Beastforged Bond

Bert had sacrificed a lot for me. He had submitted his research pre-emptively to receive his Master Beaster certification, using his newly acquired authority to make me his apprentice before the Council could assign me to the Strikers, or worse.

Alas, he had to provide the military with goods to aid the war against humanity’s enemies. His quota hadn’t been too bad, nor had the payment, but the quota increased rather steeply as he insisted on keeping me as his apprentice. As it turned out, the Council valued my strength highly enough to squeeze a lot out of Beaster Bert.

At least, they didn’t force me to join the Strikers.

Merlin’s warning still rang in my head: the Ruler of Fire was with the Strikers, his temper worse than ever. After losing his arm for breaking the Pact with the Spirits and other races, he had been punished. He was lucky to survive, and even that was only because he failed to bind the Elemental Phoenix.

I doubted the Ruler of Fire, Raffael Torch, would stop searching for the phoenix. Permanently losing one arm was severely limiting, but as far as I was concerned, the loss only churned the blazing desire within the Ruler’s heart.

One way or another, I’d been lucky. Merlin had yet to betray me, I wasn’t assigned too close to anyone with the means to find out about Volix, and I could officially start learning more about Beasters and serums.

Alchemy as well. I shall make sure you surpass those fraudulent greenhorns.

Volix announced, sounding as annoyed as always whenever I thought about becoming a Beaster. He was an even worse nuisance when I praised Beasters, which was not exactly a rare occasion. But Beasters were amazing. What was I supposed to do? Lie to myself?

I shook my head, discarding the images of exotic pills, mighty elixirs, quirky tinctures, and all the other extraordinary things I could create as an Alchemist.

Stop that. You know apprenticing under Beaster Bert is a good opportunity!

Not only could I learn the Beasters’ workflow, learning from Bert would also be the best excuse to explain most of the things Volix was going to teach me as well – knowledge, recipes, and alchemy-based techniques created by the phoenix himself or learned from other races.

If someone asked questions about my methods in the future, I could always say a Master Beaster had taught me. Then there was another crucial part. The Elemental Phoenix hadn’t performed alchemy for a few centuries. He didn’t know how Beasters worked either. It would be a great experience for Volix as well.

I might even be able to help Bert. If Alchemy was as superior as the Elemental Phoenix made it out to be, I would be more than happy to share some with him, especially after he had helped me so much. I only needed to be careful about how many crumbs of wisdom I could share without attracting too much attention.

But that was a whole different issue.

First things first, I had to learn. Then I could thank Bert for all he had done. After all, his quota was rather steep thanks to me.

He had been given a list of serums and potions to produce, and while he could decide which ones to make, he had to provide the military with dozens of serums every week.

“You worry a lot, Adam,” Bert mused, looking up from his watch’s screens.

“I think a lot,” I corrected my teacher, though it was probably better to say that I did both think and worry too much.

“Is that so?” The Master Beaster snickered, and the corner of his lips curled. “I am sure you will do well. Even if you don’t, your sacred flame will be more than enough to make up for the trouble you’ll be causing me.”

Not much was known about sacred flames, but their fire was highly purifying. Luckily, phoenix fire was just as potent, if not better. But merely helping Bert with phoenix fire was not enough. I wanted to be more than an assistant focused on ridding ingredients of impurities.

“Did you already get your schedule? Mine is way too packed.” Daniel skidded around the table to sit down beside me. “I have no idea what that old man is thinking, but he’s clearly lost his reasoning. Does he think I have nothing better to do than learn from him?” Soft curses escaped his lips as his head slumped down on the table. “Dude, how am I supposed to survive spending seventy hours a week with that monster? That’s just way too much! When am I supposed to refine my World, train, tend to Coco and Filps, and temper my body?!”

As I listened to my friend, worries resurfaced. I took a moment to take a deep breath, but I checked the most recent notification on my watch anyway.

“Two hours with the Wardens every day and thirty hours in the Beast Temple.” That wasn’t too bad. If the training regimen with the Wardens was tough enough, it would be perfect. “That’s odd. I can pick my working hours in the Beast Temple freely. All I need is to… what’s that nonsense? There’s a quota for the Beast Temple as well?”

The official note included a complicated formula depicting how many points I would receive for connecting Blessed with highly compatible beasts, or for resolving discord between Blessed and Soulkin, depending on the case’s severity. Even worse were the points I was promised for my “patients’” success in war. For every milestone they achieved thanks to me, points would be rewarded.

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It was efficient, and it inevitably pushed me to work hard to create efficient combatants, since most points could be earned through the war achievements of the Blessed I helped. Second to that were bond milestones. For every bond that reached the first and second Stage, I would receive a small fortune in points, which could then be used to fill my quota or exchanged for other rewards.

As efficient as the system was, I felt disgusted. Neither the Blessed nor the beasts in the temple were considered valuable according to the Council. All they cared for were results. That would have been fine, if not for the war achievement section earning three times more points than the most valuable milestones.

