Counterintuitively, Luke felt his hands get clammy from holding the elixir.
This consumable in his hand was perfectly suited to him. If the gods in this world weren't so twisted, he'd thank heaven. But in this case, thanking Brisen was preferable. Stopping himself from sucking in his teeth and letting slip the valuable elixir, Luke said, "I've lost count of how many tis I wondered how ice affinity might help . I owe you, Brisen, thanks."
Laughing heartily, "This is my promised gift, but if you want to pay back, young man, go figure out where my research partner was taken to."
The reminder of his dad's situation soured Luke's mood, "I'd do it regardless, but thanks, this will help . I'm certain of it."
Faint light from the ceiling shone onto the Master Elixirist, portraying his age, wrinkles abound, and skin folds with a slight sag. Stress lines appeared over Brisen's face, "Leera and era have had their work cut out for them. The store has been staked out multiple tis, but no concrete attempts. This close to the Tides, whatever force is targeting the valuable crafters in the Duchy is doing it again."
Putting a hand on Brisen's shoulder, Luke said, "If I can help, let know. We started off rough, but let's say I have a bone to pick with these kidnapping fuckers." Shifting the tension, Luke said, "Getting you to owe another favor would be a good thing—if this potion is any indication."
Following that, Brisen brushed off the hand, "If the old rely too much on the young, you youngsters will be worn out before it's your ti. Let this old man handle your problems, and you handle yours."
"If you say so," Luke uncorked the elixir cap, "Bottom's up," the light blue liquid with hints of white flowed into Luke's mouth, drinking it all in one go.
As the substance coiled down Luke's throat, an icy burn spread across the Reaver's body, the sensations intensifying imdiately and abruptly. Ice ford within, lting and reforming cyclically. You'd think it'd overly bother the Reaver, but the constant reforging of his vessel, or body, against ice, minimized the effects.
At best, a vague discomfort overtook him, soon replaced by a cold, soothing internal vibe. Luke felt more at ho than anything with it, connecting closer with the ice, always within and around. An icicle ford over his arm, with a singular black streak to its top, before breaking apart monts later.
Against his will, mist ford through his eyes, and the perspiration from his mouth turned crystalline, glints appeared in the discarded carbon dioxide.
"Take care, young man. The stronger one is with their elentalization technique, the greater the first affinity boost will be. Avoid touching others until you can rein it in."
Whispering To floated back avoidably, frost coating the fringes of the pages. Xera yelped in joy once her sword body turned into a blue-black ice mix, "Ice sword again! But better? What's this black stuff? Master, did you learn how to dye your ice?"
Luke chuckled internally. I doubt it's that simple. I'm as confused as you are, my bloodthirsty friend.
Undulating blue and white light overca Luke's eyes. Mist pulsed out his body, and suddenly, a stronger second sight, similar to when he faced the Doppelganger, ca to fruition. The Reaver could envision two images next to Brisen, mirroring the monic's subsequent actions with slight error.
Perhaps his technique was trying to 'predict' what his target could do. Or was going to do? That was the best Luke could gather from the phenonon. Acutely aware that allowing the Ice to run rampant was not a good idea—around allies anyway—the Reaver shut out external influences, closed his eyes, and focused on reigning in the evolved ice.
You listen to . You are .
Advancing overly quickly had its drawbacks. The mist was stubborn—like it had a defiant will—one that Luke set about crushing with intention. Inch by inch, the fog receded into him, and the cold intensified within his body. The interaction was within an acceptable range, not that it was pleasurable.
The respiration was next. The ice crystals thinned, turning into smaller sparkles, before vanishing back into regular gaseous constructs. He heard Xera loudly complain as the ice rushing from his hand over the Sword Wand began to recede, cracking, falling, and reabsorbing into Luke.
By the end, the Reaver certainly felt freezing; blisters from the cold blood across his hands in particular.
Nothing a potion or bandages couldn't fix. That was beside the point. Did his ice evolve so quickly that his body struggled to handle it again?
