1.15 In Which the Dark Lord is Responsible for a Workplace Safety Violation

1.15 In Which the Dark Lord is Responsible for a Workplace Safety Violation

This is a Spirit?

This one isnt exactlytypical, Aster admitted.

These are the things that hand out spells and artifacts.

Wellamong other things. And, not all of them. Not this one, obviously.

Four days after my unexpected but profitable visit from the goblins, I was standing in a pleasant little meadow surrounded on three sides by the khora forest but carpeted with nice, normal field grass and even a smattering of flowers. The last days had been spent helping clean the fortress, having Goose teach me to fight, and learning more facts about Ephemera, Fflyr Dlemathlys, and Dount from Biribo. That, and worrying about what was happening in Gwyllthean with Gilder, Clan Olumnach and Lady Gray. All of these activities were productive except the worrying, but they had in common that there was a lot of progress to be made on every front and none of my efforts felt like I was really getting anywhere yet. It was quite a relief to be here, now, in this nearly pastoral scene, even if Id come to study more Ephemera nonsense.

In the exact center of this little meadow was a small and gently sloping hill barely taller than me, and right at the apex of that sat the Spirit.

The Spirit resembled a white stone pillar no more than chest-high, rounded in style and worn further by time and weather, deeply engraved with geometric patterns that in some cases looked faded from erosion. And it was definitely stone, not akorthist. It only activated when approached; this one was inert until someone drew within about two meters of it.

I studied the Spirit in silence, then set off back up the hill for my second visit to it. Biribo buzzed along at my shoulder as usual, though Aster opted to remain behind this time.

As before, once I got close enough it lit up. The deep lines engraved in the alter began to glow with a shifting, chromatic luminescence, and a slowly rotating ring of symbols made of light appeared in a circle around its peak, like a halo. From this rose an image like a hologram, forming the shape of a somewhat stylized old womans face.

Why, hello, dearie, the Spirit said in a creaking voice which matched the image, and additionally sounded like it had been electronically processed somehow. Electronic music isnt my forte but I recognized the presence of deliberate audio filters that gave it an unearthly quality. What is your favorite color?

Still gray, I replied.

How lovely! the Spirit said with apparent enthusiasm. Just like on my previous attempt, holographic butterflies and sparkling effects like tiny fireworks burst into being around the whole hill, dancing and flashing in the sunlight. It was pretty, I had to admit. Probably wouldve looked downright breathtaking at night. But

And thats it, I said, as the lights around the altar itself and the projection of the Spirits face disappeared, leaving it dark and inert once more. Glowing butterflies continued to dance on the breeze around us, letting off little trails of glitter in the air.

Thats all you get from old Granny Sparkles, Aster said. Thats what shes called, locally.

Every Spirits different, Biribo added. They all have their own task, and their own reward. The task can be just about anything; the reward is usually something related to Blessings, but there are more whimsical ones like this. Also, most of the ones with more concrete rewards will only let you complete their task once.

Oh, but I can tell it my favorite color and get a light show as many times as I like? Usefulandfair.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

Also, you gotta be careful if you attempt a Spirits task. Not all of them will punish a failed attempt, but when they do the punishments can getexotic. He flicked out his tongue teasingly.

I descended back down the hill toward Aster. Right. So when you were so insistent that I absolutely must tell the Spirit my real favorite color?

Yeah, if you lie to Granny Sparkles you get struck by lightning, she said, her delivery remarkably blas for such an announcement. Thats why weve got privacy up here, Lord Seiji. This particular Spirit isnt good for anything except getting children and stupid people killed. Everybody on Dount knows to avoid it. More important ones are either tucked away in dangerous places or one of the Clans has built a castle around them. So, wait, your favorite color is gray? Seriously?

I like simplicity, I replied. Free lightning, huh. If only I had the faintest fucking clue how to build a battery or generator or anything electrical, I could start getting some real shit done.

Well, Aster offered, falling into step beside me as we set off back out of the meadow, maybe if todays plan works out you can start buying some more scrolls! Theres gotta be a lightning spell somewhere.

Wait, you can buy scrolls? I exclaimed, turning an accusing look on Biribo. You said they were only rewards from dungeons and Spirits!

Not only, he retorted. Of course you can buy scrolls, you got yours from a dead peddler. How do you think that happened?

You said Virya planted those!

I said she probably planted the Heal scroll among the rest of them. Remember, I made a whole big point about how it didnt fit in with the others in the selection, which I wasnt surprised to find there? You gotta start paying attention to details, boss, the nuancell getcha killed.

Now that I thought back, he had said something like that. In my defense, it was in my first minutes on Ephemera, people were trying to kill me, and I was awash in a bunch of isekai exposition trying to pick out which bits would help me survive another hour. He wasnt wrong about the other part, either; I really was trying to be more detail-oriented.

Wellyou cant exactlyjust buy scrolls, Aster said more hesitantly.

This time I stopped walking and rounded on her. You literally just said

Sorry! she winced, raising her hands. I was trying to be encouraging! You can theoretically buy scrolls, but in practice its morecomplicated.

