Ten minutes later.

Viv took a sip of klod. The stench of corpses was gone from her nose but the memory remained, and only chasing it with something pleasant made her taste buds forget for a while. It was like treating PTSD with cheap whisky, only less self-destructive.

She checked her status.

Focus +1

Acuity +1

Black Witch 2/5

Her focus had reached 35, making it a pretty high score according to what Varska had told her. It was the value that a mid-level professional would have, and it also made her a very dangerous foe. Focus allowed for more powerful spells to be cast while acuity dealt with speed and efficiency. Willpower was closer to mental stamina. All of them were vital for a mage, just like working on one’s conduits was important as well. She was still ‘early on the path’ as the others had said, but she was already powerful enough to fend off dangerous monsters.

Even the Temple Guards had praised her before congratulating one of their own.

“To Torm, who reached the fourth step on his path! To our new wall pillar!”

The flustered guard had long braids that reached his shoulders but also a receding hairline, beard and moustache. He had a sort of old biker vibe that Viv found endearing as he blushed under the collective praise. He was now close to Koro’s equal in terms of power.

There really was a massive difference between steps of the paths, Viv thought, as Torm demonstrated how people next to him would be harder to move and push. On earth, technology was a massive power multiplier but here it was exceptional individuals who made a difference. She wondered how many battles had been won by smaller numbers simply because quality was overwhelmingly in their favor.

Then Arthur jumped on her and preened her, squealing all the while.

“Yes, yes, I know I did a good job.”

“Squee!”

“The, ahem, drake is right Viv. That was an impressive display of power. I really want to hire you now,” Marruk said with obvious relief.

Danger sense: apprentice 3

Mana manipulation: Intermediate 3

More than her mind, it was her skills that were lagging behind so this progress was good news. There was really no replacement for hands-on experience, it seemed. Especially the close-brush-with-death kind.

Meanwhile, the Yries were rejoicing as well, if the strange hoots were any indication. They were hugging and falling on the ground with obvious relief.

“What now?” she asked Farren as he had come to congratulate her.

“Now that you have freed them and that we have demonstrated how dangerous you are, and now that it has become clear that they are desperately in need of food, we negotiate from a position of strength.”

“You’re the diplomat, diplomat. Also, does Neriad condone such cutthroat practices?”

“The sword of justice’s iron needs to come from somewhere, you know? We are not starving them.”

Farren went to pat Viv on the shoulder but he reconsidered when Arthur hissed. Apparently, her tolerance for mankind only went so far. Viv was left to stand awkwardly in the aftermath of the battle until the Yries invited them to a celebratory meal. It was the shittiest party food Viv had ever had, and Farren's suspicion that the poor folks were starving was confirmed beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Viv was left to sleep for the evening and left in the morning with the rest of the guard, their business done.

“They will provide ore against regular shipments of food which I can provide without much issue. Kazar produces a large surplus. Normally, most of the food is sold to passing garrisons and the rest stored, but this will help us get started. I also mentioned abandoned foundries at the entrance and Gar Gar will send a team to see if anything can be salvaged.”

“So we can expect new armors soon?” Viv asked, thinking about Marruk.

“Well, no. We don’t have qualified smiths in Kazar to begin with. They will have to be invited. We also have no guarantee that ingots will even start flowing this year. The Yries are good, but not that good. And their base is too far from the entrance to be safe. There is much to consider… Ah, I am sacrificing the present for the future. I set out to find a mine and now I worry about unexpected facilities being irreparable. Neriad save me from myself.”

“Yeah, everything worked out. Let’s just take the win for now.”

“Take the win, huh? I can do that.”

The expedition headed back without incident. The base camp was packed up in record time with the helpers pleased that they would be home sooner than expected. Their pleasure increased when Farren gave them his share of the treasure they had found. Viv thought that it was quite smart, but she also realized why he had done so.

There was nothing to spend your money on in Kazar.

Besides the Spotted Feather and its enthusiastic crew, no luxury existed in the border town because there was no demand for it. People were broke. Even the store that sold supplies for passing soldiers didn’t keep anything more elaborate than crude leather armors in their inventories. Armors were not one-size-fits-all after all.

The expedition passed triumphantly through mountain tribe land. Chief Marredyn smelled the profit to come and organized a feast that didn’t suck, and during which Viv got pleasantly tipsy again. They left quickly and were back in Kazar within three weeks of leaving. Viv invited Varska to join her for dinner at the Feather, with Marruk now comfortably ordering massages and a bath by herself. The pair amused themselves cleaning and brushing Arthur and left to their own quarters later in the night.

“You come back a victorious warrior, which pleases me greatly. But then, instead of wooing me properly with an exotic gift, you invite me to a brothel. I have mixed feelings about this,” the haughty mage said while reclining on a chair.

