Mana Soul: Chapter 38 - The Inventor - Markus

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Unsure of what he had expected, Markus was finding it hard to accept his current circumstances. Far from the utopic afterlife espoused by the clergy of the divinities, Markus was laying in a goose down bed staring at the ceiling. “I am not dead?” He croaked in amazement. Now aware of the stiffness in his muscles, Markus tried pushing himself up into a sitting position but fell back into the bed as his left arm refused to support his weight.

Glancing around his surroundings, Markus found that he was in a lavishly decorated and furnished room. Far beyond what he had ever experienced before, Markus intuitively understood that this had to be a noble’s estate or manor house at the very least.

Made quite uncomfortable by that latest revelation, Markus pulled the blankets away and rolled off the bed. Intending to at least land on his hands and knees, Markus’s body was too stiff and he fell flat on the floor instead. “Ow...” Groaning breathless as he tried pushing himself off the floor, Markus heard muted voices from the adjoining room and heavy footsteps coming closer.

Before managing anything more than rolling onto his back, the door suddenly opened and four people rushed into the room.

“Markus!” Aela bounded across the room and swept Markus up into her arms, nearly crushing his ribs in the process.

“Too...tight...” Markus gasped, although he was glad she was okay.

Aela loosened her grip slightly but didn't let him go. “I’m so sorry! I should never have left you there! I came back for you as fast as I could...but...you weren't breathing, they...they said you were dead!” Her grip tightened again and he could feel her trembling in fear.

“I was dead?” Markus asked quietly, only vaguely remembering his final moments inside the wyvern’s stomach. Saying the words aloud, Markus felt they were true, but he was clearly alive, wasn't he?

“Gas poisoning,” a familiar female voice chimed in eagerly, “You breathed in too much of the flammable gas. Having listened to the full accounts of what happened after you were exhumed from the wyvern’s body, I am confident in that assessment at least,” Tina stated matter of factly.

“Gas poisoning?” Again, the words sounded right to Markus, “But how-”

“-How are you alive?” Tina asked with a smirk, “It appears that there is some merit to the sappy melodramatics of modern playwrights. Upon hearing the army surgeon's pronouncement of your death, Aela threw herself on your cold body wailing and pounding on our chest. In so doing, she very likely saved your life, albeit at the expense of breaking a few ribs,” she paused and giggled a little at that, “By beating your chest, I believe she drove the gas from your lungs and gave you a chance to breathe clean air again, literally saving your life.”

Aela had stiffened at the mention of her striking his lifeless body and seemed to shrink back from Markus as if she was expecting him to be angry.

As sore and abused as his body felt, Markus hadn’t noticed any broken ribs and considering he would literally be dead if it weren't for her, there was no way Markus could be angry with Aela. Hugging her back as tightly as he could with his right arm, Markus was just happy Aela was alright.

“Ah, Tina, I know there are things you wanted to talk about with Markus, but I think we should leave them alone for a bit,” Phillipe suggested tactfully.

Tina snorted and stomped her foot, “Hrmph, fine!” She relented and allowed Philippe to shepherd her from the room.

“They kept saying you were going to wake up, but I was so worried!” Aela groaned anxiously, burying her face in his chest.

Markus rubbed her back reassuringly but wasn’t sure what to say. He was awake now, but could only imagine what it must have been like for Aela not knowing if this day would come.

Aela maneuvered them onto the bed without letting him go. Thinking that perhaps she was going to take this opportunity to push their relationship further, Markus steeled his nerve and hoped she would at least be gentle. The radical difference in their strength and durability left Markus with a distinct possibility of broken bones if Aela was anything less than gentle with him.

Contrary to Markus’s expectations and to his immense relief, Aela was content to be held and lay her head on his chest as Markus stroked her back. They passed more than an hour or so like this before Aela reluctantly pulled herself away.

“While you were...asleep,” Aela winced slightly as she said that, “Your golems tried to contact you,” she withdrew his tablet from her pocket and offered it to him, “I heard the chimes, but couldn’t find their messages.”

Curious, Markus accepted the tablet and cautiously began reading through the messages. His expression quickly escalated from concerned to extreme distress. Their home in Endem had been attacked less than two days ago.

There were literally hundreds of messages sent from Dolly, Hector, Leona and Peabody over the course of the day. The first messages were sent by Dolly to inform Markus of suspicious persons the golem had seen through one of the open windows while playing with Arlee. Shortly afterwards, Leona and Hector both confirmed sighting the same group, attaching black and white pictures of their faces. Next, the pair of larger golems shifted to a more proactive observation of the street and alleyways. They soon discovered no less than a dozen malingerers who persisted throughout the day.

It was at this point that Peabody began sending messages to inform Markus of its intended action to reinforce the house with additional golems. However, before the golems could arrive, Leona, who was performing reconnaissance outside of the house, came under attack in the alley behind the house.

