The Newt and Demon-8.82 - Distractions

Tresk wiped her brow as she walked through the streets of Broken Tusk. Some might not have noticed it, but the air had changed significantly. All her cores had been disabled except for her Dreamer’s core. From what she understood, Fenian had used his advanced Celestial Cultivation to his advantage. After starting the reforging process, the system decided that was the perfect time to lock everyone’s system in the sector. Didn’t seem to phase the elf, since he just went on slaughtering all those pale elves that had poured from those portals.

Tresk shook her head, locking those memories away. She had moved Theo to the manor, tucking him into bed. Hell, she even sent Alex with him into the Dreamwalk to keep him company. But the moment the memories of Fenian came back to her, he could see the discomfort on her companion’s face. Everything was fine, though. The super scary dragons he brought back, the world-shaking power he now had, and even the alchemist’s dead wife…

Theo shook again, and Tresk got a tighter lock on her thoughts.

“Stop thinking about… Yep, gotta go get distracted,” Tresk muttered. “You got this?”

“Not really,” Luras muttered.

“Good job, buddy.” Tresk patted the big man on the butt. He was too tall, but seemed unaffected by the HR nightmare. “I’ve gotta do some tweaks.”

Luras grunted.

Tresk cracked her knuckles. She might’ve cast the Reforge Many spell with little issue, but there were some nuances she didn’t really understand. Theo had a backup plan nestled in that dome of his, so it would be a problem. As long as she went from person to person, giving them a specific dose of that same magical energy. There was no way to figure out where to start, so she simply headed out onto the street and got to work on everyone.

Most people in Broken Tusk were making their way back to the arena. Theo had, after all, promised more games once they had arrived on the other side. Even if the reforging process was painful, everyone was excited for some more games. Working on the people was easy enough. The alchemist had created a pretty easy mental checklist based on too much or too little reforging energy. His plan was to give everyone the perfect dose, because he was lazy. Some hard work wouldn’t kill Tresk, though, so she just got to it.

“Nice to meet’cha,” Tresk said, shaking a human’s hand as she zapped him with reforging power. “Yeah, that looks like it hurts.”

“How ya doing?” Tresk asked, slapping an ogre on the butt. She was on a roll with the loud clapping sounds she was getting today. A moment later, the ogre was holding its chest as though it were on fire. “Walk it off.”

At first, there seemed to be no end of the issues people were having. Siphoning the reforging energy off was a big pain in the ass. She worked for a few hours, following everyone as they went to the arena. Good thing Alise had her head on her shoulders, though. She had organized some simple games to keep everyone entertained while the administrators figured out exactly what was going on. Truth was, everyone was taking this really well. Maybe too well.

Maybe they were just too hungover to care…

The games were actually pretty interesting. Tresk used some borrowed aura from Theo, scanning everyone to make sure they were reforged correctly as she watched the games. With systems being disabled, people were less strong. Yeah, they still had the effects of their attributes, but they didn’t have access to any abilities, skills, or spells. That made for some extremely interesting fights… even if the weapons were cloth-padded wooden weapons. Tresk eventually settled into the commentator box, finding most of the administration team there.

“How is it?” Tresk asked, scratching her head. “Are we doing good? I’m kinda confused.”

Alise nodded. She looked tired, but was holding on. “It happened so quickly, I don’t blame you. Stocks of food made it. Most magical items aren’t working, all the seed core stuff is suspended, Throk’s artifices aren’t functional… But Aarok is organizing everyone to stabilize the edges of the island. Early reports, which have to be carried by hand, are good.”

Tresk tapped her chin. “Well, where the hell is Belgar?”

“Are we expecting him?”

Tresk shrugged. “I thought Theo had worked something out with him!”

“Perhaps you could make yourself useful and figure that part out.” Alise sighed. “All our food came over, and the Dimensional Storage is still working. But it isn’t infinite, and once these people understand they’re trapped, we’re going to have a big problem.”

“Still, Theo brought a lot of land…”

“To the edge of Gronro,” Alise confirmed. “How he did it is beyond me. And he shaped his aura to do so… Seriously have to question how that guy does half of what he does. Anyway, make yourself useful. See if you can get us off this rock.”

Tresk nodded, reaching out to the void to use Theo’s folding technique. But it wasn’t there for her to grab. With a frown, she tried again, and still nothing. “No more fast-travel, I guess. Looks like the system is in full lockdown mode.”

“Well, you better get running,” Alise said with a laugh. “How long is that going to be entertaining?”

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Tresk nodded, heading off without another word. Without her class-based shadow teleportation or the void folding technique, she had to run. According to Theo’s memories, he kept most of the swamp, including the mountains to the south to keep everything mostly together. Relying only on her absurd level of Celestial Cultivation, Tresk dashed toward the coast. The sea was completely gone, revealing the seafloor and stranded boats stuck in the mud. Ignoring that, she went a bit further, heading to the southeast until she found the edge.

“That’s a fall,” Tresk said, swallowing nervously.

