“I could act here. I could solve your problems. But I can only do so under very specific circumstances, as I am sworn not to deplete the mana saturation of this world.”

  Vespa was too well trained to ask the obvious question, but Kalix must have known her heart.

  “As for why the Lawgiver has not come here personally, that is as he wills it. Even one such as I would never presume to question his divine judgment. You are being told all this because you will be elevated for the purpose of finding these intruders. They must be part of some fey machinations. You will find them and you will kill them, and kill this supposed fey prince. And thus you will prove yourself worthy of the knowledge I have given you. Now, report to Inquisitor Khalen. He already knows you will be in charge of this search. You want to avenge your blood, I can feel it in you. Go. Make it happen. I don’t want this week to end without having a fey head to give to our god.”

  She rushed out. Drivnor Khalen was the head Inquisitor on this mission. He was much stronger than she was and near the top of the Order hierarchy. Hopefully, he would have some advice for her—not that she could show any weakness.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Liquid Magic

  Exiting the dungeon was blessedly uneventful. Spot was accommodating and smoothed a path out for us, and there were no guards waiting to attack us at the exit. I knew this was what I should have expected, but somehow, after the other dungeon, things felt different. Maybe it was my connection with the dungeon.

  That raised another thought. Selena was a Pioneer, which meant she had a connection to my primordial aspect. The fact that she could sense that aspect in the dungeon made me wonder just how strong our connection was. A thought formed in my mind, but I was probably being silly. I discarded it for now. There’d be time to think about long shots later.

  I couldn’t help but smile when I saw her. She was practically dancing. She immediately noticed and grinned. “Best dungeon run ever. These swords are amazing! I feel so light on my feet. I’ve never gotten such a huge bump in my stats at one time.” Then she seemed to get serious. “Is this how you feel all the time? Because if it is, I can understand why you rush into things and just expect them to turn out right.”

  “Uh, thanks?”

  She was next to me in a flash with her arm wrapped around mine. “Grumpy because you can’t use the loot that was made for you?”

  “Who says I can’t use it?”

  “Oh, I’m not telling you what to do. If my fiancé wants to become some multi-system powerhouse who can take me on vacations across the multiverse, I’m not gonna argue. But I think I know you well enough by now. You’re a good man, sometimes a simple man, and that makes you reliable. I’m glad to have some reliability in my life.”

  I didn’t argue with her. I wanted to be able to accept the life being offered. Silver Surfer had been my dad’s favorite comic book. He’d always made a big deal of insisting that the Ron Lim art was the best version. In the end, he said there was something about the Surfer that resonated with him. This guy had all this amazing power, he got to travel around and live the life he’d dreamed about, but in the end, he was always beholden to someone.

  Dad always said that the military felt like that sometimes. Being deployed sucked, but getting to travel the world, both before he had kids and after, had been a blessing in his mind. He liked the change, but because he had to follow orders, it could all be upended at a moment’s notice. He said it was the balance between duty and freedom where a man found out what his true character was.

  I shook my head, telling myself I should probably stop thinking about things my dad said. By Earth time, he’d only been gone a little over three years, but thanks to time dilation, it had been closer to eight years for me. Shouldn’t that have been long enough to stop grieving?

  “Where’d you go? I lost you there for a minute.”

  I returned my focus to Selena. “Sorry, just thinking about something.”

  She didn’t respond but pressed herself closer to me. I knew she didn’t fully understand what family meant to me. Her relationships had been so much more strained—businesslike, especially with her father. But she was learning how to be supportive, and that was growth for her.

  The inside of the warehouse had changed significantly. I didn’t ask exactly how, but I assumed Tad had some ability that allowed him to make whatever supplies he needed. That, or he could bring materials out of the dungeon. There were tables now, places to cook, and comfortable seating.

  “Not worried about us being found here?” Samvek asked.

  “I was,” Tad said. “I am. But I decided it wasn’t worth being uncomfortable for. They aren’t going to find us because of the furniture, and the next week will be comfortable, at least. How’d the dungeon go?”

  We all sat down to a good, warm meal. I let Oliver and Clay do most of the talking about the dungeon. Lexa filled in the gaps from her perspective, showing the most emotion I’d ever seen from her when Tad praised her new level. He was very thankful to us for advancing them.

  “Wait till you see what we got for loot!” I said, giving a brief explanation of my upgraded looting ability. Tad seemed to realize that there was more in play, although I hadn’t shared anything about the details of the herald offer. When I showed him the potions, he could only shake his head. Then he marveled over the golem control discs.

  An expression of concern crossed his face. “Did you see the requirements on these?”

  “Which one?”

  As it turned out, Tad was able to get more information out of the item than I was. He projected the extra line.

  In order to use this disc, the golem body must be handcrafted by the individuals who will control the golem.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Considering how much trouble we’ve had with a stone golem, yes. And I don’t have the necessary skills to be able to forge metal like that. I once had the chance to take a relevant trait, but I probably would have had to level it up several times before it was capable of something like this.”

  “Then I guess this will be my chance to further contribute to our partnership.”

  There was hope on Tad’s face. “You can forge something like that?”

