I frowned. It seemed this little black gem would cause problems if I flashed it around too much. That ruined my plan of asking people in town to help me figure out how to use it. At this point... it might be worth more in currency than as a tool for magic. Perhaps I could trade it for a different type of spellheart. One that would bond to me more readily.
“What about Sava’s spellheart? Is her’s not valuable?”
Grotkins snorted. “It’s valuable, but plant aspect spellhearts are a Dwarven Silver a dozen around here in the Hearthwood forest. Half the creatures living in the woods around here leave one when they die.”
I rolled the little black gem around in my hands, putting it on display. “How about a trade? This little thing here for six spellhearts of equivalent power from different elements?”
But Grotkins shook his head before even trying to haggle me down.
“I’m a hobgoblin. The locals have enough reason to hate me as it is. They’d be all over me the minute I bought something like that, even if I tried to trade it in immediately for the reward. If I showed up with this your local constables would just use it as an excuse to search my shop for more. And if they did that… well, I’d have to head off world sooner than I’d like. It wouldn’t be a good trade for me unless I had a buyer already lined up. And I don’t. Sorry, but no thanks. A few more years and I’ll have enough wealth to return to my home world for good. I don’t want to risk that.”
I shrugged. “Your loss.” I wasn’t going to offer it any cheaper now that I knew it was so valuable. If I traded it in for the local currency I’d have an easier time of buying whatever spellhearts I wanted. I mentioned this to Sava quietly and she agreed to stop by the constable’s office with me, so we could trade the thing in.
It didn’t take much longer for Grotkins and Sava to wrap up their earlier negotiations. Soon enough we were headed out the door. I still had to pull the cart along, which was now much fuller after Sava had added new glassware, blankets, a cauldron, and a pile of elvish clothes that could be adjusted to my size.
***
Things were going smoothly, and, in my mind, I was already debating which type of magic I’d most like to work with. I’d gotten Sava to agree to turning in the death spellheart for the reward, and she agreed. A goblin might not be able to turn it in, but it should be no problem for an elf. Originally, I had been thinking about purchasing as many as I could, but Sava shot that idea down. Apparently, it’s much better to buy a single high quality, larger spellheart than it is to buy lots of smaller ones. I realized that made sense. A single level four spell in video games would be far better than a half dozen level one cantrips.
Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by a harsh and rough voice. “Loose change? Please kind elf spare, some loose change?” A beggar held out a pot that had a few copper coins jingling around inside. She looked to be an elf, and back home she would have been considered barely above average in the looks department, but I’d learned from looking around town that all elves were incredibly attractive, so seeing one in this state probably meant wretchedness on the level of a disability among elves.
I shook my head, turning my left pocket inside out to prove there was nothing in it. I didn’t do the same with my right pocket because I didn’t want the spellheart to come spilling out. Her eyes lingered on that pocket.
I turned towards Sava, who also patted her empty pockets and shook her head. Ha, I’d seen her pocket some of Grotkin’s money not a minute ago. I guess she wasn’t feeling charitable. She grabbed me by the wrist and turned to pull me away from the beggar.
It turned out that Sava’s instinct was the right one. Without warning, the beggar woman lunged from her seated position.
“Then die, greedy goblin-lovers!” The elf shouted in her hoarse voice. Out of her sleeve she pulled out a rusty knife. Immediately I jerked back and held up my forearm to protect my face. Inwardly I cursed my ill-preparation. I should have gotten Sava to lend me a weapon. Perhaps that ironwood sword I’d been practicing with.
The woman didn’t lunge for my face though. Instead she slashed at my pocket with her knife, tearing it open with a loud ripping sound. Out of the slash spilled the death spellheart. The woman’s eye glimmered as she scooped it up off the ground and turned to sprint.
Oh hell no. I wasn’t about to take a setback like this because of an overly ambitious pickpocket. That little black spellheart was the only wealth of my own I had in this world, and I planned to trade it for magic powers.
“That’s mine!” I hollered even as I broke into a sprint. I was faster than I expected. More evidence that the zeal native to this place was still working to improve my body. The hood to my cloak flew backwards, but with a huge gash running along the entire cloak it was nearly useless as a disguise anyway.
The beggar dove behind a fruit stall and into a small alley. I grabbed at the collar of her shirt, but the fabric just tore away in my hands. I tossed the scrap of fabric aside in frustration and dove into the alley. I could hear Sava following me a few steps behind.
“Theo, don’t! They’ll see you!” She hissed in a panicked voice.
By all rights I should have caught her by then, but the alley was a little tight for my larger frame and so I had to turn sideways. On top of that, it seemed the beggar knew these back alleys, and I didn’t. I was only just able to keep her in site.
Finally, the alley widened. The beggar dove to the right.
“Boss! I got it! I knew I saw somebody flashing around a death spellheart inside that damnable dirty goblin’s shop!”
“Not so loud, ugly.” Apparently the ugly elf’s nickname was ugly. Elves in this world could be cruel.
