I poured the black tea for Master Ben Ten politely. He appreciated the gesture, especially me doing it personally when Telekinesis would certainly do it for me.

  Negatively-charged, the tea was one of the only pleasant things in his undeath. I politely charged up bottles of wine, barrels of ale, and even hand-kegs of mead for the undead in Hebian-to and Mayoi, but the tea was always served ‘hot and fresh’ as it were. Apparently the fresh decomposition was as important as the tea leaves in this situation. Stored tea went flat and bland much more quickly than the alcoholic drinks.

  If the undead had to burn the barrels and kegs when they were done with them, well, it wasn’t like we’d been paying them for years of defending us. Nobody minded spending a barrel or keggers every week, and the undead did it for the taste, since none of them could actually get drunk.

  He waited while I poured the softly glowing white tea from the accompanying white porcelain pot into my own cup. We raised them and drank them together. He couldn’t sip at it, having no lungs and thus no suction, so I also drank in silence as his thick black tea, which would rot and erode any living tissue it ran across, ran across his bones and teeth, and he sighed as it slowly sank into the whiteness of his skeleton.

  “As always, thank you for taking the time to serve me tea, Lady Magos,” he finally said.

  “It is only fair, since none of your students can make the tea properly, Master Ben,” I replied calmly. “And… I have busy days. It is a relevant moment of sanity and pleasant company in the rush-rush of my average day.”

  “You and your students are indeed incredibly busy at most times. Are you aware that there are even some artisans and craftsman who grumble about all you do?” He was definitely amused at the thought.

  “Yes. Some of them want to do the jobs we do, parlaying them into a long-term occupation that will pay them a living wage for years and more. The fact we are rebuilding society rapidly is no excuse for them losing potentially years of wages. I am familiar with the mindset.”

  He chuckled gently. “Small minds with small concerns,” he agreed. “Soon enough your Casters will move on to higher concerns, and they will take over the maintenance and replacement of what wears out… if they have the skills to do so. Perhaps in time they will grow into something more… and their grumbles are not serious. They know what you have done for everyone.”

  “I know what I have done and plan yet on doing, Master Ben. It is not of much concern to me,” I admitted candidly.

  “What are your plans for the future now?” he asked, interested. “The matters on the northern islands seem mostly settled?”

  “We have to forge a trail across the Dark Isle, and chase the last of the Blight off of Aerlinthe. The first is to gain the Radiant Infusions and the potentially final upgrades to the Weapons of the Lost Light.”

  His head turned to his own sheathed Katana. I knew proving himself worthy of the Lost Light was one of his avowed goals for himself and his senior students, but not possible as long as he was undead. “Another basic Quest, then, one I never bothered to pursue. Yet I do not remember any extension to that quest…?”

  “The Sword of Lost Hope was made after finishing the Radiant Infusion.”

  “Ah. Yes. The corrupting of the Blade…” he nodded, remembering.

  “Corrupt, and yet the most powerful iteration of the Sword of Lost Light, according to the Mick, if made only to Acid damage. The various Infusions against Skeletons, Shadows, and Olthoi were very minor in comparison.”

  “That is true, but the Warfang Weapons that are being forged so meticulously now are clearly superior to those, are they not? Especially with the Elemental and Blackfire Stones added to them.” He and his students had undertaken acquisition of the Elemental Stones, and who was going to complain about the master of the Sun Legion advancing to the front of the queue for them?

  “It means there’s at least one more grade of Infusion. Blood with a negative energy charge can be purified, or its counterpart used.”

  “Counterpart?” Master Ben Ten inquired with interest.

  “Holy Waters, Flames, Vapors, or Sands.”

  “That… does seem logical,” he agreed. “So, you need to take a trip to the tomb of Avoren Palacost…”

  “Which should also be extant in the world now, instead of requiring a ridiculous number of sub-Quests to qualify for.”

  “Well enough, then. I understand that something happened during your trip to Aerlinthe?”

  “You mean the destruction of Aerefalle Keep and the Lady?” My composure stayed quite blasé. “It could have not happened to a finer undead harridan. I understand you led a delegation to the Graveyard a couple days ago. How did matters go there?”

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Lord Rytheran has left the Mhoire Graveyard,” Master Ben Ten reported as I refilled his cup. “His presence was, hmm, intermittent before, but as we started visiting he stayed present more, obviously expecting the sort of Karma-harvesting done by the living in the past. The undead there seemed more amused than anything when we didn’t start hostilities, but they were almost non-existent on this last visit.

  “The remnants of House Mhoire were also more agitated and energetic than before, but we were unable to readily make contact with the slain Lord and Lady of the house. The method to do so would likely have slain us in confrontation with the Lord’s elite guard, all other things being equal.

  “However, we believe that it is a fine opportunity to finally send the members of the House off to their final rest.”

  I nodded slowly. “I will extend a Lived-Line there and begin the process of whittling them down. Are the rats there still a problem?”

  “Yes. Annoying things. Their warrens run under the entirety of the Graveyard. There is no way to get rid of them, above and beyond their continuous spawns.”

