Solo Strategy

In the spacious shed, which the guild members had grandly named the "final assembly shop," I spent about four hours. Of course, not all of that time was devoted to working on the armor—people regularly interrupted me. At least every twenty minutes, someone would pop in with a question or a clarification about old orders. Nevertheless, Ignis and I steadily made progress. The work sped up even more when, two hours after my return to the camp, Clement stepped into the workshop.

Thanks to the memory of the future, I knew this swordsman had great potential. After all, Nate didn't elevate just anyone to the rank of personal guard. Besides, as a warrior, he was stronger than the "past version" of me—at least when it came to a fair duel. It was he whom I had singled out among the fighters of the Ainuminati from the start and persistently promoted to the position I now temporarily held. Hopefully, Arien would heed my advice rather than give the strategist position to Felicia.

No, Felicia was talented as well, but she was a schemer, not a military leader. Besides, Arien herself could outplay anyone in the art of behind-the-scenes machinations, and in my opinion, Clement—being straightforward and demonstratively honest—would perfectly balance the guild's command structure.

And let's not forget: he was the only earthling I knew, besides myself, who had gained Affinity with Light in this Cycle. From personal experience, I'd realized already that this Affinity significantly influenced one's personality. For instance, Clement's character was well illustrated by the fact that he'd volunteered to be the first to have the new armor fitted to him. I definitely wouldn't have taken on the "first series" model: they usually have the biggest number of errors and flaws. But Nate's former guard insisted, explaining that he wanted to personally experience all the shortcomings to help the others accustom themselves to the new gear later.

The entire budget allocated by Arien for rearming the guild's military personnel was just enough for exactly a dozen full sets. This, of course, was insufficient to meet all the needs of the Ainuminati, but the recruits could wait. My ex initially even wanted to limit it to a trial batch of five units. However, when it turned out that the cost for twelve sets was only fifty percent higher than for five, she— albeit reluctantly—agreed.

What made working with the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic easy and pleasant was the financial success of her guild. Thanks to her incredible charisma and, admittedly, unique skill in intrigue, most of Arien's innovations were not only accepted by the local population but also brought in steady profits. Just the paper workshops alone, of which there were already five along the banks of Ilomen, provided the guild with over a thousand gold in net income per month. The production of wheeled plows she'd transferred to the Artifactors' Guild, in exchange for a moderate share of profits, added two hundred more. The manufacturing of a new type of fertilizer, organized by the future goddess in partnership with the Alchemists' Guild, brought in about the same amount. On top of that, a unique dye created by Arien using local ingredients was so well-received by the Pantheon priests that the dye workshop operated in three shifts, and three more similar ones were already under construction.

And such success my ex had managed to achieve in less than three months after finding herself in another world. Now that was a real feat—far more impressive, in my opinion, than even my achievement of the "Five Empty Fingers."

And let's not forget that, besides the already established productions, the guild was working on numerous new projects that could drastically increase the Ainuminati's income if successful. Take one, for example: a group of Water mages led by Felicia was developing a process for making watermarked paper. Even at the draft prototype stage, this product caught the interest of Antares' priests, who offered Arien an exclusive contract for nearly ten thousand full-weight gold coins.

If she wished, Arien could have turned the Ainuminati into a successful money-making corporation in a short time. But I knew for certain that gold and silver were far from the primary goal for the future goddess of Spontaneous Magic; they were just necessary resources for exploring the magical arts. For instance, on testing the properties of valirium and avalonium by a group of former earth scientists, Arien spent three times more than on the twelve sets of new armor that Ignis and I were working on.

"Raven," Ignis called me as I finished adjusting the belt on Clement. "I've been thinking..."

Nodding to the swordsman, I gestured for him to swing his arms and squat a bit to see how much more comfortable he felt moving in his new armor after my changes. Then, I turned to the blacksmith. He had just donned an updated gambeson—almost a complete copy of mine—and was now examining himself.

"This thing is really good," Ignis continued, bending at the waist and touching his fingers to the floor. "And, importantly, it's made only of fabric and leather... except for the chainmail inserts in the armpits and other vulnerable areas."

"Yes, good. And it's a battle-tested design," I nodded, not quite understanding where he was going with this.

"Listen, you've traveled the world far more than I have, and maybe I'm about to say something stupid, but..." He paused, clearly hesitating.

"If you've started, then finish," I urged the blacksmith, barely restraining myself from rolling my eyes.

