War Aeternus 2: Sacrifices Page 5

  The second source of his problem was from the hundreds of people all around him. They were tightly pressed together in the streets, passing him constantly, and he had a nagging fear that someone working for one of the other Heralds might take advantage of the crowds and stab him in the back, ending his budding religion as quickly as it had started. There was no way to defend against it or predict where it might come from. Each and every passerby was suspect, and even with his golems’ help, he still couldn’t keep an eye on every person within stabbing distance at the same time.

  Finally, he was stressed out because he hadn’t been back to Satterfield since yesterday morning, and he had an itch in the back of his mind telling him that he needed to check in on his congregation. The entire town had quickly morphed into the de-facto capital of his Church of Bacon and Booze, as he jokingly thought of it, and after the first restaurant-maintenance-fiasco, he didn’t trust the others to handle things. His flock might be great at pounding back beers and spreading the merriment of the order, but without Lee’s cooking ability, they couldn’t produce the fried chicken that had become their staple fast enough to keep up with demand. Like an idiot, Lee had bought the two places adjacent to Ramon’s tavern and morphed them into a single large ‘church’ that held way more people than the kitchen or the staff could ever hope to handle. Despite his experience in restaurants and his cooking skill, he felt like he was constantly behind. The whole experience brought back repressed memories from his days working in the service industry that he would rather not remember at all.

  “You know you do have enough faith to go back a few times,” Augustus, the god who had first sent him to this world, reminded him.

  It didn’t help his mood any that he was constantly being watched by a drunken god who preferred the guise of a primate rather than that of his own skin and spied on him like the paparazzi over a reality TV star. To make matters worse, Augustus seemed to have an innate ability to always know what Lee was thinking. “Oh, don’t look constipated! I’m just trying to be helpful. I don’t know if it’s appropriate or ironic that you take life way too seriously as the Herald of Alcohol. You really just need to get a few drinks in you, get laid and relax. This game isn’t going to end anytime soon, so you better learn to enjoy the breaks you get.”

  Lee assumed that Augustus meant well, but it was hard to take him seriously. The god was sometimes bitter, abusive and insulting, and he often lashed out at Lee for any little perceived shortcoming. Even when he did decide to provide Lee with some form of advice or information, it was often mocking, degrading and biting--sort of like this mild pestering that Lee was experiencing at the moment--but Augustus could be sincere and charming on occasion too. His random personality swings made it impossible for Lee to ever predict which side of Augustus he was going to see.

  “What would I even do if I went back?” Lee asked.

  “I don’t know. Learn a few skills like you did before? Maybe finally bang that Russian chick who was following you around with that dopey grin and puppy-dog eyes?”

  Lee involuntarily recoiled at the suggestion. He wasn’t disgusted at the idea of sex, per se, he was just annoyed at Augustus for trying to push him into doing it. “I don’t need to hook up with a random chick.”

  “Fine! Don’t have sex! Just go ahead and play the part of the Japanese main character in almost every anime and build up a harem of women that you never make it past first base with!” Augustus laughed so loudly that his voice echoed through Lee’s head.

  “I’m not doing that. And my life is not some cartoon!” Lee protested, but Augustus’s laughter only grew greater.

  “Sure, sure. You’ve literally had a girl sleep in your bed every night since you got back to this world, and you have yet to even grab some--”

  “Will you stop it!” Lee shouted, cutting off Augustus. “I don’t need any relationship advice from my sometimes-literal-dog-of-an-ancestor. I’m doing fine.”

  “Doing fine? Is that what you call it? You’re leveling up like a regular player without taking advantage of your status as a Herald at all, and you’re still using that crutch I gave you to get anything of meaning done with your power,” Augustus chided, his discontent evident in his tone. “Come on! Let’s go back to the other world for a while. Heck, if you want to think of me as a dog, I’ll shapeshift into one and help you pick up girls. Girls love dogs, right?”

  “What crutch? What do you mean?” Lee asked, still focused on the discussion of powers.

