Chapter 3

They stared at each other, and Daniel recognised the lurker. It was the archer who had been infected with the mind worm.

His heart sank.

He had forgotten about that problem. There was very little light, but he could now see the purple around the eyes. It was just like the young man he had killed upstairs.

Excitement flared from his club. The emotions screamed it was an opportunity.

Anger blazed through Daniel before he could stop it. He wanted to scream that this was a human, a tragedy, and definitely not a fortunate opportunity. The club felt his fury and mentally flopped away like a dog cowering after being yelled out.

He did not care.

They had already had this conversation. A small part of him tried to stop the angry monster that had been unleashed, but it was overwhelmed. The stress of his position, the ten people who died yesterday on his watch, the weird state of affairs between him and Ivey and now this. Another problem for him to deal with, another person dead because he was not strong enough to save them.

And his club…

It was!

Daniel wanted to rip out his hair. You can’t be excited about killing people, he mentally raged.

The clubs’ metaphorical tail was wagging furiously. It would do anything to be forgiven, and it felt bad, but the archer was already dead. It was apologetic.

The ridiculousness of his anger hit Daniel. This was his problem and not the clubs. The club was like a kid and didn’t know better.

Sorry, he thought the club had deserved that level of bile. Dan was projecting stuff onto it he shouldn’t have. The furious tail wagged. It got faster and if it could the club would spring at him and smothering him with licks. I over reacted. I just hate that I need to deal with this.

Marco, the archer across from him stared at him blankly. He was a lot like Mike a parody of a human who had already lost the ability to understand human social cues.

Sorry, he thought once again to the club, ignoring the archer who was still looking at him vacantly, inhuman. I was just overwhelmed.

More excuses. Daniel thought to himself, and frowned.

Marco, or more accurately the mind worm did not react at all to the expression, further proof that it needed to be put down.

“You could at least be honest in your own head,” he whispered.

The mind worm tilted Marco’s head but said nothing.

Daniel kept a careful eye on it and he could feel Priscilla coming to join him. She did not want him to be alone with the monster. He patted the club. “I’ll do better.”

Then he looked up at Marco with his resolve settling. It had to die, and the club might as well benefit from it when he did so. “Hey,” Daniel said in a friendly sort of way. The face opposite him did not visibly react. “What are you doing up?”

The man startled slightly as the mind worm registered Daniel was no longer talking to himself and was instead asking it a question.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Marco studied the carpet presumably to avoid making eye contact.

The answer was the obvious one. It was not like it would respond honestly. Daniel could imagine what that would be like. ‘My mind parasite won’t let me sleep.’ Hel chuckled darkly, appreciating that the mind worm could not understand the incongruous expression of emotion. “I know the feeling, mate.” He projected friendliness in his tone, attempting to give the impression of nothing to see here, even though it would probably do nothing. “Hey, I’m getting a beer. Do you want one?”

“Yes.” the man hesitated. “Maybe.”

“It won’t hurt.” Daniel assured him and ensuring he stayed well clear of Marco he walked over to the room that contained the alcohol. “Stay here,” Daniel ducked in grabbed two drinks and was revealed that Marco had not followed. Unfortunately, it was not cold and without Tamara’s magic or a similar ice magician there was nothing he could do about it. “Warm,” he apologised.

“OK.” The man said, making eye contact and this time the purple on the face was visible, so there was no point pretending there was any hope for him. He was an enslaved shell.

Daniel’s best play was probably to lure it into the kitchen and then kill Marco silently and dump the body out of the window. Hopefully, everyone would assume suicide or that the mind worm had gone rogue and done something stupid.

Marco was struggling to open the can and Daniel plucked it out of his hands and cracked it open before passing it back.

The worm had a sip. Then it studied the drink intently. “What are you doing after this?” it asked him.

“I was going to go upstairs and make sure everything is still dead.”

“I would like to come.”

Alternative options presented themselves to Daniel. Apart from the complications with the guard, if he could get Marco upstairs it would be easy to eliminate him. Better than someone discovering him doing the deed in the kitchen, witnessing the murder and then screaming about it. Words could not explain that away. “Why?”

“Nightmares.”

“What do you want to walk around and confirm it’s safe up there?”

“Yes.”

There was no emotion in the face. The Marco who had fought beside him, was dead. Out of the two ways available to dispose of this man, upstairs was the superior one. Even if everyone knew they had left at around about the same time, there was plausible deniability.