"Well... the local mages and priests—and ours too—prefer to wear robes and other light clothing."

"Right. Metal interferes with their spellcasting. Well, not exactly interferes, but it certainly complicates working with energies," I confirmed his observation.

"This gambeson," Ignis slapped the layered fabric covering his chest, "is decent protection on its own, even without the chainmail inserts. Especially against bludgeoning or glancing blows."

"True, I've explored several dungeons wearing just a gambeson, without even putting chainmail over it," I agreed.

"So, I thought, what if we made something similar for our mages? Simpler, lighter. A gambeson over which they could drape a mage's robe or priestly garment," Ignis finally articulated his idea.

"Oh!" Clement suddenly chimed in. "Make something like a fabric 'bulletproof vest' for concealed wear. And if it's treated with alchemy or enchanting rituals, the protection would be as good as a fine chainmail."

"Exactly!" Ignis brightened up, pleased with the support.

"Ugh..." I sighed theatrically. "It's a sound idea. In fact, just five days ago, when I was showing Arien my underarmor, I suggested something similar. But she ignored me."

"Well," the blacksmith grimaced, "Arien is Arien. She's talented, but she has her... 'quirks.' I'm sure Geophon and other Earth mages wouldn't refuse such armor."

"And our healers wouldn't mind either," Clement supported Ignis. "I know that for sure."

"If I may..." one of the recruits, sitting nearby and overhearing the conversation, spoke up. Receiving my nod of approval, he continued, "I, for example, am a Fire mage. And I definitely wouldn't refuse such extra protection." He glanced at me and added, "Especially after Strategist Raven hit me quite painfully with a staff on the back during yesterday's training. You know, a good whack really clears the mind," the recruit laughed awkwardly.

Hm-m-m. Well, damn... once again, life poked me in the nose, reminding me that I was not as smart as I thought. I'd suggested fabric armor to Arien as an option for additional protection, gotten rejected, and dropped the subject altogether. Yet all I'd needed was to pitch it not to the guild leadership, but directly to the rank-and-file.

"Hope you two can manage without me now?" After a brief thought, I turned to Ignis and Clement.

"Yes," the blacksmith nodded. "Everything's clear now, just routine work left."

"Good. Then I'll talk to Geophon and Sunsin about the 'armored vests.'"

My words clearly pleased Ignis, and he smiled broadly.

Leaving the workshop, I squinted involuntarily. The sun had just passed its zenith and was scorching mercilessly. After blinking a few times, I looked around and immediately found the chief healer of the guild. He was sitting on the veranda of a small one-story house, hiding in the shade of the awning, reading a scroll and occasionally making notes in a notebook.

"Studying the life story of Elai?" I inquired, approaching the Life mage.

"Yes, all according to your advice, strategist," Sunsin said, setting the scroll aside and looking up at me. "An interesting experience. The unusual rhythm of the poetic lines—I've never encountered anything like it on Earth."

"That's all?" I asked, a slight smile forming on my lips.

"Hints of high-level healing techniques encrypted in the verses are also intriguing," he replied, maintaining a serious expression.

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"If you have time to read, then everyone is alive and well... which means I can steal you away for a while?"

"I just sat down to rest..." Sunsin rolled his eyes.

"Ignis made a suggestion that could significantly reduce your future workload," I baited.

"Have a seat," the healer patted a nearby stool. "Tell me about it."

Initially, I wanted to gather all the influential mages of the guild and talk to them all at once. But I changed my mind. The reason was simple: if the head healer of the guild also supported my proposal, adding his authority to mine would make it much easier to convince the others.

Sitting down in the offered seat, I vividly and colorfully explained the essence of Ignis's idea. Not only did I recount it, but, having already donned my gambeson while assembling the armor, I also demonstrated its protective properties. I placed special emphasis on the fact that such fabric armor could significantly reduce the number of injuries and wounds among the mages and priests of the Ainuminati.

Naturally, an experienced healer like Sunsin immediately recognized the benefits of the blacksmith's proposal. Still, he hesitated for a while, fearing that even this entirely fabric armor could hinder the manipulation of magical energies. However, convincing him was fairly quick. Interestingly, the decisive argument wasn't the fact that I freely used magic in much heavier armor, but rather the more mundane example of local tunneller-mages, who had long and willingly used similar protection.

"If you don't mind, may I take a closer look at your gambeson?" Sunsin asked, rising from his seat.

"Of course," I agreed readily.

