Accidental Reaver

Chapter 219 - 218: An Elf's Offer

Green-tinted bath waters swirled around medicinal herbs, gems, and dust. Remnant images from the inheritance fiasco tumbled about in Luke's mind. The waters did little to assuage the mental confusion, but did wonders for the fatigue plaguing the soul. Black lotus blooms swiveled in horizontal patterns. Sooty picked at the Reaver's slick black hair, snapping at him if he pulled away.

This marble-laden underground bathhouse—some floors down in the Defiers spiraling tower—lit itself by means of mana line enchantment. The faint blue glow set well against the green waters. Xera swished and splashed about in a corner, making use of her newfound mobility. Taking this time as good as any, Luke started to sort out the list of changes during and after the Tide, starting with the excitable sword wand.

[Xera, The Sword-Wand]

Quality: Exceptional

Level: 53

Stats: +160 physical damage, +160 magic damage

Passive - Essence Affinity: Casting Essence Bond on Xera incurs no cooldown or Essence cost.

Essence Resonance: Xera responds perfectly to your manipulation of essence. Through essence flow, Xera may rotate, spin, cast, cycle, or fly in the air as you will her. If separated from you, Xera can manipulate herself. The connection between you two allows for previously impossible flexibility. The Sword Wand orbits you, and returns for its purpose. Resonance amplifies the connection, bringing additional benefits to the Essence Bond enchantment when applied to Xera.

Active - Enhanced Form Shift: Use 1 Essence to shift between sword and wand forms. 1-second cooldown.

Passive - Essence Theft: Each swing has a 8% chance to stat steal from the target. This includes spells channeled through the Sword-Wand.

Sword Form: Grants an additional +50 physical damage on hit and a natural 30% armor penetration.

Wand Form: Essence spells are 20% more effective.

Passive - Ruinous Echo: After shifting to wand form, the first offensive spell releases an echo of ruin that reduces the magic resistance of all affected targets by 20%. 30 second cooldown.

Requirements: Level 50, Essence Reaver Class

Soulbound to Luke.

Next Evolution: Prophecy Blood

A Sword Wand embracing the connection with her Reaver, achieving resonance, and a better sense of independence.

By far, the paradigm shift belonged to Essence Resonance, the new affix Xera earned after upgrading to Exceptional Quality. Enhanced properties to the Essence Bond enchantment. The ability to manipulate herself independently. She could act as her own fighter if it suited the situation. What he liked best was the flexibility upgrade. More often than not, the Reaver tended to underutilize agility in particular. After Essence Resonance, that disconnect lessened considerably. Other than changes from Essence Resonance, the form shift reduced to one second, and other general upgrades forged Xera into a weapon worth part of a city.

Plop. A deep displacement of water stole back Luke's attention. Across from him, on the other end of the huge steaming bathhouse pool, Iona settled in, wrapped in a beige-tinted towel. Lulu strutted around the edges of the pool, dipping a talon in, before snatching it back. Leaning back into the wet edges of smoothed marble, Iona put her hair up. She teased Luke for starting a little too intently.

"Like what you see? Should I loosen up the towel?"

Coughing, the man smoothed it over—unashamed. "Yes, I do. But I'm not animalistic enough to throw away inhibition. Are we here to tease each other? The glint in your eye says there's more on the agenda."

"Pah, grown bold, have you? I'll let it slide. The primary purpose is to get you up to speed in health and the changes around you. The bath should ease the strain you put on your soul. Whatever the Tower gave you exacerbated the underlying damage." She narrowed her blue eyes at him. "There's no wisps of elixir usage coming away from you. Aloysius' method?"

"You mean the Pupilless State?" Luke ventured a guess from Iona's assumption.

"That happy oaf does describe it that way. Yes, that would be it. Pressure upon the soul for overdrawing on techniques, and, by the reports, whatever that skull manifestation is. A Concept? The same one granted from the ascension you underwent?"

"The one and only. Concepts appear to be even less understood or used than techniques."

"They are, I don't have one. To my knowledge, in this city, you have four. Rather, had four people with an applicable understanding of Concepts. You are the fifth in Sylen."

Four faces appeared in his mind all at once, like an innate recognition encoded itself. A signature radiated from those people. Now with a Concept belonging to him, he groomed through any other matching signatures. With little to lose for it, Luke guessed aloud to Iona.

"Musai, Ophelia, Lorcan, and Morgana."

"Musai is an obvious one, the City Lord not much different. Glimpsed at the two heads of the Titled families while under their feet, did you? At the lake you so graciously used for that maniac duel? By nature, you're a handful."

"All according to plan."

Iona splashed water to hit Luke in the face across the distance. "You could learn to lie better. You planned none of that."

"What can I say? The powers that be like to shatter any actual plans on first contact."

"Then you should be well aware those 'powers' have shifted recently. It's the pattern for Sylen in every instance of the Tide. Hunters and the city government faction took the brunt of the damage thus far. Nobles weakened a modicum, while the underworld surged. The crafty scoundrels smuggled enough goods to last the next two years during the Tide, and all but own the Southern Quadrant."

