Symon emerged from the swirling pollen barrier, a happy pep to his step. Sure, there were heavy limitations, but he could actually touch a person without killing them! Already, plans for how he could improve it zoomed through his mind, the thoughts chaotic thoughts manic compared to the lazy swirling of the mist behind him.

If IFF gets extra charges when I level Seize like we think it should, eventually I'll be able to add the whole group to the exclusion list, and I won't have to worry about my magic at all! Well, as long as we're in the wilderness.

It was far from the perfect control he wanted over his magic, though it was a small yet impactful step in the right direction. Keelgrave had agreed with him that the wording implied he could gain more charges, but the Ledger didn't specify exactly how. They assumed it just needed more levels, but he still had other ideas in case that was a dead end. The Ledger could be frustratingly vague, sometimes.

He'd see new evolutions once he got the spell to level 40, which would depend on his desires and how he used his magic, but he'd get all the previous ones he passed over offered again.

If he didn't get anything better, he'd be able to take Thread Compression. With a couple more levels after the evolution, he'd be able to bring the range all the way down to nothing, which they'd agreed meant it would be touch only. Keelgrave's people, the Usasans, had a bedtime story about a Mage who was bullied by the Warriors for being so scrawny. He had telekinetic powers, and was offered a similar evolution to Symon, reducing the range in exchange for more power. Eventually, the Mage could only use his magic on himself and things he was touching, and was able to beat all the Warriors in the annual wrestling match by moving his body with magic and flinging them out of the ring with a single flick.

<Don't judge me, teaching children the importance of guiding their evolutions is a valuable lesson!> Keelgrave had said.

If he could get a similar effect for his own magic, he could just wear gloves and form covering clothing and be able to live a mostly normal life.

I wonder if they have spandex here? I'd look like such a nerd in a superhero outfit, but at least—

"Friend Symon, you have returned!" Aslan's cheery voice called out. Along with the other Dumosans, he was camped out at the beginning of the treeline, not far from the barrier. At his words, both Safiya and Atabek turned to him, a large piece of what looked like bread flopping wildly from the big man's mouth as he waved enthusiastically at him.

"Hey, everyone, it's good to see you again," Symon said with a smile as he returned the wave. He meant it, too. It hadn't been long since he'd left them behind, but he'd gotten so used to fighting side by side with them that it had felt odd to defeat the groundskeeper and then scout out the manor all on his own. It was comforting to have someone watching your back, and nerve-wracking to be all on your own.

"Did your exploration go well?" Aslan asked.

"Oh, yes, where do I start…" Symon quickly brought them up to speed on what he'd been doing, telling them about the revenant, the manor, and the tower attached to it that he hadn't been able to get into. "Oh, and there was a nearly dead elf in there named Entisse that I saved, which ended up letting me evolve my draining. Now, I can make one person immune to it, but I'm pretty confident this'll increase with more levels!"

"This is a cause for celebration! You— wait, did you say you saved the elf?"

"Oh yes, someone had left a javelin in her back. She had these mana-draining manacles clamped on her that were a struggle to get off, but we managed it. I'll spare you the gory details."

"And… it did not attack you once it was free?" Aslan asked, a frown plastered on his face. The others looked confused too, but that was just them picking up on the facial expressions instead of truly following the conversation.

Oh man, not you too. I thought Keelgrave was exaggerating when he told me how most people think of elves.

"Uh, no, she's a little intense, but it makes sense once you talk to her. Her whole village got wiped out by, well, she didn't really know who. Humans, though."

"You talked to her? A conversation, like we are having now?"

"Right, I forgot to mention the translation ring I found. Took a bit of fiddling to get it to work, but it's pretty handy."

Aslan blinked. "That doesn't work. Lots of people have tried."

"It definitely worked, and pretty effectively at that," Symon said. There hadn't even been any misunderstandings, so it had to be some pretty advanced translation magic that could get intent across. It had let him interpret the emotion behind different wordless hisses, which supported this idea.

"I… I've never heard of someone actually speaking with an elf. She really didn't harm you?"

"No, I think she was more scared of me than I was of her. Have you had bad experiences with them or something?"

"Not me personally, but I've heard the stories. There are none near our home, but plenty of young Dumosans have lost their lives to the forest elves below the plateau," Aslan explained. Safiya grunted in agreement, though Symon wasn't sure how much of that she'd understood.

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"She's from underground, if that makes a difference. And she seems pretty obsessed with killing and, uh, eating monsters, but she'd never even seen a human until recently, let alone killed one."

Aslan tapped his chin contemplatively before shrugging. "If you vouch for her, then I will take your word for it. But how are we going to get through the mist?"

"I've got just the solution!" Symon chirped. "I discovered the mist is actually pollen, from a massive field of black roses. It attacks your mana, which is why I was able to walk through unharmed. Without a core, the minuscule amount I have in my body isn't enough to overcome my Poison Resistance. I can help you all get it, then you'll just need to spend all your mana and walk through unharmed!"

The other man nodded his head in appreciation. "It sounds possible, but you would really help us gain a resistance? Our debt would be immense…"

Symon waved him off. "Come on now, friend, I thought we were past such things. Although if you'd like to help, do you think I could get some help preparing some monster meat? Entisse is a bit malnourished, and my healing can't fix everything."

