Sava nodded along. I stood there confused. Hatched from? I’d have to ask Sava to give me the birds-and-the-bees talk later. I hadn’t even considered that reproduction might be different for elves than it was for humans. But I had more important questions for the moment.
“I’d gathered that these things were valuable from Sava, but do they really warrant hiding in your...” I glanced around the room trying to identify it. There was something strange and hazy about the room. I didn’t see anything like the warding formations Sava had shown me, but maybe Grotkins had access to something more subtle. Thinking about it too hard was irritating me, like someone was poking me in the brain every time I though about it. I pushed the budding question out of mind and the sensation disappeared. “Why are we back here?”
“I take it you haven’t heard the queen’s latest decree?” Grotkins glanced back and forth between Sava and me. Sava shook her head.
“Well,” Grotkins continued, “apparently she’s quadrupled the price on those things. They were already worth a dozen times a fire spellheart of equivalent size. Now they’re worth even more. On top of that, she’s made keeping them from the crown a minor crime, but if you turn one in you can earn a pardon for anything less than murder. In short, there’s a lot of people who’d be more than happy to steal one of those things, whether for the coin or the pardon, and you can’t go to the queen’s guards here in town for help if somebody decides to take it from you, since they’re illegal to hang onto in the first place. You can get arrested for having them anywhere except on the constables table when exchanging them for the reward. Supid elves don’t know you have to carry the darn things to the table to get them there…”
I frowned. It looked like this little black gem would cause problems if I flashed it around too much. That ruined my plan of asking people in town to help me figure out how to use it. At this point... it might be worth more in currency than as a tool for magic. Perhaps I could trade it for a different type of spellheart. One that would bond to me more readily.
“What about Sava’s spellheart? Is hers not valuable?”
Grotkins snorted. “It’s valuable, but plant aspect spellhearts are a Queensmark a dozen around here in the Hearthwood forest. Half the creatures living in the woods around here leave one when they die.”
I rolled the little black gem around in my hands, putting it on display. “How about a trade? This little thing here for six spellhearts of equivalent power from different elements?”
But Grotkins shook his head before even trying to haggle me down.
“I’m a hobgoblin. The locals have enough reason to hate me as it is. They’d be all over me the minute I bought something like that, even if I tried to trade it in immediately for the reward. If I showed up with this your local constables would just use it as an excuse to search my shop for more. And if they did that, I’d have to head off world sooner than I’d like. It wouldn’t be a good trade for me unless I had a buyer already lined up. And I don’t. Sorry, but no thanks. I don’t want to risk that.”
I shrugged, “Your loss,” I wasn’t going to offer it any cheaper now that I knew it was so valuable. If I traded it in for the local currency, I’d have an easier time of buying whatever spellhearts I wanted. I mentioned this to Sava quietly and she agreed to stop by the constable’s office with me, so we could trade the thing in.
It didn’t take much longer for Grotkins and Sava to wrap up their earlier negotiations. Soon enough we were headed out the door. I still had to pull the cart along, which was now much fuller after Sava had added new glassware, blankets, a cauldron, and a pile of elvish clothes that could be adjusted to my size.
Things were going smoothly, and, in my mind, I was already debating which type of magic I’d most like to work with. I’d gotten Sava to agree to turning in the death spellheart for the reward, and she agreed. A goblin might not be able to turn it in, but it should be no problem for an elf. Originally, I had been thinking about purchasing as many as I could, but Sava shot that idea down. Apparently, it’s much better to buy a single high quality, larger spellheart than it is to buy lots of smaller ones.
Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by a harsh and rough voice. “Loose change? Please kind elf, spare some loose change?” A beggar held out a pot that had a few copper coins jingling around inside. She looked to be an elf, and back home she would have been considered barely above average in the looks department, but I’d learned from looking around town that all elves were incredibly attractive, so seeing one in this state probably meant wretchedness on the level of a disability among elves.
