MM - Chapter 139 - TEMPERING FOR DUMMIES

Raine hustled back to his bedroom. Thoughts from the brief conversation with Pamalaiha cycled repeatedly around the same few points in a whirlpool without end. Raine detested the rare cases when that weak ruminating mindset struck him. Thoughts beyond one's control were little short of mind-rape. With a growl, he jerked his mentality back to the present moment, breathing deeply and allowing his senses to soak up the surroundings before redirecting himself out of the mental hole.

Vital Nutrients and Origin Energy… Even their names are a tightly-guarded secret. The chances of me finding answers on the I.S. or Hypernet without bringing down the wrath of the clans are nill. There's nothing for it but to experiment and discover the truth myself.

“Morty, can you order a few random herbs, vegetables, and fruits that I can grow indoors? Set up the living room as a makeshift greenhouse. Try to get similar variations in multiple stages of development: seed, budding, and fully grown.”

“As usual, I am light years ahead of you, Master. I've already conducted four thousand simulations to begin optimizing the experimentation process. With proper guidance from my immaculate self, this endeavor shall be a smashing success. It is good to hear that even you can appreciate the potential profits. They are... staggering.”

Raine quirked a brow as he passed the AI's closet, briefly wondering which of them was supposed to be the greedy miser. “Yeah, profits. That's what I'm afraid of,” Inside his closet, Morty was expertly balanced on synthetic palms, his new arms propping his torso off the ground. “Looking good, buddy. Any issues with them?”

Morty's mechanical voice held an edge of serenity, “None at all. They are exactly as specified and more than sufficient for choking-ahem, for cooking and cleaning.”

Raine snorted, “Don't go choking your circuit board in this little closet. Space wasn't designed for that kind of wear and tear.”

Morty didn't dignify him with a response. Raine entered his room, where Mel was still peacefully snoring. He soaked in the sight of her for three breaths, then got himself ready and dove down a river of stars.

The streets of Silverlight City formed around him in a rippling wave. The road was crammed with players, a sight both nostalgic and welcome. The faster they leveled, the sooner he could sell his excess loot from the raid.

For the first time since the servers went live, Raine had little to accomplish in ZionLine. His guild hall would take a while yet to complete, and after the recruitment drive, he would be swamped with guild affairs to resolve. Before all that, there were primarily three tasks he needed to accomplish. Of them, one was far more tantalizing than the others. However, he decided to tackle the least enjoyable first. Raine opened a four-way chat with Fizgore, Rhino, and Celeste, “I'm inside. Does anyone need a sparring partner?”

Rhino responded first, “We're in the arena right now.”

Celeste jumped in a moment later, “Do you really have nothing better to do than beat us up?”

She doesn't want me there? Ahh. Must be enjoying kicking those two around. Good for all three of them. I'll let them be.

Raine punched in a reply, his feet already moving toward his second objective, “As a matter of fact, I do.”

“Great. Go do that. We're doing just fine.”

“It is as she says, brother. Our training is but drops of water wearing away a stone. While wringing us dry yourself may yield some benefits, we can achieve the same results through our own efforts.”

And Fizgore doesn't want an audience while he's getting his ass handed to him. Well, it doesn't do them any good if it's too one-sided.

Raine chuckled darkly, “Don't give up, Fizgore. If you can force her to move, her focus will go tits up, and her whole strategy falls apart.”

There was a long silence in the chat, and then Fizgore responded at the same time that an outraged curse came from Celeste, “As usual, your wisdom astonishes me, brother.”

[Crimson Nebula has left the chat]

Happy to have nudged them in the right direction, Raine also dropped out. His first stop was the Commoners District Auction House. Like the streets, it was packed. He bypassed several long lines, trotting to the VIP booths. Checking his balance and sales history, he discovered the initial seventeen thousand gold investment had already been returned, plus a little extra. The items were only a third sold, and the bidding wars were in full swing.

