The ship edged closer to the docks. Sailors shouted and threw ropes, and man on land grabbed them and secured the vessel. A gangplank was dropped into place with a thud, and before it had stopped bouncing a heavy boot stepped onto it, marching down to Liston's port.

  Captain Blackhook made sure he spat with disgust before his foot touched the wooden platform. He wanted his spite to be the first thing to touch this nobody town. A local official came up to discuss the details of Blackhook's mooring. The captain jerked a thumb behind his shoulder and kept walking.

  "Talk to Bonds, he's my first."

  The official hesitated, but Blackhook was already well past him. A nearby guard saw the whole thing and walked towards the captain with a stern look on his face.

  "Halt there, captain, in the name of—"

  Blackhook wasn't quite in a killing mood today. He grabbed the guard by his leather vest and threw him one-handed into the harbor. The guard skipped once on the surface of the water, which made the corner of Blackhook's mouth quirk in a smile, before plummeting into the depths, weighed down by armor and weapons and all that nonsense. Blackhook kept walking.

  He strode down to the first tavern he saw, shoving the heavy door open with a crash. The boisterous noise lowered a bit as everybody looked to see who had come in. Blackhook surveyed the room, looking to see if he was in the right place. Lucky for Bell, it was the correct tavern. Blackhook stomped his way over to his former shipmate and sat down heavily. He grabbed Bell's half-empty mug and started draining it. He'd always loved doing that to Bell.

  Bell himself crossed his huge arms and stared at Blackhook, trying to convey superiority and confidence without actually starting anything serious. Blackhook eventually finished the drink, and slammed the mug down on the table, cracking both table and mug.

  "So, Bellie, I got your message. Congratulations on captain, by the way."

  "Thanks, Ca—Blackhook. I'm kind of a big deal around here."

  "Legal?"

  "Sometimes. Whatever gets the coin."

  "Fair enough. Now tell me."

  Blackhook leaned forwards and his leather vest creaked as it tried to contain his muscular form.

  "Who got Sod and Heresh?"

  Jane walked into the library to purchase her first spell. It was a moment she'd been waiting for her entire life. The Red Daggers weren't super high on funds yet, but Gretta and Teeth had lugged sacks of ore from the mine back to Liston. Gretta had borrowed a furnace from someone she knew in the smithing district, and they'd sold iron and gold ingots for a tidy sum. Not enough for a high tier spell, but...

  Jane walked up to the desk and placed five pouches with twenty gold each in front of the man standing there with eyebrows raised.

  "No banking, miss Jane?"

  Jane mentally kicked Zig a thousand times over.

  "I haven't got round to it, sir. I just arrived recently."

  Jane had assumed Liston didn't have the banking system of larger cities. Grimsby sure hadn't. Most things were purchased with a couple of coins at most. When goods were exchanged by coins in the hundreds... Jane sighed. Of course there was a banking system.

  "I hope it's ok with the coins."

  "Of course, of course." The man peered into one bag, then saw how all bags were roughly the same size. "One hundred, is it? A tier one spell?"

  "Magic Bolt," Jane said in a whisper.

  The man turned around to look at the scrolls on his shelves.

  "How did you know my name, mister...?"

  "Lent. As for how I know your name..." Lent turned around with an incredulous look and gestured at all the library of Liston's academy, filled with books and magical scrolls.

  "Magic?"

  "What? No, we're in a school. I have to know who's registered, so I know who I can sell to."

  "Oh."

  Jane thanked Lent, took the scroll, and went to the academy's courtyard. She sat at a bench in front of a fountain, and watched it for a little while, preparing herself. There were little fish in the fountain's pond, and they would occasionally swim into the middle where a jet of water would fling them into the air. It seemed like the fish enjoyed the sensation of flying.

  "Me too, fish. Me too," Jane said with a smile. She looked down at the scroll in her hands, taking deep breaths.

  "Time to fly."

  She opened the scroll, and saw the script was written in an ink that glowed a soft blue. As she unfurled it and started to read, the glowing words flew gently off the scroll and into Jane's chest. She gasped. The scroll was a story of a little girl. A diary. The girl had been playing in the woods, chasing butterflies, then a squirrel, before coming face to face with a wolf. Where most little girls met their end in such a situation, this little girl pulled strings of mana from her gut, wrapped them into a spike, and flung it into the creature. She had discovered, purely by chance and sheer desperation, how to cast Magic Bolt.

  As Jane read, the story imprinted itself in her brain as if they were memories. She could see the wolf, saliva dripping from its snarling jaws. She remembered the fear, the terror. Most importantly, she remembered exactly how she'd pulled strings of mana into a magic bolt. Jane instantly knew she could do the same, right now.

  Jane reached into her mana core, near her stomach. She drew out strands in ways she'd never thought possible before, twisting them around as she had in her memories. It formed a hardened spike that dripped mana, starting dissolve as soon as it formed. Jane flicked her wrist, and the bolt shot away from her, soaring through the air and impaling a fish that had ridden the fountain into the air. Oops.

