Battleforged
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Chapter 435 - Freetown
🕑 Added 2024-07-01 04:00:06 +0000 UTCEric allowed himself to slip into a doze that was as much him feeling like he was one with the land as anything else as the miles flew by. He sensed so many wondrous stories unfolding. Tales of hope, redemption, and healing. Stories of excitement and adventure spawning from the mildest of White-tier rifts, where the fates themselves seemed determined to bring any noble hero safely home. He felt his eyes tear up with sunset’s blessing as they eventually approached the edge of New Arcadia, Eric bemused to find that yes, it had grown and expanded more than even he had realized, far beyond the ten thousand square mile Black-tier territory saturated with so many tormented souls that he had transformed into the happy ending so many millions had been desperate for.
A blessing he had been determined to deliver, no matter the personal cost.
A blessing his enemies had done all they could to destroy.
Eric immediately sensed the change in fate’s narrative flow as New Arcadia became Freetown, a territory filled with magitech marvels and awful tragedy. He jolted awake, swallowing the lump in his throat, forcing himself to gaze at the still smoking ruins of the Blue Palace. Over a hundred glorious stories had been reduced to a smoking heap that still towered over the block it had devastated. Yet if there was one tiny consolation as he gazed at the scene of devastation, it was knowing that hundreds of deaths would have been many thousands, if the Alutopaz alloy hadn’t truly been as strong as tungsten-reinforced steel. The devastated landmark had flowed like a tidal wave of destruction over multiple blocks, yet the other buildings had weathered the deadly pyrocastic-like flood without faltering or collapsing, save for the occasional shattered window, much as stalwart rocks standing sentinel against the crashing tide.
“Eric? Which way, man?”
Eric blinked free of his melancholic reverie, the air ringing with sounds of distress and rapid reconstruction, Eric both pleased and sad to see that his temporary crew looked just as effected as he felt… minus, of course, the horrific sense of responsibility.
“Left boulevard. We’ll skirt the destruction. Stop when you see what looks like an 18th century manor with a bit of a gothic feel.”
Yuki furrowed her brow at the description, then shrugged. “Sure, Eric. You’re call.”
Her concerned gaze turned to her companion. “You okay, Jack?”
Jack’s jaw was clenched. “Some fucking monster tried to blow up Freetown. If I knew who that fucker was… if I wasn’t back at fucking zero level…”
Eric couldn’t help it, he gently clapped Jack’s shoulder, earning a wince. “Thanks, Jack. I always thought you were good people. But you don’t have to worry about revenge.”
Jack winced. “Control your Strength, Roid Boy. Remember, your Finesse is now back to whatever it was pre-System. And what the hell do you mean, I don’t have to worry? What’s to keep those territorist fuckers from trying the same shit in Arcadia City?”
Eric flashed a bitter smile. “Because the assholes in question are very, very dead.”’
Jack scowled through his rearview. “And you know this for a fact?”
Eric dipped his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. Now stop before this gate… cool. We’re here.”
Before Jack could engage him any further, Eric had leaped free of the levi and was knocking on the wrought iron gate radiating a shockingly delicious degree of warding magics, his face lit with a bittersweet smile that thawed to warm happiness when he caught sight of an old friend.
“Eric, right? Hell yeah… I’d recognize that ugly mug anywhere! How ya feeling, Boyscout?”
Eric chuckled before Drake’s good-natured grin. The muscular man with the easy smile and the frat-boy charm was decked out in a proper charcoal-gray suit that he looked damn sharp in and was probably lined with some high-tech polymer armor or another, which made total sense, in this brave new world. He quickly opened the gate and wrapped a bemused Eric in a brotherly hug.
“Damn, kid. Sometimes I think you’re just a fucking figment of my imagination, then I remember that I owe you my freekin’ life! How’s that for a trick memory? I knew I should have put some points in that Scholarship stat.”
“Careful!” Yuki cried from the car. “He’s human now! Fragile! Please don’t crush him before his first day at school!”
Drake paused, slowly loosening his grip, a horrified look on his face. “Jeez, I didn’t squeeze you too hard, did I, Boyscout? You seem pretty solid to me.”
Eric laughed, waving off his friend’s concern. “Not at all, good buddy. Whatever your Scholarship might be, your Finesse is everything a Warrior could hope for.”
The big ex jock and professional burglar gave a relieved smile. “Glad to hear it. What’s this about being fragile?”
Eric rubbed the back of his neck through his robe. “Think of it as a class reset with some major fucking benefits, if we play our cards right.”
