Eric knew he was dreaming. Or, somewhere between a dream and The Paths, as he was once more on the moon overlooking Elyndor, and Indedroma was coiled up next to him, her large eye open and looking toward the world. “Why am I here?” Eric asked.
Indedroma’s iris flicked to him for a moment before going back to the planet.
[I wanted to talk to you, as a person to another person.]
He heard her massive tail swish behind him, and then thunk next to him, seemingly trapping him next to her. “Okay,” Eric replied. “Let’s talk.”
[I know everything about you, but you know little about me. That doesn’t seem fair; especially considering that I am hoping you remain an eternal defender of Elyndor. So, ask me any questions you wish.]
Eric looked into her iris, and watched the pink-hued flecks dancing across the black, only pierced by the blue-purple slit that stared at him. “What is your ultimate goal with all of this?”
[I desire Elyndor’s survival.]
She looked out to the world, raising her head, and one of her massive claws raised up to gesture across the vista.
[I love this world, and I always have. Ever since I was hatched, I have loved it: from the highest peaks to the darkest depths. The creatures are fascinating, and people? I love watching them. They’re like . . . treasure, to me. I treasure them, every one.]
Eric chuckled at that. “It’s your hoard. The world is your hoard.”
[That is an apt way to put it. My ultimate goal is to ensure Elyndor’s survival, and be here as long as possible. It is why I sacrificed my body to merge with the Ley Lines, and then used my consciousness and will to form The Paths. It not only saved people once mana began to vent as the Titan grew, but it also allowed me to escape the black void that separates us from death.]
“So it wasn’t all altruism.”
[No. I love this world, yes, but I love myself as well. Who wants to die? To risk the unknown? There was a means to avoid it, and I took it. There is a reason, Eric, why there are so few dragons left—two, in fact. They are dying out. Our lifespans are vast, but even they end.]
Eric felt a hollowness in his chest at that. He knew of one of the two living dragons, as he’d met them in his past timeline. “Are they like your siblings?”
Indedroma stood up and opened her mouth, but the words resonated in Eric’s mind.
[No. If anything, they are far distant cousins. I hate that dragons are dying out, but such is the cycle of life. I try not to interfere too much.]
Eric stood up and walked over, placing a hand on her huge foreleg. “When you’re in the Titan, what is the plan?”
[To persist. Elyndor needs to keep as it is. I will never hatch from it in that body, so the world will remain. I will touch other realms, and thus be able to look at other places to—as you’ve put it in the past—fulfill my voyeuristic tendencies. But, I can also slowly collect from other realities. Not stealing or the like, I assure you. I won’t be this invader deity and take slices of those places, no. I will instead be able to glimpse and make permanent copies in The Paths.]
Eric had an inkling of what that meant, and he said, “So you’ll be expending the Class options in The Paths constantly, instead of requiring people to enter wild dungeons and form Pacts with spectres and shades of those other realities.”
[That is correct.]
“How do the Summoning Stones play into all of this? I know that they connect to different variants of Earth and aren’t prime realities like Elyndor with a single version of itself.”
[What is your question there?]
“Who made them?”
[For all I know, the creator did. All I know in regard to the Summon Stones, is that they are near the Ley Line Loci, and the mega-dungeons. They are all connected.]
Eric took a deep breath as the implication washed over him. Indedroma wasn’t a deity, she wasn’t all-knowing—she was just a mind and soul stuck inside The Paths by her own choice. “Okay then. Will you disable the Summon Stones when you’re in control?”
She tilted her head so that her large eye was looking down on him from above.
[I could, since the mechanism is tied directly to the Titan. Why?]
“I don’t want more people coming here to ruin what we’re making,” Eric said. “Me and the others, we’re going to live a long time if everything goes to plan. I’ll be immortal, provided I don’t die to combat, and can kill enough monsters in wild dungeons you manifest. The same with Misty, whether through cloned bodies and my grabbing her soul to return, or if she obtains a primal force and does what the other Summoned and I are going to do.”
[Very well. I promise you that I will shatter the Summon Stones when I can.]
