RM CH3 (Patreon)

Senators in Weston were military assets first and politicians second. Neither the region champion nor the grand champion can appoint them, nor could a majority vote alone bring a random citizen into the ranks of senators. The requirements were a team of 10 elite qualified monsters rank 5 and up, qualifications to challenge a regional champion, and a degree in law. Those were the minimum requirements to run for the Senate then there were the battles between candidates for the honor of representing a group. After they have each shown their battle potential, then the voting would commence. To vote for a senator, all a tamer-class individual had to do was wave their ID and qualify to challenge the regional champion’s elite guard. These steep requirements had two purposes: first, to ensure they could check a Governor’s power and to limit suffrage to those loyal to their territory and region.

Senator Julius Walker was a man from a southern territory who fell in love with Hellmouth the territory he found his team in. The Eastern region was said to be the toughest due to its proximity to Easton itself. When he first stepped foot in the region, he had nothing but clothes on his back and a dream. Nearly 2 centuries later, he had 8 children, 40 grandchildren, and 10 great-grandchildren so far. He raised three farming towns into metropolises that produced thousands of tamers; a few had even challenged him for his party position in recent years. A smile spread across the man’s face. An Arch hellhound with white and black fluffy fur wearing a cocktail dress handed him a cup of sweet tea. She was his first monster, a mere black dog nearly a century and 5 ranks ago. With his Willpower empowering numerous high-ranking skills he could pick threats out of the future itself and make plans for them. What he lacked in physical strength, he made up in extreme specialization. Oh, he also had a team of hell beasts armed and ready for an Easton invasion or a war with another territory.

“Was it wise to let one of your grandchildren into the dungeon before 16?” Mandy asked.

She stood 6 feet tall on her toes while wearing her favored form, an anthropomorphic wolf girl with large knockers and a red cocktail dress. Her wolfish snout once made communication difficult until his first monster set her mind to mastering sound magic. A howl from her, once an intimidation tactic, if uncontrolled, could destroy a portion of the Dis city. She mostly practiced that magic at parties and wild orgies dedicated to Hades. For an Arch Hellhound over 200 years old she would be considered a teenager still.

Mandy coughed directly into his ear, and the Senator knew he had to answer her. She was so attached to his family it was adorable. His favored monster wanted to give Atom one of her own pups before that blasted woman/Daughter-in-law denied it. Then she traded his tamer class for a farming one. What was the point of money, power, and influence if he didn’t use it for family? It wasn’t the Governor who checked Easton Sect Masters and Court Ministers.

Julius pulled a cigar from the case in his desk and lit it to buy time. Oh, he had his answer, but he wanted to put off her outburst.

The Senator looked to his guest, an Easton man with a black mustache pointed up like the symbols of Nike. The man wore a loose purple robe with pockets he had taken to stuffing with his hands.

“Let the weak cull themselves and give the strong support.” Former Sword Devil Sect Elder Yang Da said.

Escaping the Easton Empire had cost the man 2 realms of cultivation, leaving him barely stronger than a core or inner disciple of his Sect.

Julius opened a few screens showing off the data he collected. “He prepared for it. See the hardware he purchased? Besides, he had a Nightroad on his team with a certificate of enchanting. The odds are good. The dungeon isn’t an infector type. I saw his algorithm, but I’m not buying it. None of our analysts are saying this dungeon will be an infector.”

Mandy tapped a clawed digit against the window, slowly scratching a hole into the glass. An email dropped; his grandson was out and unharmed. Julius sighed in relief.

There were only 4 survivors. As it so happened, it was the ones wearing environmental suits and the werewolf with massive regeneration and a rank above the dungeon.

“Well, that answers that question, or my grandson is a mass murderer.”

“No worse, he’s a cultivator.” Elder Yang Da said.    

Julius stared at the man who turned perfectly dead hunks of steal into devils that fed on blood and gallows humor. Then he looked at his grandson with the eyes of a 6th-rank tamer. The information he received was disturbing.

“He has no system link. Worse, he cut it and replaced it with something I haven’t seen before.”

“It's like he tried to make an artifact spirit connection for a soul weapon, but it can be disconnected.” Yang Da said.

“Mr. Yang, if you tell anyone,”

“No need. I wouldn’t wear out my welcome after I burned my bridge with my country. But the boy must be trained.” Yang Da said.

“What gives you the ability to teach a Walker?” Mandy said.

“Senior Mandy, you make me feel homesick with such a declaration. I am the only cultivator that you can trust. My grandchildren will be born with your system. I must rely on your generosity to see them trained in the Weston Martial path. This child has somehow done something that has taken him from that path and put him on one similar to mine.” Yang Da said.

“I don’t know if his mother will agree with rewarding him with a teacher for cutting his connection with the system to become a cultivator. He was always a decisive and headstrong boy. Which is why he would do well with one of my pups.” Mandy said.

“He is no longer a tamer, and your pups are like you?” Mandy raised an eyebrow. “I mean, they are bold, powerful, and to be respected. For someone without tamer skills, working with them is impossible.” Julius said.  

“Vultures are circling. Death Chi fills the air from the whore Yin’s rotten cunt.” Yang Da said.

Julius rubbed his forehead and considered his next move. Dis was a city with many positives: good schools, a healthy birthrate of 6 per household, and low crime. What it did not have was kind reporters. Yang Da stated in his own way what everyone knew. They had just experienced a dungeon massacre that shouldn’t have happened. None of the Infector dungeon outbreaks happened near Hellmouth territory.

“If I go down there, it will be a blood bath,” Mandy said.

While his Arch Hellhound was great at considering his human family and other monsters pack, that was the limit. She wouldn’t hesitate to rip and tear until Atom was free of any threat, especially after coming from a dungeon. Laws were preventing him from simply brushing the reporters away with solid will. Sending refuge was even worse in some ways. Fortunately, as a Senator, he had many tools, both blunt and surgical, for nearly every situation imaginable. He had the authority to command local military leaders, such as their territory general, and an army filled with volunteers in forts dotting all around the Hellmouth territory.

At any time, he could call upon his private monster army, unleashing hundreds of rank 4 and 5 monsters upon any enemy Julius desired.

For this particular task, he contacted the boy’s mother. Emily Walker, formerly Emily Ross, would deal with her son’s enemies best. She would see to family interests while he planned how he would spring Yang Da on his grandson. Perhaps they can try a simple demonstration of power.

…

Sebastion was her most troublesome rehab monster to date. It had been a terror in the rank 3 dungeon in outer Naraka, simply called The Gate. The crow glutted itself on human flesh and grew arrogant thinking itself a true monster lord. She arrived in the dungeon and beat him with only using Brickney, her trusty Alloy Metal Slime Queen. She relished the look on his beaked face when she broke him, and he begged her to make him strong.