Drakes eyes widened. “No kidding,” He whistled. “I thought you liked your class? But I’ve never seen anyone shoot for the perfect build like you, so… yeah, I believe it.” He chuckled. “Sure as hell, I know Grim and the gang are going to want to hear about this class reset thing. Now come invite your friends inside! They can park in the grass just to the left of the gate.”
The powerfully built man gave an almost apologetic smile. “Not that we normally have to worry about theft in Freetown, but with all the panic after that terrorist shit and families desperate to leave despite Lord Caliban’s assurances…”
Eric nodded. “I get it.”
He turned Jack. “You can park it inside. Then we’ll get you all some refreshments.”
Yuki snorted. “Yeah, we’re not deaf, Eric. We heard him. Now move out the fucking way so we can actually get inside?”
Eric winced. Drake gave him a sympathetic look as they backed up. “Interesting crew.”
“Shared mission,” Eric said with a forced smile, conveying so much with those two words, before easing Drake’s scowl with a smirk. “It’s alright. Jack and Yuki were old adventuring companions for one serious delve and a hell of a lot of followup bullshit. Normally that creates tight bonds, but with all the high level reset shit going on… they just feel stressed as fuck whenever I bring it up.”
Drake solemnly nodded. “You don’t have to say another word. I get exactly what you mean, so let’s not get you in trouble,” he said with a knowing wink that made Eric snort. Because he wasn’t worried about trouble. Eric just thought it prudent not to mention the phrase ‘Silver Phoenix’ anywhere, because way too many black flags had already been put into play by what he feared was still a very much alive Malicent. But at least Drake and the rest of Morlekai’s crew understood that something truly funky had happened.
Eric was just grateful that, maybe because of the ties of gold and Blood Magic between them, or thanks to Grim’s aid, his old friends seemed far more in tune with their past timeline that they had shared with Eric compared to pretty much everyone else.
“Remembered social bonds for the win.”
Drake snorted. “Isn’t that the truth. And one thing I’ll never forget is the gold. Or how much we owe you,” he said with a gentle clap to Eric’s shoulder and a smile. “Come on. Let’s get that grub for you and your temporary crew.”
In short order, Eric had left his companions admiring the Baroque furnishings while enjoying a veritable feast of tasty looking grub to face a solemn-looking pair of powerhouses in the heart of Grim’s inner sanctum sanctorum, both Prince Caliban and their host, the Moorish gentleman (lich!) looking every inch that 18th century gentleman with his waistcoat, top hat, and silver cane. Even if hats weren’t normally worn inside, especially in that era, on Grim it just seemed right.
Eric bowed before his host. “An honor to see you once more, Grim.”
“And you as well, Eric,” Grim said with a fond smile. “I can’t tell you how profoundly moving it is to see your work. To raise an entire army of ancient Triassic guardians is one thing. But to ascend every practitioner’s wildest dreams and bring true life and wonder to that once thought eternally lost?” He doffed his hat and solemnly bowed in turn. “What you have accomplished his nothing short of legendary. You have transcended what it means to be a Necromancer and dare ascend steps normally embraced by higher-order beings. Or, perhaps, Contenders with a spark of divine blood flowing through their veins.”
Eric felt his cheeks flush at those unexpected words.
Caliban gave their host a concerned look. “Lord Grim, many Contenders are capable of what some might consider miraculous feats, creating fertile fields or inspirational vistas where nothing but lifeless rubble and ruin could be find before…”
Grim raised his brow in a very Spock-like move, to Eric’s thinking. “That may well be true, Your Grace. But to pluck free an entire faerie realm from the quantum flux of endless possibility?”
For some reason, Caliban blanched before those words, eyes growing haunted as he slowly shook his head. “No, Lord Grim. And best we not say another word aloud, for such feats might draw even the Emperor’s gaze.”
“I was at the right place and time,” Eric said, voice little more than a rough whisper. “Like finding myself at a switch station right before fate’s train comes barreling through. Normally, the tracks are empty of any possibility so… significant. I just make the grass a bit greener, the forests and fields a bit more… well, magical, maybe. The warm sunlight friendly to meditation or cultivation sessions, sure. But then I’m on my merry way. I don’t normally do… that.”
Caliban turned once more, piercing blue eyes all but burning into his own. “The right place indeed, Eric Silver. You were exactly where you needed to be and you did exactly what you needed to do and the debt Freetown owes you is one we can never, ever repay.”