Judging by the accompanying messages and images, the initial skirmish was probably intended as an attempt to capture Leona for interrogation. However, as Leona began tearing her way through its would-be kidnappers, the opposition began calling in reinforcements. Instead of killing five men and returning to the house to await further instructions, the protracted engagement turned into a bloody meat grinder. Leona had killed forty-three people by the end of the day’s hostilities and sent the accompanying portraits of each man and woman’s face it had killed as it dealt each killing blow.

While Leona was being attacked in the alley, others had tried breaking in through the front and back door but were ultimately unsuccessful. Unfortunately, Markus had not afforded similar precautions to the windows and at least a dozen masked men managed to scale the walls and force their way in from the second floor.

Hector and Dolly moved Arlee and Abigail up to the attic, supposedly explaining the situation to Thyra, Beowulf and Skadi. While searching for Arlee and Abigail, the intruders broke into Anabelle’s room. Alerted to the position of the intruders by Annabelle's screams, Dolly left Hector to hold the attic and descended the stairs to hunt the intruders alone.

To look at the battle from the diminutive golem’s perspective was bizarre. Surrounded by giants, Dolly was vicious in neutralizing its targets. Using what appeared to be a separated pair of scissor shears, Dolly mercilessly stabbed and slashed at the intruders while leaping about like a cricket. To see the ghostly visage of Dolly reflected in one of its victim’s eyes as the golem dove toward them with bloody sheers was haunting. There was even a small series of pictures sent by Hector from its vantage on the stairs that showed Dolly climbing an intruder's body by using the shears as if they were climbing picks and the golem was scaling a mountain. The pain and abject terror on the man’s face was very difficult to look at.

By the time Peabody's intended reinforcements arrived, what remained of the enemy was in full retreat. Leona had taken a number of prisoners, although some of them died from injuries while the golem was otherwise occupied with fighting. After employing what was only described as effective interrogation techniques, two of the golem’s prisoners gave up everything they knew about why they were attacking the house in the first place.

They were not simply common street thugs, they were far too well equipped for that. As confessed mercenaries of the Shadow Moth band, the tattoo of a black moth on their right forearm made them easy to identify when the golems knew what to look for. As Markus was well aware, mercenaries did not come cheap and of course one of Leona’s captives was only too eager to give up their employer. Baron Auguste.

Markus had already known that Arlee was the illegitimate child of a connected noble, Abigail had already told him as much. The healer at church hospital had said something similar as well. However, neither woman had the courage to tell him exactly who it was.

Peabody’s final message had stated that the golem was looking into baron Auguste to better understand the threat he presented.

“What are you going to do?” Aela asked anxiously, She had probably not been able to keep up with Markus’s reading speed, but the pictures from earlier combined with the final messages still displayed on the tablet were rather telling. Someone had attacked their home, now what was Markus going to do about it.

“I don’t know,” Markus admitted, “It is painfully clear now that the guild chapter master has not kept his end of our bargain. Keeping Arlee safe was the main reason I made that deal with the guild in the first place.”

Aela wrinkled her brow for a moment, “I thought the special permission was the main part of the deal?”

Markus shook his head and sighed, “That was the very least the guild could do. In fact, they used that premise to place Anabelle in our home to spy on me.”

“Really?” Aela’s brow furrowed in anger, “That woman was sent to spy on you?”

“That is what the guild very likely intended,” Markus admitted irritably, “I permitted it because I thought the guild would at least be paying more attention to possible threats to my life and that of my family, clearly that is not the case!” His fists were trembling in barely suppressed anger.

Aela appeared unsure what she should do. It was her first time seeing Markus worked up like this.

“Peabody! Reduce our provision of golems to the guild down to the absolute minimum. Do not renew the contracts after they expire! When the guild approaches us to expand into the great valley and other territories under our control, refuse them!” Markus stated each matter with cold fury.

When Markus was finished, the tablet in his hands chimed to indicate a new message had arrived.

[Peabody: “It will be done as you command, Benefactor. Regarding the matter of Baron Auguste, I must recommend caution at this time. Preliminary investigations strongly suggest that the baron is an influential member of the royalist faction in the southern kingdom’s court and has many allies. Attacking him openly would almost certainly invite calamitous reprisal.”]

Markus gritted his teeth and seethed. This was one of the biggest reasons he hated nobles. Their privileges and alliances made them very nearly untouchable unless you were determined to lose everything for the attempt.

Very likely, the whole attack on Markus’s home would be swept under the rug. Or perhaps worse, the baron or his lackeys would insist that the kidnappers were innocent bystanders cut down by Markus’s retainers and demand compensation.

“Bastard!...” Markus growled impotently, keenly aware he was unable to do anything against the man who attacked his home. “I want Arlee, Abigail and the chimaeras moved out of the house and on their way to the castle under heavy guard as soon as possible!” All he could do at this point was minimize the danger and withdraw.

[Peabody: “As you command Benefactor.”]

Tossing the tablet onto the nightstand, Markus rubbed at his temples to try and ward off the oncoming headache.

Aela gently rubbed Markus’s back reassuringly, “It will be alright,”

Markus sighed and visibly deflated as he let go of his anger.

“Soon you will have your own country and no one will dare attack your family,” Aela insisted, drifting her hand around his chest and drawing Markus in closer for a hug.

