[Beastborne: Tower of Blight] Chapter 26

The devastation was far more than anything Hal could have ever hoped for. Honestly, he was a little afraid. Never before had he been able to wreak so much destruction with so little effort.

It was as if he had maxed out his Strain and then some, but usually when he did that he was near death and fighting an impossible foe.

If he could have that power without the sacrifice to his body or sanity…

Touching the pendant, Hal checked to see if it was damaged. That had to be it. He was overusing it somehow, and the pendant’s durability would deteriorate drastically with each use.

Ten durability loss, Hal confirmed. Hardly anything, considering it has a total of 3,000.

“I take it that you’re not used to your spells hitting that hard?” Hermes asked.

“Not like that,” Hal said.

That gave him roughly 300 spellcasts before the item broke. And since it was Osseochemy that made it, Hal could repair it with relative ease so long as he had the materials on hand.

With such a massive boost to his spellcasting power, he found himself agreeing with Val’s assessment about not needing anything but Beast magic.

“Why the difference? Really good item, or somethin’ else?” Hermes said.

“Really good item.”

The oppa nodded.

Hal raised his hand, then looked down at the oppa. “Might want to cover your ears. I’m going to try something else.”

He gave Hal a thumbs up with that dexterous paw of his and ducked down into Vorax’s pouch.

Using Anvil Lightning, Hal was able to create a far more controlled series of concussive blasts. While they should have lacked the explosive power of a Bomb Toss, the spell itself was considerably stronger and it showed.

With only a single use, Hal was able to nearly level an entire section of the terrace by flowing the spell through the [Fell Sorcery Chain] around his neck.

Each branching bolt of lightning carved and blasted apart the stone. But since Hal had a greater degree of control over Anvil Lightning, he was able to spread the blasts across a relatively flat plane.

When the dwarves returned in the morning, all they would need to do was clear out the rubble.

The bite of Strain stung, but it was minor compared to what he was used to. He had been incredibly careful within the Tower to make sure he didn’t expose himself to too much Strain.

Without Besal to act as a buffer against the corrupting backlash of Beast Magic, Hal was afraid of what might happen if he acquired too much Strain around his allies.

He liked having eyes that didn’t glow with sapphire fire. Though, as he found out earlier when trying to intimidate Hermes and instead impressed him, he could summon that fire back at will.

He was okay with that. It was the constant sign of corruption that bothered him. With his own human body back, Hal was not inclined to give it up to corruption again anytime soon.

Ascending to the next level, Hal used another Anvil Lightning, then another and another, always making sure to keep his Strain well under the first affliction level.

Using Dragonfire, Hal could amplify the spell’s damage even further at the cost of additional Spirit. Coupled with the [Fell Sorcery Chain], he felt unstoppable.

If I had this when I was facing Hirash, I could have killed him with beast magic alone. For some reason, the thought of destroying him with beast magic was even more satisfying than using Hirash’s own stored spell to do the dirty work.

He was reminded of something that Tristal said to him a while ago, that he was effectively living in the middle of nowhere. It went beyond the Shiverglades. Hal had once thought Aldim was mostly like the standard medieval fantasy setting that Tolkien created, but instead, Rinbast’s lands were far, far less civilized compared to everywhere else.

What other innovations did he not know about because he was stuck out in the rural wildlands compared to the thriving metropolises of the rest of the world?

She had said that even Rinbast’s capital was backwards compared to the rest of Aldim. If that was the case, why hadn’t Rinbast been conquered already if his technology and magical knowledge were so far behind?

Hal decided to make it a point to talk to Tristal later about it. Perhaps she already knew about spellcasting focuses and hadn’t mentioned them simply because it didn’t occur to her. Because it probably should have been common knowledge to use a spellcasting focus with magic.

Except Hal didn’t even know they existed until he started to wonder if there was an equivalent item that boosted magic damage as a sword did to physical damage.

If I were suddenly thrust back a hundred years or so, what technological advances would I take for granted but have no idea how they work? I wouldn’t have any florking clue how an air conditioner worked, or a refrigerator despite using those daily back home.

Hal doubted it was that simple. The most likely answer was that she wanted to keep any advantage she could maintain. If she had a spellcasting focus of her own, even rather meager magic could compare with his beast magic spells.

Walking back to his cottage, Hal mulled over what to do.

If he gave Tristal the benefit of the doubt, then perhaps she didn’t think they had the capacity to make spellcasting focuses? That would make sense.

How would you think some town stuck out in the frigid swampy wastes could make something so refined and precise? That would be like going to a tribe in the jungle and dumping a bunch of sand and ash at their feet and asking them to make spun figurines of glass.

Of course she would think they couldn’t do it. Bringing it up would only appear to be gloating about her own superiority. And it made sense why Hirash’s magic was so powerful.

If Hal hadn’t used his Gold Kol’thil Sigils to seal up Hirash’s spell, he was certain that it would have killed him on the spot. A spell like that seemed far beyond what Hirash’s strength suggested he was capable of.

