Amazon Apocalypse 2: Chapter 15 (Patreon)

We turned out to be just where I feared we were—the Samhain Matriarch’s dungeon. And not the one for torturing prisoners. Based on her cheery mood, this seemed to be her happy place. She acted like a kid in her playroom.

Apparently, Myrina’s mother was into exactly the things one might expect of the powerful matriarch of an Amazonian Clan. I suppose now I knew why she'd stayed behind to rule her ancestral clan, while her sisters in the rest of the Samhain Clan's main branch had gone off and gotten married. It was safe to say that she intended to take the man's usual role in any relationship she was part of.

Thankfully, Myrina untied me before her mother could make too many jokes about testing her other toys. Soon, I was on my feet again. The moment I climbed to my feet, though, I regretted it.

The world no longer spun. It pounded. Every step felt like someone had climbed inside my skull and was trying to break their way out with a hammer—a very big hammer. I clutched my temples.

“Ha! Looks like you drank a bit too much,” Kyrina laughed. “Ah, well. Next time, you’ll know your limits better, right?”

I struggled not to glare at her while she looked down at me with a smug smile. She was conveniently leaving out the fact that she’d been the one to pour me an enormous horn of ale.

“Get him a hangover potion. We need him in top form for our dungeon dive today!” Myrina said.

Today?

That meant I’d been blackout drunk for pretty much the entire night. Inwardly, I swore to myself that I’d never drink again.

Cyra reached into her back pocket, already having a hangover cure potion prepared.

I snatched the potion immediately and downed its entire contents.

You drank a Hangover Cure potion.

Your headache has lessened.

Your potion sickness has worsened.

You have taken damage from the Hangover Cure potion.

“Ah crap,” I muttered, then explained the Potion Sickness notification to them, wiping some blood from my lips.

I’d guessed there had to be a drawback to pounding one mana potion after another. If not, there would be little point dumping stat points into Intelligence. There would have been little need for a large mana pool, if a spellcasters could simply chug potion after potion to bolster their regeneration to the point it was no longer needed.

“Sorry. I wouldn’t have given you the Hangover Cure if I’d known.” Cyra rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

“Don’t be. That headache hurt a lot more than the damage I’m taking now. I’m using one of my abilities to regenerate from the damage. I’ll be fine in a few minutes and no longer suffering from a hangover to boot.”

I flashed her a smile, but then turned back to Kyrina, who rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

“Hmm… potion sickness is harder to solve. From what I’ve heard, there’s no cure besides getting the blood pumping and working it off,” Kyrina said.

Inwardly I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do at this moment was have Cyra or Myrina—and probably both at once—drag me out to the arena for exercises or training.

“I know. How about you two go on a little mission for me? It will give Carter a chance to stretch his legs and hopefully shake off that potion sickness before you head into the dungeon.”

“What kind of mission?” Myrina asked.

“A mission for these…” Kyrina reached into a pouch behind her and produced one of my Mana Bombs, holding it reverently in her palm.

“The explody things! I saw those. Where’d you get them, mom?” Cyra asked. “Did you have them tucked away in the armory for our moment of need? Did one of the ancestors pick them up while adventuring?”

Kyrina’s eyes glittered. “Not so. They’re a recent acquisition. They appeared in the auction house just yesterday. I got this one from a guard who attended and purchased a lot of five, hoping they would be useful in fighting the Shadefall Clan’s specters. And as it happened, the guard was right. Despite their low level, these devices are incredibly effective against all ghost-type monsters and summons. Which is exactly what we need to turn the tides of this war.”

Cyra rubbed her hands together, and Myrina’s expression turned bright.

I stood a little straighter in my chair with a smirk on my face. I’d let Kyrina finish complimenting my brilliant invention, then reveal that the man who made them was right in front of her. I’d already won her favor, now I’d win her over completely.

This was fantastic!

“We need the one who made this," Kyrina began. "Honestly, I can’t tell if it’s runesmithing or enchanting. It almost looks like parts of each. Whoever made them, they’re a lifeline our clan desperately needs.”

Myrina nodded. “Okay. So we track down whoever crafted them and offer them a lucrative contract?”

But Kyrina shook her head. “If they were merely a skilled enchanter or runesmith, we’d do just that. But remember what happened to all our existing enchanters and runesmiths at the start of this war?”

Cyra shook her head sadly. “All of them had their throats slit in the middle of the night. And our armories were burned to the ground.”

“Exactly so. Whoever this crafter is, we must immediately place them under our protection,” the matriarch continued.

“And we can’t take the risk of negotiating. We know there was at least one spy in the city; there are probably several more. We need to hunt down this crafter and lock them away in the castle!” Cyra exclaimed.

