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There was a bit more work needed on the warehouse than Krow and Buri could get done in a day.
So after a morning of doing quests, Krow returned to the warehouse. The basic warehouse enchants – preservation, security, cleaning, were intact but lacked power.
Charging them was needed before he could transfer materials from Nyurajke. That meant opening a crate of ethermica.
As the building sucked the magic from the ethermica cubes, Krow practiced using two revolvers.
It wasn't going well.
A gun skittered across the stone floor of the warehouse, as he instinctively moved like usual then rapidly tried to correct. That was the tenth time. Or eleventh. Was it twelfth?
Krow exhaled hard, walked to pick up the revolver.
The rhythm of using and reloading two revolvers in battle – he just couldn't find one.
Especially since the second revolver was holstered in the small of his back, keeping the butcher knives strapped to his left leg.
He'd tried swapping, placing the knives on his back and the second revolver on his left hip. That was even worse. For some reason, his DEX fell by five points when he did that.
What even was the use of giving Dual Wield if it knocked points off the stat that gave it in the first place?!
Krow holstered both guns, face dark.
It was the belt-cylinders.
He'd tested, and it was only when the original cylinders were installed on the guns that the five-point loss disappeared.
But unless he found cylinders of the same shape and size as the originals that held as many bullets or more as the belt-cylinders, the belt-cylinders stayed.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtThere was nothing on the Bourse, so until then, he had to practice dual wielding with one revolver in a back holster.
He took a deep breath, let it go.
Ignoring the second revolver, he fell into the single-revolver rhythm he'd gotten used to. He squeezed the trigger. Click-click-click-click. Thumbed the decoupling switch, caught the cylinder as it fell, flicked it into the speed-inventory, replaced with another clip, installed, then click-click-click-click, restart the whole thing.
Then again.
The motions were nearly automatic. Krow calmed. Stopped. Holstered the revolver. Drew it, made his motions slower.
Click-click-click…
Sixteen shots, holster. Drew the second; sixteen shots, return. Reload the first, then shoot, reholster. Reload the second, shoot, reholster. Draw the first, reload and shoot. Draw the second, the same. Double re—gah!
A revolver dropped.
It was only the first day, he consoled himself. He picked up the gun.
Click-click-click…
He practiced until long after the sun went down and he had to light a few lamps, taking breaks to add more ethermica to the building enchants.
It was halfway to moonset when the building lamps turned on, glowing a cheery orange.
Krow startled, and a revolver once again skidded across the stone-tiled floor.
Weeping skies, what the hell.
He retrieved the revolver, looked up.
Some of the warehouse lamps were busted, but enough were lit to see right up to the ceiling three levels up.
The lights were a pretty minor enchant. Them turning on meant the rest of the warehouse magics had been charged already.
Krow holstered his gun and jogged to where the main power conduit was exposed.
One hundred seventy-two cubes of ethermica, just to charge the building enchants. How much was used in its creation?
No wonder a warehouse was so expensive.
He stepped onto the open lift, pulled a lever. The pulleys creaked, but the lift started to rise. The hours spent oiling the mechanics and changing the ropes were well spent.
Like the other warehouses Buri showed him, it was three levels, with a domed top.
The ground level and the second level were empty, suitable to stack crates in. The shelves on the third level weren't as many as there had been, but what remained was workable. Krow got out.
The fourth level, right under the dome, could only be accessed by stairs. He blinked at the light from above. It looked like the dome was made of some sort of semi-opaque crystal or glass. The light of Enilhadrad filtered through, creating an almost fairy-like atmosphere.
Krow pulled a lever, curious. The lights snapped on, adding the color of flame to the milky filtered moonlight.
He turned the lights off.
This level wasn't connected to the enchants on the lower floors?
He'd have to ask Buri what it was for.
He took the lift back to the first level, having thought of something.
This was an herb warehouse.
There should be a basement level. Some herbs only kept their potency if stored in the dark.
Krow examined the walls of the first level, passed a hand over carvings and murals. Then the floors.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmCould the entrance be outside?
He circled the warehouse, a lamp held high. Part of the building was built into the cliff. But a basement entrance should be at the first level…right?
Nothing on the outer walls.
He looked around.
The front of the warehouse was a paved terrace, which ended in a balustrade and stone steps - stairs going upward to the village proper, and downward to the herb-field paths and the foot of the cliff.
Across from the doors, leaning over the balustrade, was one of the purple-leafed trees in he'd seen in the highland wilds. Buri called it a morningstorm tree.
It spread over half the terrace. He eyed it quizzically. Cutting it down would've given the warehouse more space for loading and unloading.
He stepped under its leafy shade, reached for a branch to climb. A pleasant scent tickled his nose, fragrant. The leaves emanated the scent of flowery spring even deep into the summer.
Refreshing.
Click.
Krow cursed and jumped back from the stone he stepped on to boost himself upward. What was it with draculkar and their love for ground-based activation mechanisms?!
The grinding sound from somewhere below was nearly anti-climactic.
Krow cautiously leaned over the balustrade, lowering the lamp.
One level below, on the cliffside veiled by the spreading branches of the morningstorm tree, there was a door revealed.
Krow vaulted the balustrade, landed on the small ledge.
This couldn't be the actual basement entrance?
There wasn't even any path that led to the door!
He tapped his bracelet on the lock.
It clicked open.