Hyperion Evergrowing

Chapter 103: The Ring

Leif sat at the edge of the village, partially to keep watch, and partially to focus on the magical ring Samil had looted from the bandit leader. The process of attuning to a magical item wasn’t overly complicated, it just took time and focus. As the minutes ticked by the connection between himself and the ring increased, slowly blooming within his mind’s eye similar to the sensation of gaining a new skill.

Finally the connection finished forming, the ring suddenly gaining a mental weight. It wasn’t quite heavy, instead the item gave off a strange kind of pressure. The sensation wasn’t uncomfortable, and within moments it had faded away into the background as his attention shifted to what exactly the item did.

A part of him had expected a system message telling what properties the ring had, but he suspected that was a skill reserved for less combat focused classes. But that didn’t mean the system was completely silent.

You have attuned to an item! Attuned items count as skills, but cannot be fused or altered in any way a normal skill can be.

Warning! Attuning to any additional items may bestow certain penalties!

Leif opened up his status sheet, and sure enough a new line about the number of magical items he had was now displayed below his list of classes and skills. There was no further information about what the item actually did, nor did his status sheet even record that the item was a ring.

===

Attuned Items: 1

===

It was interesting that the system quantified magical items as skills, and Leif guessed the penalties the message had mentioned related to experience gain and the ability to gain levels. Which meant that the ring wasn’t something he was likely to keep his connection to in the long run. He was already sitting right on the soft cap of the number of skills his soul could handle.

Now he just needed to find out what exactly the item did. Leif cast out his mental perception, seeking for the innate knowledge within him that would confirm or disconfirm his suspicions about the ring. Sure enough, it was as he guessed. The ring felt like a small pocket, a space that could accept, hold, or withdraw a certain amount of items. But it wasn’t empty, the small drawer sized space was practically filled to the brim.

There were several letters bound together with string, a pouch containing a handful of silver coins, a small glass vial with a single pill within and some small miscellaneous items. Leif took this all in with a mental sweep of the rings contents, but his attention was drawn by a pendant that seemed to take up far more space than its physical size should allow. He tried to pull the item from the storage space, the process was intuitive, though it took three attempts. The trick was intent and focus, he had to mentally picture himself reaching into the small magical container, mentally grasp what he wanted, then withdraw the item out into reality.

The air around his hand warped slightly, then the plain looking pendant materialised in his palm. He had seen the bandit leader teleport away during the fight, and Leif suspected that this necklace was the reason why. But the item's power had been spent, it lay inert in his palm absent of power. Leif instinctually knew he couldn’t attune to this item, something about its design made that possibility null. Either this was a one time use item, or it had a way to be recharged. Shrugging, Leif returned the pendant to the ring, then pulled out the bundle of letters. It was too dark to read the words, so Leif conjured a pair of golden arms to loom above him, the ambient illumination of the skill’s structure enough to read by. Unfortunately, the letters seemed… odd. The words used didn’t mean anything when put together, it was just an endless stream of nonsense and random babble. Each letter, of which there were four, was the exact same, inexperienced as he was, not even Leif could miss the fairly obvious. The letters had been written in a cypher, just by looking over them Leif could see patterns emerging with the same series of words used across several of the letters.

The scion frowned slightly, mentally searching through the spatial ring for a clue or a list of what the code's message might mean. But there was nothing, it was likely the bandit leader had the knowledge to decode the messages by memory. Leif couldn’t help feeling as though there was more at play here. A storage item was far, far too expensive for a random bandit to have been carrying around. Even one as small as the ring.

Well, it's mine now. He thought, twisting the ring where it fit around his finger. I’ll take inventory and ask around in the morning. Leif got to work, reorganising the contents of the storage device. Then he manually went into his status screen to add what the item was. If he was going to have an item that technically acted as a skill, he might as well document it.

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“That’s republic silver.” Nazan said, frowning down at the coin Leif was spinning between his fingers.

“Yeah.” Leif replied, though in truth he hadn’t known that until just then. “The bandit leader had some on him, any ideas?”

