Solo Strategy

My boat ride with Arien stretched on for nearly two hours. And no, we didn't discuss guild management or touch on development and future plans. So, what did we do all that time? We just chatted. About everything and nothing. As if we weren't in another world but had indeed just met, and our little boat was drifting on some park pond in an ordinary earth metropolis.

It could have been taken for a date between two young people meeting for the first time—if not for the words the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic said as our boat neared the guild pier.

"It's been a long time since I relaxed like this." Setting the oars aside, Arien let the boat drift on inertia. "Thank you. For a while, I forgot about everything around us. The new world, the trials, the problems with the Great Guilds, the difficulties within my guild, the preparation for the ritual, these... what do you call them, questers—all of it seemed to fade into the background." She leaned her whole body towards me. "I like you. Both as a person and as a man." Her unexpected frankness momentarily left me at a loss as to how to respond. "Maybe if we had met on Earth, things might've gone very differently."

Pulling back, my ex straightened her posture, stretched, raising her arms up, and, as it seemed to me, with a slight sadness in her voice, added:

"But we can't be together. As a man and a woman. Not here and not now. Especially since we are both natural leaders, and all my life experience tells me that in a strong relationship, there must be a division of roles. Leader and follower. We are both used to commanding, and very soon, our relationship would devolve into constant conflict."

She had a point. I distinctly remembered how, in the Last Cycle, Arien ended up together with Nate. Their relationship, indeed, couldn't be called calm. Constant yelling, arguments over trivial matters, almost turning into real battles. Such things were unchanging companions of this pair. Nevertheless, no matter how much they fought, they always got back together. Honestly, I wouldn't be able to endure such a relationship for long, so I nodded in full agreement.

"I like you too, as a woman and as a person of many talents," I managed to say. "Nevertheless, I completely agree with you."

"Thanks for not arguing," the brilliant sorceress said, half-closing her eyes. "Friends?"

"Comrades," I corrected her.

"You don't trust me enough to call me a friend?" There was no irritation or reproach in her voice, just a hint of curiosity.

"Young lady!" I smiled broadly. "We've known each other for less than two hours. What kind of friendship is that?" Then I added more quietly and earnestly, "Unless it's through the bed."

"Friends with benefits," Arien laughed playfully. "I'm familiar with that social experience. And... sorry, I don't intend to repeat it, so we'll abstain from the bed." For a moment, it seemed these words were harder for her to say than she wanted to show. "Especially since, as a lover, you were beyond praise." Of course, I knew her body better than she did. "And I have too many plans to afford distractions… Yes, distractions."

Running my fingers through my disheveled hair, I found what I was looking for and, hiding it in my fist, leaned forward, closing the distance between us to an arm's length.

"Since you've decided to forget for a while that we just met..."

I liked the laughter sparkling in her eyes; I was literally drowning in that green depth. Managing to steel my will, I continued:

"You didn't listen to my arguments, and during the Redistribution ritual, you took part of the Talent from Mental Magic to strengthen one of the Elements, did you?"

"So, you're sure I didn't listen to you and did it my way?"

"Intuition tells me so."

Or, more precisely, it was my experience from our interactions with her in the Last Cycle, but I preferred to withhold such a straightforward response.

"And it didn't fail you," Arien said, spreading her arms in mock repentance.

Clasping my hands, I leaned even closer.

"Will you accept a gift from me?" I asked, shaking my palms.

"Your hairpin?"

She clearly noticed my manipulations, so it wasn't much of a surprise. I opened my palms, showing she was right. In my left hand lay the "Chime of Pure Mind" brooch. After the ritual at the Temple of Ishid, I no longer needed this artifact, which warned of attempts to influence its wearer with mental magic.

"The emerald in this piece perfectly matches the color of your eyes," I played my trump card.

"A young lady shouldn't accept gifts from men she's known for only a couple of hours," Arien scoffed, immediately doing the opposite of what she said.

Her hand, like a predatory fish, darted to mine. In an instant, she leaned over the water, catching her reflection, figuring out where to attach the brooch. Admiring the result, Arien, without lifting her head from the lake's surface, cheerfully said:

"You're right, it really suits me."

She rearranged her hair and secured the new style with the brooch. Then she straightened up and said in a serious tone:

"But this isn't just an ornament." It was a statement, not a question.

"Correct," I didn't argue. "An artifact blessed by Ishia. Not unique, quite ordinary, but very useful." The future goddess of Spontaneous Magic didn't interrupt, carefully catching every word. "It's called 'Chime of Pure Mind.' It doesn't protect against anything. Its benefit is that it warns its owner of mental influence directed at them. Just warns, like little bells ringing in your head, hence the name. Some might think a warning is a trifle, but..." I paused meaningfully, looking into my former beloved's eyes.