To further curb that pride, she made him her official butler with all that entailed. He drove her limo, led by the flashing blue lights of squad cars led by the Sherrif of Dis, her own sister-in-law. Lilith, named after the consort of Baal, if the history of the name was correct, was a very Hellmouth name. The historical protector of children was rather apt in the way over 100 squad cars, helicopters, and Lilith’s own rank 4 Techno Dragon Carl, and possible lover if the rumors were true, hovered over the dungeon. If her son hadn’t managed to come out by the 12-hour mark, Carl would have ripped it open like a soup can and damned the consequences.

Only public opinion, Hellmouth sensibilities, and Atom’s preparations stopped an immediate reaction. Unless her son proved to be a mass murderer who left witnesses behind, his credibility will improve. The next time he warned of an infector, people would wear their environmental suits. It was a great catch, all things considered. If her son had chosen not to enter, she wouldn’t have punished him too harshly. Instead, knowing that he was walking into an infector hellscape, he decided to rely on an environmental suit with less than 24 hours of breathable air. She read the reviews and left one of her own that could cripple the company.

She planned to teach him this lesson with a few mother and son trips. Farmer class or not, no son of hers would let arrogance be the death of him.

“It seems your son has a bit of an arrogance streak. Back in the day, he was the type I would leave for last. The look on their faces at the end was delicious.” Sebastion said.

“Driver, punch yourself in the face.” Emily Walker said.

She heard the Nightmare Crow punch itself hard enough to draw blood and turned to look outside. People watched like this was a parade. Some were on tablet phones or wore augmented reality glasses. Emily was told too late to interfere with the initial interview between the blood-sucking reporters and her darling boy.

Brickney patted her shoulder. “He won’t hate you forever.” She had been too respectful of her son’s privacy. From this point onward she planned to watch his purchases, internet history, and education.

She turned away from the window and saw the smug eyes of her driver looking back at her. Sebastion appeared as a handsome man in his early 20s with a slightly Easton face. The black suit and tie gave away his nature despite the bird brain believing himself to be clever. Emily, as his tamer, had forced skills upon him that allowed shapeshifting into forms that blended in. Sebastion, of course, chose to stick out and reveal his hand. One day, she would discipline her naughty bird, but he was behind her own children in importance.

“What about the new guy, that metal lizard? Will you force him to assume a human form as well?”

The monster she recently recruited was a troublemaker of another kind. Dungeons were all vastly different and, in higher ranks, practically worlds to themselves. Artus was a red dragon that had taken to ruling humans and obsessed over creating the perfect civilization. Somewhere along the way, he fell in love with a blonde human knight and began challenging and devouring metal-type monsters, going so far as to cultivate their species, and over time, the red dragon became something that slipped through the rank ceiling. Through technology, the dragon had become a threat even to rank 4 individuals.

She had no choice but to remove him from the dungeon when he led a revolt on the final floor against the core itself. Emily spent nearly a decade in the dungeon’s depths in only a week on the outside. It was a frustrating experience, but Artus was a worthy monster to join her team and was already rank 4. If he could only stop sexting the knight and sending Arch-Knight Gwendalin dick picks. Gwendalin sent her an email asking about the twin worm monsters. she would have far less headache and cease and desist mail for her husband to find.

The limo stopped, and Sebastion gave a handsome smile if only it met his eyes. “Time to face the music. If only your son wasn’t underage, he would be quite powerful compared to the rest of his peers by now.” Sebastion said.

“No my son’s peers would have fed on attribute fruit from an early age and already be near rank 2 by this point. My son is only rank 1 and most likely matches or is even below the baseline human. He doesn’t exorcise much. Only Mai uses the gym I bought him.” Emily said.

“You are so free with negativity but frugal with praise. I recall when I gained this face, you only called it adequate. The human ladies love it.”

“I don’t care what your Easton whores say. Get out and open my door.” Emily ordered.

“Better Easton than the Vampire whore your son attracted.”

“I did away with those Fear Sisters and their attempts to honeypot my son,” Emily said.

“Melony Nightroad, does that name sound familiar,” Sebastion said.

She investigated her son’s companion and recognized the jawline of a former lover. The same red eyes, smile, and pale skin as her former lover brought both painful and pleasant memories. When she noticed her own nose on the girl’s face, she remembered when that fanged bastard asked for a lock of her hair as a memento when they separated. Emily could only think of her son and daughter being alone ignorant, and that the world was small. Then there was the fact her DNA had been used to make eggs in her former lover’s experiment.   

“I’m going to stake her father next time I see him,” Emily promised.

…

Melony turned to Atom repeatedly as they tallied up the loot. Blood Refinement had dropped, and her human companion hadn’t used it. The skill shard was instead recorded on a tablet while Atom went to work, opening an enchantment that she had never seen or heard of. The underage tamer was a mystery wrapped in a question that she was having trouble with.

An amulet of the Fear Sisters, a cheaply made piece of merch, hung from his neck while 9 Blood Rubies hovered around him. Tiny satellite Deep Sapphires hovered around them, each with their own function. The portal to exit the dungeon was already open, and they were only securing and dividing the loot. Her own Blood Frenzy skill had dropped when she killed the Tepes. The dungeon might rank up from that if the authorities don’t rip it open and harvest the core for this transgression. 296 dead because werewolf regeneration was overpowered.

She saw the blue of augmented reality play on Atom’s visor as he altered enchantments on the fly. Mana swirled around him thick enough to glitter blue under the false moonlight. Mai was out collecting the last of the loot. Most of it was enchanting supplies, gems, and crystals that sold for thousands on the open market.

If it wasn’t a tactic to preserve itself, then Melony would puke up the marrow she risked her life to consume. Already, she could feel it merging with her own body. When she ranked up to 3, Vampire Lady, Moon Daughter, and Macabre Vampire would open. Moon Daughter was the goal of a transition to far greater power.

“Is it better to rank up or secure a foundation?” Atom asked.

“Why do you want my opinion now?” Melony asked.

“You’re right, my mistake.” Atom said.

“Rank obviously just climb to rank 7, and only the gods themselves can censor you. Weston citizens will kill each other for the right to give you a position of power.” Melony said.

It was her thoughts on the matter and good advice whether he decided to take it or not.

“I understand where you’re coming from. But it isn’t everything. Monsters don’t rule the world.”

“Neither do humans.” Melony shot back.

“I know, and both of us chase after rank, and I’m starting to see that as a mistake. Gas, liquid, solid, and plasma are the states of matter, but Easton Cultivators have a 5th, 6th, and 7th rank.” Atom said.

That sounded insane, but it probably meant something with the right context. Was he into Alchemy or a chemistry buff?

She sighed and shook her head. “Don’t try it. You’ll explode.” Melony said.

“A body can only take one source of power in the Dantian. Sticking two in the same organ will cause an overload leading to a rupture.” Atom said.