  “With the metal and a proper forge, yes. My blacksmithing skill isn’t amazing, but I was able to craft my own armor, and I forged a new alloy that uses my blood to empower it. A simple metal like iron should be easy.”

  That put him at ease. We discussed what to do next, but the excitement from Tad’s camp was too great—they wanted to see if he could awaken them with these potions. He didn’t have the heart to make them wait until after we started on the golems. It was all good. I wanted to watch the process again, anyway, as I still needed to create three more Horsemen. Maybe this would give me some ideas on how to do it.

  The warehouse grew quiet in a way that had nothing to do with sound. It was anticipation. Even with everyone present, it felt like the space itself was waiting, holding its breath as Tad set the first potion down between himself and Mirren. The vial glowed faintly, not bright or dramatic, but dense, like light trapped in glass and pressed tight. Fara stood off to the side, arms crossed, clearly vibrating with impatience, while the rest of us instinctively gave the two space. This was a rite of passage, after all.

  Mirren knelt, folding her legs beneath her with practiced calm. She didn’t look afraid, but there was tension in her shoulders that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen her. From what I understood, her magic was natural and healing—Selena had told me a little about their run in the Endless Dungeon. Mirren cared about her people, and practically revered Tad, but now she was excited about what this could mean for her personally.

  Tad watched her closely, eyes half-lidded, his attention turned inward in a way that reminded me of how I focused when negotiating with the system.

  Fara broke the silence. “If anyone should go first, it should be me.”

  Tad didn’t look up. “I know why you’d say that, but no. We already know that this works on people from Aerth. We need to make sure that it will work with a potion, so we’re going to change the fewest variables. This needs to work on someone Aerth recognizes fully first. I won’t gamble with you before I understand the process.”

  Fara’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue further. It was hard to argue with the clear desire Tad had to protect her. If Mirren took offense to that, I couldn’t read it in her expression or body language. Selena shifted slightly closer to Fara, a silent reminder that patience was sometimes its own form of strength.

  Tad picked up the vial and held it between his palms for a moment, as if feeling its weight. “Just a sip,” he said gently. “I need to watch how the potion interacts with you. This is a new magic for all of us.”

  Mirren nodded and took the vial with both hands. She drank only a fraction, barely enough to wet her lips, then passed it back without hesitation.

  The change was immediate, though not explosive, a subtle tightening of the air as the potion’s energy unfolded inside her. Mirren inhaled sharply, fingers curling against her knees, and a soft glow spread beneath her skin like embers buried under ash. Tad leaned forward, one hand hovering just above her sternum, his expression shifting as he tracked something invisible.

  Oliver whispered, almost to himself, “He’s smelling it.”

  I frowned. “Smelling what?”

  “Magic,” Oliver replied quietly. “I’ve read about sniffers before, but I’ve never seen anyone actually do it until I met him. And what Tad does takes it to a whole new level.”

  Mirren’s breathing steadied, but her aura changed, gaining definition, edges sharpening as if something inside her had been given structure. Tad exhaled slowly, relief bleeding into his posture. “Good. The energy’s integrating instead of tearing. She’s compatible.”

  Compatible. The word carried more weight than he probably intended.

  “Drink the rest,” Tad said, voice firm now. “I’ve got you.” Mirren didn’t hesitate. She lifted the vial again and drained it completely.

  The ascendant-tier energy hit like a tidal surge. Mirren gasped, her back arching as power roared through her body, and the warehouse lights flickered as if reality had recoiled from what it had just witnessed. Tad caught her wrist and shoulder at the same time, anchoring her physically while his Will wrapped around the incoming force. He wasn’t attempting brute control, but guidance, shaping a flood into something that could be survived.

  Sprites began to appear.

  At first, they were just flashes at the edge of my vision, quick sparks of green and gold darting through the air. Then they multiplied, clustering around Mirren in loose orbits, responding to the resonance between her soul and the potion’s power. Tad’s authority pressed outward, giving those nascent spirits a framework, somewhere to settle without being consumed. It wasn’t like how they interacted with enchantments or magical items. This just seemed like the sprites were interested in what was happening.

  My attention snapped back to Mirren. I felt the moment the oath took hold. It wasn’t spoken aloud, but it resonated through the room like a bell struck underwater. Mirren’s connection to Tad deepened—not forced, not binding in the way the Order did it, but acknowledged. You are seen. You are chosen. You belong here. The difference was stark enough that it made my skin prickle.

  Mirren cried out softly, though there was no pain on her face. This was simply the release of tension. The power settled, folding inward, and her presence grew denser and more real. I could feel it clearly now, the way her soul anchored itself more firmly into her body, her potential no longer diffuse but aligned. The sprites drifted closer, then slowly dispersed. The show was over.

  Mirren slumped forward, breathing hard but alive. Tad kept his hands on her for several seconds longer, ensuring her stability before easing back. Sweat beaded along his hairline, but there was satisfaction there too, something earned rather than given.

  A notification chimed in my awareness, mirrored by several others around the room.

  Mirren Helena has been Awakened and is bound to the Twin Prince of the Summer and Void Courts.

