The Wandering Inn

Book 8: Chapter 37: H

Do you like The Wandering Inn? How aboutin French? The official translation of LAuberge Vagabonde is up, as well as a Patreon! If you know anyone whos been holding off because English sucks, recommend it to them!

Thats right. Were going international! I meansomeone else is. I dont speak French. Or write it. I assume this is in French. It could all be an elaborate joke. How do you know Google Translate translates /aubergevagabonde

The earth felt no different under Orjin of Pomles feet as he jogged around the natural canyon, a natural shelter from dust storms and wind that held a small oasis.

The Strongest of Pomle was bare-chested. He wore little clothing, and that had been mostly due to a lack of any clothing to begin with. When he had needed it, he had traded for garments, patched up holes, or paid the few people who could work with needles to fix it for him.

It was a problem to be dealt with, not a desire or focus of his life. These days, he could have adorned himself in a number of raiments.

He stayed light. Excess clothing in Chandrars punishing heat could be a training in and of itself, but what was the point of rich cloth that would soon tear or degrade? His dark skin wouldnt burn under the sun, anyways. Not like some of the new arrivals to Pomle. Or her.

Apparently, scales could sunburn and flake off, just like skin. Orjin thought of her. Some now thought of that Drake as the most dangerous threat to Pomles existence, and theirs was a tiny nation of [Martial Artists] who had once fought every kingdom and empire for hundreds of miles around to retain their independence.

Orjin could see why. He was Strongest of Pomle, a simple title that meant a lot and a little. In other times, it just meant he had the unenvious task of quelling arguments between the warriors of Pomle, making decisions if need be, and leading the defense against larger threats and monsters. It was not necessarily a position many wanted.

For his entire life, he had trained here, growing in levels, skill, and Skills, learning different styles of fighting, andwell, being what Pomle was. A [Martial Artist], ever in training. Some came to improve for a while. Others left to hone their strength. Since its inception, this is how Pomle had been.

She had changed everything. Orjin moved quickly, stepping lightly across the sand. There was a trick to it; if you had a lightfoot Skill, you could race about as if you had solid ground to push off from. For Orjin and those without, you needed to know how to get a firm foothold beneath the tenuous grains of sand, to push, pivot, and fight properly.

The sand burning his bare feet would have been a concern if Orjin were twenty years younger. He had been plagued by burning his feet when the sun was out when he was a child; now if there was pain, he would ignore it or treat it as a lesson for not moving at the right speed.

He had a pace a camel would envy, at any rate, surging up and down the dunes, stopping along a partially-uncovered road, even hopping onto a stone chunk buried in the sands to stare about.

Its all the same.

The man muttered to himself. Everything was as he remembered itin that he never bothered to remember the shifting landscape around Pomle. It straddled the Great Desert, Zeikhal, which dominated the center of Chandrar. There were places to live deep inland, but the most prosperous nations tended towards the coasts.

Nothing was different about this area. And yetit was. Somehow, it was. If he had not known, would he have sensed it? Orjin wondered.

All the light touchedliterallywas Pomles. From the canyon, to as far as Orjin could see, until the land rose in an incline to the north. Pomles.

To be clear, it had not been a week ago. Pomle was a small nation whose independence wasnt even recognized on paper by most nations; they claimed only the canyon, and even then, anyone was free to come and go as long as they didnt make trouble. The Peace of Pomle was so famous that other nations even came to make diplomatic treaties on this neutral ground.

Yet now, there was a definitive border of Pomles. She had marked it out with a stick, and arranged for a [Cartographer] to draw a new map with the border. She had made this happen.

Salii.

The greatest [Secretary] the world had ever seenaccording to herwas relaxing under a palm tree. She wasnt stupid enough to sit under one with an actual fruit that could kill you if it fell; she was drinking from a flask of water, and had a comfy rocking chair with Shockwool padding.

Orjin eyed the chair. It was new. The Shockwool, a product of the baahing Shockwoolies, was a new product of Pomles. The little town of mud-brick houses? New.

You expanded Pomle again, Salii?

It was cheap, Orjin. No one wants the land around us. I made a few [Memos], invested the money from the pit fightsthats right. You told me I could do whatever I wanted. So I did.

Salii fluttered her eyes at Orjin. He grunted. She was mocking him. He debated kicking her chair into the oasis she was relaxing next to. A single magical stone was embedded in the oasis, sucking water out of the atmosphere and dribbling it into the pond. The edges, usually a crumbling mess of dirt eroding inwards, were now shored up with stone, and everyone was reminded to keep trash well clear of the oasis.

Not that the [Martial Artists] had ever tossed dirty things in. But Orjin recalled some sickness from when a few would bathe injuries or just jump in after months of being dirty. You learned to boil the water fast.

New, new, new. The animal pens? New. The grass being cultivated in the first fertile patch of soil so the animals could graze? New. Permanent houses for the refugees of Tiqr and growing number of travellers? New.

Orjins scowl and folded arms made Salii look up after a second. She smiled brightly.

Do you have any objections, Strongest of Pomle? Im here to serve. I am Pomles [Secretary]. Just say the word.

The Strongest of Pomle stared at her. He stared over his shoulder at the new lands that Pomle owned. He really thought about kicking her chair over.

Without a word, Orjin walked off. Salii grinnedthen sighed and settled back, fanning herself with her clipboard.

That had been emblematic of their last two dozen encounters, over as many days. A little story of Pomles unexpected growth. The breaking point was not the new lands.

It was not the fighting pits, which had worldwide acclaim. It was not the stone homes, the trading post set up, or even the permanent [Umbrella of Shade] spell in one corner of the canyon.

The last straw washealing potions.

It was getting old to Orjin as well. And to be fair, the [Martial Artists] had stopped demanding he do something about Salii with every new thing. Theyd been remarkably patient. A few eyes had twitched at the [Umbrella of Shade] spell, but the non-warriors did need a place to relax in the shade, and it was nice and cool.

The stone homes the [Geomancer] put up were permanent, but you didnt have to live in them. The grazing pastures for the animals didnt take that much water, and the animals themselves wereanimals. A trading bazaar let [Traders] stay, and you didnt have to go near them.

When they finally snapped, it was at healing potions. Namely, as Orjin understood it, a new group of [Martial Artists] now training alongside their peers, but healing any wounds taken in sparring, chugging down a stamina potion, and generally, buying things.

Like clothing. Perhaps, rather than practice punches and kicks and steps bare-chested in the sun, some fairer-skinned [Martial Artist] decided to buy a vest and trousers? All okay. And maybe you did have potions for emergencies; everyone had some for bad injuries. Finefine

But an enchanted Vest of Cooling and six stamina potions? Theyre sleeping in the new homes, on padded beds, and they have a [Cook] making them breakfast, lunch, and dinner! They have their clothes washed by a [Washer], and now theres a [Masseuse]!

Salthorn shouted. The [Grappling Master], a Selphid with a worn-out body amazingly still functional, was gesturing at some embarrassed [Martial Artists]. Orjin eyed them.

They were not, as you might think, new to Pomle. Rather, they were fairly experienced. Not masters, but some were among the higher levels in Pomle. Which is why they had the money for all this.

They did pay for everything, Master Salthorn. We have [Cooks], [Laundry Washers], and yes, someone is offering massage-services. Theyre quite good. You feel relaxed afterwards. Isnt that part of martial arts?

Salii entertained the angry [Martial Artists] near her home, which had been expanded from a place in the shade to a hut, to a stone building she could work out of. Salthorns glare was almost a physical attack.

Dont play games with us, Salii. Youve taken all the challenge out of living in Pomle!

I took nothing. Theyre paying for all this with the money theyve earned. Thats how money works. You see, you pay money, and then

They won that in your pit fighting!

That was what people called it. Saliis pitsuntil they realized that was a bad name. But the underground gambling matches had a life of their own. People from nations as far off as Rhir and Terandria bet vast sums of gold on who would win in Pomles matches.

There was an appeal, even though gladiatorial arenas and other institutions had scrambled to replicate Saliis ideawhich she had gotten from Iratze, the strange young man and his group with unique fighting stylesbut Pomle had still retained most of the viewers. Mainly because Pomle had so many diverse species, warriors, and styles that it was never predictable.

Orjin was about to step in when Salii sighed and dropped her teasing. She looked at the group of thirty [Martial Artists], many of whom would probably repeat the contents of the argument to their friends and associates if it came to anything.

Lets be clear, Salthorn. Youre not angry about healing potions or potions at all, are you? If theyre not used to undo the effects of muscle trainingyou have your non-Selphid apprentices use them. Its not that.

The Selphid grunted.

No. Its the money. Itsyou making Pomle easy. Weve all seen whats been done and the Strongest hasnt stopped you because a lot was for them.

She nodded at the non-warriors, the people of Tiqr, travellers, who had come during the war. Orjin saw them watching the standoff anxiously. However, Salthorn was noticeably not one of Pomles warriors who was annoyed by the refugees who had settled here. She was just exasperated about the outcome. She closed her eyesthe one that still was in its socket, ratherand a little flash of orange revealed her true eye in the hollow socket of the other.

Pomle was a place for us to become strong because it afforded little opportunity for anything else. Nowyoung [Martial Artists] can make a small fortune if they fight and win in your betting pit. They dream of luxuries where once the harshness of the oasis drove away all but those who were truly dedicated.

So?

Salthorn looked ready to choke Salii into the next world, but the Drake elaborated before the [Grappling Master] could lose her patience. She spoke loudly enough for all to hear.