He used more confusing terms.

“What are you talking about?” Melony said.

She had heard that Easton word Dantian before, but Atom talked like it was an actual organ.

“Nothing important, but hey, if we find the reason why people explode, then we’re halfway to solving it right.” Atom said.

Melony scoffed and gave the textbook response. “Maybe in a few centuries.” Atom nodded and turned back to his work. The gems rotated around him, growing dimmer as each one shattered and died. Something changed, and a decision was made, but she didn’t have the context to make sense of it.

Mai returned, and the portal opened for them to leave with a couple warehouse-sized bags of holding filled with enough precious gems to lower demand on the open market. They wouldn’t place the gems on the market, of course. All they had to do was contact a mining company and sell to them directly to protect the demand even if supplies were raised.

…

Scanners went over our bodies, bags of holding, and our systems. I read as an under-aged civilian, but that didn’t raise any flags for a rank 1 dungeon. Flashing lights from distant cameras the sounds of helicopter blades, and sirens could only mean the outside world was aware of the situation. A barricade was already established with big men dressed in antipersonnel gear. Power armor had a way of sending a message to reporters and protestors alike. Mom used Brickney as a form of power armor she wore and practically jumped to rank 6 with it. My aunt was already on the scene doing damage control. At the same time, Carl, her massive Techno dragon, floated above, armed with enough canons to make even my mother sweat. People held up signs saying no more Infectors like my Grandfather had control over the dungeons. That was good because it took some of the explanation off my shoulders and bad because I didn’t want to deal with this mess.

A reporter slipped under one of the guards and ran her scrawny ass to me. She then waved a microphone in my face. “Is it true Senator Julius warned you about this dungeon, and you chose not to tell anyone?” She said.

Who were they to judge me when I warned everyone? While the others didn’t laugh at my face, I knew they thought I was a fool for taking the chance. No one withdrew because it was most likely their only time to experience a dungeon with no strings attached from the guild masters, city majors, and territory governors. The bill to make rank 1 dungeons noncontract was written by my Grandfather, and it was a blow to the monopolies that replaced the nobles after the revolution. One of my Aunt Gremory was assassinated because of it, along with 4 of my cousins.

If not for the right to freedom of the press, which was fought hard for by my own ancestors, this woman could be challenged to an honor duel for her careless words. Hellmouth was one of the few territories that gave citizens rights that neither Governor, judge, major, or Senator could infringe. That was my answer, of course.

I channeled the most condescending young master voice I could manage. The voice I chose was the sort of tone only found in Weston Propaganda from the Second Continent War. “I think it’s a great thing that people like you can ask someone of my station questions like that,” I said.

Mai snorted. The trick was to really raise the nasal sound of my voice. “Is your lack of answer an admittance of guilt?” The reporter said with a smug tone of voice.

“How often do you cross the line from freedom of the press to defamation?” I asked.

We were taught at an early age never to speak with reporters. I was making a mistake, and I knew she was going to digitize my voice and make me say things. Defamation was, unfortunately, a small fine compared to the damage she would do to my reputation or, worse, my Grandfather’s.

The reporter hadn’t lost her smirk, and I knew the play. She was going to edit this conversation into an admittance of guilt and blast it over the internet. Before the truth got its pants on, this woman would have spread her lies halfway across the world.

For there to be truth, we must wade through lies to find it. That saying wasn’t something I was proud of, but the alternative was false flags, cherry-picking, and endless propaganda. When war seems all but won on the news, but your side has suffered 90% casualties, something needs to change. I couldn’t help but wonder what her skinny ass would look like on an impalement spike with the other propagandists.

“We at D TV are a reputable organization and only report the truth. Let’s look at the facts: there are only 3 survivors out of 300 people. The only ones to wear environmental suits are you three, and you happen to be the grandson of Senator Julius Walker. It doesn’t take a Master Enchanter to see the pattern.” The woman said.

I looked over the woman’s shoulder to see my mother stepping through the wall of power armor wearing Brickney armed with her practically legendary cavalry saber. Her butler held a parasol over her head as they walked to block out what little sunlight came through the sea of skyscrapers surrounding the dungeon.

“My son is a minor; anything he has said cannot be used without my permission.”

I didn’t know that. If I had known, I might have said something far more inflammatory. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to run my mouth, and for once, I was frugal with my responses.

The reporter’s face took on a rebellious look, and I knew she had lost. Or, more likely, she would sit on the information until I did something else while I was of age and play our little interview. I didn’t say anything too inflammatory, but it would be a tool against me.

“Why did you let him in the dungeon, and was it you who told him it was going infector?” The reporter asked.

Even if the people of Dis rebelled, it wouldn’t matter. To gain even the power to vote for a senator and exorcise force through voting, vast amounts of personal power were needed. The gullible people off the street wouldn’t make a difference. Limited suffrage was what our government was based on and it limited corruption for the most part. After all anyone could be born with the tamer class and rise through the ranks given enough time.

“We’re leaving. You will not speak to my son. My Attorney will be in touch with your supervisor presently. Enjoy the last fleeting moments of your career, Stacy.” Mother said.

A line of men brandishing tower shields and clubs pushed reporters and protesters away, giving us safe passage to my mother’s limo. We moved quickly as Sebastian, my mother’s driver, opened the door for us.

“No prisoners today, my lady,” Sebastion said.

I rolled my eyes at the monster. Sebastion was a spook at the best of times. He liked to hang back in the shadows and only struck killing blows, from what his mother’s reports said.

…

We were seated in mother’s limo and driving away while her eyes bore into me. “I need to tell you right now there will be no physical relationship between Melony and yourself. I forbid it.” Mom said.

“We aren’t, ok what’s going on? You never forbid something like that before.” I said.

“Don’t get in bed with bloodsuckers. Relationships between humans and vampires can only end in tragedy.”

She had never said anything like that when I wanted to have sex with Jean D Ark, the blonde-haired, dark-skinned princess herself, so what was going on. My mother was giving glances at Melony, and it was freaking me out. I looked between them and couldn’t get my head around it.

“I understand. I have many half-sisters who have human mothers but no stepmothers.” Melony said.

My mother froze and Sebastion smiled into the rearview mirror. “Do they all look like you?” Mother asked.

“Only two. The rest are from different women.” Melony said.

I was clearly missing something because my mother stilled in that way high-ranked people often did. Her grip on the chair tightened until I heard a ripping sound.

“How was your first dungeon? Was it scary? Brickney asked.

I was thankful for the change in subject. “No, we figured it out quickly. It was just lots of parasitic worms.” I said.

“Speaking of your first time in a dungeon. You wanted to venture into dungeons with me, correct.” Mother said.

I nodded slowly. “You will have a strict budget to adhere to and do everything I say. If that is agreeable, I see no reason why you can’t go with me and experience the upper floors with a team hired to look after you.”

