“I will admit, your realm did need a tyrant,” Jonathan said. “The mimics were too pervasive for anything other than complete unity. However, I have a suspicion that this realm is different.”

  “Jonathan and I saw thousands of Uthraki toiling in fields that stretched to the horizon,” Edgar explained. “They were harvesting Mandrakes, which only means one thing.”

  Everyone nodded, except for Eliza, who tilted her head. “What’s so significant about that?”

  “Mandrakes are used in the brewing of potent alcohols,” Edgar answered. “Seeing as nobody at Tier 4 needs food or water, that is the only reason their cultivation of those creatures would be so widespread.”

  Arkanon’s lip curled. “What is this? Some sort of hedonistic paradise for my people? To think I had to work myself to the bone in my own realm. Do they simply party here, without any challenge?”

  “Well,” Jonathan said, “there’s an easy way to check.”

  He kicked off the ground, flashing across the mesa until he stood on its edge once more. He focused his gaze on one of the workers, and scanned them.

  Uthraki Homunculus

  Level 310

  Health: 50000/50000

  Jonathan frowned, and leaped back towards his group once more, the wind whipping past him.

  “Those aren’t even Uthraki,” he stated. “They’re homunculuses, whatever that is.”

  “Homunculi,” Edgar corrected. “They are magical constructs made from the fragmented mind of a sapient, forced into a cage of elementally constructed flesh. Incapable of complex thought, only able to follow orders.”

  “Not only are my people indulging in spirits, but they can’t even be bothered making them themselves?” Arkanon said, his neck muscles twitching. “What in the Hells did we walk into?”

  “One of them,” Jonathan deadpanned. “All jokes aside, at least we aren’t being attacked. That is a change from before.”

  The group made their way down the side of the mesa, and walked out into the fields. The homunculi looked up at them with soulless, vacant eyes, but ultimately ignored them, going back to work.

  The rows of Mandrakes stretched for miles, and Jonathan chose one to head down, realizing that there was probably a settlement at the end. Every step carried the high leveled party dozens of yards down the fields, past rows of vacant eyes homunculi.

  An expanse of identical elemental signatures were laid before Jonathan’s sight, with no sight of any Uthraki overseers. There were tens of thousands of the creatures tending to the fields, stuffing Mandrakes into storage devices clipped to their belts.

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  “That’s a lot of storage pouches,” Eva observed. “Either the Uthraki of this realm have a secret to making them, or they’re extremely resource wealthy. Maybe both.”

  “Just how expensive are those?” Jonathan asked. “I have one, but I actually haven’t seen anyone else with one, at least displayed publicly.”

  “The secrets to making them are higher level applications of Dark elementalism,” Edgar explained. “Generally, they are found at lower levels as rewards from the System, or they are available, but at a greatly reduced level of power.”

  “I’m assuming these ones are of the latter type?” Jonathan replied.

  “Most likely. Keying a storage device to a single type of item can be a way to increase its capacity. The elemental matrices that keep such creations working increase exponentially in complexity the more space and variety there is included within them.”

  “If you two are finished geeking out,” Eliza interjected, “there’s something happening over there.” The woman pointed at the horizon, where a small dust cloud had stirred up.

  Jonathan, as the one with the most enhanced senses, peered at the scene, watching as two Uthraki raced along a section of the fields, scooping storage devices into a large wagon being pulled behind them.

  The group came to a pause, looking over at the Uthraki in bemusement. Both of them were mid Tier 4, and seemed quite powerful, and not at all fitting as menial workers. They wore nondescript cloth tunics and trousers, rather than armor.

  Within a minute, they were within shouting distance of Jonathan and the others, and they most certainly were able to make them out. Rather than attack, however, one of them waved at the party, a cheerful smile on his face.

  “How are you newcomers doing?” He called out, his voice echoing across the field.

  Jonathan could hear Arkanon muttering something under his breath, but he instead paid attention to the Uthraki farmer. “Who are you?”

  “Me?” The man called back. “I’m Andus. I work here.”

  “I got that much,” Jonathan answered. “What is happening here? I thought this was supposed to be a layer of Hell?”

  Andus laughed, even as he and the wagon drew ever closer. “Hell? It hasn’t been Hell for centuries. Even since the Merchant Queen saved us from the cycle of violence and regret we were stuck in.”

  “Oh…” Edgar said. “So that’s what’s happening here.”

  “You know what this whole, weird situation is?” Jonathan asked, still perplexed.

  “Remember the Universal Trading Hub? We haven’t used it in a while, given that we rise in power too quickly to make much use, but in a place of stationary power like Tartarus, it would be invaluable.”

  Jonathan snapped his fingers. “Right! I see now. Perhaps this won’t be a dangerous slog of a realm after all.”

  “Do you know where the nearest city is?” Edgar shouted after Andus, who, while remaining friendly, continued on his way with his friend.

  “A few hours that way,” the man replied, pointing to his left. “I hope you find what you need!”

  “What manner of circus have I stepped into…” Arkanon said, sounding utterly bewildered. “My proud species, reduced to merchants…”

  “It’s not all bad,” Jonathan replied, a grin on his face. “There might even be some bards to entertain us. After all, this is a cultured realm.”

  Arkanon’s face paled, and he cast a worried glance at the horizon. “I pray that that is not the case…”

  “Who do you pray to?” Jonathan asked, a moment later. “I thought your realm was more or less an atheistic one.”

  “It was an expression,” Arkanon snapped. “When confronted with a travesty of this magnitude, I need to regain my bearings.”

  “Can we just get going?” Eva asked, a bored expression on her face. “We could have already covered a few dozen miles.”

  Jonathan nodded. “Aright. We’ve wasted enough time bantering. Let’s see who this Merchant Queen is.”