Chapter 129 - Stronger

It took Blake far longer to reach Oliver’s alchemy workshop than he expected. The streets were not only packed with refugees waiting to be processed, but with thousands of established faction members as well. Kids played tag in the streets, oblivious to any danger, while merchants scolded them for getting in the way of their carts.

Blake carefully caught a small child who had not paid attention before she tripped over his feet.

We should really get these kids off the streets. Maybe make a playground for them or something.

While almost all raw resources could be teleported through the warehouse instantaneously, finished or scavenged goods required manual transport. In Blake’s previous life, crafters had eventually developed shielded, enchanted vehicles, capable of flight. Aetheric enchantments are able to reduce the weight of even the largest load to nothing, provided they are fed enough energy.

Unfortunately, Debra and the other enchanter’s skill levels were not yet at that level. For now, woodworkers and blacksmiths had created a stopgap measure which worked, albeit inefficiently. Wooden carts with metal wheels and axles were pulled along their town’s wide roads with horses. While this solved their immediate transportation problem, it created another. 

Horse dung was littered throughout the gravel roads.

Blake not only had to weave through the crowds, he was forced to watch the placement of his feet as well. He had already stepped in a small pile, which took almost five minutes to clean off his nano-enhanced boot, and was determined to avoid further nastiness.

The fact that his faction members continuously recognized him further delayed his progress. Most only nodded their heads in polite greeting, and a few even scurried away in fear. However, some felt the need to stop him in the street, shake his hand, and tell their life’s story. To remain polite, he listened to each for a few moments before he extracted himself from the conversation with a quick apology.

Maybe I should start wearing a disguise.

He briefly considered the convenience of concealed travel, but almost immediately dismissed it. If Blake wanted to be a good faction leader, he needed to be more visible and available to his faction members, not less.

He made it to the door of the alchemy workshop as he shook the hand of one more grateful faction member. 

Finally.

Oliver’s alchemy workshop was now level two, and was much larger as a result. The stone building was almost fifty percent larger than before, and looked far nicer. Blake entered the air-cooled building and swiftly closed the door behind him. 

The cacophony of the street immediately quieted.

Much better.

Blake paused for a moment and released the breath he did not realize he held. He found himself in a cozy lobby with two doors. He peeked inside the first and found it occupied by someone he did not know. Inside the second, he found his brother, hard at work. 

Oliver stood rigidly before his workbench, back to Blake, as he concentrated on his task. His arms were solidly raised before him, and each hand held a different colored vial. Suddenly, liquid floated up from its confines into the air. The chemicals met and then twisted around each other in a spiral as they began to mix.

Blake’s brows rose.

Wow. I didn’t know alchemists could do that.

Blake silently observed the phenomenon. His brother stood solid as a statue. Over the course of a few minutes, the speed of rotation increased until Blake could no longer distinguish between the two liquids. As they combined, Blake began to notice a small tremor in the once steady arms.  Oliver’s hands began to shake under the effort. Eventually, the tremors became violent enough that it altered the process.

Steaming liquid escaped the bounds and splattered against the far wall, while the majority collapsed to the bench beneath him. Blake instinctively flinched. After the failure, Oliver let out a frustrated scream and slammed his hands down onto the messy bench multiple times.

Blake waited until his brother’s temper calmed before he broke the silence. “That sucks.”

Oliver tensed and whirled around in surprise. When he saw it was his brother, he let out a sigh and, to Blake’s surprise, relaxed against the bench. “Yeah, it does.”

“I thought you found a way past the tremors.” Blake stated. “What happened?”

Oliver huffed and then ran a hand through his hair. “Naw. I can suppress them for a bit, but eventually it’s too much.” He then looked Blake straight in the eyes with an accusatory tone in his voice. “You said I’d be able to cure myself, but nothing I make does shit. How much longer is this gonna be a thing?”

Blake sighed and replied softly. “I don’t know.”

Before his brother could protest, he raised his hands and explained, “Remember, I wasn’t an alchemist, I was a fighter. You also weren’t around, so I had no reason to look into the specifics on cures for genetic diseases. I know there are potions that can do it, but I don’t know what they are.”

“So, what, I just keep plugging away, hoping that I’ll unlock something eventually?” Oliver said bitterly.

“Pretty much,” Blake admitted and did not meet his brother’s eyes.