"Alright, I accept your gift. And I forgive you for rummaging through my papers without my permission."

"What papers?" I theatrically widened my eyes, as if immensely surprised. "Young lady, we just met!"

"Yeah, yeah, how could I forget."

On the shore, others had long noticed our approach but diligently pretended not to see us. As soon as the boat's side touched the wooden dock, Arien sprang from her seat, grabbed the mooring rope, and leaped onto the pier. With a confident motion, she secured the rope, tying it with a variation of a sailor's knot, and, striking a comical pose of waiting, looked at me with a smirk. Of course, I could easily repeat her leap from the boat, but I deliberately did it awkwardly—as if I might topple overboard at any moment. Yes, we wouldn't be together as a man and woman, but it was still pleasant to see her smile, even if it was caused by something as silly as my feigned clumsiness.

"Pull yourself together," Arien chuckled. "Until sunset, you're still the guild's strategist."

Yes, today, as per our agreement, I would leave Katiyer. And if, before the conversation during the boat ride, I was even glad about it, now I caught myself thinking that I would have gladly stayed here a while longer. But, firstly, a deal is a deal, and secondly, I had many other matters that no one but me could handle.

"Have you decided who you'll appoint as the strategist?" I had raised this question several times over the last couple of days, but she always brushed off giving a direct answer.

"I'll decide tomorrow," the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic replied carefreely.

"Your guild, your rules." I didn't argue, just shrugged.

I wasn't too concerned about whom she would appoint, as all the candidates had their merits. What worried me more was that she might not trust anyone with the position and would take on those duties herself, as she did before I arrived. However, my ex was a sensible "girl" and seemed to have already appreciated the benefits of having someone specifically appointed to handle daily tasks, especially military drills. Besides, this gave her time to tackle more global issues.

"Right on schedule," Arien smiled, glancing over my shoulder.

Turning around, I saw the barge we had rented leisurely emerging from behind the islet with the ruins of the old tower, which I had destroyed with a Fire Tornado during Arien's exam. We had hired this shabby-looking vessel three days ago specifically to transport Magevra's silent altar.

Clearly, Arien and I had spent quite a while chatting during our boat outing, if Geophon and his team had not only managed to load the altar but also deliver it to Brunge's estate. Obeying Felicia's confident commands, the barge slowly turned and headed toward the cargo dock.

"Do you want to supervise the unloading?" Arien asked, noticing my movement in that direction.

"I know Geophon and Felicia can handle such a simple task without me," I explained, "but as we say back home, 'better safe than sorry.' Malachite is quite a fragile stone, so I'd better keep an eye on it."

"And here I remember someone who long and persistently argued with me that I should trust my people more and not interfere in every little thing."

She caught me there.

I weighed the pros and cons for a few seconds and decided that, in this case, she was right. Stopping, I looked at Arien with a mischievous smirk:

"Well, well, turns out you did listen to me sometimes. I used to feel I was talking to a wall."

Of course, that was an exaggeration, but at times, it did feel like she was simply ignoring my arguments.

"A wall?" Arien squinted. Then, without taking her eyes off me, she ran her hand over her figure and slyly said, "Are you calling me flat?"

What the...?! How do women manage to find completely different meanings in the most innocent phrases?! And it would have been one thing if Miranda had responded like that—I would have expected it from her. But Arien?!! I was stunned, not knowing what to say.

"You really don't know how to talk to women," the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic concluded with a kind smile.

Circling around me in a wide arc, she stopped a step away and laughed with feigned sadness.

"Here's a tip as a friend—or rather, as a comrade: learn to compliment girls. And don't call them walls. Or you'll end up a lonely crow."

Having said that, she waved her hand at me and, striding gracefully like a runway model, headed off toward Brunge, who had just come out onto the porch and was watching us with unabashed curiosity.

Every single time I began to delude myself into thinking I might finally grasp how Arien's mind worked, she'd casually, playfully, effortlessly shatter all my illusions.

With difficulty, I tore my gaze away from her retreating figure, jumped off the boat dock, and, turning to the lake, leaned on my spear.

Guided by two Water mages, the unsightly multi-ton barge slowed down and, approaching the cargo pier, docked so gently it seemed to weigh no more than a feather. As soon as the mooring knots were tightened, Felicia deftly jumped onto the wooden planks. Then, after exchanging a few words with Geophon, Arien's right hand in this Cycle gave the signal—the Earth mages began preparing to unload the altar.