Markus leaned into the embrace and tried not to dwell on the fact that threats on his life would probably only increase once he claimed the great valley. Markus needed an army to be able to take and hold the great valley against not just the monsters, but the nobles who would greedily try and steal it from him. That was his reasoning for producing the golems, after all. A powerful fighting force that would be loyal to him alone. However, golems took time to make and mana to function. Assuming they were in active duty, Markus knew that with only Endem serving as a renewable mana supply, only a handful of golems would be able to be consistently deployed for protracted engagements.

Similarly, while the chimaeras would undoubtedly help protect Markus and his territory to a point, they were far too few to accomplish much trying to defend and monitor such a large border and territory. The chimaeras would also be busy trying to establish themselves and Markus felt it would be in poor taste to demand they serve as his army given that their species was already on the brink of extinction.

A sudden epiphany left Markus in a daze. The solution and the problems were one and the same. Markus was vulnerable because he lacked powerful alliances and a private army. The baron had used mercenaries to strike against Markus because they provided plausible deniability and insulated the baron from the legal ramifications for his actions, albeit at a higher cost than using his own soldiers.

Until Markus had the infrastructure in place to support an army of golems, he basically had two options available to him. The first was to hire a company of mercenaries of his own. Expensive and loyal only to gold, mercenaries were not a viable long-term investment for defending his prospective territory. However, mercenaries would already be reasonably well trained and have an established command structure, making it relatively simple to make the mercenaries do what Markus wanted. Acquiring a mercenary company would also be rather simple, so long as Markus had the gold to pay them there would be no shortage of mercenaries willing to sign a contract of employment.

The second option was far more interesting if a great deal riskier in the level of unknowns it represented. Essentially, Markus could make his own monsters. Using the same method which he used to create the mana generating slime golems, Markus could attempt to replicate monsters normally created by the dungeons. Unlike golems that only consumed mana, replicated monsters would also be capable of generating it.

One of the unknowns that gave Markus pause, was not knowing whether intelligent monsters could be controlled. The slimes were incredibly simple-minded, barely sentient and carefully designed to respond to particular stimuli in order to be controlled. Markus was not confident in being able to control more intelligent and self-aware monsters. Unlike chimaeras who have hundreds of years of traditions, history and cultural customs, the replicated monsters would have nothing Markus could tempt them with that he would not have to first deliberately withhold from them. It was pretty obvious to Markus that something like that wouldn’t end well and would most likely anger the chimaeras if they found out about it.

This left Markus with few options, most notably replicating monsters with low or animal intelligence at most to allow for better control measures. Although it didn’t seem ideal, it was actually not that bad an option. Markus still remembered how close he had come to being killed by the giant wolf outside of his first dungeon and he genuinely doubted a trained soldier would fare well against something with that much raw power.

It actually raised an interesting idea. Markus had not considered treating the replicated monsters like animals. At different points in human history, mankind had domesticated all manner of animals, including wolves. How had they done that? Markus heard various stories about how an enterprising shepherd had acquired wolf pups through one means or another and then raised them to maturity. Knowing only the shepherd and trained to respond to his commands, the wolves were then turned on their own kind. Over time, selective breeding accentuated traits humans valued such as loyalty and cooperation, all while eroding the wolves independence.

If Markus could emulate the domestication process, wouldn't that make replicated monsters a viable option for supplemental auxiliaries? Markus would definitely give the matter some serious thought. With a pet monster like the giant wolf, Arlee would still be protected if the golems depleted their mana against adventurer level threats.

Both mercenaries and replicated monsters had their own merits, so Markus decided to at least give them both a decent trial run before committing heavily to either.

“Feeling better?” Aela asked warmly, reminding Markus that he had been silent for quite a while.

Nodding, Markus sighed and gave Aela a thankful squeeze.

Although initially somewhat surprised, Aela didn’t let the opportunity go to waste, hugging Markus tighter and drawing him in closer for a kiss.

Wary of her teeth, Markus did his best to return her affection without shredding his lips. After a couple of minutes and sporting only a couple of small cuts to the tip of his tongue, Markus got up off the bed with Aela’s support and stretched his stiff muscles. “I really need to stop becoming bedridden,” he mused aloud with a smirk.

Ignoring his self-deprecating humour, Aela heartily agreed, “You really do. I think you should begin training more!”

Markus flinched but nodded in agreement. Carefully making his way over to the door, Markus prepared himself for what was almost certainly going to be an uncomfortable conversation. It wasn’t that he disliked talking with Tina, far from it, Markus actually felt quite happy when talking to her about enchantments and other things related to Artificers. The problem was this time Tina’s previously extended offer would very likely dampen such an exchange.

The room beyond looked like some sort of waiting room. Although there were a number of doors leading off to other rooms, the centre of the large room had a couple of couches and armchairs positioned opposite one another.

Unsurprisingly, Tina was sitting cross-legged on one of the couches and sketching feverishly on a drawing board. She was surrounded by crumpled and obviously discarded balls of paper. Completely oblivious to his presence, Markus was able to walk up right behind Tina and get a good look at what she was sketching without her noticing.

