Chapter 16 - Rise of the Scholar and Advent of the Calamity Cook!

Author's notes: I did my best under very limited time constrains to write and edit this chapter, but if you happen to catch any major inconsistencies or typos, please don't hesitate to point them out. Thanks for reading!

“So, how is he?” I kept my eyes on Sol, who was still lying unconscious on the floor of Zephyr’s little hut.

“He has sustained a minor shock to his cranium, but fortunately there is no major trauma and he will recover fully once he gains back consciousness,” Zephyr commented, relief evident in his voice.

“Very well. Everything else is ready, so soon as Sol comes to, it’ll be time for us to disappear from here. You’ll manage fine without us, I assume?”

“Certainly, Lord Seth. It will weigh heavily on my disposition to absent myself from the daring exploits that seem to hound your every step, but for the time being I shall manage with fulfilling my role as a humble practitioner of the arts of the Scales and Measures.”

“Just don’t forget to gather information on the library’s location,” I noted tiredly, and held up a hand before Zephyr could launch into another of his speeches. "Spare me the details."

I just could not get used to Zephyr’s way of speaking. A simple word in the affirmative, or even a mere nod would have sufficed. Instead, here I had my own walking thesaurus.

Still, I had to admit I was fortunate to be able to count him as an ally. Glancing at Zephyr as he gently tended to the unconscious Sol, I had to pause to consider the paradox of the man.

On the one hand, he was an open book. There seemed to be no guile or evil in him. None whatsoever. It was to the point where an individual as jaded and cynical as me could not help but be instantly suspicious. However, so far there seemed to be no end to the crystal clear waters of the placid lake known as Saint Zephyr. Yeah, this was the kind of guy that ended up canonized in some obscure sacred text as the patron saint of yada yada. Goodness and kindness personified, that was our Zephyr.

In the other, I simply could not understand what drove a man like this. What made the cogs in his inner machine wind and turn? Long years watching the ways of the world had taught me that idealists only lived on pipe dreams until a rough awakening of one sort or the other. Until then, they spouted their nonsense simply because they didn’t know any better. However, Zephyr didn’t strike me as one such. He did not seem deluded or misguided. Rather, he seemed fiercely determined and principled to a fault.

That is not to say he was perfect. He was harboring some kind of secret. Apparently, he wasn’t human, or at least not fully so. For a humble merchant, he also had a disturbingly wide field of knowledge, even going as far as being able to instantly identify a magic diagram of the ninth circle. Now, I didn’t know anything about such, but just the fact that Zephyr claimed never to have seen one in all the texts he had studied in the - what was it, “Librarium Arcana”? - seemed to indicate this was no mere aficionado talking about a simple hobby.

As if he could feel my scrutiny, Zephyr looked up and met my eyes. After a long pause, during which his eyes were uncharacteristically inscrutable, my venture business partner slowly nodded to me. Unconsciously, I found myself nodding back. It was the kind of intimate gesture shared between comrades who have been through life and death situations together. A rare bond because it is very difficult to manufacture through artificial means. Instead, it naturally forms when you scrape by enough hairy situations that you've left a fair about of collective skin and blood behind.

By my book, Zephyr had earned that much from me many times over.

As if suddenly reaching a decision, Zephyr closed his eyes and let out a deep breath I didn't know he'd been holding. Then, he crossed the distance between us with decisive steps and bowed deeply to me from the waist. I was immediately taken aback by the gesture and its implied formality.

"Lord Seth," he intoned when he came back up. "I would take this opportunity to remark upon the unusual set of circumstances which have led us to become so closely acquainted to one another. It is my firm belief that no event thus far is the result of random circumstance or mere happenstance. Rather, we are all singular notes, faithfully resonating to the tune of a higher purpose within the grand symphony of the universe."

I squinted my eyes and firmly shook my head. "I don't buy it. My choices are my own and no one else's."

Zephyr nodded placidly, as though he'd expected as much. "Of course, I understand your perspective and appreciate it. I even agree with you, to a certain extent. You see, Lord Seth, I have come to realize that you are indeed an unpredictable factor, a discordant note within the harmony of this song. It is my theory that it has been granted to you to become an agent of chaos within the elaborate tapestry of fate, to change the artificial into the organic."

"Sounds like a fancy load of bull, added to which I don't care for the idea of limiting my choices within the confines of a structured system," I replied brusquely, annoyed at how close to the mark Zephyr's observation had been to the true nature of Aeterna. Didn't mean I had to like it. “I choose my own destiny.”

Zephyr nodded his acquiescence. "I have noted as much. All in all, it does seem somewhat of a paradox. As I said, it is only a theory. I will share my further observations once I have more data."

"Eh, don't bother," I muttered.

Zephyr simply smiled, and I just knew he'd choose to ignore my opinion on that, too.

He changed the tone of the discussion and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In any case, I would like to thank you for the wonderful opportunity this presents to test some long-held theories of mine. I have also come to appreciate the fact that we have become comrades. As such, I would like to offer the benefit of my training to your cause."

My ears immediately perked up that that. If I had a tail I would have been wagging it too.

"What kind of training are we talking here?"

"Well, as a servant of the lord of Scales and Commodities, I have a unique set of.."