I stood up too and began explaining the purpose of each detail or insert made of dense tanned leather.

"The chainmail elements sewn onto the fabric," I pointed to the armpits, neck area, and the inside of the bicep, "are part of the overall set with plate armor. In a lighter version, they can be omitted."

"It's heavy. And it still restricts movement," Sunsin remarked discontentedly.

"Heavy? Only for a novice at Copper," I laughed. "By Bronze, no one will notice its weight. As for your comment about 'restricting movement'..."

Without finishing, I did a forward flip from my spot, right off the veranda, landing on my feet on the path in front of the house. Then, I executed a couple of smooth "cartwheel" flips, walked on my hands, and finished with a backflip.

"Convincing," the Life mage had to admit. "Actually, I've even seen your training in full armor... but earthly experience, apparently, still clouded my judgment," Sunsin acknowledged, rubbing his temples. "Considering you're talking about a lighter version now..."

"Like this one." Well before my conversation with Arien, I'd already prepared several sketches, and now I quickly pulled them out of my belt pouch, passing them over to the healer.

"Interesting…" Sunsin unfolded the papers and immersed himself in reading for a couple of minutes. "Excellent protection for vital organs," he finally declared. Then he added with a squint, "I don't believe Ignis drew this."

"The drawing is indeed mine. But the idea came from the blacksmith." I stuck to my story, which, by the way, was partially true.

"Alright, you've convinced me. I'll allocate funds from the medical budget for these... what do you call them? Armored vests?" The healer nodded. "Leave the designs, and I'll place an order at the workshops in Katiyer."

"Not now. I'll make a copy and send it." I shook my head. "In the meantime... will you help me convince the others?"

"Me?!!" Sunsin was genuinely surprised. "Convince? No way. I hate chasing people and proving things to them. That's not my thing."

"But can I use your agreement as an argument?" I asked directly.

"That, yes. The best protection is fewer injuries. You can say the guild's medical service... recommends it."

Of course, it would have been better if he had agreed to come with me. But even such a "recommendation" from someone respected in the guild was worth a lot.

Since Arien, according to the people around, was in Katiyer—negotiating with the municipality and the Pantheon priests about transferring Magevra's altar—I decided to be more assertive. Instead of tracking down the people I needed individually, I simply gave the on-duty shift of the guards an order: find those I needed and instruct them to report to the final assembly workshop.

My week of work as a strategist had not been in vain: it took only ten minutes for everyone I wanted to see to gather. Discipline truly was an extraordinary thing.

When everyone was assembled, I realized I was making a mistake by planning to persuade anyone. Why persuade when I could frame it as a strategist's directive, mandatory for execution? Of course, Arien wouldn't like it; she preferred to use persuasion and manipulation, constantly emphasizing that the Ainuminati is a guild of free people. But during all the time I held the position she offered, she never overturned any of my decisions, not even the most controversial ones. I doubted she'd change that habit now. So, I structured the conversation differently than I initially intended. Actually, it was hardly a conversation at all—more of a monologue.

First, I presented a short introductory lecture, lasting about three minutes. Then, I gave examples from the practice of local tunnellers, delving into specific cases where fabric armor saved the lives of mages or priests during dungeon clearings. Next, I demonstrated that a gambeson doesn't restrict movement as much as it might seem. After that, I showed designs for lightened armor, explaining each key detail. Finally, I added that the guild's healers had already evaluated the proposed concept and intended to place an order with the workshops in Katiyer from their budget.

Of course, there were disputes and dissatisfaction. The ladies, in particular, were upset—they liked how they looked in their mage robes and priestly garments. But even they were convinced by a simple argument: the proposed vests could be worn under the very dresses they cherished so much.

After answering all the questions and dismissing everyone, I pondered: in the Ainuminati, a situation largely unique to most earthlings had developed. This was especially true for mages and priests, who paid almost no attention to protective gear. There were several reasons for this.

Firstly, the guild was well-organized, and, for example, dungeon expeditions were carried out with the help of local tunnellers—forming complete, balanced groups of twelve. This meant that the second-row fighters—namely, mages and priests—almost never faced monsters in close combat. As a result, they had little need for additional protection.

Secondly, the guild's camp was located near a fairly large city. The townspeople, including the priests of the Pantheon and magical healers, traditionally preferred light clothing and almost never wore armor. This was the norm throughout Ain, except for the tunnellers. However, those were relatively few—no more than one or two percent of the overall population.

