Chapter 149 (Patreon)

Chapter 149

The Elysium altar’s general system store was… overpriced, to say the least.  Its options were also low quality, but at least it gave vast amounts of them.  Even the basics were in high demand concerning their little necropolis kingdom, with dozens upon dozens of adventuring guilds or mercenary groups taking up government-posted contracts to cull beasts in the area or scout out resources of interests like unholy herbs and ores.  There were even system-sponsored quests for such things too that could be picked up at the altar.  This meant Riven’s altar and Brightsville in turn had become a major, major trading hub in the area.  There were even a couple orcs, humans and goblins exchanging their pillar affinities for the Unholy Foundational Pillar as well as randomized subpillars, which in large part reset what people could take in terms of classes, and it was a very popular choice due to the unholy attuned environments in this area giving people bonuses to leveling and dao insights for the unholy brands.

Touching one hand against the obsidian spire in the middle of the now expansive trading hub, where people from Brightsville, Milwaukee, Chicago, Rockford, Deepnest, and Dawn’s northernmost town of Bradshire all intermixed with one another.  That didn’t even include the vampiric host of the Blood Moon Requiem, who’d opened their metaphorical doors to the budding kingdom with items as dirt cheap as the system would allow while simultaneously avoiding consequences; done as a desperate attempt on Kathrine Vonsilla Crushada the 9th’s part to make amends with the Thane siblings.  It also didn’t include the various jabob demons, gargoyles, and other hellscape creatures that were found in or around the large tent Dungeon Negrada had set up.

“This stuff is all so expensive…” Riven heard some poor sod from Bradshire mutter under his breath while touching the central altar's spire to access the general store.  The young man glanced his way and abruptly paled when seeing Riven looking back at him, then quickly scurried away without having bought anything.

Others, such as various undead, orcs, a few of the smarter goblins, and the Earth-born humans were all scrolling through their own screens that’d been displayed on the obsidian monument like individual computers that they and others could view.  Watching the rows upon rows of people waiting in line in order to access the system store was rather interesting - with many of the people here undertaking transactions by mentally selecting items, the system removing coins on the person, and then with the system depositing whatever items the person bought.  Usually this was either low tier adventuring combat gear for almost any or all classes, unique items like bonded pets, ability tomes or scrolls, information missives, tools, crafting materials, and foodstuffs - which is what Riven had primarily used it for in order to secure vast amounts of food for the growing empire.

In fact, after learning that Chicago was in dire need, Riven had nearly spent all of his massive fortune from culling the Azag swarms and clearing the dungeon he’d saved Hakim from.  Tons upon tons of preserved food rations, seeds for planting, and even livestock had whittled away at Riven’s funds until only a small pile of money remained from his once grand-standing mountain of wealth.

[Eysium Coins: 1,253,508]

Riven groaned internally when he saw just how far it’d fallen within his spatial bag.  To a normal person, over a million coins would have been enough to be considered rich.  But for him, after his recent batles, he’d capped out at over 80 million.

“The price of a bleeding heart!” Athela said with a wink, and laughing when he glared her way.  “What!?  It’s true!  If you’d just let all these people starve, you’d have been able to buy all kinds of neat stuff!”

Despite what Athela was saying, Riven could see his efforts had been appreciated - and they’d been widely publicized due to his sister’s efforts.  Everyone here knew just how much he’d spent to feed the cities they controlled, how much he’d invested in planting crops for the next year, and if he’d been hailed a hero in Chicago before all this - pretty much everyone who lived under the umbrella of their empire had a deep-set respect for him that also bordered on awe or fear.  By now the world forums had been blasting Riven’s fight across Panu, and it was a known thing in the necropolis that he was a Paragon - and that he was also involved in one of the major world quests.  The power display had been impressive, to say the least, and would no doubt act as a nuclear deterrent to some while quickly garnering attention from leaders and diplomats in other startup nations around here like flies to shit.  Their intelligence gathering wasn’t perfect, and the political landscape around Brightsville’s area of influence was heavily contested across multiple areas with multiple different wars going on, but nothing very solid had come up other than a few major outliers like Dawn, Tereen, or the bordering nation on their conflict that was still deciding who to support if anyone at all.

What were their names again?

Riven couldn’t remember.  He’d even talked to their diplomat over dinner, yet for the life of him he couldn’t bring himself to really care when so many other more important subjects were on the table.  He'd leave the politics to Allie.

Riven shook his head and focused, and he continued to scroll through the lists of equipment he was going over in preparation for the journey into unknown lands.  He was going to go hunt down those other artifact pieces, and he had to be prepared for anything.  It was obvious, especially after his fights against both the assassin in the hospital basement and the heretic, that these people in Chalgathi’s trails were another level of dangerous.  Even for someone like him - it was nothing to scoff at, and there was a good chance that many of them would give him a run for his money.

“There’s nothing in the general store that interests me beyond the healing, stamina and mana potions we got.”  Riven muttered, letting his hand drop and dismissing the screen from the obsidian face of the altar.