I quickly held my hand up to end that particular line of inquiry. "Please, please spare me any of that," I said in a hoarse whisper, suppressing a shudder. "How about the skills you learned as a disciple of the healing order?"

"You mean my former life as a devotee to the Lady Arabelle, great are her tender mercies?" asked Zephyr, as though surprised. "I'm sorry Lord Seth, but though your intellect would be more than sufficient for the task, your rather appalling lack of faith in the Greater Powers pose quite the impassable challenge."

"Figures.." I muttered under my breath. "Damn stingy gods.."

"Of course, there are simple novice level feats of meditation and enlightenment that would be within your reach," Zephyr continued, instantly capturing all of my errant attention once more. "If you will allow me a moment.”

Turning around, Zephyr unlocked the strongbox that contained all his valuables, and after rummaging around for a while, carefully withdrew a handful of intricately inscribed scrolls.

“Ah, yes. You may have the choice of one of the following,” he explained while showing me each item in turn. “A mantra that channels your own reservoir of inner energy to instantly heal a minor amount of damage; a chant to call upon the holy power of your patron god or goddess in order to infuse divine power into the weapon of your choice; lastly, a simple trick of meditation that allows one’s body and spirit to recover lost stamina and health at an exponentially higher rate, though it cannot be used in combat."

"That's a tough decision, Zephyr. Is there a reason why I cannot simply learn all three?" I asked, always one to push for every available advantage.

"I'm afraid that though they are only initiate level rituals, they would still greatly tax any untrained individual's capacity to adapt to new techniques. They are actually used to gradually shape the unconscious mind of the newly adept into the required levels of concentration to achieve mastery of the intermediate levels of the sacred mysteries.."

Zephyr paused as he caught my exasperated look, then had the grace to flush slightly before continuing. "Ah, in other words, I can give you the techniques you need, but in order to be able to utilize even one you would need at the very least half a year of constant, rigorous training. Since they branch out to different schools of thought and perception, you would need to spend a comparable amount of time with the other two."

"You gotta be shitting me," I half-shouted, appalled. “That's a year and a half! For ‘simple’ beginners’ tricks?”

Zephy nodded to me. “The depth of the holy mysteries of the Lady Arabelle, may her light shine upon us forever, are unfathomable.”

I barely held back a snort, and blew out a breath of frustration while considering my choices. All three skills would be incredibly useful! To choose only one. Or wait, maybe I didn’t have to choose just one.

“Zephyr, according to you those scrolls contain the knowledge and techniques needed, but it would still take a considerable time to acquire the skills?”

Zephyr nodded to me.

I frowned slightly. “Does this hold true for any skills, or is it just for the.. ah, holy mysteries?”

Zephyr raised an eyebrow. “I believe every skill worth acquiring takes a comparable amount of effort and time, Lord Seth. Do you not find this to be the case?”

“Hmm. Apparently, not always,” I murmured. This was very revealing. I had been able to learn the skill “Overkill” immediately upon absorbing the thug’s soul. If Zephyr’s answer held any truth to it, then that meant my ability to acquire skills by stealing my opponents’ souls was incredibly powerful. I was in fact not only devouring their souls and burning them to fuel my own, I was also able to steal their techniques and make them my own!

Little wonder that the Devourer of Souls of ages past had been able to conquer the known world.

Not that I would settle for that. No, I had far more ambitious designs than that.

I shook myself loose from my daydreaming. Until I could fully harness the potential of my newly acquired status as the Deathwalker, that was all such ambitions would amount to: mere flights of fancy. I needed to get my hands on the power needed to make such plans a feasible reality.

Nodding to myself, I turned to Zephyr. “Can I have all three scrolls now, as opposed to choosing one?”

Zephyr smiled as though he’d been expecting no less from me. “Of course, Lord Seth. I prepared for just such an event and had these scrolls prepared for you to take with you and study at your own leisure.”

Smart man, he was beginning to understand how I worked.

“Thank you, Zephyr,” I said gravely, and shook his hand in earnest.

The gesture seemed to please him greatly, and we exchanged a look of mutual appreciation, which quickly passed as I hastily let go of his hands and coughed to clear my throat.

“Ahem, well then. Shia, I have something for..” I called out, letting Zephyr get back to looking after Sol and turning around to look for my newly adopted kid.

CHOMP

I couldn’t help but stare with a mixture of disbelief and shock as I found my hand halfway inside a book - yes, INSIDE, as in fully inserted through the paper - as Shia clamped down on the scrolls with an appreciative MMMMM! and made crunching sounds as the pages moved around my hand.

“What the..” Before I even had time to shake her loose, Shia had already let go of my hand and settled on the ground, lying in a satisfied puddle of haphazardly arranged pages with a very unladylike burp. Of course, the scrolls were gone.

“We really need to talk about table manners,” I admonished, but couldn’t help but chuckle ruefully as the smiley on Shia’s cover turned to one of sleepy contentment.

^_______^

“Shia,” I called out gently while picking up the book and walking towards the corner of the room that had the dubious distinction of sporting the only desk in Zephyr’s home. The one room cottage was really very poorly equipped to house all the guests it had at the moment. Monopolizing the one desk in the place was the only option left to me, since I finally would be able to devote some time to a task I’d been itching to get my hands on for a while now.