Plus, people were not stupid. Some would have noted the change in personality and the purple shades. While they may not be willing to act on their suspicions, they would be happy when the man disappeared and protect whomever they thought had allowed that to occur. The cowardly nature of humans would safeguard him. They would not want to confront their failures.

“Yeah, you can come.”

He just got a nod in response. No words, not even a smile of thanks. If he did not know what was up, his instincts would have been screaming warnings by now that something was very wrong with the man.

Daniel led and the other man followed a couple of metres behind. The positioning was deliberate on his part. He did not want anyone to believe there was coercion involved.

Priscilla had joined him and sat determinedly on his shoulder. Her eyes did not leave Marco, and Daniel knew she would not let herself be dislodged. When they reached the stairwell, the guard from earlier was not in sight.

Animal sense flashed out and Daniel found him sitting on a nearby toilet. He would have considered that lucky, but while his digestive system had been fine with the food, being served others had been less fortunate. He hurried up the stairs and went through the zombie barriers with Marco close behind. His skin crawled when he encouraged Marco to walk past him so Daniel could seal the stairwell barrier. The way Priscilla quivered on his shoulder and that the club withered in his hands protruding spikes meant he could not forget about the risk Marco represented for even a second.

Once past level twenty six and seven, the only two floors still with active enemies, he picked up the pace till Marco lagged half a flight behind.

Priscilla relaxed.

“Level thirty-six.”

Surprised, he looked back at the other man.

“You want to go to level thirty-six?”

“Yes.”

That was a little specific. There had to be something on the floor that the mind worm wanted. He wanted to send Priscilla, but there were still weasels, so he would not risk her.

“You’re a good mouse,” he told her, scratching her under the chin.

The image of the white and brown cavalier instead of chips was projected to him. It still had a hopeful overlay and Daniel had more than a suspicion about what the mouse was driving at.

“Later,” he promised.

Daniel pushed that complication aside through his mind continued to turn the problem over. Priscilla clearly wanted him to create a bond with the dog. The why was a different matter. He did not understand it. His first choice had been a scout and that had proven itself over and over again but for his next bond Daniel wanted something big. A monster with teeth that could fight for him and one he could ride into battle, preferably.

An image came to him of Priscilla riding the dog, and she was waving a small sword.

He chuckled, knowing that she was not serious, but it did not change the fact that Priscilla filled the scouting niche and his next pet should be tailored to help in battle. The dog did not meet those requirements. Then again Priscilla was not stupid, and she was adament that the dog was his best option.

“Sure,” he said easily to the mind worm. “I was going to walk around a random floor and that one is as good as any other.”

He kept walking up the stairs and stopped at level thirty-six. Alarm bells were ringing inside his brain. This mind worm was not behaving like Matt had. It had a purpose; the question was whether it wanted to kill him or if there was a different reason for its choice.

Chapter 4

They were here on level thirty six just like the mind worm wanted. Before he opened the door, he pulsed out animal sense.

Nothing.

Without an immediate ambush in front of the door, Daniel rushed out. Marco had not stopped moving, and he did not want the other man to get to within touching distance under any circumstances.

His eyes went left and right, and there were no visible weapons. Priscilla was backing him up spinning on his shoulder.

Animal Sense.

The magic flashed out. It swept into every room and explored the ceiling spaces. This was not a level the octopod had been on. There was life all around him. Weasels, still there but staying away from him, spiders but no giant ones, bugs including lightning ones. Basically, there was nothing large enough on the floor to challenge him apart from the man who was leaving the stairwell to enter the level proper. Daniel was confident that in straight out power he was in a whole different stratosphere to the mind worm and its Marco skin.

Daniel could afford to be curious.

Politely, he held the door open. “Feel free to explore.” Daniel offered. “Do you want me to tag along to make sure no monster gets you?”

The other man paused. Then looked down like he was thinking. “No, that is not necessary,” it said flatly.

“Ok I’ll wait here.”

Daniel had no intention of doing that. He would trail it and the mind worm as oblivious as it was it would have no idea. He would let the mind worm show him why it was here and then he would kill it.

Watching the body as it walked away, it appeared human. From this angle, it moved normally. Yet Daniel knew that the man’s eyes showed he was enslaved and his communication abilities hobbled. With that memory in mind, Daniel examined the gait more thoroughly. Everything was not so normal when he looked deeper. Marco seemed badly constipated and walked too carefully clearly observing every step he placed.

