After the darkness and the hum of the capsule, Jack’s eyes fluttered open, and he was back in Ashengate, in New Earth.

  After over a week in the capsule, it was a little jarring to be met with bright morning sun. The real world was deep in night by now, and the shift in time zones between body and mind left him blinking in the golden light.

  The change of scenery did little to change where his mind was at. He opened his contact list.

  Holly’s name was grayed out. She usually slept for real on weekends rather than full-diving through the night. He couldn’t blame her. She did well to take care of herself—especially if she’d burned out before.

  He stared at her name for a few extra seconds, thumb hovering like he could will it to light up.

  But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

  His last hope of talking to Holly tonight went up in smoke. There was nothing he could do about it. He would just focus on the game instead, and wait for her to reach out.

  Amari was still in the base of operations. He could see him from where he stood, standing in the middle of the expansive patio. Most people preferred to linger in corners, but Amari didn’t seem to mind being right at the center. For a moment, Jack wondered if that said something about his personality.

  Horace and Rob were logged in, but nowhere to be seen. Marie was still offline.

  Sighing, he approached Amari.

  “Hey, Amari!”

  “Hi, Jack! How was your weekend?” he asked.

  “It was good, thank you,” Jack replied. “Yours?”

  “Oh yeah! The first Breach video is my most successful one yet! The channel’s exploding,” Amari said, eyes shining. Then, catching himself, he added more seriously, “But yeah—don’t worry, I actually took the weekend off, too. Practiced what I preached.”

  “Where are the others?” Jack asked.

  “Horace and Rob have already left toward Sunsgate. They’re getting everything ready with the caravan.”

  “Nice. Well, in that case, I’d better go get my father,” Jack said.

  “Oh—and take your bees with you now. Saves you the trip of coming back for them later.”

  “Thank you for the reminder,” Jack said.

  Jack crossed the distance between Amari and his bees in a few steps.

  His four pot hives stood slightly apart, arranged in a neat square. Against the wall leaned the [Splitwood Rod]. And hanging from it was a stoneware vase he’d crafted on Thursday. It had taken him several hours, but the result was worth it.

  The faint clink of ceramic against wood echoed softly with every breeze. It was its own kind of wind chime.

  The vase had a broad, rounded body with a tapered neck. Jack had left two holes on the neck to run rope through. He’d tied it to a part of the Rod where the wood bent just enough to hold a firm knot.

  As the breeze blew, the vase spun, showing the drawings on both its sides. He’d finally been able to use the synergistic recipes he’d unlocked after hitting Journeyman tier in his Brewing minor.

  On one side of the vase, he’d used the [Wax Resist] technique to etch the [Buzzing Carriers] pattern. It showed bees flitting between open flowers. The wax-resist technique had left the bees and flowers as a soft, sandy beige against a smoky celadon green background.

  The hardest part of the pattern had been making the bees. Even on a larger vase, the figures were tiny and required a precise hand.

  On the other side, he’d made his first-ever colored etching pattern: [Woodland Melodrama]. This one depicted bees floating among dense bushes. He’d used malachite glaze for the deep greens and iron red for the flowers, while turmeric yellow coated the bees, with pitch-black ash glaze for their stripes.

  He’d left the background with an unglazed beige, so that the field of one scene would match the lines of the other, creating harmony between the two.

  Out of the five vases he’d painted, only one had come out well enough. He’d kept reducing how thickly he applied the glaze, hoping that with less pigment, the colors wouldn’t muddle together. Finally, in the one with the least glaze, he’d succeeded. Sadly, as a result, the colors looked faded and worn. He’d have to ask Felix why this was the case.

  But the important thing was, in the end, this one was a success.

  Melodramatic Carriers Vase (Rare)

  Over the humble face of a stoneware vase, two works of art have been etched showing the tireless labor of bees.

  Crafting grade: C-

  Effects (within 10 meters of a hive):

  [The Buzzing Carriers] – Bees require half the pollen to make honey, can locate flowers from farther away, and harvest more nectar per bloom.

  [Woodland Melodrama] – Honey produced under this buff gains enhanced medicinal and culinary properties.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Innovating genius bonus: [Waxy Fortitude] – The vase does not lose durability as long as enough wax is present in nearby hives. Predators are less likely to approach.

  Though it wasn’t quite as powerful as the epic-grade [Splitwood Rod], its buffs were solid across the board. In a desert environment where flowers were few and far between, anything that let his bees stretch their foraging range and efficiency was a win. And while he hadn’t yet tested the honey produced under [Woodland Melodrama], the idea of boosting his cooking, brewing, and healing made him eager to try.

  Best of all, the vase wouldn’t lose durability because of his [Innovating Genius] bonus. It made a perfect match with the Splitwood Rod, so the decision was to tie the two together in one piece.

  Since learning about predators and diseases from Amari, the risks of scaling up had become a concern. More hives meant more income—but also more threats. The more buffs he could stack to protect his colonies, the better.

  “Alright. Time to face the music—and call the cavalry,” Jack muttered, planting his hands on his hips.

  Summon!

  Snowy appeared in a puff of smoke in the courtyard.

  “Snowy! Hi girl! How are you?”

  Catching sight of Jack, she grunted, turned her back to him, and let out a fart so foul it made Jack feel as if he’d just opened the door of a fridge full of rotten food. It made him want to gag.

  Snowy is pleased you remembered her.

  +5 affection

  Snowy is also deeply offended it took you this long to summon her.

  -20 affection

  Jack winced. One week without summoning her had really hurt her feelings. Instead of gaining affection for summoning his pet, he’d lost twenty points!