“Shia, will you let me look at your pages?” I asked somewhat awkwardly.

The sigils on the cover of the book shimmered for an instant before slowly unfolding itself in my hands and turning to the very first page. There, my eyes went wide as I took in its contents.

“You.. you’re.. still blank!” I muttered, disappointed.

Instantly, the page turned a slight orange color and I could swear the whole book started to shake uncontrollably with suppressed mirth.

“Hah. Very funny. Got me,” I grumbled.

“Hehehe. Shia got mommy,” came my daughter’s tinkling laughter.

“Stop playing around, I’m serious here,” I admonished her, poking her warningly in the spine.

“Ow, fine, fine. Mommy’s no fun,” complained Shia mock-glumly. “What would you like to see?”

“Do you currently have any information on souls or soulbinding?” That was the question I’d been most anxious to ask.

“Nope,” came the flat answer.

“Are you su..” I began, but was interrupted.

“Really, mommy?” Hah, my daughter was picking up an attitude. I wondered where from?

“Fine, how about the first book you ate? The secrets of the Umeji clan!” I immediately exclaimed.

“Oh, that. Sure, but just so you know, it smells funny,” Shia complained.

With that, the pages in the book started to flip by themselves, slowly at first, but then faster and faster, until it came to a dead stop at a page in which the title read, “Secrets Skills of the Umeji Clan”. Excitedly, I unconsciously gripped the edges of the page tighter as I pulled it closer and began to read.

“What the..” After a few minutes, I couldn’t conceal my disappointment.

“Fufufu..” came Shia’s laughter.

“Figures,” I grumbled, tossing Shia a warning look, which only served to draw forth even more laughter.

“Aw well, might as well learn what I can from it. Is this all? There’s nothing about..” I trailed off helplessly, shrugging my shoulders.

“Sorry mommy, Shia told you Shia hasn’t learned any fighting stuff,” came the slightly apologetic voice.

“But really, tanning? Leatherworking? Mining? What the hell, who were these Umeji?” I complained loudly.

“Mommy, according to the book they were an honorable clan recognized as the premier craftsmen of the Ae’Sur tribes, having once had the honor to serve the Great Khan himself.”

“Shoemakers and farmers,” I grumbled. No wonder it had been in the possession of a family of Auroch herdsmen.

“Look at it on the bright side mommy. It states here in page 425, paragraph 2: ‘Our skills have passed down the art of..”

“Wait wait,” I called out, holding my hand up. “Did you just say page 425? That skinny little manuscript hardly even had 50 pages!”

“Mommy, really?” If a 6-year old book could sigh in utter exasperation, that’s exactly what it would sound like. “There were 52 pages of thick parchment, which held a very thin but durable sheet of high quality script inside. These contained a further 140 pages of coded information. They were actually drawn in a concise pattern of key structures which reveal the cypher to drawing a total of 644 pages for the final tome.”

I closed my mouth, which had been hanging wide open, with a snap. I was reminded of Little Red Riding Hood standing before the Big Bad Wolf. “My, grandma, what colossal cerebral cortex you have,” I mouthed.

“Ehehe, Shia heard that,” chimed Shia.

“Continue, Shia,” I waved her on. Children nowadays, really.

“As I was saying, it states in page 425, paragraph 2,” Shia continued eagerly, the words lighting up on the page as she read them. Yeah, Shia likes to be helpful like that. “Our skills have passed down the art of drawing the living spiritual energy of an individual and infusing it into his spear and armor. However, the number of clansmen born with the innate ability to tap into the vast reservoir of mana required has been dwindling, until only I and my grandson are left. This manual is left as a failsafe and a precious heirloom, should the passing down of these secret techniques become impossible as tradition has demanded, from father to son.”

“In other words, the knowledge of this technique has died out because these desert cavemen are all about brawn and none of them have the intelligence to harness the amount of mana required for the techniques?” I spat out, incredulous.

“Mm-hmm. Seems about right,” Shia chirped.

I stopped to consider the ramifications. A technique for reinforcing weapons and armor using my own mana. I had to admit I probably had more mana than I knew what to do with, thanks to my high Intelligence stat. If I could make such a technique mine, my combat abilities would receive an incredible boost!

Reading further, however, brought my dreams of overnight world dominion to a resounding crash. If I was reading this right..

“Only self-cast, non-transferable and worst of all, I must first learn the basic artisan’s techniques? What is this crap?” I complained loudly.

“Fufu, it means mommy will have to learn to sew and plant,” came Shia’s tinkling laughter.

“I didn’t cross the boundaries of the nether world to make boots and grow flowers,” I grumbled.

“Oh, I think mommy will have to start with tanning hides and collecting weeds first,” Shia corrected, ever so helpful.

Taking a deep breath, I composed myself. There had to be a way around this. I would have to study this material with more attention. Ultimately, I would do anything to get my hands on more power, and these Umeji clan skills looked too promising to reject out of hand.

Beggars can’t be choosers, and though it stung to admit it, realistically speaking I was pathetically weak, even with my new powers.