I shook my head, turning my left pocket inside out to prove there was nothing in it. I didn’t do the same with my right pocket because I didn’t want the spellheart to come spilling out. Her eyes lingered on that pocket.
I turned towards Sava, who also patted her empty pockets and shook her head. Ha, I’d seen her pocket some of Grotkins’ money not a minute ago. I guess she wasn’t feeling charitable. She grabbed me by the wrist and turned to pull me away from the beggar.
It turned out that Sava’s instinct was the right one. Without warning, the beggar woman lunged from her seated position.
“Then die, greedy goblin-lovers!” The elf shouted in her hoarse voice. Out of her sleeve she pulled out a rusty knife. I immediately jerked back and held up my forearm to protect my face. Inwardly I cursed my ill-preparation. I should have gotten Sava to lend me a weapon. Perhaps that ironwood sword I’d been practicing with.
The woman didn’t lunge for my face though. Instead she slashed at my pocket with her knife, tearing it open with a loud ripping sound. Out of the slash spilled the death spellheart. The woman’s eye glimmered as she scooped it up off the ground and turned to sprint.
Oh hell no. I wasn’t about to take a setback like this because of an overly ambitious pickpocket. That little black spellheart was the only wealth of my own I had in this world, and I planned to trade it for magic powers.
Sava had warned me about the dangers I’d face if my identity as a chaka was revealed. I’d seen proof that at least some of what she’d said made sense, based on my interactions with the elves who wounded me. I probably should have kept my cool and made a smarter move… but I’d been cooped up too long. Worse, the power of zeal had flowed into my body, increasing my strength day by day. The sudden increase in my personal strength felt a lot like what I thought steroids would feel like. My heart pumped and a temper I’d never had before flared at the humiliation of being robbed in broad daylight.
“That’s mine!” I hollered even as I broke into a sprint. I was faster than I expected. More evidence that the zeal native to this place was still working to improve my body. The hood to my cloak flew backwards, but with a huge gash running along the entire cloak it was nearly useless as a disguise anyway.
The beggar dove behind a fruit stall and into a small alley. I grabbed at the collar of her shirt, but the fabric just tore away in my hands. I tossed the scrap of fabric aside in frustration and dove into the alley. I could hear Sava following me a few steps behind.
“Theo, don’t! They’ll see you!” She hissed in a panicked voice.
By all rights I should have caught her by then, but the alley was a little tight for my larger frame and so I had to turn sideways. On top of that, the beggar knew these back alleys, and I didn’t. I was only just able to keep her in sight.
Finally, the alley widened. The beggar dove to the right.
“Boss! I got it! I knew I saw somebody flashing around a death spellheart inside that damnable dirty goblin’s shop!”
“Not so loud, Ugly,” apparently, the ugly elf’s nickname was Ugly. Elves in this world were not all as civilized as stories back home often depicted them
The voice of the thief’s co-conspirator stopped me dead in my tracks. I was pissed, but I could sniff out a trap when it was thrown in my face. I dove into a small alcove by the exit to the alley. I peeked my head out a bit to get a visual on who’d just stolen my tic
ket to magical power in this world.
Most of them looked about what I expected from a street gang. Coarse woven cheap fabric and loose-fitting rags on all of them. Some clearly better dressed than the others. They were all elves, and all female elves by the look of it, though with the effeminate appearance of male elves it was hard to be certain. I wouldn’t be surprised though. According to Sava, male elves were far, far less common than female elves. Something about them not often surviving to adulthood.
The best dressed of the gangsters was just a hand shorter than me. This behemoth of an elven woman snatched the spellstone out of the beggar’s hands and held it up to the light. Then she turned to the final two people in the group who clearly differed from the rest of this group. The pair of them were dressed in a combination of metal and cloth armor. It may have made up a uniform at one point, but if these were soldiers their uniforms would have never passed muster in its current state. Deserters maybe?
“One death spellheart, as promised.” The big elf said.
