The midday sun rose on the Lake of Greed.
The place was breathtakingly beautiful in spite of its dreadful na. The lake nested among a patchwork of rolling hills and sunlit fields, its blue-green waters fed by the Volgova River. The warm wind blew across its surface, raising wispy clouds of mist and steam. I noticed an eagle swooping down to catch a fish in its talons and a flock of swans gliding along the waters surface in the shadow of ancient oak trees.
Id heard tales that the Lake of Greed glimred like gold in the sumr. Unfortunately, the morning gray mist made its waters look more like cold steel to . The great, half-sunken abbey standing in the lakes midst seed to blink in and out of sight as the fog swirled around it. Its stony fortifications arose from the waters like the fins of a great beast rising from the depths, and the few boats gliding through its cracks were quickly swallowed by the mist.
Why do they call it the Lake of Greed? Marika asked as she touched the waters with her hand. I dont feel any cupidity in the air.
Its where the first generation of Heroes defeated and entombed the Devil of Greed, or so the history books say, I replied. Since the first part was untrue, I wondered if I could trust the rest of these accounts. That's holy water youre washing your hands in.
I hope the Goddess will forgive . Marika took a deep breath. Its the first ti Ive visited a true Sanctuary.
I couldnt agree more. The air was purer here than at the top of the tallest mountains, the deep silence soothing rather than oppressive. The lush grass and flowers flourishing along the bank filled my nostrils with a sweet sumr sll. This place revitalized . I felt fresh after an hours-long grueling march. No monsters disturbed the area either. No dragon nor dreadwolf had dared to make the lake their den in centuries.
Blights ford when human suffering and sins coalesced in great enough quantities to warp the lands essence. However, the process applied to all emotions. When happiness, faith, and good deeds compounded in one place, sotis they blessed the area with eternal bliss.
Whether the lake beca this way because our predecessors struck down the Devil of Greed or after centuries of pilgrimages coalesced it into sacred grounds, its power was real now. When the Purple Plague struck Archfrost, thousands traveled to its sunken abbey for treatnt. The sacred waters could not save everyone; but they helped cure many. The local priests still treated many patients to this day, offering free treatnt to the sick and the lepers of the world.
These waters could have saved Mom. Saved Dad. Sorrow swelled in my heart when I looked at my reflection on the lakes surface. I knew it was all wishful thinking. We didnt know Mom had caught the Purple Plague until wed reached the Riverland Federation, by which it was already too late to turn back. And even if we had, crossing a hundred leagues in a wartorn, pestilence-infested country would have been a feat worthy of a Heroes ballad.
At least they helped save soones parents.
It's a pity we cant stay here for long. I glanced at the rest of our group. Our horses drank along the bank under our guards watch, while the cook stirred oats and quail in a kettle. Soraseo vigilantly observed our surroundings from atop a mount, her hand squarely resting on her swords hilt. The royal banner floated in the wind at our camps center. We still have many leagues ahead of us.
Roland lent us fifty soldiers for the embassy mission. A handful of lordlings, nobles, and officials also traveled with us. Their nas would add weight to our procession and attest to the future kings goodwill, or so I hoped.
At least I had managed to secure an audience with Walbourgs leadership in their border-fortress of Riverstone. It involved securing safe passage for the reinforcents they sent to the now-besieged Regent through various ssages, which caused quite a stir among Rolands entourage. Many of its warhawks argued that we should have ambushed Walbourgs troops as a preemptive strike to retake the region by force. I was starting to understand Rolands issue. Many of his lords simply did not believe in a peaceful resolution.
It was our job to prove them wrong.
Local folk believe that if you throw goods into the waters, the Devil of Greed will never return them, I told Marika. If you want to get rid of sothing, now is the ti.
I wish I could throw my husband into this lake, Marika said with a dark look. She grabbed a waterskin off her belt and started filling it up. But I doubt even the Devil of Greed would take him.
You cant know until youve tried. My attempt at lightening the mood fell flat. Marika stared at the lakes waters without answering . Beni is safe in Snowdrift. You dont need to worry about him.
Her smile had a sad edge to it. Youre sweet, Robin, but youre wrong. Beni wont be safe so long as Will remains afoot.
