"That's everyone," Taylor reported with a sigh, "Except for Mr. Whitman and his little group, but they're unlikely to cause any incidents."

Elania nodded. The vast majority of the people who had sought refuge on Earth from the Tide had only been peripherally aware of Earth beforehand and hadn't caused any trouble. They'd enjoyed movie nights and had fallen in love with Tex-Mex and Thai food.

There had only been a few incidents, notably when a native of Earth, Amber Crestwell, had rather successfully resisted arrest. She'd left three dozen police offers entangled in vines that had required chainsaws and the jaws of life to release them.

Anni, one of the Endless, had decided that the Catholic Church's list of saints needed an update and had vandalized over a hundred Churches in a week-long spree of mischief, adding statues of Robert Whitman, along with his UtahRaptor, Jake, and his Maine-coon cat, Monroe. She'd included a list of his notable achievements and a suggestion for votive offerings.

Eddi, another one of the Endless, had visited various elementary schools, offering dinosaur rides to the children. Interviews with the excitable teen had been recorded by all of the major networks, and his clueless enthusiasm had endeared him to the masses. Some of the anchors had taken him up on the offer of rides as well, and there was a clip of a gleeful Don Lemon and a maniacal Tucker Carlson engaged in a triceratops drag race. Elania felt that it was perhaps the strongest show of bipartisanship either had ever demonstrated.

Aside from those incidents, the entire event had proceeded smoothly. The forces they'd sent to test the Tide had returned with injuries but no casualties. The injured had been seen to, healing magic reducing even those small numbers to zero.

"On another note, having live television broadcasts with reputable anchors has solidified the belief that Thayland is real, and thus that the integration of Earth is coming," Taylor continued. "While the conspiracy nut jobs are still pushing back against the narrative, the average American is much more accepting, the most recent poll showing that seventy-nine percent have accepted that they'll need to leave Earth for a bit, with forty percent stating that they are eager to become adventurers, with that number skewing much higher in the eighteen to thirty demographic."

"Everyone is going to have to get on board sooner rather than later," Elania replied. "The new reality is going to be especially harsh to some of our citizens."

"Fuck!"

Bob turned to find Dave slumped on the ground, shaking his hand.

"This is really fucking hard," Dave grumbled.

"I did warn you," Bob said apologetically.

"How long did it take you?" Amanda asked.

"A couple of months," Bob replied, then grinned. "Except I was dumb and used Eldritch Blast." He shook his head. "It took me way too long to realize that I should have been using Anima Blast, that way if it blew up, it was less likely to blow off one of my fingers."

Dave shook his head and stood back up. "I know it'll be worth doing, but damn, that smarts."

Bob nodded sympathetically. They were on their second week of practicing system-less casting, and the results were mixed. It seemed that Amanda had a natural aptitude for it, and she'd managed to successfully cast an Anima Blast spell the day before. The rest of the group was still struggling with holding the threads of mana in place.

"I have to admit that this does feel more like magic," Dave said.

"Right?" Jessica replied, "I mean, just sort of using commands to make the magic happen through the system is convenient and all, but it sort of takes the magic out of magic."

"I felt the same way," Bob agreed. "Pushing mana into the system provided pattern, while the system does all the heavy lifting is easy, and I'm grateful for it, but when I free cast that Arcane Depths ritual, I felt a real sense of accomplishment."

"That took you like, seventeen hours, I'd hope you felt a sense of accomplishment when you were done," Dave grinned.

"It's just that there's more to magic than what has been codified by the system," Bob mused. "Take the repair spell. As far as I can tell, it converts air into whatever material the object is missing and then sort of rewinds it to its original state. Which I would think would be closer to the school of Chronomancy."

"That whole one second per tier rule on healing or repairs is weird," Amanda agreed.

"It doesn't make much sense," Bob agreed. "The system wants us to spend mana, so why the restriction?"

'The energy requirements to monitor and maintain accurate records of every single object in proximity to a user that has those skills is extreme, and the longer the record is kept, the greater the amount of energy that is required,' Trebor explained. 'This is one of the primary motivations behind requiring mana expenditures based on the skills a user possesses, as constantly cycling that mana will provide the necessary energy for the record-keeping.'

