The Wandsmith [LitRPG, Isekai, Harem]

"Which way is it to your town?" Ori asked.

Since Lucas's dramatic appearance, Tess's gaze had grown distant and contemplative, no longer bristling with disbelief. The Dire Strix, after dispelling his Prismatic Mist, had released the full force of his Immortal Rank aura, an oppressive pressure akin to Divinity itself. For the unawakened, such a presence would feel like a mountain falling upon their shoulders. The fact Tess remained upright, without collapsing or losing control of her body, spoke volumes of her strength.

"Sorry, what did you say?" she asked, blinking as she surfaced from her thoughts.

Beside Ori, Ruenne'del watched everything with her usual intensity, though a perpetual smirk now played at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't just amusement at Ori fumbling through his pitch. Beneath the surface, Ori could sense threads of emotion woven together, curiosity, jealousy, concern, all directed towards the elf and coiled into something he'd need to untangle later.

"Strafhollow," Ori prompted. "You said you were from there. Which direction is it?"

"You'll save them?" Tess asked, her mind still catching up.

"Yes. Or you could?" Ori replied.

"For you to tame such a beast…" She began, almost whispering to herself as she worked through her thoughts. "But your aura… well of course you could hide or suppress your aura, you're likely just as powerful or stronger, which means, you're either some kind of Patron. Likely a fiend or celestial, someone who'd make a warlock out of me, wouldn't you?" she asked slowly, her mind finally catching up with her words.

"Eventually, yes." Ori smiled, enjoying as he got to witness her personality unwrap before him.

"And in exchange I… become what, one of your wives?"

"It's not a transaction." Ori sighed softly. "I'm…" He paused. "It's strange. Not that long ago, from my perspective, anyway, I found myself soul-bound to a lich. The day after, she asked me to marry her. I turned her down out of fear. I'd just met her, and I panicked. But I was also flattered. Deep down, I knew she could become someone I'd trust, respect, maybe even love. But I was weak then. I had nothing to offer, I had to hide who I was and what I wanted."

"And now that you're powerful, you don't?"

Ori shrugged. "Sort of. I'm far from all-powerful. There are people out there I need to be wary of. But beyond all of that I'm trying to become someone better, someone my younger self would have liked and respected. I'm working on stripping away the fear, the insecurities, the hesitation, all the layers that stopped me being honest with myself." He met her gaze, silver eyes locked on her turquoise ones. His voice softened. "I'm not perfect. I'm still changing. But with you… there was something… a resonance. Had you been someone else, I might not have been this direct. But yes, I asked you to join my family. Not for what you could give me, but because I wanted to."

"And if I say no?" Tess asked, her brow furrowing.

"Then I shrug, save your family and your village, then walk away."

"That's it? I mean… if you really wanted me, wouldn't you, wouldn't I…"

"Maybe I'd reconsider my approach next time," Ori chuckled. "I'm really not very good at this. But no, I'd respect your decision and move on."

Tess bit her lip and looked away.

"She's thinking about it…" Ruenne'del said, her scratchy voice tinged with amusement.

Tess shot her a glare, but Ori waited, patient and quiet.

"Shouldn't I?" Tess muttered. "Think about it, I mean? A man falls out of the sky and propositions me—offering, well… a lot. I want to reject it out of hand. It's too sudden. I don't know you. For all I know, you're a malicious god wrapped in charm. Most stories about people offering power end in corruption, in ruin. But… if I say no, there's still a chance you won't save them. Even if you say you will."

Ori nodded slowly, unsurprised. He acknowledged that soul resonance or not, expecting an instant answer was unrealistic, though it had never been his intention.

"Let's walk and talk," he said gently. "I told you who I am and what I want. I was upfront because I respect your choice, whatever it turns out to be, but I never said you had to decide right now."

"You want me to save my people. What if I'm not ready to make that choice yet?"

"I can wait," Ori said. "We'll find another opportunity."

"Then… can you save them, please? Maybe once they're safe, my heart and mind will be settled."

"Alright," Ori replied, smiling faintly as the conversation came full circle. "So… which way?"

"That… bow, does it hold any sentimental value?" Ori asked.

After a brief discussion and change in direction, they had walked around the town, following the merchant roads that ringed Dremsway to the west. Two hours on the road, followed by an hour off it, would bring them to her village. While they had skirted the nameless settlement, they had remained mostly silent. Ori had given Tess space to process her thoughts while staying alert for any complications that might arise from being in such proximity to an unwelcoming place once again.

"I… yes. My Da gave it to me."

"Can I have a look at it?" Ori asked.

"Why?"

"Sometimes I like to make things. I've never made a bow before, so I'd like to have a look at yours for inspiration."

"Alright."