Markus was stunned. Tina had drawn detailed perspectives of what appeared to be her plans for a horseless wagon and was in the process of applying additional details. The design of the steering system was truly ingenious. Through connecting gears attached to a fifth wheel like that of a sailing vessel, the front wheels would be shifted left and right to direct the wagon.

Tina’s current design for the horseless wagon was incredibly similar to what Markus had observed in the horseless carriage. However, the primary difference was that Markus could now see the detailed internal workings rather than just the final product.

Tina suddenly sighed and stretched her shoulders. When she noticed Markus, it startled her into almost leaping off the couch.

“Sorry,” Markus apologized awkwardly. He hadn’t meant to startle her.

“Ah, no, it's okay!” Tina replied awkwardly, “I was waiting for you to finish resting like Phillipe asked anyway, so I thought I would work on some designs.”

Markus nodded, “The horseless wagon looks promising,” he said encouragingly.

Tina’s smile wavered and she glanced uncertainly at her work, “You really think so?”

“I do,” Markus insisted, “But if I can offer a suggestion?”

Tina nodded and waited for Markus to continue.

“Have you considered an enclosed cab for the driver?” Markus asked, pointing to the front of the wagon with the steering wheel. “If it had an enclosed cab like a carriage, it would protect the driver and cargo from the weather, animals and bandits.”

Tina was somewhat surprised by the suggestion but gave it some real thought as she began making preliminary sketches. After a few moments, she held up her latest sketch, “Something like this?” She asked.

Tina had sketched what looked like a larger second wagon bed turned upside down on top of the first, giving the wagon a somewhat turtle-like appearance.

Markus nodded, “If you put a ballista on it, you would really give monsters and bandits something to look out for.”

“Huh,” Tina tilted her head slightly and nodded, “I hadn’t thought of that, that’s not a bad idea! Why not? Right? I mean the firing platform is already there.” Tina quickly began work on a fresh cross-section sketch with a small person manning a ballista mounted on a rotating swivel protruding from the roof of the wagon.

More or less what Markus had suggested, he was surprised by how adeptly Tina had brought his recommendation into reality. “Do you have many sketches like these?” He asked curiously.

Tina was in the middle of sketching what appeared to be an orc getting festooned with ballista bolts and had not been paying attention to what he said, “Huh?” Tina asked somewhat distractedly.

“Do you have many sketches?” Markus repeated patiently.

“Oh!” Tina suddenly leapt off the couch, scattering her sketching materials across the floor as she quickly darted off into one of the adjoining rooms. A few moments later, Tina returned with a large leatherbound book that was easily two and a half feet tall, just as wide and a few inches thick. Tina pressed the book into Markus’s hands with an excited nervous enthusiasm, “This is my portfolio of inventions,” she explained anxiously while motioning for Markus to take a look inside.

Markus spent the next few hours shamelessly pouring over the inventions in Tina’s book and committing as many of them to memory as possible. He was convinced that Tina was a genuine prodigy. Granted, most of her inventions were heavily reliant on both mana and skilled artificing, but the potential gains in productivity were amazing. Tina truly pushed the limits on what magic fuelled industry was capable of, or at least that's what Markus had thought.

“I wish gramps thought the same as you do,” Tina sighed dejectedly, “He won’t support any of my designs! Gramps just complains that they would be too difficult to keep running. I don’t know if you knew this or not, but before the appearance of your Artifice Invigoration Station in Endem, rival Artificers charged a fortune just to spite each other.”

Markus nodded, he had known that. The rivalry between Artificers from different noble houses and families is what made Markus’s artfice such a success. Even though Markus’s price was by no means cheap, it was peanuts compared to what Artificers considered a fair exchange for their time and mana.

“I want them,” Markus stated confidently.

“Huh?” Tina was confused, “What are you talking about?”

“I want your inventions,” Markus clarified, “So I will support your research and experiments.”

Tina’s eyes grew wide, “Really?!”

Markus nodded, “Your skill in inventing things is something I need. Even though I have read various books and treatises on production artifices, I can only copy them. What I need is someone like you Tina, who can imagine and design new artifices.”

“I accept!” Tina agreed hastily, “No take-backs!”

“Of course,” Markus agreed with a grin.

A door on the far side was very nearly flung open and Hilda entered in a huff, “Tina! Wasn’t Phillipe telling you to being leaving Markus to rest!” She scolded heatedly in fractured use of the southern tongue.

Tina shrank back and raised her arms defensively, “I did! I was! I swear I was just sketching on the couch!”

“Is this true?” Hilda asked Markus and Aela.

Markus nodded.

“Markus asked to see her drawings,” Aela confirmed with a somewhat bored shrug.

Hilda settled down a little but still didn’t look happy, “The healers said you need rest-”

“Markus has had plenty of rest already!” Aela interrupted sternly, “He needs exercise!!”

Hilda looked like she wanted to insist but bit her tongue, “At least do not stray past the inner walls of the keep,” she suggested tactfully. “There is no guarantee of Markus’s safety on the streets of the city with so many southern nobles stirring up trouble.”