Eric blanched at those words, heart racing when it was clear that Caliban understood absolutely everything that had happened. That Eric was ultimately the one responsible for the Blue Palace’s destruction. Yet the look in his eyes, fierce with what Eric dared to hope was gratitude, was that of a man clasping hands with his brother.
Eric swallowed, throat suddenly tight as he lowered his gaze. “I’m just... If there had been anything I could have—” His words were cut off by a squeeze of his arm and a cool headshake from Caliban, only then noting the folded letter that had been placed in his hand.
“I believe it best we put our pasts behind us, fully and completely, as we seek to embrace a fresh new start for Freetown.”
“I agree,” Eric said softly. “And I can only hope that you’ll forgive what I’m about to ask.”
Caliban raised his eyebrow. “Such as…”
Eric sighed. “Such as a fair amount of the gold and credits I’ve placed into our joint chartered bank for… let’s call it safe keeping.”
Caliban’s gentle gaze tightened. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that we need that coin and credits more than ever.”
Eric nodded. “I know. Believe me, I know. But right now we have a literal once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to boost a freekin’ legendary-tier arcane academy that I’ll actually be allowed to attend, if we can lock in a certain handful of territories. Headmaster Wyrmwood is all about the diplomatic path, and my sister’s written a handful of offers that me and my level zero peeps are basically playing diplomatic courier to. But considering that a three-day-old country does not exactly have much in the way of cash reserves... it can’t hurt to sweeten the pot with whatever I can bring to the table.”
Caliban’s expression tightened, yet the aura Grim radiated instantly caught Eric’s attention.
“My dear Eric Silver, did you say Legendary-tier Arcane Academy?”
Eric smiled at that, feeling giddy with the possibilities that were right in front of him. “Darn right, and I’ll tell you a secret for free. All new students get a fresh backup body set at level zero that they can then level as a Mistridged approved class that might open all sorts of incredible opportunities. And the best news is, we’re not giving up anything! When we eventually return to our original bodies, guess who gets to keep all the attributes and abilities earned with both incarnations?”
The room grew deathly still, Caliban exchanging a pointed glance with Grim before taking a sip of his coffee and looking Eric’s way.
“Eric, do you have any idea of how profound a boon this is?”
Eric nodded. “Actually, I do. And half the country’s over-leveled elite got the memo and will be joining us. The fact that you haven’t, Caliban, just underscores the importance of our mission. We’re handing the invites to a handful of territories that, maybe because they’re too close to the eye of the storm, so to speak, were left out. But definitely not forgotten.”
Eric’s heart pounded in his chest as he dared to make an offer he was absolutely sure his Sister would expect.
“And I think that invite should include you both.”
Cheeks flushing, he dared to meet Grim’s gaze. “What do you think, Lord Grim? Can a Legendary-tier Academy give a fresh perspective to someone with your erudite background?”
For the first time in forever, Grim actually looked at a loss for words. That, of course, was the moment that the door knocked, a servitor bringing fresh coffee, cinnamon roles, and hot chocolate clearly intended for Eric. The discrete man then vanished with a bow.
Eric smiled at his gobsmacked companions. “So please consider yourselves invited. And if you think it’s a good fit, Grim… we can see about having your best students join our college in the future.”
“You have given me much to think about,” Grim conceded.
Caliban sighed. “If only it were that simple, Eric. Unfortunately, my position makes extracurricular studies extremely difficult, especially in a neighboring territory.”
Eric shrugged. “Sure, I get that. You are looking after an entire high-tech wonder of a city. But at the same time… dozens of high-powered Contenders are calling at least a temporary truce, everyone agreeing to ease off the throttles of expansion and conquest. So if there was ever a moment of calm before a future decades-long storm…” Eric sighed. “But I know that after what happened to Blue Palace…”
Caliban dipped his head. “Thank you for the offer, Eric. We’ll have to see what the future holds. But for now, at least, this might be one opportunity I’m forced to pass up on. Now, with Lord Grim’s permission…”
Their looming host bowed his head. “Of course. I shall leave you gentlemen to conduct your affairs. Please don’t hesitate to ring the bell if you have any need of my assistance. And Eric?”
He caught Eric’s eyes with a solemn bow. “You have my House’s sincerest gratitude.”
Eric swallowed, dipping his head. “Thank you for allowing us the use of your quarters, Lord Grim.”
The man waved his gloved hand. “Think nothing of it. I assume your offer also includes your former companions?”
Eric grinned. “Absolutely! I was going to make the offer to them personally.”
“Then by all means, do so. I’m sure they will be eager to see you, once your present affairs are in order.” He then dipped his head. “Your Graces.”
Eric flushed, no matter how appropriate that title might be.
