‘Only Refined? What a scam…’
Percy would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little surprised. His Status had registered the Phantomscale Regalia as a Masterful spell, and the runework that had gone into his new cauldron was more than a couple steps beyond that.
Then again, it wasn’t completely unreasonable. His armour involved a few additional things, outside of its enchantments.
In any case, Percy wasn’t an expert in spell classification, but he was confident this latest addition was at the very top of the Refined tier, only a needle’s breadth away from its ceiling. Meanwhile, the Spiritforged Effigy had probably been lower than that, while his armour was likely at the very bottom of the next one.
‘I guess it doesn’t really matter what label the Status sticks on them… as long as they do what they’re supposed to. Besides, my eyes draw information from them all the same.’
Unlike alchemy, Percy didn’t have a dedicated section in his Status related to magiscript. This meant that his eyes only benefited from whatever enchantments he’d included in his spells. Even then, the contribution was minor, though still valuable. His eyes couldn’t help him draw the runes better, nor to visualize their effects more clearly, but they could help him indirectly.
Each rune consisted of features that had to be drawn precisely, without room for even the slightest deviation, as well as features that were more flexible, allowing them to be bent or twisted slightly. The latter were useful when one was trying to compose more intricated enchantments – involving multiple runes – as they made it easier for the symbols to be synthesized together.
Percy’s eyes did give him some feedback in that regard, allowing him to get a more instinctive understanding of which features were more rigid than others. His most recent entry had just added a few more enchantments to the list, which would make his life a little easier from now on.
Not that he was keen to experience the splitting headache associated with Ea’s Decree again, but the benefits he’d gained from Atlantis were undeniable.
And he wasn’t only thinking of magiscript either. Any new addition to his Status would likely enhance his eyes in all sorts of unpredictable ways. Plus, that was without even considering any other abilities that might come bundled with the next Decree he got his hands on.
Sadly, it didn’t seem that Metatron had a titan like that in his ranks. Percy had no idea how long it would be until he stumbled upon one on his own. His last fifteen or so clones certainly hadn’t brought anything interesting back, even though he’d made a point of sending them out one after the other for the past month.
The most recent one had returned while he was drawing the final enchantment on his cauldron, ruining his attempt and forcing him to start over. Had this been any other day, he would have already started preparing the next clone, but he had something else planned for today.
Pulling the curtain aside, Percy realized the sun was about to set. Taking his clothes off, he popped into the shower for a few minutes, before packing his things and leaving the inn.
‘Man, how long has it been since I left my room?’
Unlike Elaine and Nesha whose tasks forced them to travel all over the city – albeit each with a different level of caution – Percy had spent the whole month sitting on his ass, either brewing Aurora Dew for everyone, or working on the cauldron. He’d only left the place once or twice a week, to hand his companions their share of the elixirs, or to get more ingredients from Elaine.
Well, tonight he was planning to meet Nesha again, for an entirely different reason. And they were about to reach a level of intimacy they’d never experienced before during their relationship…
Over the next couple of hours, Percy made his way to the 44th district.
He passed several districts of both colours along the way, marvelling at the differences between them. It was easy to think of Twilight City as having just two types of districts, but that was an oversimplification.
If one paid closer attention, they’d quickly notice that even districts of the same colour came in all sorts of unique flavours, setting them apart from one another. Some white districts had cleaner streets, taller buildings and more carefully tended gardens. Others were in poorer condition, with smaller and older-looking houses.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
‘I guess the nicer ones are where the rich folk live…’
A similar dynamic was present in the black districts. All of them were rather lively right now, as it was getting a bit late. Still, there were some subtle differences between them. Some seemed home to “cleaner” fun – bars, restaurants and gambling dens. Others were full of hookers, drugs and all sorts of shady people up to no good.
In any case, Percy tried to travel mainly through the white districts, taking a bunch of inconvenient detours to avoid as much traffic as possible, still a bit shaken by his meeting with Clarity.
Eventually, he reached his destination.
It was a warehouse of medium size, sitting in some relatively quiet corner of the 44th district. It was a few stories tall, a Green-cored woman standing in front of the entrance alone, guarding it.
Percy casually strode forth, the guard moving aside to let him into the building.