That brought Eric immense relief. One of his biggest concerns was that other people would be Summoned, and be able to disrupt what he was making, or upset the status quo he wanted to establish. “Thanks. Last question I have. Do you know how the mind and soul are interconnected? I’ve only ever dealt with theory, but you are a being without a body, so surely you have some understanding.”
[There are three parts to every person or creature across all realities. The body, which is the physical form, and is just a shell. Next is the mind, which is your knowledge, experience, and emotion: all of the elements that make a person into a person. The soul is like the glue that holds the mind to the body. But, when the body dies, the soul takes the mind with it. Then, it becomes like I have said before: the soul conveys the consciousness, memories, Paths Within: everything that makes you, you. Hence why your Skill, Nothing’s Certain, can store souls without losing the person; even if you end up putting them into a construct or artificial body.]
“I understand. Now I really want to get some Fleshcrafting knowledge from the Empire of Pwish to set up the cloned bodies of everyone.”
Indedroma’s mouth opened, and Eric heard a laugh in his mind.
[Naomi is already working on cloning via science. You should ask to see her basement under the workshop.]
“I will ask her.”
[I figured you would be asking more mundane questions during this opportunity, and not these deeper, philosophical ones.]
“Sorry,” Eric replied. “Sometimes the fact that you’re a person just skips me, given what you are. What did you want me to ask? Your favorite color?”
[I appreciate you viewing me as a person and not just a database or system administrator. It is pink, but what you’d call ‘hot pink’, that bright hue version that almost pierces the eyes.]
Eric chuckled at that. “Of course. The same as your scales. Does that match up all the time?”
[Creator above, no. My nest-brother, Andedromos, was a deep red, and yet his favorite color was brown.]
Eric saw the sun begin to rise up behind Elyndor, and felt a weird flush of energy in his chest. He was going to ask what that was, but Indedroma answered before he could.
[It is morning, and it is time for you to wake once more. Do you mind me pulling you here occasionally during your sleep? I . . . I actually want you to know me, since I intend on having you protect Elyndor eternally.]
“Sure, but can you bring Misty, too? If she’s going to be around, she should be here to get to know you as well.”
[Once she obtains a primal force, yes. Otherwise, the level nine-hundred restriction remains.]
“Alright. Thanks, Indedroma.” Eric’s vision was scoured with a brilliant yellow-gold of the rising sun, and as he blinked his eyes against it, he opened them and saw the ceiling of his bedroom. There was no light coming through the window, as the snow forced all to become a deep grey color. He rolled over and snuggled up behind Misty, giving her a kiss on the neck. “Hey, sweetie. Wake up.”
Misty roused a moment later and reached a hand back to grab his leg. “What time is it?”
Eric looked at the clock standing upright next to the door. “It is mid-morning. I think we overdid it last night. I’m going to bathe. Want to join me?”
Misty shook her head and pushed it into the pillows. “I’ll go after you.”
***
After a hearty breakfast, Misty went to call on a servant to prepare a carriage, and Eric texted Naomi on his bracer as to her whereabouts. Once he had confirmed her location, he went to her workshop, and then descended down the now-unlocked trapdoor.
The basement level was huge: Eric descended down the ladder which was surrounded by metal rings for safety as he took in the massive, one-hundred-foot-cubed room. “This is what you’ve been working on?” he asked.
Naomi called up, and her voice echoed a bit thanks to the space. “James has a Class, Architect, which allows him to do wonders with construction. Just him and I—and you—know about this place.”
Eric finished his descent and stepped onto perfectly smooth and even floor as he finished taking in the space. Along one wall, steel pipes with glass windows showed raw mana being piped up to the workshop above, the blue-purple gasses rising in intricate swirls. Connected via more pipes were larger workshop benches with all manner of power tools, all seeming to be working at their own pace, of their own volition. Naomi’s sci-fi-esque power armor from her Skill was standing on a mannequin, and she was sitting in a chair facing it as her hands sparked with light-blue electricity.
Behind him, along a wall and inside of a metal cage, were glass tubes that could hold a person’s body, and they were filled with a thick, purplish fluid. But, Eric couldn’t see anything else within. “What are you up to down here?” he asked.