If not for magic, transporting the altar Arien had found from the ruined temple to this lakeshore without special equipment would have been quite a complex engineering task. Not only did the smooth stone cube, with sides the length of an adult man's broad stride, weigh no less than three and a half tons, but the malachite it was made from wasn't particularly durable. One awkward move, a random hit—and the stone, bereft of divine support, would, at best, be covered with a network of cracks, and at worst, simply split into pieces.

Geophon and his team were well aware of such details. Four Earth mages stood by the cube—each by his own face—and placed their palms carefully on the shimmering green surface. From the distance separating me from the unloading area, even with my Perception Aura activated, I didn't feel the slightest trace of magic. Yet, magic was clearly applied, and I even knew which kind.

One of the first spells Earth mages learned was the elementary "Heaviness." Its essence was to temporarily increase the weight of an object the caster's hands touch. This was mainly used to enhance a staff strike. The spell itself was simple—available at just two Talent Stars and used here in Ain for generations in its unchanged form. After all, why change what has reliably worked for centuries and proven itself?

However, Arien was not one to be content with templates. It took her just one day to create "Lightness" based on "Heaviness." As the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic later explained, she simply changed the sign in the formula from plus to minus. Though "simply" here should be in quotes: to implement such an inversion, she had to rethink the very basics of Earth magic, relying not on local tradition but on earthly knowledge of gravity, mass, and the physics of interactions.

It was this experimental spell that Geophon's subordinates were about to use. In training, they had already "lightened" a five-ton granite block to a manageable five hundred kilograms. Now, as each mage put their palms on the malachite surface, six warriors of Steel and Wootz, having placed steel beams under the cube, began to carefully lift it. Trying to move in sync, they carried the lightened altar to the main unloading platform.

The main difficulty of the procedure was that if even one of the mages broke contact with the stone for any reason, the weight of the altar would immediately revert to its original state. Of course, the six fighters—masters of the upper tiers of the Metal Coil—enhanced themselves with the "Bull's Strength" spell, temporarily increasing their physical power. This gave them a chance to hold the weight... but only for a few seconds. No more.

I was so tempted to step in and start commanding the unloading myself. And I would have done so if not for Arien's words. But, due to what the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic had said, I stayed put, barely refraining from biting my lip in tension, and watched the process from the sidelines.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

My focused observation was interrupted by Brunge's emotional exclamations. Turning around, I noticed how the giantess, next to whom Arien looked like a mere reed, was waving her arms like a windmill, clearly pointing at the altar. The estate mistress's surprise was truly sincere. Like any other local, she remembered the legend of the lost altar of Magevra well and immediately recognized the malachite cube. Judging by her reaction, the woman was in shock. Her behavior unmistakably showed that Arien's preparations had hit the mark, and none of the locals had the slightest idea of what we had really been up to that night.

Despite her appearance—Brunge looked like her mother had sinned with a swamp troll—the estate mistress was quite smart and observant. If even she couldn't see through our preparations, then ordinary spies from the Great Guilds or the local sheriff's office would certainly be fooled by Arien's plan to conceal our true actions.

My ex tried to calm Brunge, but she roared loud enough for the entire estate to hear, "That can't be!!" and, with each stride covering three meters, rushed to the cargo pier.

Catching my gaze, Arien winked, clearly indicating that everything happening was part of her plan.

Brunge's excitement was entirely understandable. For her, this malachite cube was not just a stone but akin to a sacred relic from a local legend. Rushing to the Geophon's team's side, the estate mistress waited until the cargo was lowered to the ground, and then, receiving permission, slowly approached. Coming to a stop directly in front of the altar, Brunge knelt and, with evident reverence, touched its smooth surface with her fingertips.

Approaching leisurely, I stopped two steps behind Brunge and gestured to the Geophon's team not to interfere.

For about two minutes, we all curiously watched Brunge's actions as her palms slid over the altar's smooth malachite surface. To us earthlings, it was just a piece of rock. But to the locals, it was a true Altar, albeit a silent one. Thanks to my lectures, the members of the Ainuminati already understood this difference, and no one dared to disturb the estate mistress.

Lifting her hands from the altar, Brunge slowly turned around:

"It's silent..." Tears welled in her eyes.

"Silent," I nodded.

Rising to her full height, she loomed over me like a mountain. I wasn't a small man, but next to Brunge, I felt like a boy. We were on the same coil of the Great Spiral now, but if she decided to strike, I wasn't sure I'd withstand it. At times, I started to genuinely suspect there were swamp trolls in her ancestry. She was just too strong. In my opinion, even without magic, Brunge could lift this altar by herself. Pausing for a moment, the giantess placed her hand on my shoulder and said:

"Thank you for finding our sacred relic."