Maybe she could survive the drop. Maybe not. But she didn’t have to think about death-defying leaps for much longer. Lurching with a rocky motion, a boat appeared. A flying boat, containing none other than Belgar with a broad grin on his face. The airship didn’t look worthy of flying, but it came up all the same. Tresk placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head as the demon made a dangerous landing in the mud. He jumped from the railing, landing with a bit too much grace.

“Huzzah!” Belgar shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “The madman actually did it!”

“Damn, so did you. Airships? Really?” Tresk asked.

“Well, this is something of an experiment. We have bigger ones, but they’re going to take some more work to complete,” Belgar admitted. “We have a few people that developed powerful systems, and they’re all working together to get transport projects done. The Gates are still functional, even with the reset going on.”

So there were some things immune to the reset, such as the Middle Realms. Tresk breathed a sigh of relief. That meant the heavens were still going strong, which had been a big concern from the start. Defending against outside gods was a problem, and she wasn’t sure how much the reset would affect.

After a few long moments of silence, Belgar spoke. “So… wanna go for a ride?”

“Duh.”

Tresk jumped into the boat. It was about thirty feet long, and had been made by someone who created boats when they were alive. Since it was designed far too much like a boat and not an airship, she figured they had just gone with what they knew. The airship rose into the air, slowly at first. It lurched, whatever artifice machinery making it go humming to life as more power was given to levitation artifices. Then they were off, zipping over the new landscape of Broken Tusk and what was left of the Southlands Alliance.

Belgar gave a tour of the area, skimming the landmass’s edge to take in all the new details. Theo had done a great job carving out all the important parts, including a bit of Gronro. It wasn’t a lot, but it was good enough for now. The airship slowed near the northernmost part of the island about an hour later where they hovered.

“This is actually very stable,” Tresk said with a laugh. “Your boys really outdid themselves.”

Belgar bowed his head. “We’re just doing whatever we can. Let’s take her back over the arena. You said the locals might be concerned about leaving?”

Tresk nodded, and they were off.

The airship did a tight tour around the arena, giving everyone a good look at what they had to look forward to. Without instant communication, Tresk just had to assume that Alise got the message before they departed. Belgar and his crew flew them down to Boar Hollow, which had changed slightly since the last time she had seen it. It wasn’t just that they were building “slightly larger” airships. They were building massive ones made from timber. They were so large that gigantic supports had been erected to keep them in place.

“How many of the big ones?” Tresk asked.

“We have two of the big ones, and about thirty of the skiffs in production,” Belgar said. “Everyone came together to get this started.”

“Well, I know a marshling up on the island that might be interested in helping. Even if my dad can’t use his class, he knows a lot about this crap.”

“Of course!” Belgar said, chuckling. He cleared his throat, giving her a more serious look. “But first, would you like something to eat?”

Tresk patted her belly. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

***

Death hadn’t expected to perform the Procession. Of all his plans, this was the most far-fetched one. But as his fingers curled around the hand of the woman he loved, he could only feel contentment. When Fenian had emerged from Death’s Gate, he thought that was the end. The elf had moved with the power of a god. A real one. In his footsteps, destruction followed. When Fenian seized him by the throat, crushing his windpipe and shattering some of his spine, he was certain that was it.

“What troubles you, my dear?” the Lady asked.

Death laughed to himself, absently rubbing his throat. “Our bargain. I never thought I’d see it through.”

“Oh, you have such little faith in me!” the Lady said, her voice filled with mirth and confidence. “From the moment we met, I knew you would do great things. Imprisoned as you were, I knew you had the resolve to see our plan through. We now walk hand-in-hand, the Lady of Light and the Lord of Death. Igse and Inte, Antalis and Telbaris. Yin, Yang… Whatever you want to call it.”

Death looked over his shoulder. He saw the beast riddled with chains, drawing behind it a carriage of brilliant silver and white. He saw the lumpen skin of that beast and the perfect paneling of the carriage. They were two completely different things, yet they had been bound for one purpose. Within the Carriage of Light and Death rode the souls of the dead. The new Procession of Light and Dark represented the cycle of life and rebirth. From the start of Death’s Road, they set out with new cargo. The end of their journey was Death’s Gate, where those souls awaited judgement.

In the old system, the weight of a soul was one god’s decision. Now it fell into the hands of two. Igse and Inte. Antalis and Telbaris. The weighty crown of determination, too heavy for one head, now fell onto two. A perfect balance where the fate of a soul could be determined without bias.

“There is the matter of Balkor to consider,” Death admitted. “His soul slipped free from the sector. In the exact moment you manifested yourself.”

“Hah! Tricky little imp.” The Lady laughed politely. “Oh, please tell me another story about him. Your time here must’ve been so trying, and you’ve done so well to keep yourself together. What do you remember of Balkor?”

Death cleared his throat, his grip tightening on the Lady’s hand. “Balkor was a selfless man. He loved the undead because only he understood what they were. Not wraiths or ghouls, serving only their master. He understood those that were afflicted with the condition and gave them a home. More than anyone, he understands those who straddle the barrier between light and dark.”

“Igse and Inte. Antalis and Telbaris,” the Lady nodded with approval. “More tales, please. I’d like to hear what you’ve been doing for the past 60,000 years.”

“Where to start…”