Chapter 301 - A Rare Gift (Patreon)

Zeke had long known that the Framework granted some ability to understand foreign languages. He’d first encountered it in the troll caves when the warlord had accused him of being a child killer – which was actually fairly accurate, if not the entire story. It was difficult to feel bad about killing infant trolls when said babies attacked on sight and had come close to killing him a couple of times. In any case, the fact that he’d been capable of understanding the warlord meant that the Framework was doing some heavy lifting when it came to translation. And that fact had been hammered home numerous times since Zeke had been reborn.

So, he felt confident that he and the kobold legionnaire would be able to communicate, which was a key part of his plans going forward. During his first encounter with the kobolds, Zeke had fallen into the trap of considering them to be monsters. Largely, this was due to their appearance, but he’d since come to realize that they were sapient creatures with a society all their own. And he hoped to use that to his advantage.

First, though, he needed to wrangle the kobold legionnaire into the tower and force it to listen to him – not an easy feat, considering the way they’d met. Still, Zeke held out hope that he could bridge the gap and engage in some mutually beneficial diplomatic relations. So, he directed his trio of golems to follow him as he and Jasper set off toward the plaza. Along the way, the legionnaire continued to struggle, but its strength was no match for the golems’. As a result, as valiantly as it resisted, the creature had little say in where it went.

Finally, Zeke turned to his prisoner and said, “Stop. I know you can understand me. If you quit struggling, I’ll make sure you’re healed. That sound good?” The legionnaire nodded, and Zeke said, “Good. Because you’re no good to me otherwise.”

The implication was clear. If the legionnaire continued to struggle, Zeke would just kill it.

“I…am…male.”

Zeke narrowed his eyes upon hearing the kobold’s voice. It was curiously high-pitched, with just a hint of a hiss at the end of each word. Appropriate, given the thing’s lizard-like appearance. He responded, “Fair enough.”

“I trust that you are aware of how many things can go wrong with trying to take such a prisoner?” interjected Jasper.

“I do,” Zeke said. “I’ll keep the golems out, though. That should keep our friend from getting any ideas.”

“Very well.”

As they strode forward, Zeke asked, “So, I know of two of your skills. What else can you do?”

“Uh…”

“What?”

“That is…asking a gentleman to describe his skills is highly unusual,” he stated. “In some cultures, such a question would be enough to incite an honor duel. In others, it would be met with outright hostility and brutal violence.”

“Oh,” Zeke said. “And your culture?”

Jasper flashed a winning smile, saying, “Dark elves are a bit more civilized than that. We might take offense, but our weapons are usually social rather than martial. You needn’t worry about me, though. Among my people, I am widely considered to be an uncouth and backwards savage. I count it a mark of honor.”

“Ah. There’s a story there, I bet.”

“There is,” agreed Jasper. “But we are not so close, my friend. Perhaps I will tell you the whole story sometime in the future. For now, though, I will answer your question. You felt two of my skills. The first is called [Ballad of the Brave], and it increases the rate of mana absorption as well as fills the recipients with courage.”

“It’s mind control?” Zeke asked.

“Not as such,” Jasper answered. “It would be more appropriate to compare it to an inspiring speech. The effect does not truly make anyone more effective, but a bit of courage can go a long way in battle.”

Zeke could agree with that. He didn’t often find himself beset by fear – he’d long come to grips with his mortality, and he no longer feared death. However, he’d participated in a couple of large scale battles, and he’d seen the effects of fear on common soldiers. With Jasper around, a commander wouldn’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

As far as the mana regeneration portion of the skill, he found that much more attractive, and he was eager to test it out. Not that he habitually touched the bottom of his mana pool, of course, but he was abnormal in that respect.

“What else do you have?” Zeke asked.

“I have a skill called [Rhythm of the March] which increases footspeed, [Dissonance] which is an aural attack, and [Dirge of the Seasons], which increases my allies’ resistances to the four natural elements.”

“Which are?” Zeke asked.

Jasper cut his eyes at him, clearly surprised at Zeke’s ignorance, but he barely skipped a beat before saying, “Fire, earth, water, and ice.”