The touch of her palm made me feel like I would sink into the ground if she pressed even a little. Trying to smile as openly as possible, I replied:

"You should thank her, not me," I nodded, pointing toward Arien as she approached.

In response, Brunge removed her hand from my shoulder and bowed deeply to the head of the Ainuminati. She remained in this gesture of boundless respect until the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic reached her and, hugging her shoulders, gently asked her to stand up.

"No need for that, my dear friend," Arien said, shaking her head. "I only promised to try to find Magevra's altar. I didn't even believe it was possible... but, as you can see, we succeeded."

She lied as easily as breathing. However, even I, knowing her far better than the estate mistress, wouldn't have recognized the deceit if I hadn't already known the truth.

"I'm going to the magistrate right now," Brunge said, clearly unable to contain herself, "and I will insist that the city buys the sacred relic from your Guild!" Shaking her head, she added, "We will pay good money!"

Arien froze at this statement, then looked me intently in the eyes. We had discussed this possibility just yesterday. The brilliant sorceress wanted to hand the silent altar over to the Artifactors' Guild, while I insisted it be given to the priests of the Pantheon.

For us earthlings, this altar was useless: unlike the other gods of Ain, Magevra had no Echo, and all prayers, even those offered at the True Altar, would remain unanswered. But for the locals, it was primarily a relic lost many centuries ago. Moreover, I insisted that the transfer be free of charge. Such a step might have seemed foolish to some, but I knew for certain that reputation among the priests of the Pantheon would prove far more valuable to the Guild in the future than any amount of money.

Yesterday, I thought my arguments had convinced her... but I couldn't help noticing how the corners of the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic's lips tensed when Brunge mentioned payment. At that moment, Arien was battling greed, and even I couldn't predict what would ultimately prevail: avarice or the work for the future.

"Brunge," she said, embracing the one she had just called a friend, which looked quite comical given their difference in height and weight. Arien, clearly struggling with herself and giving me an irritated look, continued, "Oh, come on... what money? Returning the lost altar to the people is reward enough. Tell the magistrate that tomorrow, at the first rays of sun, we will bring the sacred relic into the Temple of Katiyer."

"I... I..."

The estate mistress was clearly taken aback by such a response, and a hint of reverence flickered in her eyes as she looked at Arien—the kind of look believers might give to saints.

"Come now, let me escort you." Gently pushing the giantess, the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic tried to steer her away from the altar. "Let's not get in Geophon and Felicia's way during the transport. If we keep getting under their feet, they might drop it..."

"Drop it?!!"

Oh, she shouldn't have said that. Brunge immediately straightened up to her full height and, pushing four fighters away from the malachite cube, grabbed the steel beams herself.

"It won't be dropped with me around!" she said with evident relief, flexing her mighty shoulders.

"Geophon, take command," I had to intervene since the earthlings were slightly dazed by such "help" and got confused. "Give Brunge a position; on Sapphire, she can easily replace our four fighters of Steel and Wootz."

After shooting at the estate mistress another glance—this time with much more respect—Geophon began giving orders.

"I'll supervise," Arien nodded to me as the peculiar procession carrying the altar passed us by. "Meanwhile, I think Ignis was looking for you. At least, he's peeked out of the final processing workshop more than once."

"Are you sure you don't need my help with Brunge?" I clarified just in case.

"Oh, she's my friend. Surely we can find common ground," Arien winked.

Mentally, I immediately enclosed her "friend" in clear quotation marks.

I allowed myself a few seconds to enjoy the sight of my ex scurrying beside the giantess, telling her something. Damn, what kept drawing me to Arien so much? Yes, she was attractive—but Miranda was objectively even more beautiful. Yes, she was smart—but at the same time, cynical, hot-tempered, and cruel. Besides, I clearly remembered our breakup in the Last Cycle and wouldn't lose my head again like a naive, inexperienced boy. All true, yet it was still hard to look at her calmly.

Shaking my head vigorously, I added a light tap on my left pinky toe with the spear shaft to clear my mind... It helped, chasing away the burgeoning obsessive thoughts like "Should we try again?.."

No relationships, no love! Period. Casual flings, fleeting lovers—and nothing more.

Such behavior, of course, wasn't in my nature—I wasn't a big fan of one-night stands, but one shouldn't neglect health. Besides, intimacy had always been one of the most reliable ways to establish rapport with a person of the opposite sex. This, too, couldn't be disregarded.

