Three. Two. One. The walls and ceiling, along with Gabrielle’s beautiful features across the room, faded out into shades of darkness. Rowan floated out of his body, and euphoric energy rose from within, bloomed, and swept through every inch of his spirit. Once again, he was a fledgling Demon lord.

He was alive.

Sloped ground pressed against the soles of his wooden sandals. Outlines of broken pine trees were sketched then filled in with photo-realistic textures and shading under a midday cloudy sky. More than realistic; his eye sight was much sharper, 20/20, individual pine needles clear and frosty. He was standing at the exact spot where he’d logged out, on the trail of stumps, a couple dozen yards from the big waterfall and spring. Hopefully that giant eagle was gone.

The chatbox beeped and shook.

Gabby LeMort (To Rowan LeMort): Heya Row! :)

A heart-warming smile cracked his frozen lips. As slave threads returned to him, he pulled his bear fur coat tighter.

Rowan LeMort: Hey! :) Found anything good?

Gabby LeMort: Just lots of normal-quality mulch so far. Great fertilizer!

Running downhill, he stayed positive, for beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Rowan LeMort: So I met Lance and Dorian in the communal area.

Gabby LeMort: Please don’t tell me ya threw a chair at them!

Rowan LeMort: I did, and by that I mean we had some friendly small talk, but one of the community managers gave me a not-so-subtle warning about our slaves. There’s also an 80k credit prize for the first SSS dungeon clear. Did you know?

The chatbox was much better at interpreting his mind’s words. A stealth patch?

Gabby LeMort: Yup, and they’re watching us that closely? I thought there were new privacy laws…

Rowan LeMort: They’re just monitoring player stress levels.

Hurdling over three fallen trunks, he landed before a ruined stretch of the forest—the Ancient Manawood Ent’s remains. For over fifty yards was naught but mulch and shrinking wisps of nature magic. A spicy olive scent was highly appealing to his airways as he walked onto a cleared path.

Something glinted by his toes. He plucked a tiny square-cut diamond smaller than a grape seed.

Gabrielle was suddenly at his side. “Mine.” She swiped. On her muddy palm, the gem enlarged into a glowing blob of mana, forming two circles.

Silver Coin (2)

She dropped them into the pouch at her waist. Her crimson cat eyes flicked up to him. “So.”

“So?”

“Did ya re-schedule our appointment?”

He coughed in relief. “Jeez. Thought I messed up something big for a second. Next Saturday, same time.”

She wasn’t pleased, her hand on her hip. “Your health isn’t important?”

“My health is fine.” He grasped her smaller fingers. “I think a part of you is worried that I’m getting tired our marriage. Because we’ve been together for years now, and we’re getting past the… what do they call it? The honeymoon stage?”

She blinked a few times in a way expecting him to continue. “So you are getting tired?”

“Of course not. This is a life-long commitment.”

“Hmmm…” She was tapping her chin. “Can ya say that again without the helmet?”

His laughter bounced off the face plate. He lifted the bucket off his shoulders. Instantly, cold air bit his cheeks. “This is a life-long commitment, alright? I’m not going anywhere, and the same goes for you.”

She was slow to say, “Okay, but if ya keep looking at Ayla’s chest and butt, I’m gonna start thinking things. By the way, ya should know she’s a no-good two-faced hussy.”

His eyes dramatically rolled. “I’m sure she’s a perfectly decent person IRL even if she’s a thief here.” He put the helmet back on.

“I’m serious. Tasha said she let some guy grope her in exchange for fifty steak meals, which she isn’t sharing with us.”

“Oh wow.” He did a double-take. “Hang on. Did you say fifty steaks?”

“Yup.”

“What if our Elves starve? Jassin’s not even a teenager.”

“She said she’ll consider then, but only then.”

He briefly mused on it, glancing left and right. Skylar and Luthias were further downhill. Next to Mossy’s sleek, bulbous Adamantite carapace, a mane of red hair was fluttering with Tasha’s chestnut. They did seem to get along even though their personalities were at odds. Their friendship was one of perfect opposites.

Rowan decided he wanted to give Ayla the benefit of the doubt. “Let’s see what she does—as a test of trust. If she steps on a line, she’s out, and we’re taking her food.”

“Kay.” Gabrielle’s posture perked back up, her tiara and necklace glittering.