"I wonder if you can use a threshold bonus or a capstone to extend it," Bob muttered.

"That would be bloody brilliant for a healer," Jessica stated. "If you could pick up your tier a couple of times, you'd have a lot larger window to get the healing out."

"When I first went to Harbordeep, I delved a few times with a team as their shields and backup heals. There was a lot of effect over time casting, preloading shields and heals just in case," Bob said.

"Well, I think healing spells are a no-brainer, as far as system-less casting," Amanda grimaced, "especially considering the upcoming changes."

"Keep in mind you'll only be able to use them ritually," Bob shook his head. "Given enough time and practice, you might be able to develop a single spell to the point where you could cast it within a few seconds, but that would require some serious dedication."

"Time is something we aren't really going to be short on anymore," Jessica replied. "I can dedicate half an hour a day for the next hundred years or so toward making sure that even when I reincarnate, I can still heal myself or my friends."

"I second that," Dave agreed.

"Third," Amanda added.

"Your Majesty," Thidwell rumbled, bowing from the waist.

"Thidwell," Kellan nodded, then gestured for the man to take a seat across from him.

"Feel free to try anything you'd like," Kellan said, "Earth has so many different cuisines."

Thidwell eyed the collection of dishes spread across the table. He recognized a few of them, while others were completely alien. Picking up a roundish doughball, he bit into it, then chewed thoughtfully. It was filled with some sort of shredded meat in a sweet and spicy sauce.

Swallowing, he cleared his throat. "I'd like to discuss putting a plan in place to repeat the evacuation for the next tide and those to follow," Thidwell said.

"I suppose it is possible that Earth would be willing to facilitate an arrangement of that sort," Kellan replied, "I've mentioned the possibility, and Elania seemed amiable."

"I was thinking of a more local solution," Thidwell began. "Honestly, I think that Earth is going to have its own troubles after their mana awakens. I've spent quite a bit of time learning about their world, and a large percentage of their people, especially those from the western countries, just aren't going to be tough enough to make it. I think that no matter how many people we save, they're going to lose a quarter or maybe half of their population because they won't be willing or able to adapt. Regardless, one of Bob's initial plans was to put everyone on Earth into orbit in order to save them."

Kellan grimaced. "I'm not sure how many of them will fail, they may surprise you with their resiliency. Still, there will certainly be a period of acclimation. As far as placing people into orbit, I'm assuming you mean some sort of space station?"

Thidwell nodded. Travel between planets had been hypothesized, and he understood the idea well enough, although the number of crystals that would be required was staggering. Or would have been before Glacier Valley had started producing hundreds of millions of them each month.

One of the things he most enjoyed about Earth was that, with a few exceptions, they didn't hoard knowledge. Their scientists practically worshipped it, constantly testing and refining ideas, even those that had been accepted as truth. As a native of Thayland, had Thidwell built a space station, he would have likely created a stone construct and used magic to handle the creation of air, water, and heat. It would have been expensive and incredibly inefficient. Having done a small amount of research on Earth, he knew that by building a habitat from lighter materials with proper seals, he could reduce the costs for maintaining each person to a tenth, or possibly even less, of what his original design would have required.

"Building from the work the people of Earth have already done, in conjunction with carefully designed rituals, I think we could ensure that no one ever need die in a tide again," Thidwell rumbled.

He took another bite of the steamed dough-meat ball and waited. He understood the King a little better now than he had before. Thidwell still didn't agree with the King's hands-off policy towards his Nobles and their predations, but he could at least understand the reasoning behind it.

"I imagine that finding scientists from Earth who would be eager to be involved in this sort of project wouldn't be terribly difficult," Kellan mused.