Raising the issue of his safety reminded Markus of something important, “What happened to the soldiers?” He asked, closing Tina’s sketchbook and handing it back to her. Markus couldn’t remember what happened exactly, just bits and pieces. He remembered the wyverns strafing the camp with fire, soldiers burning and the screams of the dying. “What happened to Sven? The quartermaster I was riding with,” Markus vaguely recalled the quartermaster protecting them both with his shield but not what happened afterwards.

“Sven? Uh,” Hilda looked a little worried and embarrassed, “Do you perhaps know his rank? Or mothers name?”

“He is alive,” Aela interjected uncomfortably, “They...they did all they could for him, Markus. But his legs...his legs were just too far gone...”

Markus now remembered what happened and felt incredibly ill. “I...I need to go see him,” he croaked dryly.

Aela helped Markus to his feet again, very nearly carrying him as she led Markus through the small maze of corridors and stairs until exiting the keep.

With Hilda trailing along behind them at a respectful distance, the myriad of servants and soldiers kept a wary eye on them but stayed out of their way. It wasn't until Aela had brought Markus to the keep barracks that he realised they had made the trip barefoot.

The barracks had been converted into a hospital for treating the surviving soldiers of the wyvern attack. Frozen into inaction at the entryway, Markus was surprised to find so few survivors. Each and every one of them had bandages wrapped around different parts of their bodies, and all too many were missing one or more limbs. The only soldiers not grievously injured were those currently visiting injured comrades.

Moving through the barracks, Markus was surprised to find that most soldiers' injuries had been magically healed to one degree or another. “You employ Priests to heal your soldiers?” Markus asked, surprised that nobles would willingly part with so much coin.

“Ah, normally no. This is an exception,” Hilda explained somewhat awkwardly.

“It was Zoe,” Aela added dryly, “The one we saved from that dungeon remember? Well, her and her aunt.”

“They insisted on helping and agreed not to charge a fee, so we gladly accepted...” Hilda stated somewhat guiltily, “But...uh, they kind of insisted on staying in the keep until it was finished...”

“They tried breaking into your room, twice,” Aela growled icily.

Hilda gulpd dryly, “That was just a misunderstanding...Lady Chavare had discovered Lord Markus was injured in the ambush and wanted to make sure he was alright...”

“In the middle of the night?!” Aela seethed angrily, “Wearing only that...that thing!”

“Nightgown?” Hilda offered meekly.

Aela glared daggers at Hilda in response.

Markus’s opinion of Zoe Chavare was heavily conflicted. Treating the injured soldiers was an admirable act, trying to break into his room in the middle of the night...it was certainly a dubious one for sure.

Catching sight of Sven, Markus dropped the matter of Zoe's questionable motives and tried to decide what he was going to do.

Before Markus could organize his thoughts, Sven noticed Markus and began trying to push himself up into a sitting position on his bed.

An older man with greying hair and a young woman were both standing by Sven’s bedside and gently trying to keep him laying down.

“Lord!” Sven called out across the room, bringing the bustling barracks to a sudden halt as everyone's attention gravitated towards Hilda. The soldiers who were already on their feet snapped to attention and saluted.

“As you were,” Hilda announced dismissively.

Only Sven and the two people beside him continued staring in Markus’s direction.

Realizing he didn't have any more time to think about what to say, Markus made his way towards them.

“Lord!” Sven repeated, “You saved my life! How can I ever repay you?!”

Markus was confused, “I...saved your life?” That wasn’t how Markus remembered it, or perhaps covering Sven in his cloak had done more than he thought.

“The enchantment on my shield saved my life!” Sven insisted.

“Oh...” Markus now knew what he meant but could not accept praise for what had been a selfish act.

“Lord...” The older man had tears in his eyes, “Thank you for saving my boy,” he choked and bowed, overwhelmed with gratitude, “My children are all I have left, thank you!”

The young woman similarly bowed but was not nearly as impressed as the older man, “Lord.”

Unsure of exactly what to say, Markus decided to address the issue foremost on his mind, “Sven, what will you do now?”

Sven’s excitement upon first seeing Markus now dampened somewhat, “Ah...” Just like Markus, he seemed unsure what to say.

“Have you been measured for prosthetics yet?” Markus asked quickly, trying to stop the conversation from growing even more awkward. Markus realized his mistake the moment he stopped talking. As a lowly soldier, there was no way Sven would be able to afford magical prosthetics. To save what they could, the surgeons had amputated Sven’s legs about halfway down his thighs. Given the extensive level of damage, Markus believed there was no way Sven would ever walk again without magical prosthetics

Markus shifted his attention to one of the nearby soldiers stationed to keep order in the barracks and waved the woman over.

“Lord?” The soldier asked apprehensively, unsure of Markus’s motives and exact status beyond his title.

“I want you to go into the city and fetch someone who deals in the sale of prosthetics. If you are unable to leave your post, please organize for someone else to go in your place,” Markus ordered firmly.

Surprised by his request or perhaps that a southern lord spoke their tongue so fluently, the soldier took a few moments to respond, “Of course, my lord.” The soldier bowed her head slightly in deference and quickly left the barracks.