“Lord Grim,” Caliban answered for them both as the tall lich saw himself out.
Caliban turned to Eric, intent expression once more in place. “Our host assures us that few arts indeed can pierce crimson wards infused with the potency and power of Terra’s ascension. Nonetheless, Eric…”
Eric winced, bowing his head. “I understand. And again… I’m sorry.”
The man firmly clapped his shoulder, shaking his head. “Not for one moment, should you be.”
Eric swallowed. “I did everything I could.”
“I know. We wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise. Because we would all be dead.”
Eric lowered his gaze, taking a sip of cacao with hands that didn’t tremble a bit.
“Now, let’s work with eyes toward the future, shall we, my young friend? What exactly do you need to secure Mistridge, and by extension, your Sister’s dominance of this region?”
Eric forced a smile. “Have you had a chance to speak to Elonia? I know food was a concern, and…”
Here, at least, Caliban’s brooingn features softened into a relieved smile. “And somehow a territory that had nearly overwhelmed us with ancient abominations has transformed itself into what could well be the agricultural capital of the continent, if not the world.” He gave a rueful chuckle. “And what a tragic wonder it was to find myself both tending a city that had come so close to absolute disaster, with hundreds of lives lost and our landmark wonder destroyed… yet is now enjoying a steady influx of produce wagons filled with bushels of corn, wheat, and the freshest produce I’ve ever seen. Produce that brought tears to the eyes of multiple professional chefs and all but assuring that our fears of starvation will hopefully be a thing of the past. Best of all, our newest guests seem more than a bit awed by all the accessories and items we have for sale, and we were happy to immediately establish lines of credit.”
He flashed a tired smile. “As you can no doubt imagine, rest simply hasn’t been part of the equation.”
“And Elonia?”
“Your sister, with the help of her advisors, sent a number of proposals that I’ve found to be more than fair. Quite generous, in fact.” He chuckled softly. “She worried that perhaps her farmers might be restricted in their movements and that we’d have to form a trade station or such at the border of our territories, but remarkably, her citizenry have absolutely no problem crossing the border into Freetown territory.”
Intent eyes locked with Eric’s own. “And they will travel no further.”
Eric nodded. “I’m not surprised.”
“Because you’re responsible for the...blessings that both our territories enjoy.”
Eric let the unexpected tension build before nodding. “Correct.”
Caliban sighed. “You have to be careful, Eric. As grateful as I am for all you’ve done… if the wrong individuals realized just how profound an influence you have upon Terra…”
“I know. And if you think for one moment I’m going to let predatory manipulative fucks sniffing around our world like jackals stop me from doing what needs to be done...” Eric said, his words harsher than he intended.
“All I’m saying is that you need to be careful.” Caliban gazed pointedly at the note Eric still had clenched in his fist before finally slipping it into his ES Space, giving his companion a nod.
“I know.”
“Good. So tell me, Eric, how much capital do you need?”
Eric flashed a mirthless smile. “Enough gold, credits, and promises to entice a shitload of Bronze-tier mecha-suited mercs to get their assess off Ashland province and move somewhere else. Or attend Mistridge classes for all I care.”
“And what’s so significant about… wait…” Caliban’s eyes widened. “I remember! Eric, we were going to…”
He frowned, shaking his head.
“Yes, we were,” Eric said somewhat sadly. “It would have been an incredible sight. A dozen wealthy towns catering to the high level delvers having the time of their lives as they soared to incredible heights, clearing multiple levels of delves absolutely filled with high quality resources and opportunities to better themselves. Delving levels that could be mapped and fully understood with guides and trainers assuring that countless thousands of adventurers could almost safely follow in the footsteps of daring trailblazers and not just make a decent living but make an absolute killing with all the wealth they could pull free.”
Caliban tensed up, eyes fierce with a hungry fire, looking for all the world as if he would compel Eric to embrace that very vision once more, before letting loose a tired sigh. “If those mercenaries have any idea of the true potential of the territory they now inhabit… there’s no way they’re leaving. And very few natives have any hope of forcing Bronze-tier classers like those anywhere they don’t want to be.”
Eric flashed a tight smile. “Then we’ll have to do things the hard way. Which will be a shame, since the boon we were promised will be all the greater if we can resolve things peacefully.”
Caliban chuckled, going over Elonia’s proposals that Yuki had put into Eric’s care, at least for the duration of their stay here. “Still, if they don’t know the value of the territory they now find themselves in ownership of, they just might be enticed by the promise of this academy.”
“That’s my hope,” Eric said.
