Invent (The Completionist Chronicles Book 7)

  INVENT

  The Completionist Chronicles Book Seven

  DAKOTA KROUT

  Copyright © 2022 by Dakota Krout

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my tiny new deadline, Michael Krout.

  CONTENTS

  Acknowledgments

  Newsletter

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  About Dakota Krout

  About Mountaindale Press

  Mountaindale Press Titles

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to all of my supporters, especially those that have been here since the beginning.

  To my Patreons, thank you for wanting to be the first to have eyes on the work, and for giving me tips to make it all better.

  Finally, to William Merrick, Samuel Landrie, and Zeb Foltz… thank you for doing so much, and asking for so little in return.

  NEWSLETTER

  Don’t miss out on future releases! Sign up for my newsletter to stay up to date. And as always, thank you for your support! You are the reason I’m able to bring these stories to life.

  PROLOGUE

  “The Lord of Slaughter took the field, his first intervention in half a century culminating in the losses of the Ninth Celestial Army of Light, five Shaper High Councilors, as well as one Shaper Scion: The Lady of Light, Elfreeda.” The Elf lifted his eyes from the document, but not to the person he was speaking with. He had been granted the authority to speak to the Ascetic, but certainly not enough to look at her. “This concludes the report.”

  Silence filled the air, and sweat poured down his regal Elven face as he waited patiently for the Ascetic to either ask him questions or dismiss him. Several hours passed as the ultimate ruler of the Elves pondered deep thoughts. Her melodious voice eventually moved through the intervening space⁠—at the same moment, a breath of fresh spring air swept through the open windows⁠—and reached his ears.

  “There is more.” Those three words from her lips were enough to cause direct damage to the waiting Elf, passing effortlessly through the barrier spell he had prepared specifically for this occasion. Blood erupted from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. In the same instant, he was healed by her divine presence; the Ascetic fully understanding the impact her words would have on his physical form. “The light is shining ever brighter… but darkness has swept through the Oligarchy to counteract it. How is it possible that those godless Dwarves…? Ah… I see.”

  This was the second reason the regal male Elf didn’t dare raise his eyes. To the uninitiated, it would appear that the Ascetic was speaking to herself, but the true fact was that the pantheon of Elven Deities spoke to her directly. Often, they would even physically manifest in this bare room, and laying eyes on a vengeful deity was simply begging to be returned to the light in the same moment.

  As the Ascetic’s voice rose again, it was muted; the dulcet tones were sung by the stone below, so that he felt the words instead of being sliced apart by the flesh-shattering force of her breath. “The humans. Much has changed. The Dwarves even now have a burgeoning pantheon which has begun multiplying the troop readiness of their people. It appears that they have been far more… enthusiastic with their recruitment and integration efforts. Tell me why you think they have been more successful at this… why your failure has begun to turn the warscape to their advantage.”

  “This servant has failed you.” The Elf leaned forward, kowtowing with his head against the stone, as though this task that mere recruiters had been burdened with had instead been a personal and intentional crime. “The humans are… resistant to the teachings of the Theocracy. They have strange desires, such as rising through the ranks or gaining access to restricted knowledge based on their completion of quests alone. It was determined that the tasks they perform, which any Elf would be filled with joy to accomplish, are insufficient for such advancement and enlightenment.”

  “It is not unknown that they come from outside of Eternium.” The Ascetic’s voice could never be called impatient, nor anything other than perfect and measured, but there was still something that set the waiting Elf on edge. “Here are my teachings, Ecclesiarch. Prepare to receive them.”

  Utter delight filled the second-highest ranked Elf in the entire nation. It had been more than a century since the Ascetic had issued an edict. His hours of waiting had absolutely been worth it. The King of the Elven nation, known to his people only as the Ecclesiarch, lifted his head fractionally from the hard stone floor of the small cave as a prophecy and successive orders filled his very being.

  “Havoc has been unleashed; his soul-deep longing has been completed. The Lord of Slaughter taking to the field is a harbinger of great destruction in the months to come. Even worse… for the first time in centuries, he has taken a True Apprentice.” Here the Ascetic trailed off momentarily, and the King’s face twisted in disgust as her next words explained why. “Keeping to the old ways will usher in the destruction of our people, culminating in our nation being overrun with Dwarven influence. At this time, by my decree, all locks on knowledge will be assigned a value that can be paid, and the key to unlocking them will be the destruction of our enemies or the empowerment of our people.”