Aslan turned to Atabek, who had continued to listen to the conversation without understanding. "I have an important mission for you," Aslan said in Dumosi.

Symon re-entered the mists through the same location he'd first come through. He hopped over the low wall again, feeling his pack bounce with all the recently added weight. He did his best to minimize the wasted vitality by walking over the already dead roses until he reached the main path, which he then followed all the way into the manor.

"Hello?" he called out into the dark interior, his voice echoing through the long dead halls. "I come bearing gifts."

To that, he heard the sound of something hitting the ground, then a mad scramble as he Entisse raced down one of the hallways. Well, she raced as fast as she could in her weakened state, which was still impressively quick now that the manacles were removed. Once she recovered, she'd probably be as hard to follow as Safiya was, if not more.

She paused in the doorway, taking in a single deep breath through her sharp nose as she eyed Symon. "I smell meat."

That was a powerful sense of smell, as Symon could barely detect it and that was with it being inside his own pack. "Mhm, emberwolves. Did you know it takes three times longer to cook than normal meat does? Makes it really hard to overcook. I hope you like medium rare, I forgot to ask."

She didn't respond verbally, instead just licking her lips. The very human gesture was thrown off by the fact that her tongue was split like a snake's and reached longer than it should have.

Sensing it would be cruel to keep her waiting, he walked past her into the hallway. She couldn't exit the manor, not when her newly restored mana meant the pollen in the main lobby was back to being harmful for her. She'd dragged the rug out to the front and used it to avoid most of the stuff, but some still occasionally drifted in through the front door.

They'd already found the kitchen on the lower level, so they headed straight there. It had large ovens, their hulking forms cold for many years, and a simple yet sizeable table with many chairs, presumably meant for the serving staff.

He set his pack on the table and started rifling through it, pulling out the wolfsteaks they'd wrapped in a large, dried leaf that reminded him of palm fronds. Her head and eyes followed his every motion as he set the steaks down on the table.

"There was some silverware in the back, let me go find them," he said while walking through into the backroom. Naturally, they hadn't moved from where he'd last seen them. He wiped most of the dust off with a cloth, cursing the lack of running water. If they could afford an enchanted rug, why not something for water? There was a well outside, but after all these years it surely had more pollen than water in it.

Magical canteen, add that to the list of things to buy once I get to a city.

With a sigh, he picked up the silverware. It was simple but nice enough, even by Earth standards, so maybe he'd keep a set for himself. The moment his fingers brushed the metal, he heard a loud, wet smacking sound from the other room.

Grabbing the cutlery sets, he rushed back to find Entisse locked in a brutal combat with the steaks. She had one in each hand, alternating tearing bites between them.

"Figures," he sighed as he sat down across from her, unwrapping his wolfsteak and picking up his utensils. Bright red blood — much more vibrantly coloured than normal steak — dribbled down her chin and dripped onto the table, or was wiped off on the back of her hand. "You're going to make yourself sick. You need to ease yourself back into food."

The translation ring struggled to keep up as she spoke through a massive mouthful of food. "Buht huw cuhd ih be bahd fuh yuh if ih'sh sho tashtee?"

"Refeeding syndrome, it's when… you know what, never mind. Eat away, just don't come complaining to me if you feel sick after." She wasn't going to learn until she experienced it, and wasn't going to die when his healing was available. He wasn't even sure how fatal it was, as it was hardly his area of expertise.

She pointed a clawed finger at him, red juices dripping from the appendage. "No shuch fing!"

The loud smacking noises and savage tearing weren't enough to silence his own hunger, but he decided then and there that he'd have to teach her table manners if she did end up joining the party.

Doing his best to ignore the massacre occurring across from him, he picked up his knife and fork and cut off a little piece of the steak. It was pretty tough, but the knife was sharp and all it took to slice through was a little extra effort. As it turned out, Atabek hadn't been lying when he'd promised they were all medium rare. Scarlet red blood dripped out of the slice, and he could have sworn he saw a tiny, orange ember in it.

No matter how hard he looked, he didn't see it again, so he just shrugged and speared it on his fork. Eating monsters was a fairly common occurrence, although it tended to be expensive enough that only the rich or those who hunted monsters themselves could afford it with any regularity. It wasn't intrinsically dangerous, but of course, certain monsters couldn't be eaten.

Raising the small chunk to his mouth, he bit down on it. It was certainly interesting, being stringy to chew and having an overly intense gamey flavour. It was also spicy, despite Atabek not adding anything to it. He'd said he wanted to appreciate the natural flavour. To Symon, it tasted like he'd just bit down on a mouthful of whole peppercorns, or maybe raw garlic.

It felt like the type of thing you'd get a tiny portion of as an appetiser at a fancy restaurant, served with a little caviar and blots of puree on the plate.

Hmm, maybe a little rice to balance out how strong it is would be nice…

Swallowing his bite, he looked up at Entisse. She'd already finished one of her steaks and was now two-handing the remaining one, using the increased leverage to latch onto it and rip off chunks like a wild hyena attacking a gazelle.

Symon let out a long sigh and returned to his meal.

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