What was wrong with me? Whenever I saw Arien, thoughts about sex would flood my mind! I lowered the shaft on my left pinky again and, pressing my lips tightly, headed to the final assembly workshop.

I hadn't covered even half the distance from the cargo pier to the large shed housing the workshop I was interested in when its gates opened slightly, and a young man peeked out. He was slightly above average height, with an open gaze of gray eyes and palms clearly accustomed to hard labor.

On Earth, Ignis worked as a milling machinist, and in his free time, he helped a local historical fencing team create armor. At first, I thought he was a fellow countryman, but it turned out he was from Argentina. I never would have guessed that there were historical fencing fans in South America. Ignis even knew how to forge—not at Katashi's level, of course, but he knew the basics. In the guild register, he was listed as the chief blacksmith of Ainuminati.

Ignis had declined to participate in the Redistribution ritual himself. He had three Stars in each of the Elemental Magic Talents and wanted to maintain his "versatility," as he put it. Three days ago, I tried to convince him that for a blacksmith, Fire and Earth were more important than, say, Water and Wind. However, he countered with his own reasons, and ultimately, he didn't agree with me.

Noticing my approach, Ignis waved his arms excitedly, inviting me closer. In response, I gave a brief gesture to show that I saw him and would come over.

I thought he was just curious about how the ritual went, but it turned out he was looking for me for a completely different reason. As soon as I got close, the blacksmith swung the gates open wider, stepped aside, and gestured for me to enter the workshop.

"Raven, either I'm absolutely dense... or you can't draw," Ignis puffed out without any "hello" or "hi" as soon as I walked in.

Before responding, I looked around the room. Besides us, there were five more people inside—three men and two women. This group of Ainuminati recruits had volunteered to help Ignis yesterday. Now, each of them was busy with their own task: some were joining plates, others filing metal, and the rest were working on general assembly.

"What's the problem?" I nodded and turned to the blacksmith.

"Here!" Ignis pulled out a sheet of paper from his belt pouch—my own notes—and, unfolding it, pointed to the center. "Either I'm an idiot, or the wire needs to go in the opposite direction here."

"Good job. My mistake," I agreed, taking a closer look at the design. "Yes, it's reversed."

"Pf-f-f…" Ignis shook his head disapprovingly, looking at me. "An hour wasted."

Of course, the moment I appeared at the guild's quarters a week ago, my armor immediately drew attention. Even Arien approached with questions like "Who made such a thing?" and "Is it possible to get the designs anywhere or order such armor?"

Imagine the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic's surprise when she learned it was a joint project between me and a blacksmith named Katashi—an earthling like us. Moreover, I not only agreed to provide the designs for both the armor and the gambeson, but also disassembled and reassembled the armor in front of Ignis. Then, in my free time from guild strategist duties, I created more detailed diagrams… and, apparently, it was in these that a pesky little error crept in, tripping up Ignis at the final assembly stage.

Four days ago, Arien placed a large order with local craftsmen on behalf of the guild. No, she didn't hand over my designs to outsiders—on the contrary, she utilized earth's experience in distributed labor. Five specialists, all at least at the Steel Step, were tasked with making the large scales, similar to the fragments of my armor. Another three wove chainmail fabric according to the provided patterns. Two Bronzes were drawing wire of the required diameter. A couple of Wootz craftsmen handled the details for the pauldrons and plate skirts. The most experienced, an Opal Rank master from Katiyer, received the order for helmets. At the same time, the best tailors in town worked on the gambesons using my patterns.

Such fragmentation of tasks wasn't intended to preserve secrecy; rather, it was designed to accelerate production by dividing labor and having the guild perform the final assembly. This approach allowed the armor to be made almost five times faster.

The first armor fragments started arriving the evening before, when Arien and I were preparing for the ritual. Ignis and I had agreed that we would handle the assembly later—after my return... but, apparently, he couldn't sit still. As soon as most of the guild headed off by boat to the ruined temple of Magevra, he got to work, enlisting volunteers to help.

Recalling the look Arien gave me when she finally agreed to donate the found altar to the city for free, I smiled broadly at Ignis, sat on a free bench, and began assembling the armor, commenting on each of my movements.

Honestly, at that moment, I had little desire to cross paths with my ex... at least until she had a chance to come to terms with the loss of potential profit.

Some might have said that hiding from a woman was cowardly. But first, such a person clearly hadn't met Arien, and second, I wasn't hiding at all; I was busy with an extremely important task. And third, she knew perfectly well where to find me. If she really needed to, she would just come to the final assembly workshop.