“You have a quota as well?” Bert asked.

Daniel, too, looked up with interest.

“Looks like it.” I let out a heavy sigh. “I can act as a Hunter and capture beasts for the Beast Temple to earn points, or I can act as a counselor. Every case is different, but from the looks of it, I need to place two dozen Awakened beasts with compatible Blessed. Even the compatibility rating is predetermined. If it’s too low, or if problems occur up to four weeks after the bond is established, my points will be deducted and I’ll have to make up for them.” I let out a mirthless laugh. “Or I can find a new home for half a dozen Evolved beasts. I don’t know if the Beast Temple here has Unblemished beasts, but I could make a soldier bind one.”

The worst part was that the Blessed still had to pay for everything. That included the soldiers as well, which didn’t make my job any easier. The Beast Temple was anything but cheap. It had powerful beasts to bind as long as you had a suitable World to offer, yet their pricing was… problematic. Even if the Council were to pay its soldiers well to prepare them for the upcoming fights, it would take a while to amass enough credits to afford an Evolved beast.

That was mostly reserved for high-ranked personnel.

“Sounds troublesome,” Daniel said, sounding like he understood everything I’d just said, even though he looked like he had no idea what my problem actually was.

Turning back to Bert, and ignoring my friend before the urge to punch him in the face surfaced, I smiled faintly. “Apparently, I’ll be rewarded for all Soulkins that either surpass their racial limit by a Rank or evolve. As long as I place them in the Blessed’s care, part of their achievements will belong to me.”

“They applied a cashback system to incentivize you to go above and beyond to ensure the Soulkins you rehome are–” Peter Zerog spoke up but stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing. “These fuckers. The Council is probably hoping you’ll help the Blessed with serums after you’ve helped them find suitable Soulkins. Depending on the amount of points you’ll receive from the achievements’ cashback, it might be worth it, but that’s fucked up either way.”

It was the first time I’d heard Peter curse like that, and it looked like his wife and children were just as surprised. However, nobody refuted his words. Even Lea’s snarky remarks died down.

“I’ll manage somehow. In the worst case, I’ll have to work overtime for the Beast Temple in the first few weeks, or however long it takes to come up with a proper system to exploit the Council.” I tried to smile, but it slipped from my face.

Who was I kidding: this was going to be a lot more troublesome than I’d planned for.

In the worst case, I give a few Wardens a helping hand, I thought to myself. The onyx ring was no longer filled to the brim, but almost every item within it was invaluable. Surely, selling a piece of Kazriel’s armor would be enough to pay for a shopping trip to the Beast Temple. Help my unit bind new Soulkins and such.

Only if they’re nice. We do not help jerks!

Aureus declared, loud enough to echo through my head.

You will still play into the Council’s cards that way.

Volix reminded me once Aureus’ echo faded.

I knew that too, but if I could help a few more Blessed live to see the next day, it would be worth it.

As long as they’re nice.

The Earthheart repeated.

Yes. As long as they’re nice, we can help them. We don’t want to help bad people, I responded, smiling faintly.

Helping the defenders from the backlines would be great. It might not earn many points toward filling my quota, but the investment would be worth it in the long run. At some point, I’d only have to sit idle in the Beast Temple for thirty hours every week and then leave. While that wasn’t my plan, knowing it was possible to relax a little in the future was good enough.

Maybe… maybe I could help a few less fortunate people as well. The unBlessed. After living with my parents in the ninth sector for most of my life, I should know what it was like to be one of them. Until two years ago, I had been normal. Too weak to survive outside the Bastion for more than twenty-four hours. Even the main sector’s ether density would have killed me sooner or later.

That was no longer the case, but I should never have forgotten about my past. As painful as it had been, being at the bottom of the hierarchy had been a defining factor in my life. The last two years had been blessed with ridiculous fortune. It was as if my life were overflowing with the luck of a lifetime, yet I also knew that luck was not the only factor. I had only lived this long because I worked hard. Because I never gave up.

If I hadn’t refined my World for years from a young age, I would never have been able to bind Aureus when he was still a tiny, muddy egg. But that was beyond the point. The fact was that I’d been lucky – that my father had been fortunate enough to find Aureus and survive carrying him back from the Oridon Mountains.

Not everyone had such a suicidal father. A father who loved his son enough to risk his life.

I was blessed in more than one way, and it only felt fair to return some of that fortune.

How annoyed would the Council be if I helped a few hundred unBlessed claim their first Soulkin during work hours? I asked my Soulkins, who enjoyed the image forming in my mind just as much as I did.

They felt the same urge: to slap the Council square in the face. Of course they did. They were part of me, just as I was part of them.

We were one big family, and we took a certain pleasure in watching bullies get beaten to a pulp. Even more so when we were the ones throwing the punches.