The Newt and Demon

6.6 - Epic Plus

6.6 - Epic Plus

Theo didn’t think he would ever get used to Drogramath’s realm. It was confusing enough to stand on verdant ground, looking over a forest of trees and reagents that towered up to the glass dome. But he could see the other domes in the distance, floating like massive, round vials in the distance. The lord of the realm had invited him to discuss this latest discovery. To the alchemist’s surprise, it wasn’t an invitation to chide him.

“You’ve grown up seeing reagents in a different light.” Drogramath almost seemed lazy in his own realm. When Theo saw the spectral projection of him, the figure on the other end was always angry. Not here, though. Not within the heart of the potioneer’s power. “You’re not born from a true brood. That much is true. Dronon are wanderers by nature.”

“What’s the highest level any other Drogramathi brood has gotten?”

Drogramath turned. His strong features turned sour, but he nodded. “Not far past Level 30. Did you know that some of your feelings bleed through the realms? Especially after taking Drogramath Dedication.”

“I was… moderately aware.”

Drogramath paused for long moments. “If you doubt the course you’ve been set on, remember this. The only time a dronon—no matter what brood—made it past Level 30 was before the Second Ascension War.”

There were factors that Theo understood about that problem. Things got rough after that level, depending on how a person had built themselves. Something about gaining more power set folks on a path of self-destruction. Sulvan was an excellent example of one that had maintained most of their senses. Although he was a zealot, he kept it together. Most others that had retained their mind had done so thanks to strong convictions. Fenian’s plot of revenge kept him going for all those years, pushing for the death of King Karasan.

Theo owed his sanity to three factors. The Tara’hek, his Wisdom potion, and Drogramath. The higher an attribute that affected the mind got, the more a person fell away from their true self. What the god was trying to say was simple enough. It echoed through the minds of most people. Especially those who had ascended to the higher planes of existence. The system was broken. Every facet set in the intricate setting of reality was designed for a cycle. Construction and destruction happened as a fact of life. Cities could be built in days. People could ascend to unspeakable realms of power within a month. Putting aside the psychological effects, this resulted in absolute destruction.

“Zalaban is a good example,” Drogramath said, taking Theo’s silence for contemplation. “The mortals got it in their minds to change the system themselves. To remove that cycle of destruction. Zalab City was on the coast of what is now Gardreth.”

“The dead kingdom Gardreth?” Theo asked, laughing to himself. “There’s a joke in there somewhere.”

“A portent, more like. Yes, they gained some mastery over seed cores. But the price was absolute. When the kingdom became an island, Balkor sprung into action.”

Theo hesitated. He didn’t know what the opinion of the Demonic Pantheon was on Balkor. He knew everyone hated the red dronon, Zagmon, as he embodied bloodshed. But Balkor’s powers weren’t nefarious on their own. Undeath was an element. Just like wind, water, holy, and so on. It was a piece of reality that couldn’t be denied.

“And what was Balkor’s plan?”

“To end it all. Purge the entire planet so that something could start again. He did it the wrong way, but tilted the heavens enough to give Khahar a start.”

“His plan would have never worked. Because we’re missing pieces, right?”

Drogramath laughed, clapping a powerful hand over Theo’s shoulder. “Don’t mewl at me like some sniveling boy. You know there are missing pieces. You’re the one that’s going to get them back.”

Theo cleared his throat. He had never been shy about getting his hands dirty. He had never shirked whatever duty was thrust on his shoulders, even when he wasn’t given enough information. But this was a step far in a direction. Even Drogramath was confident he could do it.

“I’m just surprised Khahar hasn’t come to shut us up,” Theo said.

“Might have something to do with that,” Drogramath said, gesturing to the shimmering field of black aura around them. “Or he’s feeling nice today.”

“I choose the second option. Was I right about the reagents?”

Drogramath shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Nope. I only designed the first stage of alchemy by hand. I let the system figure out the rest.”

“But you could reference it somehow. Pull up a screen. Flip through the pages to give me a hint.”

Drogramath smiled. Then shrugged. “Don’t disappoint me now, Theo. Not when things are just getting interesting.”

The demon god seemed more interested in history than alchemy today. Which was weird, considering the endless sprawl of reagents in those glass orbs. Theo decided to ask him about the history of the southlands. But that history was much like the other parts of the continent. With some interesting twists. Zalaban was considered the last great empire by some people. The truth was Tarantham, the home of the elves, had endured since the First Ascension War. Scholars disagreed if they were one continuous nation, considering their cannibalistic nature. Drogramath didn’t have an opinion.