“I forgot to ask what your Luck set does.”

“Oh. It doubles the chance for loot gems to drop for anyone in my party.” She blinked. “Yup. I said it right. Four out of five pieces needed. I’ll probably swap out the tiara for a belt at some point.”

“Like a hood?”

She smiled wickedly. “Exactly like a black hood creepily covering my eyes. All I’ll be missing is a dragonsteel sword. Zaine’s going to be jealous! Hehehe.”

Nerves jolted at the back of his skull. He reached into the pouch at his right leg, pulled out a reddish-gray ingot, strangely warm to the touch. “Then it’s good that I found this in the dungeon yesterday, and, no, I didn’t forget.” He dropped it back in and checked the pouch’s visibility settings. Only he himself could examine the contents.

“I know.” Her tongue clicked. “So one ingot can make one bastard sword and a bit. Who’s getting the bit?”

A faded moving picture of the battle at Stonehurst entered his mind’s eye. A Myrmidon had bifurcated a Lich in a single uppercut. Vamir Shasatra, the long-haired Sun Elf male. His weapon was nimble, elegant, and thin. Rowan suggested, “How about two rapiers?”

“A rapier?” She pouted. “I dun want a stick, Row. I want to look intimidating.”

“Rapiers can be intimidating. It all depends on how you wear yourself.”

Lips knotting, she grumbled from her throat—her very much exposed throat.

He said, “That’s still a while away. Luthias needs… a vial of condensed light for his scars. Maybe we’ll find more dragonsteel by then.”

“Maybe means most likely not in your dictionary,” she giggled.

Tasha was approaching with awkward steps over mulch piles. She smirked. “Hi Rowan. Don’t forget about that appointment, and I’ve found two loot gems. Who gets to open them?”

Apparently, Gabrielle had long decided: “Everyone will get a share, including the Elves, but Luthias will get a double share cus he needs medicine. Drop em into the box over there.”

“Good idea,” Rowan agreed. An equal split was workable for a tightly-knit tribal group like this. It just wouldn’t scale, but he wanted to maintain a two-digit population at LeMort’s Hollow. Two digits on the lower end of the spectrum.

For the rest of the morning into the afternoon, they worked tirelessly sifting through the Manawood Ent’s remains for every last gem, each assigned to a section of mulch. Mulch that decayed into a layer of ultra-fertile topsoil while the last of the nature wisps dispersed. Not a single manawood acorn piece or twig was found, but a tiny crate was filled to the brim with loot gems of varying colors.

Seventy-three in total.

Only six were onyx, Rowan sneaking those for himself. One was larger than a knuckle, two were flat like fingernails, and the other three were pupil-sized. First, he asked the pupils to each dilate into dragonsteel ingots. Weights grew on his palms. Two pop-ups expanded together, another after a delay.

Sandstone Brick

Type: Crafting Material

Quality: 534 (Admirable)

- - - - -

Sandstone Brick

Type: Crafting Material

Quality: 539 (Admirable)

- - - -

Blacksteel Ore

Type: Crafting Material

Purity: 294

Two sandstone bricks of similar quality… What were the chances? Disappointing. Simply disappointing. He placed the bricks into a pouch for building materials, and the ore into the ore pouch. Next up, a fingernail gem glowed brighter on his palm, bulged into a hefty weight. The texture of silky fabric, a spool of matte black threads, spilled down the sides of his hand.

Ebonystring (1)

Type: Crafting Material

Quality: 426 (Good)

Not bad for high-res clothing, especially resistant against dark magics. It wasn’t rare or anything wondrous. Just decent. He chucked it into a pouch for textiles. Then the second fingernail was opened. It quickly formed four heavy circles.

Gold Coin (4)

Gold was always welcome. He pouched the coins, then with all his heart he prayed to Draesear that the knuckle gem was holding a legendary weapon from ages long ago. Please, just one good item. A dense weight was infuriatingly slow to form. A brick. No, a metal ingot. The metal was blackish-gray, unpolished, marbled with veins of blood.

Demonsteel Ingot

Type: Crafting Material

Heart fluttering, Rowan shoved it into his pouch. He glanced around. No one had saw. Good. Very good. But he threw Gabrielle a private message.

Rowan LeMort: Just got a demonsteel ingot…

Gabby LeMort: So YOU stole all the onyx gems!