I nearly jumped out of my seat. “Really, you mean it.”

My mother smiled in a way that meant I was being a complete idiot for being excited about what promised to be a terrifying experience and prideful that I was willing to put forth the effort.

“It will have to wait until Michael’s bride arrives. We wouldn’t want to ruin his big day.” Mother said.

I turned to the window and saw a bottle bounce off the window. There was only a small clinking sound as more trash hit the limo. Someone screamed, and I felt the limo run over a protestor. Sebastion only smirked in clear glee, and Mother had already returned to her tablet.

…

The more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Dad wasn’t the kind of guy who chased after family advancement or cared about blue blood. Grandfather would have taken the farmer girl and given her to one of us as an Easton-style concubine. While he preferred monogamy, he wouldn’t bat an eye at taking advantage when he could.

The only one who had the motivation to swap my class was my mother. She was a rank 5 tamer with power over parts of the system. If there was anyone capable of doing that, it was her. The reason why was completely backward. She was doing it for me. My mother didn’t like that we were growing up soft.

Confronting her about it would give the game away and reveal my nature as a cultivator. She might even be pissed enough to send me to a farm for the average number of years a farmer needed to max out their class. I looked it up, and it was 60. Dis had plenty of farmland out in the countryside where packs of black dogs roamed, picking people off.

Mandy’s brood was a prime example. They were some of the most vicious monsters I’ve ever heard of. She wanted me to make one of her pups my starter. I might as well pair with a maneater.

None of that mattered because I was a cultivator with limited resources. I snorted at that one. I had limited knowledge but plenty of resources. My amulet had gone through a kind of evolution after adding Blood Refinement to the greater skill.

I slowly removed the tungsten amulet to reveal a glowing red gem rotating in the air, ignoring gravity. To my newly developed other sight, it looked like a tiny golden star. Once, most of it was red like a red giant, but with refinement, the entire thing turned golden with tiny flecks of blue and green. To the visible eye, the gem glowed with red light and rotated slowly.

The gem’s skill had gone from lvl20 with the golden specks within to lvl50. I sealed the gem back inside my amulet, cutting off the light. Using the skill in various ways helped upgrade it but not based on the system. My Dantian fed my meridians, enhancing anything I did so long as I had blood Chi to burn. That resource was functionally endless, especially if I ended up going with my mother to dungeons.

I stared at my poster of the Fear Sisters and stared at Jean D Ark in her sexy red eyes. She was going to be mine. All I needed was power, lots and lots of power. To that end, we had a gym.

…

A day later, I started training my body to mixed results. Gains seemed to be somewhat reliant on emotions. Pain was a great motivator.

After 20 minutes of running on the track, I had only managed to increase my lung capacity thanks to the blood Chi. Power poured into my meridians in a gaseous form. I tried to increase my capacity for it and harden my meridians, but knowledge and need were a wall. In the meantime, black beads of sweat poured off of my forehead as I struggled.

The door to the indoor track slammed open, and a man wearing purple robes with the pointiest mustache I’ve ever seen made his way inside. A sinister grin spread across his face, and I could only think Easton assassin.

“You seem to have quite a bit of Blood Chi boy. What towns have you massacred?” The man asked.

Even tired, stinking with sweat, and aching from the cultivation, I knew for a fact a Rank 3 nobody couldn’t invade my home. We were all taught at an early age to recognize the ranks of people or monsters by how they moved and the pressure their aura made on the surrounding mana. This guy was a menace but not one I had to worry about. The Guards were mostly rank 3, with their leader, an Ares Blessed Ork, at rank 4. Mai’s father, Kato, was rank 5, and he just finished his workout in the gym not long ago.

There was a rumor that rank 6 tamers could see the system and all it connected to. They didn’t need custom-built skills or delicate enchanting materials.

“I’m guessing Grandfather sent you,” I said.

The man’s lips curved upward, and his mustache twitched. “Tell me the truth. You don’t want to waste my time.”

His aura pressed down on me, threatening to crack my weak Dantian from his presence alone. I felt two of my meridian channels rupture on the spot, and this was all from his aura pressing down on me. This was also an opportunity like a sudden grindstone for a dull ax.

I poured Blood Chi into myself and felt my Dantian flex as power flowed through me with a purpose. More sweat poured out of me, black and smelling of sewage as I struggled not to smile as the painful weight was turned into an opportunity.

“You look like every insane Blood Cultivator I’ve put down. Maybe I should cut your head off now and tell my benefactor you failed to impress me.” I tried not to laugh as I cranked up the Blood Chi and really pushed my Dantian. Cracks formed, and I used pay to win. Meridians burst and I paid Blood Chi to put them back together stronger than before. “You’re using my spiritual pressure to rapidly cross the distance between us. Forget a town. This is a whole city’s worth of innocents.”

He held up an artifact covered in a script I couldn’t recognize. “Is that a spirit tool?” I asked.

“And an artifact. I didn’t expect a Weston dog to know of true magic. This is the Evil Restriction teapot. It will strip you of your sins and rip away your evil Chi.” The cultivator said.

I stared at it and couldn’t help but wonder if my encryptions and two-step password protections would be enough. Should I be worried that I’m using a similar operating system with altogether different results? Technically speaking, I should have immediately gone for rank 2 when I had the energy. But, then, I would miss out on building a strong foundation.

I felt my Dantian and Meridian grow stronger as I resisted the cultivator. The formation activated, and I felt an almighty pressure fall upon me and pull with all its might. Tired, crushed, and feeling filthy, I pushed myself to my feet. This was my home, and I wasn’t going to let him steal from me.

The refined Blood Chi roiled in my gem as I pushed more in my body and my Dantian and Meridian’s expanded as cracks appeared throughout my system. I pushed more power into myself. Who cared about spending a few thousand Westons when I had a billion. It was strange, though none of my Blood Chi went to his spirit tool. The only conclusion I could draw was user error. My rank was only 1, and the artifact was rank 3, so its activation alone stressed the Hades out of my spiritual organs. The man looked between me and his artifact, a big jade teapot covered in formations.

“So what are you going to do when Kato comes? I’m not going to brag, but of my father’s children, I’m his favorite. I’m not saying he’s going to pop your head off your body like a bottle cap, but that seems like the outcome we’re heading for.” I said.

The man didn’t even flinch, so he was probably invited. “Well, I can confirm you used no unsavory methods to reach your power. Was it all feral monsters in that dungeon?”

It was time to blow his mind. “Blood Synthesizer, actually,” I said.

“A complete and total absence of Evil Chi is quite promising, my student. In my Sect this teapot was used on every new initiate to separate the truly evil from the down on their luck. But where are my manners? You may call me Master Yang Da, Master Yang, or merely Master if you are feeling informal.”