Caliban flashed a tight smile. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance that you could toss this Blue’s way?”
Eric sighed. “Were it not for the mystical boons that Mistridge would receive…”
“I understand,” Caliban said, regret plain in his voice as he took a sip of his coffee.
Eric’s eyes widened. He gave a soft chuckle. “Who the hell says we can’t have our cake and eat it to?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Our bank charter!”
“Yes?”
Eric gave his friend an intent look. “Think of it! Countless delving levels filled with Wealthy-tier resources, and incredible fortune in resources, each level of those twelve dungeons twice as large as Ashland itself! Eight hundred square miles of delves per level! Adventurer’s Paradise and Promise assuring an incredible glut of resources that will quickly flood Earth’s markets... Unless!”
His friend raised a thoughtful brow, though the corner of his lip had already curved in a smile. “Unless?”
“Unless Elonia were to work out a deal with Blue Corp’s bank… by which I mean OUR chartered bank, to handle the sale of all the natural resources found in those delves! And maybe to build up the towns and cities that will spring up around each and every one of those delves that will one day host massive populations of happy, energetic adventurers flush with millions… no, billions of credits that they will be happy to spend on all the exotic high tech goods and services that Blue Corp affiliated towns will be able to provide for their shopping enjoyment!”
Eric’s eyes lit with excitement. “If my sister were to make a deal with our bank to fund the creation of those cities, to stock those cities full of high-end shops and tree-lined boulevards sheltering beautiful gardens and massive beautiful topaz alloy buildings that we now know can withstand all but the most devastating of explosions… just how wealthy could Ashland become? If things work out, how much gold would the Sylvan Alliance have at their disposal?”
Eric was positively beaming. “Even if Elonia can’t surrender the territory to you… I mean, remand it to Blue Corp administrative care… who says you can’t enter into an agreement whereby our joint bank can fund Ashland’s future cities and towns entirely? As our economic investment! And we’ll slide the Sylvan Alliance taxes on the profits of all condos and houses we rent out and businesses we’ll own.”
Eric took a satisfied sip of his cacao. “Of course, adventurers will sell to us because they want to, not because they have to. And we’ll buy the raw goods from adventurers and the finished products of professional crafters as super fair prices because we’re Blue Corp, we’re stand-up, and we’re going to make an absolute fucking killing as the galactic middlemen for a full dozen endlessly leveled Wealthy-tier delves! In fact, I’m betting that if Elonia lets our Bank handle the development of Ashland, even after our cut of the pie, she’ll be making five or ten-fold in taxes and profits above and beyond what she otherwise would, going it all herself!”
Caliban gazed silently at Eric for long moments.
Long enough for Eric’s cheeks to flush, wondering how many kinds of fool he was coming across as… when he felt Caliban’s hand squeeze his shoulder.
“Well played, Eric. And it would be more like a hundredfold.”
Eric blinked. “Excuse me?”
Caliban grinned. “She would enjoy a hundredfold the tax revenue that she otherwise would, for all the reasons you just mentioned, if she allowed our chartered bank to develop Ashland, thanks in large part to our access to the galactic markets at large… assuming these delves turn out to be all that you hope they’ll be. And I, for one, am willing to gamble that they will.”
Eric whistled at that.
“And we would additionally be providing stable work to hundreds of thousands, if not millions of mortals that will be needed for numerous support roles, no matter that they lack any class or profession at all. This too would make Ashland territory a sanctuary to countless desperate souls and elevate your sister’s glory and political prestige all the more. However, you’d establish a precedent here on Earth whereby we’d be channeling all of Blue Corp’s operations through our Bank Charter.”
Eric’s features tightened with concern. “You’re not going to tell me that that’s…”
“Which is of course perfectly legal, and not only has multi-world precedent, but by our own Bank Charter and concessions you successfully secured, is all but necessitated. Yet only now are we in a position to bring it all to fruition.”
Eric sighed. “Too bad I can’t claim an additional 20% stake of all the goodies pulled free of Ashland’s delves directly.”
Caliban chuckled. “No, you can’t. Not if this territory is truly a property of your sister, as opposed to being Blue Corp’s personal holdings. Not unless you’d surrender any pretext of being a Free Agent.”
His friend smirked at Eric’s crestfallen expression. “And you’re entitled to a fifty percent share of all our bank’s profits, thanks to our agreement and the charter and city you rescued.” His gaze grew intent. “Twice over.”
Eric smirked. “Like I said, right place, right time. And now you see why I need that capital. As much as you can spare.”
