PftA Book 4 - Chapter 47 - Anya's Request

“Welcome to my home,” Anya said with a smile.

I was a little surprised that she’d been the one to answer the door, given the size of the estate. I’d expected to be greeted by a butler or servant.

“Thank you,” I said as I stepped through the threshold.

The foyer was decorated with a variety of art from different sectors of the Alliance. Most of it was made from mid or high-tier materials, as opposed to the peak-tier materials I expected to find on Sira.

“I’ve prepared a variety of snacks for you,” Anya said as she led me deeper into the sprawling mansion. “I know how much you enjoy new foods,” she added playfully.

She wasn’t wrong, but I didn’t think my interest there was all that unusual. Most people liked to eat delicious things. I was probably just a bit more active in seeking new culinary experiences.

I really should take some time to focus on improving my Cooking skill. Perhaps I’d dedicate some time to it once I reached the Pinnacle and left the dungeon for good.

I followed my mentor’s sister into a large sitting room. Several trays were set up around the comfortable-looking chairs, each with a variety of delectable offerings.

“Help yourself,” Anya said, motioning toward the trays before settling into one of the plush chairs.

Not wanting to seem rude, I grabbed a plate and loaded it with several items before sitting in the empty chair.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked before sampling the first item. “You mentioned a favor?”

Anya brushed non-existent crumbs from her long, flowing gown before meeting my eyes. She looked nervous.

“I’d like to join you during your mandatory delve, if you don’t mind,” she said hesitantly. “Lance is drawing close to the end of his lifespan, and I’d like to ascend with him, if possible. We can extend things for a few centuries, but he’s already had several rejuvenation treatments, so…”

She didn’t have to finish the sentence for me to understand. There was a limit to the effectiveness of such treatments, especially for those without a Time affinity. It was almost like the body built up a resistance to such manipulation.

It wasn’t quite that since other types of Time spells still worked for someone, even after rejuvenation failed, but it was similar enough.

Those of us with an affinity for Time magic were a bit of an exception, which probably contributed to groups like the former Sovereignty Sect’s hostility toward us.

“I won’t be a burden, I promise,” she continued when I didn’t immediately respond. “I have Tier Nine manatech to compensate for my lack of personal offensive capability, and my Fate magic can be really helpful, especially in puzzle rifts. There aren’t a lot of those because they’re so unpopular, but I’ve been to the Tier Nine one here on Sira a few times. It’ll probably be easier than challenging a normal rift.”

I could tell that she was being sincere, but I was a little confused by the request.

“I don’t understand. Surely, you have plenty of people willing to help you level,” I said.

Anya looked away sheepishly.

“I do, but the benefit of delving with them won’t be nearly as significant as joining you,” she admitted. “For one, the Council insists that I never enter a rift with less than a full five-person team. If we go together, we’d only need to split the experience between the two of us.”

I could tell there was another reason, so I remained silent until she continued. It didn’t take long.

“Also,” she said slowly, still not meeting my eyes, “rifts often base their rewards on the challengers. If we challenge the Tier Nine puzzle rift together, there’s a high likelihood that the rift will drop a particularly valuable reward… something I desperately need.”

“What reward is that?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine there was something that the wife of a Pinnacle Council member couldn’t acquire.

Several seconds passed before she quietly said, “An experience booster.”

My eyes widened at the revelation. Experience boosters were practically legendary. In fact, they were legendary-rated artifacts if rumors were to be believed.

I’d never seen a real experience booster before; I’d only heard of them as part of stories. Most believed they were little more than fairy tales.

The idea of an item that could double, or even triple, the amount of experience gained by the user went directly against everything I knew about enchanting and the system. Maybe Master or Grandmaster Enchanters knew the secret, but I doubted it since I was sure I would have at least heard about such an enchantment.

Then again, it was possible they were rare rift rewards that were impossible to reproduce. Such items were known to appear.

“That’s real? You saw it in one of your visions?” I asked, getting a little excited.

Anya nodded. “I only encounter it if we challenge the rift together. It never appears for anyone else.” Her pleading eyes met mine. “I’ll never progress fast enough to ascend with Lance without it. Every other approach ends with failure. Either I die by overreaching, or I’m left behind. He’s already spending his free time on Locus to offset the time dilation.”

I pursed my lips as I contemplated her request.