  “That? Well, I can’t spell things out. That’s cheating. Anyway, I’ll see you tonight. I’m sure you’ll be begging me to help out once the sun sets . . . to get you to a nice beach where you can eat, drink, spend time with women, drink some more and do crazy things like any descendant of mine would if his intelligence weren’t zero! Because right now”--he paused to chuckle--“this is just sad to watch.”

  Lee frowned. Augustus was quick to mock Lee’s intelligence any time he didn’t immediately comply with the god’s wishes--apparently even when Lee refused to risk making a woman like Amber, who had likely gone through hell when she had been a slave, relive old wounds by being in any way pushy or forward.

  “Just keep your offer. I’m not going to need it tonight,” Lee answered with some hesitation. He made sure to emphasize the word ‘tonight’ since he might actually need to take it up soon. Even if he was annoyed at Augustus for pressuring him into behaving in a way that he didn’t feel was natural or for mocking his life decisions, the idea itself wasn’t a bad one. More time in own world meant another opportunity to acquire more knowledge and the chance to refine the skills he already had. In turn, that meant more power and an increased chance of surviving in this world. After his last visit, it had become clear to him that the time he spent in each world benefited his time in the other. And, as reluctant as he was to admit it to Augustus, he did like the looks of Masha, the Russian girl Augustus kept referring to.

  Augustus’ annoying laughter cascaded in the back of Lee’s head. “See you tonight!” he finished, and then the laughter disappeared instantly.

  Well, that’s not creepy at all. The edges of Lee’s mouth pulled downward as if they were caught on fishing hooks and yanked toward the ground with enough force to pull the Loch Ness monster.

  “Something wrong?” Miller asked, putting a hand on Lee’s shoulder.

  “No, just”--Lee looked around--“just feeling uneasy.”

  “A beer,” Miller answered resolutely. “You need a beer.”

  “Huh?”

  “Don’t worry, boss. I’ve got you covered.” Miller grinned as he pulled out one of his spears, ignoring the fact they were in the middle of the street in a large city that frowned upon the use or arming of weapons within its walls in any way.

  People turned in alarm, and Lee’s eyes opened wider as he realized what was about to happen. It was like watching a car wreck in slow motion as the jolly giant lifted the spear and slammed its butt down onto the ground, letting out his Drunken Shout onto Lee and every single innocent bystander around them at the same time. Lee was used to the experience, so he wasn’t too horribly affected, but as he turned and looked around, he grimaced at the horror of what happened around him. The blast of inebriation slammed into the unsuspecting populace like an alcoholic hotbox, leaving everyone except for Lee and his group teetering back and forth in an alcoholic stupor and struggling to stay upright. He watched as two horses which had been pulling a sort of two-wheeled carriage just stopped and lay down, their weight heavy enough to tilt the carriage forward on its single axle. A clear thump from inside the cab let Lee know that the likely-sloshed passengers had roughly crashed to the front end of the carriage. Even worse, a group of children who had been playing nearby started spinning in circles and grabbing onto one another for support in a rather funny, cute, childish yet alarming sort of way.

  Holy crap, Miller! You didn’t just get everyone here drunk: you managed to get a classroom’s worth of children intoxicated! What the hec
k is wrong with you? Lee was caught between his desire to laugh and his frustration with the oaf’s inability to sense basic propriety. You don’t get children drunk! He wanted to shout the admonition, but he refrained for now. He knew that he would have to lecture his Firbolg companion later on the basics of social acceptability and decorum, but this wasn’t the time or place for it.

  “We have to get out of here. Now,” Lee said urgently, hurriedly grabbing Amber’s hand and pulling her through the crowd. He glanced back to make sure that Miller and Ling were following him and then ducked into an alleyway as quickly as possible.

  “Where are we going in such a rush?” Miller asked, beaming with pride.

  Someone covered in that much blood and carrying around severed heads shouldn’t look that happy. It’s more unnerving than listening to Augustus talk about sex. “We’re going to turn in the bounties and these heads,” Lee answered, coming up with the first excuse he could. “I just figured we should do it as soon as possible so we can get to the bar quicker and make sure we have a place to crash tonight.”