Luxury. Why is that bad in a vacuum? Potions, someone to cook for younone of this is bad, as you admit, Salthorn. Its the fact that it can be done, can make a very pleasant life that you object to. Well. Is that wrong of me to create? I am challenging your beliefs with my Skills, clipboard, and knowledge. If I can erase what makes you [Martial Artists] by offering you money, was that a fault of the money or the fact that you never had to choose before?

It was a well-reasoned argument. The warriors of Pomle looked at each other, and Salii looked a bit smugfor all of a second. Then a Stitch-man brushed hair out of his face. He hadnt cut his hair in the six years since hed come here to learn from Xil, the great [Peerless Spearmaster] Garuda. Orjin had never heard him speak, but the young man replied to the Drake now.

This is so, Miss Salii. Thanks to you, the oasis will never run dry. You make our lives easier. Thusly, levelling becomes harder. It is not fair to equate such amenities simply to temptation.

Saliis brows rose high, and Orjin saw many nod, including himself. If the [Secretary] had expected Pomles warriors to be thoughtlessyears of solitary practice gave you plenty of time to think.

Her nod was respectful to the Stitch-man. Salii thought for only a second before she turned and gestured at the town behind her.

Youre right, sir. Civilization is designed to elevate all, at the expense of the few. A good civil servant serves her people; a fact my people seem to have forgotten. Yes, I am decreasing the harshness of Pomle, but now more people than ever will become [Martial Artists], can live here. Pomles population has quintupled, and unlike other times, it will retain that numberif you let them. Already, more and more are developing classes to improve your training, or seeking to emulate you. Thats true too, isnt it?

It was. Salthorn bit her lip. Even she had a new apprentice, in the form of Iratze, and many refugees aspired to be like Pomles best, with little else to emulate or do now their kingdom was lost.

Its a tricky problem. Nevertheless, we who came here for privacy suffer. Those who came for harshness suffer. We did not turn away those in need, but it is not our desire to sacrifice Pomle to become a city just so they can live as they wish.

Salthorn pointed out at last. The [Martial Artists] nodded. Salii nodded.

Then, that is a decision for you to make. I serve the Strongest of Pomle. He has not stopped me from doing what I can to improve the lives here. It is his decision, and he has elected to let me do as I see best for everyone. Whomever the Strongest is, makes the rules. Isnt that how it goes?

All eyes swung towards Orjin. The Strongest grunted. He saw a lot of [Martial Artists] glance at each other, then eye him in a speculative way.

Orjin was not pleased at the way Salii grinned. After all this time, shed finally figured out how to force him to do something when he had deliberately, stubbornly refused to make use of her abilities.

He had to admire her tenacity.

The first serious challenge to the Strongest of Pomle in over three years came the next day. Oh, they did challenge him for spars, and sometimes for the position, but few actually wanted the role who could back up their desires.

This timesomeone close to Orjins level asked him for a match as he was having breakfastfresh dates, his favorite treat. Orjin looked up and saw a Dullahan woman, her armor faded, but still strong steel.

Chein. I accept. Thirty minutes. Here.

Cheindurana, the [Slayer of Fists], bowed slightly and re-fastened her head. Orjin put half the dates awayhe would need to be lightand crossed his legs, meditating. Envisioning the fight. He made sure his old healing potion was still good and tucked it into his beltnot that he would use it during the battle. But he would definitely need it.

Salii and Pomles warriors, and the refugeespractically everyonewatched the bout. It was rare to see two masters go at it this fiercely, and you could learn a lot. If you could even tell what was happening.

Some of it was obvious. When Orjin went for a low, practically nose-to-the-ground tackle into an arm lock, Iratze and new [Warriors] could tell that Chein barely got out of it. If he grabbed her, a non-grappling expert, she would be in trouble. Orjin wasnt Salthorn, but he had trained in many styles.

Her [Perfect Dodge] was gone. And there were only a set number of Skills you could use in a limited time window. So it wasnt as flashy as the Wrath of Winds match and that idiotic cult. Rather, it was fast and brutal.

Orjin ate eight punches as Chein backed up. She had a natural [Flash Step] equivalent. He knew some of the crowd were gasping; he tuned them out, but they didnt understand how the powerful, heavy punches that were visibly distorting his chest, face, arms as he tried to block them were even landing.

Chein was punching, but shed miss one punch as he ducked leftand Orjin would clearly be uppercut. And not by a light punch, either. [Enhanced Strength] and steel gauntlets meant she was hitting him so hard many people would have passed out already.

The ninth punch Orjin saw, and he dodged Cheins physical jaband her second blow, which had been almost invisible the first time it landed. Iratze didnt see what Orjin had just dodged; Salii was squinting.

Can you see it, Miss Salii?

The Drake [Secretary] frowned. She eyed Chein.

Nope. Well, sort of, but its too fast.

[Shadowhook Punch].

Orjin had run into a warrior who had advanced to a next stage of combatbeyond what you could merely see. The punches were like an aura attack. Or

He didnt have time to think about it. A punch hit his arm and hurt far more than it should have. He had [Steel Skin], and it cut through his Skill.

Hard to seeinvisible if you couldnt sense auras at alland hard to block. Cheins furious punches had once, apparently, killed a Hydra by sheer punishing damage on her home continent. Orjin ate another punch when he tried to get close. He couldnt lock her down in a grappling match; if she was new to Pomle, maybe. Whenever he tried now, Chein used one of her higher-level Skills.

[Omnidirectional Blow] was not fun to get to the back of your head. Orjin leapt back, and decided he couldnt risk it dragging out. He got serious, in a way he hadnt needed to for a while.

The Dullahan [Slayer] backed up as she saw Orjins center of gravity lower. But he didnt even give her a second to react; only a fool needed to prepare their best Skills.

And only a fool spoke them out loud.

[Dulav-ra: Tetrad of the Solar Aura].

It was so fast Salii barely saw it. She just saw a flash, smelled the burning steel, heard Cheins shout of pain and then Orjin was bending over her.

She saw the holes in Cheins armor from two of the blows, and Xil explained the rest to some of his apprentices and the other warriors.

Four blows. Fire. Aura strikesor whatever you want to call them. Energy-infused punches. Her armor Skill was worthless against them. Good thing he avoided her vitals; see?

Orjin had damaged Cheins armor, and the blushing Dullahan was covering the gaps. He hadnt hurt her badly, but he could have, so it was the deciding blow.

Salii was fascinated. However, she had more insight than some of the others. She happened to know that Dulav-ra, the Skill that had popped up in her [Appraisal]-vision, was Orjins personal martial art.

A high-level Skill for a high-level fight. Orjin sat, panting, discussing the match with Chein. Amicably; she was annoyed that shed lost and her armor-body had been damaged, but they were both agreeing to train together later.

I am injured. Any further matches must wait at least two days.

Orjin informed the crowd. His position of Strongest would remain until someone could beat him at full-strength. Even sohis gaze found Salii. She waved, smiling. Orjin glowered.

Salii. I wish to speak to you after this.

I got you to do something at last. Ive won! Ive won!

Salii wassurprisingly childish in victory. She did a little victory dance as Orjin held some chilled stones in a bag to the back of his head. He still smarted from the match, and his glare spoke volumes.

I did not tell you to do anything because the Strongest should not be a ruler, Salii. I am unhappy you are forcing me to take an active role.

Pshaw. Thats what you think. A leader doesnt lead? Orjin, thats stupid. Pomle must have direction.

Why must it change at all, Salii?

The Drake stopped wagging her tail around and turned to face him.

Because it can be better, Orjin. As Pomle, the training ground for [Martial Artists], not just better in a nebulous sense. I came here to do just that, to test myself as a [Secretary] against the most stubborn idiots in this entire continent of sand.

At least she was honest about it. That was the same answer shed given him when theyd met and he had become the newest Strongest. Orjin sighed.

Pomle is becoming too comfortable. Can you fix it?

Of course.

He blinked. With such an open-ended statement even he had expected Salii to ask questions. But the Drake was already striding about her orderly house, laying out documents for him. For him to sign. His eyes narrowed as Salii explained.

I have an idea to make them see I can be a benefit. Pomle wants hard? We can give them hard. Ive been speaking to Iratze and his group. Very interesting Humans, and I dont mean as a species. You should talk to them too. They have a secret but Ive been too busy to ferret it out.

They use a strange martial art. Elegant. Not adapted for Skills at all, though. What isthis, Salii?

She rolled her eyes and smirked at him as Orjin stared at the illustration and her tidy notes.

Did you really think I didnt know Salthorn was coming back to shout at me?

Orjins head snapped up. He met her dancing gaze.

You were waiting for them to complain.

Cause and effect is sometimes better than preemptive efforts. Rather, in some situations it is better to build trust by proving you can back up your claims. In other cases? Stop a fire before it starts. But I was also saving up gold.

The [Secretary] wagged a claw at Orjin. He sat back.

Hm. I like this one.

Salii eyed her illustration and rolled her eyes.

Of course you do. We can do them all.

This is your plan for a new Pomle? Why, Salii?

The [Secretary] pursed her lips.

Didnt you hear? So I can level. Because I think [Martial Artists] of an even higher level are fascinating. The other nations are already scared of you. Imagine if the average level around here rose by 10? By even 5? I spent four years here, Orjin, proving I could survive so the [Martial Artists] respected me. Learning how Pomle worked. Figuring out how to do double-entry bookkeeping for an entire nation on half a sheet of parchment!

Because you love Pomle so much?

Salii laughed. Orjin himself chuckled; even he, a lifelong inhabitant of Pomle, would never claim it was anything but rugged.

The Drake caught her breath.

I really meant it, Orjin. I have to do it here. Here or something almost as challenging or Ill never level up again. [Hour of the Secretary]. Have you ever heard of it?

