"Where is he?" she drawled, her head languidly resting on the palm of her hand.
A red-robed figure lifted her head.
"My lady. We scoured the entire province of Yilim, as you commanded, and found no signs of the thief. Our disciples have monitored every fresh corpse in every city and town we have a presence in, and none resurrected. Every warrior in the society flew to even the smallest towns and villages, and there weren't any rumors of the dead rising."
"Humph. As expected of you useless weaklings." The throne evaporated as her wings stretched out behind her. "The thief is on one of these islands, and until he is caught no one will leave or travel between them."
"My lady, that's …" The red-robed woman trailed off as Arke suddenly appeared in front of her.
"That's. What?" She cocked her head.
"This lowly warrior seeks only to serve and aid you in finding this terrible thief, and none of us dare defy your will, or that of Olympus … but Atlantis claims dominion over the seas, and this island."
Arke blinked, and then blinked again. "Do you think I'm unaware of Atlantis?"
"Of course not. This one will never presume to fathom the extent of your wisdom and knowledge. It is only that if Carim were to suddenly cease all exports, the Atlantians would seek to punish us. Many of us still remember her fury. Even centuries later, we mourn the loss of our hero and pay the price of our arrogance. If Atlantis does not get her tithe, they will call us traitors. Her armies will destroy us."
"If the thief is not found—" Arke loomed over her. "Then it will not be Atlantis you need to worry about."
"My lady … I'm afraid finding this thief will be impossible. What if his soul already dissipated, or he allowed himself to be pulled into the Aether? Or if …"
"Enough!" she shrieked, rattling the world with her voice alone. "I will not abide by your excuses. See that my will be done. As for the Atlantians, do not concern yourself with them."
"How do we find this thief, my lady? If he has already possessed a body, then how do we know who he is?"
She didn't answer and disappeared with a single beat of her wings. The nine warriors shared nervous glances before flying back to their respective mountains, leaving only Nefkha and Irila, the woman who had spoken to her, floating in the air.
"What a bitch," said Nefkha, stroking his beard.
"Indeed. She should know that no one's going to find this thief of hers. He's probably dead, and even if he isn't, how are we meant to find him among billions of people? If he isn't dead already, he could be anyone, anywhere."
"Ha. We don't, that's how," Nefkha lied effortlessly. "She's strong-arming us right now, but the archipelago is too useful for trade, and not just to the Atlantians. Maybe if she knew what island the thief was on, things would be different, but as it is, there's no chance. Besides, Carim is weak, and we're weak. We have no choice but to obey whatever law she lays down. The other islands don't necessarily have the same restriction."
"You mean Sylcra?"
"Mmm-hmm. There's rumors that the hero ascended to the next tier."
Irila's eyes widened before she shook her head lightly. "Even then, angering Olympus isn't worth it."
"Maybe so … but Olympus isn't the only faction helmed by gods, and if the rumor is true, the damage that someone at that tier could do …"
"He'll be slaughtered. The gods don't look favorably on those who threaten them."
"You're right." Nefkha turned to the direction where Arke had flown off to. His eyes hardened in hate. "But their cruelty breeds enmity, and there are many who would seek to destroy them, regardless of the cost. To themselves or to the world."
"Is this about …"
He put a fake smile on his face. "That's enough of that. Dealing with her stressed me out. I have some bottles of Nepthian beer if you would care to join me?"
She raised her eyebrows. "I didn't know you had such expensive tastes."
On the ground outside the forest, Luke and his companions knelt on the ground.
"I think she's gone," said Spiros a minute or two after she had left.
The Seed sent Luke a message.
Threat averted.
He sighed in relief as he stood up. "Does she come here often?"
"Second time, actually. She came here a week ago, and the society was in shambles. Apparently some thief got away from her, and she's searching for him," said June.
"That's crazy. She seemed so strong." Luke did his best not to give anything away.
"Yeah, the society went crazy, and all the Elders even went searching for him … Is that when Elder Nefkha found you?" asked Mykonos, squatting down and gripping the snake's tail.
My timing really is suspicious.
"Yeah. I was lost in a forest outside my town, and he must have felt bad for me or something, because he offered to let me join the society." Luke also gripped the snake.
"That was nice of him. Isn't your family worried about you, though?" June frowned.
"No … they, uh—" Luke recounted Max's sad tale as they dragged the carcass back to the city, omitting anything to do with the Seed and how he wasn't actually Max.
Thankfully, Nefkha didn't turn me in. Arke seemed to have healed from whatever damage Aeolus did to her, and as fast as she moves, I don't even know if I could have used a charge fast enough to get away. At least I know she can't sense the Seed inside me now, though. She really has no idea who I am. It's surprising that she's still lurking around, though. What's her plan?
Luke shook the thoughts out of his head. It didn't matter why she was around. Nefkha hadn't turned him in, and Arke couldn't recognize him even when he was standing right under her nose. He was safe for the time being.
"Hmm." An Inner Disciple inspected their snake, walking around it with his arms crossed, poking and prodding it as he went. Prying its mouth open, he peeked inside, unbothered by the blood dripping onto his robes. "Thirteen hundred merits."
"What! Come on," Mykonos protested. "You might as well rob us for that price. Look at this." He reached into his robe and pulled out a handbook. "It says right here, one-fifty for each vial of the venom. In a snake this big, there's at least ten vials of it!"
The Inner Disciple started at Mykonos. "It seems you know your stuff, kid."
"How about you give us a fair price?" Mykonos crossed his arms. The Inner Disciple grinned at him.