The unique culture created by the half-ogres and the marshlings was weird. Ogre settlers came from Slagrot after the empire was destroyed. Glantheir restored the continent, making it easy enough for them to adapt to the swamps. A storm of coincidences flooded the area. Marshlings came from the lizard islands. Hearty humans migrated from Bantein. Although it wasn’t Bantein at the time.

“They’re not even really humans, though,” Drogramath scoffed. “Proto-humans. Elves that have been changed over time. Some Earthling’s attempt to bring the race to this world. Anyway…”

It only took the ogres and humans two generations to forget where they had come from. Ogres were war-like enough to get themselves killed in those two generations. The humans held too much wanderlust to stay where they were. The result was what was left. After that great exodus, either through death or departure, only the marshlings and half-ogres were left. Without a culture of their own, they built one based on life in the swamp. A few more generations passed before Qavell swept across the nation, only finding resistance in the western reaches of the continent. The people of Veosta—wrapped in pacts and protections from Tarantham—didn’t go with the promises of the kingdom.

“Another series of empty promises by a kingdom that couldn’t provide it,” Drogramath said, laughing to himself. “Who would fall for that again?”

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This was information that Theo had mostly pieced together. Others had admitted many of these facts, but the specifics had eluded him. The alchemist considered how Azrug was now a Loremaster. Once things went ass-up, that young man would be the one who carried on Broken Tusk culture. No matter what happened, Theo didn’t want that aspect to fade.

The reason for Theo’s visit to Drogramath’s realm was to get information about the next phase of alchemy. Those who didn’t know the way the gods worked would have thought he was leaving with nothing. But the vanity of someone who had lived for so long was absolute. Theo was the god’s champion. An investment that cost celestial resources. If he was on the wrong track, the demon god would have been at least a little upset. Instead, he told stories about the mortal realm and the workings of the gods. That was good enough for the alchemist.

After some more chatting, Theo left the realm. He touched down in Tero’gal only briefly, and only to make sure Uz’Xulven wasn’t annoyed that he had another way around the Bridge. He would bring that exploit to Khahar’s attention one day, but had a feeling he would need it later. The exploit was extremely simple and only required a spell or skill that removed someone from the gods perception and enough willpower to force themselves through. That should have been an easy patch, right?

Theo directed himself to Tresk, who was walking down the streets of Broken Tusk. He appeared next to her, smiling down at the little marshling.

“What’s up with the grin?” she asked, punching him in the arm. Alex honked, shooting a marshling-sized ball of fire into the air.

“I left everyone else in the swamp. Didn’t feel like walking back.”

Tresk laughed, nodding to herself. “That’s a good one. Classic Theo!”

While their day might have ended, Sarisa and Rowan weren’t there to make dinner. They instead went to the Marsh Wolf Tavern, where Xam was happy to sell them prepared food. Tresk helped set the dinner table up, and the pair left a few bottles of Cleansing Scrub by the door for them to use. While Theo waited for the group to return, he inspected his administration screen to get updates about Qavell.

As expected, things were moving forward now that Sulvan and Fenian had scoured the place clean. The Priest of Glantheir was still doing patrols, focusing on the areas underneath the city, but things were stable enough. After the creatures were removed, a haze was lifted from the eyes of the citizens. It didn’t pass the alchemist’s notice that the king himself seemed unaffected. He might have seen bumbling as a newly crowned king, but Hanan had hidden strength. It might have been cause for concern, but the city itself was more concerning.

Once Qavell was stable within the bay, things would be better. Theo had a fear the city would tilt over at any time, regardless of what Ziz said about its stability. More supports were required, and the alchemist was convinced it would take a mountain’s worth of dirt and stone to hold it there. Which might not have been inaccurate, considering how large the section underneath the city was.

When Sairsa and Rowan arrived at the manor, they had scowls on their faces. They muttered curses while they cleaned themselves with Cleansing Scrub. Once the potion had cleared their nostrils out, allowing them to breathe in the scent of the food, they softened. Xam had a habit of outdoing herself every time she cooked. Today was no different. She had cooked cut wolf meat in a thick brown sauce. This was poured over a bed of mashed zee—the type that seemed like packaged grits to Theo—and slathered the sauce on with a heavy hand.