That has to be it, Hal thought. I’ve been functionally using my bare hands when everybody else out there has proper weapons. I’m betting my [Fell Sorcery Chain] isn’t even that strong compared to what’s commonly available.

Hal had to admit, he wasn’t sure he could have done it without Hermes’ assistance. Before just a day or so ago, Kow and Komachi were the only soul aeder in the entire settlement. Perhaps even the Worldshard. Such creatures were incredibly rare, and on some level, Hal figured Aldim’s conditions were unsuitable to their preferences or even needs.

Brightsong, especially Brightsong in the grips of a monster blizzard, was no place for such delicate creatures.

Every time, there seemed to be some exception the soul aeder made in order to stay on Aldim. Kow fiercely loved Ashera, and Komachi… well, she seemed to look after everybody while simultaneously, everybody looked after her.

Something else must have lured Hermes here. And then kept him here.

Hal wasn’t conceited enough to think it was him, but he couldn’t think of anything else. Maybe he was just a wandering soul who had no home to call his own and decided that a bunch of misfits in the middle of nowhere were better than nothing.

Back at the cottage, Hal scooped Hermes out of his pocket and set him in front of the fire with his blanket. The oppa curled up into a U-shape that was so contorted Hal couldn’t figure out how that would ever be comfortable. Hermes seemed perfectly fine, however. The oppa was smiling even.

Vorax detached from Hal’s shoulders, floating over to the fireplace to warm himself up while Hal went back to work.

Prototyping new versions of his [Fell Sorcery Chain] took up the majority of Hal’s night. The thin watery sunlight that was the Shiverglades’ pitiful excuse for dawn didn’t register on Hal as he continued crafting new variants one after the other.

None of them quite worked, but that didn’t stop Hal. He was getting Experience for every attempt and learning–mostly through failure–how to improve a spellcasting focus.

Something drew Hal out of his crafting flow, tempting him out of his focus with the bold, sweet and chocolaty smell of freshly brewing coffee.

Eyes widening, his hands trembling on the worktable, he looked up, trying and failing to keep his desperate hope at bay.

Hamrin could not have worked that fast.

Hermes and Vorax were talking quietly amongst themselves. The pair had worked together to use Hal and Noth’s tea kettle to brew coffee with a glass pot and a fluted apparatus from Hermes’ stash.

Hal struggled to believe what he was seeing. Dark brown droplets slowly seeped from the top part of the apparatus into the pot below. An inch of the precious black gold had already accumulated in the bottom.

“I totally forgot you had roasted coffee beans,” Hal said with all the thirst of a man who had just crawled through the Sahara. He swallowed hard. “Could I have a cup?” he asked with barely concealed hope.

Hermes looked up from the brewing pot. “Oh? Aye mate, no worries! We’ll brew ye up a cuppa bonza crackle black no problem!”

Hal was pretty sure next to none of that was Australian slang, but he wanted the coffee so badly he didn’t even bat an eye at the mangled words.

“I would… appreciate that, greatly,” Hal said, doing his best to keep his coffee lust at bay.

It had been months since he had the stuff, much less smelled it, and now it was brewing in his very room. He would have taken a tin of that nasty instant coffee at this point and considered it the height of gourmet coffee.

But this… this was actually good coffee.

Growing up in Seattle, it was all but impossible not to be at least a little bit of a coffee snob. It was practically all the area had going for it when he had lived there.

Cost of living? Nah. Good weather? Nope. Lack of spiders? Guess again. But coffee? Hoo boy, you better believe Seattle had some amazing coffee.

How else could they get through the depressingly gray seasons after the criminally short 1 month of blue skies and sun? It was little wonder they made some of the best coffee outside of Italy.

Hal was nearly vibrating with excitement as the oppa slowly poured the coffee into a cup. Though Hal usually liked some cream and sugar, he was so eager he drank it black.

As much as he wanted to guzzle it, Hal forced himself to sip and savor the delicious brew that he had missed more than anything.

Everything else on Earth sucked, but coffee was worth it all in the end. Hal was pretty sure if Earth ended up getting sucked up into a Shardrune somewhere, coffee would be its one saving grace.

Breathing deep of the heady aroma, Hal detected notes of orange, brown sugar, a slight nuttiness and a delectable floral finish that felt bright and clean.

In other words, for those who weren’t coffee snobs, it was delicious and lacked any of the typical bitterness and ashy flavor some poorer coffees often contained.

Even though Hal hadn’t had a cup of coffee in forever, he knew that this stuff would have sold for hundreds of dollars a pound if he were back on Earth. It was better than the best small batch, artisanal micro-roast Hal had ever tried.

Instantly, Hal felt lighter, his sluggish thinking cleared up, and after kissing Hermes and getting another cup, Hal immediately went back to work with renewed vigor and dedication.

He worked through the rest of the morning until there was a knock at his door.

Draining another cup of coffee, Hal stood and gathered up his new creations.

It was time to go back to the Tower.