“Not to mention that bread is only a small part of what we can eat,” Cruz added as she hugged her sister. “All we have to do is to introduce some modern dietary knowledge to the locals and make sure that they have access to the alternatives as well.”

“Speaking about alternative food sources,” Fabien spoke up after being quiet for an awfully long time. “We should start planting fruit trees and bushes as well. After all, we’re going to need fruits for a lot of different things.”

“We could create a small Orchard with five or six trees from each type.”

“Apples, peaches and pears seem to be quite common in the Shardlands,” Letty remarked. “They also tend to be quite bountiful from what I’ve been told.”

“They most certainly are,” Bray agreed with a wistful expression on his face. “I remember Mudbrook had an orchard of nearly one hundred trees when I was younger than you lot. We held a small harvest festival every autumn where the villagers would present the best fruit dishes they could make. Those hundred trees not only yielded enough fruit to keep us fed during the winter, but we also had enough to trade for some much-needed things.”

Here the old potter looked at Regis.

“If you could create some higher grade trees, they would not only feed your people but could also serve as a good source of coin. Something I’m sure you’re in great need of.”

“Well,” Regis coughed slightly. “We’re indeed a bit low on money currently, but hopefully my enchanting skills will help with that.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to make this village thrive.” Bray said with a reassuring tone before he began to eat his share of the meat stew.

“Okay,” Valerie hummed. “Things turned a bit dreary, so let’s talk about something nice now, shall we?”

“I broke through to tier two this afternoon.” Osmond stated with a matter-of-fact tone, earning a baffled look from everyone.

“What? Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Cruz asked with an indignant tone.

“I wanted to surprise all of you.”

“You succeeded,” Quentin remarked as he finished his meal. “So, what class did you get?”

“I’m officially a ‘Bone Puppeteer Magus’ and yes, it is a stupid name. Looks like something went awry during its translation back home, that’s why it was recorded differently.”

“What did you call it back home?”

“Skeletal Necromancy or Skeletal Necromancer.” The pale youth recalled the name.

“Yeah, I think the Earth version sounds better,” Regis claimed as he too finished eating. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Damn it,” Valerie grumbled. “I’m still one spirit point away from meeting the ‘Sanguine Warlock’ class’ requirements.”

“You should go hunting or something.” Fabien advised.

“Do you have some spare Amaranth?” the dark elf asked. “I found a couple of miscellaneous constellation charts back in East Fork. One of them grants a point in mind and spirit.”

“Really,” the infernal woman perked up. “Why didn’t you tell me about it earlier?”

“It was there for everyone to see in the library,” Osmond stated. “You should have taken the time to look around.”

“I… I had other things to do. Anyway, can you show it to me?”

“I’ll be back.” The spell weaver said before heading up to his room.

He brought down his ‘endless’ tome and turned the pages to the one depicting the five animal-shaped star charts.

“The dove is supposed to raise your faith and spirit attributes.”

“Nice,” Valerie hummed as she stared at the drawings. What about the rest?”

“The bear gives might and vigour while the snake governs allure and erudition. The wolf grants deftness and willpower.”

“What about the fish?” Letty asked as she too looked at the drawings.

“The fish was recorded to raise the luck and mind attributes, but I was told that luck would only grow if fate willed it.”

“An it’s up to fate whether you find the constellation of the fish or not,” Bray said with an aged smile. “Don’t take everything you’re told by the Heart for granted, It can be a bit vague sometimes and that can make people misunderstand things.”

“So it would seem,” The dark elf sighed as he looked back at the constellation charts. “They’re still expensive though. Twenty-one hundred to push one of these to the gold rank is no joke.”

“It’s worth it,” the infernal woman stated. “Once I step into tier two, I’ll be able to do more and thus, gain more Amaranth.”

“It’s getting late,” Mary yawned as she gathered the now-empty plates. “We should turn in for the night.”

“I second that.” Letty said.

“Same.” The rest of the group agreed while standing up from the table.

“Good night youngsters,” Bray said his goodbyes with a slight yawn as Regis escorted him to the door of the inn. “You should get some rest as well. You look really worn out.”