  “You… we are to follow in the footsteps of the Dwarves? Let the humans gain access to the highest levels of knowledge, just so that we can defeat this age-old foe?” The King gaped as he tried to wrap his mind around this command. “I just don’t understand.”

  “Do you need to understand… to obey?” The King was flung back as divine mana suffused the air. “I tell you now, they will gain our knowledge. It is our choice whether that is through mighty deeds or terrible crimes committed against us. It has been seen.”

  The King, th
e Ecclesiarch, King and Head of the Elven Theocracy, simply returned to pressing his head to the stone floor, shivering in terror. “It will be as you have spoken.”

  “One last thing.” The Ascetic allowed the King to breathe through his shakiness and find a semblance of calm before finishing her thought, “Find the best of the humans. Pull them close to the Theocracy. Give them everything they’ve ever wanted or needed, and ensure that they will remain true to the Elven cause. They must work to the benefit of the Elven people… no matter the cost.”

  The image of a man in a trenchcoat⁠—a human who had earned rank through a style of combat⁠ hitherto unknown to the Theocracy—flashed through the King’s mind, and he nodded fractionally. “I already know exactly who to contact.”

  “Then go, and prepare yourself to atone for your impudence.”

  CHAPTER ONE

  “You mean to tell me that you think we can fit three thousand different buildings in this area?” Joe stared down at the map the city planner had handed him with eyes full of suspicion. “How in the abyss did you come up with that number? You’re full of it.”

  “It’s simple, human.” Ciril, the city planner, answered flippantly as he sharpened a chisel. “When buildings are higher tier, they take up less space. More bang per building, as you humans say. Less clutter. This is the reason why it is so important to rank up your town into a city and start making improvements⁠—in the correct order.”

  “We can discuss that, but how are we supposed to pull in those kinds of resources?” Joe impatiently demanded, tapping the map that detailed very high-Tier buildings clustered around the Pharaoh’s Pyramid of Panaceas, the Artifact-ranked alchemy building whose recent creation had saved thousands of troops in the Dwarven Legion from drowning in magma. “You’re planning this out as though we’re going to be able to push this whole section into Unique or better… how?”

  “Candidate… I just plan the city. I don’t do logistics to make it come together,” Ciril scoffed as Joe’s bald head began reddening. The human took a few deep breaths, remembering that calm words returned better results. “After all… it’s not my fault you used all the resources from capturing this place to fix your mistakes instead of making the place less of a shh—hello there, Major General Havoc!”

  Joe turned to look at Havoc, who seemed to be dead tired and wobbling on his feet. More smoke was coming off his beard than usual, the gray hair slowly turning to ash. “Ciril. Civilian Ciril, who was hired to do this job, perhaps you should make an effort to actually do the job correctly. Just because you aren’t in the Legion doesn’t mean I can’t pull you up on charges for negligence. You don't wanna work for humans? That’s fine. I’m sure some other city planner would literally slit your throat for the chance to plan an entire city from scratch, but you can just give them the job instead.”

  “S-sir, that’s not-” Ciril nervously tossed his chisel from hand to hand, glancing between Havoc and Joe, “-necessary. Not necessary, sir. I’m more than happy to do this. I just suppose I hadn’t taken the… lack of resources into account.”

  “Look at it this way.” Havoc pointed at the map, detailing parts and circling sections Joe hadn’t even looked at yet. “That can be a Tier-five City plan. Get him one through four, and earn yourself five times the experience by starting from a town and expanding outward accordingly.”

  “Oh. Oh.” The oddly owlish Dwarf blinked at the map, his demeanor resolving into craggy smiles and excited squirming as plans started flowing through his mind. “Oh, I like that.”

  “Before you go…” Havoc used his lit cigar to circle a section of the map, nearly a quarter of the entire area, then put a burning ‘X’ over it. “Section that off as workshops for Joe and myself. Don’t wanna destroy the entire city if things go bad.”

  “What could you possibly need all that-” Ciril started to huff, then froze as he remembered who he was talking with at the moment. “I’ll, uh, see that it happens.”

  “Good. I’ll review the next option before you present it to Candidate Joe over here,” Havoc informed the man with a toothy threat-smile. Joe expected Ciril to pale, but the Dwarf simply nodded distractedly as he pulled out a fresh parchment and began drawing on the spot. “Don’t worry, Apprentice. You’ll learn to bargain with their greed, and not their logic. There’s a reason our nation is ruled by Oligarchs and not charities. Now walk with me.”