"I like you. Let me see. You have both fangs, so that's two hundred. It's thirty feet long, and let's say three feet thick"—he cupped his chin thoughtfully—"that's basically three hundred square feet of skin, which amounts to another six hundred merits. Two hundred for the heart, fifty for each kidney, and two hundred for everything else. Altogether, that's two thousand, eight hundred."
"That's bet—"
"Minus two hundred for the butchering fee, minus another one-fifty for the poor shape of its skin, and another four-fifty for the lack of freshness, altogether that'll be two thousand merits. Better?"
"Deal!" Mykonos shook his hand. Beside him, both June and Spiros cheered.
"We're rich! We're rich, Luke!" Spiros slung his arm around Luke's shoulder.
"Tsk. Don't get too excited, you little brats. Lucky breaks like this don't come too often. If I were you, I'd use the merits to buy lessons. Exploding talismans worked on the snake, but to most monsters, those papers might as well be pebbles. Same with anyone beyond the midstage of the Mortal tier. I could have one of those tiny papers burst off in my mouth and I'd still be fine," the Inner Disciple boasted, puffing out his chest. "Now, let me see your wristbands. We're doing an even spread, right?" he asked.
"Yup!" Spiros nodded.
Later, after submitting his portion of the blue wildflowers, and with an excess of merits, Luke walked into the armory.
He had been looking forward to doing so since he'd realized it existed. Entering the building, he was amazed to see it littered with an assortment of swords, shields, spears, halberds, knives, and even knuckle-dusters. Each and every one of them was polished to a shine and gleaming in the light of the gas lamps that were common to Carim.
His eyes raked over the walls, and to his surprise a sword lit up in his vision.
Bellerophon's Blade
The words appeared in front of it.
Is it that easy? he asked himself, staring dumbly at the sword. It was a beautiful thing. A three-foot-long blade, lacking a cross guard unlike most of the other swords in the room. It was forged from pure gold and lacked any seams, as if it had been created from a single bar of the metal. A pommel, encrusted with a large blue gem and a tassel, narrowed into a leather-wrapped grip, which flattened into a wicked double-edged blade, forming a lethal point.
"An eye for the fancy!" a voice echoed through the room. "Can't say I blame ya. Who wouldn't want a golden sword, and a xiphos at that. If nothing else, the Olympians make some fine-looking weapons. What can I get for ya, lad?"
"How much for that one?" Luke asked the shopkeeper, slightly surprised by his massive frame and bulging muscles, barely hidden beneath his blue robes.
"Hmm. That one is three hundred merits." He looked at Luke, a wry smile on his face that just screamed his doubt at Luke being able to afford it.
"I'll take it!" Luke answered as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Sliding his bracelet off his wrist, he held it out to him.
"You're quite decisive." He looked surprised but pulled the sword free of its mount nonetheless. "Are you sure you want this one, though? Don't let the gold fool you—it's not the best sword we have here. Actually, the price is so high precisely because it's gold. Whoever made it possessed more vanity than sense, in my opinion."
"I'm sure. I, uh, I always wanted a gold sword," Luke answered weakly. He remembered that the society didn't know its history, and he didn't want to clue them into its true value, either. Whatever that was.
"Are you sure I can't convince you otherwise? The artificer who made it enchanted it with increased durability just to make use of the gold. Most of the other swords I have in that price range are made from sturdier stuff and have better enchantments. I got swords that shock people, swords that are sharper than they should be, swords that vibrate … all for a similar price."
"Thank you, but I'm sure."
"All right. They're your merits." He shrugged and took the wristband. Dropping it on a paper, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "No wonder you're so eager to waste your money. I thought those vipers went extinct," he muttered as his eyes raked over the paper. After deducting the merits, he slid the sword over to Luke. "You'll want a sheath with that, too. Three merits."
"I'll take one," said Luke, gingerly placing his hand on the hilt. He felt the Seed stir in the recesses of his soul. A tendril of energy traveled from it, down to his arm, and into the blade.
Quest complete.
Bonding.
Connection formed with item: Xiphos
That was way easier than I thought it would be.
Sitting on the mat in his meditation room, Luke withdrew the sword from its sheath. Then, with a mental command, added it to his inventory.
Status | Quests | Inventory
Capacity: 4.5 kg of 140 kg
Items:
Xiphos (Bound)
Tier—Mortal (Upgradable)
A xiphos gifted to Bellerophon. Although not his primary weapon, after centuries of exposure to mana of a higher tier, it has gained abilities atypical of a mortal artifact. The blade will repair any damage when provided with sufficient mana. The blade will siphon mana from those it cuts, strengthening its wielder every time a foe is slain.
Upgrade—Weakened by its wielder's battle against Zeus and from the centuries of disuse that followed, the mana in the sword has dwindled away, resulting in its decline to the Mortal tier. It can be returned to its previous glory, and perhaps even beyond.
To advance the sword to the next tier, it must feast on the blood of a hundred Warrior-tier entities. (0/100)
Hmm. Not bad, although I'm a long ways from killing a hundred warriors. Hell, I only know nine that exist. If I'm reading it right, though, the sword will take mana from those I cut with it and make it available to me. Essentially, free stat points for killing stuff. I sense some murder-hoboing in the future.
Luke called the sword back from his inventory and stared at the blade. It really was beautiful.
Returning it to its sheath, he put it beside his bed. His inventory, while useful, wasn't something he could explain.
I should probably fill it up on some food and other camping supplies, though. Some talismans, too. Those were useful.