“I’ll try,” the spell weaver promised. “Goodnight Bray.”

As the elderly potter left, Regis let out a sigh and headed toward the stairs.

“Good night everyone.” He said over his shoulder I still left his yawning companions behind.

Once back in his room, the dark elf lit the enchanted lamp before closing his door. He was tired. So tired. It was different from the usual weariness he’d feel at the end of a busy day. It felt heavy as if he was wearing clothes made of lead. His muscles ached and his mind wanted nothing more than to drift away. He looked at the always uncomfortable bed that seemed to have been calling out to him like a fluffy cloud. It all felt... WRONG!

‘This isn't natural!’ Regis roared in his mind and his eyes snapped wide open as he slammed the end of the magic staff he instinctively grabbed on the ground. A loud ringing sound reverberated as the crystal flashed brightly. His willpower-infused arcana bellowed out like a sonar pulse, hitting the walls and pushing through them. He felt his power spread out, touching the now unconscious bodies of his companions. Golden words flared into life right in front of his eyes as he greeted his teeth.

{You have pushed through the ritual that bewitched you. The curse of ‘dreamless sleep’ was negated. Your Willpower permanently increased by 1.}

“Son of a bitch!” He growled and opened his door, rushing downstairs and out of the inn.

A second pulse released by his magic staff rippled through the village square, hitting the nearby buildings and something else. Something that he could not see with his bare eyes yet could still feel its presence. ‘There you are.’ The spell weaver thought as runes formed above the tip of his staff, turning into a raging ball of fire before bursting forward with a breakneck speed. It barely flew forward ten or so meters before it exploded upon hitting the invisible presence.

It was as if the fire burst apart the mystical bubble that hid the source of the foreign magic. A moment later screams filled the village as the sight of burning soldiers came into sight. At least half a dozen figures were standing there with the two at the front now wailing as they fell on the floor, charred and dying.

“Bastard!” Regis heard one of the still-living assailants yell while trying to put out the sticky fire that splashed onto their arm. A hooded figure stood behind the still burning remains of the two caught in Regis’ first attack, the fire illuminating a feminine face and a pair of glowing bright azure eyes. The spell weaver didn’t give his newfound enemies a chance to retaliate, his second spell sending a bolt of lightning toward the soldiers as they were trying to move around their charred comrades.

His attack caught one of the iron-plated warriors in the chest, arcing to the right as it jumped over to the nearest assailant beside him. While the first one crumpled, shaking uncontrollably from the sudden electric shock, the second soldier barely seemed to register that he was struck while rushing forward. A heavy, two-handed sword flashed with a baleful red light as it made its way toward Regis’ chest.

The dark elf tried to step to the side while stabbing forward with his bladestaff, but his opponent changed his attack’s direction, easily swatting aside the staff before ramming into the spell weaver’s chest using his armoured shoulder. Regis flew back a good two metres, rolling on the ground for another two.

“You will pay for...” The warrior with the two-handed sword tried to say something before a fire arrow struck him in the chest, a mere second later a metal shield bashed into him as a familiar figure rushed him.

“Regis!” The dark elf heard Letty’s voice from behind as several more fire arrows burst forward right beside Quentin.

The paladin stood his ground and banged at his shield, his domain lighting up the area around him.

“What the hell happened?” Valerie asked, her voice equally annoyed and furious. “One moment we were talking about tomorrow’s tasks, the next we woke up on the ground, hearing someone screaming.”

“They used some kind of ritual called the ‘curse of dreamless sleep’ to knock everyone out.”

“How did you...”

“High willpower.” The spell weaver stated as he got back to his feet while Fabien rushed toward the soldiers behind the two-handed sword-wielding man with Cruz following close behind.

“Less talking, more fighting!” Cruz yelled as she smashed her heavy staff down at her opponent, an audible crack resounding from the shield she struck.