One of the armored elves reached for it “You certainly cut that one close. When you said you had one for us we assumed you already had the product in hand, not that you merely had an avenue for obtaining one.”
The gangster leader grimaced. “We had one, but that one’s not an option for us anymore. Thankfully, heavens are on our side today.”
Before the armored elf could take the spellheart the big elf pulled her hand back. “Not so fast there. Payment first.”
But as the armored elf frowned in response, the big elf’s head exploded in a viscous pale blue substance. Her body toppled to the ground as an acrid smell spread through the air.
I recognized the liquid as coming from the bottle that Sava always carried around her waist. She’d upgraded it several days ago with the remains of a creature that looked suspiciously like the creature I’d killed in the tunnels back when I’d first arrived.
“Where’s... Theo!” Sava huffed angrily as she hefted a smaller, purple vial.
I analyzed the blue goop dripping from the big elf.
Shadowstalker Centipede Poison (three star)
This poison consumes the victim’s heart and devours the soul. If left untreated, the victim will become a mindless undead monster.
I shivered. Somehow, the venom reminded me of what I’d seen dripping from the fangs of the centipede I’d killed with a rock when I’d first arrived on this world. Had I not landed that lucky throw, I might have been bitten by a creature carrying that same poison. That thought alone was enough to shake off some of the hold my adrenalin had on me.
“Boss!” one of the gangsters cried out. The two armored elves each drew a sword and glanced warily at Sava. They stepped in between her and a blonde elf I hadn’t seen yet. The blonde’s hair wasn’t a human tinge of blond, but something far shinier, as if her hair was made from metallic gold. Beyond that, she looked like a more refined version of the armored elves, who shared her hair color, though to varying lesser degrees. She had a white and blue dress on, with decorative embroidery that perfectly matched the shade of her hair. From her dress and the protectiveness of those two armored elves I gathered that the two armored elves were her bodyguards, and this was a meeting of two different groups. The big elf had been the leader of these gangsters, whereas the small blond was the leader of the smaller group with the armored warrior-looking elves.
The latter group was more austere than the others, with traces of uniforms and formal training. My guess was confirmed a moment later.
“Pull back with Lady Nela. I’ll cover our retreat,” the soldier crouched down to grab the spellheart, but Sava tossed a vial in her direction. Not the purple heart poison, since I doubted she had much of that left, but something that was no doubt dangerous to touch.
“That’s stolen property. You’ll be leaving it with me.” Sava said in a cold voice. “Now, I’ll ask one more time, where’s Theo!?”
“You stand in the presence of a lady of repute and standing! Hold your tongue, you backwoods barbarian, before I remove it from your mouth,” the armored elf guard snarled.
Though the other elf had armor and a weapon, Sava met her opponent glare for glare, hefting a potion in one hand. Sava stared down at the slightly shorter swords-woman with an intensity I’d never seen from her before. Sava hefted another colored vial of potion in her hand, prepared to throw. The swordswoman glanced warily at the vial, no doubt wishing she had a shield.
Before Sava decided to do something stupid, I stepped out of the shadows.
“I’m right here, Sava,” I said as I waved from around the corner.
“Enough, Ghessa,” The blonde elf chided “We may have fallen on hard times, hard enough to consort with criminals, but we shall not become criminals ourselves.”
Ghessa glared at the two of us. “You are lucky my lady values our honor so.”
I disregarded what little remained of my cloak and stood straight. At my full height I was a bit more impressive. I took a breath and swelled up my chest a little to make myself look a bit tougher.
“Your lady made a wise decision.” I stated, trying to intimidate them with the difference in size between us. I noticed Sava waving her hand at me with a worried expression on her face.
Just as it looked like I’d be able to get away without a fight, Lady Nela let out a whispered gasp of surprise.
“He’s... a chaka!”
I realized that every eye in the alley was on me.