This reminded me, I hadn’t looked at my status window for a long time now. I surreptitiously uncovered the bandage covering my right hand. The five circles were still glowing, though the brightness had dulled somewhat. By the same token, that intoxicating feeling of power surging through my entire body was still there, waiting to be tapped. I had expected the skill to be cancelled or to wear off soon thereafter, but the duration had specified “special”, and its effects were still ongoing. Though, looking more closely, it looked like one of the circles had grown a little smaller.

“Status Window” I murmured.

*Diiing*

Status WindowName:SethAlignment:NeutralLevel:3 (85% XP until next level)Class:ScholarRace:HumanAffiliation:Ancient HistoryGender:MaleTalent:Stubborn MuleTraits

Soulbound - Bound to another soul

Flawed Soul - Defiant of the rules of Soul Forging

Paranoid Survivalist - Survivor the Mists of Serenity

Relentless - Victorious in a battle of wills against the Gates of Oblivion

Shameless manipulator - Aced a con from a busted hand.

Devious mastermind - Plotter of intricate schemes and stratagems.

Mathematical wizard - Solver of riddles and puzzles to boggle the mind.

RelentlessAchievements

Training Day Disaster

Fame:1100Infamy:0-Health:78 / 78Soul Points:5 / 5Mana:170 / 170Synch Rate0.1%Stamina:13 / 13????-Strenght:8(+5)Agility:7(+3)Constitution:10(+3)Intelligence:22Wisdom:12Charisma:6Luck:13-Attack:5Defense:3(+20)M.Attack:22M.Defense:17Physical ResistancesSlashing:1Piercing:1Crushing:1Elemental ResistancesFire:0Water:0Wind:0Earth:0Light:0Darkness:0

I was thunderstruck. I had expected some improvement after using "Flame of the Soulbound", but my health had improved by a factor of 10! Not only that, but all my other stats had gained a boost of at least 100% or more. What was this abnormal improvement in stats? Then I sat for a while to consider the facts as I had them. Even though I had not devoted any points in Strength, would it be normal for a person striking another’s face with a full swing using a wooden pole to not do any damage at all? At first I thought it was a combination of my body’s feebleness and the power of my enemies.

However, in the fight I had earlier today I had been able to knock out their leader with just a rock. True, I had swung it down as hard as I could from a great height, but that still didn’t explain the fact that I’d been able to do 25 points of damage from a simple rock, even if it was a critical hit. If that was the kind of damage one could expect from a well-placed rock, my broomstick and follow-up counter-punch should have been able to at least deal some damage.

Frowning, I murmured, “Skill information, “Flame of the Soulbound.”

*TTIRING*

Flame of the SoulboundYou are one of the Soulbound, with the ability to burn others' souls to empower your own.

Utilizing this skill stabilizes the core soul of the Soulbound and grants a boost to different stats depending on the soul consumed.

In addition, certain souls have a chance of unlocking new skills

Currently consuming: Lesser human soul

Strength +5

Agility +3

Constitution +3

Skill acquired: OverkillRestriction:Soulbound only

I carefully read the description over and over again, and one part in particular caught my attention.

“Stabilizes the core soul?” I mumbled, lost in thought.

Zephyr looked up at that. “Lord Seth?”

I looked at Zephyr and weighed my options. On the one hand, I could choose to confide in him and obtain precious information. In the other, I certainly did not want to further encourage more nonsense about me being some agent of chaos.

In the end, as happens more often than not, the pragmatist in me won out over the cantankerous hermit demanding secrecy.

As I explained the events in the alley and how I’d obtained the power to defeat my enemies, Zephyr’s eyes remained fixed with equal parts wonder and something I hadn’t expected from Zephyr - hunger. It was as though he were a parched survivor of an endless desert, and the enigma that were the strange glowing symbols on the back of my hand were the only source of water he’d seen in days. Weeks.

“Theoretically, Lord Seth, the acute weakness you’ve been feeling may have been caused by the very peculiarity in your soul that allows you to absorb and wield the spiritual essence of vanquished foes,” Zephyr murmured thoughtfully, more to himself than to anyone else. “If we assume that one of the prerequisites in order to be able to draw in other souls and drain their power to empower your own is that the vessel - that is, you - have the capacity to do so in the first place. As a simple metaphor, we must first spill before being able to refill.”

I nodded slowly. It made sense. Perhaps that’s part of what it meant to be a flawed soul. If so, this was an extremely powerful ability - though only so long as I continued to have souls to burn. I would have to find out more information. This made the search for the lost Imperial Library of Korendur even more urgent. Who knew how long I would be able to stay in this empowered state before I completely depleted the energy from the soul? Would I be able to keep the skills I learned? Could there be any withdrawal symptoms or secondary effects, as though from a strong steroid? The questions were endless, but it seemed there would be no answers to be found here.

“Oooh, Mister got some nifty tattooes,” came Sol’s slightly bleary voice.

Reaver immediately perked his ears up and would have happily pounced on the dazed looking Sol if I hadn’t reached out and pulled him back by the back of his neck. I was pleasantly surprised to find I now had enough strength to at least give Reaver a pause.

“Ooww..” the Kha’zik pup whined plaintively.

“None of that for now. Let Zephyr first check him over. Then you can smother him in all the drool you like - while we’re on the road. It’s time.”