  Jane put a hand to her mouth as bits of fish rained down on the courtyard. The magic bolt kept soaring in a straight line, not falling to the earth like a normal arrow might do. At a certain distance, the bolt unraveled completely and disappeared.

  Jane stared at the remains of fish guts on the ground. Poor thing. She tried to hold on to any kind of sympathy and remorse, but all she could think about was—

  "WOOHOOO."

  Jane punched the air in triumph. She'd cast a spell. She leapt to her feet and began dancing around the courtyard.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Gutters hefted his axe. Passion. He closed his eyes, felt the grain of the wood on the axe handle, felt the sun on his back, felt a trickle of sweat go down his neck. A bird chirped in the distance. Gutters cracked an eye open again, because swinging an axe with your eyes shut seemed like a really bad idea. He tightened his grip, and brought the axe down and sideways, pulling the tool toward him to speed it up as it fell. The axe was a fresh one, sharp, and it flashed a little in the sunlight. It flew into the tree trunk and bit deep. Very deep. Gutters smiled.

  He'd cut about eighty trees down by now. Enough time to really refine his technique. Enough time to break through and gain Endurance, like Knob had. Enough time to focus on swinging as hard as he could, eventually gaining Strength, like Knob had. Gutters hadn't earned the construction skill, though. His focus, his passion, was somewhere else. He tugged the axe out of the trunk and repeated the process twice more. One final cut and the axe head dug almost cleanly through. The tree toppled, and Gutters stepped neatly out of the way as it fell.

  New skill acquired! Chop (Basic)

  Gutters' large eyes gleamed. That was exactly what he was hoping for. The fact that it didn't seem specific to trees... Gutters threw his axe down and ran over to his rapier, lying with his backpack on the ground. He drew it, aimed at nothing at all, and chopped down. The blade whipped through the air, and Gutters scowled. It was hard to tell, when you were just cutting air. He chopped at a tree, and to his delight, the sword thunked deep into the wood. That wouldn't have been so effective before.

  "So it's not limited to axes," Gutters thought aloud, "but is it just for trees?"

  The half-troglodyte reluctantly chopped down on the only non-tree thing he could see—a large boulder. To his joy and relief, the blade bit deep, proving the skill was completely compatible with his rapier. He lifted the now incredible dented and dull rapier and stared at it with dismay.

  "So long, buddy. You died for a good cause."

  Maybe Gretta could fix it. Gutters put it back down with his gear and went back to his axe. All the trees on the hill around the Red Mine were gone. In its place was a giant dirt fortress, surrounded by fallen trees scattered across the foot of the hill. Gutters was no longer clearing the hill, instead he was cutting a road back to Liston. Once they cleared a path, they'd be able to bring wagons to and fro. Gutters, armed with Endurance, Strength, and now Chop, picked up his axe and went back to work.

  Hepp had picked up the strangest skill. Smooth Wall (Extreme). It made sense, Hepp supposed. He'd been working on this place for days on end. Endurance was really something. The Red Daggers rested whenever they wanted to. Thing was, they seldom wanted to. Hepp had dug a path to the gold on the first day of digging, but he liked clearing out the dirt, so he kept digging. He dug a tunnel, then a cavern around the rock wall to make it easier for Zig and Gretta to mine it. Then he dug another tunnel, hard to notice, that made its way to the other side of the hill. Then he went back to the cavern and made it wider.

  Then things got a little crazy.

  Hepp had invited Knob down to fortify the tunnels and cavern. Gretta remembered the basics of it from growing up in a mining clan, and Knob had picked it up like a goblin to crafting. The green boy was constantly running from outside to gather more wood, back to the mine where he'd add structural support while muttering things to himself like "yes, yes, it could all come crashing down if we break this beam... here," marking the spot with a bit of charcoal.

  With—somewhat tenuous—confidence that the mine wouldn't collapse, Hepp started digging a slowly spiraling tunnel down, opening up to a second cavern below the first one. Sometimes the dirt turned to clay or a mixture of dirty gravel. That was fine, as long as it wasn't solid rock, Hepp's Dig skill kicked in and at Extreme it tore into the land with ease.

  In the second cavern, Hepp started carving out dirt couches, dirt tables, even a dirt fireplace. That took a while, because Hepp then needed to make a chimney for the smoke to go out. Knob came to add supporting beams, and pointed out that the chimney was a security weak point.

  "If you have a tunnel leading to the top, you better trap it."

  Hepp thought that was fair, so he dug a huge pit halfway up the chimney tunnel. Anyone trying to come through would be in for a nasty fall.

  Throughout all the digging, Hepp had been trying to make the walls fairly smooth. Why not? And then the skill kicked in. Smooth Wall. Hepp had no idea what the basic version did. At Extreme, Hepp could tap, scrape, even bash the wall with his shovel, and all the imperfections would fall off, leaving a smooth finish that looked like someone had spent hours on the thing. Hepp smoothed the furniture, and found that hardly any dirt would come off from the surface onto clothes anymore. Hepp had to run and fetch Gutters to test it out. Hepp himself was absolutely filthy.