"I did get a sense things changed in that section of Sylen the most. You said the hunters and other factions have taken a hit?"

Corners of her lips pulling downward, Iona nodded. "Eight in every ten hunters under tier 2 died, and a significant portion of the higher ascended—that being tier 2 and 3—perished as well. I don't have an exact head count on the number of tier 2 hunters or guards left. Tier 3 is small enough to know, however. Including us Defiers, nobles, the two tier 3 commanders under City Lord Cyrn, and the regular hunters, we have a mere thirty left."

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I'm sorry, did you say eighty percent of hunters under tier 2 died? What about the walls? The barrier?"

"The barrier changes nothing when in the path of a stray Divinity-infused blow from a Diplomat. It shatters apart, turning those in the nearest battlements into a corpse soon after. Even a tier 1 is little else than a meat sack in the face of such overwhelming might."

Pieces of the purpose behind the tactics displayed in the Tide fell into place. Logically detaching, he muttered. "Explains why the deployment concentrated nearly all tier 3 defenders and the majority of tier 2 hunters in the Central Front. Any Diplomat left alone would turn that eighty percent into one hundred percent."

"That's the crux of it. Moving on, the damage is done. It'll be years before our numbers swell back to their previous glory. As compensation, any listed veterans on the stele are pardoned of any possible border duty for the Duchy for the next two years. An easy gesture the Duchess signs as a long tradition. The leaders of the three great houses can't stop her from doing that much."

"Like throwing a dog a bone for rolling over as ordered." Luke furrowed, taking in deeper concentration. The mists started to roil above the healing water, fresh waves filtered through orb indents below.

Opening up his golden clasp, Wayfinder spoke. "Choices from years prior often twang with consequences to the present, lad. Careful when benefits attach to a position easily, the catch comes with a witch's vengeance."

Arching an eyebrow, Iona said. "Losing your inhibitions around me, Wayward Pathfinder?"

"Got a list of all the nicknames I earned over the millennia, elfy? Me shine only kept quiet for the lad's sake. With the seeds planted in the soul blossoming by the day, the lad could keep his hands on me, even if you fancied me for yourself."

"Yes, the fledgling I found in front of the Founding Four is nowhere to be seen. Luke is close to my equal, if not already. The texts about his…circumstances hint about the potential, but to witness it first hand is baffling."

"Aye, you and me both, two beastin', twirly haired, smooth skinned flutter eyes. Frosty here is going to outpace this wasteland soon. Assumin' his head stays attached to his neck."

"Could you possibly refer to me as Iona? I certainly do not flutter my eyes."

"If you remember my name is Wayfinder and none of that other nonsense you use to address me springs."

"Fair point, and note taken for the future." Shifting a tad, Iona refocused on Luke, causing a fresh water ripple to expand in the medicinal waters. "I gave you the barest rundown. In short, the number of hunters and guards is decimated, and the criminal underworld is on the rise again." The elf brought a thumb and side of her finger underneath her chin. "The City Lord, the Miels, and every high ranking Tower Team is insistent to meet you. So allow me to take first mover's advantage." She took out her sigil stone from a spatial bag carelessly lying nearby. Runes, mana lines, and brands flared to life. An Interface notice popped up.

[Do you wish to accept Iona Marwood's sigil connection? Y/N]

Luke accepted. Iona helped him on multiple occasions. Sharing a sigil connection simplified tracking her down, and vice versa. His connection list was pitifully small anyway, so far, Lilly, Veyri, and Iona. His hermit tendencies unveiled themselves in minor ways, even after inhabiting a new world. The Reaver's occupation on Ludus was a flash in the pan compared to the year of isolation on Earth.

"Accepted quickly, didn't you? Quite the ladies' man, I see."

"I can remove the connection if it bothers you."

"So quick to get a rise?" After a long, drawn-out sigh, Iona smothered the teasing. "Luke, you should join my Tower Team." She raised a hand to cut away any protests or justifications against doing so. "Listen, I think when you hear my entire argument, you'll come to agree."

Since he had little else to do, other than look at Interface log lines and soak in the water to soothe the soul strain, Luke humored Iona. He set his arms against the marble above him. Sooty got bored with Luke's hair and flew across the room, going off to perform bird shenanigans with Lulu again. They soon settled on a lion's head statue that spouted fresh water. The Reaver cracked a smirk at the sight.

"Roger that. Give me the brief."

At such unfamiliar terms, Iona pursed her lips. "Is that yes to listening?"

"Ingrained habits to death by meeting. You have my undivided attention. What has you so adamant to take me in?"

"Nobles maneuver, the City Lord is next, and you already are aware of how the underbelly views you." She winked at him. "Fun fact, the bounty on your head is twenty thousand gold."

"Oh joy. Popular in the worst way, as per the pattern."