“Yay, I’m ready mister!” Sol cried out excitedly.

“Wooof!” chorused Reaver.

“Alright then, let’s get going.”

*TTIRING*

You have formed a party!As the party leader, you have invited others into your party. All members will share experience and loot until the party is disbanded. All relevant party buffs and bonuses will apply in proportion to your leadership skill.Party Members:Sol

ReaverActive Party Effects and Bonuses:

Exp increased 20%

A party window! I had not expected that. We had even received a bonus to experience. What other kind of bonuses or buffs would be applied? What was this leadership skill? Even without those, there might be other benefits to this.

Thoughtfully scratching my head, I decided it couldn’t hurt to try so I whispered, “Status Window: Sol”.

*Diiing*

Status WindowName:SolAlignment:NeutralLevel:4 (20% XP until next level)Class:??Race:??Affiliation:??Gender:FemaleTalent:Hot BloodedTraits

Orphan - Child of tragedy

Resilient - Weathered the storm

Single-minded - Or is it simple-minded?

Achievements

Last Survivor

Fame:0Infamy:0-Health:130 / 130??:??Mana:10 / 10????Stamina:52 / 52????-Strenght:28Agility:23Constitution:13Intelligence:5Wisdom:5Charisma:6Luck:6-Attack:28(+5)Defense:18(+25)M.Attack:-M.Defense:-Physical ResistancesSlashing:2Piercing:2Crushing:2Elemental ResistancesFire:0Water:0Wind:0Earth:0Light:0Darkness:0

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared dumbly at Sol. The kid was a monster! 28 Strength? 23 Agility? I had seen him effortlessly dash around with that huge sword on his back, so I’d assumed he’d be able to handle himself in a scrap. This, however, was so far beyond my wildest expectations I did not know how to take it. He had more than double my strength and agility! Yet, so far I hadn’t seen him swing that sword even once. Not only that, but he’d managed to get himself captured by Tarik’s cronies not once, but twice - without being able to inflict so much as a single casualty.

Sol seemed to notice my scrutiny, and turned his head to meet my eyes with those big, guileless eyes of his, grinning disarmingly. I’d noticed one of his traits was “Single-minded”, or “Simple-minded” depending on how you chose to read it. He did indeed look as though he’d forgotten that only a day ago he’d been destined to end up on the slave blocks, separated from his only family, a giant bag of fleas.

Ignorance truly is bliss, I suppose.

I rolled my eyes and turned away, but decided this duo merited closer inspection.

“Status Window: Reaver,” I mouthed.

*Diiing*

Status WindowName:ReaverAlignment:NeutralLevel:5 (10% XP until next level)Class:??Race:??Affiliation:??Gender:MaleTalent:Indomitable SpiritTraits

Guardian - One who protects

Loyal - Adamant and unyielding to the end

Achievements

Survivor - Stood till the end

Fame:0Infamy:50-Health:180 / 180??:??Mana:28 / 28????Stamina:72 / 72????-Strenght:23Agility:30Constitution:18Intelligence:6Wisdom:7Charisma:3Luck:5-Attack:30Defense:24M.Attack:-M.Defense:-Physical ResistancesSlashing:1Piercing:1Crushing:1Elemental ResistancesFire:0Water:0Wind:0Earth:0Light:0Darkness:0

I tried hard not to choke. Even the damn mutt was a monster! Not only was it a full level higher than Sol, those stats were loaded. It was no wonder that Tarik had needed five men in order to capture him the first time, and they had to pay in blood to overcome him.

Ridiculous! These were the "kids" I'd almost gotten myself killed trying to save? Hell, if anything, it should be the other way around!

I was glad I’d turned away first, since I would have a very difficult time explaining why my lips were stretched from cheek to cheek in a sadistic snarl. These kids were diamonds in the rough, but they’d been allowed to rot in the dust for too long. No more. I was going to run them ragged, practically into the ground. Then I would really get started on them.

They would rue the day they ever stumbled across me.

“Mommy, I’m scared,” came Shia’s whimper from inside my pocket.

***

“W.. water..” I panted, dragging myself up on my elbows and spitting out a handful of sand.

“Here mister, don’t die,” whispered Sol, holding my head up as he brought a canteen of the precious liquid to my parched lips.

Reaver hovered uncomfortably close to me as well, no doubt also worried about my chances of survival.

It had been four hours since we had set off. It felt like 2 weeks.

After making sure Sol was alright - the kid was surprisingly sturdy - and that we had all our supplies loaded on my auroch, we had quickly bid our farewells to Zephyr and gotten on the road. The first stretch was actually the longest, since I simply wanted to put some distance between the town and my party. According to my information, it wasn’t worth our time to linger in this area. The monsters were either too scarce or puny to warrant the effort. Besides, I wanted to reach our first stop before the sun went down.

That was the beginning of this march from hell. Dust as far as the eye could behold, and it simply ran rampant into every opening between our clothes, boots and bodily cavities. It itched something fierce. Sparse vegetation that held more thorns than anything remotely useful, and the rest of it was just rocks and more rocks.