Luke certainly hoped not; getting hypothermia from your own abilities was not a fun experience. He would know that happened after fighting fleshy bat-n, Camazotz. Suffice to say, he would avoid that repeating.
Playing into that, Luke slowed the conquering of the ice essence around, the pace suited him. Roughly ten minutes later, it had all co under control, and as a side benefit, his body felt more resistance to the cold once again.
Opening his eyes, two log notices confird Luke's thoughts.
[Ice Affinity Talent Elixir consud, gaining twelve ice affinity. Your ice related abilities, techniques, and skills beco significantly more potent. Understanding of ice has furthered]
[Your body successfully adjusted to your newly evolved ice. Frost resistance increased by 18]
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Luke observed his hands. The blisters there monts ago closed up, and pale snow-white skin had reclaid the area.
Shifting Xera to wand form, just for the heck of it, Luke pointed Xera up toward Brisen, "I can see why people go crazy over these Elixirs now. Too bad I can only enjoy one of those, a couple and I'd break through to Master in Ice elentalization." Twirling Xera through his fingers, Luke eventually taped the wand head under his chin, "In my eyes, I owe you. Call, and I'll co running, Brisen."
Pausing a mont, Luke beca self assured the ice behaved itself, touching him now safe for the untrained. The Reaver stood up and offered a hand to Brisen, "You'll have to tell the price of those other permanent and temporary increase ones now that I've got a taste," Luke signed, "might be a little too addicted. Power increases without real struggle is damn near euphoric."
"I knew we would see eye to eye, master. That's how I see things when you soup up with your spells and ice. You're my favorite! Don't tell the other seven I said that, though."
"No promises." Luke joked, figuring the seven previous Reavers he knew of wouldn't rise from the dead.
The intent went right over Xera's wand head, "Have pity—"
Ruffling through his beard, Brisen interrupted, "Your artifact is quite different in temperant from Annika's weapon, Cedric."
"What's that supposed to an?"
"Anyway you take it, Sword-Wand young lady. Could you share your gains with , young Luke? I take a craftsman's pride in knowing the results of my creations—to the important users."
Calling Xera by her preferred moniker had the incredible effect of getting her lt away and previously bubbling feelings. Luke could feel the Artifact switch her opinion of Brisen in real ti.
Mirroring the attempt at persuasion, the reflective walls changed scene, an inviting sky blue above green lake waters, soft sun shining as if mid-day. The sound was absent, which created an off-putting feeling.
Going for a give and take, Luke said, "Answer my question first, could you?"
Displaying a sly grin, Brisen said, "Another has fallen to my creations, I see. The temporary ones have a caveat, your body can only adapt to one at a ti. Stacking multiple is less than useless—it's worse—you'll actively harm your body doing that and gain no extra effect. For the price…" Brisen pinched two fingers together, "Permanent ones are always dozens of tis more expensive, ranging from fifty gold to several hundred. On the other hand, temporary kinds tend to run from ten gold to thirty, depending on needed materials and how in demand the boost is."
Falling to subdue the shock at the price tag, Luke raised both eyebrows, eyes blinking a little too rapidly, "At that price, how do the tower teams afford to go in each ti with them?"
Laughing proudly, Brisen said, "They tend to keep them as backups, used in ergencies— tower teams can afford it. The dungeons teams, not so much, barring any sponsorship or those stuck farming Crystal Demon Point."
Muting his expression, Luke found it acceptable, but likely not the entire picture. After placing Xera into her holster for wand form, the Reaver inford Brisen what he gained from drinking the Elixir.
Unexpectedly, Brisen's eyeballs threatened to pop out, and the runes etched to his cheeks flashed rapidly, "You underwent a small evolution? Gaining resistance of that magnitude is not normal, young man. I'm beginning to feel sorry for any fool standing in your way." Coughing to regain himself, Brisen said, "Best you be off, Defier. As much as an old man like enjoys a nice chat, the demands on my ti are much too high during these tis."