  "How long have you been working on this?"

  Hepp turned around and saw Gretta had come back from town. He smiled, his teeth the only part of him not covered in mud.

  "Like it? We're not a real gang until we have a secret hideout, right?"

  "Hepp we're not a gang. I think. And I don't think a dirt fortress on a hill counts as a secret."

  "Bah, it's still a secret hideout. Knob even suggested some traps."

  "Hepp, is that a fireplace? Underground?"

  "Sure is. Pretty cool, huh?"

  "Hepp! You'll die if you light that!"

  "Hey, hey, I dug out a chimney tunnel, see? All the smoke goes up to the surface."

  Gretta put a hand over her face.

  "I'm so glad I came down. It's not just about smoke, Hepp. Fire eats air."

  "Fire... eats air?"

  "You know what I mean. Why do you think a forge has bellows?"

  "Coz wind makes fire angry and hot, everyone knows that."

  "Fire doesn't get angry, Hepp, it just likes air. You know who else likes air? You. Me. Living creatures that breathe. Don't light a fire underground."

  Hepp stared at the fireplace, stroking his chin.

  "What if we got some air?"

  "How?"

  "A second chimney. Other side of the room. Make a little wind tunnel."

  "No, that's—actually, that might work."

  Hepp patted Gretta on the back, and got back to digging.

  Blackhook knocked on the door.

  "Just a minute," came a muffled cry from within.

  Blackhook looked at the small stream of blood seeping out from underneath the door. He frowned, and turned the knob. It was locked, but that had never stopped Blackhook. He kept turning until the doorknob groaned and twisted out of place. The captain pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  It wasn't dimly lit. There wasn't a single, solitary candle like Bell had recalled. Blackhook wished there was only one candle. Even he wasn't immune to this amount of blood.

  Blood covered the walls. The ceiling. The floors. Skulls—very fresh skulls—dotted the edges of the room. Some were placed well, some tossed roughly into place. They weren't human skulls. Two wolves, a bear, a mountain cat, and a deer. The Alchemist was in the middle of mounting the deer skull on a wall. Bits of deer were still falling out of it.

  "Should I... come back later?"

  Blackhook had come looking for a fight. He rarely used a weapon these days, but he'd even strapped a cutlass to his belt. Nobody messed with the trade ships. Nobody messed with the reputation of captains. He'd come here...

  The Alchemist finally got the angle of the deer head just right and turned around. It was just a boy. A boy covered in blood. He had a wild look in his eyes, and his hands were shaking slightly.

  "Blackhook! Just the man I was told to see. I'm the Alchemist. Ha. Do you like the blood? I just thought of it this morning. Is it enough, do you think? I've been going crazy trying to think of a solution but I think this is it!"

  Blackhook hadn't felt this much on the back foot in a long time.

  "It's... certainly a lot."

  "Yea, the volume tends to be the trick. Do you know how many animals I killed to get some skulls that were still intact? Filled out a few guild bounties just by accident! It's insane, this world is insane."

  Zig shook his head in exasperation. Bits of flesh flew from his filthy cloak at the movement. Blackhook nodded carefully, slowly. He was reminded of approaching a wild fanged horse, one of the beasts from down south. This man was clearly on his last scraps of sanity. The captain started stepping backwards. Smooth steps. No sudden motion. There, boy. Easy does it.

  "Aye, the world is pretty crazy these days."

  "But it's needed, you know? All this." The Alchemist waved a hand and a bit of blood flew off his fingers and landed on Blackhook's cheek. "It's a bit much but I think it'll work this time! Hey, captain? Are you feeling stabby? Any inclination to fight?"

  "I... no inclination today, mister Alchemist."

  Blackhook was almost at the door. At least, he hoped he was. It was hard to see without taking his eyes off the boy.

  "Aha! See? It works. I think I'm a real alchemist now. Turning beasts into blood, turning blood into fear, turning fear into gold! How's that for alchemy?"

  "It's something. It sure is something. Hey, what's that over there?"

  "Hmm? I don't see anything. Wha—oh."

  Zig turned back to the empty room, and realized that his plan had almost worked. There'd been no fighting, no stabbing. That captain looked like a rough guy, but he hadn't even put a hand on his sword. Zig had finally found a way for "The Alchemist" to do business that didn't jump straight to violence.

  There was a bit of a mess, but Jints could take care of that. He'd probably even thank Zig for the experience, maybe leveling Cleanse along the way. But there was one thing missing from this whole experience. Zig sighed. He needed some rest. All this setup, and despite everything—

  They'd forgotten to talk business.

  Hey fam, I made a shoutout thingy! It took me ages to get everything right. If anyone is an author and wants to do a shoutout exchange, send me a msg. I will read at least a few chapters and give an honest review.

  by Liam West

  Zig didn't mean to kill the large tribe of goblins. Or the herds of deer, colonies of rabbits, wolves, yetis, and mountain goats. It was sort of an accident, but...

  That was the day he became Legendary.

  ?? Read Now