Orjins ears perked up. He had little interest in the many things Salii did, but a Skill? He shook his head. She elaborated as she found some tea and poured him a cup.

Its a famous Skill among my class. A Level 50 capstone Skill. Ive heard you can get it as low as Level 40, and there are numerous applications. I know someone who can use eighteen minutes of it. Free time, to organize, plan, even on a battlefield.

A powerful Skill.

Orjin didnt whistle or sound amazed. He had known more impressive, but neither did he take it anything less than seriously. He just imagined how it would work, the ramifications in a battle. Even he could use it well if he observed a foe

Saliis next words made him nearly crack the delicate little cup.

My Level 50 Skill was different.

The Strongest of Pomle glanced up. Salii had her back to him. She glanced over her shoulder.

Throw the cup at me?

Orjin did. Gently; he was fairly sure he could hit Salii, whatever she wanted to show off or not. The [Secretary] spun, and her clipboard hit the cup. It bounced back at Orjin, nearly twice as fast.

He actually caught most of the tea back with it. It was the same trick shed done when hed fought the Shame of the Wind or whatever that fool had been. Hed thought it had been a fairly good defensive skill for a [Secretary], but now he realized it had a bit more power than hed thought.

[Spiritguard Deflection]. I could probably block one of Cheins punches. Just one, mind you. But it recharges pretty fast and it works with my clipboard.

Orjin was impressed. Alsovery confused.

That is anexceptionally poor Level 50 Skill. Even for a [Secretary].

Salii snorted.

Thats not the Skill. [On The Job Training For Services Rendered].

Thats a lot of words.

Orjin was trying to figure out what it meant. Then his eyes snapped together. Did she mean?

Salii winked at him.

I earned one free Skill from my work here already. Two Skills from my previous job. Pomle has to be a success or I wont ever learn [Aeriform Punch]. Or your fire Skill. Id quite like that. Imagine dealing with someone demanding an appointment with that?

She smiled beatifically at the thought. Orjin was just stunned. Free Skills?

You didnt level up to gain them?

Nope! Theres a separate notification. Skill awarded. Like I said, Orjinpowerful Skills. I came here to get stronger. And what better nation, I thought, than this one? Mind you, if Id known the King of Destruction would wake up, I might have gone to him.

Salii sighed. Orjin had a lot to process, but his first thought was that this was manifestly unfair. The [Secretary] just chortled as she poured herself a cup of tea.

Orjin, I took a small company in the Walled City of Salazsar from actual bankruptcythats a Drake term for having no moneyto being one of the most competitive companies in the entire Walled City. Although they just had to squander it by losing all their good [Miners]will you let me work now? I promise youyou wont have to abandon your training. But I have big plans for Pomle.

He looked at her. At last, the Strongest of Pomle sighed, and held out a hand. He shook her claw.

As you wishStrongest of Pomle. Ive been defeated. Ill tell them to challenge you tomorrow.

Saliis face went blank. Then worried. Then she saw Orjin smiling. She laughed as he chuckled to himself. They had an accord.

And that was two weeks ago.

Orjin stared at the new feature of Pomle that Salii had put into motion. Duunab, the [Geomancer] who had fled Tiqr, rubbed his hands together with extreme pride.

Salthorn, Xil, and all the [Martial Artists] had gathered when it had first begun construction. They had been turned away. Now? With the opening of the new part of Pomle?

Salii was smug as could be.

Geomancers. Best class in magic. Dont argue with me.

Duunab bowed in her direction. Orjin had to admit, Salii might have been right. It had been a stroke of fortune a Level 24 [Geomancer] with extensive rock-shaping proficiency had landed in Pomle. However, as Salii pointed out, a single [Geomancer] still labored to do any large-scale projects.

Her Skills and the power of lots of money and organization had provided for more experts, including [Miners] among the refugees, [Builders], and simple paid labor to move dirt and stone into place to help this part of Pomle happen.

The canyon around Pomle would expand in time. Salii had shown Orjin a plan to change the geography to be three times as large. However, this first installment was simple, and again, based off of something Iratze had suggested.

The others had called it ridiculous, too much like stories, or as one of them had whispered, anime. Orjin had no idea what that meant.

Rock spires. Fifty feet high, narrow. You fall, you die. Or learn how to fall. Heres a cave with a [Darkness] spell cast on it. Its a lot wider than you think. We probably need to make sure people know how many people there are inside. And this is going to be where we get an [Aeromancer].

Salii was leading the tour group around. The first area consisted of vertical rock spiresas well as poles of wood or metal, suspended high off the ground. Althoughthere was no helpful body of water at the ground. Salii had an option on [Featherfalling], but in deference to Salthorns complaints, youd have to buy or procure your safety net.

There was a huge underground cave for blind fighting, and Salii had even installed tightropes and rope bridges across Pomles canyons, to provide alternate places to train. However, that was only the start.

She was showing Pomles warriors the huge, sandy expanse outside of Pomle. Salii was excitedly talking to Salthorn.

Why an [Air Mage]?

Well, itll be an expensive enchantment, but I hope we can make one we dont have to upkeep. Itll blow sand.

Just that?

Of course. A natural sandstorm, oh, thirty miles wide? Anyone who wants to train in that, be my guest. And if we really get enough magic and a power source or natural ley-line, well have a [Gravity Mage] set up a spell. Apparently thatshow some martial artists train?

Salii glanced at Orjin, who shrugged. It was conceivable, butboth looked at Raul, who slapped his forehead.

Which of you told them about that? We dont do that! If it doesnt work, you morons

What do you think, Master Salthorn?

Itsdifferent. You have to choose to train there, but Ill admit, you can experience things we couldnt before. Not bad.

The Selphid was grudging. She turned to Orjin and Xil.

The problem is, its still something you can choose. Part of levelling is not having a choice.

Well have to make up for it with diversity, then. Harder training. If the Strongest is for itis there more than just terrain, Orjin?

The Garuda commented. Orjin nodded. Surprisingly, the challenges had stopped once he announced he and Salii would work together. Everyone had waited for what theyd do.

There will be. It will be a choice, but we will learn more. Such as instructors.

Instructors? For us?

Someone called out. Salii grinned.

Of course. Pomle is full of [Martial Artists]. But what if I paid for a [Pyromancer] to come here for six months and throw [Fireballs] at anyone who asked to practice evading them?

Dead silence. Orjin smiled. Practicing against spells was difficult. After a second, one of the [Warriors]a Stitch-girlshouted nervously.

Only if you pay for an Amulet of Fire Protection!

That was the first time anyone had willingly engaged with one of Saliis new plans. She beamed. Shed done it. Once one [Martial Artist] asked for something, another asked if she could create a cold zone, since they were practicing cultivating a fire aura. Someone else wanted a [Blacksmith] to buy weapons.

Pomles prosperity was at hand. Of course, as Orjin had commented, they had no actual products. Salii had bought some cash animals, and they had an oasis with better-than-average water supply thanks to the gem shed gotten from Fetohep of Khelt, but where would the money come from?

Wellthe underground fights. Almost exclusively, actually. Salii had told Orjin no less than a hundred gold pieces were gambled on any given fight. Even with a tiny cut of it, Pomle had a huge budget for projects. Given that Salii was not spending it on much else, and her own Skills, she could make things happen.

Opportunity attracted travellers, people seeking a job, people that Salii reached out for. Orjin watched Pomles population explode, again, but contented himself with just waiting. It might be for the better, after all.

And thenwell.

Then the first aspiring [Martial Artist], an aristocratic Stitch-manStitch-boy, almostfrom Nerrhavias Fallen moved into one of the new homes. He had private instructors of his own, but had come here to learn from Pomles best. He had an entire caravan of servants from his royal house, but dreamed of being a true warrior, like the famous Prince Zenol, the Gold-rank adventurer who had made his name in Izril.

He settled in, with grumbling from some [Martial Artists] who still disliked Pomles path, reservations from those who thought hed never truly learn and level with that kind of wealth, and a note from Salii to Orjin about complications. He thought little of it until, as he was drinking water, he noticed.

As one of the few wealthy people to ever try to live in Pomle, the young man was the first to bring [Slaves]. The Strongest of Pomle heard the rumblings from warriors from beyond Chandrars sands.

Complications?

Indeed.

The outsider was always at a disadvantage when it came to being respected. Liked? You could be liked, a novelty, but that was completely aside from garnering admiration. It was a thin coin that separated novelty from mockery. And both could turn into genuine hatred if the outsider stepped wrong.

Why are you doing things wrong?

Why do you look wrong?

Of course, sometimes the questions revealed in and of themselves. Neverthelesswhen public opinion turned against you, it was a long way to any kind of social grace. If that was what you wanted. If it mattered.

In any other time she would have damned the praise and antipathy alike, but Nsiia needed popular support. She had burnt it away, all the fascination for the exotic empress, the peoples interest in her as a representation of the wild, and everything contrary to their cultureat least, in their mind.

Neverthelesssweat ran down her cheeks, onto, yes, clothing. A light, sleeveless tunic far richer than the occasion needed. Like Orjin, Nsiia was well aware of how fast you could tear up good clothing. Not much protection, but she had no need to be a spectacle at this moment, and besidesher feet traced left on terracotta bricks in the beautiful little courtyard

Even wooden blades could tear open bare skin at this level.

The jeering in the background became silence. Perhaps the onlookers fell silent themselves. Nsiia didnt pay attention.

The other foreign warrior was quick when he came in. As light as she wasalmost. [Cats Grace] was one of Nsiias Skills, but she had many.