The demikin he had been travelling with hadn’t known what to think about the letters, or the strange amount of wealth the now dead man had been carrying. The villagers too were mostly clueless, one bandit attack seemed like any other to them. But the priest had picked up on the silver coins almost immediately, looking at them with suspicion.

“These are accepted throughout the free cities.” He said. “But the empire outlaws them, you wouldn’t find many of these around here, but further west and across the sea this is the standard.”

“So a man with cyphered letters and foreign currency is raiding villages along the frontier? It’s time to ask his men if they know anything.” Leif said, standing and dusting off his cloak and turning to face Nazan. “Can you imagine any reason for this to be the case?”

“The Empire and the Free Cities have been at odds for centuries, there are any number of reasons.” The priest replied.

===

“Can I hit him again?” Olav asked, eyes pleading as he glanced back at Leif.

The scion stood with his arms folded, golden gaze bearing down into the haggard form of the lanky spear wielder. The man wasn’t talking, but the other bandits had been more than eager to point him out as the brother of their leader.

Tio, as the bandit was called, knelt resolute and silent. He hadn’t spoken a word, even when Olav lost his patience and started slapping him around. “I don’t recall saying you could start.” Leif said, his aura pressing down on the tall bandit, suppressing him entirely. “And the answer is no. We’ll take this lot to a larger settlement down south and let the authorities handle it.”

“But he’s so punchable.” The large demikin said, “Just one more?”

“We already killed his brother, that's enough for now.” Leif said, picking the letters up off a nearby table, the air warping slightly as they vanished into his ring. With a gesture the bandit was hauled away, his limbs quickly being restrained by floorboards moving to Leif’s will. “Come, let’s finalise our business here then head out.”

“And by business.” Olav said, striding out after him with his hands laced together behind his head. “You mean offering to bless their fields with your magic.”

“I do, yes.”

“Sounds like shit business. Isn’t there supposed to be profit in business? I honestly don’t know.”

“We’ll get what we need from someplace else. The people here have nothing to give.” Leif said.

“Sure, sure. And afterwards we can have that fight you promised?” Olav said, his lazy grin turning predatory.

Leif sighed. “Fine.” He felt excitement bubble up from within the man at his acceptance. “As long as you realise it will be a one sided beatdown.” He added, smirking slightly beneath his mask.

The demikin tripped. “Not so! I’m plenty strong!”

===

A day later the party of four left the village. They were sent off with waves and calls of gratitude. Behind them was the group of solemn looking bandits, each man tied to the next with ropes Leif had created.

It was a grim procession, neither group being overly comfortable with the arrangement. The nearest town was three days' travel to the south-east of the village, behind the imperial cordon. As they went, they passed signs of destruction and conflict. None of the bandits had admitted to attacking any other nearby villages or farmsteads, but nonetheless they were ravaged and abandoned.

They encountered a pack of roaming undead just after sunset on the second day. The pack of eight skeletal ghouls threw themselves ravenous at the tied up prisoners, but they were dispatched within moments. The bandits cringed back as violence exploded all around them, they did so again when Olav suggested letting the ghoul he was sitting on have a nibble.

On the third day the group found themselves walking alongside a wide, fast flowing river. The dirt path on their side of the bank was overgrown and in disrepair, but the same couldn’t be said for the southern side of the river. An hour into following along the flowing waterway a squad of armoured men and women riding horses spotted them from the other side. What followed was an awkward, shouted conversation that neither party could really hear over the constant roar of the river.

With his aura fully extended, Leif could communicate telepathically, so at least his group got their side of the story to what he thought was an imperial patrol. Wordlessly one of the riders pointed down the river, then the patrol continued on its way.

It was getting towards evening when Leif and company finally saw faint smoke trails drifting up from over a nearby hill. The bandits started dragging their feet, but Leif just pulled them along. If they hadn’t wanted to face judgement, they shouldn’t have preyed on the weak. Whatever was coming for them, he wouldn’t object.

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