He ignored the frequent stares or hushed whispers directed his way from the crowds around him, nodding to Azmoth and snapping his fingers to get Fay’s attention.  “Find anything good?  Or should we make a stop nearby and then head over to the communes?”

Riven gestured over to where three buildings stood inbetween the two trade communes.  They each belonged to prominent adventuring groups, one comprised mostly of orc warriors and some undead mages, while the second was mostly made up of humans from Brightsville.  Both of these guilds had their own startup crafting sects, and these parts of the guild had set up shop here on the Elysium Altar’s grounds after having been given permission by Allie to do so.  The third building was actually a ragtag collection of ratkin from deepnest, who had been able to create a hill full of caves and interior rooms like the ones Riven had seen in the underground city weeks ago.

From what Riven had heard, the prices were far better at the native stores when compared to anything you could find in the communes of Negrada and the Blood Moon Requiem - and they were WAY cheaper than anything from the general store.  So it was always in one’s best interest to check out the locals first, due to the taxation practices and price hikes the system enforced on outsiders or its own wares.  The problem was that Riven highly doubted these locals had anything of value for someone like him, as most of them were below level 25 and he was now level 68, so until people started to catch up he’d most likely focus his time in the trade communes from offworld.

Fay grunted her acknowledgement and flapped her wings in irritation.  “There’s only bad quality stuff here and it’s all way more pricey than it should be!  How can the system produce these ridiculous prices?!”

“First time at an altar?  I’d thought you’d known.” Athela mused with a grin, and the three of them started off in Azmoth’s direction.

The large demon he stood stoically with two hands resting above the crowd on the large stone shaft of his infernal maul, and people didn’t dare get near him lest he flare up with heat - giving himself a wide berth from the otherwise packed crowd as his master and the two other demons approached.  Beside him and bound to one of his large wrists was Genua - who’d been more or less voluntold she’d be coming along as Riven’s private set of meals on wheels.  The elf was outwardly terrified, her blue-green eyes darting around and sweat visible on her forehead that she continued to dab at.

Azmoth snorted.  “Did find goods?”

“Just some basic mana, health and stamina potions.  Everything else was either sub-par or priced so god damned high it would have hurt my soul to buy them.”

“Ok.  Negrada has good stuffs.  We go there next, ok?”

Riven glanced towards Genua - who was nervously fidgeting in a tattered robe and scratching at her neck where the iron collar kept her shackled.  Then he looked up at the large demon with furrowed brows,.  “You went to check it out earlier?”

Azmoth nodded.  “They make special gear for us to buy.  You want outfit us three demons, yes?”

Riven nodded.  “Yeah, that’s right.  The goal here is to get each of you new equipment, traveling supplies, and some new abilities for the way out.  Whatever I can buy with what I have left.”

“Uh… Uhmm… Master?” Genua asked almost as a whisper while raising a hand to get his attention.  “Are you really taking me along?  I believe I’d be better suited here as a maid in your household…”

“Yes, you’re coming.” Riven stated flatly.  “You’re the one I’m going to be feeding on as I travel around.”

“But-”

“But nothing.  You don’t get to choose anymore, be happy that you’re even alive right now.  Be happy that I let you see your daughter before we leave.  Other than that, be quiet unless spoken to.”

Genua paled, then let out a shuddering breath to calm herself.  “Alright.  Will I be able to see Len again when we get back?”

“What did Riven just say about being quiet?” Athela hissed, yanking on Genua’s long blonde hair and causing the woman to yelp.  “Speak only when spoken to, Sandwich, because we’re definitely not bringing you along for the company.”

***

The tent Negrada had supplied for its tier 1 trade commune was spatially enhanced when you got inside.  There was far more room within than should have been possible, with multiple floors of wooden stockades or platforms underneath the red roof.  Locals bartered with many of the red-skinned, three-eyed jabob demon merchants who were rather shrewd in their dealings - and the peace was kept intact by armored gargoyles who’d throw any rowdy customers out.  Hundreds of people were inside, with booths, stalls and elevated walkways leading up to the more grand stuff overhead.

“Prince Thane!  Or should I call you Prince Wraithtide of the Blood Moon Requiem, eh!?” The excited and shifty voice of the demon Fred called out from up above, making Riven and many of the others look or pay attention to the one shouting and the one being shouted at.

Above them and on a huge third story platform was the old red-skinned jabob demon Fred.  He had a white long beard, was robed in purple, and kept a gnarled staff with a slight hunch.  This was the head of the trading commune here on Panu, and beside him peering over the edge was his assistant and the head identifier - Zelmont, the handsome orange incubus with his black ponytail slung over one side.

“Come up!  Come up!” Fred crowed, waving his staff in the air and causing a spiraling staircase created from red light to twirl down and settle at Riven’s feet.  “You are a special guest, do not mix with the rabble!  Come see what stores we have for you!  Azmoth has already given us a good idea on what you’re looking for when we heard you were in the market for a long journey, and we’ve prepared some of the best we can offer on this poor, unruly low grade world!”