Noting the bags under Brisen's eyes, Luke scratched the back of his head, "I'll leave you to it, Brisen."
The old monic man grasped Luke's wrist and shoved another elixir into him, "Take this; it's not free, but you can pay after the Tide is over. A temporary battle elixir, use it as a last resort. After five minutes of battle talent beyond your capabilities, you'll be drained body and soul."
Nodding firmly, Luke took the battle elixir, put it into the Inventory, and left the store, biding Brisen goodbye with a simple wave.
______________________________________________
In Sylen's northeast section, Luke felt a mix of lancholy, elation, and introspectiveness.
lancholy due to a certain feathered friend's absence from Luke's shoulder, elation from the recent rocket-like progress with his techniques and overall stats, finally, introspectiveness when he realized one could often tell what type of people lived in an area based on the building's appearance. It wasn't an iron-set rule, though it frequently held true.
The Defier's guild stood a few miles out in the distance behind him. The black tal architecture peaked between inhuman vision and the building's grandeur relative to the rest of Sylen's eastern half.
Only to be shadowed by the Silver-Black tower looming overhead, as it did to the rest of the city. Luke ca to this section of the city to stop procrastinating. It'd been days, perhaps longer since he swore to visit Celen, the nice old monic man he t while guarding the Fasa caravan to Sylen.
That felt like ages ago to him.
He hoped Celen would treat him the sa. The hopeful eyes of refugees, townspeople, and guards around bore a certain pressure. One he would like to be directed elsewhere.
It all spoke the sa intent: Will he save us?
The dichotomy in movent bedazzled Luke for a mont. Hunters, craftsn, and even guards rushed from place to place, eking out final objectives before ti was up. Others floundered on the streets, coming to accept fate and stagnate beggars panhandled in the alley corners.
A few 'preachers' stood atop stack boxes, passing along sermons of the coming god beast's wraith. They, too, were split into camps, one for the salvation of the World Spirit, the other to prepare for the gluttony tribute soon to be upon them.
At least the sun shone warm rays on the city rising in turmoil.
Luke thought it ironic this city, Sylen, poised to hold such a burden, yet he saw little signs of the other five major Duchy cities he ca to learn about. Where were hunters from those cities? Resources? Royal Forces? Other Defiers?
Surely they couldn't all be at the border, could they? Luke was prone to think, at best, a quarter of such forces were there. Provided by the fact that he had never seen any significant flow of forces coming from the interior while rushing out to the border.
No, it was always the opposite, people fleeing the outer edges of the Duchy, cramming into Sylen, and often leaving shortly after. "To the safe five" beca a common saying lately. Being that the Duchy had six cities far larger than any other, that ant Sylen had to be the odd duck out.
Was their purpose to be a safe haven while Sylen was to be the sole shield? And what if such a disastrously lousy policy led to the 'Bulwark City' folding in half from the Tide's relentless assault?
The Reaver found his opinion of Duchy dropping once again. Shaking his head, he swirled Xera in small circles, coming down the paved road. The buildings were well-made with signs of magic ingrained within most of the construction.
In the back corner of the street he'd just co upon was a house appearing startlingly close to what Celen described in the past. Blue oakwood, purple shingles, two stories, crystal windows, and a portcullis-like gate, with a small garden sporting various common herbs.
The scent was akin to what one would find from wet pine with a pinch of cinnamon.
Ambling up to the gate, Luke slowly pushed it open, finding it unlocked, as Celen swore it would be. Sothing about being the 'loved grandpa' of the neighborhood ant he feared no harassnt from Sylen's gangs at night.
Luke reckoned he gave the big three underworld groups larger issues to deal with lately without including the headaches the Tide must also be mounting on them.
Careful to stay on the short brick path up to the sizable but still quaint ho, Luke knocked gently at the plain white wooden door.
"Anybody ho? It's Luke, I'm here to visit Celen."
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