Unlimited Isekai and Other Unfortunate Magic

Dave looked down at his token, the numbers [-16S, 8Co] glaring back at him. Seven hundred silver might as well have been a million for all he could afford it.

Garret's gray face remained impassioned as he spoke. "You can work it off for the smithy. I've got a few collared here already, see?"

Following Garret's gesture, Dave's gaze drifted to the back of the forge where a few other collared worked tirelessly, their faces etched with weariness.

Dave recalled the collared crowgirl in the silver robe, her desperate eyes, the forced wide smile.

"I... I think I need some time to think about this," Dave said. He reached for his backpack, shoving the Felislice corpse back inside.

Garret shrugged. "Suit yourself. But I'm the best at this job, you know. Seven hundred is pretty cheap, all things considered. You're good at fetching these metal bugs, so if you hunt some occasionally, plus work the forge, you'd work it off in two years, tops."

Dave nodded noncommittally, already backing towards the door. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks for the... information."

As he reached for the door handle, Garret's deep voice called out from behind, "Don't wait too long, adventurer. Those flakes won't stay small forever. You've got two, maybe three weeks at most before it'll be too late to get them out.”

Dave mumbled a hasty goodbye and practically fled from the smithy.

With a weary heart, he wandered through the bustling streets of Shandria, his mind a whirlwind of worry. The colorful tents and enchanting displays that had once captivated him now seemed like a blur due to his dire situation.

"What am I going to do, Sherlock?" he thought, reaching out to the phantom detective in his mind. "Seven hundred silver..."

The violin in his soul played a thoughtful melody, its notes conveying a sense of calm deliberation. As Dave listened, he felt his panic begin to subside, replaced by a more rational assessment of his options.

"You're right," he thought. "Panicking won't solve anything. We need to think this through logically. Could the Dvaliss smith have lied about this living metal? Who could even confirm his words?”

As Dave mulled over his limited options, Sherlock's violin seemed to suggest consulting someone he knew.

"Cedez?" Dave thought, raising an eyebrow. "You think we should go back to her?"

The violin's melody intensified.

Dave sighed. "I don't know, Sherlock. Can we really trust her?"

The violin played a series of staccato notes that seemed to say, "Do we have a choice?"

After a bit of hesitation, Dave nodded. "You're right. She might be our best shot. At the very least, she owes me some answers."

With a sense of resignation, Dave made his way through the city, retracing his steps to the Adventurers Gate. As he passed through the gate, he could see the Cambria Snail Cafe looming ahead, the whimsical shell-shaped structure standing out against the backdrop of orange fields, other carts and distant glacier mountains that rose up and up across the infinite horizon.

Before approaching the cafe, Dave paused, closing his eyes, pushing everything into Wisdom. He hoped this would give him the insight he needed to navigate whatever Cedez was.

As Dave approached the cafe, he noticed that the foxgirl was nowhere to be seen. Instead, two other maids flitted about, serving customers.

Dave took a seat at an empty table, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of the fox. Instead, a snow-white owlkin approached him, dressed in black and white maid outfit. Her large, amber eyes regarded Dave with warmth. He frowned, as this wasn’t the maid he was looking for.

"Welcome to the Cambria Snail Cafe!" the owlgirl greeted him. The white feathers on her head bristled slightly as she spoke. "I’m Hyrei! How can I serve you? Our snail cake special is particularly delightful today, infused with the essence of moonberry and..."

Dave cut the maid off, "I'm sorry, but I'm actually looking for Cedez. Is she here today?"

"Ah," she said. “Yes, I see that you’ve already got a favorite maid here. Unfortunately, she’s off shift now. So, what will it be?”

Dave shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not looking for lunch," he said. "I just need to speak with Cedez. It's… important."

“How important?” The cafe maid tilted her head.

“Very,” Dave said.

“Fine, fine,” Hyrei said with a small huff. “Let me fetch her. One minute.”

In a few minutes, Cedez emerged from behind the cafe, dressed in a fluffy white robe over what looked like a dark mesh of sparkling blue diamonds. Her silver-blue eyes lit up when she spotted Dave, and she waved him over.

She led him around to the back of the snail, where a small, hidden patio awaited. A narrow staircase wound its way up the side of the shell.

"Up here," Cedez said as she began to ascend the stairs.

Dave followed. When they reached the top, they found themselves on a cozy rooftop terrace overlooking the bustling Adventurers Gate.

Cedez settled into a comfortable-looking chair, motioning for Dave to do the same. "I must say," she smiled, dark tail swishing lazily behind her, "I didn't expect to see you again so soon. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've got a problem," he began. "A big one. That Felislice I fought? According to Garret Dvaliss, it left some kind of... living metal in my blood. The blacksmith said it's going to grow into two more of them and burst out of my chest and take over my body... if I don't get it treated. Is that true?”