Now that his new cauldron was ready, he hoped to start mass-producing the potions as early as tomorrow. Martina would be in charge of harvesting and delivering the mushrooms to Nesha, who would then hand them over to him. After all, neither Alexander nor his associates were supposed to learn of Percy or Nesha’s involvement in the operation. This was why they’d bothered to install a proxy in the first place.
But there was a reason Percy had visited the warehouse in person tonight. He was planning to do something that required utmost secrecy – something he’d rather avoid doing back in the inn.
Stepping into the warehouse, his gaze brushed over the countless green mushrooms growing on the carpet of spoilt meat, landing on the lone figure leaning on the opposite wall – another person who wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Was it difficult to get her hired?” he asked, walking towards her.
“Not really. Greens are highly sought after in this line of work.” Nesha replied.
They were naturally talking about Elaine. She was the person who was standing outside the warehouse – who’d just allowed Percy in. Unlike him and Nesha, his cousin wasn’t a fugitive yet, so they weren’t as wary of getting her involved in the operation. In fact, the benefits of getting her to guard the warehouse were numerous.
Other than having somebody they trusted to look after their stuff, Elaine would turn a blind eye whenever they needed to sneak into the warehouse to do something shady. Of course, she hadn’t quit her job at the water manifestation company. She still worked there during the day, though she’d made time to take some night shifts here.
“Have you talked to Martina about this?”
“Yeah. She knows we’ll take the mushrooms tonight, though she doesn’t know the reason. Well, it’s not like it matters to her, as long as we deliver on our promises.”
Alexander had no idea who the alchemist was, nor how high his brewing yield was. In fact, as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t a single alchemist, but a whole crew. After all, nobody on Remior knew about the scaling principle, nor could they guess that a single alchemist was capable of brewing as much as Percy was about to.
Needless to say, the Radiant Lord would never know if a fraction of the mushrooms went missing. Besides, the mushrooms themselves cost peanuts to grow, as Percy provided the spores, and Alexander only had to get them some trash to plant them on, and some labour to tend to them.
It wouldn’t be until Percy started brewing the ink and the magic potions that Alexander would have to invest money out of his own pocket. By then, they’d already be making a profit off the healing potions.
“How are things on your end?” Nesha asked, sounding a little nervous.
Percy didn’t blame her for it either. As much as she trusted him, he understood how much pressure she was currently under. She’d gone to great lengths to orchestrate every detail of their operation, but it would all come crashing down in an instant if he failed to do his part. Everything hinged on his ability to brew over a thousand doses of potions per day – something completely unheard of.
“Don’t worry. The cauldron is ready. I just need to wrap my mind around the scaling principle. My output should be up there by the end of the week.”
Exhaling in relief, she allowed herself to slide down the wall weakly, sitting on the ground.
“What’s the matter?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you’d be more excited about this. You’re the one who asked for it, remember?”
“I am. It’s just… I was thinking about what you said. You were right, you know...”
He tilted his head in confusion, prompting her to elaborate.
“Back then, you told me there wouldn’t be a point in giving me a second core unless I was willing to put in the work. The truth is, I have yet to make the most of my first core… Isn’t this a waste of time and elixir?”
Listening to her, Percy gave her an appraising look, comparing the hard-working woman in front of him with the lazy girl who’d followed him out of the Fungal Spire. He was keenly aware that she’d been training non-stop over the past two years, even if she hadn’t achieved all of her goals just yet.
Placing his hand on her shoulder, he gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Nesh– Ebony, I mean… I don’t think I’ve ever wasted a single drop of elixir on you. Every dose I ever gave you, you paid back for it in spades. I doubt I would have ever made it this far without your help. And I’m not just talking about your bloodline and your trading skills. I’d have probably died in the Grisly Bog if it wasn’t for you. So what if your combat spells could use a little work? You’ve already made faster progress than anyone else I know, and I’m sure you’ll get a hang of the new core too.”
Hearing him, some tears glistened by the corners of her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her face on his chest.
Percy hugged her back, having honestly missed spending time with her.
‘As soon as we rescue Micky, we’ll make up for the lost time.’ he promised himself.
The two remained locked in their embrace for a couple minutes, before Nesha let go.
“I’m ready.” she whispered.
Her voice was soft, but firm, her eyes burning with determination.
It was finally time to give Nesha her second core.