  Identify told me that her level had gone up to 155 thanks to the leftover XP she’d accumulated.

  She opened her eyes and looked up at Tad, then at the rest of us. Nothing about her appearance had changed dramatically, but everything about her felt heavier, more grounded. When she stood, she did so without wavering, her posture instinctively adjusting to accommodate a strength she hadn’t possessed an hour earlier.

  I couldn’t stop myself from comparing it to the results of the Order’s awakenings. Those awakened felt stamped, identical, with obedience burned into the core. This felt like craftsmanship. Like Tad had taken raw potential and shaped it with care, respecting what was already there instead of overwriting it. It was the difference between mass production and art, and it told me everything I needed to know about why the Lawgiver feared this kind of power.

  Fara finally exhaled, arms uncrossing. “So it works,” she said, a note of hunger creeping into her voice.

  Tad nodded, tired but steady. “It works. And it’s getting easier.”

  The second awakening began in short order, as though the moment Mirren stabilized, the process itself leaned forward, urging them to continue. Lia stepped into the circle next, her movements quicker, more restless, shadow and silk magic coiled tight around her like a second skin. Where Mirren had knelt with calm acceptance, Lia crouched like a predator, ready to spring even as she submitted herself to Tad’s authority. Tad met her gaze for a long moment, clearly reading something in her that wasn’t visible to the rest of us, then nodded once.

  The potion reacted differently this time. When Lia drank, the energy surged sharper, more angular, snapping through her mana channels like drawn wire instead of flowing embers. Tad adjusted accordingly, his control tightening, not to restrain her but to keep her from tearing herself apart with her own momentum. Sprites flashed again, darker this time, streaks of violet and silver darting around her as if responding to the spider aspect woven into her soul.

  I felt the oath settle faster, more decisively. Lia’s bond to Tad wasn’t contemplative like Mirren’s. It was chosen in motion, loyalty born of action and shared danger rather than quiet faith. When the awakening locked into place, her aura flared outward in a brief, sharp pulse before snapping back under control, and she laughed breathlessly as the power settled.

  Lewlen followed, methodical even now. He took his place with bow laid carefully beside him, posture straight, eyes never leaving Tad’s face. The potion’s energy moved through him in precise lines, like a master archer tuning a weapon he’d already perfected. Tad barely had to intervene, acting as more of a guide, really, and the sprites that gathered were fewer but brighter, hovering close to Lewlen’s hands and shoulders before going about their business.

  By the time Dylus knelt, the warehouse felt charged, saturated with residual magic and intent. I’d been told that he had lost his brother only a couple months ago and that he was still in mourning. Dylus took the potion with grim resolve, jaw clenched as the power hammered into him like a forge strike. This awakening was heavier, slower, his endurance and earth affinity drawing the process out as Tad shaped the flow again and again, reinforcing without breaking. When it finally settled, Dylus rose like a mountain deciding to stand taller, solid in a way that made the floor feel steadier beneath our feet.

  Each awakening took more than an hour, even as Tad’s efficiency improved. Sweat soaked his clothes, and I could see the strain building in him despite the smoother execution. Every one demanded attention, adaptation, and respect for the individual. This couldn’t be done with a template, and that alone explained why the Order’s method felt so hollow by comparison.

  Fara’s patience snapped somewhere during Dylus’ stabilization. She paced once, then twice, tail flicking sharply behind her before she turned to Selena. “If this is going to keep going, I need to move. I can’t sit here knowing I’m falling behind.”

  Selena glanced at me, eyebrow raised, silent but asking. I nodded once. “It’s your call.”

  Selena smiled, sharp and approving. “Then let’s go bank you some XP.”

  Fara’s grin was feral. “About time.”

  They were gone moments later, reality folding neatly around Selena as she took Fara with her into the dungeon. The absence they left behind felt strange, a gap in the rhythm of the room, but it was the right call. Fara needed to be doing something, and Selena understood that instinctively.

  When Tad finally leaned back after Dylus’ awakening, exhaustion etched deep into his expression, I took stock of the room. Four forest elves now stood awakened, each at level 155, each radiating a distinct, individual strength. None felt copied or owned. Only Crynane the dark elf and Oliver the human Grand Mage remained, assuming that Tad was willing to wake them.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized the difference in the way these awakened felt was more significant than the power itself. It was the freedom he represented which truly made Tad a danger to the Order. I couldn’t help but smile as I considered what fun we were going to have over the coming days.

  Of course, my definition of fun might have changed significantly since I became a Forerunner.

  Chapter Forty: Learning More

  Crynane stepped forward without hesitation. The dark elf didn’t glance at anyone else or seek reassurance, and she didn’t ask what the process would cost her. She simply knelt across from Tad and folded her hands, posture composed and deliberate, as if this were a duty long anticipated rather than a gamble with her soul. There was no fear in her, only resolve.

  This matched the few observations I’d been able to make about her. She was different from the other elves. There was always a bit of tension between her and them, despite the fact that they both followed Tad. The little bit I’d managed to glean about her past told me that she’d been the only one of the elves who was an adventurer before she met Tad. The others had been living in a small village, leading mundane lives.