Thidwell nodded. His only experience with scientists from Earth was with Bob and Amber. Bob was truly driven, and after a long period of adjustment, Amber had devoted herself as well. He had independently confirmed her verticle farming structures in conjunction with a partially closed ecosystem and was preparing to present her with a pamphlet to review before publishing it. Natural production with that arrangement was truly outstanding and represented an improvement, overall, in current methods. The true value was seen when ritual magic was applied, which pleased Thidwell deeply. His deepest desire was to see every man, woman, and child in Greenwold delving regularly, growing more powerful.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the King's voice.

"Under normal circumstances, I could apply a minor increase in taxes to fund a project like this, but thanks to the efforts of our friends from Earth, I find my hoard overflowing with crystals, so shouldering the expense won't hurt too badly," Kellan grimaced, likely at the thought of sacrificing any crystals from his hoard, for any reason. "Do you wish to spearhead this project?"

Thidwell nodded. He'd be damned if he'd let some corrupt noble fuck it up.

"Normally, I'd hint that a Noble seat could be rewarded for an outstanding effort and delivery of a flawless solution," Kellan sighed, "but somehow, I doubt you're interested in that."

"No," Thidwell said firmly. "No, I'm not."

The King had explained to him in detail exactly why he hadn't acted immediately after his father's demise, as well as the actions he had taken later. The King considered the matter closed.

"Well, I'll instruct Ericka to open an account for the project," Kellan continued, "I'm sure you'll provide accurate records of expenses."

Thidwell could only nod as he finished his steamed dough-meat ball. There were many things people could say about him, not all of them kind, but he was scrupulously honest.

Bob sighed as he settled back into the grind. He'd taken almost two weeks off, and it was time to put in the work.

Sadly the work was summoning Jake, letting him tear apart a few monsters, then resummoning a fresh copy of him.

These monsters were just too much for him to tackle with anything else. The lure of increased coalescence of mana crystals, as well as the extremely outside possibility of an Attribute Crystal, were what kept him going.

Still, he'd had a productive break. He'd gotten his friends started on systemless casting, as well as making sure they knew about the Arcane Depths. His plan was moving along nicely, and if things proceeded at the current pace, he'd have everything he needed for reincarnation three months before integration.

The plan was to wait for integration to reincarnate. It was tempting to jump in beforehand, but ultimately Amanda had convinced him that holding out for the natural Affinity was worth it. Her argument had been that he was going to be spending a long time at tier seven anyway, so the additional experience and crystal requirements weren't that important. Further, he could use it to pick up an Affinity he wouldn't otherwise be able to obtain. He was considering Invocation.

He was in the unique position of being able to utilize any invocation spells. They were normally locked behind Divine Blessings, but due to his system access, he could have any of them. On the other hand, he didn't want to impersonate a priest.

He could also go with Melee. Stacking effect over time skills that had Affinities would allow him to be a versatile, powerful fighter. No one was likely to suspect Bob of becoming a melee specialist, and if he worked Monroe into his path, he could conceivably bump the floof up to tier seven combat potential. While he wasn't eager to see Monroe get hurt, if Bob acted as a beacon, Monroe could fade and act the part of the back-clawing rogue.

Bob knew that Monroe was growing increasingly bored and restless. His inventory didn't have any prey for him to hunt, and at tier four, he couldn't really do anything useful against a level fifty-six monster. With Bob spending eighteen hours a day delving, his buddy was feeling a bit neglected.

The other side of that argument was that he didn't want to force Monroe into combat.

So many choices.

Ultimately, he had enough skills maxed that when he adjusted his path as a peak tier six, he could pick up almost any Affinity he wanted. He wouldn't have to live with the path, as skill levels would remain, and he'd be immediately reincarnating.

He wanted to shrug off his paranoia, but he'd received several unsolicited messages from unknown numbers on both his Earth and Thayland cellphones, some offering undefined compensation for a meeting to discuss 'mutual interests,' others taking a more threatening tone, insinuating that it would be in his best interest to meet with them.

He'd known that people would eventually become suspicious of his insights into the system, or at least they would if he shared them. He couldn't carry the burden of not sharing them, given the potential to save lives, so he'd had to accept that eventuality. His friends had accepted his insights without pressuring him, but it was clear that others had noticed as well, and weren't going to be quite so understanding.