Tess handed over the weapon. A cream-coloured staff, similar to a longbow in function, angular and roughly polished, it was made from hardwood and stood over a metre and a half tall. Strips of coloured fabric were wrapped around it, likely decorative, though Ori detected faint mana signatures as he examined it. A spare bowstring was coiled around the handle, and a small stick jutted out perpendicular to the frame, which Ori guessed served as a crude sight. Tentatively, he tested the flex of the wood, made a few quick calculations, and then handed it back.

All the while, they watched him, Ruenne'del with her persistent amusement, and Tess with a caution and consideration that had gradually replaced her earlier dazed anxiety.

Retrieving a piece of bone before swapping it for a branch of Aether-warped wood, Ori began transmuting the material using Echo Forging. Within seconds, the thick branch, no longer than a metre, disintegrated inch by inch in a cloud of misty light, only to reform in his other hand, a stick that extended at both ends until it mirrored the shape of the bow he had just inspected.

With his greatly improved intelligence and ample mana reserves, the once slow and painfully intricate channelling spell had become something closer to a casual, almost godlike demonstration of creation. Not only could it alter the physical shape and internal structure of a material, but subtle changes to its chemical composition were also possible. It wasn't quite turning Lead to Gold, but given a complex and Aether-rich base, there were few non-metallic objects Ori couldn't create with the initial piece of wood.

"You'll really save them?"

"Yes." Ori frowned, unsure why the question was being asked again.

"Why?"

"Because I can? Because you want me to? Because I could gain more knowledge about demons and the fallen from the ones I defeat? Because, while I won't go out of my way to fight evil, I will fight it if it's in front of me."

"And what of the people you save?" Tess asked.

"I'll free them. Heal any physical wounds to the best of my abilities. Then, I suppose, make sure they get somewhere safe."

"And what will you ask of them?" Tess pressed, cautious tension creeping into her tone.

"Probably nothing? I mean, if they could help me in some way, or if I saw someone worth asking like I asked you, I wouldn't be afraid to speak up, but I wouldn't expect anything. I certainly wouldn't demand anything." Ori laughed. "Like I said, I was normal, a mortal just over a month ago. I've freed thousands, healed hundreds harmed by their captivity. I've asked people to help me, to help themselves, to follow, or to leave. But you're the first I've actually taken the initiative to ask anything of." He chuckled. "And if it's going this badly, probably the last."

Tess's cheeks flushed red as she looked away.

"I have… a lot of questions." She asked eventually

Glancing at the elf, Ori nodded. "Yeah, I get that. Ask away."

"What's your end goal?" Tess asked eventually. "I mean, from the myths, Patrons usually have a big, all-encompassing goal they're trying to achieve. And to that end, they… seek out people to help them do things they can not."

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"There's lots I need to do. But ultimately? I just want to live my life and keep the people I love safe and happy. For that, I need strength. So… Transcendence is the ultimate goal, I suppose, but only because it's more possible for me than most. Between now and then, I need to do things. Fight things. Make things. Go to places. Meet people. Some of it will be dangerous, even for me."

"That's rather vague. Though I suppose it's best I don't know the details." Tess said, some of her tension relaxing from her posture.

"Yeah."

"And why the Thalan'avelir? Why form a party at all? Wouldn't you just carry them? I mean, if you can walk the realms, what could they do that you could not?"

"My first familiar actually convinced me it might be a good idea. She's another fae by the way, and I think she's watching right now... Freya, fancy coming out?" Ori began, and taking the hint, Freya buzzed out of his soul space, causing Tess to flinch. The glowing prismatic sprite circled Ori's head before transforming in a flash to land on his shoulder.

"My apologies, Lady Tess, for this lug's less-than-tactful approach. Though he means well, he relies far too much on wild luck than charm when it comes to… well, talking or interacting with anyone, really," Freya huffed good-naturedly.

Tess smiled. "Just Tess is fine. And it's nice to meet you. Freya, was it?"

"Yes, I'm Freya—and Ori's first… well, soul bond. We formed a familiar pact back when he was a mortal, in order to escape captivity, and somehow, with a lot of luck, things worked out for the better."

Freya sat on his shoulder, her twisted translucent wings fluttering as they walked. Ori continued his crafting with runic enchantments, with Split Mind he was able to focus on the conversation while considering how to enchant a slider for toughness and rigidity while also working out other combinations that might benefit an archer.

"I tend to offer more wisdom than actual strength, which is just as well as it's something he's in desperate need of. To his credit, he does listen… mostly. As for the topic of Thalan'avelir, that came up when discussing progression: Whether he should try to master lots of different abilities or magic himself, or find those who could fill in those gaps. Willing fighters who would allow him to focus on what he does best."