Unfortunately, she was probably right. I knew very well why Marika insisted on joining on this diplomatic mission. Her husbands golems killed the Druid near Walbourg, so their creator likely hid in the region. Will Costa had cheated on her, threw them into financial turmoil, traumatized his son after nearly murdering him, and then cast his lot in with demons.
I didnt bla Marika for wanting to beco a widow.
I dont want to fear for my son, Robin, Marika said after filling her waterskin. I dont want Beni to live his life looking over his shoulder, wondering whether his father will crawl out of the shadows with a demonic sword and murder on his mind. I dont want people to associate my family with soul-slaving golems, Blights, and cursed weapons.
They wont, I replied, trying to cheer her up. People will rember him as your son, not his. Beni will grow sick of kids telling him his mother conquered the sky.
This ti my joke drew a chuckle out of her. I still cant believe you used the airship for a date. Marika looked at with a frown. Still no word from Eris?
I shook my head. Our naughty nun hadnt been seen since she teleported out to check on the new Druid. I admit her absence worried quite a bit, and not only because I had many questions to ask her. If sothing happened to her
I drew the Devil Coin from my purse. The cursed gold glittered in the sunlight. Perhaps I should throw it in the lake and let the sacred waters wash it away. Would it even work? Eris told we could only destroy the coins once we gathered them all, but Id never actually tried another thod. I simply assud that she was telling the truth.
Had that been a mistake?
I shouldnt think like this. If you dont give trust a chance now and then, you can never make true friends. Still, it didnt hurt to verify. Thankfully, I have a curse expert on hand.
What do you think of this coin, Marika? I asked my friend after lending it to her. Any idea how it works?
Shouldnt you know better? Youre the rchant here. Marika raised the Devil Coin to the sun and studied its shine. I took a look at Fenrivos coin, but now Im sure of it. The Devil Coins are gilded.
Are you telling the Devil of Greed uses counterfeit currency? The irony of the situation amused . I am shocked, I tell you.
Dont be. This coin is worth more than its weight in solid gold. Marikas brows furrowed in contemplation. Its made of soulforged adamantine.
I chuckled. Nice one, Marika. I rubbed off too much on you.
Im not joking, Robin.
I waited for the punchline, and then realized that yes, she was entirely serious. Most would have kept laughing at Marika anyway, but I trusted her with my life.
I bought enough blacksmith skills to fully grasp the weight of her statent. A coin of soulforged adamantine would cost more than a kingdoms treasury. Raw adamantine was already the rarest, most expensive ore in the world, even ahead of the purest runestones. Only master smiths had the skills required to work it, and its soulforged alloy required even more steps to forge.
I take back what I said, the Devil of Greed isnt cheap at all. I stared at the coin in disbelief. How did she forge these? If I rember correctly, you can only create soulforged adamantine alloy in a place of great power infused with the Artifacts magic.
Or the Goddess. Most soulforged adamantine goes all the way back to the Age of Wonders, when she still walked the earth. It must have been easier to produce back then. Marika returned the coin to . Belgoroths sword was made of the sa indestructible substance as well.
Indestructible? I raised an eyebrow. Theres no such thing as the impossible.
If the Abbey or previous Heroes could destroy these coins, they would have, Marika replied. You can rework soulforged adamantine by filling gaps with normal adamantine ore, but the alloy itself is invulnerable. You could throw that coin into a volcano and watch the mountain spit it out.
"Even your power can't affect it?" I asked. "Colmar?"
"As far as I know, soulforged adamantine is divinely immutable. " Marika shrugged. "If any Hero's power could destroy these coins, one of our predecessors would have done so."
Youre the expert here, so Ill take your word for it. I squinted at the coin. I couldnt stand its ghoulish, mocking grin. Still
I know that face. Marika smiled. You have an idea in mind, Robin?
More like a theory. I put the Devil Coin back in my purse. Dont you find it strange that the two Demon Ancestors weve faced so far both rely on soulforged adamantine trinkets to enforce their will? The Devil of Greed needs her coins to form demonic contracts, and Belgoroth requires his sword to break out of his prison according to Florence. It could be nothing, but I find it odd it happened twice.
Marikas jaw clenched. When Will and I when we tried to work on Belgoroths sword She gulped, her cheeks growing paler. It was like soone had folded a hundred Blights into a needle. The blade held so much hate and fury, I cant even put it into words
Dont force yourself if you dont want to rember. That was clearly a painful mory and I would loathe to reopen old wounds.
