His fingers fumbled the case open. The scroll inside was older than the others as parchment had yellowed and become brittle at the edges. He spread it flat and read.

  

  Year 2209 since the Primordial Sea Crossing. Let it be known that the practice of Ritualistic Magic for offensive reasons shall henceforth incur Bounty Karma. The rule applies to all practitioners without exception, lest they offer appeasement.

  Anzu's pulse quickened as he read the short explanation.

  So, it had been decided by decree that Blood Sages and Necromancers must be punished. By whom, he couldn't say. He'd call them gods for now, but that wasn't really what worried him at the moment.

  It was that last clause of the decree that sent simultaneous pangs of worry and excitement into his chest: appeasement.

  Appeasement meant that there was a way of controlling the Karma. That single word hung there, unexplained. That was the infuriating part of it. There were no definitions and no instructions. He scanned further, but the text offered nothing more; only vague warnings about escalating consequences and the inevitability of divine retribution.

  But, perhaps, it made sense. Divine Decrees could be accessed by anyone, in principle. Since all matters relating to the Sage class were secret, revealed to the player only once they'd unlocked the class, the decree would never contain any such information.

  He would need to go over his scrolls and related items. But, ah, of course, those were locked away in his tower. Together with his obsidian dagger and all other possessions. It might even be the case that the new regulations on Ritualism were connected with his build problems in some way.

  A shot of energy pulsed through Anzu as he arrived at these conclusions. Things were finally connecting and starting to make sense, even if just a little. He felt there was purpose in him again, and there was also intent. Returning to his tower needed to be prioritized above all else.

  His line of thinking didn't explain any of the odd events surrounding the tyrannical Mardukists and the supposed reincarnation business. He cared about that topic rather passionately now. But there was no time. Tower, first. Philosophy later.

  As he was about to roll back the scroll, he noticed a small square at the bottom right. It looked like an odd placeholder for something, and he detected a very faint purplish glow about it. That was enchanted, for sure.

  And then it clicked.

  He took his right thumb and gently pressed it against the glowing square. It instantly pulled him to the back part of his head and produced a small interface with a turquoise tint.

  Bounty Karma reading for : 589 / 1000 (High).

  Alright, he'd racked up a large amount of Karma. No wonder mercenaries had banded together to have a go at him. There will be more fights like that. That's for sure. It was a time to be careful.

  Ritualistic Magic had been his strongest tool, the edge that let him punch above even his absurd level. He had to fix his problems to keep using it. It was as simple as that.

  He locked the cabinet and left the archives without another word to the clerk.

  Outside, the sun beat down hard. He squinted against the glare and started back toward the wheelwright's shop, pulling his hood over his face, thoughts churning.

  The world had changed significantly since he last played the game. Existing here had never been easy. But now he was facing puzzles everywhere he turned. Interestingly, he felt rather well placed to explore them. The combination of the powerful Anzu and the logical problem-solver Anni should give him a new edge.

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

  Itani waited near the wheelwright's shop, leaning against a mud-brick wall with her arms crossed. When she spotted Anzu, she pushed off and pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from her pack.

  'Got you something.'

  He unwrapped it, but his nose knew what it was before his eyes did: butter flatbread. And it was still warm.

  "You're a lifesaver."

  He tore into it without ceremony, savoring the rich but simple taste. 'I haven't eaten since yesterday.'

  "I figured as much. You looked half-starved when you came out of that archive."

  He finished half the bread before speaking again.

  "Did you find a fletcher? For the arrows?"

  She smiled and pointed at the fully loaded quiver on her back.

  "I also ran into someone I knew...," she hesitated for a moment, "A Ranger back from my childhood in Eridu. He's a good sort, mostly."

  Anzu raised an eyebrow but didn't press. Her tone made it clear the subject was closed.

  "Did he say anything useful?"

  "Nothing worth repeating, to be honest."

  She glanced toward the wheelwright's, quickly deflecting.

  "I sure hope the wheel's ready."

  "It should be. It's been over an hour now."

  They crossed the street. Inside the open-fronted shop, the wheelwright had just finished hammering the final section of the bronze strip into place. The metal band glowed dull orange where it met the wood, and the man dunked the whole assembly into a water trough. Steam hissed and billowed.

  Anzu had never witnessed a craftsman like this at work before. In documentaries, sure, but never in person. It was a real treat. He thought of it as living history at this point.

  "Perfect timing, folks," the wheelwright said, wiping his brow. He hauled the wheel out and set it upright. "Four feet, bronze reinforced rim, just as agreed. Thirty-five silver."

  As Anzu was counting out the coins, the wheelwright tested the rim with a few measured hits against the grows, nodded in satisfaction, then hefted the wheel and offered it to Anzu.

  "Do you need help getting it to your carriage?"

  "We've got a horse," Itani said. "We'll manage."

  The wheelwright handed it over and just shrugged, probably never having heard of horses before. Anzu balanced it on the edge and started rolling it alongside them as they walked back toward the edge of town.

  "Well, this wasn't too bad," Itani exhaled, "at least we didn't get attacked this time. I like Girsu, I think."

  "Agreed. But I'm looking forward to Larsa more."

  As they reached the outskirts of the town, they were greeted by the familiar image of date palms and acacia trees.

  The farmer who they left their horse with still sat near the hitching post, whittling a piece of wood into some unrecognizable shape. He looked up as they approached.

  "Did the horse give you any trouble?"

  "None at all," the farmer said. "Good animal. It didn't fuss at all."

  Anzu paid him the promised silver and added a little extra. It was positively scorching, and the man deserved it.

  "Oh, darn it. Thanks a bunch. I appreciate it."

  The farmer pocketed the coins and returned to his whittling, lifting his head as Anzu and Itani went to the horse.

  "And safe travels."

  Itani mounted first, then Anzu passed her the wheel and climbed up in front of her. She balanced it across her lap, gripping the rim tightly as Anzu took the reins.

  "This is awkward," she muttered.

  "Well, it sure beats walking," Anzu laughed.

  He urged the horse into a steady trot, heading back the way they'd come. The sun had climbed higher, baking the road beneath them. It was about noon, he reckoned.

  Anzu's mind wandered back to the archives as he couldn't stop mulling over the puzzling restrictions on Ritualism and the appeasement. Patience was required, but he didn't have much of it left.

  "You all right?" Itani asked over her shoulder.

  "Fine. I'm just thinking about what I learned in the archives. It explains why the mercenaries attacked us."

  "Yeah?"

  "Apparently, a Divine Decree was issued a while ago that penalizes Ritualist practitioners by assigning Bounty Karma to them."

  "What? But even... even to you?"

  "Yes. It's quite messy. I'm still figuring it out."

  She didn't push further, and they rode in silence until the broken carriage came into view ahead.

  All of a sudden, shouting echoed through the area, accompanied by the sharp ring of metal on metal.

  Anzu reined the horse to a halt and narrowed his eyes. Figures moved near the carriage. There were too many of them, and blades flashed in the sunlight.

  "Trouble," Itani said quietly.

  Anzu dismounted and helped her down with the wheel. They left it propped against a rock and crept closer, keeping low.

  The passengers were either standing outside or poking their heads through the carriage's windows. But the three armed men had daggers in their hands and were approaching the four, now unarmed, mercenaries who were shouting, while standing next to their horses.

  The armed men interchangeably engaged in a shouting war with the mercenaries, spitting on the ground all the while and threatening them with their daggers.