Sven, his sister and his father all looked shocked.

“It is the least I can do,” Markus dismissed their looks self consciously, “To say that I saved Sven’s life is a very particular way of looking at what happened. I think it is better to say we helped save each other...”

Sven’s sister narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Are you really a lord?” She asked incredulously.

“I am according to the guild,” Markus countered, before adding, “And your Prince Ragner seems to think so,”

Sven’s sister was stunned into silence.

“It is true,” Hilda agreed, “Lord Markus is the honoured guest of Prince Ragner and is a powerful Artificer.”

Aela gave Sven’s sister a smug grin.

Sven’s sister suddenly seemed unable to reconcile Markus’s underwhelming appearance against his alleged heroism. This was a common problem for Markus, he just didn’t fit with people's high expectations.

“Have you given any thought to what you will do now?” Markus asked Sven.

Sven’s expression grew somewhat downcast, “Even with prosthetics, I don’t think I could return to being a soldier again,” he admitted glumly, “I nearly died, who would have looked after my father and sister?”

Hilda shifted a little uncomfortably. This was all probably a rather confronting experience for her. Just because she was acquainted with the brutality of battle, did not mean she was familiar with how the soldiers and their families were left to pick up the pieces afterwards.

“Perhaps we can use my savings and compensation to try and start up my father’s kennels again...” Sven suggested dubiously.

“Hush,” Sven’s sister gave Sven a light shove, “You know the kennels are just about falling apart and the other breeders would just work together to ruin us again...”

“I won't hear of it!” Sven’s father agreed adamantly.

Markus was having a little trouble following the conversation, “You raised dogs?” He asked curiously, now remembering parts of his rambling conversation with Sven.

Sven’s father slowly ran a hand through his thinning hair and nodded, “I used to run kennels, breeding and training wolfhounds, lord.”

“Wolfhound?” Markus asked, completely unfamiliar with the different breeds of dogs.

“Ah pardon lord,” Sven’s father bobbed his head in apology, “The wolfhounds of the north are not the same breed as those by the same name in the south. Wolfhounds here in the north are, practically speaking, wolves, lord. They are only a few generations removed from wild stock.”

Markus became more than a little excited, “So you know how to breed and train wolves?”

Sven’s father bobbed his head differently, “More or less, lord.”

“What about giant wolves?” Markus asked quickly, trying not to get too ahead of himself, “Do you think you could train those?”

“Erm...” Sven’s father looked somewhat confused for a moment, “Truthfully, I do not know, lord. I know that giant wolves have been trained in the past, but their numbers have dwindled to the point that finding one is almost impossible.”

Markus made up his mind, “Would you be willing to come work for me?”

Sven’s father was taken aback again, “Ah, Lord, surely there are better kennel masters...”

“Maybe,” Markus agreed, “But there is something I want to start working on as soon as possible and assuming you and your family are willing, I am prepared to compensate you all handsomely for it.”

“Father...” Sven gave his father a pleading look.

“Why would you give us jobs?” Sven’s sister demanded warily, “If you are guilty over what happened to Sven just give him coins instead!”

“You're partly right,'' Markus admitted wryly, “Sven’s loyalty is why I am extending you all this offer and opportunity. Sven could have run and hidden himself away, but he stood by me instead. Loyalty is something very valuable to me.”

“Then I accept, lord,” Sven’s father bowed his head.

“Well, I guess it's decided then...” Sven’s sister commented dryly.

“I should probably make myself presentable,” Markus sighed, “Negotiating for a couple dozen prosthetics will probably go smoother that way.”

“A couple of dozen?...” Hilda asked, clearly confused.

“Markus is going to provide prosthetics for all of the wounded soldiers,” Aela observed smugly. She seemed to take enjoyment in witnessing Markus flaunt his wealth and ability in front of others, all the more so when he was being underestimated. Not that Markus minded, it actually felt rather good to have someone so obviously proud of him.

By the time they returned to their room and made themselves presentable, the merchant was awaiting their arrival at the barracks. To both the merchant’s surprise and delight, Markus ordered custom-fitted prosthetics for all of the wounded soldiers. Special orders were also placed for two soldiers who had been blinded. Markus felt a level of debt to these men and women who had been injured or died protecting him., so he also arranged for each soldier's family to receive additional compensation.

The merchant had assured Markus that all of the required prosthetics would be made available by the following afternoon at the latest. So Markus returned to his room and tried to explain the concept of his idea to Aela.

“Basically, you want to fight monsters with monsters?” Aela asked dubiously.

“Pretty much,” Markus agreed.

“Except they won't actually be monsters?” Aela continued in the same tone.

“Well they will be in most ways, just not the one that matters,” Markus amended.

“Right, you think the kennel master will be able to train them like regular animals...” Aela nodded but still looked sceptical. “I suppose it is worth a try,” she agreed reluctantly, “It could be very dangerous to attempt this though.”

“Well, actually, I think it is quite a similar situation as chimaeras,” Markus pointed out.