Naomi, back to him, replied, “It’s just my real workshop. The one upstairs was temporary, or for entertaining guests like James’ father or your father-in-law.”
Eric walked over to the cage with the tubes. There were twenty of them. “Quite a lot of tubes. Shouldn’t you just need eight?”
Naomi got off her chair and walked over next to him. “Better safe than sorry. I also wanted to dabble in the idea of transhumanism—I learned from The Paths that there are things called phylacteries, you know, how liches back in our world’s fiction could store their souls—and you can implant those into objects.”
Eric looked back at her. “So you want to body hop?”
Naomi grinned. “Like in Altered Carbon, yes. Ideally, eventually, I get a magic version of a cortical stack installed. A phylactery as a Body Enhancement, but using your ability to cage a soul, well, during the construction process, we should be able to make it happen. Then, you don’t need to actively use your Skill to save us—we just have to have Sigils available for the contingent ability to activate, and then someone comes and rescues us.” She put a hand to her chin. “Unless I can also set up a contingent teleportation, but I’d need someone with that Skill to help in the making.” She shrugged. She then pointed across the room, to a darkened corner. “My robot body idea is going to take a lot more Components, sadly. Microprocessors and servos are a bitch to make in post-medieval society.”
Eric was completely gobsmacked and unsure what to say. Naomi had figured out so much, in such a short time, and it was going far faster than in the now-extinct future timeline.
This is incredible, he thought, but also very dangerous. If the knowledge got into the wrong hands—
Indedroma’s words cut through his thoughts.
[Do not worry: only the holder of the Makerspark can make these items, and access the blueprints within The Paths.]
That brought Eric some relief. Naomi said, “Anyways, what did you want to talk about?”
“I just wanted to see what Indedroma told me about. You don’t have any cloning active yet, do you?”
Naomi shook her head. “I talked to Misty a bit, and she’s going to check her family archives during your visit today and look into anything about in-vitro fertilization and the like. Maybe we can do this the sci-fi way with growing a body and just nuking the consciousness, instead of waiting for a Class-based way to fall into our laps.”
Eric didn’t want to consider or ponder the ethical implications of making bodies and destroying the nascent consciousness within. “Ah, alright,” he muttered. “Well then, thanks for indulging my curiosity.” He scanned across the room and saw a large lump covered with a tarp. “What’s that?”
Naomi followed his gaze. “Mana generator. It . . .” her monotone voice dropped into a bit more personality-filled one as she said, “It just won’t fucking work. Maybe the intake manifold is the wrong size. I’m still tinkering.”
“Alright then. I’m going to head out to Misty’s—well, I guess my family estate. Wish me luck on finding Scrolls or Tomes!”
Naomi put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed, gave him a terse nod, then went back to her chair and grabbed some tool. Her hands sparked as she went to her armor once more, and Eric ascended the ladder and departed the workshop.
He went to the lounge and found Misty sitting patiently, reading a book. She looked up as he entered. “Carriage on its way?” he asked.
She nodded and patted the couch next to her. When he sat down, she threw her legs over his lap. “This was the place where I snared your heart,” she said, a sly grin on her face as she failed to hide it behind her book.
Eric massaged her calf and nodded. “Very true. Bringing good memories?”
Misty looked over her book and that grin remained in place as she said, “Very good. But I think we’ve made better memories since.”
Eric couldn’t agree more.
***
The Baxter Estate was covered in a light dusting of snow, though the stone paths were kept clear of the falling white powder, whilst the rest of the estate was left to be consumed by the encroaching winter weather. There were students going to and from lecture halls, and the carriage had to wait a few times for them to pass by. But, after a short delay, Eric helped Misty out of the conveyance in front of her family’s ancestral home.
Both were outfitted in thick coats, but Eric had all of his dungeon diving gear on underneath. After the person attempted to accost him in the street, he wasn’t going to take any chances. Plus, he wanted to project a specific visual—he would always be ready to serve the kingdom’s interests.
