Forged Legacy

Chapter 130 - Plans and Purchases

Cash offered to take all three of them to Elysium, the heart of heaven and capital city, where the commander constructed his armies, but Tyler and Steve declined. They were both shaken up after seeing war firsthand, and their gory albeit minor injuries weren’t helping Harvey’s goal of training them to become elite warriors.

“I’ll be back soon,” Harvey said. “Tell Mom and Eleanor not to worry about me.”

“I’m gonna try to keep things vague. None of us want to see what happens if she learns her son got blasted by a hell-dragon,” Steve chuckled.

Harvey winced. He’d hoped taking them to the front lines would shock them into action, but he might’ve paralyzed them instead. Even his brother, who’d apparently been railing against the angel’s stifling education for weeks, was subdued.

“I mean… it’d probably be pretty funny. I wouldn’t mind seeing the look on her face as long as I could hide behind some bulletproof glass,” Harvey said.

“Thick bulletproof glass,” Tyler groaned. “Double-layered. The kind they have at Police stations.”

“Hey! You two be nice to your mother! You’re lucky to have one who cares so much about her boys!”

Safely inside the house, they turned to walk away. Harvey expected Cash to lead them out of the neighborhood, but the angel made a beeline for the same church where he’d created his skill.

“Can we just buy holy silver from the mirror?” Harvey asked.

“John’s mirrors? No. We’re going to use their teleporter,” Cash said.

“Teleporter?” Harvey gasped.

“You thought we were going to walk?” Cash laughed.

Silent prayers had echoed in the recesses of Harvey’s heart ever since they were forced to trek through the wilderness to reach the Veilstrider fortress back in his own trial. If magic grenades and exploding crystal arrows were real, who was to say teleportation couldn’t exist? He’d hoped a teleporter would appear to help them escort the young and elderly to the portal inside the heart of the necrolord camp, but the System had provided an alternative when his Imprint became the key to unlock the one originally intended to be used as the Ossari’s gate to Earth. The fact that portals like that existed at all proved it was possible, but he was even more excited to learn that even F Grade ascendants could create them.

Rounding the corner, he was surprised to see a small horde of teenage boys armed with lawnmowers, weed whackers, and hedge trimmers. The smell of two-stroke gasoline and freshly cut grass filled the air as machines roared to life.

“You’re having the kids cut the grass less than an hour after an attack?” Harvey asked.

“Keeps them out of trouble,” Cash shrugged. “We try to make sure there are chores to be done whenever a little mischief could get dangerous.”

[You’ll understand when you have kids.] Julius acknowledged, somehow expressing an approving nod despite being an inanimate consciousness sharing Harvey’s skull.

“Dangerous? Hell’s army should be dealt with by now.”

“There’s always stragglers. When it’s clear neither side has much more to gain from the attack, they usually retreat in hopes that the survivors can reinforce the next wave. We send roving squads to try and clear out the stragglers, but curious teenage boys getting themselves killed sneaking out isn’t unheard of.”

“Is that why you brought a bunch of humans into the city? You’re a part of a cleanup crew?” Harvey asked.

“Was. Celeste put me on leave after I complained about those traitors,” Cash hissed. “But that’s fine. Gives me some time to help you.”

Harvey froze in the doorway, getting an angry glare from the pair he’d passed earlier for letting the air conditioning out. “Wait. She punished you? For choosing to fight instead of running away?”

“Yup,” he complained, pulling Harvey inside.

“Maybe we should pay her a visit.”

Cash just laughed, nodding to the two angels before leading him down a hallway. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re strong, but she’d smite you down without breaking a sweat.”

“Then where was she when the dragon showed up?” Harvey asked.

“Protecting an infernal node. Celeste is a lieutenant, and things would get a lot worse if she died.”

Harvey didn’t say anything, wondering if he’d made the right choice with his quest. The System said he had three days to choose between Heaven and Hell. At first, it seemed obvious, but so far every angel besides Cash had left a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe it was just because of the knife at their throats, but he doubted it.