Aela raised an eyebrow curiously and waited for him to elaborate.

“Well, chimaeras are fused with dungeon energy, but you still think for yourselves. Even inside the dungeons and holding the heart, it doesn't have any power over you. Or at least, none that I have seen beyond the significance of fertility. So, why would a reconstructed monster be any different?” Markus asked.

Aela opened her mouth to respond, but stopped and thought about it some more.

“Who knows, I might actually be able to make them more loyal like the golems. It's honestly pretty difficult to get a read on where the mana conversion slimes fall on the whole loyalty spectrum. I honestly think they are too simple-minded to actually comprehend it, let alone consider it.” Markus shrugged.

“So the danger will depend on the monster?” Aela observed, now understanding where Markus was coming from.

“Exactly,” Markus agreed, “If that’s the case, then raising certain monsters shouldn’t actually be all that dangerous, provided they are not mistreated.”

Aela nodded, “So when you were asking about giant wolves, you were already thinking about making some of them weren't you?”

Markus nodded, “They would be a good test and rather conclusively determine if it works as well as if there are any risks.”

“But how are you going to replicate giant wolves?” Aela asked, “They are incredibly rare.”

Markus coughed awkwardly and scratched absently at the bridge of his nose, “I was considering just using regular wolves as a sort of template,” he admitted, in no hurry to face down another giant wolf.

“You can do that?” Aela asked.

Markus shrugged, “Maybe, I won't know until I try.”

Aela nodded and looked thoughtful for a moment, “I smelled wolfhounds outside earlier, I bet Hilda’s family has private kennels, most princedom lords do.”

“Should we go take a look then?” Markus asked, getting to his feet and stretching.

“Alright,” Aela agreed.

After leaving their quarters, one of the soldiers outside the keep was more than happy to escort them to the Jarl’s private kennels.

Even though he had already been told this in advance, Markus was genuinely surprised to find that the wolfhounds were indeed basically wolves. The only difference he could see was that they were responding to the kennel master’s commands as his apprentices mucked out the kennels.

Upon noticing Markus, the kennel master warily approached them, “Ah, how may I help you?...” The old kennel master looked furtively at the soldier.

“Lord Markus,” the soldier provided helpfully.

“-Lord Markus,” the kennel master bobbed his head in deference.

Markus smiled in what he hoped was a disarming manner, “I only found out about northern wolfhounds earlier today and I was hoping that I could take a closer look and learn more about them.”

“Oh,” the kennel master was surprised, “That can certainly be arranged my lord, just a few moments please.” The kennel master returned to his busy apprentices and began issuing a few new orders before returning with a particularly large wolfhound in tow.

The wolfhound was black with a large thick studded leather collar around its neck. Under the watchful gaze of the kennel master, the wolfhound was behaving just as expected, on its best behaviour.

“My lord, this is Thor, current sire of my Jarl’s kennels. As you can see, he is truly a magnificent example of the breed, retaining many of the feral qualities of its forebears without being too independent-” The kennel master explained proudly.

“-Is that usually an issue?” Markus asked curiously. He didn’t want to interrupt, but it was an important question.

The kennel master didn’t seem to mind though, “It can be in some of the less established bloodlines,” he readily admitted, “But generally, wolfhounds forfeit independence quite early, partly from training and partly from observing their elders. So long as they are not mistreated or starving, wolfhounds will obediently follow just about every command and only attack when given that particular order.”

Markus nodded, “Could you show me a basic demonstration? This is all rather new to me.”

“Of course my Lord!” The kennel maser agreed eagerly and led them all out into a small open-air enclosure they used for training.

Standing by the fence outside of the grounds, Markus took out his tablet and used it to record the wolfhound as the kennel master put it through its paces. The wolfhound didn’t seem to mind at all, in fact, it looked like it was rather enjoying the exercise, as if they were only playing games. It was obvious that the kennel master knew what he was about. No matter the command, Thor was able to quickly fulfil the command and receive a treat of what looked like small dried chunks of meat.

Markus felt like he was learning a lot just by watching the kennel master put Thor through his paces. Just like people, the wolfhound was happy to obey provided it was given the correct incentives. Assuming his replicated monsters were at least similar to animals, Markus felt like his plan had a pretty good chance at success.

After complimenting the kennel master and thanking the soldier for escorting them, Markus and Aela returned to their room again but were stopped by Tina in the sitting room.

“Ah, Markus, I was wondering if I could ask you something?” Tina asked with nervous excitement.

“I guess,” Markus agreed somewhat cagily.

Tina grinned, and opened her sketchbook to a bookmarked page and then eagerly handed it to Markus, “What do you think?” She asked excitedly.

The design was quite strange and Markus could confidently answer that he had never seen anything like it before. Or at least, that would have been the case before Markus had looked through the sketchbook earlier that day.

Markus began recognizing individual inventions from other pages of the sketchbook that comprised the amalgamation of the current invention. A large rotor fan to displace air, a large weight altering crystal anchor, a large oilskin envelope with a comparatively small basket hanging beneath it. Like all her inventions, Tina provided both the name and intended function of the invention at the bottom of the page.