The heavy thunk and clatter of Heavy Knight Rickard’s armor was a constant reminder of the possible danger that they were in, and while Eric wasn’t concerned for himself because of his plethora of Body Enhancements and armor, Misty was a whole different story. So when she went to the door and touched her key to open it, Eric was quite pleased to see Dawn, her assigned Spy, slip past her—not rudely, but just rapidly and out of necessity—to clear the inner vestibule.
“You’re good,” she said as she stood aside to permit Misty and Eric access, and Rickard took up a position outside, despite the snow falling down on him.
Misty walked in and cleared her throat. “We should have some help here.”
There was a crashing noise from the direction of the kitchens, and then two servants appeared, uttering apologies and taking coats from the duo. When they tried to take Dawn’s, she held a hand out and said, “No, thanks. I want to keep it on me.”
Misty grabbed Eric’s hand and led him to the central chamber, and Eric waved as his father-in-law and the new Steward, Marley Baxter, stood up from his desk next to a heatstone pit. “Ah, there’s my daughter and her husband,” the man said with a broad smile and mirth.
Misty let Eric’s hand go and gave her father a hug. “It is good to see you.”
Marley looked past Misty and at Eric. “How is the house? Socializing with the other old-blood kin?”
“Yes, we are getting along well,” Eric replied. “In fact we were up late last night playing a new game. The process of connecting the old-blood together through friendship is going well.”
Misty pulled away from her father. “Please, politics?”
“Daughter, it is part of my job now,” Marley replied as he held her hands. “Now then, you wanted to visit with a few questions, yes? Come, sit. Reggie?! Drinks!”
Eric heard a servant go skittering off, and then spotted Dawn take a seat at the edge of the room.
That seemed to catch Marley’s attention, and he began to speak, but Dawn interrupted him, saying, “Misty’s bodyguard.”
“Ah,” Marley replied, face losing some of its mirth. “One of Persim’s?” Dawn nodded, and Marley looked back to Misty. “You’re staying safe, yes?”
“Very much,” Misty replied. “I have a Heavy Knight assigned as well. I’m surprised you don’t have bodyguards, father.”
Marley gestured for her and Eric to sit opposite his desk. As the duo did so, the older man said, “I do, but they’re well-hidden.” He gestured to where Dawn was sitting. Eric looked over, and to his surprise, saw two men who looked like servants and were chatting with her. “I am surrounded by more security than I’d like,” Marley continued as he grabbed a pen. “Anyways, I have you to thank, Eric, for arranging some conversations with your ally Naomi. Thanks to her and the Marshall family, plans for this rail system of hers are well underway. The smiths were quite confused until she brought in a scale model for them to reference.”
Eric dipped his head. “Happy to help the kingdom in any way I can. That’s actually why I’m here. Well, one of the reasons.” He grabbed Misty’s hand and gave it a squeeze, looked at her, and said, “Go on.”
Misty took in a deep breath and said, “Father, I’d like to acquire more Body Enhancements of a higher Tier.” Marley began to open his mouth, but Misty held up her other finger and continued before he could interrupt. “I am married to a Summoned, now, and knight-errant no less. There will be targets placed upon me, and I want to be as protected as possible.”
Marley sat back in his chair, eyes narrowing and lips pursing. He sat like that for a good five seconds before nodding. “I cannot agree more. Very well. What were you thinking of?”
Misty pulled a slip of paper from her inner breast pocket and handed it to him. Marley scanned down it and nodded. “We can do all of this today if I grab Surgeon Gherard after his lecture. Do you want to do it all today?” he asked.
“Yes,” Misty replied, clutching Eric’s hand. “Eric will be here, too. You know that he came from a medical background in his prior home, and now he has a powerful healing Rote.”
The servant came over with drinks and poured out wine for Misty, beer for Marley, and cider for Eric, then dipped his head and vanished back to the kitchens.
“Do you now?” Marley asked, raising an eyebrow as he set the slip down on his desk. “Well, you are welcome to watch, but I won’t have you participate. No offense, but I do not know what type of training you have had.”
Eric grinned at that. “If you have a cadaver, I can show you.”
“Now that would be interesting to see.” He then looked at Misty. “You said one of the reasons you were here was to ask about Body Enhancements. What’s the other reason?”