Well there was no point in hiding it now. I didn’t fully understand the gender dynamics in elven society, but my current guess was that elven men enjoyed a slightly elevated position. Chakas, like myself, appeared to be of even greater importance.
“That’s right. I’m not an elf. I’m human.”
Now everyone looked confused. Clearly, like Sava, they’d never heard the term before.
There was a groan from the ground. Startled, I realized the big elf who had been shot in the back of the head was getting up.
She groaned as she made her way to her feet. She reached behind her and wiped away the last of Sava’s potion, which had turned runny and transparent.
“Boss! You’re alive!” One of the gangsters exclaimed.
The big elf groaned inhumanly. She turned, making her face visible. Half was a pale white, the other was swollen and purple. I suspected the sensation of death that emanated from her was the poison’s effect at work.
“Undead,” The swordswoman hissed. “The constables will be here any moment.” She struck out with her sword, cutting off the zombie-elf’s head in a single swing. The corpse collapsed to the ground, where it twitched and groped around for its head. The swordswoman kicked the head away and impaled the zombie through the heart. That still didn’t kill it, but it did slow it down.
“I’ll kill you, damned Riverweed herbalist!” one of the gangsters snarled. She kicked at the rock with her toe. Instead of hurting herself, like I expected, a spike of rock shot up from the ground like a spear, flung at high speed towards Sava.
The green-haired herbalist sank to one knee faster than I could blink, ducking beneath the shard of stone.
“An earth aspect cultivator of the third layer, I take it?” Sava said with a nod of respect. “I am a nature cultivator of the sixth layer. The chaka is under the protection of the Riverweed tribe, and if you’re smart you’ll let him leave with me.”
The big elf regarded Sava with a dismissive gesture. “How strange. The Riverweed tribe has a chaka wander into their territory, and they just let him run off with a single guard? Not even a warrior by the looks of you, just an herbalist at the sixth layer of zeal accumulation. No, I think you found this one yourself, and you thought you could keep him as your prize alone.”
I coughed. “Right here you know,” though the compliment was appreciated. I’d never been the subject of much female attention back on Earth, and suddenly I had caught the eye of every elf here. Each of whom had the appearance of a young woman ranging from merely pretty t
o stunningly beautiful on the parts of Sava and that blonde girl, Lady Nela.
I struck a confident pose, which all the lusty female attention was actually helping me. On the inside, I was quaking. Maybe I really had been far too bold. These elves moved inhumanly fast and used magic I couldn’t. I had taken down quite a few elves during my last clash with them, but at the end of it hadn’t I wound up on the edge of death?
I mustered my courage all the same. “Listen ladies, while I’d love to say there’s more than enough of me to go around, I’m here in town on business. No time for play unfortunately. And besides, I came here with Sava. It would be rude of me to accept another’s company when I came here with her.”
I gave them all a shallow bow and began my retreat out of the alley. Apparently, my polite refusal didn’t go down as well as I’d hoped, as I felt a firm hand clasp my shoulder. I guess elves don’t take well to being friend-zoned.
“Wait just a minute there. You’re not going anywhere,” It was the armored swordswoman who had traded glares with Sava.
I sighed aloud. “This world seems to be technologically similar to the middle ages. I would have thought that chivalry would be a thing. As a result, I have thus far refrained from striking a lady. But where I come from we have something called equality. And that means I can do this!”
I spun around in a sudden motion, catching the big gangster off guard. My fist collided with her lower jaw. Her eyes widened as my fist hit her chin, knocking it to the side. Then her feet left the ground and she landed on her back six paces away.
I glanced at my hand, surprised at my own strength. Based on my tests with Sava’s ironwood sword I knew becoming a cultivator had made me faster and stronger than before. Everyone else however, was shocked. Even Sava was glancing between me and the big thug in surprise. Lady Nela’s expression shifted into a creepy smile.
Zeal of the Mind and Flesh: A Cultivating Gamelit Harem Adventure (Spellheart Book 1) Page 14