Her mother nodded. “Once they’re safe, we can negotiate with them for more of these mana bombs. But we will be getting more of them, one way or another…” Kyrina laughed, and this time, the laugh carried dark undertones that made the words I was about to speak catch in my throat.

Less fantastic.

I couldn’t let myself become a prisoner here in Myrina’s home. Her family seemed nice enough, but I wasn’t here to be locked away in some castle room crafting mana bombs day after day. While my Job might benefit from a long stay behind bars, the same wasn’t true for my Class. Or my companions back on earth. Or Crownhill, for that matter.

I bit my tongue. Suddenly, I had a bit of a dilemma on my hands. Did I tell Myrina’s family that I was the one who made the mana bombs?

If I did, they would likely prevent me from risking myself on a dungeon dive with Myrina and Cyra later on today. That would stifle my growth and ruin the whole point of this tutorial.

And based on what Myrina had said, I would return to Earth sooner or later, called back to my world through the power of the System. After all, it didn’t let go of important individuals from newly integrated realms so easily.

And so if I spoke up now, I would waste my best shot at learning how the Arcadia Multiverse worked and collecting a whole arsenal’s worth of unique items, skills, and knowledge to bring back with me, in exchange for what might wind up as a few job levels.

Or perhaps not even that. The hardest part about making new mana bombs would be creating the wire mesh they were made from. It had been easy for me, because on Earth there was plenty of machine-made copper wire.

But here? Where blacksmiths worked with an open fire, a hammer, and an anvil? I’d probably be expected to make the wire myself.

How did someone even make wire by hand? I imagined a long process of pounding and pulling. How would the Samhain Clan react to knowing how long it might take me to produce something usable?

And while I might have won the favor of Myrina’s mother, the Samhain Clan was still a faction at war. And she didn’t even have total control over her clan. Though I'd gained her lesser mark, she'd made it clear that neither the Elders nor the ancestors cared much for me.

Though I wanted to help them, I didn’t want to do it as a virtual prisoner. And giving away too much right now meant that was exactly what I'd become. I'd lose my freedom, and with it, my opportunity to build my own powerbase. Once I’d done that, I could treat with Myrina and the Samhain Clan on my own terms.

There had to be an alternative solution I wasn’t seeing. I grimaced inwardly. I’d already kept my mouth shut since I’d arrived. I could keep it shut a little longer while I thought things over.

Before I knew it, we were back at the auction house.

“Let’s split up,” Cyra ordered. “I’ll talk to the auctioneer. Myrina will talk to the attendant. Carter, see if any of the assistants know anything.”

I nodded along, and pretty soon, I was standing face to face with the assistant I’d sold my mana bombs to.

“Hello again,” the assistant greeted me. “I see you and your companions are in quite a rush. Are you here to sell more of those mana bombs? They sold much higher than appraised, and I’m allowed to raise your cut of the proceeds to sixty percent.”

I glanced back at Myrina and Cyra, who were each gesticulating animatedly as they spoke to their respective targets. Both women they spoke to, however, simply shrugged after each of their questions.

Little did Cyra and Myrina know the person who could answer their questions was right here, in front of me.

“Do you have somewhere more private we could talk?” I asked her.

She nodded. “The booth where I assessed your items before. Some wish to sell their items discretely. Especially those obtained through battle and taken by the right of conquest. Come.”

She led, and I followed. When she drew the curtains shut, the noise from outside grew dim.

“Now, what is it you wanted? Do you have more items to sell?” the assistant asked.

“First off, I didn’t get your name before. I suspect I’ll need it going forward.”

“Misa,” the assistant replied. “My aunt inherited this establishment last year from my grandmother. Originally, it was supposed to go to my mother, but… well…” Misa shrugged helplessly, and I sensed there was more to the story there.

But I had pressing matters to attend to. “Listen, Misa, I would like the two of us to come to an arrangement. You see, it turns out those Mana Bombs are a great deal more valuable than either you or I knew. And I’d like to get them into the hands of the Samhain Clan, though I’d like to do so discreetly.”

“We value our customers’ privacy here at the auction house,” Misa assured me. “Unless, of course, the local ruling clan comes looking for whoever made a certain item that is in high demand. Which, based on what I hear outside, seems to be exactly what is happening. I take it you don’t wish for me to reveal your identity to your companions?”

“Not at this current time, no. I have a lot to do and can’t afford to be stuffed away in a dungeon, making mana bombs for them. And I doubt I’d be able to make many more of them, even if I was. The resources available here aren’t what I’m used to. So, in exchange for your discretion, I’d like to make you an offer.”