“Scrolls and Tomes,” Eric said. “I’m sure you know how Summoned interact with them.”
At that, Marley’s visage noticeably darkened. “Yes. You touch them, and they vanish forever. We have a massive library filled with Tomes and Scrolls . . . and while I love you as my son-in-law, that is a hefty price to pay. A single Tome has such value—more than money. You know that it is one of the only ways to acquire a Class without direct instruction, yes?”
“Yes, but surely you can part with a few Warden-type Scrolls,” Eric said, pouring as much pleading into his voice as he could. “Our diving group has no dedicated Warden. Peter can heal some, and he redirects damage aplenty, and I can heal as well, but we do not have any true area heal or rudimentary barriers.”
Marley let out a deep sigh and nodded. “Perhaps . . . one Scroll per Summoned . . . but only because you’re my son-in-law and knight-errant. Whatever you need, I’ll do my best to provide. Well, while you are here, would you also want Body Enhancement surgery to be performed?”
Eric let Misty’s hand go and tapped his bracer, reached into his Storage Dimension, and pulled out the Body Enhancements he still had but didn’t intend to use. “I have some donations. Longears, Umral Eyedrops, Air Sprite Alveoli, and Mana Veins. I would like to see about something else that you’d be willing to part with.”
Marley grinned and grabbed the jar with the slightly-pointed, fleshy nubs of Longears. “This is valuable, and I was going to commission a set for myself, given that there are so many people I need to listen to, now.” He set the jar down. “You have what, currently?”
“Neversick Slime, Mana Skin, Mana Muscles, and the Tarrasque Nervous System—which, I must say, has been incredibly valuable.”
Misty reached for his hand and squeezed again. “I’d like to get his bones infused.”
Marley shot his gaze to her and his eyes went wide. “That is . . . that is a very intensive surgery.” He looked back to Eric. “We have a Body Enhancement called Steelbone Infusion. It takes Leysteel, powders it via an intensive process, and then we have to cut open the entire body and paint the whole skeletal structure.”
“Misty told me about the whole ordeal,” Eric said. “I can use another two Body Enhancements before my Loadout would be affected. I think the defensive augmentation is worthwhile.”
“Very well,” Marley said. “We’ll get the operating theater set up, and after we look through the archives for Scrolls I am willing to part with permanently, then we’ll have a nice meal, and get you both prepped.”
He stood up, and Misty followed, with Eric in tow, as they went upstairs and headed to the library. Marley opened the door and the scent of must hit Eric’s nostrils as the scent of old parchment, vellum, and paper assaulted him. There were dozens of books on shelves, sorted by Profession-type or Warden-type, and Marley led the duo to a series of alcoves on the back wall, which were similarly labeled, but had rolled scrolls shoved into the slots.
“Here we are,” Marley said. “Now, you said Warden-type specifically?”
“Yes,” Eric replied. “Ideally, multi-person healing, or single-person, potent healing.”
Marley pulled a stool over and began rummaging, then after acquiring a total of twelve Scrolls, stepped down and took them to a nearby table. “Well, let’s go through each, shall we? I’ll explain what each does, and then you can decide what you want.”
Eric pored over the papers as Marley explained what each did. Each Scroll was several thousand words in length, described the ability in detail, and even provided a bevy of sample situations. Eric knew that for a normal Elyndian, they would have to study this like a textbook, and only once The Paths knew they understood it well enough, then they would acquire the ability.
For him, he could just touch it and consume it—hence why Scrolls and Tomes were so valuable and it would be a struggle for any Summoned to acquire them—aside from unsavory means. Thankfully, he could also look at his bracer and see what each did. He chose to go with a set of four that would complement each person’s build thus far.
-----
Rote:
Rejuvenate (Mender): The user designates any number of targets and grants them healing-over-time, restoring their health. The amount restored is lessened for each additional target. 500-foot range.
-----
Trait:
Health Pool 1 (Cleric): Whenever the user is healed by a magic-based source, and this healing goes over their maximum health, 10% of the excess goes into a pool that fades after 10 seconds. As the user suffers harm, this pool is automatically drained to heal the user.