“First question: does my mother know you’re here?” I asked.

The man rolled his eyes. “Of course, I am to be your Eastonese tutor. Your Grandfather has sent her a letter proclaiming an interest in turning you into his ambassador to the Easton Empire.” Yang Da said.

“Is there any truth to that?” I asked.

The man chortled and grinned maliciously. “Yes, you will go to Easton when you are ready and can speak my language like a native.” Yang Da said in a very Hellmouth accent. I could have mistaken him by voice alone as a citizen born and raised in Naraka or Pandemonium.

The pressure I relied on to refine my Meridians and Dantian died down when the Yang Da closed the lid to the teapot. I nearly slumped when his aura diminished. “The myth that all humans can cultivate isn’t entirely false after all. I must ask how you managed the feat.” Yang Da said.

“Why should I tell you?” I asked.

“Because without me, you will bumble about in ignorance and half-truths.”

 I sat down on the running track while filth continued to roll down my body. Yang Da was coerced to help me by my Grandfather. He wouldn’t be here if that wasn’t the case. Telling him wouldn’t hurt me directly, but it could destroy us. Bumbling in the dark was what I was doing before and I was doing fine.

“Maybe you’re right; it will take much longer to reach greater power without your help. I will have to wait for the next Easton seeking asylum that Grandfather sends my way. Do you need to be escorted out?” I asked.

His eyes blazed, and his aura slammed down harder than before. My teeth clenched and it was everything I could do to fight back as he tried to crush my Dantian with his aura alone. I filled in the cracks and used the opportunity to expand, repeatedly moving the Blood Chi through my meridians to counter his assault. I coughed out a mouth full of blood and smiled with bloody teeth.

“I faced off against an infector dungeon. What is a random Easton cultivator in comparison?”

He grasped the sword at his side and drew it slowly. His aura changed, and centered on the blade the invisible force that weighed on me before had condensed to fit the edge of his blade. For once, when I tried to move my Chi, it answered. My Chi moved at my command and tried to protect my Meridians and Dantian as the man cut the air. I opened my mouth and screamed silently as whole sections of my system were cut. Before my spiritual sight, they were blinking, failing, and going dark. I pulled my Eagle out, and the cultivator put his sword away.

“Do not panic. This happens often during cultivation sessions, battles, and many other practices. The man pulled a tablet from his robes and showed it to me. I saw how Meridians moved through the body and where they were.” Slowly, I moved to each one and reattached them. When my memory of where they bent to went fuzzy, I forced Blood Chi into myself, and the memories started to clear. “This is how you shall learn. I will create a problem, and you will find the solution. If you cannot find it then you will live with the consequences or tell me a part of your secret worth my help. I am here to teach you under your Grandfather’s orders. You cannot have me removed by your father’s weapon.”

“Yes, Master Yang Da.” I said.

The man smirked, and it was so sinister.

…

Over the next week, for four hours a day, I trained with Master Yang Da. Or, more precisely, he tore apart my meridians, and I reattached or regrew them between blows. All the while, he weighed down on me with his aura, a direct manifestation of his Chi that I couldn’t figure out. When we fought, I always lost, only ever lost, sometimes better or worse, as I struggled to make my Chi work for me.

Every loss taught me something, and I had already started compiling a notebook filled with the little techniques and tricks a cultivator needed to know. Combat against someone stronger was all about repairing my spiritual organs from pressure damage between blows.

A recording played while I nursed my cracked jaw and bruised ribs. “Why don’t you make a skill to protect yourself with chi?” A small statue of Hephaestus sitting on the shelf overlooking my desk in the back of my workshop glared down at me. Ironically, looking deeper into the mysteries of the world had made me more religious instead of less.

The question the man asked tauntingly had gotten to me at the time and I did draw up some plans for chi skills. Unfortunately, I had no skills to rip apart and draw from. Even using the power source alone with difficult because the field was unexplored. I thought about starting with a rank 1 Avatar skill as a frame and working from there.

Whenever I tried to form the skill I wanted, something failed to balance, to grasp Chi, or to work as a vessel. My amulet worked because it wasn’t storing Chi or cultivating. It stored blood, refined it, and transported it to my Dantian. The tool I used to cultivate at the end of the day only worked to prepare the blood to become Blood Chi.

I checked the clock there wasn’t much time left, I was expected to join my family at the gate to welcome Mari Summers. My brother’s fiancé and the woman who took my class. Mai raised her headset, pausing the Evil at Home X remake she had been playing while I worked.

“What do you think Mari Summers will be like?”

“She was given your class to escape becoming a farmer. I’m thinking spoiled rich girl?” Mai said.

While the Oni kept herself in shape and chased the ever-elusive rank up from 1 to 2, she was more my friend first and monster second. Even if I didn’t say anything, she knew the score and wouldn’t leave me alone on arrival day.

“I hope not. That would be insufferable.” I said.

My business email chimed, and I checked it out to see a new contact. Some companies wanted me to place an Adaption, Berserk, Training, and Regeneration set of skills onto a pill for 100,000W. It wasn’t just enchantment work. It was real skill smith work. I read the company name Solo Upgrading. Below was their slogan, building the heroes of tomorrow one step at a time.

I had a feeling I knew what they wanted. From one of Gabriel’s distributors, they must have heard about my cheap enchantments. There was a reason why gems were in fancy armor and weapons. While blades had crystalline latticework in their metal for enchantments to take hold to pull this off it couldn’t be a permanent enchantment. Meaning forgetting one use of the enchantments themselves would break down over time.

The money sounded sweet, but I needed some quick and dirty power to pull it off. All it needed was to last until whatever poor fool who volunteered to test it on swallowed it. Enchantments could be activated from objects, including skills, but that didn’t mean swallowing a pill could put the skill into the body’s cells.

“That is a lot of zeroes. It’s a fiftieth of what you need to buy me from your father. Do you want me to suck your dick while you make the enchantment? I will get on my knees and work so long as you don’t play with my horn too much.” Mai said.

My face went beet red at her words, and yeah, we had sex, but she hadn’t been so forward before. The Oni smirked at me and winked, but my heart didn’t calm down, and all thoughts of enchantment vanished.

“We don’t have any time for fun we have to see my brother’s arranged baby factory,” I said.

“Don’t say that out loud. Your mother will spank you like you’re 10 again.” Mai said.

“Forget my mother. Your father would if I disrespected our house,” I said.

Kato was a 9-foot-tall Asura Oni at rank 5, bordering rank 6. The only reason that the demigod wasn’t rank 6 was because he was waiting for Dad to catch up. It’s why I wasn’t popping Mai’s cherry until she was mine. Dad’s Ace or not I remember all too well being disciplined by the terrifying Oni.

“Do you still want to be a tamer?” Mai asked.

The question felt like a knife, and it stabbed deeply, but I was ready for it.

