Chapter 271
Adventurers
Droney beeped.
Alexander opened his eyes. The room was small, dim, and smelled faintly of old straw. A narrow bed, a washstand, a window with shutters that didn’t quite close. Gray morning light crept through the gap.
He sat up and rubbed his face.
The night before had been mostly a waste. He’d downed a dozen meads trying to engage the locals in conversation through Droney, only to discover that the little drone’s grasp of the city’s language was far worse than expected.
The villagers and Lirum had all spoken more or less the same simple tongue. Droney had built a working dataset from those interactions, and while it was incomplete, the gaps were manageable.
The city was different. The people here spoke the same base language, but layered over it were at least two additional vocabularies that Droney couldn’t yet translate. Terms that sounded formal and clipped. Words that seemed borrowed from somewhere else entirely. The basics translated fine. Anything more complex came out garbled or wrong.
So Alexander had drunk and listened while Droney absorbed what it could. By the time he’d given up and headed upstairs, the mead had barely maintained a warmth in his chest. His enhanced physiology burned through it faster than he could drink it.
He stood, splashed water on his face from the washstand, and pulled the oversized shirt back on. Droney settled into position against his stomach without being asked.
“Morning, buddy. Had enough time to parse what you heard?”
A resigned beep.
Alexander chuckled, packed in the padding, and headed downstairs.
The common room was mostly empty. A few early risers sat at tables near the windows, eating in silence. No sign of the innkeeper from the night before. A young woman moved behind the bar, wiping down the counter and setting out mugs.
Alexander settled onto a stool at the bar.
The woman looked up from her wiping and offered a quick smile. Droney translated her greeting, and Alexander nodded in return. Then Droney began translating for him.
“Do you have breakfast?”
She tilted her hand back and forth. “Leftovers from last night, or I can send my brother to the baker for fresh bread. I can cut some cheese to go with it.”
She gestured toward the far end of the bar. A boy sat on an upturned crate, maybe ten or eleven, wearing a flat cap and a shirt and trousers that were clearly a size too large for him. He perked up at the mention of being sent somewhere, eyes bright.
“How much for the bread?”
“Three bits a loaf.”
Alexander fished a silver coin from his pocket and flicked it toward the boy. The kid snatched it out of the air, then stared at it open-mouthed.
“Grab three loaves. Keep whatever’s left.”
The sister shooed the boy with both hands. “Hurry up, before he changes his mind.”
The kid was out the door before she finished the sentence.
She turned back to Alexander with a warmer expression than before. “Thank you. That was kind of you. I’m Anyah. Is there anything I can get you while you wait?”
“How about a drink?”
“Of course.”
Anyah turned to fill a mug from the cask. While her back was to him, Alexander set a second silver coin on the counter.
She slid the mug across, spotted the coin, and reached for it. “Let me get your change.”
“You can keep it,” Alexander said, “if you’re willing to answer a few questions about the town. I’m not from around here. Just passing through and hoping to learn a bit about the area.”
She looked at the coin. Then at him. Then she pocketed it and leaned against the bar.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, for starters, what’s the name of the city?” Alexander asked. “I’m a traveler. Arrived late last night.”
“I’m surprised the guard let you through after curfew. This is Harborhill.”
Alexander jingled his coin pocket. “I’m very persuasive.”
Anyah smiled. “Generous, yes. I’ve noticed.” She glanced at his stomach. “Forgive the rudeness, but why do you speak from your belly?”
Alexander fought back a laugh while Droney answered. “I was injured during a cave-in. It was a mining incident.” He shook his head sadly. “We lost many that day. I was one of the few survivors. Thankfully, my talent is to throw my voice without needing to speak.”
Anyah’s eyes widened. “Oh my. You were very lucky to survive.” Then she frowned. “But why from your belly?”
“I find it very amusing. But my sense of humor is very bad. Everyone says so.”
Alexander froze.
Anyah tilted her head. “You mean your sense of humor is very good, right?”
Droney continued. “No. Very bad humor. The lamest.”
Anyah nodded slowly. “I see. Did you have any other questions?”
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Alexander sent the next query, ignoring Droney’s smug amusement. “What’s up with the curfew?” He leaned in closer. “Is the city safe?”
“Oh, there was an explosion a few months ago at the Marquis Estate. Lots of people died.” She frowned, pausing for a moment. “Come to think of it, that was around the time the missing persons notices started going up, too.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of explosion?”
She shrugged. “Nobody knows. Just one day everything was normal, then that night there was an explosion, and the next day we had a new Marquess. She implemented the curfew immediately.”
A couple of patrons entered and loudly demanded drinks. Anyah made her way to the other end of the bar to serve them.
Alexander wanted to know if the people who’d died in the explosion were Empire of Stars personnel, but he couldn’t risk the question exposing his ignorance. It was possible the people in the city considered themselves part of the Empire, rather than external, like the People of the Earth did.
His understanding, limited as it might be, was that the Empire of Stars ruled the planet. The way it seemed so far was as if the Empire was a force that mostly kept itself off-world. Yet they clearly possessed enough power to keep the people on the ground under their heels. Currency, wands, magical knowledge, and the staves and spellbooks linked to the System. They controlled everything.
But he struggled to believe the Empire could truly muster enough force to overpower the entire planet. A continent? Maybe. Maybe even more than one. But everything he’d seen so far implied that they relied heavily on conscripts. If you excluded them, it almost seemed like the Empire of Stars was very seriously outnumbered.