“I merely wanted to mark the occasion with the finest food in Kazar, darling,” Viv replied with the casual grace of the consummate bullshitter.

Varska tapped a knuckle with her favorite fan and nodded.

“I give you a passing grade on excuse-making, but that will not suffice.”

“I have a red ribbon I obtained in the mountain hold. Here,” Viv said, offering a piece of dyed fabric.

“Ah, a rare treasure. The tribes do not sell those. How did you get it?”

“I removed black mana from a pair of wounded children. Now am I suitably heroic?”

“I believe that I have yet to be ravished.”

“I thought you would never ask.”

Kazar once again returned to normal over the following month. Spring gave way to early summer as Viv worked relentlessly to improve her abilities. Her periods of training alternated with small expeditions either in the forest or the deadlands to subdue the occasional threat. She also wanted to get started on regrowing limbs, unfortunately she met with a problem. The inquisitors were busy doing their thing and could not come. She could understand that saving real lives was more important than her highly theoretical project and took no offense.

Her reputation improved with the locals and Varska’s own image got better by extension. Soon, it was time for several of the forts to have their garrisons replaced. Her progress spoke for itself.

Current status:

Mana channels (apprentice mage) Extreme compatibility Divine spark: luck Draconic Surrogate Mother

Mana distribution:

Black 100%

Current attunement: 21.3%

Her channels had not progressed noticeably. Like skills, they took time to develop. She had also considerably slowed down the speed of her attunement which was not actually a bad thing since it meant that she would die more slowly. She still had around two years, though Varska suggested that it could be extended if she went to Helock and received help.

Physical

Mental

Power

16

Focus

35

Finesse

19

Acuity

34

Endurance

22

Willpower

34

Both power and willpower had progressed, a result of long sessions of casting followed by forms. She had suggested training finesse, but Varska had dismissed it.

“You can train it on your own free time if you wish, but be aware that reaching a milestone requires constant effort and dedication. You are still human, even if sorcery comes to you easily. You can only concentrate on so many things before fatigue becomes a factor.”

Class skills

Meditative Trance

Expert 1

Mana manipulation

Intermediate 4

Mana sense

Intermediate 2

Danger sense

Apprentice 3

Mana absorption

Intermediate 3

All mana-related skills had progressed, which was what she had been striving for. Meditative trance had remained the same and she suspected that she would need to dedicate more time to it or study with a real expert in order to progress further. Varska favored plain meditation and found movements distracting, so she could not help there. It was the same problem with Solfis.

//Standard training for the imperial family also favors meditation, Your Grace.

//Meditative trance is a skill more associated with arcane fighters, like Lorn.

//I am unable to provide accurate advice on this specific topic.

//Rest assured that the rest of your training still follows optimal parameters.

None of her general skills had progressed, simply because she had not taken the time to work on them. Again, it was all arbitration. She had only so much energy to spend every day.

At least, training itself remained pleasant. Some of the novelty had faded away, only to be replaced by the comfort of habit. Black mana was as much part of her as her sight. Even spending half a day without casting felt strange and unsettling. It helped that she was apparently good at magic, and that she had two competent trainers to back her up. Solfis, in particular, guided her through new and complex exercises designed to improve her understanding of mana on a visceral level with a degree of patience that the greatest educators could not match. No amount of frustration could deter him. She was able to get a feel for magic and establish solid foundations in a way that the status could not reflect.

//The god’s blessings affect all intelligent species.

//But he can only help you so much.

Her training was designed so that she would have nothing to unlearn moving forward. For some reason, Solfis was convinced that she would live long enough to benefit from it. She hoped that he was right.

Viv had just realized that she was really getting comfortable with life in Nyil when a kid ran up to her as she was practicing a new glyph.

“The mayor wants to see you, miss. She wants to see everyone. The Enorian king just sent us an envoy.”

Just as the civil war flared? That could not be good, Viv thought.

She popped back home to get changed and walked to the main square, a vigilant Marruk in tow. The massive tree of Kazar was still purple and resplendent, and its shade was welcome in the light of the afternoon. The town hall was a buzz of activity, but most people stepped around a group of obviously nervous warriors.

Viv inspected them with interest.

[Enorian foot knight. Dangerous. Follows a path that focuses on squad tactics and the use of polearms.]

The knights wore full plate armor under a blue and white tabard, with conical helmets that left the eyes exposed. Gauntleted fists clenched halberds like lifelines. They were obviously nervous and on guard, and that was a very bad sign.

They expected what the envoy had to say to be received poorly.

Viv walked in through the garden and interconnected structure that made up Kazar’s seat of power — for what it was worth — and found the council room in the shade of an old willow-like tree. Another two of the guards stood there, weapons crossed over the closed door. They didn’t move when Viv stopped in front of them.

