Libriohexer (Wolfman Warlock Book 2) - Chapter Twelve

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Dizzy protested weakly. “Chicken Farming has nothing to do with books or paper or ink or magic.” She spoke slowly as though explaining a simple concept to someone with a serious head injury. How many fingers am I holding up? One or two?

“Then why is it an option for my Specialization selection?” Sam shot back. “All of those Professions are supposed to help with my Specialization and Chicken Keeper is in there for a reason.”

“Yeah, as a Joke,” Bill replied, the disbelief evident in his tone. “Not sure if you’ve noticed but the resident quest giver has a wonky sense of humor. That’s why it’s an option, because it’s funny, not because it’s a good option.” He sighed in exasperation. “I mean seriously. What possible reason could you have for wanting to be a Chicken Keeper? Am I dumb or just not seeing the connection? And before you speak, remember that I’m a three-hundred year old sentient book, so dumb isn’t actually an option on the table.”

“You already bought up the reason,” Sam said. “Resources. Libriohexers need a lot of them.”

“I’m sorry,” Kai offered, raising his hand, “but, like, what exactly is a Libriohexer? Also, anyone know where I can get some popcorn? Because I totally just want to sit back and watch this meltdown happen.”

“Maybe once I get my chicken farm up and going, I’ll look at growing corn,” Sam joked.

“Har, har,” Bill grunted. “Real funny guy, which is good because our life is about to become a giant joke. No one is going to respect us if we’re running around in overalls tending to a bunch of dirty chickens,” he grumbled under his breath.

Sam ignored Bill, answering Kai’s question. “Libriohexer is the first steppingstone on the path toward the Archivist Summoner. Basically, as a Bibliomancer, Bill and I can bind ourselves to books, which we use for spell casting, but as a Libriohexer I’ll start constructing an Interspatial Library, or a Portable Library, which will act as my new binding Totem.”

“Yeah, but it takes a ton of resources and time to build a proper Interspatial Library,” Bill protested weakly.

“You’re not wrong,” Sam said, “but once it's done, I’ll be a force of nature.”

“Ahem. We’ll be a force of nature,” Bill corrected. “And you’re not wrong either.”

“What’s so special about an Interspatial Library?” Dizzy asked.

“What’s so special about an Interspatial Library?” Bill choked out. “Are you kidding me? It’s one of the most powerful weapons known to Mage-kind. For one, Sam will have instant access to any knowledge stored within the Library and, for another, it will act as an interdimensional base that he can physically escape into. A proper Interpsatial Library will also drastically limit the amount of prep time we’ll have to do to cast our spells—though how that works is complicated.

“But that’s only the start. We’ll still have access to some formidable spellsfor personal protective use, but—as the title suggests—Archivist Summoners mostly focus on summoning abilities. And the things we summon are made out of paper, ink, and whole truckloads of magic. Hence the resource requirements. But once we’re done, we’ll be able to whip up an army of Origami nightmares to do our biding without a second thought. And as we construct the Sacred Geometrical Tiers of the Library, we’ll even gain insight into the nature of reality itself. With that kind of awareness, we will be able to augment body and mind—even unlock the secrets of planar travel and time itself.”

“Dude,” Kai said, sounding genuinely impressed. “Wicked.”

“Yeah,” Bill said vigorously. “Easily the most powerful of the Bibliomancer Specializations, but it’s hard to do with a capital H. And costly. We’re talking a hundred-thousand-gold worth of resources.”

Arow whistled through his teeth. “That’s almost a million dollars.”

“And unless I’m wrong,” Dizzy said, “you’re running low on funds at the moment.”

“Both good points,” Sam said, fingers stroking the egg. “Which is where this thing comes in. See, initially I was thinking about the Publisher Profession. I thought I could use that as a way to amass content for the Interspatial Library, but it’s too slow and as an Outlaw I’ll never have the connections to make it work. But after passing the Wisdom Threshold it all came together in my head. As a Chicken Keeper, I’ll be able to produce an almost endless amount of resources myself. Thanks to my Hair of the Dog Blessing, I have access to enchanted binding thread, and now I’ll have quills, custom vellum—which holds mana seventy percent better than even high quality parchment—and meat, which I can sell on the side. I’m telling you, this is a Bonafide resource farm.”