I obviously wouldn’t have access to the reward without her, but just giving up something so valuable seemed wrong. Using such an item could cut my time in the dungeon down by half or more. It would save me decades, at least.

“Can we both get one?”

Anya jerkily shook her head. “No. No matter how many times we delve the rift, we’ll only ever receive one,” she said tearfully. “I know it isn’t fair to ask, but I swear I’ll make it up to you. I’ll even give it to you once I reach the Pinnacle.”

“You don’t plan on having kids?” I asked, a little surprised by the offer. Most would want such a treasure to go to their offspring, not a mere acquaintance.

“Not in this realm,” Anya replied with a hint of sadness. “If we did, I’d either miss most of their lives because I was too busy trying to catch up to my husband, or I’d have to give up on ascending with him. Most people wouldn’t care about something like that, but ours isn’t a temporary marriage. We’ll have time for such things in the next realm,” she said confidently.

I wasn’t sure how she could be so certain when she’d already admitted that she couldn’t get more than a glimpse of the next realm. Almost all of her knowledge on the topic came from external sources.

Then again, maybe a glimpse was all she needed to know something like that.

I ultimately agreed to Anya’s request since it wasn’t like I could get the artifact on my own. At least this way it would be of use to my family members once Anya was done with it.

I planned to have a system-enforced contract drawn up to document our agreement, but there wasn’t any real hurry. Besides, I think Anya knew that having such a thing already prepared would have been showing her hand a bit too much.

= = =

After leaving Anya’s home, I teleported to the closest Adventurers’ Guild and scheduled the delve. I registered it as my mandatory delve since I had no plans to enter any other Tier Nine rift during my break from the dungeon.

Nothing prevented me from doing so, but I had better things to do during my limited vacation than spend it delving.

That might change if I suddenly found myself bored and without anything to occupy my time, but I doubted it would come to that. There were worlds to explore and plenty of things to see.

After verifying my slot for two standard-weeks later, I submitted an update for the SEF quest.

Since escaping from the rift, I’d located and marked eight new planets that met the Space Exploration Force’s guidelines. It would probably be decades before any of them were surveyed, but that wasn’t something I was concerned about.

“You found five new Tier Five and Tier Six worlds?” the elven clerk asked with raised brows. “And all of them are habitable?”

“Yes. Is that so odd? It’s what the SEF said to focus on,” I replied, unsure about the clerk’s reaction.

“Right, but that’s still an unusually high number. Even our best Space Mages struggle to find mid-tier worlds. Tier Fours aren’t that rare, I guess,” the elf corrected herself. “But Fives and Sixes are uncommon. This is going to cause a stir.”

“Can you keep my name out of it?” I asked awkwardly. The last thing I needed was more attention.

“What? Why would you—” Her body froze as her eyes focused on the screen. I could easily imagine what it was she was seeing.

Proving me right, the clerk haltingly said, “You’re—you’re the new tri-affinity mage.”

She wasn’t yelling, but her surprise caused her voice to carry. A few whispers started behind me. The clerk clearly didn’t notice since she was too busy focusing on the screen.

“Holy Ascenders! Your primary affinities are ridiculous! You are just a point away from having two exceptionals!” This time, her volume did qualify as a yell.

I cringed at the outburst, and the elf gasped and covered her mouth. Her expression was one of horror.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to say that!”

The murmurs grew louder. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the building had heard the clerk’s exclamation.

“Yiris!” a deep voice bellowed from the top of the stairs behind the clerk. “In my office!”

The elf’s face went pale, and her hands started shaking. She looked at me pleadingly, “I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to say anything. Please don’t file a complaint.”

There was another shout from upstairs, causing the elf to flinch.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked. Her voice was filled with dread.

“No. I don’t need anything else.”

I wasn’t angry at the elf’s blunder, but I was certainly annoyed. While someone’s affinity was often obvious, even without an inspection spell, the details of one’s affinities were supposed to be kept private outside of an awakening ceremony.

Even then, awakening crystals only gave a general gauge of strength. They did not share precise measurements.

By mentioning that I was only a point away from having two exceptionally rated affinities, the clerk had shared far more than would ever be considered appropriate.

I could only imagine what headaches the breach in privacy would cause me. It was already hard enough for me to go out in public without a disguise. If the information spread – which it was bound to do – it would draw a whole new level of interest.

My stomach clenched at the thought, and I didn’t feel quite as bad for the elf as she trudged up the stairs with her shoulders slumped.