  Miller paused, his expression deflating before his grin returned. “That’s right! Great idea! You’re always using that head of yours, Lee!” His own massive noggin bobbed up and down in acknowledgment. He paused, and something crossed his face that looked like he was either thinking or trying to push out a fart. “I bet that, if we knock out the stupid money chores early, we can try to tackle at least thirty different beers each. I hear this town has beers shipped in from across the entire region!” Miller wiped the drool from his mouth when he finished speaking. It was evident exactly how eager he was for beer.

  Lee frowned. What the heck? I like beer as much as the next guy, but that would leave me looking more irresponsible than a group of barely-employed adults skipping work to hang out at an overpriced cafe in the middle of New York.

  “That, on top of the cost of the inn for the night, would cost us over half of what we’ve earned today.”

  “Oh, that’s right . . .” Miller groaned, his goofy grin drooping until it matched Lee’s frown. “We have to pay street price for the beers here. That’s just not right. Aren’t you the son of the God of Alcohol? Shouldn’t you be able to turn water into ale or something?”

  “I could try, but things didn’t turn out well for the last guy who turned water into alcohol,” Lee chuckled. “He ended up never being able to drive home.”

  “Why?” Miller asked as all three of Lee’s companions looked at him in confusion. “Did he get the horse too drunk to steer the carriage? Is that even a big deal though? Couldn’t he just walk?”

  Drunken horse? Oh, God . . . Even though Lee had just seen real-life equine inebriation only moments earlier, the mental image still made him laugh. He shouldn't have--it probably counted as animal cruelty to some groups back home--but the thought of all the antics a drunk horse might get up to was still amusing. After his little laugh, he noticed the bewildered expression on Miller’s face and said, “He couldn’t drive because . . . Well, I guess he did walk everywhere, but . . . Just . . . You know, don’t worry about it.”

  “Well, forget him then. Here.” Miller passed Lee a waterskin. “Try changing this into beer. As the son of a deity, you can do anything. I have absolute faith in you.”

  Lee did his best to think of how he would approach such a feat. He used magic whenever he healed someone, which was fairly often, and he used it when making clay into a golem, so he wasn’t unfamiliar with the process. He pulled some of his spirit and funneled it into the waterskin. He thought of beer while circulating the mana through the water, and after a minute or so, he knew that something had changed. He couldn't tell exactly what had happened, but he knew that some of his mana was missing, so he stopped and opened the waterskin and poured a drop of it into the palm of his hand to inspect it.

  “What is it?” Ling asked, inspecting the dark-violet-colored liquid. The small drop glowed visibly in the palm of his hand, letting off a small amount of amethyst-tinted light. It clearly wasn’t beer, but it definitely wasn’t water either.

  “I don’t know,” Lee answered. “It looks . . . weird.”

  “You don’t know? You made it!” Amber grabbed his hand and flattened it out so the bead of purple water was even more prominent.

  Well, if it’s anything like video game logic, then blue is for mana potions, red is for health potions, and purple is for . . . Lee didn’t have time to finish his thoughts on the matter before Miller stuck out his finger and did his best to scoop it up.

  “Oh, that tastes delicious,” Miller said as he popped the drop of water in his mouth. “But it’s not alcoholic.”

  “Here, let me try.” Ling grabbed the waterskin out of Lee’s hands with such dexterity that it made Lee question whether she was an archer or a thief. “Wow, that’s amazing!” Ling exclaimed with an extremely satisfied look on her face. “But . . .” She paused, took out a knife, and made a small cut on her arm before proceeding to drink some more. After a few sips, the cut on her arm healed up.

  They all watched in awe and disbelief as the skin butterflied across the wound and the red line vanished, leaving behind only the drops of blood that had already escaped onto her pale skin.

  “Drinking it made me feel just like I do when you heal me,” Ling explained. “It felt warm and nice, so I thought it might have the same effect.”