“Indeed. I’ll make the arrangements.” His friend’s expression grew intent. “The possibilities are beyond profound, Eric. But with all the other projects we’re presently embracing, most especially repairing our capital and assuring our financial liquidity, in case other financial predators or masters of lawfare might otherwise see us as easy targets… I recommend we don’t go over two hundred million.”
“Agreed,” Eric said, before chuckling softly. “And we say so casually amounts that are absolutely absurd.”
Caliban nodded. “I’ll make the arrangements immediately. Is there anything else you need?”
Eric nodded, mind racing with both the needs of the present and contingencies for the future. “Actually, yes. I don’t suppose that Nikita successfully sold any of my overpriced—”
Caliban smiled. “She did. Every last one.”
Eric blinked in surprise. “Wait, really?”
“Check your balance, Eric.”
Eric’s eyes bulged. “I’m up another billion? A cool complete… wait! Those fuckers even brought up all my miscellaneous crap? That was just a place-holder! I was using it for free storage. Fuck!”
Caliban chuckled. “I took the liberty of separating your soul-bound toys and discounted that lot accordingly. I assume you wouldn’t mind. Otherwise… yes. For better or worse, your and Nikita’s ruthless attempts to goad the mercenary community into a sense of urgency worked brilliantly. All the more so, after the terrorist attacks. As a result, we’re completely out of all Tier-2 and Tier-3 weaponry and power armor as well.”
The older elf smirked. “Needless to say, if you have any more high-end armaments you wish to sell at an absolute premium…”
“Actually… I wanted to talk to you about securing whatever blasters were available… even Tier-1 blasters.
Caliban frowned, eyes rapidly flickering across an invisible page.
“No more than ten, I’m afraid. And the price has gone up considerably.”
“No longer a million?”
“Closer to two.”
“That’s fine. If we could grab all ten?”
Caliban smiled. “Done.”
“How about crossbows? Do we have any of them in stock in any of our stores? Dwarven artistry or high tech polymer construction, I’ll take them all, and all the bolts that go with them two.”
Caliban smiled. “That would be in excess of two hundred crossbows, Eric. And those we enjoy ready access to and can restock as needed.”
Eric blinked. “Really? Sweet. How about double or triple-shot variants?”
“Thirty seven doubleshots, only seven triple-shots, yet they are at considerable discount.
“Really.”
Caliban nodded. “These were custom made by Adept-tier craftsmen for a customer that never completed their order. The craftsman has vanished, his client list disappeared, and its a mystery as to why these exotic weapons were left at all.”
Eric frowned, more than impressed by Caliban’s professional skills, to service Eric’s needs so well, as if all the data of a city was at his fingertips… and perhaps it was. Yet he could well imagine why Caliban was so aware of the particulars of these killing tools.
Tools intended for goblin hands.
Tools which, Eric knew from experience, handled quite well in his own as well.
“Alright, we’ll snatch up all the double and triple shots available. Think it will take a million credits?”
Caliban smiled. “three and a half million for the seven specialized triple-shot sniping tools, and less than a four hundred thousand for every other crossbow presently in stock in Freetown, many made by master craftsmen.”
“Eric nodded. “Alright. Call it four million for all of them. A steal. Now besides the quarrels, let’s grab all the T-1 and T-2 blaster ammo available. Hell, T-III if you got that as well.”
Caliban furrowed his brow. “That would be another ten million credits, Eric, and will leave a number of people less than pleased.”
Eric’s features hardened. “Good. We’re soon going to have an entire school full of level zero fresh-start elites. Easy targets for the wrong sorts of people thinking they’re easy meat. I can’t do anything about the guns already on the market… but I can make it just a bit harder for punks without specialized classes to take pot shots on my fellow classmates.”
Caliban gazed at Eric for long moments. “That’s not the only reason, is it?”
Eric chuckled. “Let’s just say I’m securing a backup plan of my own. Just in case it’s needed.”
His friend nodded. “Fair enough.” A second later, he gave a smile of satisfaction. “Ammo, blasters, and crossbows are secured. Your count has been debited 34 million credits. Anything else?”
“Sure. Let’s leave a standing buy order for blasters, and hell, we’ll make it generous. Three million per T-I Blaster. I doubt the elite mercs who can bind and repair their own elite toys or make their own ammo or have access to corp tinkerers that can do the equivalent will ever sell their T-II and T-III toys, nor can I afford to buy them. I’m happy with the billion I earned by selling my own shit. But the countless generalists and Warriors or Conscripts who put together just enough credits just to buy an elite toy will no doubt realize just how limited their weapon now is with no loose ammo sitting around and I’m guessing very, very few with the class perks needed to recharge their own blasters. So I’m betting they’ll be more than happy to sell for triple what most probably paid for the things. That will see them in a better place to buy standard weapons and armaments of excellent quality, or just save a nest egg.”
