The dinner of sting crab meat was one Ozzy would never forget, as his first meal of magical meat it was a truly life altering experience. Magical meat and their effects were one of the things Emil hadn’t taken the time to explain to him and largely because it wasn’t entirely relevant to their survival in the swamp. It was however a magical substance quintessential to ones longterm growth as a core user or commonly just as a pleasure more filling and satisfying than any earthly food could ever hope to be.

  Magical meats apparently filled two niches within the empowerment of core users. One, they could empower you in the short term and two they could empower you in the long term. It was very much an important meal, and to Ozzy it was nearly as important as absorbing cores.

  It was a night of discoveries for Ozzy, as he even learned things from Liza and Emil that would prove relevant to the rest of his life here, if it came to that. He even learned that Liza herself had almost been a hunter, but after meeting Emil had mostly settled down with the idea of starting a family.

  After dinner Emil gave him a book titled “A Core Users Path” it had no listed author but the tome was nearly as large as his head, and weighed about 15 pounds. Emil had told him that while he could read as far as he liked the basics would all be laid out in the first few chapters.

  Needless to say he hit the books, spending most of the night deep within the tomes pages, learning about everything there was to know about being a core user. At least from the perspective of an elementary core use tome.

  While large and convoluted it did answer many of his questions, firstly, regarding the strange feelings he’d had while eating.

  As he’d been chowing down he’d felt a power stirring within him, growing in volume and temper with each bite until he became full both literally and spiritually. After reading the tome he’d realized it was the essence of the monster itself that needed to be digested not just by body but by his very soul. Through which process his soul could grow and empower itself. Eventually growing to the point where even a tier might be crossed.

  There was however much more to it than just eating of course. Firstly he needed a third core and a batch of shards. One for each slot. Until that point however he would bleed away most of the power he received. It was like his soul was a colander that used shards and cores like patches. Each one allowing him to absorb just a little more power than the last. Which was where the monster meat came in.

  Progression was had in two parts. One for the body, and one for the soul. Absorbing and digesting essence and mana allowed one to empower their body but they could only empower it to the level of their soul, any excess power slowly seeping its way out of their system until everything was once again in balance. The soul was only able to be empowered by items of power, shards, cores, and other mana dense treasures that the book neglected to name.

  In essence he would have to go and spend close to a fortune filling out his cores, spend another fortune on various monster meats and mana dense materials to empower his body, and maybe then he’d be able to hit tier 1. Or he could hunt.

  There was a note in the book that gathering your own materials for advancement was the best way to go if you sought power quickly at least. Apparently there was some sort of connection had between hunter and prey that allowed you to more easily suck down all that mana dense goodness. Why that was how it worked Ozzy couldn’t find an explanation for, save for that it did.

  Problem was, Ozzy wasn’t a hunter. Emil had explained the process to becoming one but it included registering with the organization and disclosing abilities, cores, origins, and more personal information Ozzy quite frankly didn’t have. Despite all of this Emil had made it sound like his getting into the guild was all but guaranteed. That was all and good, but before anything else happened, he needed to beseech a higher power.

  “Fauga, Lord of Powder and whatever, can we talk?” Ozzy beseeched the heavens on his knees from beside the guest bed he had been reading.

  Waiting for several moments Ozzy looked around awkwardly, religion had never been a huge part of his life back home though he had considered himself a christian. Not a crazy one mind you but he’d been baptized and gone to church in one of his nicer hoodies every now and again if he felt the pull. His mother had been the one to get him into it, and over the course of his life it had just been one of a truckload of habits he’d inherited from her.

  Which was why waiting there on his knees he felt a familiar sense of loneliness.

  Prayer had never come easily to Ozzy, even as a child he’d struggled to talk to something that was not only not around but something he didn’t understand. To him it had been like talking to the microwave and expecting an answer, and now awaiting Fauga he rekindled much of those same feelings. The only difference being he’d met the god. God he was glad he wasn’t a christian anymore… wait was he still?

  Groaning Ozzy got off of the floor and flopped onto the bed. Well maybe he’d keep his good ol’ christian values around at least. The ones his mother had taught him at least, not any of those retaking the holy land ones.

  “Nice room.”

  Ozzy jerked in surprise, throwing himself off the bed and onto the hard wooden floor with a loud thud. In response getting angry knocks on the ceiling from Emil and Liza’s room which was directly above his.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Sorry.” The Lord of Powder’s raspy voice carried across the room to where Ozzy lay, nursing a rapidly bruising elbow on the floor.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Ozzy muttered, getting up to see the god lounging in a chair at normal human size. “I take it you heard my prayers?”

  “Yes, very strange way of praying. Like show off priest.” The god said, a bemused twinkle in his eye.

  “It’s how people in my world do it.” Ozzy shrugged, grabbing the tome and placing it on the bedside table so he could sit on the bed.

  “Well you want to talk business yes?” Fauga asked.

  “I was hoping to, I don’t want to bother Emil and Liza though.” Ozzy pointed conspiratorially up at the ceiling.

  “Then let us be off.” Fauga clapped his hands together and with a pop the world around Ozzy spun.