“I was summoned here by the mayor, whose domain this still is. Unless you have a good reason to keep me out you will let me through.”

“The resident spellcaster is already present.”

“And this town has two. Again, I am here at the mayor’s bequest. Let me in. I will not ask a third time.”

Marruk went to stand by Viv’s back just as she let mana flood her conduit. She felt the telltale sign of intimidation.

The guards observed her. She thought that they might be assessing her. They did not seem to be affected by her aura though.

“Alright, go in, but be courteous.”

Viv crossed the threshold just as Marruk planted herself a meter away from the knight. The room inside was packed full, but only on the left. The right part only had a single occupant, a sneering man with a pencil-thin moustache wearing a white and blue doublet. His hands, covered in immaculate white gloves, were crossed over his chest.

On the other side of the table, the Kazar bigwigs had gathered. Mayor Ganimatalo sat in the middle with a pleasant fake smile, her grey braids clinking together when she moved. The dour Captain Corel sat to her right with Farren while Varska throned on her left with perfect poise. Viv hurried and sat by her lover’s side.

“Is your treasurer still milking cornadons in a barn somewhere or can we begin?” the man asked with a demeaning smile.

“We are all here. Thank you for your cordial patience, envoy, you may deliver your message,” the mayor answered.

The visitor glared with undisguised anger at being relegated to the role of courier, but his expression soon morphed into one of vulgar satisfaction.

“I am Viscount Leyr, envoy of his Grace the Second Prince Lancer. As you may know, the Enorian Crown has decided that the time has come to bring the separatists and their regions back into the fold. Our affairs are in order and the time has come for you, Kazar, to fulfill your obligations as part of our august kingdom.”

Viv spared a small glance at Ganimatalo’s sheer expression of disbelief. They had maybe a hundred guards at best, most of them trained to face revenants and beastlings. The Temple troops sure as shit weren’t going to leave the town to participate in a civil war. What did this guy come to get? Cloth?

“As such, you are required to finally pull your weight by paying the late taxes of the past fourteen years.”

In the dead silence that followed, Viv heard the tiniest breath intake coming from the mayor. Sheer shock, that’s what it was.

“We have a charter with the Crown.”

“And that charter is hereby revoked. The Crown requires that you fulfill your obligation, or we will be forced to… take measures.”

“There is not enough coin in the entire city to pay fourteen years of taxes, even without interest.”

“Well then surely you can find something to bargain with? Unless you have spent the last dozen years in leisure while the rest of us toiled to rebuild our great nation? ”

The mayor did not speak, and Viv admired her for it. Her glacial countenance told the envoy all he had to know.

“Kazar’s purpose has always been to serve as a base for the management of the deadlands. You are not doing yourself a service.”

“Ah, the failure of old politicians, who equate their survival with that of their constituents. Rest assured that if you cannot fulfill your obligation, we will find someone who will. Kazar will endure as part of our great kingdom of Enoria. We have sacrificed much over the last two decades while you celebrated and looted corpses. Time to pay the bill.”

Without waiting, the man stood up and grabbed a nearby bag from which he extracted a few sheafs of paper.

“These are declarations of intent from the Prince and you are to post them across the city in any place where the citizens gather, not that I expect that many can read. They detail their obligations and, incidentally, your failures.”

Resh Ganimatalo slowly stood up and crossed the room, grabbing the bundle from the envoy’s surprised hands. She bared her teeth and the paper erupted in fire.

“You just made a grave mistake,” he hissed.

“You have overstayed your welcome. You should have noticed that your security guards are quite nervous. If you keep pushing me, you will find out why,” the mayor replied.

“You can bark all you want, Ganimatalo, but you won’t dare.”

Viv almost didn’t see the mayor move. The large slap echoed across the room and the envoy was left massaging his cheek.

“Next time I’ll use the fist. Get. Out.”

The man left the room and slammed the door behind him.

The mayor returned to her seat and slowly collapsed, resting her forehead on her hand. Viv had never seen such a public display of exhaustion.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

Oh wow, Viv thought. It took a full minute but then the mayor finally found her voice.

“This will require a lot of diplomatic work. I need to get in touch with the temple.”

“We can send a message with the next returning garrison. They are due in two days,” Farren said.

“Should I have the scouts follow him?” Correl asked.

“No. It’s useless. Or is it? Maybe. I’ll make a declaration tonight and deliver your letter. Thanks for coming, Lady Viv and Varska. I do not think your skills will be of much use here. I call the meeting adjourned.”

The two casters left the place and headed to the tower to debrief with Marruk close behind. It was not the kind of issue Viv could solve with firepower.

She had a bad feeling about it.