Seeing a svartalfar in action was interesting.

Mori had slid out a silvery dagger from one of her deceptively deep pockets and ran it across her palm. The creature didn’t so much as flinch, making Lukas wonder just how common it was for the species to do so. He himself was no stranger to seeing blood— whether his own or of those he’d killed —but actively using blood for something so mechanical was surreal to his eyes.

Once enough blood had oozed out, Mori murmured something under her breath and pressed her bloodied palm down on the ground. A layer of extremely concentrated mana swirled around her entire body, caressing her like a lover, making him wonder how she was doing it. Didn’t Roffulfet have no mana-generating capacity at all?

Does it have something to do with her being female?

“She’s converting Nature Energy into Earth-mana.”

Lukas curiously tilted his head. He knew that unlike lifeforce, which was produced within one’s body, mana was generated from the outside by converting Nature Energy into an elemental variant. Of course, it heavily depended upon the environment you were drawing the energy from. A Fire-Shaper would be able to convert a lot more mana from a volcano or a forest fire than a Water-Shaper.

It was what made Zuken a force to be reckoned with while within the Crypt. He was literally in his element. In a similar vein, Olfric Bergott would be more powerful now than back in the Crypt, and his powers would rise by yet another magnitude should Lukas face him near a body of water. He suspected Tanya’s wind-powers were somewhat muffled from being underground, but out here in the open, she’d have an advantage.

As Mori finished chanting, the ground beside her erupted, revealing four gigantic arms surrounding her on all four sides. The earthly constructs stood head and shoulders above them, their open palms facing the sky. Lukas was no expert, but even he could feel something coiling atop them all.

Something dense, strong, and powerful.

Meanwhile, concentric brown rings began to form around the earthly wrists, eerily reminding him of the armbands Tanya and the others wore as part of their attire. Maybe the bands were based on a similar function, though why the mana took such spiral shapes, he had no idea.

“How’s she doing that?”

“Svartalfar blood is an extremely potent mana-converter,” Tanya answered. “Mori used hers to create golems to gather and store energy.” At his bewildered look, she sighed and explained further. “You know how Asukans are unable to perform manacrafting, right?”

“You need kami for it.”

“Most kami can perform elemental crafting easily. The more dangerous kind, or worse, the wild ones, are capable of so much more. It’s why Asukans mostly tend to bind weaker kami to themselves, compelling them to perform manacrafting for them.”

“The Shikigami ritual.” The more Lukas found out about Asukans in general, the more he realized that the difference between humans and Asukans wasn’t physical, but an augmentation— an ability that allowed them to compel other creatures into doing their bidding by establishing bonds with them. The bond wasn’t one of love, respect, or friendship, but a donation of soul capacity that enforced servitude. Kami, for all their ability to manipulate elements, had low soul capacities, and were suckers for forming symbiotic relationships with those that had it in spades.

Like moths attracted to a raging fire.

Tanya glanced at Mori, who was still muttering under her breath. “Svartalfars themselves cannot perform mana-crafting. But, they can sacrifice their own blood and use it as a conversion-medium, allowing earth-based mana-crafting far greater than the average Earth-type kami on its best day.”

Power in return for blood sacrifice, Lukas mused. Not the most conventional ways to gain power. Though if such a thing is publicly known—

“I imagine svartalfar blood must be in great demand in the Empire then?”

Both Tanya and Mori flinched at that.

“You…” Mori turned back to look at him with a scrutinizing eye. “How did you know that?”

Lukas shrugged. What was he supposed to say? Common sense? “Asukans can’t mana-craft. Having a kami— if they can get one suited to them— would mean donating a portion of their soul capacity. If you could just get it done with some blood purchased from— uh, do you have a black market in the Empire? Places where you can buy and sell contraband?”

Tanya looked bemused. “The taverns, yes.”

“Right those,” Lukas continued. “Then you could purchase it from there and get some quick and dirty mana-crafting. Even if it only has to do with Earth-mana, it’d find instant use for construction. You do have laborers here, right? People who work in building construction?”

If Mori had been curious earlier, she was outright wary now.

“For someone from a different world, you’re well-informed about Asukan malpractices,” Tanya muttered.

“Must be a multiversal thing. It’s common where I’m from.” He looked at the paling Mori and instantly clarified. “The illegal sale thing. No svartalfars there though.”

That didn’t pacify the svartalfar. At all.

“There’s a reason why svartalfars live within their private settlements and don’t hire Asukans to do their bidding,” Tanya said. “Collecting spiritually-infused metals is a dangerous, risky job. A very convenient excuse to kill the svartalfar in question and drain their blood.”

“But they trust you?”

“Do you think she’d be this frank with you otherwise?”