Fabien’s sword crackled with lightning as he began to duel with his quarry. Quentin had his hands full with his own enemy while Osmond summoned his skeletal hell-hound and sent it out against the last armoured intruder standing beside the hooded figure. The pale youth wanted to sic his second skeletal summon on the hooded figure, but he heard Regis call out to him.

“Don’t!” the dark elf said as he saw the stranger kneel on the ground with her hands raised in the air.

The hands were visibly tied together with something, which made him hesitate.

“Keep an eye on that one, but don’t attack unless necessary.” He ordered as he moved toward the warrior who seemed to be on equal footing with Quentin.

The spell weaver stabbed forward with a ‘phasing’ strike, catching his busy attacker on the side, the blade staff’s tip skidding off the armour, leaving a deep groove on it. His enemy tried to retaliate but he now had to split his attention between two opponents.

“Who are you?” Quentin asked, his domain’s power failing him as the man simply huffed out some black smoke without slowing down his attacks.

“I asked you,” the paladin growled as he channelled more power into his domain. “WHO. ARE. YOU?”

“I am… ugh.” The intruder tried to resist the empowered domain, staggering for a short moment that allowed Regis to stab him in the side of his sternum where the armour joints were the weakest.

A pained growl escaped the soldier’s mouth just before the death scream of one of his fellows filled the air. A thick crossbow bolt drilled itself into the intruder’s chest, making him fall backwards before Cruz caved in his head with a heavy strike.

“What in the Seven’s grace is going on?” Durnan yelled as he lowered his crossbow to reload it.

It proved unnecessary as the two skeleton summons ripped out the throat of another intruder while Fabien managed to overpower his opponent thanks to an arrow shot by Sophie who appeared at the door of the smithy with Amanda in tow. The man with the two-handed sword half-turned toward the kneeling figure, his voice booming with pain and rage.

“Do something, witch! If we…” His voice got cut off by the blade staff’s tip that stabbed him through the throat before he could finish those words.

The man’s eyes widened as he reached up to grab the iron blade, his tenacity and strength evident by how he managed to pull it out halfway before the dark elf cast a ‘runic greater fire arrow’ which struck the warrior at point blank range. The bloody wound sizzled and exploded as the spell tore the man’s throat and spine apart, making his head fall back with barely any flesh and skin holding it. The soldier collapsed on the ground, wide-eyed and lifeless. With all the intruders except the hooded figures dead, everyone let out a brief and relieved sigh before Letty broke the silence.

“Was that all of them?” She asked worried, her question soon answered.

“There’s no one else left.” The hooded figure spoke with a frail and nervous tone.

“And who are you?” Regis asked as he walked closer, carefully pulling the stranger back on her feet while the others were ready to strike at the first sign of trouble.

“My name is Zola,” she answered while pulling her hood back with her tied hands. “Zola Vidal.”

“Vidal,” the dark elf hummed. “As in house Vidal? The family of the lord that’s been messing with us?”

“Yes,” Zola nodded sadly. “That’s my father, Arley Vidal.”

“Why are you here?” Quentin asked as his domain’s light flared up around the young woman.

“They forced me to come here to put you all to sleep so that they could deal with you without any trouble.” The honest answer resounded.

“They forced you? A noble lady?” Valerie looked at her both puzzled and surprised.

“I am… my mother was a servant of the house so….”

“You’re a bastard child.” Regis finished her thoughts while cutting the ropes that tied her hands together.

“My father kept me around in case he would need to use me for an alliance marriage, but after I inherited my mother’s Shardwaker mark, things changed.”

“You gained a unique class, didn’t you?” Osmond deduced, earning a slow nod from Zola.

“I think we should bring this inside,” Amanda noted as she walked closer, looking at the frightened villagers slowly coming out of their homes to see the source of the ruckus. “You should say something to them, Regis. You’re the lord here after all.”

“Return to your homes for the night,” the spell weaver raised his voice so everyone could hear him. “We will gather here tomorrow morning and you will know what happened then. Now go and rest. The danger has passed.”

With that, he raised his hand toward the intruder he killed, gathering his well-earned Amaranth before using his magic to make the ground literally swallow up the corpse.