Tina had designed an airship. Assumedly, once the oilskin envelope was filled with gas, the airship would rise into the air and stay there as if floating on water. The controlled weight of the enchanted crystal anchor would ensure that the airship did not float too high and would also allow it to land back on the ground again. Finally, the rotor fan would allow the airship to float its own course through the sky, by displacing and redirecting air behind itself. It was a bizarre and truly innovative concept Markus had never seen or heard of before and he really really wanted it.

If the overall size were increased and the basket was replaced by something a bit sturdier, ballista and archers could shoot down flying monsters while patrolling the boundaries of the great valley. Realistically, the air above the great valley was its greatest strategic vulnerability. If this invention could shore up that vulnerability, then he was all for it.

“I want it!” Markus declared eagerly, “Bigger, sturdier and with mounted weapons as well for driving off flying monsters. When can you make a prototype?”

Not surprised in the least by Markus’s enthusiasm, Tina grew more excited herself, “I might be able to buy most of the materials here in the city actually. As long as I give detailed schematics of the parts I need made, the smiths shouldn't have any trouble and the oilskin would just need to be stitched together. The basket shouldn't be a problem either, we can just reinforce it with mana for the time being right? The tricky part is getting the gas from the sewers...” Tina observed a little dejectedly, “I have made a couple of inventions to try and harvest it before and it's honestly not as simple as you think.”

Markus however, had a completely different harvesting method in mind, “So the sewer gas is best?” He asked, just to make sure first.

Tina shook her head, “It kind of is in terms of what we can acquire in sufficient volumes,” she explained, “Why? Did you think of something that might be better?”

“Maybe...” Markus admitted cagily, unsure of just how much he could trust Tina as a relative outsider.

Tina was a shrewd woman and immediately recognized Markus was hiding something, “This is another one of your secrets then?” She asked.

“Could you show me the gas gathering invention you were talking about and explain how it works?” Markus asked, dodging the question while confirming Tina’s suspicions.

Tina narrowed her eyes for a moment before nodding and carefully turning the pages to the invention in question. It was basically a mana fuelled pump with two thick oilskin tubes attached to it.

“You direct the tube at this end to the gas, or water or what have you, while the pump draws it in and drives it out the other end. Assuming the oilskin is well made and the stitchwork to make the tube isn’t faulty, it works pretty well.” Tina explained.

Markus turned the pages back to the airship again and considered his options. He could replicate a wyvern, the one that swallowed him whole had been just about filled full of flammable gas. However, the problem was everything else about the wyvern was catastrophically dangerous. So what about taking out all the dangerous parts and only replicating the part he wanted? It was probably possible, but what would that monster even look like?

This was tricky. Markus also didn’t want to make his ability to create his own monsters public knowledge, it could only end badly. So what about making a monster that looked like a regular animal, like he was planning with the giant wolves? But what sort of animal would make for a good cover? Actually, did it even need to be an animal at all?

Flipping the pages back to the pump, Markus had an idea, “I think I have an artifice that would work,” Markus suggested, “To convert mana into gas.”

Tina’s eyes grew wide, “Really? Could you show me?”

Markus hesitated.

“Oh come on! What do I have to do to convince you I won't spill your secrets?!” Tina demanded, “I have already shown you my inventions! Doesn’t that count for something?!”

Tina was right of course, Markus was keenly aware of how valuable her intellectual properties were and how much trust Tina had shown in him in sharing them, “Alright,” Markus agreed, “But I need some supplies first.”

Tina eagerly wrote down the list of supplies on a scrap of paper and went off into the city to place orders for what she needed. After a couple of hours, she returned with a large copper kettle, a few quartz crystal spheres the size of Markus’s fist and a small sack of bones.

Setting aside the quartz crystal, for now, Markus set to work scratching sigils around the spout and opening for the lid of the kettle. It took quite some time, given that the copper kettle had roughly the same diameter and depth as Markus’s forearm. Next, Markus retrieved one of the quartz crystal spheres and very carefully began etching the required sigils across its surface.

With every passing minute, Aela’s interest waned while Tina’s grew stronger.

After an hour, Markus was fairly confident he had the sigils the way he wanted them and carefully deposited the crystal sphere in the kettle. Just as he had done with the mana collecting slimes, Markus now tried to do something similar. He wanted to create another slime, but this time have it produce concentrated gas from its stored mana rather than just hoarding it.

According to Peabody, the slimes deployed in the sewers of Endem already generated gas as part of their digestive process, so theoretically, Markus just had to exacerbate it. Confident that he had finished all the necessary preparations, Markus trickled a little mana into the crystal and waited for the slime to take shape.

Since Markus had used barely any mana, the slime barely managed to cover a single inch of the sphere's surface. Taking a few of the bones from the sack, Markus began dropping the bones into the kettle.

Almost immediately, the slime began greedily growing in size and dissolving the bones.

Tina was stunned, “What..what is this?” She asked with a combination of awe and fear.

Markus upended the remaining bones into the kettle and replaced the lid, “The solution to our gas problem,” he replied with a grin, “It’s a slime monster.”