-----
Skills:
Burst Heal 1 (Healing Mage): The user heals all targets they designate as allies within range for 10% of their health. 30-foot spherical burst centered on a designated point within 100-foot range.
-----
Ideally, he thought, we give the Burst Heal to Naomi, since she is a mid-liner. Shannon the Rejuvenate, since it has farther range and she is a ranged damage-dealer, and Peter gets Health Pool, since it will function off of my redirected healing and his Skill-based full-health restore.
Then, Eric looked at the one he had chosen for himself from the offered selection. It was a toggled Rote, and one that he planned to integrate into his Blacksteel Mending via Polymerization.
-----
Rote:
Diagnose (Healing Mage): The user can look at any target and see what ailments, injuries, or other maladies they are suffering from. If they lack the knowledge of what is occurring, then an indication of something being wrong will be triggered. If the user administers any healing Rote or Skill after viewing an injured target with Diagnose, the health restored is increased by 50%.
-----
Eric put the three Scrolls for the others away, and then held the Scroll for Diagnose in his hand.
Hello, old friend, he thought. It has been a while since I have had you. Indedroma, how does this work? I never did this in my prior timeline.
[Just like this.]
The Scroll which had been in his palm incinerated in a burst of Blackflame, and Eric knew he had it available.
Marley let out a gasp, then sighed. “I knew that you would consume it, but still, the loss of knowledge is painful.”
“Why?” Misty asked. “That was a simple Rote. Most people I know in our industry have it. I’m sure it’s in some of the Tomes.”
Marley looked at her with a critical, sharp eye. “This was a Warden-type version of the Rote. We don’t have Tomes with Warden Classes, just Scrolls.”
“Why is that?” Eric asked as he turned to face his father-in-law.
“Most combat Classes do not live long enough to—or see enough value in—writing a Tome. It takes such a long time, comparatively, for a combat Class, versus a profession Class.” Marley sighed. “Well, onto surgeries then, I suppose. We’ll need to wait until my colleagues lecture is done, then I can bring him in.”
“In the meantime,” Eric said, “I can show you my prowess with a scalpel on a cadaver, if you want.”
Marley chuckled at that. “I’m quite happy Misty fell for you, and not Peter. I doubt that young man had your background. Come, we have several to practice on in a morgue nearby.”
As Marley led them outside, Eric thought to Indedroma, Okay, time to Polymerize. Let’s get those two Rotes combined.
[Confirmed. Polymerization of Rotes initiated.]
[Parameter check: both Rotes are of the same Rank? Non-applicable.]
[Parameter check: both Rotes are of the same Enhancement? Non-applicable.]
[Applying . . .]
-----
Rote:
Blacksteel Healing: The user designates a target within range, and can either sacrifice their health or mana to heal the target. The amount restored is a 1-to-1.5 ratio for sacrificed health, or a 0.5-to-1.5 ratio for sacrificed mana. 500-foot range. Ambient mana around the target is infused into them, halving their mana expenditure to receive the heal. If this Rote does not heal something afflicting the target, the user will be notified of the malady remaining.
-----
Huh. Neat. A flat fifty-percent increase to the healing provided, Eric thought. That’s going to be incredibly useful. Knowing when things are not-cured will be helpful as well, but losing the ‘look at it and know what’s wrong’ part kind of sucks.
[That is a potent power increase.]
Eric made his way through the snow-covered paths and followed Marley into a building, with Misty close behind. They went down to a chilly morgue, where several cadavers were waiting on slabs.
Marley gestured to the nearby white-cloth robes and surgical tools laid out. “Time to see what you can do.”
Eric and Misty spent a few hours performing mock operations on the deceased, who through a Skill Marley had was able to be reanimated—minus the mind and soul, of course, which Eric doubted the man even knew about—but the effect was akin to operating on an anesthetized subject. There was even a nearby pump to push red-colored water into the circulatory system to replicate blood flow during a surgery.
The activity brought Eric back to his prior timeline, where he was learning these techniques and this information from the Baxter Institution’s professors. He was, after all, just an eighteen-year-old hospital volunteer back then. But now? He was probably the most skilled surgeon on Elyndor, given that he could draw on all of his future timeline knowledge.
