There is one strata of people who don’t belong to any of the awakened categories - the seers. From what I have witnessed personally, seers can be the most regular of non-awakened, their gift seemingly having nothing to do with mana. What is the source of their gift? Look into it. My skills tell me it’s important, but I failed to find the answer before leaving this legacy for you.

  — Excerpt from Notes For Newstar

  Day 1036, 2:30 PM

  “I believe it would be wise if you could check in this direction.” I gestured towards the horizon after checking the map. “Please examine the area thoroughly and come back in thirteen days. It has to be thirteen days. As we have agreed, you should neither come back too soon, but whatever happens, don’t be late. Do you understand, Lord Exalt?”

  The exalt nodded, and went off, leaving me in Threeriver, a small imperial city at the border between the summer and autumn kingdoms. My plan was simple, send the exalt out, have him mark the area he had explored, and use the map the next time, since I would know both the area he can search in thirteen days, and where he had searched before, so as not to double the work needlessly.

  We had only one problem. The man couldn’t fly at full speed through the jungle. Him flaring with his aura would provoke the more powerful manabeasts, and we would end up starting the onslaught. Technically, it was scheduled to begin any moment, but if we were the ones to start it and someone witnessed it, the imperial administration would have our hides, if not our balls.

  With thirteen days to kill and nothing to do, save to wait for the exalt, I went to the alchemists’ guild. I had Brand’s life’s work to recreate. We had discussed herbs and theories about his potion, and since he made it before he died in the original timeline I had disturbed, I could guess he finished it within the next decade or two.

  That’s assuming the cultists were looking for him because of the potion and not something else. Who knows, maybe he invented the anti-outer-god spray while looking for his cure?

  It was extremely unlikely, but not impossible. As for why they would mind the number of awakened surging, well, the cultists had to come from somewhere, and disgruntled failures seem like a good source of them. If you cut into that number, you’re directly decreasing the number of supporters the outer gods would recruit, cutting the roots of their organisations.

  I wonder if I could make a potion that increases the odds of someone awakening as a mageknight? And how do I even test the potion once it’s completed? Find a hundred people who failed and have them chugging an unknown, untested potion?

  Future problems, first-world problems…

  I went to the adventurers’ guild first, crippled my account balance, then went to the alchemists’ guild, where I rented their best lab, and converted my sparkling manarium crystals into herbs, powders, and minerals.

  I must admit, I missed alchemy. The bubbling flasks and bakers, the careful manipulation of flames, they all calmed the mind when you didn’t need to worry about success and failure. The fumes helped a bit, too. But I think my secret was not having any expectations from the end product and just casually hoping it works out.

  Thirteen days passed surprisingly quickly, with only two breaks for fine dining and sleep. Then, the exalt returned.

  “Do you mind marking the regions you have searched on this map, My Lord?”

  The man nodded, but instead of using my charred stick to draw the lines, a moment passed, and a portion of the map was lightly singed, its surface darkened.

  “I went twenty-two thousand miles deep into the weald. The map you have doesn’t cover nearly as much area, but you can infer it based on the darkened region.”

  I nodded, not the least bit impressed with his extreme control and precision. Instead, I took a new map, circled the area he had searched, then outlined another area next to it.

  “Do you think you can search this in thirteen days? Going twenty-two thousand miles deep?”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  He didn’t even glance at it and nodded.

  “Can you infer the area behind the map’s scope?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said with a patronizing look.

  “All right. Would you kill me or be offended if I said we have to go to a different imperial city right now?”

  He stared at me for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “If you have divined that this is the wrong place, we will go to the right place, but I will remind you that we are on a deadline.”

  “Thank you, My Lord.” He was surprisingly reasonable for a man with enough power to level mountains. “In that case, if you don’t mind, please explore this area next.”

  He vanished. No goodbyes, no having a drink or whatever, just off to do his part like a machine.

  Five loops passed with me making no progress with my alchemy, and the process slowly becoming boring. Explorer’s Gate’s master met no more success than I did, always completing what he believed was the first round of Summersweald surveillance.

  To break the routine, I went to the blacksmiths’ guild just to hammer at something and take my mind off of things.

  Maybe I should add single-serving friends into the mix?

  I tested the idea, and the inconsequential strangers spiced up my life for the better. A casual, nonsexual relationship lasting one loop, something both parties would forget. Them, because it never happened, me, because they would drown in the multitude, becoming a faceless vent for my thoughts and emotions.

  “You’re trying to brew what?” the alchemists’ guild guildmaster said in the nineteenth loop.

  “A potion to increase the odds of a person awakening,” I replied calmly, hiding the much more colossal idea. “If I could make something like that, I’d be wallowing in crystals like a happy trudger in the mud.”

  The man frowned. “I don’t think trudgers wallow. They have spikes and carapace on their backs, not really something that needs wallowing.”

  “What wallows then?”

  “I don’t know. Hoppers and scuttlers, maybe?” Then he shook his head as if struggling to shake out the inane thought from his head. “But back to your idea. Do you have any leads? Any inspiration?”

  “No. Not really.” I sighed despondently. “But people do things better when they relax or when they are more confident. Perhaps making a fake cure—”

  “Stop it right there.” The guildmaster turned serious. “Selling fake potions is forbidden, punishable by expulsion from the guild.”

  “But look, how can anyone prove it works or doesn’t work? Thousands would need to try it before we could have any reliable data…” My voice died down under his glare.

  The man was a fifth-realm mage or mageknight, his distaste and anger tangible.

  “No member of the guild will scam the hopeful and the desperate under my purview.”

  And that was the first single-use friend I managed to lose during the same loop I made him.

  Twenty-five attempts later, we were done with the closest area of the Summersweald, and it was time to change locations.

  “Lord Exalt, do you mind if I seclude myself for a while? I need to consider some things, but I have a bad feeling about this area, and I don’t think we’ll find any information here.”

  The man stared at me, dissecting my soul, and after a brief moment nodded, his face still neutral.

  I bought the map yet again at the adventurers’ guild, took a private room, and just in case scribbled and circled areas of the map for the better part of an hour, before heading out and meeting my partner.

  “He’s not here.” I showed the map with a bunch of circled zones, each exactly big enough for him to search in thirteen days. “We should head for Lavaland, we might have better fortune there, but I make no guarantees. We might even need to move to several imperial cities before we find a clue. Is that fine with you, My Lord?”

  “Yes, and drop it with the my-lording.” While that’s what he said, he didn’t offer a name.

  “Yes, Sir. In that case, I think we should go to Lavaland and try our luck there.”

  I could sense the silent sigh. Even if it didn’t happen. The next moment, I was flying once more under the surprisingly gentle winds the exalt sculpted all around me.

  Is this a sphere, or does he sculpt it according to my body’s shape?

  I kept my eyes peeled and noticed the motes of dust carried by the wind change course as if hitting an invisible ball.

  Boring. But an idea for something to do when shaping air.

  We went over to Lavaland, taking three and a half hours to get there. There I bought a new map, mentally compared it with the old one, and marked the area for the exalt to explore.

  “This region, up to twenty-two thousand miles deep. Can you infer the area you need to search?”

  He looked at me and nodded.

  “Remember thirteen days, two hours more or less won’t make a difference, but you have to be back in thirteen days.”

  He nodded and vanished.

  Not the most talkative type, are you?

  Still, quiet was perfect. Countless times better than him asking questions which could crack my mask. In a sense, I really was a diviner. The practical sort. But even if I was a quack, you couldn’t argue that we came to a city, just looked around, and decided that an area encompassing millions of square miles didn’t contain our target.