Oliver snorted and then turned to clean up his work area with a rag. “Big help you are.”

Blake felt a twinge of guilt. 

He did know of a cure, but it was for combat classes only, and he dared not tell Oliver. When someone passed through the first threshold to level ten, their body was completely reforged. Genetics were altered and improved, while flaws were eliminated.

In his past life, when he reached level twenty-five and passed through the second threshold, his body only required an hour of sleep per week. Pain could be suppressed at will, and he could hold his breath for over two hours. Food was no longer necessary, he could subside on energy alone, although he still ate. Not only was the taste and texture of high level cuisine amazing, but it provided attribute enhancements as well.

Unfortunately, the threshold elixir not only required one to complete difficult objectives tailored to an individual, but a high level alchemist capable of compounding the potion as well. But, even if his brother used his wealth and purchased ten full levels of a combat class, there was no way he would survive the challenge. Those objectives were always dangerous, and had to be completed alone. 

It’s dangerous enough for a normal person. With his disease, it’s a death sentence.

Blake attempted to pick up the mood. “Well, it’s not like you’re wasting your time. Dad said you’re getting all kinds of ‘first’ achievements. What kind of rewards do alchemists get for those?”

Oliver walked over to the sink and wrung out his soaked rag. When he eventually answered, his voice was almost despondent. “Just stuff that’s useful for making potions. You probably saw one of the rewards. Once a day, I can mix stuff without a centrifuge. It’s supposed to provide better results and increase my chances of success.” He snorted derisively. “A fat lot of good that does me. Even that gets ruined.”

“Is it just the high level stuff that you’re having trouble with, or are low level potions a problem, too?”

“Naw. The basics are easy. I can make scent washes or attribute enhancers by the dozens. Those are my bread and butter. It’s the more complex stuff that’s the problem. I’m worried the others are gonna pass me up and leave me behind.”

“Is that why you’re working eighteen-hour days?”

Oliver turned and shot Blake an incredulous look. “Are you spying on me or something?” “No, but mom and dad must be. They’re worried that you’re working yourself too hard and are gonna get burned out.”

His brother suddenly barked a laugh. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Blake shrugged. “I never said I was worried. I’m glad you’re working your ass off.”

Oliver turned back to his task, but just before he did, Blake thought he saw a hint of a smile.

“Actually, speaking of scent washes and attribute potions, I’m going to need to restock. I plan on grinding out some Lupus scenarios tomorrow morning, and I’m pretty much out.”

“I don’t have any here, but you can buy them from my vendor like everyone else.”

“What, no friends and family discount?” Blake complained in mock outrage.

Oliver snorted. “Oh please, mister billionaire. Like you need a discount.”

“So, where do I find this ‘vendor’ you speak of?”

“Hank’s in the market like everyone else.”

“The market?” Blake asked, confused.

Oliver shot him a look of disbelief. “How do you not know about the market? Isn’t this town supposed to be yours?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, I haven’t exactly had time to go shopping. I’ve been kind of busy.”

His brother grunted. “The market’s four blocks over on crafter’s row. It’s between the second warehouse and the horse stalls.” 

“Thanks,” Blake nodded. “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“See ya later.” Oliver then smirked. “And don’t work too hard, you don’t wanna get burned out.”

Blake rolled his eyes and waved goodbye. With the conversation over, he could now in good conscience tell his father he tried.

***

Sir Kasey Mescal stared at his clipboard as he dryly read off his latest status report. “We’re up to a hundred and eighty-two guards. Seventy-four are level one with maxed out attributes, another fifty-three are still in the process, and the other fifty-five are still level zero. So far, the ‘four on, four off’ work schedule seems to be working. It allows them enough time to train and run scenarios when they’re not manning the wall or keeping the peace.”

After he finished his report, the Pinetop head of security paused for a moment as if unsure of himself before he continued. “I’d like to propose a new organization.”

Blake leaned forward in his chair, for the first time in the council meeting his interest was piqued.

“As you know, our scavengers have started hiring off-duty guards and other combat classes to escort them as they work. Right now, it’s seen as a side-gig, a bit of extra cash for minimal danger. The problem is, it all works by word of mouth. Some people are booked solid, two weeks out, while others get no business at all. Because of that, rates are all over the place. If we create an official organization of people for hire, we can smooth this out and make it far more efficient.”