It was mimicry, nothing more.

The mind worm kept walking without glancing back. Daniel thought through the conversations that he had and with it and understood what he was seeing. During those exchanges it had been perfectly still with flat expressions like a simple conversation had taken all the mind worms concentration.

Currently, that limited brain activity was being directed toward walking.

With a singular focus, it walked straight into a wall. Curiously, Daniel stopped to observe. It looked right, then left, and went to the door. It tried to open it, but it was locked.

An inhumane cry of rage came from the creature.

Animal sense.

From this close, he felt. There were mind worms in the room. Juveniles who could barely be perceived, but they were there. The bloody thing wanted to bring babies back to infect everyone else.

Rage filled him.

Speed.

The club transformed in his hands as he brought it down to slam on the man’s head. The club directed him. A little extra strength and a higher arc, Daniel let himself be guided. The worm had to die.

Crunch.

The club slammed home on the crown of the head, and blood went everywhere. It might no longer be human, but the blood was just as red as Daniel’s own.

He felt sick. This is what his life had become. Those scientists who had doomed the world deserved to be tortured for all eternity.

Satisfaction radiated from the club even as red liquid continued to spray out of the gaping wound caused by the missing part of the skull. Daniel did not object to those emotions. The world was harsh, and they needed to get stronger to stop the monsters, to defeat true evil and to save the innocent. Little things like morality. He was happy to put them aside.

The body still stood, standing, blood pouring out, and then a full two seconds later it collapsed.

The club bubbled with excitement and just like he was grinding the octopod core away the weapon was doing the same to this new mind worm core. It was using the core’s power to grow and transform itself, and Daniel almost danced in delight as the club’s emotions overwhelmed his own. Happiness, splattering zombie brains, the thrill of thought, the joy of being harder than what he was crashing into. The pleasure of planning a battle. The…

“Quit it,” he snapped at the club. The overwhelming rush of excitement tampered but he could still feel it at the back of his throat. Muted emotions of bliss, but the club was trying so he did not tell it off again.

Daniel looked down at the dead body and then the door in front of him with the mind worms. He had to get in there to kill the worms and then break open a window to dispose of Marco’s body. He bent down and grabbed the back of Marco’s windcheater and T-shirt. A surge of strength pulsed through him and he pulled the body to the side and away from the door so he could get through.

A touch of his hands. There was a click of the lock releasing and then he dragged it open.

The stench assaulted him and he gagged, barely stopping himself from vomiting. It was feral. He had even been half expecting it after he had sensed the four juvenile mind worms. It hadn’t helped. With a gasp, he stumbled away and looked in askance at the door.

The worms were too dangerous to leave. He had to go in. Resigned, he pulled the T-shirt over his nose and went to step forward. The stink of liquefied flesh went through the thin fabric on his nose like it was not even there.

He lumbered away, touched a door on the other side of the corridor, and his fingers gouged out a chunk of wood. Within in his hand it came to life, split in two and softened. Then he pushed the pieces into his nose just like you would a nose plug. With a spurt of growth, they perfectly sealed his nose.

When he went back to the room, he had to breathe through his mouth and the air felt thick and cloying, blocked nose or not. The scent was still present, though the edge had been taken off it.

“Focus,” he hissed at himself.

Animal sense confirmed conditions had not changed, and he eased into the apartment. His trusty club in his hands up in a ready position. Priscilla, he realised was no longer on his shoulder. She had retreated down the corridor.

Coward, he thought at her.

Unapologetic amusement came back.

Daniel moved into the apartment. There was a hallway that opened into a living room and an open-plan kitchen. There were rusted pots scattered around. Why some were left pristine and others reduced to looking like this remained a mystery. The fridge, unlike the pans, looked almost as good as new. He was not brave enough to check what had happened to the food within it.

Another short corridor with three doors coming off that. The mind worms were in the closest. The door was open and when he peered in. He saw the body on the bed. The corpse had been an enormous man, two hundred kilograms plus and liquid was spread out around him clearly leaking from the other man and despite that the stomach looked engorged like if you touched it then it would wobble violently if not explode.

The mind worms were still in the body and not actively hunting.