Who am I kidding? My family wouldn’t switch sides no matter what I said.

[It's too late anyway. I checked the quest screen, and it looks like fighting alongside the angels locked you in.]

Cash placed his hand on a stone sigil beside a heavy door, and he heard a lock click as a gentle glow entered the inscribed rune. Inside was another hallway. Exquisite paintings adorned the walls, and open doorways led to sitting areas with velvet-covered stools and heavy wooden tables. He felt like a student getting a glimpse of the teacher’s lounge, and said nothing as they passed a dozen more of the 8-foot-tall models that could’ve been pulled straight out of a Hallmark movie if not for their feathery wings.

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Eventually, they reached a small room where a solitary arch of heavy steel stood alone atop a granite pedestal. Smooth glass filled the arch, creating a window of lazily drifting fog that resembled gentle storm clouds.

“The portal?” Harvey asked.

“Reach out with your aura, and select the Elysium Trade Hall when the screen pops up,” Cash instructed.

Harvey smiled when infusing a tendril of his Will into the window brought up the screen, and he marvelled as fog was replaced with a bustling market. It was strange, the room was deathly silent, but he could see craftsmen and merchants shouting their wares on the other end as clearly as if they were standing a few feet away.

[It’s like watching TV on mute!]

“Just step in?” Harvey asked.

“I should probably go first. They might get weird if they see a human show up alone.”

The arch was at least 15 feet tall and wide enough for multiple angels to walk through together, allowing Cash to stride right through. Harvey followed close behind, turning sideways and stopping in the middle.

“What are you doing?”

“This is wild! It’s like I got split in half! Sound, heat, smells… each side of me is feeling something different!” Harvey marveled.

“Get out of the way! Other people need to use the portal!” Cash laughed.

“Oops!” Harvey was too caught up in the strange sensation, not noticing a trio glaring at him from the front of a long line leading back to the window. Lurching into the street, he saw the view on the other side of the glass change over and over as one angel after another left the busy market.

“How much merit are you looking to spend?” Cash shouted, stooping down to Harvey’s ear.

“I don’t know! As much as I need to forge some armor for us, some guns, and a bit extra for other experiments?”

“Three sets of blessed silver armor are already expensive,” Cash said.

“Four!” Harvey corrected. “I was planning on a set for you, too! Unless there’s a reason you only wear that robe.”

“What? You don’t have to do that!”

“I can’t train them alone. If you really do have some time on your hands now, I was hoping you could help me with my family and any other humans looking to join the fight.”

Cash didn’t say anything, indicating to Harvey to stop talking. They weaved through the busy street until they reached a quiet alley a few hundred meters from the teleporter.

“Be careful. Some of the other angels won’t like it if they hear you’re trying to pull the Faithful out of our training program,” Cash warned.

“The program that’s moving so slowly, we’ll all be dead before any of us are useful?” Harvey asked.

“Us? You’re not a human anymore. You’re gilded.”

“Who cares?” Harvey scoffed.

“Everyone but you. Listen, the fact that you’re not an angel, demon, or human means you're special. Outside the normal rules of this place. That makes it easy for me to take you with me without people asking questions, but that’s gonna change if you try and build an army.”

“I’m not building an army, I’m trying to reinforce yours before everything falls apart!”

“I know… but,” Cash hesitated.

“Listen, my family is non-negotiable, but I’ll hold back if any more than that is going to create problems for you. If you’re willing, I’d love to have your help training them to be useful. Consider a new set of armor as payment.”

“Can you even afford it?”

“Is around 300,000 merit enough?” Harvey asked.

“300,000? You’re kidding!” Cash laughed.

“No?”

“Just how many undead did you kill?”

“A lot,” Harvey smiled.

“Alright, fine. I still have my duties in the hospital, but I’ll help you out in my free time. And, I’ll make sure nobody makes a fuss about you joining the daily battles once you’re ready to go.”