She was [Empress], but also warrior. She was both. She was more than a mere ruler with low-levels and she had fought on battlefields. She was a contemporary of the King of Destruction, and even if she had missed much of his first wars of conquest, Nsiia Oliphant was still

[Empress of Beasts].

Two shortswords and a dagger. The third arm had disconcerted her at first, but it had a lot of limitations. It wasnt as if the Antinium could slash through his other arms; he added an attack when he swung left, jabbing with his third arm. She responded by merely ducking away, her single practice sword flickering.

Nevertheless, he was quick! He pressed his attack, carefully stepping in, and it was a fascination to both.

He fights well! Nsiia had met many [Warriors] who were strong, could swing a sword or axe just so, block wellbut had the kind of mentality suited for a massed battle. She could take them apart because when it was just them, they were not ready for her leaping off walls, circling, kicking sand into their face.

Ksmvr of the Free Antinium had trained somewhere. He swept towards her, able to pivot back when she tried to engage him, daring her to come too close.

He did not get overeager, and his swordsmanship was strong. Nsiia hissed as his [Quick Slash] scored a line down her arm. He had a decent number of [Warrior]s Skills too. That would have laid her arm open in a real battle.

NeverthelessKsmvr charged at her. She stabbed forwards with her sword. Saw him blur left and over her in a jump.

[Evasive Flip]. He actually slashed down at her mid-flip. She responded by rolling herself, stabbing up. She hit his stomach but it was like a rock.

Ring of Barkskin. Adventurers.

When he landed, he charged, and he was faster still. [Surpass Limits]? [Quick Movement]Nsiia grinned. It would kill most warriors not used to fighting him, especially with enchanted blades. Her response was to tap the ground with her feet.

[Gazelles Leap]. Ksmvrs charge and blades struck only air. The audience gasped as Nsiia leapt across the courtyard. Some of the [Guards] stirred; the Golems did not. Nsiia caught herself.

Her watching was done. Her offensive began.

[Elephants Strength]. The temporary Skill was a hallmark of her level. Even [Enhanced Strength] fell behind this Skillfor a few minutes. Eight, to be exact.

She only needed one. Nsiias posture shifted down, down. The Antinium, watching her, thought it suddenly mimicked her cat, Yinah. Orsomething else.

[Furious Hunt: Hyenas]. The Empress stalked across the courtyard, circling, far faster than that posture should have allowed. Ksmvr thought he saw other shapes, like her, in his peripherals. He ignored them as an illusory manipulation, until it occurred to hima fraction too latethat if it was part of the Skill

Nsiia exploded out from the side, snarling like the embodiment of a wild animal. Her slash came as Ksmvr was turning. His right arms sword was knocked clean out of his hands by the tremendous impact. He swung left, trying to get back

She rammed into him, and stabbed him through the heart and chest. A killing blow. Her blade continued to stab, as the two landed, tangling, Ksmvrs green blood spattering the ground

In what would have happened if they actually had swords. Ksmvr lay on his rounded back shell, staring up at the sky. Nsiia, smiling, offered him a hand.

Well fought, Adventurer Ksmvr.

To a certain degree, perhaps. I am still insufficient. Your sparring with me indicates how little attacking power I possess when deprived of my crossbows.

She raised an eyebrow, amused. Ksmvr let her help him up. He stood, inspecting the place where he had fallen. He should have kept moving. Perhaps even leapt into the air, although she would have targeted where he landed. Next time, he would not be taken in by a strange Skill.

Many in Tiqr would consider themselves lucky to force me to use three Skills.

I am a Gold-rank adventurer. I am deficient. You outmatched me even in speed, which as a [Skirmisher], I should excel at.

The [Empress of Beasts] raised her eyebrows. Even her eyes were almost closer to feline than Human, or gave the impression. Everything about her could be like a wild thingand then she would straighten, accept a cup of water from one of Illiveres servants with a nod, and become a person once more.

She was both. The bridge between animal and people in her kingdom. Or had been. She studied Ksmvr, thoughtfully.

You are slower than me. Your skill with a blade is quite adept.

Thank you for your compliment, but you and I both know I am quite substandard compared to any acceptable reference.

Nsiias eyebrows shot higher. She opened her mouth, thoughtfully, but then forbore comment.

As you say, Ksmvr. If you say it, it must be so.

The Antinium nodded, happy she could understand. So many people insisted on false compliments. It was an illustrative practice match, as the last three had been. That was the level Ksmvr aspired to. Nsiia might have been awell, perhaps a match for Yvlon! Maybe a tiny bit higher-levelled.

Only then did the two return to the world where other people existed. Nsiia and Ksmvr heard the murmurs, and saw the crowd watching through the iron fence outside of Femithains mansion murmuring and pointing.

They have stopped shouting insults at you, Empress Nsiia.

So they have.

The woman eyed Illiveres people, many of whom returned the look with sincere hatred. Her gaze was amused, but then she turned to Ksmvr.

Insults at you as well, Adventurer Ksmvr.

He shrugged politely. The Antinium adventurer regarded Illiveres people, who gave him looks ranging from uneasy to fascinated. His voice rose, carrying slightly so the guards attending both him and Nsiia as well as Illiveres citizens could hear.

I am not the person who slew Domehead, who was beloved. I defended myself as per the Adventurers Guilds laws, Rule #6, regarding self-defense when attacked with no legal basis. Any ire against me regarding my destruction of Golems is largely unfounded, as Magus-Crafter Femithains statement indicated. Therefore, I have actually calculated that I am more liked than not based on my last five days of observation. Statistically, I have a 58% approval rating. Which is more than yours. 36%.

Nsiias head cocked sideways. She eyed Ksmvr, perturbed. So did Illiveres citizens, many of whom had drawn breath to contradict the Antinium. They looked at him, and it was a familiar gaze to the ones Nsiia had first received when she had become prisoner of Illivere, over a month ago.

Fascination. The [Empress] eyes narrowed slightly. That was not how Ksmvr normally talked. She had not known him for more than five days, but he stood, wiping dirt from his head, mandibles, and body as he talked. When he finished, he stood tall, brown-black chitin gleaming in the sun. Ksmvrs head turned to her with precise, stiltedno.

Golem-like grace. He nodded at Nsiia.

As we have concluded our sparring for the morning, shall we retire to Magus-Crafter Femithains residence, Empress Nsiia?

Of course, Ksmvr. After you.

There was a certain charm to how Ksmvr walked. The Magus-Crafter of Illivere appreciated it as Ksmvr walked with him around the city. It was not appreciable at first. For many, it did not even occur to them until they looked at Ksmvr and compared it to themselves.

He had a deliberate, measured tread. He did not vary the length of his stride. Nor did he change it depending on whether he turned right or left. He walkedperfectly.

It was something any Antinium who had lived in the Hives could do. Ksmvr did not normally walk like that, since walking was normally variable to account for changes in terrain. Unless you had an environment as precise as the Hive, he did not walk like that.

He did now, slowing, stopping, turning with precise movements. The Magus-Crafter himself admired it. So did the citizens.

He walked like a Golem. When Ksmvr spoke, it was often with figures and facts, in logical parlance.

I appreciate your accompanying me to the Adventurers Guild, Magus-Crafter. Free reign of the city allows me more opportunities to appreciate Illivere.

His words were measured, polite. Diplomatic. Femithain was conscious of the stares, some hostile, some curious, but Ksmvrs figures to Nsiia had not been exaggerated. Hostility had quickly changed to fascination. He had killed many Golems, but Illiveres people had done a curious about-face mentally.

Ksmvr could be the hostile alien from far offbut if he was, he was a superior enemy. However, if he was a Gold-rank adventurer, and positively Golem-like himself, it didnt sting so much to admit that all the Golems had lost to him, surely? Femithain nodded to Ksmvr as Armsmaster Dellic kept most of the curious at a decent distance.

Of course, Adventurer Ksmvr. You need not inform me if you wish to leave the residence.

And as to my request about leaving the city?

The man shook his head slightly, adjusting his spectacles.

It is still a delicate matterbut I am now confident many nations will not have you imprisoned or killed. The bounty remains, however, and given the Antinium Hives warning towards Illivere, I am reluctant to place you in jeopardy.

Ksmvrs presence had alarmed the other powers of Chandrar. They reacted in paranoia, despite knowing he was an adventurer. Was he a spy? A forerunner of another Antinium invasion?

Most had calmed down, but a few nations had issued bounties on Ksmvr. Wellthat was one thing. Femithain was not responsible for that.

However, the Antinium Queens had apparently threatened him and all of Illivere with dire consequences if Ksmvr came to harm. Thus, the Magus-Crafter was now caught in the position of fearing for Ksmvrs life. He had insisted Ksmvr remain until one side or the other relented.

Hm. This is not what I wished. I shall abide another day, then. My destination is here, Magus-Crafter.

I do apologize, Adventurer Ksmvr. But if you would like to avail yourself of Illiveres sightsthe First Crafters have all issued invitations, including the First Crafter of Elbe who wishes to make amends.

Ksmvr turned his head to Femithain. His mandibles rose in what the man now knew to be a smile. Ksmvr shook his head.

No, Magus-Crafter Femithain. I would like to leave. My team needs me. I shall meet you at dinner. Farewell.

With that, he turned and strode into the Adventurers Guild. Fascinating, aloof. Femithain was not the only person to stare after him.

Yvlon had once said that a good adventurer behaved politely and tried to engender respect from all sides. If they had to take sides, they did, but an adventurer was neutral.

Ksmvr had thought hard after hed realized his captivityalbeit a polite onein Illivere was more difficult to deal with than he had anticipated. He had tried Captain Ceria and Pisces approach, which was bluffing and deception combined with an expression of dominance.