There are very rare spells thatll let you create scrolls, Biribo explained. Other than that, theyll be dungeon or Spirit rewards and only go to market if theyre earned by somebody who doesnt need or want them for themselves. So theyre either handcrafted by one of a half dozen sorcerers on the planet who can do that, or somebody with very in-demand skills risked their life to get them. Youre not gonna find commodities like that just sitting on shelves in a shop. A lot of the time, there arent even middlemen; if you wanna buy a scroll, you gotta do it directly from whoever its first owner is. That means not only having a shitload of money, but connections. Theres a reason I didnt prompt you to try it when we were in town, boss.

Yeah, joining the Kings Guild would be just the first step toward that, Aster added. Youd also have to build up a good reputation, get some impressive quests under your belt

So what the hell was that peddler doing with them?

Hes too dead to explain himself, but he probably stole them, said Biribo. We had passed into one of the arms of khora forest semi-encircling the Spirits meadow, and I could see the rest of my bandits up ahead; Sakin waved to me from his perch in a branch of khora. That kinda theft gets at least a Clans private army after you, if not the Kings Guild itself. He was probably heading for the lake to trade the scrolls for sanctuary among the dark elves, got lost in the khora forest, stumbled onto the old road and ended up at North Watch. Wouldntve been the first to try that, but he wasnt gonna survive in any event. The naga wouldve just killed him and taken the scrolls anyway.

That reminds me, I said, suddenly feeling a little guilty for having forgotten about this till now, you lot did give him a respectful send-off while I was in Gwyllthean?

Just as you ordered, Lord Seiji, Harold said nervously, eyeing me as if expecting an attack, as usual. So far I wasnt sure if he was nervous in general or just nervous around me, which I wouldnt have blamed him for considering Id Immolated him twice. None of us is a priest, but we had a service. Sakin said some words.

The guards were having a much harder time dealing with this. I winced as one brought a giant mace down right on a fire slime, utterly splattering itsending droplets of burning goo flying in every direction, followed by a shower of curses and blows from his compatriots discouraging him from trying that again. Slimes were just inexorable, in the way they couldnt be smashed or cut, even the pieces continuing about their business if you dismantled them. Without magic or heat, you couldnt kill a slime, just make more, smaller slimes. But set that same nuisance on fire, and what was just annoying became a real nightmare. Even burning them wouldnt work anymore.

There was no one Blessed with Magic among the guards, hence their failure to disperse the normal slimes, but I spied one woman with an artifact sword apparently directing them. From what Id learned of Fflyr culture, a woman was very unlikely to be in charge of anything unless she had a Blessing to start with. This one kept a cool head, and seeing that their conventional methods werent getting anywhere, tried a more effective tactic of gently prodding and nudging a fire slime away toward the edge of the road with the tip of her weapon.

I put a stop to that by directing the slime to latch onto the blade and begin crawling up it toward her hands. The sensible thing to do at that point was to drop the sword, but she wasnt willing to relinquish the artifact and stepped back, frantically flailing with it to dislodge the encroaching slime. I suspected that sword had strength-enhancing powers, to judge by how hard she was able to swing it. The slime was ripped free and went sailing away, landing beside the road and starting a small grass fire. Fortunately it was in the ditch, in which there were a few centimeters of muddy water at the bottom, an ideal environment for the slimes to hide in, and a way for me to extinguish the fiery ones when I was done here.

Thats it, I muttered. You dont want any more of this. Come on, you bastards, time to break and run.

They werent, though. Auldmaer was growing more frantic by the minute, nearly all the teamsters and a couple of the guards had retreated from the front wagon where the fire slimes were concentrated, and even the placid dhawls hitched to it were growing agitated. Fire has that effect on animals. Still, they were staying on task, even if for most of them that meant milling about helplessly outside of scorching range, kicking stray slimes into the ditch.

Then the adventurer discovered that with her swords strength boost, swinging it like a golf club would wreck most of a slime and send its pieces flying. She began industriously scything them into the ditch, setting it on fire and getting rid of maybe half a slime per swing. I could tell at a glance that this wasnt a winning strategy in the long run; under my direction, the pieces of slimes just crawled back up, joining back together and returning to their place in the circle. Slow as they were, that process took a lot longer than it took her to smack them, but I was also summoning more slimes onto the road; the numbers made hers an impossible task.

Until, at her apparent exhortation, some of the other guards found their nerve and started to copy her method. The guy whod splattered the first fire slime dashed forward with his mace and hucked an entire slime clear over the ditch and into the grass beyond.

So now I was in a war of attrition with a less than certain outcome, and there was a grass fire creeping steadily closer to my position. Perfect.

Uh, boss? Biribo asked. Whatre you waiting for?

Quiet! I hissed. Let me concentrate.

Finally, the first of the caravan personnel started to runbut, to my extreme annoyance, he wasnt fleeing. The adventurer in charge of the guards pointed back up the road the way they had come, shouting something indistinct from this distance, but I was definitely seeing someone dispatched to bring help.

