Once all the cards were on the table, negotiations proceeded at a fast pace. Maverick was quick to accept his one-year amendment, but he was playing hardball on the bone carving. Whatever it was that Arthur had seen on the undead elves, it seemed it was a big deal. It was Arthur who had to make a concession this time, and so he agreed to settle on a single entry-level tome on the ancient art.

  Maverick attempted to hide it, but it was clear he thought he’d managed to pull wool over Arthur's eyes. No doubt he expected Arthur to eventually sign on to a longer contract when he realised the book would get him nowhere without a proper teacher. Unfortunately for him, Arthur had access to Cyprus, an elven runesmith who had more knowledge on the art than the entirety of Haadran had probably amassed in its entire history.

  Arthur left the cafeteria feeling incredibly satisfied. The food had been delicious, and the deal even sweeter. He had two new monster cores and a leather-bound book burning a hole in his storage ring, and it took all his self-control not to immediately sprint back to his room. Once he arrived there, at a sedate pace, he would argue, he carried out a cursory check of his bedroom to see if there was any spyware installed.

  Arthur wouldn’t kid himself, though. If Maverick wanted to spy on him, there was little Arthur could do to prevent it. He wasn’t Iris, with all her anti-scrying rituals. And besides, he was being hunted across the entire realm already. Keeping his secrets close to his chest hadn’t stopped that from happening.

  The first thing Arthur did was summon Wovan. His soul splinter immediately made herself at home, crawling over his bed, her incredibly dense bodies almost tearing through the fabric. Arthur brought up her status.

  The latest battle hadn’t brought on any level-ups, but she was already nearing her first evolution at level 5. Solana had told him how his soul splinter would likely develop, gaining an additional ten bodies per level after her evolution, compared to her usual one.

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  Her growth rate was exponential. All she needed was time to grow into her strength. Arthur, however, wanted to turn the heat up a little, and he’d just lucked into the perfect ingredients to make that happen. Monsters, as opposed to sapient humanoids, gained a large portion of their power from monster cores and not direct battle. It was why elder beasts would often hoard cores for their offspring. Even for an Ender like Wovan, consuming Esmerald's core would push her to level 5 and her first evolution.

  Arthur wanted more than that, though.

  He’d gained the Shadow affinity when he consumed a baby apocalypse beast's core at level 1. Wovan was far, far stronger than he’d been back then, however, and she’d need a far stronger catalyst to give her similar results. If one Wyvern core wouldn’t do it, then what about three with over seven hundred levels between them? Esmerald and his partner had shared the same Storm affinity, and he was interested to see how the Solar affinity would tie into the mix.

  Arthur had come to Haadran with big plans. It was either that or place his life in the hands of luck when he returned to the Myopan realm. Solana said she could fool everyone for around two weeks. One of those had already passed, and he was nowhere near where he wanted to be yet. Arthur had a very specific idea for how he wanted his next refinement to go, and the foundations for it would be based on how exactly Wovan evolved today. After all, whatever growth she experienced would directly affect his own.

  He needed to get a taste of corruption, let his body acclimate a little before he threw it into the deep end with his own refinement. Wovan, however, was an Ender, and Arthur was willing to gamble that her nature would protect her from succumbing to it. Wovan had eaten a lot of the monsters he’d killed so far, and she hadn’t complained yet.

  Arthur pulled his Trusty Ikea Bowl from his storage ring. The once mundane object had changed significantly since the first time he used it and was one step away from becoming a true soul-bound item. All that was required was creating three legendary elixirs or a single mythical one—tasks that were far easier said than done.

  Placing the steel bowl on the floor, Arthur instructed Wovan to gather all her bodies around it. Next came the hard part. Getting a fancy magical syringe meant he no longer had to blow himself up to draw some blood, but using the item was just so much slower. Arthur drew fifty vials, over a litre of his blood, before he was satisfied. The liquid sat in his alchemy pot, dark crimson, almost purple-looking and far thicker than a normal human's blood, almost akin to honey.

