Edge needed to talk to Ander about the mountain of materials he’d picked up over the last few weeks, but the crafter was taking a few days off to recover from the war with the Claws. I’ll let him enjoy his rest and drop by the Forge a little later.

  That left him with two stores on today’s shopping list, although he planned to visit the Night Sky Market the next time the monthly event rolled around.

  After deciding on a destination, Edge strolled down the streets of Puppet Town, enjoying how good it felt to be home after his trip through the dungeon and several high-threat biomes. While he walked, he took advantage of the opportunity to check out the changes that had occurred in his absence.

  He was deeply impressed by how much stronger the town had grown while he was away. Its core-wielders had cycled up like crazy, and its uncored residents had aggressively conditioned their attributes, improved their gear, and trained hard to bolster their martial proficiency.

  He could tell people had internalized the fact that their lives had irrevocably changed—that they needed to fight to defend their home if they wanted to survive as settlers on a mysterious, magical world.

  Edge had shared the knowledge Skill-Eater had imparted during their last face-to-face conversation with Dialla and Earl, including the requirements to unlock the Uncommon skills Riposte and Penetrating Strike.

  While it would take the militia a few months to earn both powers—along with anyone else who wanted to obtain them—the skills would dramatically increase their odds of surviving another large-scale engagement.

  Thinking about the battle reminded him what had happened just before he stole Yussuf’s skills. The battle to control his own destiny and the vision from Skill-Eater’s past.

  While he had been able to resist the overwhelming hunger through sheer force of will, he was deeply disturbed by his core’s desire to turn him into a living weapon—a being just as foul as any of the monsters he’d fought.

  The ravenous lord had been bound by the chains of oblivion for good reason—to stop it from devouring all the skills on the planet. However, that wasn’t the complete picture. The entity that tried to control him felt different from his prior interactions with Skill-Eater, although that primal hunger had always been lurking in the background.

  It’s almost like there are two different minds living inside the bound giant. A crafty skill master and an insatiable beast.

  His core was still asleep after using Overdrive, and he had no idea what he was going to do about the situation, but it was ultimately a matter for another day. He gave himself permission to shelve the dilemma for a little while longer and savor the joy that his friends were alive, his home was safe, and he still had a staggering number of Credits to spend.

  Edge soon arrived at the store managed by the Crafters’ Consortium, where a line continued out the door before wrapping around the block. Standing in it would have taken hours, but preferred customers like himself could circumvent the crowd by entering through the back. He exchanged a fist bump with the guard on duty and then stepped into the shop.

  For the next half hour, he browsed the aisles while immersing himself in the bustle of commerce filling the building. Then he made his way over to where Bee was consulting with the woman working the register.

  Over the last few weeks, the cheerful saleswoman had grown out her hair, and her raven locks fell just below her shoulders. Bee had several new piercings in vibrant colors that complemented her emerald eyes. It turned out that she had been promoted to general manager while he was away—now that the store’s business was booming like never before.

  “Bee, it’s great to see you.” She smiled wide when she saw him, pulling Edge in for a quick hug.

  “I was worried about you,” she said. “I heard you went through hell and back to keep the settlement safe. It’s a shame about Gram and everyone else who didn’t make it, but I know they would be happy to learn the people they died to protect are still breathing.”

  They shared a moment of silence in memory of the fallen, then got down to business. The Consortium didn’t sell custom-made gear, but the items it offered were high quality—suitable for hunters working in the field. They had expanded their inventory quite a bit, in preparation for the changes that were occurring across the Ivory Plains.

  Bee followed Edge while he outlined the purchases he was considering, talking him through a few items and letting him know about some products she thought he’d be interested in.

  He started off with a replacement for his canteen, which had shattered during his stint in the dungeon. He had originally intended to pick up a new water filter too. However, he no longer needed it thanks to Repel Water.

  His next purchase was a high-end flare gun, which could be seen from miles away. It came with an assortment of colored flares that could be used to convey a range of signals, even if magical communication was blocked by jamming skills.

  Since he plenty of room in his vault and more Credits than he knew what to do with, Edge went ahead and bought an entire case of stink bombs, smoke bombs, and flashbangs, then added a tub of maximum-strength scent-erasing ointment to the pile—enough that he shouldn’t have to worry about running out for the foreseeable future. On a whim, he added ten chirpers to his order, since the noise-and-heat-producing devices had proven useful in the dungeon.

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  He rounded out his purchase with an assortment of tools that he didn’t already have, including a kit for cleaning and maintaining his gear.

  His last item was a gas mask that would protect him from a range of toxic substances. It had a hookup that could attach to an air tank, which would let it double as a diving mask as needed. On that note, he went ahead and bought a tank now, along with a small magitech compressor that to refill it as needed.

  After haggling with Bee and asking for a bulk discount, he got 10% off on the order. He arranged for everything to be delivered to Trapper’s lodge, since he didn’t want to reveal the existence of his Spatial Storage Rune. It wasn’t really a secret, but it was still prudent to keep the unusual power out of the public eye.

  Edge bid farewell to Bee, then crossed into the alchemists’ ward to visit their shop. However, when he arrived, the gates were barred. There was a note stating the ward was closed while the people who had participated in the expedition recovered, and they made some changes to their production line.