  “We will Seal the spawn points, but the best way to kill rats is not hacking on dog-sized monstrosities breathing acid, but proper poison. I should be able to fill their warrens with a suitable poison and wipe them out when I hit Fifteen.”

  “The Wide Progressions are Karma-intensive at Ten and later. How far are you along?”

  “The completion of the Aerlinthe Quest and destruction of the Behemoth was surprisingly rewarding, so much closer than I expected.” I frowned slightly, looking away. “I may not go Wide from Fifteen to Seventeen, however,” I admitted.

  “Oh? Why is that?”

  “I can send the True Olthoi Queen back home if I reach Seventeen on the Matrix Side.”

  He actually sat back slightly to look at me in astonishment. “Truly a worthy reason. And if going Wide is so costly even with the great events you’ve been a part of, a reasonable thing to do, especially if you wish to make such a move before our enemies organize against us.”

  I nodded slowly. “However, we will probably still have to kill the mutant Olthoi Queen on Marae Lassel, and the Paradox Queen in the north. They are born of this world and native to it. The True Queen will not allow them to bring their mutations home and eventually challenge her for dominance with their mutations.”

  “That is a far simpler matter than slaughtering the olthoi of every hive in the north,” Master Ben Ten nodded slowly. “You will indeed have to be grinding away for Karma every day to pay those costs.”

  “It’s a good thing this place is so Karma-intensive,” I agreed as he took another silent sip, sighing and clearly enjoying the flavor and sensation of the drink.

  “That is true. I thought I was long past having to worry about such matters, and then Her Highness came with the Seven Dragons. Realizing there is so much more to learn about the sword is a humbling moment.”

  “I remember you mentioning taking Master Oswald’s step and seeing if the Temple of Forgetfulness would be able to help you reallocate some of your current Karma to the Matrix side. How did that work out?” I inquired of him.

  “It was successful! However, the conversion of Karma from the Isparian side of the system to the Matrix side must be quite brutal. I believe you said the Isparian method being part of the Empyrean method means that it is more about sheer quantity of Karma overcoming resistance than the more qualitative measures of the Matrix method, yes?”

  “That is correct. There is no direct correlation in Karma that we can tell, it seems to vary by the foe and source of the Karma. The Matrix side rewards what we might want to call actual growth of mind, body, and soul, rewarding the striving by opening doors. The Isparian side simply accumulates raw Karma and because it can be allocated so freely, instead of by Class functions, takes more and more to accomplish everything as the impetus builds towards the limits of the System.”

  “Master Harlune has not been able to enlighten us on breaking the limits on the Empyrean System, despite being able to selectively harness it,” Master Ben sighed, cupping his mistily cold tea thoughtfully.

  “The explanation likely lies in the Heiromancer Halls where he received his advanced magery training. There is likely a ritual they undertake that releases the mortal limits on their system and he did not realize it, or simply spending time in the place with some sort of spell formation active that conditions them to accept it. He might also have been subjected to a Geas or similar compulsion to be unable to reveal the elements of Empyrean advancement.”

  “The vast majority of the undead, and indeed, most Empyreans, never actually reached the Empyrean levels. The number of undead who could administer spells beyond the Incantor Tier that we have encountered has been quite small…” he mused after a moment of consideration.

  “Consider Asheron. According to the lore we have, none of the Yalain or Haebran magi, even such as Gaerlan, had the power to travel the worlds. It is an art almost entirely restricted to the undead of Dericost. Yet the ratio of Dericost undead who can even use Incantor magic is hundreds to one, and beyond that even smaller in number.”

  “They are capable of raising their physical Stats to levels higher than we are, especially their Health, but that does not seem to grant them extraordinary combat ability, that is true,” Master Ben agreed. “So, ah, requirements within the Empyrean System too, I would guess?”

  “That is my guess, too. The secrets of advancement hoarded by the powerful and doled only reluctantly to the loyal and most trusted.”

  “Naturally. They are feudal imperialists, it is the proven way.” His tone was wry, as he was also a member of the Murim, which also had some very competitive meritocratic factions. Sects, dojos, and independent masters often stayed independent of the Family-owned and dominated schools that were basically alternate feudal fiefdoms in many ways.

  “If Rytheran has left the Graveyard, that means power is shifting. Stories say that he is tired, and only his love for Lady Aerefalle has allowed him to return to life. I believe we can guess that he first wants to identify the killers of his Lady and come after them, then eliminate any traitors he can until he perishes.”

  “But there is nothing to identify the killers with her buried under the lava of Aerlinthe. Do you believe he will go after your party?” he asked reasonably.

  “He has the words of dozens of undead scouts that we never came near the Keep. The energy pulse from the Behemoth might be determined as the cause, of course, but just the disruption to the Wards should not have been enough to do the job. He can probably identify the precise moment of her death if he can recover her remains. The majority of the undead also managing to Recall out of her Keep also indicates she was dead before the Keep fell, unless she has gone to some place so secret she didn’t even tell Rytheran of it…”

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