I had resolved we would all be walking and only using the auroch as a beast of burden. This was in order to increase our stamina. Nothing like a good forced march to get everyone in the mood for some training. We carried plenty of water, and unsurprisingly I was the one who needed it the most.

Luckily, I’d purchased well-fitting boots made for travelling. Unfortunately, the rest of me was not. So, I found myself collapsing time and time again as I pushed my body beyond its reasonable limits. Why go to such extents?

*TTIRING*

You have gained a stat increase!Your relentless pursuit of self-inflicted physical abuse has yielded a body that can better withstand an arduous journey!Stamina increased:+1

Yes! This was the third stamina point I’d received. In the real world, this kind of insane death march would be inefficient due to the damage and fatigue sustained. However, in this world I needed only rest for a few minutes with plenty of water and some improvised shade, and my stamina points would eventually fill back up to full. Rinse and repeat. It would take some more time than expected to reach our destination, but it was definitely worth it.

Besides, I wasn’t just wasting my time while travelling. I had Shia in my hand the whole time, trusting Sol and Reaver to take the lead while I walked in their footsteps and read the book. I only lifted my eyes up momentarily and from time to time in order to check our course and correct it as needed. It was hardly necessary, as Shia was a swift and efficient navigator, telling us exactly which way to go with a big glowing arrow in the air.

While Sol and Reaver clapped delightedly every time Shia pointed the way, I was far too busy, completely absorbed into my studies. Yes, I was finally living up to my class’ potential. At long last, I was able to engage in some scholarly pursuits, and it was definitely paying off!

I had hardly spent 10 minutes reading up on the skills of the Umeji Clan when a message box popped up.

*TTIRING*

You are now engaged in research!

Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:Scholarly ResearchF11%As a scholar, your familiarity with various methods of research and study grant you bonuses to the rate and depth of comprehension of the target material once you dedicate a fixed amount of time to such pursuits. Note that familiarity with the research subject, type of study environment, and quality of source material also grant bonuses or penalties.

It couldn’t be helped that I’d be getting penalties for the conditions I was studying under, and a subject I was completely unfamiliar with to boot. However, Shia was an excellent source material, and time practically flew as skills started rolling in every few minutes.

*TTIRING*

You have learned a new skill: Mining!

Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:MiningF11%You may now harvest the bounties of the deep earth. You are able to find and collect different ores and precious stones

*TTIRING*

You have learned a new skill: Animal Trapping!

Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:Animal TrappingF11%You are now able to devise simple traps to capture animals. You have also learned to skin and process the fur and leather you gain in the process, as well as harvesting various animal meats and parts.

*TTIRING*

You have learned a new skill: Imperial Cooking!

Skill Name:Skill Rank:Talent Level:Skill Experience:Imperial CookingF11%The secrets of serving the Imperial palate with delicacies from centuries past has been collected in this ancient skill. Creativity is a vital part of a successful cook, and thus you may also improvise your own masterpieces from existing recipes for unpredictable results!

*TTIRING*

Congratulations! You have reached level 4!

Hell yes! A level up! Becoming a scholar was finally paying off, as I'd finally been able to level up, and without even lifting a single finger. These were just the fringe benefits, too! Once I found the Imperial Library of Legendary Korendur, the possibilities were endless. The skills I would learn. The lore I would unearth. The power I would wield.

The skills were just another added bonus. I was particularly hopeful about that last skill. I’d been quite the popular cook back home, where various officers under my command had often made special requests for me to cook for their men, mumbling something about it being by far the most effective morale booster. Perhaps my cooking would prove just as useful and celebrated in Aeterna.

***

Eventually, we arrived to a dilapidated mound of ruins just as the sun was setting over the horizon. I quickly set about setting up a camp, which consisted of mainly ordering Sol and Reaver around as they carried out basic tasks. It was my job to train the brats, not to babysit them.

“Sol, set up our things over there, by the rocks. That way we’ll have a good field of vision while still partly concealing our fire,” I ordered, pointing.

“Reaver, go out and gather some firewood. Don’t give me that look, you know exactly what I’m talking about. No wood, no chow for you, ungrateful mutt,” I berated the shameless mutt when he tried to pull the old “I’m just a dumb doggie” trick.

“Brush down and feed the Auroch.”

“Fetch water from the well.”

“Set up the bedrolls.”

There were a surprising number of tasks needed to run an efficient camp, and even if there weren’t, I would have invented some. What these brats needed most at the moment was some discipline in their lives, as well as some order to help them leave their terrible ordeal behind.

As Sol stalked past me, grumbling about having to pick off the pebbles from under my bedroll, I dug around my pack.

Time for the carrot.

“Hey kid, don’t forget this,” I called out as I pulled out the armor I’d purchased for Sol and threw it at him.

The kid stumbled back with a cry of surprise as the weight hit him.

“Yeah, I asked for a couple modifications,” I commented over my shoulder, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “For one, I asked for an extra layer of protection around the arms and shoulders. Since you’re obsessed with that monstrous sword of yours, you won’t be able to recover quickly enough after launching an attack. You will have to rely on deflecting blows rather than dodging them completely. That extra layer of mail mesh should help. I’ll tell you about the other changes if I deem it necessary.”

I grunted as a sudden weight hit me from behind. I looked down in surprise to find Sol’s hands wrapped around my waist as he buried his face into my back.