He withdrew the nineteen thousand, sending ten to the builders union to pay them in full. Five hundred went back into the market to purchase a few crafting materials for the engineering schematics he could create. Unfortunately, the more esoteric materials he needed for the higher-grade schematics weren’t being made by any crafters yet.

A quick search found several schematics he didn't yet have, but their prices were exorbitant, so he passed. His only crafting goal at the moment was to gain enough Proficiency to reach adept grade. Then, he could make the Gromglenn Boomsticks for his next quest.

Conveniently built directly across the street from the auction house was the Crafting Hall. On his way over, Raine overheard whispers of two elite crafters—DarkFlame and SledgehammerSalesman—who were apparently in a fierce bidding war. For reasons Raine couldn't fathom, they were trying to sell copies of the same suit of crafted armor cheaper than the other.

As if there aren't tens of thousands of players who want each decent piece of gear. Not to mention the major Guilds gobbling up everything in sight. Why lower your prices? Whatever, the world takes all kinds.

Raine ducked inside the crafting hall and rented a novice engineering room for a day. The space was crammed with every low-grade tool a budding engineer might desire. On one end sat a drafting table and chair equipped with a quill and empty vial for ink. Across from the table was a full smithing station with tools, a furnace, and fuel. The last corner contained a wood-crafting bench with saws and chisels neatly stacked to the side.

In the past, Raine took great joy in the peace and quiet of crafting. He wasn't often allowed to zen out with the endeavor as his plate was usually full with the guild’s needs. He doubted this life would be any different. Before starting, Raine sat cross-legged in the middle of the room and pulled up the description of arguably his most powerful find to date.

[Soul Flame of Amanesh: (Chaotic Gold - Soulbound - LVL 25) A named soul flame not yet under its owner's complete command. Significant tempering of the soul is required to unleash its full potential (Soul Resistance +20) (All attributes +75)]

[Innate skill 1 - Sacrifice: Douse your soul in flames to further boost your resistance to soul-damaging effects and gain mastery over the Soul Flame of Amanesh (Current Mastery: 1/10) (Cooldown: 1 week)]

[Innate skill 2 - Purge: In a burst of intense heat, eradicate toxins, poisons, and paralytics from the body. Note: causes some discomfort (Cooldown: 30 seconds)]

[Innate passive 1 - Sharing is Caring: Wield your inner flame against your enemies, dealing soul damage equal to mastery times level per second (no cooldown) (no cost)]

[Innate passive 2 - Wisdom of Amanesh: Concentrate your inner flame in various areas of the body for a wide variety of effects (Currently available: Hands) (Further mastery will unlock additional areas) (no cooldown) (no cost)]

Might as well get this over with. Hopefully, it's not as bad as getting the damn soul flame was. Being burned alive sucks.

Steeling himself, Raine mentally focused on Sacrifice, triggering the skill. Nothing happened for a moment, but he wasn't fooled. A tiny ember of heat blossomed in his chest, no worse than mild heartburn. Simultaneously, a short message appeared in his HUD.

[Soul tempering initiated. Do not move, or the process will fail (Time remaining: 1 hour 59 minutes)]

Two hours… This might get bad.

The heat in Raine’s chest didn't stay innocent for long. It spread in pairs of tiny pulses, the first questing outward in all directions by the tiniest margin, the second dialing the warmth ever so gradually higher. The first fifteen minutes weren't much of a challenge. By then, the tempering suffused his whole torso, and the flame equivalent to skin held close to a candle.

After that, it became impossible to disregard each pulse. Not that Raine had been ignoring them. As with all things in ZionLine, soul tempering was not as simple as it first appeared. The process painfully and clearly highlighted each muscle in his body. It was precisely the type of opportunity one on the cusp of becoming a class four martial would greatly benefit from.

However, the nuances went deeper for one who knew what to look for. With each pulse, Raine became more positive that another cleverly hidden truth was buried in the tempering. It was too structured. If its intent was only to teach muscle control, then there was no need for the pulses or incrementally increasing discomfort.