The club half merged its senses with his and then immediately highlighted four spots to hit. Thigh, stomach, and the right and left sides of the chest under the rib cage.

“That’s leaking body fluid,” he whispered as his eyes picked up more details. “And the stomach is definitely bloated.” Daniel remembered the dead cow that had looked like that and then what happened when Anthony had thrown a small boulder at it. “That’s definitely a build-up of gas.”

Daniel really wanted to retreat. When the rock hit the cow, they weren’t close to it. They had thought they were safe. They had been wrong, and they all ended up having to jump into the dam, and it had not been a hot day.

Hope and steady resolve came from the club. It wanted to eat, but it is also understood that these things had to die. It had felt Daniel’s emotional reaction to the one in Marco both when it entered and later when he executed it. The club knew these had to die and Daniel knew it too.

“I guess I don’t have a choice.” Sympathy emanated from Priscilla still safe in the middle of the corridor well out of splatter range.

Animal sense.

Partially, it was to ensure the worms had not moved, but mainly to make certain there were no weasels near his mouse. He did not believe that any were active on this floor, but it was always important to check.

She was safe.

Even if there had been weasels, Daniel was sure that his loud presence would have driven them into hiding. That was just biology at work. You ran from creatures stronger than you.

The body was bloated.

Daniel hesitated once more. What happened when you hit something bloated? Pressurised air had to be filling the stomach combining with rotting insides. It was so going to explode. The club urged him on.

“Fuck off.”

More encouragement flooded the link between them. Priscilla retreated a little further away, spinning around in amusement. She was not helping with images of him covered in a brown and green sludge. She must have plucked that memory from the cow and embellished it.

Every time she re-sent the image she added more and more realistic details. Different shades to the muck, dripping liquid, and an extremely lifelike splatter pattern. The vision struck him again. This time it included taste.

He almost vomited in response. “Stop.”

An image of him quickly hitting the required spots came back to him. Her message was simple.

Stop procrastinating.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

The club communicated what it wanted. Move his feet up into position. Club over the shoulder and then swing along this precise trajectory.

He swung.

Pop.

Gunk splattered his face. Eyes, lips, mouth. Gagging then vomiting everywhere, Priscilla had not got the taste right. With his nose plugs, he could not smell properly, but it wouldn’t surprise him if his vomit improved the aromatics of the room.

Don’t wipe your face, he told himself. It would just make it worse.

More, more, more the club chanted in his mind. He allowed its chant to carry him forward.

The next blow did not splatter as much, the third on the ribs did. The last tried to burrow away, but it did not save it and the club ate all four.

Liquid crusted his face, and there was a desire to either rub it or lick his lips. Daniel resisted the impulses well aware of how disgusting that would be and ran to the fridge. He yanked the door open only to have the entire thing come off and almost fall on him. It had looked unaffected, but that was clearly not the case. With a heave of strength, he pushed it away, and it landed with a crash.

The inside of the fridge was as bad as he thought. The veggies had mold growing on them. Whatever was in the milk bottle was no longer what came out of the cow. There were separate layers in the liquid.

A half drunk two litre coke bottle caught his eyes. Daniel grabbed, opened it to zero fizz and then poured it on his face, rubbing furiously the whole time. Once, twice, three times, and then he went to the cupboard and saw another bottle. This one, when he opened it did the opposite of the other. It fizzed like someone had been shaking the bottle for minutes. He did not care he kept using it to wash his face. It was a weird sensation, having the bubbly liquid running over skin and lips. Finally, with most of the noxious splatter scrubbed away he stumbled out of the room, shutting the door and promising himself to never touch a half decomposed body again.

“From now on, minions deal with the decomposing corpses.” Neither Priscilla nor the club found his statement funny. In fact, the club offended by the idea. He glanced down at the body that used to be Marco and the pool of blood around the head. There was nothing he could do about the mess, but he needed to dispose of the corpse. After that, by the time anyone else came up this way, the only sign they would see would be old blood. Hopefully, they would not be able to tell whether it was human, feral, animal or even how long it had been there.

With a curse, he went into the apartment next to the one with the decomposing corpse. Just like the mind worm infested one there were balcony doors. Daniel went over and tugged them. They did not move. He triggered strength, pulled again, and the plastic door handle crumbled in his hands.