Shit. How long would it take him to reach the Clan Yldyllich toll post from here? Id planned to terrorize the entire staff into fleeing at once and have that much time to do what I needed to and depart before reinforcements arrived. The rest of them were swinging gamely on, though, swatting slimes as fast as I could summon them, and faster than the splattered fire slimes could re-form and rejoin the fray. Already there were enough fire slimes in play that it was beginning to strain my concentration just to keep them in a rough circle around the wagon, and they still werent enough to make the guards or even the teamsters give this up as a bad job, much less the adventurer. Also, all the grass on both sides of the road was now on fire. Khora wasnt flammable so it would only be the grass that burned, but that was already going to be more collateral damage than Id wanted, not to mention a hazard to me.

Why did none of my plans ever work? It was almost as if I had no experience or aptitude for this kind of thing.

There was still phase three The theoretical phase three. The last step I had told myself it probably wouldnt come to, but I could still break out in an emergency. This was quickly approaching emergency status, but now that the time was at hand I was frozen.

My spyglass remained fixed on the adventurer, the one in charge and the only source of both backbone and direction for the caravan guards; Auldmaer was even more useless than I in a situation like this. All I had to do

It wasnt even a weapon. I think it wouldnt have been as bad if my only option had been to throw deadly fireballs. It was justtorture. Every previous time Id used it had been on some murderer attempting to do violence which I urgently needed to stop. This, though, was just a woman doing her job and doing it well, and being in my way.

I couldnt, not like this.

Gooses substantial muscular bulk settled in uncomfortably close on my left, between me and Twigs, resting a familiar hand on my shoulder. Id come to like Goose over the last few days; like most of my crew except probably Sakin she was one of those driven to banditry by desperate circumstances whose details I didnt know, rather than any desire to prey on other people. She had been teaching me sword fighting, knife fighting and bare-handed fighting, and had warmed up to me considerably once I made it clear I didnt mind being smacked around when it was for a good cause.

Now she leaned in close to my ear and spoke so quietly none of the others could hear.

It speaks well of you that you dont want to hurt anyone unnecessarily, Lord Seiji. But like it or not, youre a bandit now, and you have to make peace with the necessity. You chose to attack the caravan; letting it draw out any further is only going to make all this messier, and if we dont get what you came for, all of it was for nothing. We all have to make our choices and take responsibility for the consequences. If Im speaking out of turnwell, youll do what you need to. I understand.

What I needed to? I was not going to start punishing people for telling me uncomfortable truth when I needed to hear it, that was a strategy for quick self-destruction. I shifted my head from the spyglass to glance over my shoulder and give her a small nod; Goose withdrew, leaving only Twigs in my view looking performatively oblivious.

I looked through the lens again, once more fixing my view on the adventurer bravely smacking flaming monsters off the road, rallying her meager troops, and generally being the source of my problems right now.

God damn it. Someday, Virya was going to pay for putting me in this situation.

Immolate.

We could all hear her scream clearly across that distance.

I lowered the spyglass and closed my eyes, then immediately made myself open them and look. No, Seiji, you chose to do this. You will watch it happen.

She had fallen and dropped her sword, and was already curled into a fetal ball in the road, blazing like a bonfire and no longer able to scream. I shifted my concentration, moving the fire slimes away from her so this wouldnt get any worse than it had to be.

That had finally done the trick; the other guards had stopped playing slime golf to back up, staring in horror. Between the distance and the angle I couldnt see the womans entire body disintegrating into charcoal and constantly re-forming so as to keep suffering, but I well remembered what a grotesque thing that was to see. However hardened these guys might be, that was too much. The wagon drivers were already fleeing in both directions along the road, and the guards took that as permission. Nobody wanted to stay and be the next. To a man they bolted, ignoring Mr. Auldmaers shouted imprecations.

As Immolate faded and the healing effect started to overtake the fire, my victims long shrieks of pain became audible again, once she had intact lungs and vocal cords. I forced myself to keep the glass fixed on her and watch the entire process. It was just a few more seconds before she was lying shivering in the road with her clothes gently smoking, but to her it probably felt like years. It was at least a couple of hours for me, and I was only watching.

Tremulously, she stumbled to her feet, taking stock of the mostly-departed slimes, the still very much present fire slimes encircling the wagon with her employer trapped on it, and her now-complete lack of backup.

Pausing only to bend and grab her artifact sword, she turned and ran without even dignifying Auldmaers yelling with an acknowledgment. Smart woman.

Damn, Sakin breathed. That is a neat trick.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

What? He shrugged. Im not wrong, and I didnt say it was pleasant. Pretty fucking impressive, though.

I finally stood from my own crouched position behind the low blade of khora that had been sheltering me and Twigs, only belatedly noting that my body was uncomfortably stiff after all that. At the moment, I was more concerned with how sick to my stomach I felt.

All of you hold position until we beckon you over, I said. Come on, Aster, we have an appointment with Mr. Auldmaer. Its rude to keep a businessman waiting.