That had failed rather significantly, so Ksmvr took Yvlons words to heart.

If you must be anything, be fascinating rather than a nuisance, Ksmvr. Ylawes team eats for free because people like him. Thats better than having the prices tripled just because people know you can afford it.

Ksmvr had weighed the merits of Yvlons words against his own understandings from being taught as the Prognugator of the Free Antinium and thus implemented his new actions, such as walking differently, speaking with facts and figures to impress Illiveres people and the Magus-Crafter, all of whom liked Golems and related actions. It created goodwill.

He had, of course, considered Pisces words of wisdom against Yvlons.

There are fools in every land, young and old, Ksmvr. Ignore them. Do what you must, and hang their feelings. They will never love you for simplybeing. Why pander fruitlessly and humiliate oneself?

There were contradictions in the advice given, clearly, but Ksmvr considered it was situational which of his teammates was right at any moment. They had stopped throwing things at him, but not Nsiia, since he had adopted this approach, so he considered Yvlon was right. For now.

What would Captain Ceria say, though? She was actually more sparing with advice than Pisces and Yvlon, both of whom often took him aside to impart their vast troves of wisdom to their junior teammate. Ksmvr tried to think as he approached the counter of the rather empty Adventurers Guild and the staring [Receptionist].

Always have a snack, Ksmvr. Some long-term food. Likea stick of butter and honey rolled with a bunch of walnuts. Tastes great. Dont listen to Yvlon. Thats food for a day if youve got nothing left. Bugs dont have much energy.

Could he extrapolate that to be a commentary on the exigency of always having a backup item or plan? No. Probably not. But it was still committed to Ksmvrs impeccable memory.

Y-youre the um, Gold-rank. Im the [Receptionist]. Not that Illivere has many adventurers, but youre

The woman at the desk had a very similar reaction to many Humans. Ksmvr politely nodded.

I am Ksmvr, Gold-rank adventurer of the Horns of Hammerad, a team from Izril. My credentials are registered worldwide. I am happy to prove I am Ksmvr via truth spell if identification is needed.

The Stitch-girl stared at Ksmvr, mouth moving slightly.

II do not think I needthats necessary.

Hm. Shoddy Adventurers Guild, as proven by their lax regulations. Nevertheless, Magus-Crafter Femithain had assured Ksmvr they could do the basic work.

I have come to claim damages for my destroyed gear. Magus-Crafter Femithain has arranged this?

Yes! I meanyes. Do you have the um, items?

Ksmvr nodded. He reached for his side and brought something out.

A broken shortsword. The enchantment was gone, and the steel weapon was in two parts. Ksmvr looked at it as he put it on the counter. Then the Flamecoat Dagger. His Cloak of Arrow Protectiona crossbow

His beautiful, lovely gear that the [Brave Skirmisher] had maintained for so long was in ruins. The [Receptionist] got over her nerves to exhale quietly.

Thats a lot of gear, um, Adventurer Ksmvr.

It was all very low in magical interference. I would like to note that in my damages claim.

Ofof course. Could I ask you to list the items for me? Please?

Naturally. I have a Shortsword of Hardening, a Cloak of Arrow Protection, a standard crossbowplease note Izrils market prices at the time, and the steel frame as opposed to other materialsa Flamecoat Dagger

His hand touched the Flamecoat Dagger. Of all the items, that had distressed him most. Ksmvr had broken his weapons against the Golems, against Domehead in the Testing. He had seen his shortsword break, one of his crossbows, and the other Golems had damaged his cloak.

The dagger? He hadnt realized it was broken until he had reclaimed his gear and noticed the chip along the blade. Accordinglythe flame effect was gone.

Pisces mattered. That he was a slave of Roshal? Ksmvr received the news in the morning and thought about it. Roshal, a world power, denied any arguments that would lead to releasing Pisces.

Therefore. Ksmvr asked to visit Elbe that morning. It was one of two changes. Magus-Crafter Femithain assented, of course. He presented Nsiia with another ultimatum then.

A collar. You intend to make a [Slave] out of me, Femithain.

The [Empress of Beast]s voice was flat. Femithain did not meet her eyes.

You are not a [Slave]. But Nerrhavias Fallen has seen how free you are for a prisoner.

This was true in technicality. She would not be a [Slave].

But it was a collar. A gilded one. A[Slave]s collar. It had come from Nerrhavias Fallen. Femithain gestured to it as it lay on his desk.

They do not trust you to remain an amiable prisoner, Nsiia. Your people lie in the steppes. An army led by your [General]. You, with your Skills, could well escape.

Nsiias eyes flickered. She could not deny it without lying to Femithian. All she said was

You do not have to do this, Femithain.

It is only a collar, Nsiia. It will not restrict your Skillsonly detect your location. If you leave Illivere, it will paralyze you. I hope you do not. That would lead to

Her hand struck his desk like thunder. Everything went flying and Dellic rushed in, sword drawn. Nsiia had crushed the desk.

It is a collar and you know it! Look how luxurious they made it, Femithain. It even has Nerrhavia Fallens sigil!

She pointed at the gold and jewels.

So the world knows who truly owns me. No wonder they are content to let me live here! I will never take it off. You dont have the key.

Ksmvr, listening to the loud argument while pretending to still be in his rooms, heard Femithains quiet reply.

I do not. It will not be removed. I do not believeI could. Not without a great artifact. Nor will I try. You knew you were a prisoner, Nsiia. You had to make a statement for all to see on the scrying orb.

Silence. The Magus-Crafter went on.

Nsiia. You will not be taken to Nerrhavias Fallen. But the royal palace will not accept anything but this, and this is the least of what they demanded.

It will never come off. Could you not have asked for cuffs? I would have removed my hand.

I know. Nsiia. Do not

The [Empress of Beasts] howled like the very kingdom that had fallen. Ksmvr did not put his hands over his earholes then. He only did after the shouting had ended, Femithains battle with Nsiia, the Golems and other guards had brought her down as she tried to flee the city.

They dragged her back, and the sound she made then as they forced the collar over her was a howl of despair. A weeping cry for Tiqr as hope died.

Somewhere, the Siren of Savere laughed to see it. All Ksmvr knew was that he sat in his rooms as Yinah howled, hands over his ears, the last trying to pet her as she bit his hand.

Nothing to do with him.

Nothing

Nsiia did not journey to Elbe, in the days afterwards. Or the other states. Ksmvr tried desperately to get Femithain to petition Roshal, to find legal recourse, but he received news of Pisces auctioning as he toured the states, trying to win over friends.

She did not spar with him. She sat, light gone from her eyes, fingers around the collar. She had tried to break it, of course.

[Elephants Strength]. The might of the [Empress of Beasts], tools stolen from Femithains workshopall had failed. Nerrhavia had put a final collar on the Empress of Tiqr that could not be removed unless they had the key.

Both Ksmvr and Femithain did not speak of her. Ksmvr did not know what to say. He could think of many things to say to Femithain, and nearly did. But he considered, when he looked at the Magus-Crafters expression, that Femithain was already hearing them.

Good.

It was the second visit to Elbe. This time without Femithain. Ksmvr had done the big dinner with the First Crafter and while he had been invited to her residence againmostly to discuss a new Hammera from one who had beaten the Golemhe did not have the Magus-Crafter.

Ksmvr had been here a week. A week. But he was still under a bounty from Roshal of his own, and he had been trying to help Pisces via Femithain.

The Magus-Crafter had tried to bid on Pisces, but had been forced out of the auction in the first ten minutes. Rich he might beit was nothing compared to the Naga.

The Antinium had delayed forcing the issue because he was still working on Illivere. He had things to do.

The angry crowd at the Testing Grounds had shouted at him, despite no Testings going on. Domehead was still under repair, but Femithain had said hed be on his feet any day now. Ksmvr decided to postpone any visits there.

Nevertheless, there was still a commotion following the Antinium. As he shut himself in the dark room, he stood quite still. The intelligence inside the room was amused.

So how does an Antinium of Rhir come here? I cannot imagine the First Crafter of Elbe was so careless. I have heard of you, Ksmvr of Izril.

The [Skirmisher] slowly rotated. He turned from the door where a furious argument was emanating from. And there it was. She was?

A Golems head, lying on a pedestal. The great secret of Elbe. The terrifying, smilingOracle of Elbe.

He said nothing. The Oracle looked at him. She, who had plagued countless First Crafters and the Magus-Crafters of generations, a relic from ages past, laughed softly.

Are you surprised, Antinium? Come closer. Do you wishto know something? Ask. Perhaps I will answer.

But what truths might a Golem this old tell? What false answers, or half-truths, or worse, simple facts that could destroy nations? Ksmvr made no move.

I am content to wait here, Oracle of Elbe.

The Golems head paused. The voice was steady. Did the Antinium not find her disturbing?

Really? Then you surely have a question if you have sought me out.

She smiled. Ksmvr checked the door. Then he pulled something out of his belt pouch. The Oracle hesitated. Was thatan hourglass? Ksmvr put it on the floor.

No. I am just here to wait out the duration of this hourglass. By my calculations, seven more minutes should be appropriate.

The Golem blinked. She hesitated.

You dont have a question for me?

Ksmvr glanced at her.

As I understand it, you are a malignant Golem with dubious information sources dating back to the old Golem empire. Any information you give me is highly suspect. However, the prestige of having spoken to you is quite considerable, especially if I intimate that I have learned something. I am content to stand here, thank you.

He folded his arms. Then reached into his bag of holding and took out an orange. He began to peel it. The Oracle of Elbes mouth moved.

