Turns out, Cass was absolutely right. Harvesting Winters Ginseng was a fucking nightmare.

  I had no idea that when I'd agreed to handle Henrik's chores in exchange for help in the tournament, I'd end up spending days on their farm, caked in stubborn dirt and hunched over massive roots that seemed offended by the concept of being dug up. Normal ginseng was about the size of a hand, but these bastards were closer to sweet potatoes—if sweet potatoes were filled with volatile life mana that made them feel like ticking magical bombs.

  Extracting them required the delicate touch of an archaeologist. Brushes and picks to avoid even the slightest damage, because any nick or scrape would cause the life-aspected mana to burn away in a brilliant flash, healing the plant instantly and rendering it completely useless. We'd been at this backbreaking work for days, and my back was definitely breaking, mana or no.

  To make matters worse, it had been hours since I'd last seen Red. Our bond had grown even stronger than it was in Sylvarus, and through it I could sense that he was perfectly fine—mostly just radiating pure, stubborn determination.

  The problem? My dog had discovered fetch.

  He'd found a small leather ball dyed bright orange somewhere around the farm, and the moment he figured out I knew how to play, it was game over for any hope of productivity. Normally, a dog would eventually get tired and give his human a break. But a magical seven-tailed fox-dog who could move faster than most people could blink? That made harvesting ginseng in these fields borderline impossible.

  Every few minutes, Red would materialize out of nowhere and drop that damn ball directly on top of whatever delicate root I was painstakingly excavating, tail wagging so hard his whole body vibrated with excitement. The last time I'd thrown it, Red had slipped on his return trip, accidentally trampling the root I'd spent an hour carefully exposing.

  The ginseng had pulsed with an intense burst of life-aspected mana before shriveling into a tiny, worthless husk that looked more like grocery store ginseng than the magical powerhouse it had been moments before.

  "Fuck..." I sighed, staring at the ruined plant. "Astrid's going to make me cook dinner now."

  According to Cass, destroying a root was a punishable offense that came with additional chores. I was definitely on the chopping block.

  I sighed and looked up at Red, who sat nearby with his goofy grin and lolling tongue. The moment our eyes met, his ears pinned back in obvious guilt.

  he projected through our bond, hope radiating from his mental voice.

  Without really thinking it through, I shoved every scrap of available mana into my throwing arm and ignited a full mana burn. Thick blue energy erupted around me like liquid fire as my body surged several times past its normal limits. It had been years since I'd played baseball, but muscle memory kicked in as I wound up and let the ball fly.

  The sonic boom that followed was probably a solid indicator that I'd thrown the damn thing too hard.

  But Red exploded after it with pure joy, diving into the forest in the direction I'd launched his prize, radiating so much happiness through our bond that I couldn't help but smile despite the ruined root.

  That had been hours ago, and now the sun was starting to set behind the treeline.

  "He still not back yet?" Cass asked, her approach registering thanks to Valor's expanded awareness aura.

  "No, but I can feel he's okay through the bond," I said, turning toward her with a shrug. "I just feel bad that I got angry at him. He was only playing."

  The moment Cass’s gray eyes met mine, she flinched and took an exaggerated step backward.

  "Gaia's tits, you're hideous!" she laughed. "Having two different colored eyes is seriously weird, you know."

  “Har har,” I reached up and touched the raised scars around my left eye, chuckling despite myself. "Fuck off, Cass. It's been like this a month. In fact you’ve known me longer with one blue eye and one brown longer than you knew me the other way."

  I had only vague impressions of what had actually happened in Sylvarus. Fragmented flashes of an orange Varglid with too many teeth, the enormous twisted remnants of whatever Gu Li had become lurking behind it, and the brilliant Avatar of Light who now somehow resided within my soul alongside Ted. Most of all, I carried the absolute certainty that I had come within a heartbeat of dying.

  The details remained frustratingly elusive, like trying to remember a dream that kept slipping away the harder I focused on it.

  Diana had advised I should probably keep the specifics to myself until we understood more about what had happened. So naturally, I'd told Cass everything I could remember.

  "And besides," I added with a grin, "Katie likes it."

  Cass scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Maybe spend more time training and less time 'giving her a hand' or whatever you two do. The Tournament's postponed, not canceled."

  I pulled my wash-kit from soul-space and ran a trickle of mana through it. Dirt and sweat evaporated off my body in a cloud of fine dust that I blew directly toward Cass.

  "Are you just here to lecture me?" I asked.

  Cass swatted irritably at the floating grime. "I mean, I'm always here to lecture you. But Magnus just got back from La-Roc with the supplies. Wanna come see?"

  "Hell yeah I do!" I said, quickly storing my tools and wash-kit.

  Magnus Winters—the eldest of Astrid's children and Cass's big brother. When I said big, I meant massive. Magnus was built like a brick shithouse, except bigger and somehow even more brick-like. The catch was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with fighting. He'd given up his claim to the Winters estate and just wanted to focus on the farm. It was probably for the best, too. His mastery of life-aspected mana was unlike anything I'd ever witnessed. According to Diana, not even Richard possessed Magnus's level of precise control, which explained quite a bit about why the farm was so successful at raising these mutant ginseng roots.

  As we approached the housing complex, several Trailbinders—magically propelled covered wagons—sat arranged in the courtyard while half a dozen insect-like Sentarian methodically unloaded them.

  Magnus disembarked from the largest wagon, two hogshead-sized barrels tucked effortlessly under his massive arms. He wasn't wearing a shirt—I wasn't sure they made them in his size—and his tanned skin gleamed with sweat in the humid evening air. His blond braids clinked softly with metal beads as he set the barrels down and wiped his brow.