“But… But… I mean, yeah. Technically that’s correct, but fowl vellum isn’t even a thing.” Bill said, exasperated. “Chickens are too small to produce usable sheets. The best quality vellum is calf, sheep, or goat. Besides, even if you could make it work, the quantity we need would be impossible to produce—”

“Without a Husbandry Pen,” Sam cut him off. “And you’re right, chickens are too small and not of good enough quality. But we won’t be using regular chickens. Look around. We have a base with a Husbandry Pen. We can use it to spawn chickens at an incredible rate, plus they’ll be bigger, stronger, and faster than creatures produced outside of Pens. And, as a Chicken Keeper, I’ll be able to evolve them until they have magical properties. Eventually they won’t just produce meat, they’ll produce Monster Cores which we can sell or use for Experience. And think about creating Vellum out of a creature that is already imbued with Mana. This might not be the glamorous choice, Bill, but trust me. It’s the right one. I’m doing it.”

Sam focused on the egg in his hands and a prompt appeared.

You have acquired a Prime Brood Egg, containing a Prime Brood Matriarch. This item can be sold, hatched, or turned into a yummy skillet. Would you like to hatch this egg and unlock the Secondary Profession Chicken Keeper? Yes / No

Despite Bill’s enthusiastic protests, Sam didn’t have to think twice and accepted his new profession.

Profession Unlocked: Chicken Keeper

Congratulations! You have bonded with the Prime Brood Egg and unlocked the Secondary Profession, Chicken Keeper. Honestly, I did not see this coming, but hey you’re a weird egg yourself, so maybe I should’ve guessed. And sometimes weird even pays off.

Title Unlocked: Chicken Whisperer Level 1 (Upgradeable). Effect: Chickens just positively egg-dore you, you have +10 Charisma Bonus with all chickens and a +5 Charisma Bonus to fowls of all varieties. As you grow your brood, you can upgrade this title to a maximum of Chicken Whisperer Level 5—when it will transform into the Title Chicken King—unlocking additional upgrades at each level.

Husbandry Pen Bonus: Good News! Having access to a coveted Husbandry Pen comes with some serious bonuses. Increase Egg Laying Rate by 25%; Increase Egg size by 37%; Increase Overall Chicken Size (type, variable) by 24%; Hatcheries Refill 12% faster; Incubation time is reduced by 17.5%; Increases Harvested Egg and Meat Quality by 19.5%.

Warning! You have reached ten total titles: Stick it to the Man! High Five, I Tried! Budding Anthropologist, Bunny Reaper, Soul-Bound Level 2 (Upgradeable), Experimental Forger, Night Prowler, Warlock IV (Mandatory), Racial Traitor (Secret, Mandatory), and Chicken Whisper Level 1 (Upgradable). Please note that all title effects are active at the same time, but the title you have equipped will be the only one that others can see without analysis abilities. The maximum number of titles you can have at any given time is ten. Upon unlocking your next title, you will need to select one title to remove.

Profession - Chicken Keeper: The humblest of paths, the noble Chicken Farmer tends to the lowly fowl of land, raising a brood and keeping food on the dinner tables for the folk of Eternium. It’s a dirty job, no doubt, and hard work to boot. Why anyone would choose such a path is a mystery, yet there are rewards in store for those who master this profession: lots of scratches. Honestly, you’ll be lucky to keep both your eyes—these chickens can get ornery if not properly cared for!

Profession benefits at first level: The Prime Brood Matriarch will imprint on you and will be unwaveringly loyal! The Prime Brood Matriarch will respawn four hours after death and will naturally spawn successive generations of finger-licking-good chicken. Overtime, the Prime Matriarch Chicken will produce new Lesser Brood Matriarchs, who will also have the ability to respawn four hours after death. Chickens within your brood mature 25% more quickly than other chickens and each successive generation has a 7% chance of experiencing a naturally occurring beneficial mutation. Both overall egg size and egg laying rate is increased by 12%.

“Are you seeing this?” Bill asked rather morosely. “This sounds like a nightmare. What have you gotten us into, huh?”

“I’ve just nabbed us the keys to an Interspatial Library,” Sam said. “Trust me.”

For the next hour, the crew cleaned up from the battle, set the Husbandry Pen into working order, and talked about what they should do with the rest of the day. It was still early morning, the sun steadily working its way toward the noontime zenith, and no one wanted to burn extra daylight. They had too much to do, and too little time as it was. Taking on another Junction Keeper was probably a stretch, since they would only get increasingly harder, but another trip to the Totem Training Ground wasn’t out of the question. Dizzy was jonesing for a shot at the Constitution Totem, Kai wanted to experience whatever Sister Rat was serving up in the Perception Totem, and Arrow insisted he had a rematch with a disgruntled monkey’s uncle.

