Lone: The Wanderer [Rewrite]

Cuardaigh of the Tower shook her head. "The teleportation platform is only available to high-ranking members of the enclave or very special guests. It's supposedly very expensive to run. As for enchantment grimoires, I can't sell those. Again, they're members only. Mid-ranking or higher. I can sell you some formation plates with similar effects though."

'So she's weak to sweet talk but not enough to break the rules? This is the only place in the city that I even have a slim chance to teleport with. The three other locations would require so much extra time to maybe get such a chance,' Lone thought.

One of those locations was the palace, but Prince Keining wasn't in the city and his connection with Yulia wasn't enough of a reason to justify using their resources for a selfish teleportation.

The other two were similar institutions to the Madendium Enclave, both filled with mages and magical wonders, but neither had tried to forge a connection with Sofia, so this place seemed like the easiest access he'd get to the Farwinds without spending days and weeks travelling.

Even if he'd been rejected, it seemed that with the correct attitude and words, he could work something out here.

"Sure, I'd love some formation plates," he answered with a charming smile.

"To ward away demonkin, right? Ones for all beings don't exist yet. At least, not in this city. The idiots here certainly aren't capable of making something so versatile. Formation plates can only be imprinted by one person, so that person would need to be able to ward off all beings themselves. An unlikely ability for anyone here, that's for sure. Give me a minute to find some for you to pick between," the fairy said with a smile that seemed genuine, but Lone couldn't quite tell. She wasn't trying to obscure anything according to Enhanced Vision, at least.

As she flew up to some shelves in the back, Lone leaned against the countertop and remarked, "Cuardaigh... To search, or to seek, to be curious. Does the meaning hold true for you, or is it just a pretty name?"

Lone didn't know every Gaelic word there was, but he had briefly studied the dead language - both the Scottish and Irish versions - in his pursuit to become a history teacher. With his Puzzle Locked Mind's ability to call upon any memory he wished, placing the word with its English translation wasn't difficult at all.

Cuardaigh of the Tower stopped was she was doing and flew straight up to Lone's face, almost touching it. "Wow! I've never heard a mortal pronounce my name so accurately before! That wasn't even because you're a hero! I can tell. The translations of Altros are always a bit iffy, y'know?"

Now it was his turn to be surprised. "You know I'm a hero?"

"Any denizen of the spirit worlds would be able to tell. Unique skills have unique smells. No clue why you have so many different smells, but that's none of my business. Still, that was great! Say it again! But like this this time! Fear-iarraidh an Tùir!" she demanded excitedly.

'Not Cuardaigh an Tùir? Wonder why. I don't understand nearly enough about the languages to tell. If I ever find a way back to Earth, I'd love to really master all of the dead languages of the planet. Maybe I could even officially translate the ones that still stump the scholars of today,' he wondered before getting back on track. "I'd be happy to, but I really do need to use the teleportation platform. Would you be able to pull some strings, please? I'd consider it a favour."

Lone didn't know much about spirits and the like, but he had read enough to know that persuading the one in front of him wouldn't be too difficult if she had the ability to do what he wanted and if he was sincere.

"I mean, I could bend the rules. They did give me more permissions than I rightly need, but what if it's a trap to justify punishing me more?" she said in worry, not accusing Lone of any foul play at all. No, so was simply suspicious of the masters of this place, not of him.

"You go out of your way for me, Fear-iarraidh an Tùir, and I'll go out of my way for you. Once your contract with the enclave expires, I'd be happy to contract you for exclusively short and trivial tasks, or whatever is easiest for you to gain power with. Honestly, the people here are ridiculously unwise to not befriend you given your kind's talents." He knew nothing of her personal capabilities but there had to be a reason she was contracted here, no?

"Ah, you said it so perfectly! Okay. You've won me over. But just so you know, summoning me, let alone binding me to an agreement, isn't an easy task," she said flying away a bit as she put a hand on her hip and the other in front of her with a proudly wagging index finger.

