By morning, the village was in turmoil. News of Frost's defeat had spread quickly, darkening the already grim atmosphere. Of the roughly one hundred warriors who had set out, only about a dozen had returned. Frost was among them, but the Pureblood was in poor condition. At least his life wasn’t in danger, which was more than could be said for most of the other survivors.
Zeke thought about offering his help, suspecting they had been poisoned, but ultimately decided against it. He didn’t have a strong enough position to reveal his abilities. An agitated crowd could easily turn dangerous, and he wasn’t willing to risk a witch hunt.
He sent out Ash again, trying to gather workers for the day. Now, more than ever, speed was of the essence, and he even authorized the man to procure a few extra hands, increasing the number of workers from ten to twenty.
He wouldn’t have to worry about food for a while, and the additional laborers wouldn’t work with his blood-forged tools but with the equipment they had pilfered the day before, not putting any additional burden on him. Zeke also avoided returning to their lodgings, choosing instead to lock himself in his office at the mine. With his guards occupied there, he didn’t want to risk staying alone at their old place. He didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks, especially now that his plan was almost ready to advance to the next stage.
He had assigned Ash to discreetly assess some of the workers he had gotten to know over the past few days. The rotation system had been designed partly to identify a broader pool of potential subordinates. Ash had noted those with the most promise and would soon approach a few of them for a more permanent arrangement. Zeke would meet with them only after they had proven themselves amenable to such an agreement.
But that was a worry for later.
Right now, he sat cross-legged on the floor, beads of sweat rolling down his brow. It was time for his second round of exposure therapy, and he was currently battling the effects of the Frostscale poison. Though still painful, the lethal substance had lost much of its sting compared to his first session. It was simply amazing how fast his body had adapted.
After about two hours, Zeke exhaled a final frosty breath, the last of the cold leaving his system. He was eager to test how much his cold resistance had improved but held back. It wasn’t time yet. He would go out at night when there were fewer eyes.
With nothing else to occupy him, Zeke connected to his beacon back home, taking significantly longer than yesterday to complete the process. Picking up such faint fluctuations from so far away was always a challenge, but he would manage. He idly wondered how much his senses would improve once he finally reached the level of Grand Mage.
However, such thoughts were wiped from his mind when he finally saw the distant space come into focus. His small beacon in Tradespire didn’t have much space, so the three gleaming vials immediately caught his attention.‘Finally,’ he thought, eagerly turning his attention to the glassware. After a few minutes, he held the items in his hand. They were finely crafted, clearly the work of an artisan, and each contained a different iridescent liquid. The mana within them marked them as more than ordinary. Each bottle had a label indicating its contents.
‘Winters Bite,’ the first one read. Akasha quickly informed him that it was a poison that paralyzed the nerves.
‘Cold’s Embrace’ was the name of the second one. It was a poison that would lull you into a sleep from which one would never awaken.
The last bottle was labeled ‘Frozen Touch.’ It was typically applied to a blade and was one of the few ways an ordinary soldier could defeat a Mage—even one up to the Grand Mage level, provided they could land a hit.
Zeke carefully set the bottles aside. Having already completed a session today, he would need a few days to recover before attempting another round of tempering. Feeling bored, he rifled through his pack and soon rediscovered two items he had almost forgotten.
The first one was the dwarfen tablet with the familiar inscriptions. He recalled the cube that remained in his room in Tradespire. It was one of the three greatest treasures of the Giger people, and he had yet to find a clue to its purpose. This familiar script was the first hint he had found in the years since.
Zeke studied the enigmatic lines but couldn’t make sense of them. He set the tablet aside, knowing he would need an expert to make any progress. He had never dared to show the cube to anyone, fearing its discovery, but the tablet was different. Since Akasha had already scanned the inscription, it held little value to him. If showing it to an expert might uncover even a small clue, he was willing to risk losing it.
The second item he retrieved from his pack was a garment. At the auction, it was claimed to contain Enchantments, which was unusual for regular clothing. While enchanted armor was relatively common, enchanting soft fabric was much more rare. Being something of an Enchanter himself, Zeke had immediately recognized the value of such a product.
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He had since discovered the method used to achieve this feat: thin metal threads were woven into the fabric to create the Enchantment. While he had initially been intrigued, he soon realized that this technique was not practical for mass production.
Firstly, the metal used was incredibly precious. Secondly, the technique to create such a marvel was difficult. Perhaps a highly skilled Metal Mage working with an expert weaver could reproduce it, but Zeke doubted he could convince an Archmage to take on such a task. Even if he did, the endeavor likely wouldn’t be profitable.
Akasha could likely do it as well, but it would take her days to finish a single piece of clothing. Zeke wasn’t willing to spend that much of his personal time for a chance to earn a bit of gold. Given the choice between time and money, he would always choose the latter.