Finn and Sphinx were due back at some point today, though, so Sam opted to stay behind and wait for them just in case they happened to show early. He was dangerously low on resources, anyways—his three Shuriken Tomes were close to ‘E’ and his Papier Machine Mage Tome was completely devoid of pages. So, some long-overdue crafting was in order. Being a Bibliomancer was a double-edged sword in that way. Sure, he could spam spells like no one’s business during combat, all without ever running the risk of draining his mana reserve, but the flip side was that he needed to constantly prep materials beforehand.

In this case, however, it was a nice break in the action since all he really wanted to do was hatch his egg.

Velkan also decided to remain behind.

The wolfman said that he wanted to more closely explore the area surrounding the Irondown Burrows, but Sam suspected he had other motives. After rescuing Velkan from his captivity in the Mage’s College the Wolfman had formed an odd, unspoken bond with Sam. True or not, Velkan felt he had a blood debt to Sam and, as a result, the wolfman seemed oddly protective where Sam and Bill were concerned. Velkan rarely spoke about the debt, because acknowledging it would be to lose face—a grand sin in Wolfman Culture—but he was always near at hand and ready to help whenever Sam needed anything.

First, Sam took care of his new charge: the golden egg. Although he’d bounded with prospective Prime Brood Matriarch, the egg wouldn’t hatch without a little assistance.

The Husbandry Pen was humid and warm, but still not quite warm enough for the egg to hatch on its own. He had a plan for that, though. Sam tasked Velkan with gathering wood and tall grass from the surrounding forest, while he set about making a few warming stones. He collected a variety of smooth faced river rocks, each about the size of his fist, then rolled up his sleeves and got down to business. As a Bibliomancer, Sam primarily cast spells through the use of spell scrolls and tomes, but thanks to his specialty inks, penmanship skills, and his Coreless Spell Infusion ability, he could inscribe a spell on just about anything.

At least in theory.

He didn’t have the skills to engrave permanent spells onto things like armor or weapons—a least not yet—but it was relatively simply to imbue the stones with mana in the same way he prepared glass vials to hold infused ink. The next step was a little trickier. Under Bill’s watchful eye, Sam carefully traced a simple version of the Fireball spell onto each stone, then activated the Spell Form using his Coreless Spell Infusion ability. In principle, Fireball spells were basically mana batteries that, when activated, released all the stored mana as a single burst of flame and heat. But, with a little delicate finagling, Sam managed to tweak the rate at which the stones released that stored heat energy.

Instead of all at once, the energy bleed mana in a steady stream, filling the rock with a gentle warmth. Heating stones. By the time Sam was done with his impromptu crafting session, Velkan had returned with both arms full of smooth branches and piles of tall, green grass. Sam quickly formed the materials into a rough nest, stacking the wood to form a ring, then placed his heating stones in the bottom. He piled the grasses on top of the rocks, creating a downy bed, which gently cradled the weight of the golden egg. He piled more grass on top of the egg, obscuring it from view, and a timer popped up in the corner of his eye.

Incubation conditions met! Estimated time until Prime Brood Egg hatches: 23:21:15!

Note: Husbandry Pen has reduced the Incubation Period by 17.5%!

New Estimated time until Prime Brood Egg hatches: 19:21:15!

“I still think this is a terrible idea,” Bill grumbled, “but since it seems like you're committed, I’ll try to keep an open mind. I know we need to resupply, but since you’ve finally made up your mind about your specialization, I think it’s time I taught you a few new spells.”

“Wait, you’ve been holding out on me?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Eh, yes and no,” Bill replied. “Crossing the Intelligence Threshold let me remember some of my more powerful spells from the olden days, but I still didn’t have the Wisdom I needed to, one, teach you how to do them or, two, which ones I should teach you in the first place—especially since I didn’t know which Specialization you were leaning towards. Because of my background, I have access to a wide array of spells, but the types of spells you choose and the way you use them is what is going to push us toward one specialization over another.”

“So why not just teach me all the spells?” Sam asked, genuinely curious.

“Because magic is fickle and the way the spells interact with each other can be hard to predict. Plus, it takes a lot of time and effort to learn spells, and even if I taught you everything I could, it would take you ten lifetimes to master them. In my experience, being the master of a handful of powerful skills as far better than having access to a hundred options and sucking at all of them. Believe you me, we want to be masters of our craft. And I couldn’t even begin to nudge you in the right direction until you decided what you wanted to be when you grow up. So let me ask you one last time. Libriohexer. That’s the way you want to go? Because once we start down the road there’s no turning back.”

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. This was a huge choice, and this would be the most difficult possible path to walk, but it would also be the one that would offer the best reward in the end.

“Yes,” he said, feeling sure in his choice.