“Do you still think you’ll be an Indra Oni by 30?” I asked.

“Yes, because it is my dream, and I have a sweet genius Skill Smith friend who will help me. Though I have to admit, despite taking my butt virginity, he hasn’t been a very good friend lately. I hardly eat anything that will give me more than a couple attribute points. As for attribute fruit, forget about it.” Mai said.

I thought about it, and I cut off that path perhaps a little hastily. Only my knowledge, culture, language, ethnicity, and family name really connected me to Weston. I internally rolled my eyes. Being a monster tamer wasn’t the be-all and end-all, even if I couldn’t vote, hold office, or hold a special wartime power rank in the military. Dad would still sell Mai to me, and that was enough.

As for the rest, all we really needed was money and access to dungeons. Oni’s were fairly mapped out, and I knew the path forward. To get her to a 5th rank Indra Oni, I needed roughly 5,566,995,300W. So, roughly 2000 times my current savings. Unfortunately, the gem sales were slowing down, and I claimed most of the good pieces for myself.

“After I buy you from Dad, we’ll go find a dungeon full of monsters that benefit you best, or I might become a farmer and breed them just for you. Wouldn’t that be ironic?” I asked.

“Let's get dressed. As your monster, I should be seen with you on these special occasions.” Mai said.

“You should know to do what Solo wants. I’m going to have to rent the horses in some nearby stables and do things to their bodies to generate power for enchanting.” I said.

“How much will we make from this one?” Mai asked.

“About 99,500W,” I said.

We were fortunate that enchanting was a highly respected profession, and I would have to take the certification test to access the farm so cheaply. For the best results, I had to do some Alchemy research, something I hadn’t done in a year.

My face twitched at the thought of buying more books on the subject to get the certification I needed. Blood Chi, fortunately, helped me remember and absorb information quickly. Since a pill was involved, I needed to study up on alchemy, even the old stuff, since I needed part of an alchemy technique to gather power for the enchantment.

Pills were no good for enchanting. In a sense, the end result was to connect the pill to an artificial latticework made from concentrated mana. That mana latticework would be the anchor for the enchantment. It would be easier to create the latticework and enchantment on nothing. I was attempting ancient phantasmal enchanting with an extra step. It was exciting because it was new and difficult to the point of redundancy. After all, the system was completely broken.

But the customer was always right. And I came upon an unhappy realization.

I was excited about enchanting, and it tore at something inside of me. And I felt a small burst of power as what felt like a blocked channel opened.

…

Trumpets were the first sign something had gone wrong with my brother’s betrothal. I flinched away as Master Yang Da put a restraining hand on my shoulder. He wore a nicer set of purple robes and greased his mustache. Dad gave the man a room and winked at me whenever he could like we were sharing some kind of secret. Mom seemed completely confused, and by the arguments she had with both of them she was out of the loop.

When I saw the man my first instinct was to throw a fist in the only way I knew would land. Chi flowed from my meridians as I drew upon the almost absent Chi in the air. Most of it simply flowed into the man from the sword on his side. He wore a Jian that did things I didn’t quite understand. From the weapon, Master Yang Da could cultivate in Weston despite the Chi deficiency caused by Chi-consuming monsters like Mai.

Oni were well known for absorbing Chi and producing a deadly form of Demonic Chi called Youki.

Master Yang Da turned his chin toward the coming parade.  

Flora Dryads danced with their pink flower petal atop their heads, spilling the sweet scent of nectar through the air. Blaze Nymphs followed behind, twirling flaming batons into the air while Naiads joined them. Pious priests preached sermons about the love and commitment between husband and wife.

They, fortunately, left out all the interesting stories about Heral quarreling with Zues and rebelling against him. If I hadn’t spent much of my childhood watching cartoons, movies, and a live-action series about the gods and their many stories, maybe I could have fooled myself into believing Zeus and Hera had a happy marriage. It was funny, really, because I didn’t recall Demeter ever giving Zeus a hard time. From the stories, Zues had many wives, but only Hera was the one with jealousy issues. Maybe I was wrong, and Demeter had subtler methods of showing her displeasure.

Mai whispered in my ear. “350,000W so far.” I nodded back to her.

“Student, what was that?” Master Yang Da asked.

“Something to relieve the boredom, master,” I said.

“Then let me assist you with a lesson. Those are Flora Dryads from the Carthage Islands off the Western coast of the Helen territory. Do you see the way they shake their hips when they dance?” I nodded. “Pay close attention to how others move, and you may ascertain their intent. Can you tell me what this spectacle is for?” Master Yang Da asked.

This wasn’t like his normal lessons, where he beat me in the direction he wanted. I wasn’t forced to rebuild my meridians stronger, grow and condense my Dantian, or shield my organs with Chi. This lesson wouldn’t force me to learn how to strike by failing a thousand times as I break and put myself back together. In a week, Master Yang Da became my favorite teacher.

He hadn’t assigned homework, told me what to do, or forced an ideology on me. All he did was act, and I could either adapt or fall apart. From his lessons I had become so much more powerful in a week than I ever expected. It wasn’t from lifting heavy objects, or learning moved from Fight Club Online. I reviewed fights, copied his moves, where I sensed his Chi move, and ran simulations in my head fed by Blood Chi.

…

Yang Da, formerly of the Devil Sword Sect, stared down at the little monster he was raising and smirked at himself. A carp who became a dragon didn’t need a master to learn how to soar, only the waterfall to climb and a rainbow to jump over. The former Elder had become the rush of rapids, the grindstone of gravity, and the unreachable rainbow.

What kind of boy late to cultivation could put his Meridians and Dantian back together? This boy wasn’t from a cultivation clan, or else he would have been showered in resources and wasted away like all the other worthless young masters. They were seedlings overwatered until their roots rotted. A boy like Atom Walker didn’t need a kind Uncle or a guiding hand. A Skill Smith and Enchanter, even unlicensed with the former, was the equivalent of a Formations and Alchemy Seedling in the sects. From what the reports claimed, his own mother traded his future as a tamer, and that fate could not be borne by the little monster. He tore out the system and replaced it with Demonic cultivation that took no mortal lives.

Demonic cultivation that was paradoxically virtuous was powerful indeed. Atom was a new type of cultivator independent of the flow of Chi.

The boy was baffling, mad, and a genius with no talent in fighting, scheming, or negotiation. Yang Da expected the child to cave and yield his secrets for lessons; instead, he learned the former Sect Elder’s own fighting style and dared to use it against him. Yang Da had thought it was through genius levels of observation, but spying on the boy revealed the truth. Atom studied, burnt Blood Chi to simulate battle, and worked until he could put up a fight. He used more resources than any seedling could ever get their hands on but returned so much more.

His question was another step in his attempts to mold Julius Walker’s grandson into a cultivator his former Sect would declare a blood feud to obtain.