Not a bad idea.

Blake saw nods around the table from all the usual attendees, both those present and those who only appeared through holo-chat. After a bit of back and forth to hash out the details, the motion was approved and funded. The meeting continued and the other heads of security gave their own reports, which included the full census of those in his faction’s employ.

I still can’t believe thousands of people answer to me. It’s unreal.

In his past life, Blake had been in charge of nothing. At best, one could say he led his combat team, but even that was a stretch. He felt he was closer to a peacekeeper between Montgomery and Rajesh than a leader. This time, however, thousands of people relied on his decisions. 

Soon, that would turn to tens of thousands, if it had not already. It would take days to transport and process the tens of thousands of people who intended to flee to the safety of Pinetop.

While he dwelled on the major changes between the timelines, Corwin Taylor began to speak with his gravelly voice. The intelligence advisor gave his own updates on new factions and disputes. During the dry brief, Blake’s mind continued to wander, until he heard something that alarmed him. Wait, what did he just say?

“I’m sorry, say that again,” he leaned forward in his chair and interrupted. The older man now commanded his full attention.

Corwin frowned in disapproval, but repeated himself. “I said the Sonoran Empire has drawn a lot of criticism from Warner’s faction for their hostile takeover. Over the past few days, the Sonoran Empire’s faction leader has single-handedly assaulted both the mayor of Phoenix and the governor’s factions.”

Damn, Rajesh has been busy.

“Our informants report that the leader was immune to all munitions and used a combination of high-caliber rifle fire and spells in the assault.”

“How many spells?” Blake pressed.

Corwin grimaced. “That is unclear. Some of the information I’ve received is contradictory and should not be trusted.”

Blake sighed. “I understand, but what’s your best guess? I’m trying to figure out how high level Rajesh is now.”

“Well…” the former military intelligence officer hedged. “I would put eighty percent certainty on at least seven spells, possibly more.”

“What energy types?”

“Psi and Aether are certain, and no reports show the use of mana,” Corwin stated assuredly. “However, there is some debate on whether he used chi. As you know, chi abilities are far more difficult to visibly identify, especially from a distance.”

Blake nodded. “So, he’s a tri-class.”

Corwin shook his head. “We can’t say that with complete confidence.”

Blake snorted. “I can. I know Rajesh. The only reason he wasn’t a tri or omni class in my last timeline is because no one knew that was an option at the time. I bet he tried to get all four this time, but couldn’t get the achievements before Invasion day hit, so he had to settle.”

“Access to three energy types is considered settling?” Sir John remarked, baffled. “Don’t you lose efficiency when you go over two types?”

“You do,” Blake confirmed and then clarified as confused looks were exchanged by the members. “The only reason I can keep up with four is because of my achievements. I get double the nano from killing monsters and completing directives, and my attributes allow me to take on higher level scenarios.”

“Does Rajesh have similar achievements?” Jennifer asked.

Blake’s head swiveled to face her. It was the first time she had spoken during the meeting, and he was surprised she had paid that much attention. As per usual, while others gave their reports, she had focused almost entirely on comments left on her social media posts.

“No. His achievements should be no better than most people’s,” Blake replied.

“Then why didn’t he choose two?” Jennifer pressed. “From what you’ve said about Rajesh, he always does what he thinks is logical.”

“Because unlike me, he isn’t running scenarios to get his nano, he’s using his faction’s treasury like his own slush fund.”

“As you should be doing,” Corwin interrupted.

Blake sighed and turned to Jennifer’s father. “I’ve gone over this before. I need to run scenarios to master my spells. Yes, I’ll level slower, but in the end, it will just make me that much stronger.”

Corwin disagreed. “That’s fine for the future, but what happens if this Rajesh shows up here tomorrow and tries the same thing here that he did in Phoenix?”

“Then he’ll die,” Blake replied confidently.

Corwin cocked his head to the side. “You’re that confident?” 

Blake nodded. “With the shield generator, he has zero chance of taking over Pinetop. And, in another few days, when Payson gets theirs, he’ll have no chance there either. But, what you’re really asking is, can I take him? Right?”

Corwin nodded, while his mother frowned.

“I can confidently say he doesn’t stand a chance against me, and he knows it. He’s probably level four, at best level five. If he is level five, that only gives him about a hundred extra attributes after his achievement boosts.” Blake leaned forward. “I have twice that.”