"I'm a quick learner. It'll be my top priority when you're free. So, about those formation plates? And when exactly does your deal with the enclave end?" Lone asked, quite chuffed this venture had worked.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Persuasion] has levelled up! It is now Advanced Level 5.

Lone had a feeling of sickness wash over him as the world spun around him. A few minutes later, the spinning finally stopped.

He gathered himself and noticed he was standing on a platform very similar to the one Cuardaigh of the Tower had used to send him here except it had cogs and brass incorporated into its design and it looked even more powerful than the teleportation platform he had used in Golden Pass City.

Congratulations! The host's passive skill [Nausea Resistance] has levelled up! It is now Intermediate Level 10.

'I really do get spoiled by Sofia's Teleportation, huh?' he thought as he looked around. "So this must be the capital of the dwarven kingdoms, Krieg Tunroh, huh?"

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"No. Well, yes, but the room itself is not the entire capital. How did you get access to one of our teleportation platforms?" A spindly human woman who, to Lone's aura, felt like a middle or higher S-ranker. "You're not one of the people who had permission to access this location, nor are you a permitted guest."

Considering she hadn't attacked or tried to detain him and had instead waited until he had come to his sense to speak to him, Lone judged the situation to be peaceful, thus, he replied kindly and honestly.

"I'm Immortus the Immortal, and I'm in a hurry. I can assure you though, I was given permission to use the teleportation platform in Golden Pass City. I'll be leaving now unless you need anything from me?" Lone asked, hoping this encounter wouldn't last any longer than it needed to. He had a safehouse he needed to rush to and protect.

The old woman scrutinised him before widening her eyes. "Immortus the Immortal. You're that man who killed a low-rank eldritch horror a couple of months ago. Go, go, I have no right to keep you here if you just want to leave. The dwarves might have my head if I do if you had permission to use our services. Take that door there and then the exit's your first door on the right."

Lone smiled at her and said, "Thank you, miss. Have a lovely day."

He didn't immediately leave the building, but by following the S-ranker instructions, he found himself at the exit with two people staring at him oddly. Both of them were human guards of the enclave and it wasn't their place to question him considering what room he had come out of, but Lone could certainly understand their confusion.

He hadn't left yet because he now he had to vacate the most-defended city of all of the kriegs without being caught. He was technically an illegal immigrant right now since he hadn't regained his temporary citizenship for the Farwinds. That was revoked two weeks following the expiration of his militaristic enlistment.

'Really need to invest in illusion magic or stealth skills. Or both,' Lone thought before nodding and reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out his 'Yes, I don't look like this. Stop Asking.' brooch and changed his appearance into that of a dwarf who could perhaps be mistaken for a distant cousin of Hamish's.

He jumped in place a little bit and then wiggled his whole body, trying to get accustomed to the new proportions of the disguise - mainly the fact he was now two feet shorter - before he nodded politely at the guards and then directly left the building.

"..."

"..."

"We don't get paid enough for this kind of shit."

"Couldn't have said it better myself."

Sheelda McStuderson sipped her tea as she sat in her custom crafted garden lounger. She watched her adoptive children play with her adoptive granddaughter in a pool of pure crystal water - the centrepiece of her estate's rear garden. It was one of the few pieces of greenery within the entire city, so it was quite the sight and was very relaxing to be in. Being a member of the greater council had its benefits, after all.

She felt... at peace. Of course, she was quite busy politically with trying to manipulate the council into creating a more equal Farwinds for all races and species, as per her contract with Lone Immortus. But still, even that wasn't too stressful. It was a thing she had no deadline to accomplish so long as she was always working towards that goal.

No longer having scripture magic bearing down on her soul was so liberating. She could start a family of her own now if she wished to and not have to fear seeking justice for each and every death that had little to do with her. Even if she was perfectly satisfied with her adopted family, the option to begin a new one was truly magical.