“Would it change your mind if I told you that I’m not one-hundred percent sure how to build an Interspatial Library? I know some of the theory, but it isn’t going to be cut and dry like the other specializations will. There’s going to be trial and error. A lot of it is going to be as new for me as it is for you.”

Bill’s admission gave Sam a moment of genuine pause. Bill was a seemingly endless fount of knowledge and confidence—he wouldn’t ever say he didn’t know something unless he had some very real reservations. And if Bill wasn’t sure what they would have to do, it could slow the process down significantly. Did that change anything? Running a Biblioblade Build would definitely be the easier option, and still extremely powerful within the context of the meta game. Spell Swords always were among Sam’s favorite classes to play. And yet…

Yet his gut told him this was the right thing to do.

“Even better,” Sam finally said, “because that way we really will be partners. I love how much you know, but this will let us forge a new path together. I don’t care if it’s hard. The things that are the hardest to accomplish are always the things that have the best payout in the end. I want to be a Libriohexer and ultimately an Arcane Summoner.”

Quest alert! A Librohexer Walks into an Interspatial Library…

Well you’ve finally made up your mind and decided to embark on the Path of the Libriohexer—getting your specialization isn’t gonna be a walk in the park, though, believe you me. In order to unlock your class specialization, you must discover the secrets of Interspatial Nodes and build one to call your own. Reward: Class Change, Libriohexer. Exp: 2,000. Accept / Decline

Mind made, Sam accepted.

“No turning back now. Buckle up Buttercup,” Bill said gravely, “we have some spells to learn.”

“Nice,” Sam replied with a wolfish grin, rubbing his hands together in greedy glee. He was already envisioning burying his enemies under a mountain of books or drowning them in rivers of ink. “I love my current spells, but it would be awesome to something that hits a little harder. I hate having to spam shuriken fifteen times to take down an enemy. I want something with one-shot potential.”

Bill laughed, the sound harsh and merciless.

“Slow down murder machine,” he said. “We’ll learn some nasty, hard hitting spells down the road, but we ain’t there yet. If you’d picked Biblioblade or Bibliognost we’d be having a different conversation. But no. You wanted to be a Libriohexer. The bigger spells that a Libriohexer can cast require the use of an Interspatial Library because they are material intensive. Spells like that require multiple tomes all working in tandem to cast. So, for the time being, we’re going to learn some practical, no frills utility spells. Things that are going to help us generate the material resources we need to make a Libriohexer build work in the long run. And before you complain, this is on you. Though, I suppose I can throw you a bone and give you one cool spell. No damage output, but it’s a showstopper in its own way.”

Sam sighed. He should’ve expected this. “What spells were you thinking?”

“The Libriohexer basics. Auto Writing, Transcription Twining, and Paper Homing Pigeon. Plus, one specialty spell that I built out just because it’s cool—but I don’t want to ruin the surprise. Now, I’ve used every single one of these and some of them have been extremely handy, especially since becoming bookafied. Not having hands is a major drawback when your primary spell casting ability revolves around writing spells and folding paper. Auto Writing is the only reason I can even make spells. And back before the College locked me up for sedition—these are the days when I still had a stomach—I used Paper Homing Pigeon to make all of my fast-food orders. Very convenient, though I supposed it probably has some other uses too. Anyway, you get the idea.

“I wish I had a book to give you,” he continued, “but unfortunately these spells haven’t ever been written down anywhere. They’re all stashed away in the ol’ noggin. Which means teaching them to you is going to be a trickery and probably painful process. But don’t worry, I’ll be there the whole way to guide you through it. Although again, to reiterate, it is absolutely going to hit you like a sledgehammer. Probably best if you take a seat and get comfy so you don’t fall over when I blow your mind with all my awesomeness.”

Sam rolled his eyes but did as he was instructed, plopping down on the floor and crossing his legs just like he did during his morning meditations.

“Good. I want you to breathe deeply and focus on your Mana pool. Cycle your power along your channels but try to keep your mind clear. I’m gonna walk you through a basic guided meditation.”

Sam shut his eyes, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the sound of his own heartbeat and blocking out every other noise. Immediately, he felt gentle warmth spread through his limbs as mana flowed from his center, first in a trickle, and then in a surging river. This particular technique was one that would burn out most novice magic users, but if he’d learned one helpful thing from the Mage’s College it was how to safely handle large amounts of mana. Sam banished the thought from his head and let himself be drawn back into his breathing. The process was almost second nature and in a matter of moments tension drained from his muscles.

<Alright, here goes nothing!> Bill cackled inside his head.