The Developer Reborn As Archmage

Darya fully expected the ship to be anchored in the lagoon after that storm, but she was pleasantly surprised to see they were in the open ocean with no landmass nearby.

I don’t know how Fominel got this thing out of the lagoon by himself. Can someone sail a ship alone?

Her obsession was cool-looking ships. She didn’t know enough about sailing to answer this question.

Fominel wasn’t at the helm. He was in the kitchen cleaning an arm-length fish that he’d caught.

“Princess!” he said, beaming at her as she entered.

“You’re unbelievable, Fominel!” Darya said. “You did everything by yourself again?”

“Oh, that’s not the end of it,” Seris said. “He sneaked into the island while you and I were asleep to find his sword! I already yelled at him for that. Feel free to yell at him again!”

“You went before the storm ended?!” Darya didn’t know if she was angry or impressed. Perhaps both. “You’re a hard man to keep in one place, I see!”

“Apologies, princess!” Fominel said with a sheepish grin. “A warrior must treat his weapons as his children! I didn’t want to leave mine out in the storm.”

Darya rolled her eyes. This was his doctrine of sands or whatever again. Perhaps it was the reason he was assigned to the princess of Karossa. A man like this belonged in a war zone, not babysitting a six-year-old.

Maybe my dear father spent a lot of money to convince him, or he’s bound to me by something else?

She noticed his left arm was covered with bandages when she got closer to him.

“When did you get wounded this bad, Fom?” she asked. She felt uneasy about him working this hard while injured.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Happened last night when I got hit with Sarka’s lightning! That was a surprise!” Fominel laughed, going back to filleting the fish.

Darya stared at him in disbelief. “What?! When did you get hit?!”

Seris groaned. “He’s always like this. He didn’t tell us he got hit with that lightning bolt that wrecked half the weather deck.”

“Huh?!” Darya exclaimed.

“I saw it coming, and I tried to fend it with my manablades. That didn’t work well,” Fominel laughed again.

Darya remembered him carrying her after the fight without a single complaint. He had been injured all that time. “You’re unbelievable!” she said.

“Seriously, Fom, you have to tell me when you get wounded, not hide it like a little kid!” Seris slapped Fominel on the shoulder. “I caught him trying to pour healing potion on the burns,” she added, turning to Darya.

This is a super independent lunatic, trained for war from a very young age.

She had been naturally independent herself for thirty years. She found him somewhat relatable, but her reclusive brand of independence was nothing compared to a man living a warrior doctrine.

“Be careful, Fom!” she warned. “You rushed to meet Sarka on your own as well, and I ended up having to get there before you did!”

Fominel looked at her guiltily.

She didn’t mention how she lost her way trying to get to him because she was busy testing things mid-flight, which was the immediate reason she decided to go for Sarka. She wanted to take the opportunity to make Fominel behave.

There wasn’t a good threat that she could make. She had only gotten to know him recently.

“I'll fire you if you keep risking your life.”

“F-fire me?!” Fominel lost the grip of his knife. “I raised you, princess!”

Hit a spot, huh. Let me try poking more.

“Well, guess who lost all those memories recently?” Darya asked smugly.

“Oh! This must be the first time Fom was ever threatened with firing! Seris laughed, slamming her fist on a table.

“Th-this is a problem!” Fominel said, clearly shaken.

“That’s right! It’s my ship! I'll fire anyone as I please! except this cute wisp baby, of course!” Darya said, pointing at her shoulder where Enta was curled up in a ball.

Can’t fire the hot elf either. Actually, the only one on this ship that I can fire is poor Fominel, and we’ll all be doomed!

Seris and Fominel began fixing a quick supper with lunch dishes for Darya. Her help in the kitchen was limited to cutting or cleaning things. Vainfall’s ingredients were far different from anything she knew.

She noticed a lot of spice being used regardless of what the dish was. They had a large drawer of spice bottles.

The VRMMO was set in an age of exploration and colonization. Spice was a big topic, but it was only part of the lore as a resource to be exploited by various kingdoms. RLP had made them real.

Darya didn’t know much about spices, but a golden powder called ‘Agarmo Dust’ wasn’t one that she had ever seen on Earth. It tasted like MSG on steroids.

They had a bucket full of red jellyfish that were supposed to be deadly. She was curious why they were keeping neurotoxin in the kitchen.

Fominel told her about a recipe for turning jellyfish into glass noodles, and Seris told her about a complex potion that needed the toxin extract.

They took everything to the living room once the dishes were ready.

Darya carefully placed Enta on the table without waking him up. The baby was sleeping to recover one stamina point.

This was her first proper meal in Vainfall. She was scared of the glass noodles at first, but it was delicious with a dash of that hyper MSG mixed in with a bunch of other fresh vegetables and slices of meat for texture.

Seris was stuffing her face with a fried roll that she prepared for herself. Fominel sipped a warm soup while insisting Darya needed to eat the lunch dishes to recover her stamina.