“They are whores aren’t they.”

He stifled a laugh. All boys at that age think the same, but that was alright. This lesson wasn’t about something so simple.

“Most ladies for hire can double as them for the right face and coin. No, pay attention. Why would a former noble want these dancers here? What secret message is she trying to convey with this front?” Master Yang Da asked.

The boy looked closer at the faces of the ladies. “That is Ophelia, I can tell by the slight blackening at the end of her petals and the way she braided her vines. She is an influencer not only among the Flora dryads but among nymphs and other West Coast monster groups.” I said.

He shook his head. “A good find but does she share that in common with the others?”

The old fox didn’t really know much about West Coast culture or the monsters of that region. Spirit beasts were only valuable to a cultivator for their cores and, in certain sects, bloodlines. The dreaded demon beasts were the equivalent of his own title of Elder. This lavish display of wealth, having spirit beasts dance and sing to one’s betrothed, would be a welcome sign from a groom but a great insult from the bride’s family. The message was clear to him, no matter the culture. Look at how rich we are compared to you. What right do you have to marry our daughter. Indeed, if an outsider looked upon this event with the Walker family lined up to receive this parade, it may be a sign the bride’s family is looking for a replacement suitor. As he recalled, the prize was already given to the bride’s family. Why, then, should they, a former noble family, give a precious daughter to those of common blood.

Atom looked on taking in the event with a calculating gaze. What did he see with his genius mind, Weston background, and clear knowledge of the betrayal’s source?

“Should I feel insulted?”

To have such a genius willing to learn lessons outside his scope was a beautiful thing indeed. He smiled at the boy with his friendliest grin. As with all students, the boy shied away from praise a pity.

“Your parents are the equivalent of Sect Masters, Direct Aides to Imperial Ministers, or Princelings of my home country. The daughter of a fallen regime dared to show their son anything but signs of submission as a good, faithful wife. This would be all the reason those of their station in my homeland to stamp out the remaining embers of the Summer Clan.”

The Matron of the Walker Clan, Emily Walker, gave the Elder a harsh glare but nodded her agreement all the same. It seemed she was aware of the disrespect being shown. Allen Walker, the patriarch of the Walker Clan, smiled as the Arch Demon Beast, the Asura Oni Kato, stood beside him. The creature, fully dressed in war gear, remained a towering pillar of the family’s power. There were no jewels on the incredible monster’s body. Every artifact he bore was enchanted in a way that did not require a nucleus-style power source. The Walker Clan's wealth was on display as well in a far subtler way. Easton and Weston, despite the differences in system, culture, and ideals, held undeniable similarities. No clan would allow another to flaunt their wealth and express their power without retaliation. A burst of pure wrath radiated from Kato, and the Flora Dryads shrieked, fires sputtered out, and the priests choked on their own tongues.

There were deaths in the parade, and the Summer daughter was forced to request aid from the Walker family to deal with this misfortune. It was a good sign. 

…

Gordino, or Dino for short, held the dead body of Ao, his River Nymph companion, for the last six months as he wandered the wilderness searching for civilization. It happened so fast. He stood beside Mari’s side as her bodyguard and future husband, no matter what some rich family said. His friend Martin was purple in the face, choking to death because he didn’t have the attributes to resist a monster’s anger.

It had been 6 months since Dino left Earth by truck and ended up in this arse-backward world. Armed with a system unlike any other, he thought it was only a matter of time before he slew the evil gods and found a way home.

He had thought that his only problems would be the 12 Olympians and getting rid of this arranged marriage. A show of power was what Mari claimed would get the job done. So he busted his arse and completed quests with Ao, all for this disaster. He had already lost one of his girls, and the prick Michael was trying to take the other. So what if he was rich? Dino wouldn’t let him have Mari. He had something no one else could match.

Skill

Primordial Reaper lvl10

Rank: 10

Description: A shard of the Primordial terror is embedded in your soul. Formed in the hatred and rage of the world’s heart, even a fragment of the first Patricide can usurp the power of others. With this shard of Othrys, you are unbound by fate, and those slain with this power surrender a percentage of their future attributes depending on the disparity between the user and the slain. Even the gods themselves fear this power, for it can slay even immortals.

Dino held his fist and felt a shadowy gauntlet appear around his fist. In his rage, he felt it spread up his arm, ending at his elbow. He only needed to fight and kill more monsters, and soon he would surpass these rich cunts.

"I'm sorry, Gordino, but I don’t think we can be together anymore. The Fates are against us.” Mari said.

“Screw them. Believe in me, Mari, I am the hero.” Dino said.

…

Month: Summer

Day: 64

I sat across from my parents in the study. Books and scrolls from across Weston, from ancient temples to the newest texts on taming. What once was a private study had expanded until walls were knocked down to fit it all. The library itself was an expression of wealth and power, like the parade.

My parents had troubled looks on their faces, and I hoped this wasn’t the moment they revealed their secrets. Blood Chi roiled in my meridians, hot and dangerous.

“Do you have something to say in your defense?”

My eyes widened. The gig was up. Did they know  I destroyed my System connection? I narrowed my eyes. This wasn’t as bad as it could be. Buying Mai would be difficult, but I wasn’t in a bad situation. Solo Upgrade sent another email after I accepted their request, hinting at a partnership after they saw my work.

Three weeks of training with Master and I could deflect aura slices and hold my own in a fight, and I booked 6 hours at a horse ranch during the full moon. Enchantments that didn’t use gems that could hold, store, and collect mana on their own required rituals. I was forced to dive headfirst into the darkest ritualist magic imaginable to find a reliable power-generation ritual. After gaining a small foundation in such magic, I needed Alchemy information, particularly homunculus creation and supplies. From there I journeyed on the most cursed forums and spoke with villains that belonged in Tartarus Prison. Legal Pedophilia was disgusting, no matter how the entities were made. 

It was only two weeks after my research had been altered for the easy money from Solo. The price I was going to pay was still only 500W for renting to use a stable’s mares for 6 hours.

“You’re on a watch list,” Dad said, and Mom turned away, ashamed.

“Did you think we wouldn’t find out? We get your bank statements we know money is coming in from a side business. Then, you rented out an entire farm. Your mother and I have seen your internet history.” Dad said.

I was confused. Did I inherit my hatred of enchanting from Dad? That would make sense but he never spoke of it to me. Well, I could understand it wasn’t a popular opinion.

“When did these urges begin?” Mom asked.

I didn’t think about it. “Grandpa Ross’s Farm,” I said.

Back then, I was bored out of my mind because Mom forbade us from using any technology, and to entertain myself without riding for the 1000th time, I picked up an old enchantment textbook. From that moment, I understood that enchantment was a convoluted mess of a magic system. And from that moment, I also understood that enchantment was a useful mess of a magic system.   