“Perfect,” Harvey smiled, reaching out to shake Cash’s hand.

It didn’t take long for them to find the store Cash was looking for. With spatial storage, a shopkeeper didn’t need massive buildings to house and display their wares. As long as they had enough space for a few enticing offerings to draw customers in, they only needed a desk or two where people could peruse their catalog and haggle over price.

“Alistair?” Cash called, and a muscular angel wearing a leather apron appeared from a doorway. Sweat and soot covered his skin, and a few of his feathers had been singed around the edges.

“Cash! So great to see you,” he boisterously laughed, weaving around the tables to pull him into a sweaty hug.

“We’re not interrupting a forge, are we?” Harvey asked.

“Nope! It’s set to temper, so I’ve got some time. You a blacksmith, gilded?”

“I am. I also do my own inscriptions if you’ve got anything with strong resonances for sale,” Harvey confirmed.

“I may have a few things, but you’re probably better off visiting one of the inscriptionists. A jack of all trades is master of none after all,” Alistair winked.

“We’re looking for enough blessed silver to make full platemail for him, myself, and two human males,” Cash began.

“And around the same amount for various weapons and other projects,” Harvey interjected.

“Other projects?” Alistair hesitated.

“He wants to make a…”

“I want to make a gun,” they said in unison.

“Why not just buy one?” Alistair laughed.

“My skills only work with equipment I’ve created,” Harvey explained.

“That much material’s gonna cost you.”

They left the store 30 minutes later, having turned 150,000 merit into a hill of silver, a pile of gold, and a chunk of dense metal called Aethersteel. It was a pale silver with faint golden veins that only formed around the foundries where divine essence was consecrated into creatures like the lions and giants he’d seen before. Their creation left byproducts that soaked into the ground, infusing the metal with some of the latent power of the newly born warbeasts. That chunk alone had cost him 70,000 merit, but he hoped the extravagant cost would be worth it when he had a gun that would hold up under the stress of all the intricate bullets he’d create.

Next, they visited an inscriptionist who sold everything from holy water to demon wings. Apparently, the creatures born from divine and internal essence didn’t dissipate when they died, meaning their bodies could be harvested for unique crafting materials. Harvey decided to buy an array of fangs, manes, furs, and bones to test what kind of resonances he could use for his latest batch of inks. So far, he’d only worked with relatively pure materials. The bodies of elementals were very homogenous by their very nature, and health potions were nothing more than pure healing resonance distilled by an alchemist. Mixing in ingredients that were less pure would help him create some unique effects, infusing his inks and arrays with the will of a divine lion instead of pure divinity.

Once his pockets were another 50,000 merit lighter, they visited a gunsmith who reluctantly agreed to sell Harvey the blueprints he’d need to build his own weapon once he agreed to pay double the cost of buying one and promised never to sell his own creations on the open market.

“What caliber were you looking for?” the gunsmith asked.

“The biggest you can fit in a handgun,” Harvey said.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cash interjected. “You can’t just think about firepower. You have to think about how many rounds fit in the magazine.”

“I’d be happy even if it only fit one,” Harvey said. “I’m still not 100% sure how it will work yet, but I have a skill that lets me conjure replicas of anything I’ve ever crafted. I’m hoping I can conjure them straight into the gun, but even if I can’t, I’d rather have room for larger, inscribed ammunition.”

Hearing that elicited genuine interest from the smith. “I don’t have anything that fits a single round, but what about a revolver that fits .50-cal’s?”

[Now we’re speaking my language!]

With blueprints, bullets, and a few barrels of gunpowder infused with ground-up demon feathers in hand, Cash led Harvey back to the teleporter. There was a line of around 100 angels, but it moved fast without idiots like Harvey gunking things up by standing in the middle.

“Welp, I’m flat broke again!” Harvey smiled.

“You don’t seem too broken up about it,” Cash laughed.

“No, I am not,” Harvey chuckled. It was finally time to get back in the forge.