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Like his neck was a rusted gate hinge, Alex slowly turned to face Theresa—who was advancing on him menacingly.
Surprise, followed by inquisitiveness. And inquisitiveness followed by a sense of… focus. If he had been awake and present… He might have thought that the golem and sapling were communicating.
Now, where is the scoundrel who wrenched such a prize from the hands of our enemies?”
“A Proper Wizard doesn’t ignore any source of power?”
“Redundancies are important in safety,” Alex said, repeating some of the safety part of his first-year alchemy textbook word for word. “Safety procedures and equipment aren’t meant to protect you in ideal conditions; they’re meant to protect you under stress.”
Remember: as your resources expand, then normal limitations become… guidelines.
“For blood and thunder, then. Into the hunt we go.
“Do you know what one of the advantages of overwhelming power is, Alex?” The ancient wizard raised his staff. “What?” Alex asked. “Convenience,” Baelin said, his voice taking on a dark note. Then a tidal wave of mana rose around them.
“Magic in general is variable.” Baelin surveyed the land with his hands on his hips. “For example, if one had need to codify the damage dealt by attack spells using pen and paper, I would imagine it would require some sort of complicated dice system to simulate.”
‘This is the life,’ he thought. ‘Swimming through muddy water on the way to kill a bunch of cultists and demons so we can rescue some hostages.
Breathin’ hurts right now,” Cedric grunted. “But… at least it tells us we’re still alive.” “Yeah,” Alex said. “Damn right we’re still alive.” “We’re still alive,” Theresa echoed. In that moment—surrounded by the sounds of dying demons and cultists being finished off—being alive seemed like a very precious thing, indeed.
What does a mortal do if their own god tells you that you know too much?’
The Thameish wizard’s eyes traced the damage on the golem’s body. ‘Cracks,’ he thought. ‘Just like the cracks in all of us now. Cracks in faith. Cracks in purpose.’
“Realms require a uniting force to stay together, whether that be a strong power on the throne, a mighty deity, an ideal, a common enemy, or something else.
They had even passed a tall bush pruned in the shape of a mage spellcasting: a literal hedge wizard.
the greatest tool anyone could have in a negotiation. The ability to simply walk away.
“Who’re you?” Destra asked. “I’m known by many names through many times and in many roles, all of them important!”
“Not agaaain!” the asrai screamed, his cry a war-horn for what was to come.
Claygon had always been beautiful to Alex. A terror to be sure, but a beautiful terror, much like Theresa was.
“Don’t say the name. Some fae’ve got a bad habit of… putting lures in their names. Makin’ ’em all sticky-like and letting them know when their name’s been spoken.
“Hello… Father,” Claygon gently whispered in his mind.