“Ah,” he said. “That makes sense.”

Of course, it really didn’t. Ice and fire were easy; they clearly represented summer and winter. Water probably coincided with spring. But earth? What did that have to do with autumn? Still, he didn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, Zeke asked, “Anything else?”

“I have a skill called [Troubadour’s Lament] that can slow an enemy by decreasing their agility,” he explained. “I rarely use it, though.”

“No? Why?” Zeke asked. It sounded like an incredibly useful skill.

“It requires me to sing,” the dark elf stated. “Plus, with my last skill, called [Accelerating Crescendo], it is mostly unnecessary.”

“I’m guessing that increases your agility,” Zeke said.

“Indeed. Regrettably, I can only use two skills at any given time,” Jasper answered. “I feel confident in increasing that capability, but it will not be soon.”

“What’s the issue?” Zeke asked. He could use as many skills as he wanted to use, so the limitation seemed strange to him.

“The {Troubadour} class is somewhat unique,” Jasper explained. “Or rather, the bardic archetype is. In any case, there is a performative requirement for each of our skills. With everything but [Troubadour’s Lament], I can get by with humming or tapping a basic rhythm. Still, every bardic skill requires a similar action, and I regret that I have not progressed far enough along my path to employ more than two such actions at any given time.”

“Ah. That makes sense, I guess.”

“Does it? I feel as if I could…twist things in such a way as to employ multiple skills in quick succession,” Jasper mused. “The effects have a minimum duration, but if I could switch actions quickly enough, I believe I could utilize up to four skills at once. That is where my path comes in. With an application of enough potent Will, I may be able to stretch that number even further. I could effectively mimic an entire symphony!”

Zeke was taken aback by Jasper’s excitement, but he managed to say, “Well, if you need help with it, let me know. I’ll do what I can.”

Jasper looked like he was about to respond when they reached the plaza and Zeke summoned his tower. Instantly, the huge structure appeared, towering over them. It looked no different than it had the last time Zeke saw it, but still, he couldn’t help but look upon it in awe. Even after years of living in a land of magic, he often still found its existence surprising.

“I will never grow accustomed to that,” Jasper said. “Is it bigger now?”

“Oh, a lot more has changed since last time you saw it,” Zeke said, smiling broadly as he walked toward the gate, which automatically retracted when he drew near. As he mounted the ramp, the door dissolved, and he stepped through, followed closely by Jasper as well as the three golems and the prisoner held in their clutches. For his part, the kobold looked terrified.

And rightly so. It might have been a world of magic, but Zeke had to believe the tower was somewhat unique. Once they were inside, Jasper let out a gasp of surprise. For once, he seemed lost for words.

Zeke said, “Come on. I want to get the kobold healed up, and then we can talk about what’s going to happen.”

That was true enough, but Zeke had ulterior motives. For one, he was keeping track of how long he could keep his golems summoned. So far, he’d barely dipped into his reserves, but he’d also noticed that the amount of mana the skill used was dictated by the golems’ activity level. During the short fight, the rate of their mana consumption was rapid; however, when all they had to do was keep the prisoner subdued, it was much more conservative. However, even if they were completely stationary, there seemed to be a minimum drain, and even that would eventually drain him dry of mana.

In addition, he was eager to test the healing powers of the Crimson Spring. One day, he might need to make a decision on whether or not to depend on it or seek outside help, and he needed to know where its limits lay. To that end, he intended to make good on his promise to heal the kobold.

Zeke led the group through the huge lobby and to the raised dais where the teleporter took them to the Crimson Spring. As they underwent the transportation, Zeke noted that he had the ability to refuse passage. How he knew it, he wasn’t sure, but the knowledge was there all the same. He could only chalk it up to the unique nature of the tower.

Meanwhile, Jasper stared around in awe while the kobold beheld his surroundings with outright fear. He even hesitated before stepping into the spring itself, but that only lasted for a few seconds before he realized that he didn’t have much choice in the matter. So, it was with a certain resignation that he submerged himself up to his neck.

Immediately, the kobold hissed in surprise, then said, “Heals?”

“It does,” Zeke said. “Tell me when your shoulder feels better.”