She kept eating the noodles. “So, where are we heading now?” she asked curiously after swallowing a mouthful.

“There’s a ring of fishermen's islands to the south of the archipelago.” Fominel pointed at the map on the wall behind him. “If we need a Seer, we need to hide the ship in one of those. I have an old contact.”

“Wait, before we go for a Seer, shouldn’t we try asking Sarka where he warped instead?” Darya asked, narrowing her eyes. “Where’s the ring?”

“Right here,” Fominel said, patting his pocket. “I already asked him, but he didn’t tell me much.”

“Can I talk with him?” Darya asked.

“I can’t let you wear the ring, princess. We’re not done checking it for curses,” Fominel said, digging into his pocket.

“Let Fom wear it until I finish checking it,” Seris said.

“Why? If I can be cursed, he can be cursed!”

“But only one of us is the princess,” Seris said curtly.

Fair enough. I’ll have to wear the ring later.

Fominel put it on his left index finger. It had been thoroughly cleaned of Dreagan stuff and polished to a shiny finish. The ring was made of silver and gold. Unlike a typical mix of metals, this was a strange alloy that looked like a paint dip. Some kind of magic had been involved in creating this intricate texture.

It had carvings along those chaotic gold and silver features depicting scaly serpents with fine detail. Some of the swirls had tiny water-blue gems buried at the center.

The polished soulstone mounted on it was about an inch across. It was held in place by hooks styled like skeleton fingers. A black mass of weightless vapor swirled inside like soot. The movements of the vapor clouds grew faster as the soulstone started glowing purple from the center.

“I awake yet again!” Sarka’s deep cordial voice came from the ring. “Swordsman, you interrupted our last conversation rather rudely. I expected better manners from a son of the Karossan sands!”

Fominel cleared his throat. “I was looking for my sword back then. Anyways, my princess wishes to talk with you,” he said, sliding his hand across the table towards Darya.

“Ah, the princess. That must be the fair lady who rescued me yesterday. I only wish I had eyes to see!”

“Hello, Sarka,” Darya said, dabbing her lip with a serviette as she swallowed all the noodles in her mouth.

“There she is!” Sarka said enthusiastically. “Greetings, princess of Karossa. I don’t believe you introduced yourself to me yet.”

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Darya Altazark,” she said flatly.

“Ah, yes, an Altazark. I was briefly in Karossa during an expedition a long time ago. The rulers were Rozarks back then. My visit was brief and unpleasant to say the least.”

Fominel frowned at the ring. He did seem to agree with what was said. Darya decided to ignore this Rozark part. She had no interest in Karossa’s history just yet.

“As you may already know, I need to know where your corpse warped off to. Two of my crew have been taken there. I wonder if you can tell me where they might be so we don’t have to waste time on finding a Seer.”

“Humblest apologies, princess, I’ve already discussed this with the swordsman. There is nothing of use that I could tell him.”

“Try me. You were on your corpse’s finger the whole time. Surely there must be something we can do here.”

“The main problem is I couldn’t see through the soulstone. This ring can use the wearer’s senses through mana transference, but the Dreagan corpse had odd senses. It wasn’t meant for human comprehension. The closest it ever got was hearing.”

“Wait,” Darya narrowed her eyes. “You said you wish you could see me. Shouldn’t you be able to see through Fominel? You’re on a living person’s finger now, aren’t you?”

“Ah, well that’s blocked—”

Seris interrupted, raising her hand.

“I dunked the ring in an oily potion for our protection. It must be interfering with mana transference. It’ll wear off in a while.”

“I see. Interesting,” Darya said curtly. “Back to the topic,” she turned to Sarka. “You disappeared for a hundred and twenty years, if I remember right. Were you awake that whole time?”

“No. I was awake only for brief moments. Dreagan's flesh is only energized with mana when the corpse needs to be deployed. I was let out only seven times since my death. You’re concerned about the warping location. This is something I noticed as well. My corpse keeps using my best warping spell whenever it gets stuck.”

“It’s a malfunction in behavior?” Darya asked.

“I assume so, yes. Eventually, I started to notice a pattern in the destination of these warps. It was always eerily quiet, windy, and desolate. I can’t prove it, but I felt the presence of other Dreagans there.”

“Hm. Doesn’t narrow it down much,” Darya said, looking at the map. “Are you sure this is not somewhere that you lived when you were alive?”

“I lived in Goliante as the third seat of the council. Before that, I grew up in the White Grove. I don’t think either of those is Dreagan-infested.”

“Goliante still stands strong,” Fominel said. “It’ll be the end of the world if that place falls.”

Goliante was the northern capital of magic, a city built into a gray mountain with a great library at its core. She had worked on some arcane spells that players could learn if they spent enough time grinding in the dungeons beneath the mountain.

“White Grove hasn’t been lost either. I’d have heard if Dreagans were that far up north. It’s near Rhakali,” Seris said.

“I’m curious. How did you die, Sarka?” Darya asked bluntly. “Did you ever figure out what these Dreagans really are?”