"And what is it that he does best?"

"Crafting things, healing people, and turning demons to ash," Ori answered.

"Are we just going to walk into their camp? No plan? And what if people are hurt in the battle?"

After reaching the scorched remains of Strafhollow, Tess quickly picked up the trail, drag marks, broken branches, scraps of cloth. It wasn't subtle. Ori, with his fourfold perception let alone his Transcendent perception ability, and some common sense, might have managed it too, but tracking was one of many things he preferred to outsource. His reliance on familiars for scouting already made that preference clear.

Another hour passed as they followed the trail west. During that stretch, they spoke more than they had since leaving town. Tess asked about Ori's magic, and he explained Echo Forging, his light and lightning affinities, and how he used them to attack, heal, craft, and enchant. In return, Ori asked about Strafhollow, what it had been like before, what her family did, and whether the diverse settlement had always been there. She shared stories her grandmother used to tell, of older times when elves were more respected in this region, before war and shifting rulers eroded that standing.

Freya helped keep the conversation flowing. Her irreverent tone and sharp quips softened Ori's blunt, often unsettling honesty. Tess, who had started the day on edge, gradually relaxed. Her curiosity returned, and she stopped working so hard to suppress her emotions. Freya teased Ori as much as she defended him, her light-hearted jabs easing the mood and drawing a few reluctant laughs from Tess. She was, Ori had to admit, a surprisingly effective wingwoman. Meanwhile, Rue pretty much kept her words to herself, despite her amusement and encouragement spilling through the bond.

As they crested a forest valley ridge and descended into the lowlands, Ori pulsed his domain, sensing signs of movement and clustered activity ahead. He summoned Lysara from her perch outside Redharrow. She crackled into view beside him, calm and alert. A moment later, he sent her and Lucas ahead to scout the encampment.

"The strongest is at the Greater… well, how well do you know the ranks of the Awakened?" Ori turned to the pink-and-blonde-haired elf.

"Not much. I know there are Awakened, and then there are gods, but not much of what's between."

"Hmmm. Well, think of it like this: an Awakened might be up to ten times as strong as a mortal in one area, or have the same strength spread over several areas. Each rank above multiplies that strength by roughly the same amount. So, for example, where an Awakened might be as strong as ten mortal men, a Nascent, the next rank up, would be a hundred. Greater, the rank after that, would be a thousand. Sovereign, ten thousand. Immortal, a hundred thousand. Divinity, a million. Pinnacle, ten million. And so on." Ori continued. "Lucas, that overgrown pigeon you've just met—is at the Immortal rank, so he's nominally as strong as a hundred thousand mortal men. The Greater-rank flesh traders who sacked your village are ants compared to him."

"And you?" Tess whispered. Curiosity had long since overtaken caution, though a trace of it still lingered.

"Honestly, Ruenne'del and I are a bit different. Were Lucas and I to fight… again… I'd probably win. Maybe. But according to the Library of Fate, I'm still at the Nascent Rank, the second rank, just above Awakening."

Freya chimed in, "He's what many call an Irregular, someone the Library struggles to categorise and often forces to ascend far faster than most others. The Library of Fate uses one's lifeforce as the base for rank limitations and classifications, and while that works for the most part, monsters with more mana than sense, or other aberrant traits, are often miscategorised and referred to as Irregulars."

Ori nodded. "I don't fear anyone at the Sovereign rank. I'd probably have better than even odds fighting someone at Immortal rank, higher still if they're Infernal."

"Okay, so what about me?" Tess asked.

Ori handed her the enchanted version of her bow. It had a similar shape to the original, though the material was now a transmuted length of dense cellulose, closer to plastic than traditional wood.

"Here. String it up, and I'll show you what it can do."

She did so, and after he demonstrated the basic enchantments of toughness, rigidity, and the sliders that allowed her to adjust its performance based on her strength, she gave a hesitant, uncertain thank you.

"Yeah, maybe I should've asked more about what you wanted," Ori admitted sheepishly, misinterpreting her reluctance. "It was mostly just practice."

"No, it's fine. It's just… I'm wary of accepting this. I haven't decided either way, and it feels rather valuable."

"There's no obligation. And I'm still really a beginner, honestly."

"He is trying to court you. Why not accept such an offering?" Rue chimed in.

"I… fine."

"Good. You'll come with. Easier for me to protect you if you're close," Ori said. "Besides, if you want to see what I can do, you might as well get a front-row seat."

With Prismatic Mist shrouding them, Tess, Ori, and his bonds approached the camp at a calm, unhurried pace. It was the first time he'd cast the spell, and to his surprise, his Bondweaver passive, Mirror Protection, had applied the concealment automatically to all of his bonded companions, just as it would a shield.