“But why? It can’t be just because you’re a hybrid. That still means you’re half-Asukan. No…. that can’t be… unless…” He glanced at her. “They know about your frost powers.”

Mori and Tanya exchanged glances. The svartalfar took out a small jingling pouch and tossed it towards Tanya, who caught it with a grin.

“Told you he’d see through it.”

Mori just grumbled.

Lukas just shook his head in exasperation. “In any case, the Asukan method is just droll. If I were in their place, I’d kidnap a group of svartalfars and then make them breed. Maybe experiment on their blood to see what makes it so potent and try to replicate a synthetic variant, or even combine samples of it with other bloodlines to create—”

He paused midway, surprised. Looking at an earthen spear inches from your face did that to you.

“Was it something I said?”

Mori spoke first. “I am weighing the merits and demerits of killing you here and now. I may not be a warrior like Roffulfet, but I am no slouch. And should I die, it would also ring your death-knell, as the rest of the nation would be out for your blood.”

Lukas helplessly looked towards Tanya.

“We’re just surprised at the calm, methodical way in which you described those tabooed practices,” the blonde explained. “If someone from the High Nobility of the Empire were to come across your ideas…” She shivered. “Experimentation on bloodlines? Synthetic variations of living creatures? These are a taboo among all taboos.”

Lukas decided that mentioning drug research practices to Tanya would be an absolutely terrible idea.

“I thought you were a diplomat!” Tanya accused.

“I am! Or, was. But I also pay attention to what happens in the world around me.”

“Even such heinous methods?”

“Look, my world is different from yours. The methods I described fed millions when we started implementing it. For agriculture. Though, obviously, it can also be used for other living organisms. Don’t assume things from my world without knowing it all, or get caught up in the moral dilemma. It’s just a part of where I’m from.”

“Barbaric,” Mori said.

“Cruel,” Tanya added.

Lukas sighed. “It is what it is. Don’t worry, I’m not lacking in my ability to draw out mana, nor am I interested in making an enemy out of the svartalf nation.”

Still, I can’t blame her paranoia, Lukas chagrined. “At least now, I see why svartalfars don’t deal with Asukans.”

“We do not just not deal with Asukans. We despise them. If not for the fear of triggering the wrath of the Great Goddess, we’d have conquered the Llaisy Kingdom long ago.”

Lukas wondered how Secretary Kinosu would feel about that.

First yokai, now svartalfars, as well as the truly powerful kami being a power unto themselves. At first sight, it appeared that the Empire had an ironclad control over the rest of the subastra. Not just bremetan, but even species from Nordic myths— jotunn, elves, changelings, svartalfars. Everything seemed to revolve around the supremacy established by the Asukan Pantheon, with the Sun Goddess sitting on top.

But now?

The Empire’s throne looked more and more like a ticking time bomb. The Monarch of the Yokai was rising again in Tanya. He presumed the yokai in the Desert were a rebellion army by themselves. The svartalfars hated the Asukans with a passion, and the truly dangerous kami could easily be swayed to hunt and attack Asukan cities. Meanwhile, Asukan kingdoms and towns were plotting against each other, corruption and outside influence gnawing at its roots.

And he, an Outsider, was also thrown into the mess.

Someone that Zuken Banksi regarded as a demigod.

It made him wonder if there was more to Iylaerion than just being a private Guild.

But most importantly, he was both concerned and amused at how nonchalant he was about the entire thing. In truth, he really only cared about two things— find a way to get Inanna back, and ensure that the people he cared for were safe.

So far, only Tanya fitted the latter, and even then, he had his suspicions.

“Why don’t we get started on what we came for?” he suggested. “Time is money.”

“You’re right,” Mori snorted. As she finished speaking, an unseen force lashed out at the ground in front of them, ripping the very rocks of the earth apart and flinging them away. A wave of power exploded out of Mori’s palm, still bared against the ground, sending a shock wave that furrowed through the terrain in a zig-zag until it slammed into the newly formed crater, resulting in another titanic explosion, chunks of a lustrous, silvery metal— each of them the size of an overgrown pumpkin —erupting and falling around them.

“Seems like she hit her treasure,” Tanya replied mirthfully. “Those are some large samples, much bigger than the last time around.” She paused. “Actually, that might be a problem.”

“Why? What is it?” Lukas asked.

“Urathril,” Mori answered. “It is a dense metal. A single chunk can craft a dozen copies of the ax you wield.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Good and bad,” the collector replied, looking unusually wary all of a sudden. “Urathril ore of this size are only found in one kind of environment. Places with underground volcanic activity.”

“What’s that got to do with—”

“Remember what I told you about Ifrits?” Tanya asked, looking around carefully. “Well, they reside in such places. And I think we might’ve captured their attention.”

“Oh.”