  “Come on, Snowy. Don’t be like that.”

  In response, Snowy let loose again. This one wasn't quite as potent, but it was longer. Strangely enough, the sound of it wasn't too different from that of Jack's blowing horn.

  Amari who had been standing in the middle of the patio walked—slowly and with great dignity—to the far door, opened it, and disappeared inside.

  Jack covered his nose, trying to endure the potency of Snowy’s gases. “Tell you what, Snowy. I’ll get you something really special to eat.”

  Snowy glanced over her shoulder.

  “It’s going to be delicious,” Jack added.

  That caught her attention. Snowy kept her back turned but lay down on her belly, as if inviting Jack to mount.

  They’d come to a peaceful agreement—at least for now.

  He hadn’t realized how much, between the Breach and the non-stop crafting, he’d been neglecting her. But now that he’d be venturing out into the desert and starting his own village that would change.

  Hopefully, Snowy could handle the heat. Jack eyed her thick coat of fur with concern—but didn’t dare say anything. No need to risk more affection points. Bad news could wait until she had a full belly.

  Hopefully, by the time they reached the desert, he’d have gained back the lost affection so she wouldn’t resent him too much for taking her there.

  One by one, he grabbed his pot hives and placed them on the saddle bags. Once all four were secured, he climbed on Snowy.

  With the rod slung over his shoulder and the vase attached to it by a rope, he nudged his heels.

  “Up, up,” he said.

  Snowy stood.

  He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the slow, steady rhythm of Snowy’s breath beneath him.

  Jack had Snowy go toward the gate meant for beasts and carriages to enter their base, yet another feature which Horace had taken into account when selecting this building.

  “Yo, Amari! Can you open the gate for me?”

  Amari cracked open the door. “Is Snowy done?”

  Jack laughed. “It’s safe.”

  Despite how powerful Snowy’s stench bomb had been—with all the torches burning nearby and it being outdoors—the stench had passed. Mostly.

  As Amari passed Snowy, he gave her a light pat on the head, to which she responded with indifference.

  “Amari, are you sure it’s okay for me to ride out like this? Shouldn’t I take more precautions?” he called out.

  “It should be fine, Jack. Monday is siege day. IronIre is going to be busy defending their territory. Once we start our village in the desert, IronIre’s going to know we’re there anyway. And honestly? I wouldn’t mind if word reached the Slayer. Let him know we’re on the move—and that he can’t do a thing about it. After what he pulled with the TP market… a little payback feels fair.”

  “Is that why you said we’d go to the desert today? Because IronIre has its hands full today?”

  Amari shrugged. “Maybe,” he said with a smile.

  Jack chuckled. Amari did think of everything.

  Amari pulled open the wooden bar keeping the gates together, and opened first one door, then the other.

  Jack rode out into the street. Despite Amari’s reassurances, he still tried to stick to the secondary roads as much as possible. But there were only so many backstreets wide enough to fit a sloth the size of a small elephant. It wasn’t long before he was on the main road.

  “Woah! Look at that mount! That’s insane!”

  “Is that a ground sloth, Vinny?”

  Snowy attracted a lot of attention from lower-level players, as usual. Thankfully, she was fast enough that it wasn’t long before he was in the slums and then out of the city.

  Outside the gates, he had Snowy climb a small hill—the very same one where he’d first looked down at Ashengate. He took in the view. It had only been a week but this city had become home. It was where he’d come up with the money to save his dad, and where he’d learned both tinkering and masonry.

  This was also where he’d spent a lot of time with Holly. The thought was bittersweet.

  He looked toward the part of the city where their base of operations stood. Just in case, they’d kept it rented under Horace’s name, stocked with a few sets of TP vases. If anything went wrong, they could always teleport back. A solid escape route.

  He turned Snowy northeast, heading back toward the farms. On the horizon, between properties, he spotted a small patch of woodland and directed Snowy there. As she saw the trees and the grass, Snowy grew excited—which, for Snowy, meant slightly less yawning and a faint glimmer of enthusiasm.

  Once they reached it, Jack dismounted and patted her side. “Go ahead. Feast at will, Snowy.”

  Snowy didn’t need to be told twice. She immediately set to work on the nearest tree. It cracked loudly under her weight, falling to the ground with a heavy bang. The trunk disappeared into Snowy’s mouth in moments. Jack watched as her satiation meter ticked up and he regained one point of affection.

  But it wasn’t just Snowy who was happy to be out of the city. Bees were pouring out of the four hives in droves. After being cooped up in backyards and patios, they were thrilled to be back in nature.

  To give them a little boost, Jack played Morning of Spring, granting them extra flying speed and resistances.

  Once he'd empowered then, Jack had the system play the samples of the new songs he'd learned over last week but had no chance to practice.

  Plushy Cacophony was a playful, bouncy march. The melody had a toy-like quality—light and springy, like it belonged in a parade of plush soldiers. Jack could almost hear a snare drum in his head keeping pace beside the ocarina’s high notes. The tune had a slightly squeaky edge, but that only added to the charm.

  Metal Whirlpool, on the other hand, was a completely different beast. Its melody rose and dipped in tight spirals, each note bending into the next. Playing it felt like spinning in place. The circular feel was unmistakable. Jack could see why it had earned its name.

  Before long, Snowy had leveled the patch of trees, turning it into a wasteland. While his father could heal land, Snowy apparently had the power to destroy it.

  Once Snowy hit the road, Jack began practicing the two new songs.

  Under the morning sun, Jack rode Snowy toward the coordinates his father had given him. For the first time since he’d left the train station, something other than Holly occupied his thoughts.

  His dad. What was it going to be like to play with him?