Riven smirked, then ignored the stairs made of energy and simply walked through a rift in space to step onto the platform ahead of him.  His three demons followed, and they found themselves facing a rather lavish storefront that was secluded from the rest of the smaller shops, booths and setups down below.  Red banners inlaid with gold covered the entrance and walls of carved, polished wood - and some of Zelmont’s succubus wives stood at attention just outside.

“Traveling in style I see.” Zelmont, the incubus stated with a head nod - letting his eyes fall over Fay just once to elicit a hiss before smirking and adjusting his plain white tunic.  Pulling out a clipboard and a pen created from the same red energy the staircase had been made of, he headnodded over to the inner workings of Negrada’s trading commune.  “This is an exclusive trading area only for people on this planet who we deem… acceptable enough to enter.  May I also add that I was quite pleased to see your rise to power on the cortex forums here, it did add some excitement to the boring tasks of overseeing this commune.”

“Don’t act like you do all the work, that would be me.” Fred the old jabob demon snarled with a flick of his wrist - ruffling Zelmont’s hair with a blast of some kind of wind and getting a disgruntled glare from the incubus.  “Anyways I am very excited to see you finally make you appearance in our small and humble commune, my prince.  It is an honor to not only have an esteemed progenitor of this planet buy from us, but also to do business with one of the royal house of the Requiem is beyond a simple demon like me.  Please, come inside so that we may discuss the wares we have!  Was Azmoth correct in saying you’re looking for specialty items concerning your demonic familiars?”

“That’d be correct.” Riven stated with a head bob over to the three familiars behind him.  “Weapons, armor, outfits, supplies, trinkets, new ability tomes or scrolls, anything that’ll help us on a long journey.  You name it and I’ll consider buying it.”

“And what is your price range at the moment?  Surely you gained quite a bit of wealth after your recent battle!”  Fred’s eyes gleamed with greed, and his little red hands rubbed together excitedly in anticipation.

“I spent most of it.” Riven said honestly, getting a frown from the smaller, hunched demon in front of him.  “Only a little over a million coins left.  I spent over 78 million at the system store on acquiring food stuffs and getting our economy started.  I’d heard that you didn’t deal in food so I just went to the source.”

Fred’s eyes bulged and his voice rose to a squeak of disbelief.  “78 MILLION!?  Are you INSANE!?  Why would you spend that kind of money on… Ugh… Nevermind!  Just follow me.  At least tell me you still have the cursed sanctuary stone?”

“Yeah I still have it.  Why?”

“Negrada is interested in buying it.  Getting our hands on an Azag Hive Sanctuary that can be harnessed isn't unheard of, but it is very rare and potentially valuable to a dungeon core if we're able to crack its code.”

“Huh.”  Riven had actually seen what the system store would pay for such an item.  He’d also read up on some of the lore concerning the Azag, which were essentially planetary parasites that ate the cores out of worlds and left them as smoking husks while draining their mana. The Azag Hive Clusters were a very feared force of the multiverse, but just how they’d gotten a foothold on this planet through using Richard as an overmind was unfortunately beyond Riven’s knowledge.  Regardless, he could see why a dungeon would want it.  Using it to build up a force of personalized Azag would be of great benefit to Negrada without a doubt, and perhaps a dungeon like Negrada would be able to resist the compelling sensations the curse of the stone would give.

That didn’t mean Riven would part with it for anything less than a monumental price, because the price the general Elysium Altar’s store proposed for the stone was worth an immense amount of money.  Hell, Riven wasn’t even sure he wanted to part with it at all - in case he could somehow find out a way to control the startup hive cluster himself one day.

Fred’s irritation died down when he realized the Azag sanctuary stone was still in Riven’s possession.  Waving Riven forward, the jabob went through the gold-inlaid flaps with Zelmont ths incubus behind.  Azmoth roughly yanked Genua forward by her chain and the three familiars quickly followed suit as Riven passed into the interior of the elevated third story platform.

Inside was a long hallway with closed off rooms on either side, and at the end of a hallway was a rectangular room with four sets of outfits already positioned on wooden mannequins.  Each had a name carved into the wood below, with very fine detail noted to each carving.

Athela.

Azmoth.

Fay.

Genua.

“Genua?” Riven stated, eyeing the outfit and glancing between his slave and the mannequin.  “Really?  You prepared a set for her too?  The rest of this is rather impressive and I'm sure it’s expensive, but I won’t be paying much if anything for her.  She and her family betrayed me and tried to kill me.  If she dies, she dies.”

“It’s on the house!” Fred stated with a wide grin, ignoring the wide-eyed look of shock on the elf’s face.  “And trust me on this, vampire: you should invest more heavily in creating a thrall.  A proper thrall can be just as good a weapon as a contracted familiar, and with a bloodline like yours flowing through her veins to change her - I’m sure you would not be disappointed in such an outcome.”