Its its fine. Im over it. It sounded like a lie, but I knew Marika was strong enough to make it true one day. When I worked to reforge it, I had a vision.
My heartbeat stopped. Of Belgoroth?
I saw him killing his lover, I think? And burning a city Marika shook her head as if trying to expel that bad mory from her thoughts. So much anger
Dont force yourself, I comforted her. Her words awakened dark mories of my own. I saw a mory of the Devil of Greed when I tried to seal a soul in a coin, and she was just as awful.
Marikas head snapped in my direction. You did what?
Not for myself, I quickly explained. For science.
I should have known. Marika squinted at suspiciously. Did it did it work?
No, thankfully. She continued to give a strange look, much to my amusent. Im not going to try and buy your soul, Marika. Youre my friend.
Thats not really reassuring. Marika hesitated a mont before clumsily changing the subject. It is strange that we could both get a glimpse of a Demon Ancestors mories.
Especially since we used different thods, I said with a short nod. Unlike Belgoroths sword, the coin I used was unrelated to the Devil of Greed.
Eris said Belgoroth had beco linked to the concept of wrath itself, Marika pointed out. If thats true for all Demon Ancestors, then maybe we connect with them whenever we tap into raw essence related to their sins.
Could be. I wasnt certain we could fully believe Eriss words anymore, but they fell in line with our own observations so far. Sinful essence, soulforged adamantine items, the Demon Ancestors immortality Im sure they all tie into each other sohow.
too. Marika glanced at my purse. Lets study your coin further on our way south. Youve been lagging behind in your witchcrafting lessons, so itll be an opportunity to catch up.
I grinned mischievously. You are way too harsh a teacher, mistress Marika.
Marika lightly punched in the shoulder. Smartass.
Afterward, we ended up having cooked quail and a bowl of oats for a al; a plate which surprised Soraseo quite a bit. She tasted her porridge with the grace and restraint of a gourt discovering a new flavor.
Is it your first ti eating quail? Marika asked Soraseo.
We hunt quail in my holand, but ours has brown feathers. Soraseo paused for a mont, as if afraid to offend us with her next words. We do not have oats.
Good for you, I quipped. Your people were spared a terrible fate.
I am liking the food of Archfrost, but it could use more spice, Soraseo confessed. Like ginger.
I would add ginger to my food too if I could, but it costs a fortune and the recent embargo on Seukaian goods only caused prices to soar. At this rate, it would beco cheaper to buy eastern spices at their source.
I should visit the Shinkoku sotis, I mused out loud. The Fire Islands remained at the top of my list of places to visit once Id completed my work in Archfrost, but a good rchant traveled to wherever opportunity knocked.
It is my intention to return after I have visited the Deadgate. Soraseos expression beca almost wistful, although her eyes remained distant. You could co with , Robin. You too, Marika.
Why not? Marika replied warmly. She ca to Snowdrift for work, so she wasnt all that tied to Archfrost as a country. Itll depend on Beni however. I dont mind traveling, but my son is liking Snowdrift so far. I dont want to uproot him again.
Beni already spends more ti on ships than at school, I replied. Well just have to bring Tehri with us and hell bolt out of Snowdrift in no ti.
Probably, Marika said with a chuckle. I would feel better with the likes of you looking after him, Soraseo.
I will protect your son, Soraseo said with confidence. You are strong Marika, but if you are having a problem with demons, I will grab the victory.
I smiled a little. She used these exact words when she decided to join us on the diplomatic mission. Since the Knots would no doubt try to prevent peace between Archfrost and its rebellious province, it made sense for a combat-oriented Hero to escort us. Besides, having one of the Knights Vassal Classes with us would counterbalance the fact the other worked for Walbourg in peoples eyes.
anwhile, Cortaner decided to stay with Roland. It would be for the better. Our beloved Knight didnt need a bodyguard; he needed a conscience who could keep on the straight-and-narrow path. Cortaner would not relent in this particular duty.
I admit it was nice to travel with Marika and Soraseo again. It felt like only yesterday since we climbed onto that Riverland Federation ferry together on our way to Archfrost. So much has happened since.