“H.. hey, stop it, it’s not a big deal,” I stammered, flustered.

“Thanks mister,” whispered Sol, his tone charged with feeling. “This is the first time anyone’s been so nice to me.”

“D.. don’t get all mushy on me, it’s just so you’ll last a little while longer while serving as my meat shield,” I explained while flailing my arms expansively.

“Hehehe,” Sol laughed as he gave me another squeeze, and Shia joined in as well.

Kids these days, no manners I tell you.

When I finally disengaged Sol’s grip, he grinned hugely as he put his new armor on. Although it was heavier than my own armor, it now had a higher defensive value as well. The last thing I needed was for the poor kid to get eaten by a couple rabid hyenas on our first hunting trip. That is why I had chosen to emphasize survivability before anything else.

While Sol struggled to keep Reaver’s curious sniffing at bay while putting on the unfamiliar gear, I withdrew the pocket-sized version of Shia from the chest pocket I had attached just for that purpose.

Right, time for me to do my share of the work. I instructed Sol to keep an eye out while I settled down comfortably in front of the fire and pulled Shia out.

“Shia, show me ‘Trance of Transcendence,’” I whispered.

Wordlessly, the book instantly flew open to display a colorful page with many diagrams, charts, bullet points and side notes. This had been yet another pleasant surprise, courtesy of my adopted daughter. On the very second study session I’d engaged on while on the road, my eyes had nearly popped out of my sockets.

Shia had, clever book that she is, somehow managed to make herself useful once more by re-organizing all the information in as effective a manner as possible. This increased the quality of the source material by leaps and bounds, and after learning a few more basic crafting skills, I decided to get a headstart on unlocking some of those essential skills Zephyr had passed down to me.

My priority would be to learn the “Trance of Transcendence”, which sounded like a cheap yoga parlour trick but in fact was an incredible skill that would become the cornerstone of Seth, the eventual Godslaughterer. Now there was a title to give one shivers of anticipation.

According to its description, “Trance of Transcendence”, or the trance as I called it for short, was a deep meditative state that increased the regeneration rate of HP, Mana, and stamina many times over the regular resting rate. Potentially, that meant that instead of having to wait minutes in between every time my stamina ran out, I could simply enter the trance and fill up to full in a matter of seconds! I could use and abuse the crap out of a skill like that!

The only problem was the rate at which one could learn such a skill. Zephyr had said it would take me at least 6 months, but thanks to the bonus I received as a Scholar and my high intelligence, which I had pumped all my stat points into so far, I was able to achieve a 15% completion rate within my first day! I wondered how much further I could get now that I was in a more relaxed state, further accelerating my studying.

Alas, it was not to be. A few moments later, Sol’s woe begone face popped in between myself and the book, interrupting my research. The scowl that had been gathering at my brow instantly died down when I saw the woeful expression on his face, along with the growling of his stomach.

“Miiiister, foooood..” moaned Sol with emaciated cheeks. I’d been so caught up in my research, I’d even forgotten to feed the new recruits! Unforgivable!

Shia sighed mournfully as I set her aside for a moment, and I couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of my mouth. Children love to receive attention from their parents, and apparently reading Shia was as close as playing with her as I could get. She seemed to derive an inordinate amount of pride and pleasure from the simple ritual, as she constantly lit up the words as I silently mouthed them, turned the pages for me and even zoomed in on graphs and added small explanatory notes under charts I had trouble understanding. Truth to tell, I could feel myself enjoying the ritual as well, more than I cared to admit. I could practically feel the devotion that radiated from Shia every time she added a tiny heart next to a “Well done!” scrawl whenever I finished a particularly difficult portion, or whenever she completely reorganized the structure of a certain paragraph when I had trouble grasping the concept immediately.

“We will continue in a little bit, Shia,” I comforted her, but she just sighed again.

Children.

I heard a rumbling sound from behind my back, and with a start I realized that the warm, soft feeling behind my back was that of Reaver, who had curled up next to me while I had been preoccupied with the book. From the depth of the shadows around us, more time than I’d thought must have passed while I studied. The sound came again, a deep growling from his stomach, and Reaver switched looks between me and the firewood merrily burning in front of us accusingly.

“Fine, fine, you mutt. You did well and you deserve your wages. Sol, I know you’re hungry too. Don’t worry, I will prepare you a feast worthy of kings!” I promised, spreading my hands in a grand gesture.

One of the skills I’d picked up on the way had been the cooking skill “Imperial Cuisine”. Most dishes looked much too elaborate for me to even fully grasp, let alone prepare, but the beginning recipes looked simple enough. Although most meals called for a dismaying amount of high quality, and thusly proportionately highly priced ingredients, I’d been in the army for a long time. You pick up a thing or two about replacing this with that when you’re under a budget, and under a deadline, to boot.

“Sol, bring me that bag with the foodstuffs. Yeah, that one,” I indicated, while I reached into one of the other bags and pulled out a pan and a couple other utensils.

Accepting the bag, I pulled out a few ingredients I recognized and promptly began to slice and dice, peel and chop, stir and saute, and within moments the succulent smells of a meal ready to eat was wafting through the air.