Prestige? You cant do that. You must have some question. Youre an adventurer. Dont you want to know where buried treasure is? I can tell you a secret of golem-making.

Ksmvr popped the first orange slice into his mouth and nodded, clacking his mandibles happily.

Highly suspect. If you had not bartered away all useful information, Oracle of Elbe, I would still doubt your sympathy towards any member of Illivere. I will accept that as an Antinium and unbiased outsider, I may be worthy of some sympathy. In which case you will furnish it to me without pretense. That you did not the instant I entered this room means you are a manipulator. If you have something to tell me, I will listen, but any attempts to obfuscate are pointless as I do not care and my objectives are already accomplished in merely entering the room.

The logical, carefully-reasoned statement was Ksmvrs attempts to win more favor among Illiveres ruling class. The Oracle opened her mouth, glaring mightily, and Ksmvr interrupted her.

Also, if you attempt to deny or even tell the truth regarding my actions here, no one will believe you given your reputation as a liar. So, by attempting to disparage me to the First Crafter of Elbe or those who follow after, you only help me no matter what you say, if only nothing.

He chewed down another orange slice. The Oracle of Elbe opened and closed her mouth, clearly trying to work out the best way to hamper him given his line of thought. In the end, she snapped.

Get out and dont come back.

Ksmvr checked the hourglass.

In three more minutes. Thank you for your time.

I cannot deny the fact that a powerful Gold-rank team willing to excavate in the name of Illivere is apowerful allure. You have many qualities of Golems yourself, Adventurer Ksmvr.

Thank you, First Crafter of Elbe.

Please. Call meInerta. We are certainly more than acquaintances, arent we?

Ksmvr nodded. The woman with Golem-arms and he were in private discussion. She was dithering.

It is just thatRoshal? A dangerous foe to irritate.

Mercenaries are easily deniable.

The First Crafter bit her lip.

So they are. So they are. It is an intriguing offer, Ksmvr. But if it does come back to Illivere

I remind you, First Crafter, that Magus-Crafter Femithain himself produced Domehead perhaps as a result of his participation in the Tiqr war. He risked his life, and the levels may have resulted in the creation of a Sentience-class Golem. It follows that risk is necessary for progress. Logically.

Logically. Yes. So fascinating. Are all Antinium like you?

The First Crafter flitted around her room full of schematics and designs for Golems. She truly was a [Golem Artificer] as much as a ruler. He considered his response and wondered if he was being flirted with.

The First Crafters and other powerful Crafters of Illivere found Ksmvr fascinating, but they were frustratingly hard to commit to any serious course of action. He had only today to finish his plans. So, Ksmvr rose, and delicately took a miniature Golem, half-made. He held it as he stood next to Inerta, looking at a telling tapestry in her personal rooms.

A Truestone Golem, Cognita, perhaps, idly posing upon a throne while people of various species performed Golem-like tasks. It lookedalmost identical to sketches of the Truestone Golem at Wistram that Ceria had shown him.

But Ksmvr didnt recall the haughty, bored expression on Cognitas face. He glanced at Inerta. Telling indeed. She must have commissioned an artist to create this scene; he could not imagine it was drawn from life.

The Antinium have many qualities I find in common with Golems. Perhaps this is a strength the Hives and Illivere share. I find myself impelled to press my case, First Crafter. I hope the strength of my arguments will sway you.

She turned, and Ksmvr adjusted his posture to be as perfect as the little Golems he held. She smiled, uncertainly, but with that interest of someone willing to push all limits.

Ksmvr really hoped he wasnt being flirted with. He was also aware of adventurer relations with clients from discussions with other adventurers like Crossbow Stan, and how this could create a net gain or unfavorable situations. He had been advised to avoid seducing anyone, and he feared if he got to that stage with Inerta, he would be physically incapable of success.

Crossbow Stan had many words of wisdom regarding where an adventurer should sheathe his sword, or how many candle wicks to light, and when to charge the dungeon. It had taken Ksmvr quite a while and Comrade Pisces help to figure out these were metaphors.

Ksmvr stayed late at Elbe. For many reasons. What had Crossbow Stan said when he decided Ksmvr was an up-and-coming lad who needed some advice?

Ah, yes. A smart fellow always has a second crossbow quarrel ready to go.

The Antinium stopped, by midnight, at the Testing Grounds. He stared into the empty pit. Well, almost empty.

The [Guards] were still there, but the [Skirmisher] was able to avoid their gazes quite easily. The Golems would react if he got too close, but the principal Golem was standing in the pit.

They had reinforced his dome. Colored it topaz for some reason. Given him a complete redesign.

Domehead had been a foe that pushed Ksmvr to his limits before. This time? Ksmvr saw the feet theyd added to the Golem, the war-class armor, the enhanced spells built into his body.

This was not a Testing Grounds Golem, but one which Illivere had poured its considerable technological prowess into. No unenchanted battleaxe, but one with properly deadly enchantments; a glowing Force Axe that could send foes flying. His armor had multiple enchantments written into it, and Domeheads interior brain of crystals shone brighter than ever.

They were still loading countless new commands into him. Not just fighting routines, guarding ones, patrol, attack, defense, counter-spyeverything.

He would be the first of a new generation of Golems. But perhaps the greatest; Femithains prodigal son. He would never break again if the Magus-Crafter could help it.

Yet Domehead stood so still. Ksmvr had heard Crafter Se worrying to Femithain something was wrong. He moved when they told him to, executed all commands flawlessly, and still displayed the lateral thinking; he could do what all other Golems couldnt.

One sign of this was simply giving Golems a locomotion task they werent made for. Likewalk in a wavy line rather than straight. Unless explicitly programmed, Golems could not do it.

Domehead could. Yet he did not do anything when he was not ordered to. In theory, he could think, albeit limited. He just didnt show it. In war that might change. In battle. They were going to test him out on foes, train him.

Ksmvr watched the Golem, now nine feet of death, holding the battleaxe, the only source of bright light in the arena. The [Skirmisher] pondered his journey.

Negotiations were complete. He had wasted enough time.

Now. Now was the hour. He was sorry about Nsiia. But Ksmvrwell. She had the collar and Tiqr was far away.

The Antinium bowed his head. This next part might be unexpectedly hard. He had hoped theyd finish Domehead. But time? Alas. What had he said to Nsiia?

For my team. What would I do?

And of course, the answer was simple. Domehead, frozen in place, suddenly moved. The guards, watching him idly, saw the lights burn in his crystal brain. The Golem whirled, axe rising. He took a stepfalteredand backed up a step.

The Antinium leapt over the first balcony and into the seats of the arena. There were shouts and Golems came to life. A bow-wielding Golem trained a bow on him, but Ksmvr dove as shouts identified him.

Its the Antinium! Hold fire! Hold

Ksmvr landed in the arena. His boots struck the ground with a thud. The [Guards] and [Golem Artificer] on duty froze.

Its the Antinium! Hes in the arena with Domehead! Call the Magus-Crafter! Call

The Humans froze. What was Ksmvr up to? Was it a rematch? Was he testing Domehead?

Surely not. Yet as they panicked, unsure of how to remove Ksmvr without injuring him, they realized Domehead was not in danger. The huge Golem had been rebuilt. And Ksmvr had lost his enchanted weapons.

Unlesshis Skill? Horrified faces looked down. Either a diplomatic incident or another tragedy. But why?

Domehead had raised its axe to shield its chest and lower half of its domed head. It remembered Ksmvr.

You are called Domehead. Do you know me? We fought once. A regrettable accident.

Ksmvr called out. He spread his three arms to show he was unarmed. Domehead did not lower the axe. But it did step forwards.

Danger. Ksmvrs instincts shrilled at him. The Golem was clearly hostile. Ksmvr held up one hand higher.

I am not here to battle you. I am not your enemy. Do youunderstand me?

He took a step forward. Instantly, Domehead swivelled left, dodging in a pattern as his axe moved, threateningly. Ksmvr halted.

Was Domeheadnervous of him? The motion was aggressive, but it was a defensive position. He turned, calmly.

I am not here to damage you, Domehead. But I need to do something.

Antinium! Do not move! If you attack Domehead, we will restrain you and cannot guarantee your safety! The Magus-Crafter demands you leave the arena and then state your intentions! At once!

Ksmvr looked up slightly. A [Guard] was aiming a crossbow at him. But he was no Crossbow Stan. Something else the old adventurer had once said to Ksmvr rang true.

Ive got a family, Ksmvr. A family. I cant let em down. So. A good adventurer makes all the profit they can. But they never forget whos waiting for them.

They were waiting for him. But would Stans family wait forever? Ceria had surely made provisions. But Ksmvr had never

He looked up at Domehead. The Golem was tensed, lights flashing. Would it attack?

Someone cares for you. You are Sentient-class. I know you are capable of thought. How much? Do you understand me?

The Antinium was reflected in the glowing glass of the dome. Ksmvr pointed at Domehead, slowly. The Golem flinched.

Someone rebuilt you. You have someone who will wait for you. Yourteam.

A pulsing little light lit up a tiny crystal in the side of Domeheads brain. Ksmvr was fascinated. He could see a divergent thought in the Golem. And then the Golem slowlynodded.

The arena was silent. The [Golem Artificer], Crafter Se herself, was tearing at her hair, almost weeping aloud, but muffling it. Ksmvr smiled.

Yes. You understand me. Good. Everyone must have a team. Someone to protect them. Therefore

He took a step. Domehead fell back, but it was assessing Ksmvr. The axe came out of its guard-position, warily. Yet Ksmvr, like someone invading the den of a wild animal, refused to back up. His voice was measured. He pointed at Domehead.