  ***

  Familiar whirrs and whines of machinery mixed with the pounding of hammers and wheezing of presses as Ozzy found himself once more within the realm of Fauga’s workshop.

  “Walk with me Ozzy” Fauga said, thundering off at his normal earth shaking size into the depths of the workshop. “And tell me about this Rat God.”

  Focusing on the path ahead of him just as much as the conversation Ozzy dodged shifting machinery and even a few piles of discarded metal chunks to follow the God deeper into the maze. The whole time regaling him about his experience with Remulas.

  “I am pleased you did not take blessing from this one Ozzy. He stinks of cunning words and double meanings.” Fauga huffed, finally stopping as they came to stand before a massive printer.

  “I got similar vibes. It felt a lot like talking to one of my world’s politicians. It was also weird that he wanted to send me your way.” Ozzy admitted, trying to see up and into the printer as Fauga pressed button after button on a computer mounted to the side of the machine.

  “He does not wish conflict with one such as myself. Also maybe put good foot forward.” The god shrugged before with a wave of his hand a staircase appeared in front of Ozzy.

  Stepping up the staircase he was reminded of some unnamed earthly department stores that had those rolling metal staircases they’d wheel around to get stuff off of the higher storage shelves.

  “I guess, but what do you think about his offer?” Ozzy asked, peering into the printer to see a quite frankly massive weapon. It was like a tank and a blunderbuss had made sweet love while hopped up on meth. The barrel was long and thick with the famous flared bell end muzzle of a blunderbuss. At the action of the weapon however it had a breech similar to that of early cartridge rifles.

  “It is not bad offer.” The god said, once again fiddling with the computer. “You need help, and rats are good ally to have.”

  “Well I know I need help, I got that from just understanding a little bit of what it’s gonna take to get me to tier 1. Do you think it’s worth going in without understanding the deal we’re making though? I mean he could just decide whenever he feels like it that we’re getting too close to his interests and then we have to step off.” Ozzy said, a note of frustration entering his voice.

  “It is bad deal yes, but we negotiate. Otherwise we say no to deal and move on.” As Fauga spoke the weapon that was forming in what Ozzy had thought was a printer dissolved, its shape spilling into a reservoir he hadn’t noticed before. Only for moments later the fragments that had fallen rising back up to form a two weapons. Ozzy’s weapons.

  “What are you doing with my guns?” Ozzy leaned against the clear barrier to get a better look at them. “How do I negotiate though?”

  “For blessing you get to tweak them. Not strong enough to mange it on own so I help for now. Leave negotiations to me l, better to do it between equals, and you are very smol right now. How do you want to change guns?” Fauga asked, using some function to spin them slowly within the chamber.

  “Honestly I’m really glad I don’t have to do that. I hate negotiating. Can you get rid of the knife at the end of the revolver? Oh and give the rifle a scope?” Ozzy asked.

  “Ehhhhh, yes and no. Yes to taking away knife, it will lower cost of summoning. No to scope, while would be better, adding is much harder than removing, make cost go up or lower the boom.” Fauga said apologetically, removing the knife from the front of the revolver with a few rapid button presses.

  “Is it like that it imbalances the power?” Ozzy asked, honestly just grateful the stupid pistol bayonet was gone.

  “Exactly yes, I could change size, iron sights, stock, trigger, action, however you want.” Fauga said, dismissing the revolver to focus on the rifle.

  “Theoretically speaking Fauga, if I wanted to make it stronger… would making it a single shot do that?” No sooner had the words exited Ozzy’s mouth than Fauga turned on him with the kind of smile that was normally followed by vast amounts of tomfoolery, explosions, and wanton destruction.

  “Oh absolutely.”

  ***

  Several minutes later Ozzy was back inside of the guest room. Pondering on their conversation as well as his new and improved weapons.

  The tail end of their conversation had mostly been Fauga confirming things he already expected to be the case. The Lord of Powder and The Rat God would get together and hash out a deal or they wouldn’t. In the case that they did Ozzy would find out from Fauga who would give him the details before he’d either veto or accept the conditions of the blessing.

  Then there was Fauga’s parting advice, and he shivered remembering what the god had said.

  “I could not normally tell you thing like this Ozzy. Since you are alone as my follower however I get certain, liberties, you could say. There are men hunting you, the friends of the one you killed. They hunt you and the stupid one, they are lead by the mantaur.” Fauga paused, giving Ozzy a hard look. “If you see them again, kill them. I know you are against it, but I implore you. This is not a world of mercy, and like these men. Those you spare next, might kill you for it.”

  It had been a warning not totally well received. Still grappling with the murder of the scalie, as Liza had called the reptile man, he’d been all but furious at Fauga for telling him to kill the others. The thought of taking another life filled him with a dread he could hardly describe yet even still, deep down in his heart of hearts, he knew the god was right.

  This world was so far distant from his own in more ways than just the magic. It was savage. From the working and living conditions he’d seen all the way up to the third platform to the violence and brutality the crowd on the first platform had been all too happy to watch. It was like he’d stepped into a world whose only true god was conflict.

  He needed to adapt, but for the life of him he couldn’t swallow it. More than anything he needed time, he needed to understand himself, to get over this mental hurdle and ingrain himself in this places bloody customs. He just hoped this world would give it to him.