With a second cast on Tess, they slipped through the perimeter unseen, the lookouts oblivious to their presence. After locating the captives, all tied with rope and lined up, a dishevelled assortment of villagers, Ori took stock. There was a broad mix of races: elves of various kinds, beastkin, and fae both familiar and strange. The most striking among them was a lamia, a man who towered over the rest, with a giant snake for its lower half, badly beaten, chunks of flesh torn from his thick, green, scaly tail, and one arm amputated. Though still mortal, he must have put up a hell of a fight before being subdued.

As they reached the central campfire, surrounded by a more subdued band of slavers than the last camp Ori had encountered, he broke stealth by casting Prismatic Shield. The sudden flare of magic and their abrupt appearance caused the expected alarm. Recognition, dread, and stuttering followed, rippling outward through the camp.

Unwilling to drag things out and with too many witnesses to bother with masking his abilities, Ori acted before the second "Demon Bane" could be uttered. Starfield erupted, encapsulating the camp and dimming the afternoon light of the sparse forest. Thousands of motes spun around him like fireflies, forming a looser constellation than usual, then launched like heat-seeking missiles, each star veering towards every living being larger than a ferret, excluding Tess, Ori, and his bonds within a mile radius.

Beyond a brief scan of the minds of the edge cases, flesh traders who hadn't participated in the sadism, or prisoners who'd been cruel even before their capture, Ori allowed the rest to burn.

He watched as one man screamed, reaching to his back, only to twist in horror as his hand ignited too. Light spread across flesh and bone, vapourising both in a slow ripple that lasted only a breath. However wretched the man had been in life, Ori knew that scene, unlike most, would linger with him, caught between memory and daydream, for the rest of his life.

"I've stopped the bleeding, but to replace your missing arm and flesh would take more from you than your body could handle right now," Ori said to Bis'quin, the lamia prisoner he'd noticed upon entering the camp.

More unnerved than impressed by his display, Tess had distanced herself from him after the massacre, choosing instead to free and organise the survivors, including a young flesh trader, a girl who had, for several weeks, convincingly passed as a skinny boy.

Still, within the remains of the Flesh Traders camp, healing had gone better than before. Most of the injuries were recent, wounds far easier to mend as long as there hadn't been significant blood loss or missing limbs. With food, rest, and a few days of continued treatment, Ori was confident he could restore most of them to good health, though that depended on whether he decided to stay.

According to memories gleaned from the slavers, the nearest major Infernal nest was less than a day's walk north. While Ori wasn't confident about storming the nest blind, against thousands, with at least one Immortal-ranked Infernal and dozens of Sovereigns, he was confident he could escape if things turned dire.

Still, it would be wise to take a few days to re-enchant his array or craft additional weapons, just in case.

In the meantime, he had already sent Lysara and Lucas to scout the region, with instructions to intervene directly wherever innocents could be saved from imminent death or capture.

"This is more than enough. With what you've done, I'm unsure how I could ever repay you," Bis'quin said.

"Don't worry about it. For me, this is training, and you're the first of your kind I've had the chance to treat. So think of it as my privilege."

"Oh no, I'd never see it that way. No, for being the first of my kind… It is I who should be honoured. That, and you freed us—all of us. I'm... or at least I was the Headman of Strafhollow. We don't have much now, but you and yours would be welcome, whether now or once we rebuild."

"Thanks," Ori said distractedly as he finished his Channel Restoration, his thoughts already drifting towards magic, flesh conjuration, and his plans to eventually form a body for Seraphine. His mind was so full of future tasks that, even with his thoughts split three ways, he had to remind himself that being a healer was more than just repairing flesh. "Actually, I've been looking for somewhere to stay, a month or two, maybe. I tried the town just east of here, but the people weren't exactly welcoming. If I helped with repairs and follow-up healing, would you be willing to host me and my friends for a while?"

"That would be more than fine," the lamia laughed, patting Ori firmly on the back in thanks.

"Thank you," Ori replied, returning the smile, pleased by the warmth of his response.

"Not a problem—"

"Ori." Tess's voice came from behind him. He turned to see two additional elves approaching: an older man and woman with more than a passing resemblance to Tess, though with more muted hair colours and styles. "This is my Ma and Da, Ricoh and Selene."

"Yes, I believe I healed them recently. Is everything alright, Ricoh and Selene of Strafhollow?" Ori asked with concern.

"Benefactor," Selene curtsied, her voice high and surprisingly refined, while Ricoh bowed lightly. "Once again, I thank you for coming to our aid—for answering our daughter's call. There is a matter I'd like to discuss with you." Her eyes flicked briefly towards Bis'quin carrying a subtle hint. "In private, if that's acceptable?"

"Sure."