I am not here to harm you. I do not wish to. You have a purpose. So do I.

He walked towards the edge of the arena, the very place he had come from. Then his head turned. Slowly. He addressed Domehead.

Do not force me to destroy you.

Domehead froze. Because, of the many things it was learning, thinking, in this momentit was analyzing Ksmvr. AndDomehead had no real concept of truth or lies yet.

Nevertheless.

It did not think Ksmvr was lying.

Uproar in Illivere. The First Crafter of Elbe was shouting at him. Crafter Se was shouting at him. Femithain heard an admission of guilt, of conspiracy. But he barely heard them.

He was racing towards Ksmvrs position on horseback, and Armsmaster Dellic and every Golem, [Soldier], and [Mage] he could muster were hot on his heels. Yet they had to keep adjusting their position because Ksmvr kept racing forwards.

He was heading back towards Dellva after setting the entire state of Elbe ablaze. Not only had he leapt into the arena, done something to Domehead, but hed seized the Golem Horse assigned to him and was racing back without his escort.

Why? Femithain had heard mixed reports from the Testing Grounds. Crafter Se had said something about Ksmvr doing something where hed first appeared, in one of the cells, but then she had shouted about Domehead running amok and had gone chasing after him.

Femithains mind could come to a few conclusions about what Ksmvr had been doing. He had been rallying support across Illivere for his team. Now he had acted.

But what had he needed to go to the Testing Grounds for? Well, Femithain suspected, but first he had to catch Ksmvr.

Ksmvr!

The Antinium was racing across the ground, on the back of a Golem Horse. Femithain shouted at him to stop. In response? Ksmvr just changed directions and raced around the wave of people trying to slow him.

[Light Nets]! Slow him! [Sticky Webs]anything!

But the Golem Horse!

Femithain saw one of the [Golem Artificers] pale at the thought of damaging one of the last Golem Horses. Femithain cursed, took careful aim at Ksmvrbut the Antinium dodged the [Paralysis Bolt], swinging low on the saddle. He raised his Forceshield as he surged towards Dellvas walls, and caught another spell.

Adventurer. Illivere had a lot of [Mages], lower-level [Warriors], and Golems. It was a powerful army, but it was an army when all was said and done, used to engagements, not chasing a single Antinium [Skirmisher] on horseback.

They did a splendid job of getting in each others way. And by the time Femithain realized hed made a mistake and was racing back to the gates, Ksmvr had already leapt over the wall.

The Empress of Beasts was smiling when Ksmvr entered the mansion. She was sitting in his room. He looked for his possessionsshe pointed to them.

If you came to free me, you were too late, Ksmvr.

She sat, calmly, the gold collar around her neck. Ksmvr studied her. He picked up his remaining belongings, his map, his carefully-prepared provisions, and addressed her succinctly.

You seem calm, Nsiia.

I will be free one day. All my plans fall to naught. But I will be free. I will not crawl to Nerrhavias courts to beg Yisame. But someday, someone will break this chain.

The Death of Chains?

Nsiia laughed.

Her? I didnt even think of that! No. I meant someone who could shatter this bond. You know who I mean. Flos Reimarch. He swore to liberate Tiqr. Well, he will have to break this with his own two hands.

Ksmvr studied her. He nodded slowly. Yinah yowled. Ksmvr adjusted his belt, and looked out the window. Already Femithain and his guards were flooding back through the open gates.

It is time for me to go, Nsiia.

Then go. Find your team, Ksmvr. I am sorry I had little to offer you.

Bitterly, Nsiia looked up. Ksmvr bowed slightly. He and she exchanged some last words.

Then he walked out of Femithains mansion.

How much did he really know Ksmvr, after all? Femithain had no idea. The Magus-Crafter had seen his sides. From the qualities that so inspired Illivere, to the parts Nsiia had found in common. His rational, cunning mind. His childish dreams.

Now? He saw Ksmvr the Gold-rank adventurer. Ksmvr, of the Horns of Hammerad.

The Antinium was covered in light from torches and [Light] spells as he halted in the courtyard outside Femithains mansion. He looked around, calmly.

Golems and Illiveres warriors surrounded him in almost equal measure. Armsmaster Dellic had his best [Soldiers] armed with shields and swords protecting the [Mages] aiming wands and staves at him, but it was the Golems who should terrify.

Femithains personal bodyguards, with shields and weapons. Golems with bows, capable of slinging massive arrows across vast distances.

Even the Golems that never left Illivere. Protector-Golems from older times like the Purifier.

Dellvas Lantern-Sentries, ceramic Golems holding magical lanterns that patrolled at night stood with simple canes, batons that matched their gentlemanlyor gentlewomanly designs. Complete with splendid hats and old, fashionable garb. The paint had worn away, leaving them pale and white.

In older times, they had tricked [Rogues] and [Muggers] and proceeded to beat the hell out of them and kept the peace. In this era? They could defeat Level 30 [Warriors] who were incautious and they were tough as steel.

An army of Golems and people. Yet Ksmvr walked out into the spotlights and halted. His voice was loud. Fearless.

I am Ksmvr of the Horns of Hammerad! Gold-rank adventurer of Izril!

The people stirred. The Golems did not. Ksmvr looked around, his eyes catching the light.

I have committed no actual crime. Your paranoia may be understandable because I have acted in strange ways. But without legal recourse, I choose to treat this gathering as a threat, which may be actionable legally, but is without actual grounds.

Femithain saw Armsmaster Dellic glance his way. The Magus-Crafter called out.

Ksmvr! I asked you to remain in Illivere. Your departure will endanger my nation, and as Magus-Crafter, I cannot allow that.

My death will endanger it further. So your army has strict orders not to kill me, Magus-Crafter. You cannot intimidate me. FurthermoreI have acquiesced with your will so long as it suited me. But you have not imprisoned me. I am an adventurer. And now, I choose to go.

Ksmvr looked past them. If he broke free, he might well reach the gates before all but the fastest could grab him. And they did have orders not to harm him.

Femithain shouted.

Ksmvr, we cannot allow that.

The [Brave Skirmisher] slowly swung around. He met Femithains gaze, behind the two bodyguard Golems.

You are trying to hold me against my will, Femithain? Then I will defend myself. I do not wish to. I am stating here, for the record, with you all as witnesses, that when I slaughtered you, I gave you full warning.

The Humans and Stitch-folk started. They looked at the huge Golems, and at the single Antinium incredulously.

Femithain? Femithain felt a twinge of unease. But it was one Gold-rank, alone. He hesitated, but someone called out.

Armsmaster Dellic. The man had a sense of the moment. Of the event. He did not have a great command of words, sadly, because he chose to invoke the wrong event.

Is it war, then, Ksmvr?

The Antinium stared at Dellic blankly. The confident [Armsmaster] waited for a witty response. He did not get one and faltered. At last, Ksmvr chuckled. He reached for his side.

For the bag of holding. Femithains eyes locked on something Ksmvr seized. And the pieces connected.

Ksmvr, the survivor of the Village of the Dead, had turned up here with only his gear. He had no objects beyond a traditional adventurers gear. But surely, given all the Horns had done

They had all seen how the Horns went into the center. For what? Glory? No. Treasure. Femithain had been there, with Nsiia, and he had not believed Ksmvr had left empty-handed.

He had not believed it, in truth. But he had held his tongue because Femithain was not a [Thief]. He had wondered how Ksmvr would have hid such a priceless artifact, though. Nowhe knew.

The Testing Grounds. It had occurred to Femithain that Ksmvr had appeared in one of the cells. Before he left, if he thought he might lose what he carried, if he was afraidmaybe he had buried something? Rather than even risk it in battle? That his team might recover it, even if he died.

But what had he hidden? If he had not unveiled it, even if he trusted Femithain and Nsiia, it had to be something valuable. So valuable Ksmvr would only recover it now, fearing [Thieves] or it simply being seized.

Slowly, slowly, the Antinium called out to Armsmaster Dellic.

War, Armsmaster? You cannot survive my war.

He unveiled the thing he had taken from the Village of the Dead and the people froze. Even the Golems paused.

In the chaos of the flight from the Putrid Ones greatest servant, what would you grab? A spellbook? Rings? A scroll? Whatever you could lay your hands on? A circlet?

The object rose in Ksmvrs hand. Femithain stared, uncomprehendingly, as the magic began to burn his eyes behind the spectacles. Dellic turned pale.

In the last minute of the great [Paladin]s life, as she faced down her death, she had not reached for her weapon. Mainly because someone had run off with it.

The [Paladin]s sword burned the instant it met the air. Ksmvr remembered the moment. The Dullahan woman had turned and grinned at him.

Take it.

The radiance hurt the eyes of all who saw it. Except his. A terrifying glow. A weapon from a different era.

The death of the Putrid One. Agift.

Stand aside or perish. This blade was meant to slay monsters, not you.

The people and Golems both fell aside. Ksmvr walked forwards. He strode past Femithain, then stopped. Came back.

My thanks, Magus-Crafter. But from here on out, my team is my goal. If you stand in my way, we are enemies. Please remember that. I know you have a good memory. I will only go to the border with the horse.

Then he leapt away, sword glowing in the night. Femithain stood, speechless, as the Gold-rank adventurer departed the city.

Ksmvr raced over sand with the Golem Horse, knowing that behind him lay chaos. He had almost debated leaving the sword where it was. It was too grand for him. Yvlon deserved it, or Pisces, perhaps.

He would be pursued, but his enemy was Roshal. He needed the blade.

The Antinium was headed west, on a direct course after Pisces. He had thought about Yvlonbut Pisces was in the most danger if he was right. Ksmvr had heard Roshal was abad place.