Misa eyed me suspiciously. “What kind of offer?”

“The kind that gives you a cut of everything I sell. Mana bombs, and eventually… more. You could end up making quite a bit of coin. A lot of that would go to me, of course, but I’m willing to share if it will keep your lips sealed. I know you offered me sixty percent of the sale price. If you list the items yourself, what cut would you get?”

Misa tapped a finger to her lips. “You’re asking me to be your agent? This is quite exciting. My cousins have always taken on private clients and rarely need to tend to booths for their wages. As for my rates, as a member of the family that owns this establishment, I pay no listing fee at all. We would split all the money we make between us, me and you, assuming we have a deal?”

Misa’s eyes glittered with a spark of greed, and I knew I had her. Asking for her silence would have bought me little, but the promise of nigh-infinite riches if I were to supply her with magical items, gave her an incentive to keep my secret to herself.

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would work—for now. Perhaps I’d come clean to my companions in the Samhain Clan, preferably when I’d either earned their clan’s full support or I’d secured enough bargaining power that telling them wouldn’t cost me my freedom. I left the auction house quite pleased with myself.

Myrina and Cyra couldn’t say the same.

“Damn it! Nobody had a clue,” Cyra cursed. “This search is going to take longer than I thought.”

“Apparently, whoever sold those Mana Bombs sold them to the auction house just before the auction began. Carter and I probably walked right by them! They could have been sitting in the stands nearby the whole time,” Myrina all but shouted as she waved her hands. “I would have guessed the spy from the Shadefall Clan sold them, but her job is not compatible with them,” Myrina growled, her hands balling into fists.

“Quite the mystery…” I admitted, chuckling. “But some good should come of this, right? After all, if it’s tough for you to discover who is making and selling these mana bombs, it should be even tougher for the Shadefall Clan to figure it out.”

“It makes me worry that we’ll never see those items again though. You saw how much mother liked them…” Cyra muttered.

I smiled. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. I’m sure whoever made them will sell many more of them before you know it.”

After that, I made sure we paid the wizard a street down a visit, as well. I figured it would be significantly harder to convince him to keep quiet, but the opposite was true.

“There you are lad. I’ve meant to ask you about that trinket you sold me,” said the wizard.

“I meant to talk to you about the same thing,” I replied, “but you first.”

“While the enchantment work was fairly rudimentary, my clients have been curious about the wire used to make it. It’s perfectly smooth and without flaw! What smith did you commission to craft such a thing? Many an enchanter would love to get their hands on a supply of that stuff.” The wizard shook his head in wonder.

“That?” I shrugged. “It’s from my home world. I’m afraid until our integration is complete, you’ll be hard-pressed to get more of it. But I can bring some with me the next time I come to visit the Samhain Clan.”

The wizard’s eyes lit up with glee. “Truly? You can get more of it? And—more importantly—you can get some for me to sell to my clients?”

“I can indeed. But you’ll have to keep our business connection a secret. Rare materials and crafts the kind I am making will make waves—especially with the war the Samhain Clan is fighting against the Shadefall Clan.”

The wizard stroked his beard. “Yes… I see… they wouldn’t be too happy about someone bypassing their embargo on selling magical goods to or through the Samhain Clan. If you can get me more of that magnificent wire, my lips are sealed.”

He held out his hand, and I shook it.

With both potential leaks sealed, I returned to speak with Myrina and Cyra who had waited outside. They had considerably less success on their respective missions. I had to feign defeat as well while in their company.

We returned from our quest in defeat. Myrina’s mother promised to send more people after the mysterious mana bomb maker. I was actually pleased she’d continue to investigate. It meant the Samhain Clan was more likely to catch my trail than anyone else. I had an ear to the ground in the Samhain Clan, so I’d know when they started catching on to me and could adjust course accordingly.

The same couldn’t be said of the Shadefall Clan. With them, I could go from minding my own business to being assassinated in the blink of an eye—not that they wouldn’t already be trying to assassinate me, given how I’d helped bring down their agent in the city.

I wasn’t sure how long I could keep Myrina and her family in the dark, but I was still wary of depending on them too much. After hearing what had happened to Cyra’s former boyfriend, I worried about what the future might entail should I linger too long in Myrina’s company without first establishing my own power base.

<Note>

So the question has come up twice now"why didn't Carter tell Myrina about the Mana Bombs?"

He has a plan!

And that plan will culminate in something much more awesome than just a shocked and impressed face from Myrina! Just you wait!

I've got to blue-ball you for a bit here, but it'll be worth it in the end.