“Oops.” Daniel studied the problem. Glass door with metal plastic fittings and no convenient plant material to shape in order to let him open it easily. “Not magic,” then he looked at the disintegrated handle, “or strength.” Daniel thought for a moment, his mind considering scenes from movies. A single blow from the club would shatter the glass, however he didn’t want to do that because he could imagine monsters flying and having cleared the floor, he did not new enemies to come in. Alternatively, he could jimmy the lock. His club would not be useful, and there were no convenient crowbars lying around behind him. “Hmm, maybe you’re overthinking this.” Daniel’s mind kept going. If he could create a trap capable of cutting a speed feral in half, then how hard will it be to bust a cheap lock with magic?

All he needed to do was to introduce a seed or a bit of wood and then bam. He had seen trees break granite when they grew. With a spark of an idea, he looked around and spotted the table.

Wood! Everything else would be easy now. He placed his hand lightly on the wood and stroked it. A dribble of power leaked out and his intent fused that energy. Daniel guessed he was using spell specialisation and plant growth in tandem to get the result he was after, but less than three seconds after his fingers had touched the table a tiny vine sprang up from it and curled around his middle finger.

This tiny bit of life was all that he required. Smiling to himself, he pressed his finger against the locking mechanism that was still in the door even if the plastic handle component had broken off. A spurt of energy infused the vine and then it grew. Small tendrils found gaps between the door and support, others made their way into the lock mechanism. In moments, the previously barren space of metal, glass and plastic was filled with his plant life. Everyone of those spaces for air was gone.

“This is going to be spectacular,” he whispered to himself.

There was a squeak from his shoulder and a sense of doubt reached.

“Just watch little Miss.”

His magic poured into the plant, insisting that it grow. The bits of vines within the mechanism did exactly what he demanded.

There was nowhere for it to expand.

Clack!

The noise rang through the apartment and then there was a cacophony of cracking and splintering sounds as the lock gave way.

Pop.

The entire plant, complete with handle and lock, fell onto the floor.

Daniel looked at the green plant entangled within the lock and then remembered next door having to go outside to find the wood to create the nose plugs and here having to use the table. They were unnecessary delays. Yes, they had not cost anything today but some day.

He frowned and hit his leg in annoyance. Sometimes he was a fool. He reached down to the plant mass, and it responded. First it coiled out of the mess of metal and plastic and then like a snake, slithered up and wrapped itself around his own wrist. This was something he should have done long ago. At all times, he should carry living plant material to use as a base just in case he was ever trapped in a concrete expanse like the stairs or the lobby downstairs. Without access to wood or plants, his miraculous growth ability was useless. For now, he would use the vine, but later he would check to see if seeds were better. After all, if he used a seed he would not need to supply the initial burst of energy.

The club stirred and there was a request for power which he granted automatically and then the vine around his wrist which the handle of the club was touching glowed. Half of the material slid off his hand and wrapped around the club. The weapon sucked more energy from him and that small vine kept growing till it covered the shaft like a thin green spider web.

Satisfaction radiated from his weapon and he got the distinct sense that the club was now more.

Daniel was not sure how it worked, but apparently the club had upgraded itself. Tomorrow, he would get Tamara to confirm either way.

“Have you upgraded?”

Smug excitement emitted out from it.

“I swear you’re learning bad habits off, Priscilla. Becoming cheeky.”

Apology and denial radiated from the club.

Followed a moment later by a blast of anger from the mouse when she realised that the two of them were mocking her.

He swished the club through the air. There was a weight and a finish to it that just screamed power. Visually, it had been improved and when he swung it, the weapon felt more substantial than a wooden club had any right to be. It was now a work of art and both because of the latent energy it contained and its upgraded appearance anyone looking at it would now assume it was a master crafted piece. Then, if they touched it, then that assessment might increase further.

“You’re beautiful.” Priscilla was suddenly cuddling into his neck. “You too.” He said with a laugh.

He pushed the balcony door open and despite the lock having been busted right off it the tracks were warped and almost unusable. It took a boost of strength to shift it, and the metal bottom screeched like it was being tortured. In the end, in respect for his ears he only opened it halfway before turning to get the corpse.

Marco was floppy, and Daniel dragged him all the way to the open door. Then he engaged the strength to lift the body out onto the balcony.

Animal sense.

Logically it was unnecessary, but it felt strange to be planning to go outside and he was worried that some bird monster might have taken up residence on a nearby balcony and would get offended at his presence.