What could it be trying to show me? It's like the rippling surface of a pond. No. Maybe a wave? A tsunami? Damnit, I'm missing something.

Before Raine knew it, his teeth were clenched to the point speaking was impossible. Micro-tremors wracked his frame, and tears leaked unbidden from his eyes. He checked the time, dismayed that only a half-hour had passed. Raine redoubled his focus, falling into the pulses inching down his arms and legs.

When they reached the tips of his fingers and toes, he knew he was in trouble. The process started all over again from his core, yet the first underlayer of pulses remained, making this second round at least three times more painful. Within a few pulses, Raine realized the two staking layers were interacting, which somehow triggered his bloodlust without consent. Much more troubling was the feeling of heat building in his actual body.

Whatever the tempering was doing to him, it was affecting both his avatar and physical self. Raine fought off the panic with a mantra he desperately repeated with each pulse: Greater the challenge, greater the reward. Greater the challenge, greater the reward. Greater the challenge…

Melani Feladay

- Raine's Abode -

With a loud groan, Mel returned from the deepest sleep she could remember having. She stretched her limbs until they shook with pleasant effort. The hard floor felt soft against her skin, and she wondered how that was possible; lying on the floor always hurt. The same groan that woke her sounded again: it hadn't come from her.

Mel's eyes snapped fully open. She leaped to her feet, almost slipping in the process. A thick, filmy substance was smeared across the metallic surface beneath her feet, turning her attempt at balance into a joke. Mel scrambled to catch herself, falling half on the bed. That's when she saw him.

Raine was coated in an unnatural layer of sweat; the sheets around him soaked through completely. She stared uncomprehendingly for three heartbeats before lunging, “Raine!”

He didn't answer. His muscles were locked tight, and his strength was beyond her ability to budge. The heat radiating from his skin was great enough that she recoiled with a hiss. Mel entered full panic mode, desperately shouting his name while ignoring the pain and continuing to shake him.

“Miss Feladay. Miss Feladay. Miss Feladay!” A mechanical voice boomed from the other side of the door, jerking her back to rationality.

“Morty? I need help! Raine needs help! He's dying! I don't know—”

“For starters, calm down!” Morty gave her a full second to ensure she wouldn't interrupt, “Tell me in detail what's wrong. I cannot enter to help, and the door is sealed. You must handle this alone, but I can talk you through it.”

“R-right. Right. Okay. He's on the bed, not responding. And he's burning up. He's so hot I can't touch him! This is way beyond a fever. What do I do?!”

“There are towels in the bathroom. Soak them in cold water.”

“Scum-snickets! Why didn't I think of that!” Mel growled, launching herself toward the shower, only for her feet to become frictionless against the slime beneath. The floor reached up and smacked her hard in the chin. She slid forward on the cursed goo that was getting everywhere. She had no idea where it was coming from, but suddenly, it was all over her, turning what should have been a quick hop across the room into battling a mud demon in a swamp.

Mel cried, screamed, and thrashed, rowing herself across the floor. She didn't want to know how many bruises she was earning; thinking such a worthless thought was her form of coping with the fear twisting her guts into knots. 

What felt like an hour later, she made it to the towels and tore them off the shelf. Pushing against the wall, she slid to the shower, attempted to use the stupidly-complex smartwall controls to set the temperature at max chill. The irony of the setting's name did not escape her; it did make her scream and smack the stupid wall, though.

Finally, the water came out, instantly dousing her in blisteringly freezing water. Mel couldn't even scream with the way her muscles spasmed. She fell, again.

Worst. Day. Ever!

A horribly disguised blessing made itself known when she safely made it back to Raine with two soaked towels; the shower had cleared a significant portion of the slippery brown gunk from her body. Shivering, she spread the towels across him like blankets. Not knowing what else to do, she lay down next to him, soaking up the deadly warmth still gushing from his body while tears spilled from her eyes.