  That’s too bad. As he was turning to leave, a familiar voice reached his ears. “Is that you, Edge?” He looked up to see Melchior, the senior alchemist, arriving on a beast-drawn wagon.

  “Melchior.” He bowed. “I’m glad you’re back on your feet.” The man had caught a stray arrow during the battle for Puppet Town but seemed to be recovering quickly.

  “My shoulder hurts, by not as much as my legs. I haven’t run so much in years—not to mention all the fighting. Going forward, our members need to shake the rust off, get some combat training, and prepare themselves for working in the field. Recent events have driven home the fact everyone in the settlement needs to grow stronger. Sitting behind the walls and playing with potions won’t help us survive what’s coming. Anyway, enough of an old man’s rambling. What brings you to the ward?”

  “I was going to stop by your store to restock, but I’ll come back when you’re open.”

  “Nonsense, lad. I owe you a debt I can never repay. The least I can do is unlock the store while you shop. Follow me, and I’ll ring you up myself.” The alchemist hopped down and they walked together as the wagon rolled past, heading for a chimney-lined laboratory in the far corner of the ward.

  When they arrived at the store, Melchior took out a key ring, opened the front door, and switched on a series of magelights embedded in the ceiling. They chatted while Edge browsed the rows of consumables, medicines, and industrial components, although in the end, he didn’t see anything he wanted that wasn’t already on his list.

  Alchemical products were significantly more expensive than the items Edge had picked up at the Consortium. It wasn’t prudent to go nuts, even with his newfound wealth. After talking it through with the senior alchemist, he decided to purchase some of the items that had helped him out in the dungeon.

  He bought four medicinal pills—bright green balls that helped purge the body of poison and venom—since it was something he was weak against right now. Next came three cleansing tonics that could break down toxins of the magical variety—in case he got hit by something Regeneration couldn’t handle or needed to help out a friend. Last came six crimson blood-restoration pills, as losing too much blood could weaken him before Regeneration had time to make more.

  With that out of the way, they moved on to weapon oils and poisons. Edge manifested Foebinder so Melchior could take a good look, then asked if he had any recommendations for concoctions that would be a good fit for the black chain, along with his naginata.

  The man was fascinated with the chain of oblivion and asked a rapid-fire series of questions while complimenting the living links. Edge was surprised that he could feel Foebinder’s enjoyment of the praise coming through their bond. It’s growing more aware over time.

  He wound up buying a large vial of earth oil that would increase the naginata’s penetration and a vial of fire oil that could be used with either weapon to set an enemy ablaze. He was still a novice with poisons and was afraid he would accidentally dose himself, so he decided against purchasing anything lethal and picked up a paralytic agent along with a cure that could be taken ahead of time.

  Poisons weren’t really his style, but he wanted something that could incapacitate a target without killing them. It would come in handy if an ally was affected by a rage-inducing skill, he needed to harvest a beast with delicate parts, and a range of other situations.

  Finally, Edge bought a potion pack containing thirty potions—two mid-grade and one high-grade potion for each attribute, color-coded so he could identify them at a glance.

  After he paid for his purchases and put everything into his vault, Edge decided to broach a topic he’d been too afraid to mention the first time he had visited the alchemists’ store.

  “Hypothetically, let’s say I was less than forthcoming during our prior conversation and might have had something to do with Warren’s disappearance after all. If I happened to have acquired his custom spellslinger and was looking for more spellshots, would that be something you could help me with?”

  Melchior grinned, showing no surprise whatsoever at Edge’s words.

  “Well, hypothetically, I would thank you for your service. Warren was a bastard, and his way of doing things has no place in our new reality. Unfortunately, while we can produce the crystals used to make spellshots, infusing them with skills requires magic that only a few people on Ord have, and the gods only know where they are now.

  “That being said, I happen to have a few rounds that were left as collateral for an order. It doesn’t seem like they are going to be picked up anytime soon—given that the plains are now on the far side of Ord.”

  Melchior walked into the back and returned with a small bundle wrapped in silk. He opened the wrappings and set the bundle in front of Edge, revealing four aquamarine spellshots.

  “These contain rank-four Web. If I were to leave them on the table and then look at the clock, hypothetically of course, and they were to disappear by the time I turned back around, I would consider them to have been a donation to someone who has provided the town with a valuable service on multiple occasions and not wonder about the specifics of why he needed them or how he intended to fire them.”

  At that, they both burst into laughter. Edge thanked the senior alchemist, loaded the rounds into his spellslinger, and then stored the revolver in his vault.

  “That reminds me. I promised you a reward for saving my life.” The man walked into the back, opened a safe, then returned with a golden pill.

  “This is a top-grade Remedy—the most potent medicine we make. It can cure almost anything, but the ingredients are rare enough that we only make a few each year, although I hope we can ramp up production now that we’re part of the new frontier. Don’t worry, I already gave one to Earl.”

  Edge recognized the pill from the feed and knew it was worth a small fortune. He accepted it with gratitude and then put it away. “Thanks, Melchior. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to return the favor. We’re all in this together, and I’m happy to lend a hand.”