  Next, Arthur removed the three Wyvern cores from his storage ring. Every one of them was a potent source of corruption alone, but when gathered together like this, they actively started to taint the ether in the room. Arthur suspected an unclassed human would fall to corruption within minutes if they were to take his place right now. A bead of sweat rolled down his chin, which Arthur was very quick to wipe away. He didn't want any foreign fluids making their way into his elixir.

  This was the moment of truth. Arthur wouldn't lie to himself. While he’d come to Haadran to become strong enough to protect himself and Wovan, he knew logically that it was an impossible goal. The Myopan realm was unfathomably large, and it contained millions of beings far stronger than he was. If the powers that be truly wanted him dead, a two-week training montage off-world would do fuck-all to save his life. It’d just make his suffering last that half-second longer when the time of his execution finally came.

  Arthur saw only four possible routes his future could take. Well, three, really, since the second would end just like the first.

  He would die. All his preparations would end up being for nought, and he’d return to Earth only to be captured and executed. Or captured and kept as an experiment, which was arguably worse in his book. His second option would be to continue fleeing, this time further into the corrupted realm after figuring out magical interplanetary travel.

  That would extend his life for a while, but it wouldn’t stop the people who were after him for very long. As soon as Solana’s little magic trick faded away, trackers on Iris' calibre could probably locate him in minutes, no matter where he decided to disappear to. And once the corrupted powerhouses of this fallen realm learned of who he was, he’d have double the enemies after him.

  Arthur's third option was the first one where he saw any chance of survival. It was also the one he hated the most. Once he returned to Earth, he’d have to sell his services to the highest bidder, attach himself to the strongest organisations he could find and trust in their protection. He’d become a puppet that moved at their whims, but at least he’d be alive. For as long as they thought he was useful.

  The thought of such a life revolted him. He would be a bird in a cage, a beloved pet, perhaps, but a pet nonetheless. What Arthur was trying to do right now was pave the way for a fourth path. He wasn’t naive enough to think he’d ever be able to retain full freedom once he returned to Earth. That ship had sailed long before Wovan had ever been created.

  Right now, Arthur was a liability. An up-and-coming mage who would upset the balance of power. Even an idiot would recognise how useful he might prove to be against the onslaught of corruption if given the chance to grow, but for those at the top of the food chain, that usefulness simply wasn’t enough to justify his continued existence.

  Arthur was going to change that, and it started right here, returning to the source of all his problems. Wovan.

  He dropped the three Wyvern cores into his bowl of blood, ensuring that they all touched the liquid at the same time. No mistakes could be made here. For the first time ever, there was absolutely no reaction when the ingredients mixed. Normally, monster cores began dissolving instantly, but it seemed his blood wasn’t potent enough to handle three powerful Wyvern cores simultaneously. Taking a deep breath, Arthur centred himself. This wasn’t beyond his expectations; it had always been a possibility every time he’d created a monster elixir.

  Placing his hands on the Ikea bowl, Arthur channelled a staggering twenty thousand points of ether into his alchemy skill, far more than it had ever handled before. His goal was simple. Arthur supercharged his blood, multiplying the already potent catalyst's power even further. The ominous purple hue of corruption that had taken over his room was pushed away instantly, dissolving into a tar-like substance that his alchemy greedily absorbed.

  By this point, Arthur was certain the entire city was aware of what he was doing. He could sense Maverick and Vira at the periphery of his attention, standing outside his room, observing but ready to break in at a moment's notice. Arthur didn't care. He was too busy trying to keep his alchemy under control, all the while fighting the urge to break out into a fit of laughter.

  The Wyvern cores were dissolving.

  Slowly but surely, the elixir began to form, a concoction that would kill almost anyone who dared to breathe in its noxious fumes. Even Arthur was feeling a little lightheaded, his vision swimming in and out of focus. A perfect result was on the horizon, minutes away from completion.

  Arthur didn't want perfection, though. He was already The Perfect Homunculus. Perfection was no longer enough. He needed something more, something greater. Reaching into his storage ring, Arthur retrieved the only mythical item in his possession, all 27 millimetres of it that had been produced so far.

  Arthur dropped it into his elixir. It was time to weave a miracle into being.

  Links to the audiobooks.

  Etherious: Originator

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