  They began to stroll toward the Pyramid, waving at a few people as they went. The area as a whole was subdued and near-silent, but not in a bad way. There was just practically no one living in it yet. Those that remained in the region were simply a skeleton crew, a token force meant to hold the campground against medium-sized wandering monsters. Joe eyed the prolific rubble that remained, all that was left of the tightly-designed Elven fortress that had once stood here, muttering his thoughts aloud. “I gotta get started on fixing this place up.”

  “No, you need to do much more than that. You gotta reinforce it, set up traps, get some rituals going, and begin building a full-blown militia,” Havoc rattled off, much to Joe’s surprise. The curmudgeonly Dwarf whom he had needed to provide with terrifying results for just a fragment of information was now offering advice rapid-fire? It was very welcome, just… strange. “You’re gonna have an interesting time. Building up a town is a whole different volleyball match than we’re used to doing. Dwarves, Elves; neither have built a full town, much less a city, in half a millennium. Gets killed off too fast. Mostly just forts for the last few… centuries.”

  “You don’t build towns? Is that a ‘war’ thing?” Joe wondered as they paused and leaned on a pile of rubble just the right size for lounging.

  “Kinda. Far as I know, each of the different zones, planes, or whatever you wanna call ‘em, comes with different challenges for constructing cities or towns.” Havoc offered a cigar, which Joe turned down in favor of not getting sick or possibly turned into a golem. “Here, on Svaltarheim, when you start to tier up a settlement, the other side gets notified. They have a certain amount of time to destroy the place and gain rewards as though it were a tier higher. Busting down a camp that got too big for its britches and tried to become a hamlet? That gets paid out like they killed an entire village, savvy? That only gets worse the higher up you go in the tiers.”

  “I see.” Joe considered the town his guild had purchased for a moment. “Couldn’t tell you what it was like back on Midgard. I wasn’t in charge of it, even though I was directly responsible for getting a Town to Tier one.”

  “Oh? How would you say that turned out for you?” Havoc questioned him mischievously.

  “It was fine, I… ah. I see. Yeah, I kicked off a war that Shattered the Wolfman race, and accidentally committed a war crime that got me banished for a year.” Joe chuckled ruefully along with Havoc. “I see your point. There must’ve been some benefit to the Wolfmen to make them drop everything else and come running.”

  “Good self-reflection. On that note, here’s a question for you.” Havoc took a long draw, then spoke along with a cloud of hot pink smoke. “Now, you’ve got good skills. You’re powerful, draw people to you, and seem to make for a pretty good leader. Feces for a Charisma score, though. Tell me, why weren’t you in charge of the area on Midgard when it got attacked? Why were you putting in that effort to build the place for someone else?”

  Joe shifted uncomfortably on the stone ‘bench’. “I prefer being able to focus solely on the things I like to do, I suppose. You know, I actually have a land claim token and noble title on Midgard, and I never got around to using them?”

  “Huh.” Havoc nodded in understanding. “Well, I can tell you that you’d better get used to not running around and making a nuisance of yourself. We’re gonna work out a proper training program for you. We’ll improve your strengths and shore up your weaknesses. Now, are you opposed to working toward golemancy? I’d say that your biggest flaw when it comes to crafting is detail work at a very fine level. All the support skills for the class give
a pretty wicked boost to dexterity.”

  “While that sounds… amazing, to learn that from a Grandmaster in the field…” Joe shook his head and decided to spill his thoughts out in a rush. “I just have so many other things I want to do. I’d absolutely love to learn more enchanting, or anything like that. I just think that perhaps golems aren’t my style?”

  Havoc shrugged and waved someone over. “No hair off my teeth. Listen, you know Captain Cleave-”

  “Yes.” Joe cut the Dwarf off before he could say the Captain’s actual name. “We’re well acquainted at this point, but I think she was supposed to leave for-”

  “Nope, she’s here. I reassigned her as your escort, ‘cause you have a bad habit of doing strange human things, like ignoring orders from Major Generals and yelling at people that outrank you. Her job is gonna be to make sure you don’t do something to tank your career and get chucked off a cliff without being properly warned that you’re about to castigate the wrong person.” The grizzled Dwarf cut off as Captain Cleave arrived and saluted. “Good to see you, Captain. Joe, too bad about the golemancy, but if sculpting and other physical skills get in the way of completing your class quests, I understand.”