“I’ve read about this. When children go through puberty, what they are around and what they watch has a big impact on their development.” Dad said.

“Explain to me then I grew up there, and my first monsters came from there.” Mom said.

“I don’t see what's wrong with it,” I said.

“You don’t. We aren’t nobles we can’t always assassinate and bribe people to keep our secrets.” Dad said.

“Tons of people do it. It’s a thriving business industry that brings in billions of Westons a year.” I said.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Mom said.

Dad slammed his hand down on the table. “Son, that’s enough. We can find a way to discreetly take care of these urges of yours, but you can’t rent out a ranch so openly. Maybe it’s time you thought about purchasing some land, perhaps to the North near Canite. I heard you met Melony Nightroad. Did you like her?”

“Yes, but she’s busy,” I said.

“Any woman,” Mom slammed her hand on the table.

“No son of mine will have children with a vampire.” Mom said.

Dad gave my mother an utterly confused look. “The damage to our reputation is done. Go and see to your needs at that ranch, but after that, I don’t want to hear about you renting horses again.” Dad said.

I blinked, finally understanding what this was all about. “Don’t worry, I’m not into children,” I said.

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say because both of my parents looked at me oddly. “I know alchemy seems terrible, but it has its uses,” I said.

The blank expressions I got from that were confusing. “Please leave and shut the door. Your mother and I have things to discuss.”

…

Emily Walker stared at her husband slumped in a chair looking completely unlike the person she tried to display to her children or peers. Never in her life had she felt so defeated. Her 4th born son was a degenerate horse lover. Poseidon must have blessed him strangely indeed. Was it some kind of religious thing having an orgy with mares under the full moon. That was the kind of insanity only heard about in old Easton propaganda. Who reads the enemy's propaganda and thinks, that’s what I want to do?

“We could partner him with a centauress,” Allen said.

The suggestion had enough merit, and it was far less shameful than the truth. Some of the sites Adam had been on had pictures of mare vaginas and diagrams of how best to pleasure the animals. It was insane.

“Maybe he’ll grow out of it. Like he said, he isn’t into children.” Emily said.

“Do you think that was a suggestion? Was he asking us to give him a young centauress?” Allen asked.

She hoped that wasn’t the case. In a tamer household, having sex with monsters was acceptable. Even having sex with animal-like monsters was acceptable so long as consent was given. Atom could have hired a whore from the Southern Centaur herds and taken a train to take care of his needs. They had seen his bank statements 2.5 million Westons was nothing to sneeze at. The fact he earned most of it from outside the family discreetly was impressive. Automated systems were still counting a steady increase in Westons and the transport of enchanted items. It must be a deal with Melony.

After seeing the girl Emily took an interest in her and found her secret daughter had a certificate in enchantment. Those weren’t easy to get and to be at a level to mass enchant product worthy of selling with obvious repeat customers was impressive. But she didn’t want a relationship with her unexpected daughter enough for Emily to make Melony her daughter twice over. The ban on vampires was an excuse that Allen thankfully accepted at the time.

“It would be a scandal and sweep the current one under the rug. We can talk with your father’s propaganda team about slipping rumors that Adam is looking for a companion among the Southern herds of the younger variety.” Emily said.

“Kato will be disappointed. We both thought little Mai and Atom had something.” Allen said.

Emily closed her eyes and silently screamed in her head. Markus was a difficult child and currently exploring the Southern coast with a mermaid, of all things. She planned to arrange a tournament to marry her daughter Louri at the first opportunity. Fortunately, Emily was certain she already knew her daughter’s type. Louri would have a nice relationship with a human tamer of great skill. Jill and July, the twins, were off on the Western Coast on their adventure together.

“How much of the list were you able to get through?” Emily asked.

“Not much, but the names told me everything I needed to know.”

…

I counted 14 jars filled with fertile soil, human DNA, and precisely measured mana. The old adage from the failed chimera god religion from dust you were born to dust you’ll return was somewhat true with alchemy. Mana was where the magic really happened and a ritual practiced so often that a force within mana itself acted upon it. A small amount of Willpower from all who study alchemy and Enchanting guides the mana around Weston forcing it to work by specific rules. Mai walked behind me with a 5-gallon drum of lube over her shoulder. Our driver, who was definitely sending information back to my mother, stared at us with a creepy smile on his face.

“I would ask what all these interesting devices are for, but I’m sure I don’t want to know. Your poor mother.” Sebastion cackled.

“How was I supposed to know she hated mixing alchemy with enchanting?” Sebastion opened his mouth and closed it before turning his head in confusion. “That is a new one.”

I shrugged. “Mom is old-fashioned and believes that all forms of magic should be kept separate. Tamers shouldn’t throw fireballs, and Enchanting techniques shouldn’t use Alchemy. I think using astrology in my steps tipped her over the edge.” I said.

The bird monster chuckled before bursting out with full-blown laughter until he started cawing. “Oh, Master Yang Da, I will be sure to report that you showed up to chaperone,” Sebastion said.

I turned to see the purple robe-wearing man smirk with his normal malevolence. “What do you have planned?”

“A simple homunculus creation hastened by the moon and stars. We unfortunately don’t have any red stone to add to the mix, but that’s ok this method should generate more than enough power for the enchantment.” I said.

“Interesting, how does the creation of these creatures also generate energy.”

“Upon their birth, they release a large amount of life force. I plan to harvest the excess into an enchantment to allow it to last long enough for an experiment by Solo Upgrade to be completed. It's very technical, and we don’t have time to explain it we need to gather the mares and take them into the moonlight. Then we have to deal with some unpleasantness. I swear to Zeus, alchemy is almost as backward as Enchanting.” I said.

…

I shoved jars into many horse twats because some old alchemist thought that was the best way to simulate a womb thousands of years ago. On the bright side, it worked. The mana germinated the human DNA in the jars with the fertile soil stored within. Unfortunately, the mares were the problem. It took most of the time to get them into position, and the jars were extremely uncomfortable, no matter the lube. I personally hated every minute of it, and we didn’t finish the process on sight. The jars were germinating, but the horses scuffed too much of the ritual circle to matter. In other words, back to the drawing board, I had 14 jars. Instead of developing homunculus, we had red slime nuclei in everyone. I was sure the lube somehow helped seep horse DNA into the jars, corrupting the results.

“Atom, why don’t we just use a metal pill from mercury.”

I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. “That won’t work. Mercury is poisonous.”

“So,” Mai said.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Slap a warning of metal poisoning on it and give them the enchantment they want. What are we going to do with the slimes?” Mai asked.

“We’ll put them in a program to teach them basic alchemy and lab assistance and put them on a diet that will develop them into humanoid forms for their second stage. I think it's around 1,200W each, so that will put us back about 16,800W plus tax. That way, this won’t be a complete waste.” I said.