And thirdly, the Arien factor shouldn't be underestimated. Many in the Ainuminati held their head in the deepest reverence. The future goddess of Spontaneous Magic fundamentally refused to wear armor, preferring light, beautiful outfits and dresses. So, the other mages unwittingly followed her example.

Tonight, as agreed with Arien, I was set to leave the Ainuminati. Overall, almost everything planned here was accomplished. Sure, I would've liked to learn a few more spells... but that could wait. Especially since soon I'd be heading to Pentapolis, where finding teachers likely wouldn't be a problem.

Perhaps the only thing I didn't manage to achieve during the week here was to talk with Rahu. After exchanging a few words with the duty guard shift, I learned that the master of shadows had left the camp about an hour ago and headed toward Katiyer.

Rahu often visited the alchemical shops in Katiyer—this information was already well known to me. So, it was quite logical to assume that he could be found there. Yes, he deliberately avoided me, and imposing myself in such a situation was not the best idea. But if I could disguise the meeting as accidental... maybe I'd manage to exchange at least a few words with him?

With this thought, I found Felicia and informed her that I needed to go to the city—to undergo the ritual of Self-Knowledge. In principle, this wasn't a direct lie: performing this ritual would indeed help me understand how the Stars of Talent were redistributed after last night's ceremony.

I reached Katiyer from the guild camp at a leisurely pace in fifteen minutes. By the open gates stood a familiar guard shift—the very one with whose decurion we drank beer six days ago. After spending three minutes on a conversation about "nothing," I found out that the guards hadn't seen Rahu today. However, this didn't mean much—Rahu had more than enough skills to bypass the decurion of Steel rank and enter the city unnoticed.

Spending about half an hour visiting all the alchemical shops I knew, much to my disappointment, I never crossed paths with Rahu. However, I did manage to buy several potions that cost twice or even three times as much in Pentapolis. So, you could say the time wasn't wasted.

It was frustrating, of course, that the master of shadows was avoiding me... But there was nothing I could do about it without risking pushing him away with my excessive persistence.

With this heavy thought, I headed to the Temple of the Pantheon. Thanks to my status as the guild sheriff, I bypassed a small line of peasants who had come to the city to offer prayers, and, finding a priest of Aerad, I asked him to perform the Ritual of Self-Knowledge for me.

The priest, a middle-aged man, at first didn't even understand what I wanted from him. Such a ritual was usually performed only once—at the Bronze rank. For someone already on the Precious Coil of the Spiral of Elevation to request it again... This was the first time he had ever encountered such a thing.

Talking about the Redistribution Ritual I had undergone wasn't the best idea, so I gave vague explanations and, silencing further inquiries from the priest with a generous offering to the temple, insisted on my request.

While preparations were underway for this simple and rather mundane Ritual of Self-Knowledge, I felt a bit anxious. The way my consciousness interpreted the immersion into the Core, all that visualization with shifting elemental blocks, did not give me complete confidence that it turned out exactly as I had initially intended. In theory, I had an idea of what the outcome should be. But having an idea isn't the same as knowing for sure. Especially considering Ishid's "help"... And the unclear consequences of that help.

About fifteen minutes later, I got answers to my questions and exhaled with noticeable relief. Almost all the Stars of Elemental Talents were redistributed exactly as planned: a full four in Lightning and three in Earth. Water and Fire—two each. All as calculated. But Air...

According to the original plan, its value was also supposed to drop to two. But as a result of the ritual, it turned out that I now had a four in this Element.

Four Stars of Talent in Air!

When it hit me, I momentarily forgot how to breathe. Wow! That was utterly unexpected!

"Esteemed Sheriff," the worried voice of the priest of Aerad pulled me out of deep thought. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." I replied dryly, then added more confidently, "All good. Just one question."

"I'm listening," the servant of the god of History responded with a hint of concern.

"I have an unclear value in Bard Talents. I was told it's because of a significant disparity between skills in that area. Could you tell me if there's some sort of a minstrel guild in Katiyer that could help me with this?"

"Hmm..." The priest stroked his chin and, after a few seconds of thought, replied, "There is no such guild in our city. But in Beziu, as far as I know, there is a theater, albeit a small one. There, you can determine the exact distribution of the Talent Stras in your Bard mastery."

"Thank you for your help."

As a sign of gratitude, I dropped five silver coins into the donation bowl by the statue of the divine Chronicler and, with a light smile on my face, left the Pantheon temple.