She took another sip from her tea as a thought crossed her mind. 'I do wonder when he will return to get me to use all of my skills on him. He never did for the duration of his sentence. Would he even need them? He might be a C-ranker, but he killed a low-ranked eldritch horror. Maybe X-rankers would fail at the very same task. What need would he have of mostly clerical skills and one or two combat skills?'

A few moments later, one of the many steamforged automatons that guarded her mansion approached her and said, "Unknown. Guest. Refuses. Leave. Allow. Entry? Execute? Apprehend?"

Sheelda frowned. She loved the security these machines afforded her given they were as strong as a lower SSS-ranker individually, but they had no intelligence and their ability to communicate was infuriating at the worst of times. Why did they always have to boom their words so loudly? And the information they were able to store and relay... What did her guest look like? What had they said?

She sighed and focused on her aura, pushing it to the entrance of her estate. She almost dropped her teacup when her aura interacted with the ferocious beast that was the aura of her B-ranked guest.

"I know this aura... And this feeling... That's no dwarf. Allow them entry," she ordered.

"Affirmative," the steamforged automaton replied before its gears whirred into action and it made for the mansion.

A few minutes later, the steamforged machine the size of a Shale had returned with a decisively average looking dwarven man walking alongside it. Average looking, yes, but this was no average person. The feeling the man gave Sheelda told her he could kill her in less than a second if he wished to.

"It's been a while. Congratulations on your rank up," she greeted as calmly as should could manage.

He nodded at her. "Thanks. I'm not here for skills today. I trust you've figured out who I am?"

"Of course," she replied, taking a much-needed sip of her drink.

"Great. I need you to arrange my citizenship with the dwarven kingdoms. Make it permanent. Shouldn't be too hard considering I have Eldritch Resistance. I need it done as soon as possible. Within an hour or two at the latest," the dwarf- no, Lone Immortus the Golden Foxkin who had saved her from an Arch Devil, requested.

Sheelda nodded. "I thought something like this might happen. I've got all of the paperwork arranged for you, the human woman, and the Crimson Foxkin you travelled with. You'll be free to journey through the Farwinds in less than ten minutes if you'll let me go to my office and stamp some exemption papers."

"Great. I only need it for myself, but if it works like a passport, I'll take all three of them. I also need one of these automatons," he claimed.

"Whatever for?" she asked, confused. He was much stronger than these walking towers of metal considering his feats of strength.

"Research. Is it too much to ask?" he questioned.

She pursed her lips. "Yes and no. I don't technically own them. They are a relic of the past, belonging to the descendants of an epitome of a very old generation. They can no longer be recreated, only maintained. They are cutting-edge and highly valued by the greater council. Of course, they're nothing when compared to Epitome Steamson's works. My condolences, by the way. If it helps, the greater council did privately rule to ignore you killing him at his request and we've written off the steamforged artefacts you stole during your sentence. You killing the horror allowed for a lot of leeway. I hardly needed to speak for things to be in your favour."

"I assumed as much considering there have been no attempts to take away my toys yet. You said yes and no. That was the no, so what's the yes?" he asked, cutting straight to the point.

"I won't try to stop you if you steal one," Sheelda answered plainly. "I know I'm incapable of such."

Lone Immortus narrowed his eyes and then asked, "Are they living in some way?"

"Not even remotely. It's all machinery and the magic of steamforging," she answered, unsure why he'd ask such a question.

He nodded and then laid his hand on the automaton that had guided him to her.

"Remove. Limb. Or. Limb. Removed. Permission. Lack-"

The loud protestation and threats of bodily harm ceased as the massive man of metal disappeared. "That should keep me busy."

"Busy for what?" Sheelda asked.

"That's none of your business. let's get the citizenship sorted out then I'll be leaving," he replied coldly.

'What an attitude. Well, judging by the situation, he's down here to hide, isn't he? I can understand the caginess in that case,' she thought before she finished her tea and got up. "Of course."