Rowan LeMort: I did, and they all turned into crap, except this ingot. Did you folks get anything good?

Gabby LeMort: Nope, but there’s a ring for ya here.

He sauntered a dozen feet to a craft full of bricks. She loudly poked his helmet as he snatched a highly-polished black ring.

Enchanted Blacksteel Ruby Ring of Agility and Lesser Penetration

Type: Accessory (ring)

Quality: 491 (Good)

+6 Agility (Quality: 331)

Lesser Penetration: Your melee attacks ignore 10% of your target’s armor, additively stacking with other penetration effects up to 50%

“Sweet.” He pushed the ring onto his left middle finger. The ruby radiated an energetic feeling and settled in with his own Demonic magic. He checked his stats, finding his room and food buffs had disappeared thanks to logging out—a fair penalty.

Rowan LeMort

Race: Demon

Level: 17 (EXP: 12,720/54,000)

Class: Swordsman

Fate: Demonborn

Demonic Path: Seared Mana (Grants Hellfire, +10% maximum Mysticism. -20% maximum Constitution. -10% maximum Agility)

Constitution: 20 (16)

Agility: 32 (38)

Mysticism: 5 (6)

Flow: 5

Resistance: 0

Luck: 0

Free Points: 6

Active Equipment Slots

Head: Blacksteel Full Helmet (+1 Agility)

Torso: Bear Fur Coat (+1 Agility)

Legs: Unavailable

Feet: Pinewood Sandals (+1 Agility)

Hands: Empty

Belt: Empty

Necklace: Empty

Right-hand Ring: Blacksteel Ruby Ring of Agility and Lesser Penetration (+6 Agility)

Left-hand Ring: Empty

Main-hand Weapon: Moonfyre (+1 Agility)

Off-hand Weapon: Unavailable

Easy math ran through his head. Everything was in order. Following Zaine’s standard school build (one Const per two Agil), Rowan dumped all six points into Agil. Done. And only three more levels till his next Swordsman skill.

Fingers clicked in front of his face. Ayla. “Yo. Are you in there?”

“What is it?”

“Gab is feeding Mossy all our mithril ore.”

Rowan looked over his shoulder. Indeed, Gab was gleefully offering lumps of bluish rock to Mossy, who gobbled it up with matching glee, if a giant adamantite spider could show happiness at all. He was imagining things again. Back at Ayla: “So what? Mithril ore isn’t that great.”

“It’s worth a few credits a pop—for low purity.”

That was news. “It was like half a credit last I checked.”

“Well it’s soaring in price now, and she knows it is.”

Skylar came strolling to Ayla’s side. He stood a bit too close to her, but she didn’t appear to mind. And he was a wearing a black cloak, hoodless. He said, “I got a nice cloak. Plus twenty-two agility.”

Ayla said sweetly, “Skylar, don’t you think it’s a waste that Gab’s feeding Mossy mithril ore?” Her eyelashes batted.

And his cheeks reddened. “Ah… Yeah, I do.”

“See,” Ayla said, “it’s a waste. She just fed like fifty credits worth of mithril.”

Naturally, Rowan sided with his wife, and this wasn’t a dumb choice either. “We’re hoping Mossy eventually grows into a dragonsteel spider. Trust us, it’ll be worth the investment.”

Ayla’s eyes were most unimpressed. “You know the chances of that is almost zero, especially since there aren’t any dragon roosts—”

Skylar interrupted: “I saw a dragon the first night.”

“Aye,” Rowan said. “Here be dragons lurking among these mountains.”

“Still.” Ayla’s arms cross under her bosom. “It isn’t going to happen. You might as well sell the mithril and buy yourself some dragonsteel. You’re taking needless risks.”

“Did you forget about Gab’s Luck build?”

“Zero multiplied by a thousand is still zero.”

“But it’s not zero. It’s near-zero. Big difference. The payoff could be massive. We’d be rich from Mossy’s shedding alone.”

“Lord LeMort. You’re playing a fool’s lottery.”

“Someone has to eventually win the lottery. Why can’t it be—”

There was a short high-pitched scream. Tasha’s pings for assistance stacked at the right.

Moonfyre drawn, Rowan jumped into action and sprinted downhill through broken trees. In seconds, he was standing before a pale corpse. No blood. No wounds.

Luthias was dead.