Once more, there was nothing. The world might be changed, but it still mostly displayed logical rules. Monsters did not repopulate immediately after you killed them like in a game. Or did they? Bloody Oath that was another thing to check with Ivey. Then he remembered they were fighting. Something to verify with Tamara?

Carefully, he squeezed out and assessed the stability of the small standing area outside the building. It creaked alarmingly. Maybe the best play was to open the door further and throw Marco from the safety of the room.

There was movement in the balcony’s corner.

Alarm ran through him as he spun to check it out. Calming thoughts came from both the club and Priscilla. The pot plant in the corner was growing and then he noticed a vine stretched from the club to connect to the plant. Roots were spreading into the apartment and the stem was bending over and coming toward him.

Images were pushed into his mind, and he understood what the weapon intended. Daniel forced himself to relax quietly, impressed by how much the plant had transformed using only the club’s mana. Even though about half the work was done, it was not complete, and the club asked for extra magic and Daniel relaxed and let it flow out.

In a short period, the stem had looped around both legs, chest, and over each arm. He was not slipping out of the harness and the roots were embedded firmly into the plaster walls and then twisted around the internal support struts.

Ready, it was not words only a feeling of intent from the club.

With a shaky step, Dan stepped onto the balcony. It groaned but did not bend. He looked over the edge, but it was too dark to see much. Ideally, he would have liked to have thrown the body into some trees, hoping it would fall through and be invisible from above afterwards, but that was not an option.

“Here goes.”

Daniel engaged strength, seized the body lifted it briefly above his head and threw. There was a creak and the sounds of supports breaking and the whole balcony shifted abruptly, tilting forward for a long moment Daniel expect it to collapse but then it stabilised. It was now at a twenty-degree angle. Slowly and carefully, Daniel retreated, appreciating the club’s caution. He had not really believed that the platform could fail, but it almost had, and if it had the vines, the club had grown would have saved. It took three steps to get him safety, and the balcony swayed and moved with everyone of them.

The club felt his concern and the stem around his torso tightened reassuringly. Finally he got his feet firmly in the apartment and the plant fell away actively withering as the club drew its energy back into itself. Daniel’s eyes focused on the half-open door. Part of him knew it was pointless, but it felt wrong to leave the apartment like that. With a sigh, he stepped up to the door and half slid, but mostly lifted the door and carried into the shut position. It did not fit properly and below the handle there was a gap you could fit a fist through.

He shrugged. There was not much else he could do, but at least nothing large could get through the gap. One last look at where Marco had been thrown, and then he walked away. It was funny a week ago dropping a body off a thirty-sixth floor balcony would have a been a way to guarantee being caught, but today it was like the perfect crime.

Not that he had done anything wrong. Marco had already been dead. All he had done was remove the mind worm threat in a way that spared others from being part of the gruesome process. He wondered what they would think if they knew. Did anyone spy him leading Marco up here? Did that guard on the toilet had notice? If so, would he talk? If they knew what would they say?

Beau, then Marco, if they linked to some suspicious minds would see a pattern. How many people who he interacted daily with thought he was a bloodthirsty dictator. If they knew he had killed another person in cold blood, what would they think? Especially if they found out about the patch of fur on his back. Did he care?

He shut the apartment door behind him. Not locking it as it had been unlocked during their sweep earlier in the day. He glanced towards the blood pool and guilt filled him.

Did he care? “Be the man.” he said out loud to the empty corridor. He would do what it took to save Trudy’s kids. That is what he had sworn, and that was what he would do. If he had to be the bad guy, then that is the role he would take.

With a sigh, he checked his mana, but the club was draining him of everything as it recharged.

Curiously, he used his wood sense ability to plunge into the club.

It was like running into a brick wall. For all intents and purposes, the club was no longer made of wood, or at least it had too much energy packed into it for him to view it. Yet his energy kept draining away.

“How about this? You can drain me when I am above ninety-five percent.”

The pull on his energy stopped.

“That way, you get the magic you need eventually, but I will have power for emergencies.”

An embarrassed acknowledgement came back from the club. It was upgrading itself, which was a good thing not a bad one. If it used his mana before the regeneration was wasted that was the perfect result. Just don’t smack me dry.

More embarrassment flowed through the bond. He patted the club. He was glad he had it and now it was time to confirm what was in the chest.