thing he locked behind in the mind palace were information about Onyx and a few details of his history.
“There is a rumour… however, it allegedly came from a drunk royal guard,” Lar’Ako took a deep breath and continued, “that the human friend here is a blind spot for divination magic.”
Sular scrutinized her as if she was deciding if the lanista was talking seriously. “Don’t trust any stupid rumour you hear… No, they come after all of us. Maybe except Bread. For me because of my standing within the church, for Goulash because he is the only eligible leader of goblins, and human here because he could adjust an orcen breathing technique, which you so graciously provided to him, to human and goblin physiology, each in a day or so,” she explained.
Vladimir did not bother to correct her. He knew he was the so-called blind spot. He just did not know that devils know too, luckily that means they know they can’t find with the divination magic so hopefully they won’t even try. He could already see how to bypass his own strength.
“Huh… So that's why you were fine… I knew I shouldn’t give you a human one…” Lar’Ako muttered and now it was time for Vladimir to gape. What did she just say? “Oh, you don’t still know. You did not tell him, yet?” She turned to the priestess.
“Not my secret to tell and I wanted to see his funny face,” she merrily laughed, her tense posture relaxed a bit.
“I am a spy for the Sea-Elven Alliance. My name is not Lar’Ako but Aelathane, an elven apprentice wizard. Nice to meet you,” as she dropped the bomb, her body started to slowly melt. In just a moment the green orcette became a sludge of clear unidentifiable matter on the ground, but it started to slowly form again.
Four minutes later, a naked woman stood before him, heavily gasping. A woman of a race that could only be called elven. She had long, pointy ears, around the size of a goblins’ ones, round green eyes and red, curly, long hairs. Her face was aristocratic with a narrow, adorable nose with freckles, full, seductive, scarlet lips. However, it was all dominated by her warm green eyes, showing wisdom, experience and amusement. Her ideal and flawless skin seemingly sparkled in the twin suns’ rays coming from the window. Supple, slightly pointy, c-cup breasts were gloriously exposed to him. A small, cute ass that just screamed ‘slap me’. Legs were just pure perfection, not too long, not too short. Her body was instead over 2 metres, only 1.8 metres, almost the height of his. She had a clean abdomen, no single hair grew there.
He saw the most beautiful, charming and lovely woman on Earth, often from a very close distance. This elven female would be able to raze the Earth’s modelling industry to the ground and make every single actress and model weep in defeat.
So he said the only thing that came to his mind, “Bread is cuter.”