After the al we continued to travel south. Since our group traveled exclusively on horseback, we should reach the Walbourg border in slightly less than a weeks ti if we kept a steady pace. Once we did that, we would make a stop at the city of Frostwood, which served as the last buffer between Archfrost and its rebellious province.
Our journey mostly happened without any noteworthy incident: days of horse riding followed by nights of witchcrafting or swordsmanship practice. However, I noticed the landscape around us slowly changed over ti. The land grew more fertile, its black soil enriched by slow-moving rivers and warm sunlight. Every ten leagues raised the temperature by a degree, or at least it felt that way to . Fields of corn, wheat, and barley stretched as far as the eye could see while wild raspberries had taken over old unused roads. We stayed clear of many towns and holdfasts so as not to slow down.
Its livelier down here, Marika noted.
Archfrosts south was always richer and more populated than the north, I explained to her. Less militarized too, at least before Walbourg revolted.
Whereas Archfrosts harsh northern climate reduced its agricultural productivity, its southern territories gentle warmth turned them into the countrys breadbasket. Its hills produced marble, copper, and other precious raw materials. Proximity with Erebia and the Arcadian Freeholds also led to the growth of lucrative foreign trade.
However, most of the kingdoms tariffs served to fill the armys coffers and secure the lands northern border against beastn invasions. The Walbourg rebellion originally started with a dispute over the burden of taxation before degenerating into a civil war after the Dukes murder.
I would have to solve these issues if I were to negotiate peace with the kingdoms wayward province.
Moreover, worrying signs of another problem arose over ti: the remains of half-eaten goats left by the wayside near shattered wagons; traces of dried blood near the remains of abandoned campfires; a piece of a claw as long as my forearm stuck in a clawed tree.
Monsters lurked nearby.
Dreadwolf, one of our scouts said upon identifying the claw. I suggest we fortify our camp at night, Lord Robin.
Good call, I replied. Most monsters would stay wary of a group as large as ours but not a Dreadwolf. Those beasts were larger than elephants, savagely cunning, incredibly vicious, and blessed with the uncanny ability to turn invisible in the dark. The creatures even attacked entire villages when hungry enough.
I thought Dreadwolves stuck to dense forests, Marika said, slightly worried. What is one doing near the road?
Because it is easy hunting, Soraseo observed wisely. No one protects the road.
I nodded in agreent. We should have encountered outriders or patrols by now, but with the plague and civil war, most soldiers are either up north or protecting the southern border. And as they say nature abhors a vacuum.
It saddened to see my holand like this. Monsters preying on roads were the telltale sign of a failed state. If the kingdom couldnt protect its peasants, then they would wonder why they should pay taxes or take the law into their own hands. That kind of situation always led to societal breakdown over ti.
We needed peace and fast.
We were half a day away from Frostwood when I finally managed to infuse my rapier with wind essence. It required a handful of wind-infused runestones Marika acquired, and a few costly failures, but I eventually managed to transfer their power to my steel under her guidance. I waved my sword on horseback, its blade whistling as it cut through the air. The wind blowing through the nearby trees didnt sound half as good.
Congratulations, Marika complinted . We might make a witchcrafter out of you yet.
Isnt it strange? I wondered. I thought you needed a Second Awakening to manipulate air essence?
You need a Second Awakening to extract elental essence in its raw, natural form, Marika explained. Try to take essence from the air if you dont believe .
When she dared so politely, how could I refuse her? I raised my hand and let the sumr wind blow through my fingers. I attempted to weave the breeze like threads and quickly failed. I struggled to perceive the essence at all.
My magical sight sharpened with my witchcrafter training. I could detect the flow of essence from physical objects easily, or the parasitic remains of negative emotions latching onto objects where they didnt belong. I could touch the forr, and the latter was so out of place I could easily identify it.
But how could one seize air in the palm of their hands? Its essence was all around and yet completely invisible; like a background noise I had lived all my life with before realizing it existed separately from my subjective reality.
See what I an? Marika waved her hand at the oaks along our path. Your eyes can see the trees, but they dont realize sothing stands in between them. A wall of gas that you can push and blow and inhale, but never grasp.
I see what you an. I grabbed the exhausted remains of a wind runestone I used to power my rapier. In that case, I simply had to grasp the essence captured within the piece of rock and push it into my blade. Once it is stored in a runestone, it is simply a matter of directing its flow in one direction or another.