Corwin’s brows rose in surprise, as did the rest of the table. 

“Okay, I admit, I was not aware that the disparity was that great,” Corwin relented. “But, he also just gained a windfall of taxes by conquering those two factions. What if he boosts himself to level nine? He should equal you then, correct?”

Not unless he surprises with some sort of trap.

“In attributes, maybe,” Blake agreed, aloud. “But I have access to all four energy types, and my spells have been evolved, multiple times.”

“Yes, but at level nine, he would have access to far more abilities than you, and that ignores his subordinates. What if he shows up next week with an army of level nines?”

Blake snorted. “Rajesh would never trust anyone else that much. Besides, he’s going to want to consolidate his power of Phoenix before he expands.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Corwin pressed.

Blake shrugged. “Then I withdraw a few billion nano from our treasury, level myself up, and kick his ass. It’s not like I’m morally against using taxes or something. Hell, by this point, I’ve probably already donated over a billion nano to the faction and paid half a billion in taxes.”

“Good,” Corwin finally relaxed into his seat.

“But,” Blake continued, which caused the security advisor to raise a single brow. “You are right about one thing, I do need to level up soon. I’ve been so focused on putting out fires or expanding our territory, that I’ve neglected my own power.”

“Does that mean you won’t be leading the next expedition to Flagstaff?” Jessica Nguyen interjected.

“No,” Blake shook his head. “I need to stay here and grind out the Lupus scenario. If you’re worried about safety, we can always send more guards from Pinetop. We have a shield here to protect us, and I’ll be available in case of emergency.”

“More isn’t always better,” Sir Kasey replied. “As I stated earlier. Most of our guards are only level one. Firearms are still a danger.”

“Then, we spend a couple billion nano to level them up,” Blake answered easily. “Call it an early bonus.”

Indigo Wasabi, the Black Diamond subfaction leader, cleared his throat. “If we are speaking of reinforcement, I would like to request additional guards as well.”

“As would I,” Chancellor Tessay added. “It will be weeks before we have our own shield generator, and until then, we are in danger.”

“I believe we would be better served to ramp up our intelligence operations,” Corwin said. “After all, knowing when and where an enemy will attack is far more important.”

Chancellor Tessay snorted. “That’s easy for you to say. You are safe within The Dome. Come live in Eagar and see if you still feel the same. Then, you might want a bit more protection.”

Blake winced as they continued to argue, and even his mother’s voice joined the debate.

I should’ve known better.

He had learned that the moment you grant resources to one group, every other group immediately demanded their own as well. If he wasn’t careful, he could easily see spending ballooning out of control.

“That’s enough,” he stated in a loud voice. When they quieted and turned to him, he nodded and turned to address his mother. “How much nano do we have right now?”

Donna’s eyes glazed over as she accessed her interface. After a moment, she replied. “We have two point three billion nano at the moment.”

“Is that all of our towns, or just Pinetop?” he asked.

“All of them combined,” she clarified. “Although, the vast majority is from the new faction members being settled here.”

Blake nodded. “Alright, and how much do you think we’ll have by the end of the week?”

His mother frowned. “Maybe another billion and a half? It’s hard to say. It depends on our expenditures.”

“Okay,” Blake leaned back into his chair. “I agree that we need to invest in guards, and relocate most of them. As Chancellor Tessay said, there’s no reason we need so many in Pinetop or Payson when we have shield generators. But, we only have so much nano to go around. I’d suggest we move one hundred guards from Pinetop, and fifty from Payson, so a hundred fifty total. If we split two billion nano evenly, how much will each person receive?”

There was silence around the table as each person worked out the math on paper or in their head. Without smarty phones or spreadsheets, the calculation took far longer than it would have before Invasion day. 

Finally, Chancellor Nguyen spoke up. “That is a bit over thirteen million nano each.”

That’s it? Two billion doesn’t go very far.

“Okay,” Blake said. “I suggest we grant each guard that’s getting relocated ten mega-nano and call it hazard pay. Any objections?”

“What about the guards which are already stationed in Eager?” Chancellor Tessay asked. “Do they not deserve ‘hazard pay’?”

Blake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Why did I want to be a faction leader again? Life was so much easier when I just killed monsters and then hung out at the pub with friends.

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