“While securing ever more of that market for yourself.”
“Of course.” Eric smirked. “It’s not like they can use them in delves anyway, and the experience points you get using them are absolute shit for standard classers, so don’t look at me like I’m some mastermind. With the way they were doled out by a certain faction of manipulative shits, at least some of them were being used as tools to cause maximum trouble and grief with bitter low-level losers spite-shooting people actually making it in life. I should have brought up all the T-1s when they were even more plentiful, or at least the ones not being honorably used by the militia trying to beat back a monster surge a couple days back. But this is what I can do now.”
Caliban took a fresh sip of his coffee and grabbed one of the pastries. “Are you going to want to store away your present gear to make room for the gold?”
Eric gave a hard smile, shaking his head. “Nope. We’ll use a handful of military-grade rucksacks to carry the gold in. Just like old times. I’m quite happy having full access to the contents of my ES Space without limits. Especially with what’s coming next.”
Caliban nodded.
“But I will want some very, very secure storage rooms that only you and me will have access to, in order to store away a great deal of extremely valuable shit. Storage I can access whenever I need, without anyone giving me a hard time. Just in case things go sideways really hard in the very near future.”
“Done,” Caliban said, passing Eric a pair of keys, and a fresh slip of paper. “The address should pop up right on your Dominion Interface Map.”
Eric blinked. “Do I even wanna know how you did that?”
Caliban chuckled. “A good partner anticipates the needs of his associates… and their clients.”
“Sure, we’ll go with that.”
His friend’s amused expression faded to a look of concern. “Eric, what happens if our Bronze-tier associates refuse to play ball… even with a rather significant enticement?”
Eric chuckled coldly. “Then we do things the other way.”
Caliban’s features hardened. “Not if you’re all freshly minted Arcane Conscripts, Eric. No matter how fancy your toys. You know better.”
Eric nodded. “You’re right. I do.”
“Are you using your Rising Sun associates?”
Eric chuckled. “Let’s hope my Negotiation perks render that unnecessary.”
Caliban dipped his head. “I look forward to seeing just how far we can push our bank charter, Eric. If all goes well, the entire Northeast will be better off within a years time, thanks to what will soon be three territories to have known your grace.”
“More like half a dozen or more, if these negotiations work out.”
He solemnly shook his friend’s hand. “I’ll be back to pick up the goodies later.”
Eric slipped out of Grim’s office and began making his way back upstairs to the dining area, before being immediately ambushed by some of his first friends since waking up in this brave new world. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face when he spotted Morlekai, looking sleek and deadly as always with his carmine dress shirt and charcoal grey slacks over alligator boots with a 1796 cavalry saber at his hip, now looking a bit less like a mafia don and a bit more like a young vampire lord in his home.
“Is it true?” Asked a sleek-looking Alice wearing a formfitting black dress, biting her carmine lip as lacquered nails gently stroked Eric’s cheek. “We just spoke with your associates eating their fill in the dining hall, enticing so many of our master’s students! Is there really a magical academy that could help me blossom into a true sorceress?”
Eric flashed a sad smile, on some level mourning Alice’s loss. A loss that, for all he knew, still haunted her… or that she had forgotten entirely. “Chatting up my quest companions, were we? Well good. I was going to talk about it with you and your brother anyway. If all goes as I hope it will, Mistridge will give any student with even the slightest inclination for the arcane arts a chance to grow and ascend beyond their wildest dreams. Because what could be better for a girl able to channel the awesomeness that is lightning than scholarship at a school that specializes in the elements? If you ever wanted to ascend from Conscript with a wand to bonafide Storm Mage or the like, this could well be your best chance”
Alice and Morlekai were gazing at Eric with the looks of children finding their parents had gifted them all their favorite toys for Christmas. Toys, warm cookies, and parents gazing at them with all the love and affection every child deserves, no matter how tumultuous life’s tribulations have been for so many, these last couple of years.
Eric was surprised by the lump in his throat as he gently spoke on.
“We’ve all missed out on so many opportunities, whether from our own mistakes or just the world crumbling around us. But we’ve had some pretty big wins come our way as well. Fortuitous encounters that changed our fortunes like few things ever could. You guys were nice enough to let me in on a wonderful heist that opened the door to a fortune like no other. The least I can do is share the greatest opportunity to come my way with some of my closest friends that I think could make just as good use of it as me.”