Exactly. Since essence naturally tries to latch onto solid matter, elental essence behaves like any other once extracted and refined. The hard part is to seal energy into a solid form in the first place.
Thats why I would need to align my witchcrafting with the Windsword to manipulate air essence? I asked, now extrely curious. I realized Id barely scratched the surface of the witchcrafting arts. Because it will let tell air essence apart from that of solid matter?
Pretty much, Marika confird. Each Artifact is tied to an energy source. The Firewand fuels the sun and flas; the Earthcoin moves the land beneath our feet and creates quakes; the Windsword generates lightning and air currents; and the Seacup controls the tides. Once you align with one of them, you can extract essence related to that energy, either to manipulate it in its rawest form or to store it in runestones for future use.
It would be nice to create elental runestones, I said. Not to ntion imnsely profitable. Have you tried to undergo a Second Awakening yourself?
You need expensive elixirs and training for that. I never found the ti or money. Marika shrugged. If I were to undergo the rite, I guess I would align with the Firewand. It makes the most sense for a smith, dont you think?
Innovation cos from strange and unexplored places, I countered. If you align with the Windsword, you could start creating wind-swords yourself.
I would rather create airships, Marika replied with a shrug. They havent killed anyone yet.
Yet being the keyword in this case. I sheathed my rapier when our group abruptly stopped. I looked at our vanguard. Soraseo rode at our columns head, her mailed hand raised, her head turning towards the sprawling, dense woods along the road.
Whats happening? Marika asked.
The trees are watching us, Soraseo replied.
My hand tightened on my rapiers hilt. Our guards prepared to draw their own swords too, with everyone expecting an ambush. I could only think of a few foes brave enough to attempt such folly in broad daylight.
Soldiers? I asked, my eyes narrowed in alarm. Demons?
No, Robin. Soraseo stared at the forest. The trees are watching us. They have been for hours.
I wondered what she ant when I heard a noise coming from the woods. A group of five outriders soon erged from the forest, led by a bespectacled man in boiled leather armor. Most of them wielded bows, crossbows, and the occasional spears. Their equipnt belonged to forest guards rather than knights or bandits.
Welco, Heroes, the leader politely introduced himself. I am Thorn from the Fronan Printing Press. Mr. Fronan warned us of your arrival.
Fronan? My disbelief swiftly turned to excitent when I recognized the na. Marwen Fronan?
Wait, isnt that the inventor of the printing press? Marika asked, her eyes alight with shared enthusiasm. Isnt he in the Arcadian Freeholds?
His company bought patches of forests in Archfrost a few years ago, I rembered, my heartbeat hastening. I actually considered approaching them on behalf of the Frostfox Company in the near future. Of course it would be near Frostwood.
The printing press? Soraseo asked, slightly confused by the term. He presses letters?
He does far more than that, I said with a childish grin. His company pioneered the mass production of books and invented the first newspapers. They made knowledge cheap.
I considered Marwen Fronan a first-class entrepreneur; the kind whose inventions and work changed the world for the better. The man probably did more to spread ideas and literacy than any other mortal alive.
And I might have the opportunity to et him in the flesh!
Is he here? I asked Mr. Thorn with all the professional composure I could muster.
He is, Mr. Thorn confird. I couldnt believe my luck. We operate a lumberyard an hours walk away. Mr. Fronan would like to et you there, if it pleases you.
It took all my willpower not to answer positively on the spot. We were on a ti-sensitive diplomatic mission after all. My holands future took priority over a childish dream of mine.
However, I had another reason to et with this man. A potentially world-changing one.
I exchanged a look with my fellow Heroes. Soraseo held my gaze the longest. Do you have the sa thought as I, Robin?
Yes, I do, I replied. The Druid was supposedly killed in this area. If the trees were watching us and Fronan learned of our presence, this could only an one thing. I turned to face Thorn. Lead the way.
It would be my honor. Mr. Thorn waved his hand at us and invited us to follow his group into the forest.
We heard the lumberyard long before we saw it. The rhythmic noise of collapsing trees and chisels cutting through wood slowly reverberated among the whistling leaves, alongside the clatter of tools and the moans of donkeys. Thick plus of white smoke arose above the canopy of oaks and pines. A few minutes later, we reached thick fences and sharpened spikes unmolested.