  That’s right! Blue is mana, red is healing, and purple is both! Lee took back the flask and downed a large swig of it himself. Although it wasn’t even close to being as much as had gone into making the purple water, some of his mana actually was restored. It figures that a world based on video game mechanics would follow the standard video game rules. Isn’t that right, system?

  It’s more appropriate to say that all video games follow the principles that this world does than to say this world follows the principles of your video game worlds. Blood is the source of life, and so that which restores life naturally would often appear red. Water nourishes the spirit, and so that which heals one’s spirit will carry its color, blue. The two colors combined are purple. Your video games have copied life, and this system is the basis of life. Therefore, the egg, in this case, came after the chicken, as your expression goes.

  Lee wasn’t expecting it, but the system actually responded, and it answered in what felt like a somewhat-defensive manner. System, you don’t actually have a personality, do you? he asked hesitantly, remembering how all its previous answers were straight to the point and devoid of excess.

  Amber tried the elixir next, and the same happy, satisfied expression that Ling had spread across her face. Only Miller appeared to be dissatisfied, staring at the waterskin with his distaste evident on his face. “It’s nice, but it’s still not beer,” he grumbled.

  “Well, just because this isn’t beer, it doesn’t mean that I can’t make beer at all. I think . . . Hold on, there’s a store over there across the street. Let’s see if they sell some supplies I need,” Lee said, having managed to find a grocery store after only looking around for a second. If there was one aspect to this town that he found admirable, it was that there were restaurants and grocery stores everywhere. If there was an area large enough for stands, there were farmers or merchants trying to pawn off produce and merchandise.

  “What? It might still be possible?” Miller called out as Lee dashed to the store.

  Within a few minutes, Lee had the full kit of ingredients needed to make beer. The shopkeeper only sold by the barrel or box and not by individual units, but that wasn’t a problem since Lee’s strength was nearly three times that of a normal man’s back home--which was easily enough to hold a cart full of groceries without feeling any strain. The problem was stacking and balancing the containers and trying to maneuver around the store awkwardly without dropping anything. Despite being focused on the goods he was gathering up, he couldn't help but notice a strange man in all black staring at him. The tall, blue-haired man was flanked by two armed guards and spent his time tal
king with the grocer as Lee navigated through the store like a circus performer trying to balance ten spinning plates.

  “A brewer, are you?” the man asked, studying Lee through squinted eyes.

  “No, not really.” Lee shrugged and then mentally kicked himself for shrugging in front of a stranger who clearly looked like he was in a position of power. It was a bad habit he had built up as a way of deflecting direct answers, and it was one that needed to go if he were going to pass himself off as the enlightened, know-it-all prophet type. Avoiding direct answers was fitting enough but shrugging like an ignorant chump certainly wasn’t.

  “Then what are all these supplies for? It appears as if you have all the necessary ingredients for brewing beer,” the man observed, looking over the boxes that Lee was balancing.

  “A friend wanted me to try something. That’s all,” Lee answered before turning his attention back to the grocer. “So how much for all of this?”

  The grocer smiled as he started counting the boxes.

  “Haikai, just take an inventory and let me know what our good Human brother bought later. I’ll pay for it myself,” the man said, examining Lee once more.

  “That’s not necessary.” Lee declined with a shake of his head. He knew better than to take free things from a stranger. “I’ve got it.”

  “No, I insist. Please, allow me to take care of this,” the man repeated, giving a soft smile that didn’t match his inquisitive glare at all.

  “But . . .” Lee’s protest trailed off and died out.

  “If he says he’s paying, I ain’t taking your money,” the grocer said. “Just treat it as on the house, and have a good day.”

  “Well, thank you. Thank you very much,” Lee replied, finally relenting uneasily.

  “Don’t mention it. I’m Connacht,” he said with a tiny, polite nod of his head. “Consider this a greeting gift from one of us to another.” The way he said ‘one of us to another’ threw Lee for a loop, but he didn’t waste any time thinking about it. He still needed to get back to the group.