The voice of the thief’s co-conspirator stopped me dead in my tracks. I was pissed, but I could sniff out a trap when it was thrown in my face. I dove into a small alcove by the exit to the alley. I peeked my head out a bit to get a visual on who’d just stolen my ticket to magical power in this world.
Most of them looked about what I expected from a street gang. Coarse woven cheap fabric and loose-fitting rags on all of them. Some clearly better dressed than the others. They were all elves, and all female elves by the look of it, though with the effeminate appearance of male elves it was hard to be certain. I wouldn’t be surprised though. According to Sava, male elves were far, far less common than female elves. Something about them not often surviving to adulthood.
The best dressed of the gangsters was just a hand shorter than me. This behemoth of an elven woman snatched the spellstone out of the beggar’s hands and held it up to the light. Then she turned to the final two people in the group who clearly different from the rest of this group. The pair of them were dressed in a combination of metal and cloth armor. It may have made up a uniform at one point, but if these were soldiers their uniforms would never have passed muster in its current state. Deserters maybe?
“One death spellheart, as promised.” The big elf said.
One of the armored elves reached for it “You certainly cut that one close. When you said you had one for us we assumed you already had the product in hand, not that you merely had an avenue for obtaining one.”
The gangster leader grimaced. “We had one, but that one’s not an option for us anymore. Thankfully, the Fortuna is on our side.”
Before the armored elf could take the spellheart the big elf pulled her hand back. “Not so fast there. Payment first.”
But as the armored elf frowned in response, the big elf’s head exploded in a viscous pale blue substance. Her body toppled to the ground as an acrid smell spread through the air.
I recognized the liquid as coming from the bottle that Sava always carried around her waist. Normally she used it as a magical solvent to extract the zeal from various plants, but she’d warned me to never let it touch my skin or it would extract the zeal from my flesh.
“Where’s... Theo!” Sava huffed angrily as she hefted a smaller, purple vial.
I analyzed
the blue goop dripping from the big elf.
Soul-devouring Purple Heart Poison
This poison consumes the victim’s heart and devours the soul. If left untreated, the victim will become a mindless undead monster.
Talk about overkill…
“Boss!” one of the gangsters cried out. The two armored elves each drew a sword and glanced warily at Sava. They stepped in between her a blond elf I hadn’t seen before now. The blond’s hair wasn’t a human tinge of blond, but something far shinier, as if her hair was made from metallic gold. Beyond that, she looked like a more refined version of the armored elves, who shared her hair color, though to varying lesser degrees. She had a white and blue dress on, with decorative embroidery that perfectly matched the shade of her hair. From her dress and the protectiveness of those two armored elves I gathered that the two armored elves were her bodyguards, and this was a meeting of two different groups. The big elf had been the leader of these gangsters, whereas the small blond was the leader of the smaller group with the armored warrior-looking elves.
The latter group seemed to be regaler than the others, with traces of uniforms and formal training. My guess was confirmed a moment later.
“Pull back with Lady Nela. I’ll cover our retreat.” The soldier crouched down to grab the spellheart, but Sava tossed a vial in her direction. Not the purple heart poison, since I doubted she had much of that left, but something that was no doubt dangerous to touch.
“That’s stolen property. You’ll be leaving it with me.” Sava said in a cold voice. “Now, I’ll ask one more time, where’s Theo!?”
“You stand in the presence of a Lady of the land, commoner! Hold your tongue before I remove it from your mouth.” The armored elf guard snarled.
Though the other elf had armor and a weapon, Sava met her opponent glare for glare, hefting a potion in one hand. Sava glared down at the slightly shorter swordswoman with an intensity I’d never seen from her before. Sava hefted another colored vial of potion in her hand, prepared to throw. The swordswoman glanced warily at the vial, no doubt wishing she had a shield.
Before Sava decided to do something stupid, I stepped out of the shadows.
“I’m right here, Sava.” I said as I waved from around the corner.
“Enough, Eriquin.” The blond hair-elf chided “We may have fallen on hard times, hard enough to consort with criminals, but we shall not become criminals ourselves.”
Eriquin glared at the two of us. “You are lucky my lady values our honor so.”
I disregarded what little remained of my cloak. Standing tall at my full height I was a bit more impressive. I took a breath and swelled up my chest a little to make myself look a bit tougher.
“Your lady made a wise decision.” I stated calmly while I noticed Sava waving her hand at me with a worried expression on her face.
Just as it seemed like I’d be able to get away without a fight, Lady Nela let out a whispered gasp of surprise.
“He’s... a chaka!”
I realized that every eye in the alley was on me.
Well there was no point in hiding it now. I didn’t fully understand the gender dynamics in elven society, but it seemed that elven men enjoyed a slightly elevated position. Chaka’s, like myself, seemed to be of even greater importance.
“That’s right. I’m not an elf. I’m human.”
Now everyone looked confused. Clearly, like Sava, they’d never heard the term before.
There was a groan from the ground. Startled, I realized the big elf who had been shot in the back of the head was getting up.
She groaned as she made her way to her feet. She reached behind her and wiped away the last of Sava’s potion, which had turned runny and transparent.
