Chapter 14

Arvis woke to a notification.

[Feat Achieved! Recruit five thousand followers

+1x Gold Advantage Random Gacha ticket]

He stared at the glowing text, momentarily disoriented by the notification, then it clicked. He didn’t need to be actively accepting their fealty.

“Oh, this opens up some interesting opportunities,” he muttered. Especially since he had to double his followers to get another ticket.

One that would hopefully be another Platinum.

It changed the calculus significantly. If delegation counted, if the people working under his banner could expand the faction without his personal involvement, then the growth ceiling was no longer limited by how many refugees he could meet directly.

Then, a sigh escaped his mouth. While the idea was nice in theory, he didn’t exactly have anyone he could send into another place without failing spectacularly.

He filed that insight away to be used once he had people he could trust, and activated the ticket.

[Select one!]

[Expert Cooking]

{Elite Skill: You are an expert in the culinary arts, you are better than most chefs will ever be. You can cook almost any meal if given ingredients and it will almost certainly taste great. At the very least, no one leaves your dining table unsatisfied. Still not quite at foodgasm levels but you are close.}

[Necromantic Heart]

{Elite Trait: Race Change – You possess the Necromantic Heart, turning you undead, but at the same time, granting you the capacity to evolve. You start as (Uncommon trait)Skeleton but the more time you spend “alive”, the more you kill and the more negative energy you immerse yourself in, the faster you will evolve into the next tier of undead. In addition, you can still retain a humanoid facade that can act with the same functions as a human but will fall apart when you use your undead traits or get damaged.}

He sighed even as he selected Expert Cooking. Technically, it was a good selection, with two elites. Unfortunately, one of them was another offer to turn undead, which he refused without blinking.

Cooking was not exactly his highest priority.

However, as he started processing the information, he decided that he was wrong. With that information, there were hundreds of recipes. Some were the fancy stuff that had no place on a battlefield, but he was surprised just how many simpler recipes there were, including a variety of military rations that would not only feed the soldiers and last long, but actually taste nice.

It was hard to overstate how much the quality of the food affected the morale of the soldiers, and the same would apply to the refugees as well.

He closed his eyes, trying to process the information with little context. Flavor profiles, preparation methods, and the instinctive understanding of how ingredients interacted separated a competent cook from a true chef, the combinations of spices and food…

All he needed to test just how good it tasted. His room didn’t have a kitchen, but he had a plate waiting for him. Nothing fancy, just bread, cheese, and some dried meat. Looking at them, his mind was already filled with a dozen different ways of creating a sandwich, and that was without adding some of the mana tricks that could replicate more complicated ones.

He could have leveraged bloom to create many ingredients. Instead, he raised his finger, focusing his mana to create a small flame, using it to toast the bread and melt the cheese, carefully applying his newly acquired knowledge.

Still, he didn’t expect much. It was merely a cheese and meat sandwich, made of substandard material. How could it be—

His eyes widened.

It wasn’t the best thing he had eaten, but it was close. Considering he had been invited to many noble parties until the demise of his father, he had a lot of highbrow food to compare.

He changed his mind. Even without all the strategic benefits, it would have been a worthwhile pick.

He ignored everything else, and took another bite, enjoying the incredible taste that had come from such humble ingredients. Just three elements, but combined perfectly to rise to the point of artistry.

He ate the entire sandwich, standing in the room, humming as he enjoyed the aftertaste. For one glorious moment, nothing else mattered.

Unfortunately, as the taste faded, his problems returned. Problems like how to survive against the Scourge, the best way to grow his faction, potentially dipping his hands in elven politics to see if he could convince Sylvanas to lend him a few rangers.

He crossed his legs, sat down, and closed his eyes. He decided to start with the simplest part of his large list of things to be completed.

His magical proficiency.

The teaching session he had with Allerton helped him immensely, finally bridging the gap between his meager knowledge and some of the more advanced techniques he discovered through blind experimentation.

The thing he was lacking was soul awareness, a metaphysical perception of the world while ignoring the physical.

He closed his eyes and turned his attention inward, following Allerton’s instructions, breathing hard. He ignored not only his body, but also his mana reserves, which seemed to be his biggest mistake. He tried to use them as anchor, unaware that he was limiting himself.

He went deeper.

While explaining, Allerton had been very careful not to overpromise, warning him that it took something between months and years to develop proper awareness.

Talented and Conceptualization already represented an effective combination now that he had proper guidance. Conceptualization provided the framework, translating the abstract into something his mind could grasp. Talented allowed him to make instinctual connections.

He stayed with his legs crossed, every breath he took letting him fall deeper into a dazed state.

Then, the world shifted.

It wasn’t dramatic. No flash of light, no surge of power, no voice from beyond. Just a quiet expansion of perception, like a door opening in a room he’d always known was there but had never been able to enter.

He could feel his own soul … or, at least, what he assumed to be his soul. A warmth overlapping his body.

With that achieved, the rest was easy. All he needed was to focus on that warmth, and see the world through it. He didn’t need to breathe in to assess the mana around, nor did he need to send pulses to measure density.

He could see mana.

Admittedly, it was clearer than what Allerton’s explanation suggested, but he suspected it was about Sensor trait paying off. With that, he didn’t even need to focus or search desperately. He could feel the faint presence of something vast.

The Twisting Nether.

He didn’t reach for it.

The awareness of his soul brought another understanding; though it might also be the implied understanding from Conception. His soul was … well, not ready to battle against the impact of a pure energy dimension.

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For the moment, he was happy leaving that. Instead, he focused on meditating actively. With the awareness in place, he was able to pull mana toward him more effectively than his breathing technique allowed, meaning he didn’t need to use the breathing technique for two minutes to fill his reserves.

Just ten seconds was more than enough for his current reserves. The only issue was that, using Total Concentration Breathing meant that he could move and fight while regenerating his mana, but meditating would require him to stand still.

“Still, having situational options is good,” he decided. Ultimately, mana was still not a core part of his combat style, and these deficiencies could be addressed then.

Curious, he raised his finger once again, transforming his mana between arcane and elemental. His improvement had increased radically, the added awareness allowing him to see details that were previously invisible.

His casting speed and precision also improved significantly, showing that Allerton wasn’t exaggerating when he described Soul Awareness as the barrier between amateur and professional.

He dissolved the orb and stood, stretching his muscles. His body had improved too much to feel stiff, but he still did a few warm-up moves.

“I wish I had the luxury of celebrating this achievement,” he muttered to himself, even as he left his room. Once again, he made sure to walk around the city to show himself, grow some more food using the enhanced seeds, and then he visited Halford.

“Are you going to leave again, my Lord?” he asked.

“Yes. The city is coming along nicely, and I can do more good outside.”

He sighed. “I can see the logic, but please be careful. The only thing that’s keeping this place going is you. If something happens to you, all of us will die.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Arvis replied, even though he believed his guess wasn’t too far from reality. “Don’t worry. I’m not a paladin. I won’t throw myself into a losing battle out of principle.”

Halford smirked. “I want to call bullshit on that, but considering you allowed yourself to be exiled to a place you were bullied and insulted casually just to bide your time, I don’t think I can.”

Arvis nodded in acceptance, not correcting him about the exact timing of his powers. “Any news about the smugglers and pirates?”

He pulled a map with six spots marked, all of them to the west of Stratholme, stretching along the coast. “Nothing is certain in this mess, but these are the most likely spots they will be,” he said.

“Good. Once again, act like I’m in my room, recovering after growing all those gardens. Don’t forget to fire all the fireworks if you face a real emergency.”

Halford nodded.