“Impressive,” Marley said as Eric finished stitching the corpse up. “You must have been a very good student in your time.”
Eric wiped his forehead with a clean cloth. Despite the cool of the morgue, he was still hot from the activity and focus required. “Yeah, well, I did help people. So, have I convinced you enough to help with Misty’s surgery?”
Marley looked at Misty, who was wiping the fake blood off of her gloves. “It is up to you, sweetie. He can be my assistant if you want to get right into the Body Enhancement without waiting for lectures to end today.”
Misty pulled the gloves off and grabbed Eric’s arm. “Let’s go ahead and get to it.”
***
Misty’s operation to install Neversick Slime took ten minutes, and Eric used a Blacksteel Healing to mend her right after it was done.
Then, it was his turn on the slab for the skeleton-pain treatment. Misty was acting as her father’s assistant, and Eric went through the familiar feeling of still-awake, full-body anesthesia without any pain. Unlike with the Tarrasque Nervous System, he wasn’t having his spine removed—just painted onto.
When the operation had concluded, and Eric was sewn up, he used another Blacksteel Healing to fully fix himself. His body felt sturdier, and as he stood up from the operating table and Misty helped him get dressed, he could feel that he had put on a few pounds of weight.
Once her father was gone from the room, Misty lewdly commented, “With the new weight, I might have to be on top more.”
Eric cracked a smile at her remark. “Anything you want.”
***
After saying their farewells and returning to the Summoned estate for dinner, Eric gave everyone their Scrolls.
Naomi took hers, integrated it, and said, “I’m going to leave this as-is. I don’t have much use for Sigils in a dungeon during combat, anyways, so this will give me something to do.”
Shannon grabbed hers, read it over, and then let out a squeal of delight. “Oh my God! I have the best idea! I’m going to Polymerize it with my Ammunition Cycler Rote, so I can shoot you all with non-harmful mana bolts and get more range!”
“Hmm,” Peter said as he held his. “Seems really useful. I like this one. Thanks, Eric.”
“Dont’t just thank me,” Eric replied. “Thank Misty. She convinced her father.” He stood up and gave Misty a little kiss. “I need to go to the citadel for a meeting with the Queen and the Allied Cities of Chisholm.”
At that, James—Naomi’s husband—smile vanished. “You’re attending?”
“I am,” Eric replied. “At her majesty’s request.”
James stood up. “Well, I was invited, too. Shall we go together?”
“I’m okay with that,” Eric replied.
“Wow, I’m missing out,” Shannon muttered.
Cecil added, “This must be that FOMO you told me about.”
Eric chuckled and waved for James to follow him as he went outside and got into a waiting carriage that had been sent for him. Naomi’s husband got on board, and then as the door shut and the conveyance moved, James cleared his throat.
“Look, Eric,” the man began, “I think that you are doing well in your efforts, but be cautious in this meeting.”
Eric looked out the window and nodded. “I know,” he softly replied. “There are people from Chisholm that are going to be quite pissed off that we destroyed their slave, drug, and other nefarious network items.” He looked at James. “Why were you invited, I wonder?”
James grimaced and replied, “I have a feeling that it is because her highness is preparing a subordinate role under the Steward. Head Architect.”
“And it wouldn’t go to your mother, Andedroma?” Eric asked.
“She is getting on in years,” James replied. “And I am the firstborn heir. I’ll probably be assigned a seat just behind your father-in-law.”
“Understood,” Eric replied. “Well, it is good to have you on board with everything.”
He knew that Naomi’s husband had been informed—as had Cecil Valagonia, Isabella Ghulara, and Benson—about specific details regarding the impending war and Eric’s visions. Information about the Titan had been kept secret, thankfully. As the carriage pulled up to the front entrance of the citadel, and Eric got out, he took in a deep breath of the chilly air.
“Let us hope they aren’t too upset,” James said as he stepped down. “Especially at you, since you were one of the major causes of their losses.”
“I hope you’re right,” Eric replied as he walked into the citadel.