When Dave finished, she let out a dramatic sigh.

“Yes,” she said. “Dvaliss is a cheeky ass with many collared in his possession, but he is honest when it comes to that sort of thing. If he said that the Felislice infected you, then that's the case. Seven hundred silver is pushing it though."

“Damn it,” Dave's heart sank.

“This is simply the consequence of you not following through on my Quest, hero,” Cedez shrugged.

“Your quest is absurdly vague,” Dave pointed out, crossing his arms. "And now I won't even be able to complete it on the account of carrying Felislice twins!"

"How much time do you have?"

"He said two or three weeks," Dave replied.

"More than enough time!" She declared.

Dave simply stared back at her.

"Should I be adventuring and getting my level up or something? Will getting stronger naturally help me push the infection out of my body?"

"Mmmm... no. That won't work," Cedez shook her head. "As far as I can tell you're just moving really basic magic around and not really changing who you are conceptually on a physical level."

"Uhhh?"

"Think about the people you've met so far," Cedez said. "They're conceptually magical in some way."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning that conceptual alignment matters when you're fighting a magical infection. What you've got now is an infection trying to convert your non-magical human flesh into magic metal," Cedez explained. "The biggest problem here is that you've got no second or third magical alignment, no extra concept protecting you from forced conceptual conversion."

Dave frowned.

"See? Fox and Shadow," Cedez pointed at herself. "Remicra is Dragon and Pathosteel. Guild Secretary Antiqilla is Jellyfish and Water. Blacksmith Garret is Stone and Crystal. Hyrei is Owl and Wind. Etcetera. Only old, crusty, stubborn wizards like Murdoc or fancy-pants Highborns lack the extra alignment protection."

"How do I even get more alignment?"

"By inheriting the extra alignment from your parents or leveling up past level thirty and doing... a bunch of Theological stuff," Cedez waved a dark hand. "For which you really don't have enough time."

"So then what do you suggest?"

"Remember our darling Remicra?" Cedez purred.

Dave nodded. "Yes. What about her?"

"Weeeeell," Cedez drawled, "it just so happens that our scaly friend is not just a blacksmith. She's also a rather talented Metallomancer."

Dave's eyes widened. "So she could help me with the Felislice flakes?"

Cedez nodded. "She could."

Hope surged in Dave's chest, only to be quickly tempered by suspicion. "But there's a catch, isn't there? There's always a catch with you."

Cedez laughed. "Oh, you're learning fast, my darling hero. Yes, there is a catch. Remicra isn't exactly... fond of humans. Or anyone, really. She's not likely to help you out of the goodness of her heart."

Dave squinted at Cedez, suspicion creeping into his voice. "Did you... expect this to happen or something? Is that why you sent me to the lighthouse smithy to begin with?"

Cedez's lips curled into a sly smile. She leaned back in her chair.

"Maybe I did," she winked.

Dave frowned. He already deduced where this was going.

“If you want Remicra to dig those flakes out of your blood for free," Cedez paused for dramatic effect. "You'll need to win her heart and help her innate talent bloom."

"Win her heart?"

Cedez nodded, tracing a heart formed from dark smoke in the air with her fingers. "Yepperoni.”

She blew the shadowy heart at Dave's face and the smoke dispersed, making him cough and sputter.

"How does one go about winning the heart of a dragon who seems to hate everything, especially humans?" he asked, glaring at her.

Cedez shrugged nonchalantly. "That, my hero, is entirely up to you to figure out."

Dave's jaw clenched in frustration. "You can't just drop this on me and offer no help at all. You must have some advice, some insight into Remicra's character?"

“Nah.” The foxgirl leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "Where's the fun in telling you exactly what to do? Besides, I'm not the one with two ticking time bombs in my body. Your motivation should be plenty strong now without my meddling." She pretended to examine her sharp claws.

“Meddling?” Dave squinted at Cedez. “Why are you so insistent on me wooing Remicra? I'm beginning to suspect that you sent the damn Felislice after me!”

"Do I look like I breed Felislice in my backyard or something?" Cedez raised a dark eyebrow.

"Seriously, what is your game?" Dave demanded.

“Hmmmm… can't say,” Cedez made a zip motion on her lips. “Afraid that you haven't earned enough street cred with me to get such deep answers about the game.”

"What game?!"

"I didn't say anything about a game," Cedez shot back. "You were the one to imply that there's a 'game'."

Dave groaned. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Cedez grinned. "I prefer to think of myself as delightfully enigmatic. Now, if you're quite done whining, perhaps you should start planning a variety of grand romantic gestures? Chop, chop."