*TTIRING*

Congratulations! Your Imperial Cooking skill has reached rank F level 2!

*TTIRING*

You have successfully created a dish using your skill: “Imperial Cooking!”

Skill Name:Skill Rank:Skill Level:Skill Experience:Imperial CookingF21%You have used your knowledge of “Imperial Cooking” to create a new dish that has been dead for over a millenia! You gain bonus skill points and the resulting dish may have special effects as well. You may also name your creation.

Reaver and Sol stood vacant-eyed in front of the fire, mesmerized by the smells wafting from the pot, drool steadily dripping down their chins. I had to admit the smell was incredible, and I was feeling a little hungry myself.

I dipped a spoon into my very first creation and gave it one final tasting. A wild burst of flavors exploded in my mouth and I closed my eyes in appreciation. Hmm. Yes, this was it.

*TTIRING*

You are now under the effects of “Unnamed Dish”A humble dish made with travel staples, it travels well and keeps even better. It grants a bonus to max stamina and also increases stamina regeneration rates for 2 hours.Max Stamina:+2Stamina Regen Rate:+10%

“Not bad at all for my first attempt!” I exclaimed, extremely pleased with the results. “I’ll call it Salted beef and potato stew! Here, have some you two.”

I promptly ladled some into dishes and served them to Sol and Reaver, who fell upon it like a pack of ravenous beasts. The only problem was that they didn’t get up afterwards.

*BLEEP*

Alert! Party members are currently affected by the status effect: StunnedFor the duration of the effect, anyone affected by the status effect: Stunned will be unable to perform any actionsDuration:10 seconds

“Guys?”

“Guuuuu…” Sol looked at me with tears streaming from his eyes as his face conveyed an expression of utter disgust seldom found upon the face of this planet. His mouth stood frozen in the act of chewing on the stew, and somehow I could tell that even though he desperately wanted to spit it out, his body seemed incapable of any movement for the time being.

“Huh? That’s strange. Did it have some other special effects?” I wondered out loud.

I heard a mewling sound to my left and turned my head to find Reaver sprawled on the ground as well, half of his bowl gone already into his enormous maw. His eyes were completely vacant and was that foam coming out of his mouth?

“Guys, what’s going on?”

“Shia is so glad Shia doesn’t have to eat people food,” mumbled a half-relieved, half-horrified voice from inside my pocket.

“Quiet you!” I muttered, and set about reviving both Sol and Reaver.

With plenty of water and after the initial shock passed, both Sol and Reaver nodded to one another, and Reaver frantically dug a hole while Sol reached into the fire to grab the steaming pot and threw it in. Reaver immediately covered it, then turned around to pee on it to boot.

I stared in bewilderment, still chewing on my portion of the stew. It really didn’t taste that bad. I said as much.

“Mister.. so scary..” mumbled Sol while hugging himself and rocking back and forth, suppressing a shudder.

I shifted my gaze to Reaver, who cringed away with his tail between his legs.

“Really, it isn’t so bad,” I noted, holding my spoon out. That was enough. Sol and Reaver both bolted upright and cowered away from me.

“Mister, please don’t do this. I’ll do anything..”

Reaver bared his fangs and looked desperately for a way out.

“Bah. Fine, you can have the hard travel biscuits we brought as emergency rations,” I muttered darkly.

Both Sol and Reaver practically dove for the packs with grateful expressions on their faces.

“I don’t understand. It tastes fine to me,” I muttered.

“Mommy, did you do a lot of cooking before?” came Shia’s tentative query.

“Sure, I’ve been specifically asked by entire platoon commanders to feed all their troops. Only for very special occasions, I was told,” I explained, puffing out my chest.

“Umm, did the commander people eat the food too?” Shia asked pointedly.

I scowled as I recalled that everyone in the chain of command, from the captains to every single sargeant had always found a reason to politely refuse the honor and rush off at top speed, leaving a dead, hollow silence within the mess hall as pale-faced soldiers sat in various states of panic or despair.

“It’s not that bad,” I repeated darkly, chewing while spreading Shia’s pages in my other hand and settling in for another cramming session.

*TTIRING*

Congratulations! You have earned a new trait: Calamity Cook!

"Trait information: 'Calamity Cook.'" I muttered in spite of myself.

Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:Calamity CookF199%Ancient prophecy tells of the end of days when the signs would herald the advent of the Destroyer of Souls, the Harbinger of Doom, the Right Hand of Chaos himself: The Calamity Cook! Let all your foes reel in abject surrender, and all your allies collapse in utter despair - your dishes have the power to bring them all to their knees and putrefy their very souls.

Effectiveness of intimidation or fear effects inflicted on others increased +200%

Effects of food made more potent with unpredictable effects.

Resistance to poison +20%

Leadership +20%

Charisma -1

Dread +5

“Not that b.. Dammit,” I snapped, shaking my head. I’m a former soldier turned scholar, not a damn cook. So sue me.

Besides, it really did taste just fine.

A little more salt, perhaps?

I continued to chew while humming to myself. I would need the energy come dawn. We would be entering our very first dungeon, the entrance to which lay hidden somewhere among these old ruins.

Time for the old soldier to kick some ass sans the world-breakingly dismal cooking.

Bah!