“Boss! You’re alive!” One of the gangsters exclaimed.
The big elf groaned inhumanly. She turned, making her face visible. Half was a pale white, the other was swollen and purple. I don’t know what it was, but an aura of death seemed to emanate from her.
“Undead.” The swordswoman hissed. “The constables will be here any moment.” She struck out with her sword, cutting off the zombie-elf’s head in a single swing. The corpse collapsed to the ground, where it twitched and groped around for its head. The swordswoman kicked the head away and impaled the zombie through the heard. That still didn’t kill it, but it did slow it down.
“I’ll kill you, damned Riverweed herbalist!” one of the gangsters snarled. She kicked at the rock with her toe. Instead of hurting herself, like I expected, a spike of rock shot up from the ground like a spear, flung at high speed towards Sava.
The green-haired herbalist sank into a squat faster than I could blink, ducking beneath the shard of stone.
“An earth aspect cultivator of the third level, I take it?” Sava said with a nod of respect. “I am a nature cultivator of the fifth level. The chaka is under the protection of the Riverweed tribe, and if you’re smart you’ll let him leave with me.”
The big elf regarded Sava with a dismissive gesture. “How strange. The Riverweed tribe has a chaka wander into their territory, and they just let him run off with a single guard? Not even a warrior by the looks of you, just an herbalist at the fifth level of zeal accumulation. No, I think you found this one yourself, and you thought you could keep him as your prize alone.”
I coughed. “Right here you know.” Though the compliment was appreciated. I’d never been the subject of much female attention back on Earth, and suddenly I had caught the eye of every elf here. Each of whom had the appearance of a young woman ranging from merely pretty on to stunningly beautiful on the parts of Sava and that blond girl, Lady Nela.
I struck a confident pose, for which all the lusty female attention was actually helping me. On the inside, I was quaking. Maybe I really had been far too bold. These elves moved inhumanly fast and used magic I couldn’t. I had taken down quite a few elves during my last clash with them, but at the end of it hadn’t I wound up on the edge of death?
I mustered my courage all the same. “Listen ladies, while I’d love to say there’s more than enough of me to go around, I’m here in town on business. No time for play unfortunately. And besides, I came here with Sava. It would be rude of me to accept another’s company when I came here with her.”
I gave them all a shallow bow and began my retreat out of the alley. Apparently, my polite refusal didn’t go down as well as I’d hoped, as I felt a firm hand clasp my shoulder. I guess elves don’t take well to being friend-zoned.
“Wait just a minute there. You’re not going anywhere.” It was the armored swordswoman who had traded glares with Sava.
I sighed aloud. “This world seems to be a world technologically similar to the middle ages. I would have thought chivalry would be a thing. As a result, I have thus far refrained from striking a lady. But where I come from we have something called equality. And that means I can do this!”
I spun around in a sudden motion, catching the big gangster off guard. My fist collided with her lower jaw. Her eyes widened as my fist hit her chin, knocking it to the side. Then her feet left the ground and she landed on her back six paces away.
I glanced at my hand, surprised at my own strength. Based on my tests with Sava’s ironwood sword I knew become a cultivator had made me faster and stronger than before. Everyone else however, was shocked. Even Sava was glancing between me and the big thug in surprise. Lady Nela’s expression shifted into a creepy smile.
“As expected of a chaka.” Lady Nela laughed. “Even without having bound a spellheart, your native vitality makes you more than a match for the fourth level of zeal accumulation.”
“Now that we have that settled, I’ll be going. Come Sava, we need to make it to the constable’s office before they close.”
“Wait!” I turned, worried that the gang leader was coming back for seconds, but she was still on the ground looking up at me with a mixture of fear and confusion.
“I’m Nela Songstone.
Only a year ago I was daughter and heir to the mighty Songstone clan. Though little remains of my once great clan, I still have friends and resources across the kingdom and even beyond. I’d like to invite you to... visit for a while. I have exotic wines you could try, and my servants will see to your every need.”
So, the blond girl was from some sort of fallen clan. More stuff for me to research. Clearly, she was trying to tempt me to her side with luxury. I was almost tempted to accept. Additional resources were always helpful.
But that smile on her face was just a tab bit too creepy. Besides, I could never picture myself as a gold digger.
“We’ll talk some other time.” I turned, and without leaving time for any more delays I turned my back, grabbed Sava’s hand, and left the way we had come. I’d only just gotten myself comfortable with Sava, and I had no desire to go back to being someone’s prisoner. Sure, this Lady Nela might give me creature comforts, but I didn’t fancy myself as able to talk my way to seduce a second time.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sava lent me most of what little clothing she was wearing to help reassemble my disguise. She was now walking around in what amounted to a bikini and traveling boots. Not that I minded. Sava was smoking hot.
It didn’t seem to attract the notice of anybody else either. Apparently, there were no taboos against showing off your body among elves. It was probably because there were so few elvish men. It’s not like women here needed to worry about lustful male gazes when there wasn’t a single man around.
Zeal of the Mind and Flesh Page 13