He quickly wrote a letter detailing the origin and use of the two items before sending them to Tradespire. Hopefully, they would have better luck with them. When he opened his eyes after sending out the objects, Zeke noticed that he was no longer alone in the room.
Ash was standing by the door, patiently waiting for him.
“Did something happen?” Zeke asked, confused by the visit.
Ash shook his head. “The workers just left, and I was wondering if you wanted to inspect our progress.”
Zeke was surprised to see that it was already evening. How had the time slipped away so quickly? He stood up and followed Ash out of the office. As they toured the rooms, he saw how well the project was progressing. They were ahead of schedule, and if things continued smoothly, they might need only one more day to finish.
“How is the other project going,” Zeke asked after they finished the tour. Now that the project was nearing its end, it was all the more important that Ash got on with his task.
“I have a few candidates,” the Chimeroi replied, running his hand through his white beard. “All of them are former warriors who had to retire due to old injuries.”
Zeke was surprised. He had wanted to recruit people with combat experience but hadn’t expected Ash to find so many in such a short time.
Ash chuckled. “Do you think it’s strange, Master?” he asked with a knowing smile.
Zeke nodded. “I didn’t expect there to be this many warriors among the workers.”
“You’ve got it backward,” Ash said, adding to his confusion. “It’s not that there are many warriors among the workers. It’s that only those who can no longer be warriors choose to become workers.”
Zeke fell into deep thought as Ash continued, “This isn’t a human city, Master. Every man, woman, and child of the Tribe has the potential to become a warrior, and everyone aspires to that. Only those who no longer have hope of achieving that dream choose to become laborers. It’s not a glorious path.”
Zeke studied the former gladiator thoughtfully. “The residents of Undercity seemed content with the opportunities I provided,” he said.
“They were,” Ash replied, a small smile on his lips. “However, the people here are different. They have never known the kind of hardship and humiliation we faced in that place. They are still wild, their spirits unbroken.”
Zeke noticed the longing in Ash’s eyes and spoke gently. “It seems like you admire them.”
Ash sighed. “It’s hard to explain. It’s like something in my blood calls out, telling me this is the path I should have followed. If only I hadn’t been born in that place... I might have…” Ash’s words cut off, and Zeke chose to let the silence linger for a while.
“It’s not too late, you know?” Zeke said after a few moments.
“Too late for what?”
“To follow the right path,” Zeke stated. “You could remain here, in this village.”
Ash took a step back, shock evident on his face. “I would never betray you, Master!”
Zeke raised his palms in a calming gesture. “I understand, Ash. I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise.” Hearing this, the agitated Chimeroi finally settled down, allowing Zeke to clarify. “If the plant I need really grows on this mountain, I’ll need someone stationed here to ensure a steady supply.”
Ash finally grasped his meaning. “Me?”
Zeke shrugged. “Not long ago, you mentioned dreaming of having a family and a place to call home,” he said casually. “Just think about it, okay?”
After saying these words, Zeke departed, leaving the Chimeroi to his thoughts. Though It would hurt to lose such a capable subordinate, Zeke felt like he had done the right thing by offering him the choice. He wanted to be a man who inspired loyalty, somebody they would follow willingly. He felt like he had taken another step on that road today.
He returned to his room, intending to turn in for the night. However, before he could even make it halfway, he was intercepted by an unexpected person. Vulcanos was bounding down the corridor and came to a halt right in front of him.
“We have a visitor,” the big man said before Zeke could even ask.
“So? It’s far too late. Tell them to return tomorrow.”
However, Vulcanos shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“It’s Frost.”
Zeke, who was just about to take another step, froze in his tracks. Why had Snow’s brother come here? Shouldn’t he still be recovering from his wounds?
“Send Ash to deal with him. He acts as the leader, remember?”
Unexpectedly, the big man shook his head once more. “He asked to speak with you.”
Hearing this, Zeke’s expression turned grave. Frost should have no reason to search him out. Heck, the man shouldn’t even know who he was. They had only met twice, and Zeke had never spoken during those encounters. Was it possible that Frost wanted to expel him from the mountain?
“How many men did he bring,” Zeke asked gravely.
Vulcanos scratched his head. “Erm. He came alone.”
Zeke’s wariness turned to confusion. Frost was strong, yes, but not strong enough to face any two of his guards at the same time. It was highly unlikely that the man had come here to seek trouble. Otherwise, he would not have come alone.
After a moment of thought, Zeke made up his mind. “Bring him to my office,” he ordered. “Also, I want you to stay by my side during this meeting.” Vulcanos nodded sharply and turned to leave.
Zeke’s expression hardened as he mentally prepared for the upcoming confrontation.
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