Snowdrift had few lumber yards in its vicinity, but none as big as the one ahead of us. The camp rivaled a beehive in organization and activity. Massive log piles arranged by age, type, and quality littered the camps ground, with the sturdy pines and oaks stripped of their bark by a small army of hardened sawyers. Grizzled lumberjacks in wool coats and leather jerkins sharpened their axes on planks and beams that would support future buildings. Small forges burned adjacent to a set of carpenter workshops, their goods gathered on sturdy carts and boats parked along a small river. The very air carried the sll of sawdust.
A single anomaly stood out from this organized chaos. A crippled giant of steel sat in the middle of the camp, its broken knees impaled by twin yews. Vines and ivy infested every inch of its thick steel armor, restraining it better than ropes. Roots crawled out of its shattered helt in a shape that reminded of a hangmans noose.
Marika paled at the sight of the wrecked machine and imdiately rushed to its side. She had recognized her husbands work.
Thank the Goddess. Marika sighed in relief after checking the golem. Its been exorcized.
What is a golem doing here? I imdiately asked Mr. Thorn after climbing down from my horse.
That thing attacked our camp a moon ago, the man replied with a sorrowful look. Stefan took it out. Cost him his life too, sadly.
It didnt take long to guess that he was referring to the forr Druid. So this was where he perished.
Marwen Fronan arrived to greet us a few minutes later. I had no issues identifying him since he stood out from the gathered lumberjacks. The man looked rather fit for soone in his mid-sixties, with his chiseled beard cut short and his well-grood gray hair tied into a ponytail. His deep blue eyes shone with uncanny intelligence behind a silver monocle. His elegant velvet doublet, satin gloves, wool pants, and leather shoes reminded of the Riverland Federation robber barons Id grown accustod to in Erline. Yet I sensed none of their greed coming from that man, which didnt surprise . Marwen Fronan enjoyed a good reputation as a fair-minded visionary.
It was an honor to et such a fad inventor and entrepreneur in the flesh. Moreover, he imdiately felt familiar, the way all Heroes did.
Greetings, Mr. Fronan greeted us with a flowery Arcadian accent. He smiled warmly at our group, raised up his pants right seam and unveiled his leg. A silver mark representing a tree glittered on his wrinkled skin, right next to the old Erebian nural for two. I believe this is how we Heroes introduce ourselves?
A picture says a thousand words, I replied after showing him my own mark. Soraseo and Marika quickly imitated . Youre the new Druid.
In the flesh, Mr. Fronan confird after covering his mark. For about half a month now.
The inventor of the printing press is the Druid. I struggled not to laugh at the irony. Thats rich.
No one was more surprised than I, I can assure you. Mr. Fronan scowled at the golem. That abomination killed the better man.
Marikas expression darkened. What happened?
My predecessor was this camps woodsmaster, Stefan. A brave lad and a first-class worker. Mr. Fronan let out a heavy sigh. He was investigating a case of missing refugees and ran afoul with that machines creator.
Refugees? I asked while Marika paled like a corpse.
With the civil war and the plague, many refugees transit through Frostwood on their way to Erebia or the Arcadian Freeholds, Mr. Fronan explained with a grim frown. Criminals use these woods to lure poor fools with promises of secret passages or safe journeys, only to rob them blind or worse.
Marika glanced at the golem with a horrified look. I myself trembled with anger. Witchcrafters required many souls to infuse a golem with life after all.
The lives that animated the machines among the Regents army had to co from sowhere.
We can discuss this around a cup of tea. Mr. Fronan quickly shook my hand with a firm grip. As youve already guessed, Im Marwen Fronan, founder of the Fronan Printing Press. You must be Lord Robin, I assu? Mrs. Belarra spoke well of you.
Youve t Eris? My heart skipped a beat. Is she here?
She left weeks ago, Marwen replied, much to my disappointnt. She must be in Walbourg by now.
There were many reasons why Eris might travel to a rebel province, and none of them were good. Why is that?
Havent you heard? Marwen cleared his throat. There are rumors saying that the duchys Reformists invited the new Priest to visit them. I assu Lady Alexios fears a schism in the Arcane Abbey and sent Mrs. Belarra to handle the situation.
I heard the words, rehearsed them in my head, and then let out a sigh.
I could already tell that this diplomatic mission would prove exhausting.
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