To the west lay Tiqr. To the southwest, Savere, along the coast. Further still, and his target, the caravan where Pisces was held captive. So it made sense Ksmvrs movements could be anticipated in some ways. Anyone heading to Tiqr or Roshal would take the same path.

Nevertheless. I am a bit displeased.

The Antinium slid from the back of his Golem Horse. The glowing-eyed, ceramic beast was not comfortable to ride. Ksmvr would move fast on his feet, anyways. He let it trot back the way it had come.

Illivere probably had ways to recall it, anyways. Then the [Skirmisher] turned.

A panting mare let a figure slide to the ground. Then Ksmvr heard a meow. He stared accusingly at Nsiia of Tiqr.

Why did you bring her?

She came along. I thought youd come this way.

The [Empress of Beasts] returned Ksmvrs glare. The [Skirmisher] saw her eyes lock onto his sword. She stared at it, even though she had already seen it.

I thought you said that you would not aid me, Ksmvr of the Horns of Hammerad.

She still looked confused. Ksmvr huffed.

I hoped you would cause sufficient distraction for me to make my escape. I did not anticipate us taking the exact same escape route. You will go that way, and I will go that way. I do not need to be caught up in your affairs.

He pointed northwest, while he took the road. Nsiia didnt budge, so Ksvmr flapped all three hands.

Shoo. Shoo.

Yinah leapt down to nuzzle his leg. Ksmvr bent to scratch her behind the ears. Nsiia studied him.

You didnt explain fully why, at the time.

She touched her throat. The collar was gone. It could have held a lesser Djinni, but the sword had sliced through it, of course. Ksmvr admired the blade. Not silver. Actually, goldish, except for the edge. It had a dark stain, even now. The Putrid Ones blood? He had managed to get it to stop shining so brightly.

He glanced up. Nsiia was waiting. After a moment, Ksmvr straightened. His reply was simple and easy.

I thought of my friend, Pisces, wearing chains. I found it abhorrent and applied the same logic to you.

He began to walk past Nsiia. She waited, but that was all there really was to it. Why did he free her? Why?

Orjin. Orjin.

It was the same voice. That was not surprising. The fact that it was the same tone was surprising. Just like every other time.

Not worried, just a bit vexed. A bit annoyed. Orjin tuned out the shouting. The shattered armor. The people being picked up.

The others were watching. From Salthorn to Xil. Some looked disturbed. Others, calm. Others didnt even care.

Salii, the [Secretary] of Pomle, looked at the Strongest. Orjin calmly snapped the last binding on the leg. The [Slaves] looked at him.

Why did you do it, Orjin? You didnt give me any warning.

Her tone was level. The Strongest looked at the Drake.

For all this time, youve asked me what I wanted. What I would do, what I willed. I never told you anything because I never wanted anything. I was happy with some changes. Not with the others. I didnt inform you about this because Ive always done as I thought I should.

He looked at the fleeing Nerrhavias Fallen group, and the people whom he had freed. Salii tilted her head, smiling.

Can you explain it to me, again? I think I know.

Orjin exhaled into the night air and shrugged, as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary.

It offended my sensibilities. That is all.

It was the same kind of answer, said two ways. The why was easy. The how was pretty easy too if you had a magic sword.

Ksmvr began jogging off. Nsiia followed him, scooping Yinah up as the mare groaned and plodded after them.

Go away. I am trying to rescue my team.

What if we went together? Femithain will conflate the two of us. You freed me.

No I didnt. Yinah freed you.

She laughed. Ksmvr sighed, but he didnt scare her off. And the word spread. An adventurer had freed the Empress of Beasts. A foreigner from distant lands with a magic sword.

It was going to cause a lot of trouble. Ksmvrdidnt really care. Someone had once said there were consequences for actions and that was true. It might be war and consequences. So what?

Theyd have to catch him, first. He began running, and the [Empress of Beasts] leapt into the saddle. A cat yowled as the two began to race over the ground, to what really mattered.

They only slowed when they realized they were being pursued. Ksmvr looked back. He was sure hed established sufficient dominance this time! Moreover, their breakneck speed had outdistanced anyone but someone on a Golem Horse of their own.

Orsomeone relentless enough to run the entire way here. But how had itheknown they were here? Ksmvr checked his sword. Nsiia spun.

Is that?

Domehead slowed when he saw Ksmvr. He had not been expecting to see Ksmvr. Ksmvr had not been expecting to see Domehead.

Nsiia was flabbergasted. She looked at Domehead, not able to comprehend how this had happened. Ksmvrs mandibles opened and closed.

I told you I would destroy you if you attacked me. Is that what this is? I thought you had ateam

He looked up, suddenly. At the figure on horseback. The woman stared at Domehead, and Ksmvr. Even the cat caught on before she did. Then Nsiia reeled.

But I struck him down! I

Domehead trotted forwards slowly. He looked at Nsiia, the lights flashing in his head. The axe was strapped to his back in its holster. He did not reach for that. Insteadhe raised his hands and took a familiar fighting stance.

It floored Nsiia. She looked up at Domehead, staggered as if the Golem had punched her.

Ime?

A little light glowed in Domeheads mind. Ksmvr saw tears spring to Nsiias eyes. She touched her chest, took in a shuddering breath.

II am a fool. A terriblefriend? Mentor? A worthless woman to look up to. A betrayer. A

Domehead stood there, indicating he disagreed. Anyways, Pisces sometimes said that too, and Ceria. Ksmvr felt a kinship with the Golem, and tapped Nsiia on the shoulder. They had to keep moving. This wasprobably going to cause more trouble.

The [Empress of Beasts] started as Ksmvr indicated the way ahead.

You are not a terrible friend, Nsiia. Come, come. And hurry up. Not a horrible ruler. Just a bad mother.

Then he kept running.

-

Domehead was gone. Ksmvr was gone. Nsiia had fled.

Three disasters for the price of one. All interrelated. He saw that now. What Magus-Crafter Femithain thought, in his light-headed state, as he stumbled through his home, was how connected it all was.

Like a Golems circuits. One provoked the other. Had he not seen it?

Yinah was gone too. For some reason, that disturbed him most of all. He thought of the little cat, and could focus on missing her more than

Domehead. Why had he gone? Of all of them, Crafter Se, who had slept in the arena to fix him? Armsmaster Dellic, whom Domehead had also learned from? Femithain had given Domehead life.

Yet it was Nsiia. Femithian thought he understood why. It had not just been the Magus-Crafters logic and Skill. Perhaps the Empress of Beasts had helped create Domehead more than he ever knew.

Alive.

Femithain stumbled, and nearly fell as his walk took him past his office. Not to his desk, not in the dark mansion. He had tripped over something.

A broken collar. He looked at it, and then kicked it aside. Femithain walked on, blindly.

Alive.

He was chuckling, laughing softly. A quiet hysteria. Understandingsomething.

At last, the Magus-Crafter stopped. Not in his workshop, not in his office filled with papers and the affairs of state. These were not the places that drew him. It was just a private room, in his mansion, where Nsiia and Ksmvr had never intruded. They probably thought it was abandoned.

And how not? He knew them. They knew him. But only for a short time. Femithian himself had never entered this room for the last two years. Hed justforgotten.

Yet it was cleaned of dust. The Magus-Crafter looked around. He had been preparing to show it to someone. It was justa thought. Now, he knew why.

They taught Domehead how to fight. Gave him routines to protect, defend, even bow and repair himself. Dellva, Illivere, had been abuzz with dreams.

Teach him to learn. To overcome! To lead? For a Golem such as him, he would not have to be taught pre-programmed actions. He would learn. Had Crafter Se dreamed of?

He did not know. The Magus-Crafter sat at an object in the darkness. He had wanted to take his creation here. His son.

The harp was free of dust, and the enchantments kept it tuned. Femithain plucked at the strings, hesitantly, then remembering. It was a pointless room, or had been.

You did not play music for Golems. They could not appreciate it. Femithain sat in the dark room, bleeding, though he had not been struck. Murmuring the word.

Alive.

He realized the irony, why the Oracle of Elbe laughed. The living were sohard to predict. You could not control them. Femithain looked out the window.

The day I made him, he was not mine, but yours, Nsiia. Take care of him.

Then he rose to follow after.

Authors Note: I am still sort of sick? I dont actually know, but Ive observed that thought-cohesion is still harder and Im just not sharp.

Sort of likea stick of butter compared to Ksmvrs new sword. Even tangentially, being under the weather isnt great for writing if you dont have multiple drafts.

However, the chapter is shorter! And done! And thats what matters, right? Theres big news coming up. Did you not see that trailer? Ill ask you to spread the word to make the Kickstarter a success closer to the date because if it does, I can do more comics and projects!

AlsoFrench translation for The Wandering Inn! Multiple languages! Hurrah! It fits so well with the story, you see, where theres onlyonemain languagewhich is explicitly English

Its just great to have another way for people to read the story that wouldnt ever normally find it. I hope to one day have lots of translations, but finding people willing to translate 8 million words and not charging uh, by the word, is tough. Nevertheless, Im excited for the future! And getting to maximum health. Thanks for reading and see you next time!

Stream Sketch by Artsynada!

Instagram: /illudanajohnsCommission /OmNDuK8.jpg

Lyonette and Mrsha, and Ivolethe and Ryoka by Dube!

Emir Riqres Prisoners and FurFur the Hated by LeChat

DeviantArt:https://www.deviantart.com/demoniccriminalKo-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/lechatdemonStash with all the TWI related art:https://sta.sh/222s6jxhlt0

Riqres Prisoners