The siblings exchanged solemn glances before bowing their heads as one.
“Eric, if you could make this happen for us… if we could really be a part of this school…”
“We could never say thank you enough, Boyscout,” Alice said, her voice husky with gratitude.
Eric chuckled at that, before stepping close, whispering in a suddenly shivering Alice’s ear. “There is a catch. You have to behave! If you conceive while you attend, you risk losing everything.”
Alice’s eyes widened. A slow flush crept up her cheeks before she gave a soft, husky laugh. “It’s a good thing I know what I’m doing then, isn’t it?” She said with a teasing smile revealing a dainty pair of pearl-white fangs.
Eric’s cheeks flushed with heat at the sultry look she gave him.
“You know what I am, Eric. What I need. Are you saying we have to be chaste to even enter the college?”
Eric blinked, remembering his sister’s words. “It’s more like… if you conceive a child, that pulls your incarnation from the mystical realm that Mistridge strides, realms that allow you to gain unique magical affinities, I’m guessing, and your shell becomes you in full, so you can safely carry your very human baby in a very human shell and bring it to term, since biology trumps arcanistry, at least for humans here on Earth.”
For a heartbeat a look of profound regret crossed Alice’s features, before husky laughter filled the air once more. “Don’t worry, Eric. girls like me are very good at avoiding unexpected complications, as long as we’re not stupid enough to actually fall in love with our consorts. Just tell me there won’t be hallway monitors or absurd curfews or the like, and all my future partners will have to worry about is a very good time.”
Eric smiled and shrugged. “Honestly, I have no idea. But if things evolve as I think they will… you might find that you don’t have to worry about, well, any of that. Alice.”
Alice furrowed her brow. “What do you mean, boyscout?”
“Just that, from what the Headmaster implied, our shells will be baseline for our ideal selves. So any unexpected hangups or needs… we’re free of.”
Alice’s eyes widened. A gentle flush creeping up her cheeks. “Wait, Eric, are you saying what I think you’re saying? That I could actually attend school as a normal girl without any unwanted… hangups?”
Eric shrugged. “Maybe? Hopefully? I think?”
He was momentarily thrown off by the happy hug she gave him, not expecting to see anything like tears in her eyes as she gave a rueful chuckle. “What I’d give to be able to attend college free of any distractions… any unwanted needs. To feel like every other girl. That I was no different, no worse, than anyone else.”
“There was never anything wrong with who you were,” Morlekai reminded her with a brother’s protective glare.
“Thank you, brother. The same goes for you, you know.”
Eric smiled at them both. “Then consider yourselves invited. I’ll give my sister a head’s up and I’d be very surprised if you didn’t get formal invites, or a simple message to come up whenever your ready. But, um… the first semester starts in less than two weeks.”
Eric caught Morlekai’s brooding gaze. “It promises to be an incredible opportunity for all of us. A chance to tap into actual primal planes of magic. I’m not sure to what extent it delves into the crimson arts we all specialize in. It’s a Sylvan academy, after all. Regardless, It’s an incredible opportunity that will unlock numerous Elite-tier classes, even if tapping into those Primal Arts turns out be something that only the most gifted can do.”
Morlekai flashed a grim smile. “No matter what arts it explores, if it helps us move forward, its worth learning from.” He then paused to gaze at Eric before grinning wide. “The adventuring life agrees with you, my friend. Clearly. You look nothing like you did when we first met.”
Eric smirked. “And I can’t tell you how happy I am that you haven’t forgotten that.”
“As am I.” Morlekai chuckled. “Come, let’s head back to the dining room. Before you and your associates leave… my sister and I have a proposal for you.”
Chapter 436 - Blood Ravens I
Comments
Jamie
I think that was the 3rd book. 4th one is already published now too.
Senoj Ttehr
Not sure if this is the place to ask..but I last had a membership during the time Eric was thrown into a rift and met a group with a starship that he helped but couldn't come through the rift? Around what chapter was that?
KatC
Looks like a potential team building for saving earth❤️
Chad Rapoza
I got a little ptsd with that freetown chapter title...lol
Trevayne
Good update, although I still wonder about this part. Caliban sighed. “You have to be careful, Eric. As grateful as I am for all you’ve done… if the wrong individuals realized just how profound an influence you have upon Terra…” IIRC he has travelled from the north East to the Midwest and parts of the south. That is about a third of the US. What about the rest of the planet?
Grant lee merrifield
Woot