“This almost makes up for your betrayal,” Sarisa said, stuffing her face.

“At least you didn’t need to cook,” Theo said.

“You should know!” Tresk shouted. “When someone can teleport away, they will.”

“That’s fair enough.” Rowan’s face was smeared with the gravy. It dripped from his chin, falling in his lap. He had taken less offense to the teleporting than his sister.

After the quiet dinner, the group remained at the table for a while. Theo had a few things to add to his administration screen before he retired. The elf from the underworld, Twist, had asked when he could head up north. The question was more complicated than it seemed and the alchemist would need to meet with the man before committing to anything.

With a few samples of wild Spiny Swamp Thistle Root in his mind, Theo, Tresk, and Alex fell into the Dreamwalk. Since the marshling had gained mastery over dreams, their descent was smoother than ever. She was understanding how dream realms worked, and what it meant to fall into one so easily. The result was a more powerful Dreamwalk. She could expand the area, create more realistic simulations, and even generate areas that she had never seen. It was almost like farseeing in that regard.

Tresk had deposited them into Tarantham’s capital city. She didn’t even know the name of the place, and some details were clearly wrong. White stone buildings spread as far as they could see. Orderly roads paved with stones that shimmered with every color. A single spire rose in the distance, dominating the area and making those smaller buildings look tiny in comparison. Theo suspected that she couldn’t really create places she couldn’t imagine. She had simply dropped into someone’s dream that lived in the city.

The expanded simulation was no joke, though. Theo found a workshop that was expansive enough for him to work at and got to it. He forced the Dreamwalk to accept that he was in an Herbalist’s Workshop and placed some imagined samples on the table. Both actions came easy enough. Since he was within a fake workshop, he applied the Research upgrade to the samples. Those that didn’t have a bad reaction back on the mortal plane provided no new information. But the one that had exploded when Rowan touched it was interesting.

[Spiny Swamp Thistle Root]

[Alchemy Ingredient]

Common

The root of a Spiny Swamp Thistle.

Research:

Infused with intense energy from Tero’gal and Drogramath

Fast Growth Cycle

Exceptionally pure sample

Properties:

[Healing] [Regeneration] [Flourish]

As expected, the Research upgrade revealed a bit of information. The sample he had before him was ‘exceptionally pure,’ which could only mean that each property would produce a high-quality sample. This wasn’t something Theo could check in the system unless he brought it to his workshop. But there were signs on the plant itself that would give it away. It was bigger than most other roots that he had collected. The gnarled sections of the root were straight and thick, while the smaller roots shooting out of the main body seemed hearty.

Theo tested between his two samples, pressing a mundane iron knife against each. When he touched the flat of the blade against the inferior sample, almost nothing happened. There was a slight sizzle, but nothing more. He only tapped the second sample with the blade for a moment, but got a series of small explosions that drove the knife away. The alchemist almost lost his grip on it.

It was easy to push the Dreamwalk further than it wanted to go. With Tresk’s authority, Theo forced it to allow him further testing. In moments, he generated a sample of a potion that would have been created with the root. He felt the edges of the Dreamwalk object. But it ceded to him, as he had created many samples of the Greater Healing Potion. A decent sample of the Greater Healing Potion would restore 175 health. That was at ‘good’ quality. The one created with the new root was different.

[Greater Healing Potion]

[Potion]

Epic+

Created by: Theo Spencer

Grade: Good Quality

Alignment:

Drogramath (Middling Bond)

A healing potion. Drink to restore health.

Effect:

Instantly restores 250 health points.

That was curious. Three things had changed with the potion. It went from Rare to Epic… With a plus after the ‘epic’ part. Theo had never seen that on a potion, and had to wonder what it meant. But the amount of health it restored increased by a staggering amount. To go from 175 to 250 was like jumping a tier in potions. He had never seen the grade of a potion increase the effectiveness that much, unless it was going from poor to perfect.

Theo was certain this potion would rival the next tier, all because he generated it with superior ingredients. That led to questions. Once again, he thought back to the way Drogramath organized his world. No farms, just wild reagents growing everywhere. It was nice having greenhouses with everything he needed. But something told him this plant couldn’t be replicated in those. The only way to create the best potions on the planet, he needed nature’s help.

“A most curious turn of events,” Theo said, pursing his lips and nodding.