Minlah had told him as much, just framed through her own understanding. But he’d been wary about taking her words at face value, even though he believed she was speaking the truth. The problem was that far too often, truth was fed through perspectives that lacked all the facts.
In the end, he’d already decided to help them. The question was how to do it without getting them killed. He’d hoped the city might prove a secondary source of support, but there were far too many wands floating about the city. He had to assume the people here, perhaps even in other cities like this one, were more supportive of the Empire’s position.
Any revolution would have to begin among the nomadic clans like Wargah’s, long before the city people were considered.
Anyah made her way back. “Sorry—”
Alexander held up a hand. Droney continued translating his thoughts. “Please don’t apologize. I don’t mean to keep you from your work.”
Anyah smiled. “Luckily it’s usually quiet in the mornings.” She gestured at him to continue.
He nodded. “What about the people with the badges? They were blue and gold. I saw some last night.”
“Oh, the adventurers?”
Alexander almost choked on his drink. Coughing into his mug, he prompted Droney to continue.
“Adventurers?”
Anyah waited for him to recover. “Oh, yes. The Empire has been recruiting people with combat talents to join their wizards in raiding the worlds through the gateways.”
Alexander’s eyebrows shot up. That answered the question of whether the average person knew about the gateways, at least. Now the question was whether they believed mana was being stolen by the other worlds, or at least one in particular.
“They’re only allowed to use their talents, though?”
Anyah leaned in. “From what I hear, the Empire permits them both staff and spellbook, but only a few spells. Rumor is that the System lets them develop more magical talents instead.” She glanced over his shoulder, then lowered her voice further. “Some people think the System is going to soon let everyone learn a different type of magic related to our talents.”
That sounded suspiciously like Earth 1’s dual development pathway. Superhumans and the cybernetically Forged.
Alexander smiled. “That would be great.”
“It really would be nice to be able to use more magic. I don’t even have a wand.” She sighed. “The Empire doesn’t need barmaids.”
The tavern door burst open. Anyah’s brother rushed in, panting hard, three loaves of bread cradled in his arms. They were wrapped in baker’s paper, each one a rough oval shape, still warm enough that Alexander could smell them from the bar.
The boy skidded to a stop in front of Alexander and held the bread up like an offering. His face was red from running and his flat cap had slipped sideways.
Alexander patted him on the head and plucked one loaf from the pile. “The other two are for you and your sister.”
The kid’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Ruyah,” Anyah said. “Say thank you.”
“Thank you!”
Anyah smiled at Alexander, then turned toward the back. “I’ll get you some cheese.”
“Don’t forget to get some for you and Ruyah, too.”
She paused. Then she nodded without turning around and disappeared through a door behind the bar.
***
An hour later, Alexander stood in an alley across from the Marquis Estate, half-hidden in shadow.
He’d wandered the city after leaving the tavern, letting Droney continue to absorb the language from the morning crowds while he mapped the streets and catalogued what his senses told him. He’d passed through the market district as it opened, stalls unfolding and vendors calling out to early shoppers. He’d bought an apple from a woman who hadn’t looked twice at him.
The Estate sat on a rise at the northern edge of the city. High brick walls wrapped around the main building and its grounds, topped with iron spikes. The mansion beyond was stone and timber, three stories, with narrow windows on the upper floors and none at all on the ground level.
But that was just the external appearance. The walls were reinforced with metal alloy, though he couldn’t figure out why they’d disguise it.
There was also an additional Tier 2 signature. He’d only sensed the one last night, which meant the second had either been hidden in the warded basement or had arrived since then. Neither option was comforting.
There were almost two dozen Tier 1s spread across the estate, too. Guards patrolling along the walls and stationed inside the building.
Alexander wasn’t worried about the numbers. There was a qualitative difference between his attributes and theirs that no small amount of Tier 1s could close. Even the Tier 2s wouldn’t last long in a straight fight.
What gave him pause was the unknown. Magic he couldn’t detect. Spells he couldn’t resist. Whatever was in the basement that was being blocked from his senses entirely. They could be hiding an army down there for all he knew.
But unless they could trap him, it wouldn’t matter. The city’s anti-flight ward was weaker than the one at the fortress. He could feel where the spell originated from, a node buried somewhere beneath the central square. If he wanted, he could sabotage it ahead of time as insurance, saving himself from needing to break through it later.
The question was whether to move now or wait.
A few more days of observation would give him more information. Guard rotations, shift changes, the Marquess’s habits. It would give Droney more time with the language. It would let him probe the ward structure and map the basement’s shielded area from multiple angles.
That information might even allow him to perform a proper infiltration, rather than using force.
But people were going missing. Every day he waited might be another person dragged into whatever was happening beneath that mansion.
Because even though Anyah hadn’t linked the two, it seemed obvious to him. Missing people, strange magical explosions, and a new wizard overseer from an Empire that used people as mana batteries all added up to something ugly.
On the one hand, it wasn’t really his problem. On the other hand, since waking up in a new reality, he’d stopped walking away from other people’s problems.
Maybe the System was right. Maybe there was a little bit of superhero in him after all.
Then again, maybe it was just that the idea of sitting around and waiting for the gateway to reopen instead of exploring and having some fun seemed like a terrible waste of time.
The only other issue was that He Who Whispers had stopped talking to him. That was either a good sign or a very bad one. Either the Divine had given up, or Alexander had finally moved beyond the range of whatever ability he was using.
Or he was listening instead of whispering. Waiting for his moment.
Alexander raised the apple to his mouth, took a bite, and chewed slowly.