As it turned out, it took almost three hours for the spring to work its magic. For Zeke, whose body had been continuously rebuilt by [Metallurgical Repair], it seemed a bit slow. However, it didn’t take him long before he saw just how useful it would be for anyone who didn’t have a self-healing skill on par with his own.

In addition, he couldn’t help but wonder what someone like Tucker could do with access to the water? What secrets could he unearth? What kinds of incredible potions could he brew with that water as a base? Not for the first time, Zeke wished he’d had the presence of mind to include the alchemist in his [Mark of Companionship]. But he couldn’t go back in time and prevent the oversight. Instead, he could only hope that their paths crossed sometime in the future. If he knew Tucker like he thought he did, then that day would come sooner rather than later.

Once the kobold was healed, Zeke took the group to his manor. The huge lizard creature looked entirely out of place in the well-manicured grounds, but Jasper seemed perfectly at home. Personal idiosyncrasies aside, Zeke had a goal in mind, and once they were settled within one of the manor’s many rooms, he addressed that purpose.

“I brought you here for a reason,” he said, addressing the kobold. The creature was too big for the furniture, so he sat on the floor. “Do you know what that reason is?”

The kobold shook his head, but he didn’t verbalize an answer. So, Zeke went on, “I want allies. Your people are natives to this mountain, right?”

“For thousands of years,” the kobold clarified. “The dwarves push us down.”

So, it was as Zeke had suspected. There was no love lost between the two races, and if he had to guess, the kobolds had been there first. Over the next few minutes, he confirmed as much, which boded well for his plan.

“I’m going to leave this place soon,” he said. “When I do, I’m going to kill a lot of dwarves. If you and your people attack at the same time, you may be able to push them out and retake the mountain.”

“No.”

“No?” Zeke asked.

“No.”

“Why not?” he asked, a little surprised. Given their propensity to attack any dwarves – or slaves – who ventured too far into the mines, attacking the dwarven city seemed to be exactly what they wanted.

“We go with you,” the kobold stated.

“W-what?” Zeke asked.

“You have city. We need home. Mountain not safe. We go with you.”

“But…but I don’t…”

Zeke didn’t have the words to express his thoughts. On the one hand, it would be incredibly useful having a group of kobolds at his beck and call. Indeed, the creatures had proven to be powerful warriors, and he felt certain that he’d only seen the tip of the proverbial iceberg. There were almost assuredly stronger members among the tribe.

But on the other hand, he had no interest in being responsible for so many people. He could barely take care of himself, much less…however many kobolds there were.

He asked, “How many in your tribe?”

“Not many.”

“Oh, thank God,” Zeke sighed.

“Only many thousands.”

“Oh, God,” Zeke groaned.

“You are God?” asked the kobold.

Showing only a little of the exasperation he felt, he ran his hand through his hair and said, “No. It’s not…it’s just an expression. Ignore it.”

“Obedience,” was the kobold’s response.

Zeke couldn’t keep a grimace from spreading across his face, and to make matters worse, he saw Jasper out of the corner of his eye; the dark elf was trying his best not to laugh.

“Fine. Okay,” Zeke said. “Where are your people? And what kind of accommodations do you need? Also, what’s your name?”

“I am Silik,” the kobold announced. “I have killed many dwarves.”

Zeke knew he was going to regret asking, but still, he couldn’t help himself. “How many?” he asked.

The kobold held up three claws, then slapped his scaly chest and said, “Mighty legionnaire.”

Zeke sighed. “I’m sure you are, buddy.”

Of all the outcomes he’d expected when coming down to the First City to test his new skill, Zeke had to admit that he hadn’t anticipated that he would end up adopting a tribe of sapient lizard people. That it had happened just proved that he really needed to adjust his mindset if he was going to get a handle on how things worked in the Eternal Realm.

“You are truly an inspiration, my friend,” said Jasper, unable to contain his laughter as he slapped Zeke on the shoulder. “Turning enemies to allies – a rare gift indeed.”

“Yay,” was Zeke’s only response. He had a feeling that, although he’d just gained a veritable army, he’d gained even more headaches.