"Doubts surrounding you went with the winds. At ninth, you secured yourself as the highest ranking person in Sylen without a Tower Team already. Our receptionist, Persephone, must be inundated with work, keeping all the invitations straight. In all your razing of the city thus far, a tiny minority knows what you actually are. And I'm among them."

"I didn't raze the city, just did some spring cleaning of Sooty stealers. Thankless work." A wave of medicinal energy warmed Luke's soul and body. He shuddered slightly. "Hadn't considered that, the particulars."

Uncrossing her arms, Iona flicked out a hand. An aura veil shut the entrance as a safety precaution. Iona dismissed any servers well prior to the conversation, but one couldn't be too careful. She pushed away a black lotus coming in too close, warding it to Luke's direction. The trickle of water bounced around in the room, with sound enclosed.

"We can cut the leaves away from the branch. Luke, unless you plan to climb the Tower entirely alone, a fool's errand, even for you, joining me is your best option. I can help cover if people question your public 'spell sword' identity. Many accept the crafted explanation about Sooty, but some of your abilities…"

"They hardly fit into the usual kit a spell sword has. I know. The Tower, will I… never mind."

"What else needs to be said? I captain the fourth ranked team, we usually comprise of companion classes, with an occasional exception. With me around, you'll get up to speed on the Tower's politics, internal floors, and other details in the best way."

"You said all the teams are interested in me now? Moniba's was the only one until recently."

Biting her lip, Iona admitted. "Yes, I did say that. Every team in the top five offered you an invitation."

"Including Aloysius? Who runs the top Tower Team? Why shouldn't I go with him? He knows what I am too, as does Annika. They're on the same team, aren't they?"

"True. But." Iona put a finger over her lips for faux silence. "Neither are the best at keeping secrets. Chances are, they will let something slip at one occasion or another. The more you're around them and others, the greater such a disaster may occur."

"In that vein, my best bet is to climb alone."

Or with Janeus, he's basically bound in loyalty as a Sinned.

"Luke. You are destined to get out of this city. You want speed. To get to the bottom of who exactly smuggled away your father. Climbing alone, leaving aside if it's wise to do or not, is absolutely going to be slower. Take another point, when you end up casting aside Sylen, I'll let you go without a fuss. Many of the other teams will apply terms of contract."

"Could break the terms."

"Not without a price you're better off avoiding."

She's done her research and advocates well for why this is probably the best deal fitted to my situation.

Thumbing the black lotus that reached his end, Luke halted the plant puck. "You drive a hard bargain. Let's do a dry run? I join in on an outing to the Tower, and feel out how I mesh with your team?" A flicker sparked in the back of his head. "Veyri might insist on joining you if she knows I'm spurning her team."

"She can come along, should she try to. Normally, I limit those without a companion, but a two-for-one package deal is something I can make an exception for."

"Just saying she might do so. She's been off lately. Maybe it's the shock of the Tide. Could swear she's shaken whenever glancing in my direction. Wasn't like that before between us. Veyri ended up saving my ass back in Orlan's Divide from an assassin. Seems like ages ago. During the Tide, I inadvertently prevented an Envoy from gnawing on her."

"Inadvertently? Would it not be intentional? I can't imagine interrupting an Envoy about to partake is an easy task."

"It's fuzzy, but during the state, I turned a different Envoy, a frost attributed one, into a titan cannonball. Next thing I know, I caught up, with Veyri and Janeus in the snow near a massacre, each about to be next."

Reminds me, did Elnora get a proper burial? Luke unconsciously gripped a hand tightly. For someone so kind to be so senselessly killed. I failed the people assigned to the Western Front.

"You shouldn't blame yourself, you know."

Looking up straight, Luke asked with his eyes instead of words.

"It's written all over your face. We all see premature death during a Tide. A member of my team died, the same follows for many who survived."

A veteran of other bloody battles in two different worlds, Luke accepted the empty words. Death of those you knew rarely came easy. Experience it often enough, and you develop the skill to accept it and function, subjugating any anguish associated with it.

Leaving the healing waters, the Reaver dressed in a soft set of black and yellow wool, with sturdy leather boots. Sooty settled on his shoulder, Whispering Tome put Wayfinder over his neck, and Xera orbited him.

"Is the serious stuff over with? I'm ready for some action."

"You'll get your fill again soon, Xera. Other things need to be sorted." Luke peered over his shoulder at Iona as he buttoned a black-gold overcoat. "When's the try-out, captain?"

Iona smiled demurely. "I'd prefer tomorrow. With all the threads surrounding you, that might be a stretch. If it works out, great. If not, the next day. Puts the rest of the team on stand by, be ready."

Stepping through the aura veil clamped over the exit, the Reaver started up the stairs. He gave a thumbs-up to show understanding. Yawning, he decided to swing by Persephone. She no doubt had the summons or burdens of others. He might as well sort it out. Better to know who wanted what than to ignore it all.

The devil you know. But the plague they don't.