  "Ben! Cass!" he boomed when he spotted us, his voice carrying like a battlefield command. "Help me bring these to the house. I'll handle this beast."

  He gestured toward an enormous hammered copper pot strapped to another Trailbinder. The thing had to be nearly as tall as he was, which made it absolutely gigantic.

  Cass and I nodded and approached the barrels, only to be stopped dead in our tracks when we tried to move them.

  "What the fuck is in these things, Magnus?!" Cass winced, barely able to push hers enough to get her hands underneath.

  I shoved mine experimentally and it might as well have been welded to the ground. The damn thing had to weigh over a thousand kilograms. I stared at it in disbelief.

  "Your malted grain!" Magnus called cheerfully. "And this pot weighs much more. I need both hands to carry it properly."

  Cass and I exchanged incredulous looks, then stared back at the barrels. We'd both lifted heavier objects back in Sylvarus—massive chunks of broken stone—but we'd been wearing armored gloves and burning mana to accomplish those feats.

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  Shrugging, I ignited Valor and blue energy exploded outward from my body like liquid fire. Even with my strength pushed well past normal human limits, the barrel felt like trying to lift a small boulder.

  Cass's similar green aura erupted around her as she followed suit, her face already reddening with strain.

  "Magnus, you're a freak of nature!" she yelled, just as her brother hefted the enormous copper pot onto his back with thick leather straps, settling it as casually as someone might shoulder a backpack.

  "Would you prefer to carry this instead, Little Bloom?" he asked with infuriating calm, and Cass's face turned an even deeper shade of red beneath her blazing green aura.

  "I'm gonna hit you, Maggie," she growled.

  But just as she moved to set her barrel down and presumably make good on the threat, Magnus turned and strolled toward the massive estate as if he wasn't carrying anything heavier than a picnic basket.

  "You'll have to catch me first," he called over his shoulder. "Don't forget to bring that barrel—you ordered it, after all!"

  Cass snarled and started walking awkwardly with the impossibly heavy barrel clutched in her arms. I could tell she was trying to match his pace out of pure spite, because at one point she stumbled and nearly dropped the thing entirely.

  That much malted grain spilling across the stone walkway would take days to clean up, not to mention the looming threat of rain ruining the entire batch. I quickened my pace as best I could, partly to keep up and partly to be ready to help if Cass's pride finally got the better of her common sense.

  ***

  Cass and I collapsed in the open courtyard of the Winters estate, both of us gasping like we'd just sprinted through hell. My lungs burned, and I was damn near tapped out of mana—felt like I'd just hauled a pickup truck over a mountain.

  "I... just carried a metric ton... over a span," I wheezed between ragged breaths. "Aapo'd be proud."

  "Your grandmother?" Cass panted back, her muscular frame glistening with sweat. "She's the one who... trained you, right?"

  I managed to sit up, fumbling into soul-space for some mana orbs, and nodded. "Yeah, guess she did. Think she'd get a kick out of seeing me use Tai Chi to fight monsters."

  "That's the slow-motion thing you and Jeremy do every morning?" Cass asked, pushing herself upright with a grunt.

  I tossed her one of the softly glowing orbs. She caught it deftly, and it dissolved into her palm with a warm pulse of energy. Her breathing immediately began to slow and deepen.

  "Thanks," she said, rolling her shoulders as the mana worked through her system. "Where'd you get these ones? They're potent."

  I shrugged, absorbing my own orb and feeling the familiar rush of restored energy. "No idea. Red brings them back from his little adventures. Clearly he's out there fighting monsters without me."

  Cass laughed and punched me in the arm—not gently. "Oh no, your familiar brings you free mana. How terrible."

  "Ow, fuck, Cass!" I said, rubbing the spot where her knuckles had connected. "I share them, don't I?"

  "Ben Crawford!

  My name rang through the air with the kind of bone-deep authority that only a Soulcry could carry. The sound hit me like a physical blow, every muscle in my body seizing up instantly. I tried to draw breath, tried to respond, but my body had locked up completely—like someone had just run a thousand volts through my nervous system. Even Valor, my aura, winked out like a candle flame in a hurricane.

  Astrid Winters burst into the courtyard, her presence filling the space like an approaching storm. She looked like an older, more dangerous version of Cass—graying blonde hair woven into intricate braids, powerful frame marked with runic tattoos that seemed to shift in the afternoon light. In her raised hand, she held the pitiful, shriveled remains of the ginseng root Red had trampled that morning.

  "Just what the fuck is this?" she demanded, waving the ruined plant like evidence at a crime scene.

  I tried to answer, tried to move, tried to do anything, but my body simply refused to obey. Astrid's command had locked me down completely.

  "Well?" she pressed, and I could feel her gaze boring into me like a drill.

  "Oh, please," Astrid said after a moment, her tone shifting to mild disappointment. "Even Henrik can wiggle out of me just saying his name. Put some backbone into it."

  Cass snorted with laughter beside me, apparently unaffected by her mother's display of dominance.

  I tried to sigh—unsuccessfully—and reached deep into my soul-space, gathering every scrap of willpower I could muster.

  Nothing happened. I remained frozen like a statue.

  "Come on, kid. Get your shit together

  Still nothing.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake,

  My soul-self examined the barrier and simply... pushed it aside. The resistance crumbled with surprising ease.

  I felt my physical body blink back to awareness, muscles unlocking all at once.

  "Huh," I said, standing and testing my limbs. "That was easier than I thought it would be."

  Astrid raised an eyebrow, and I caught a flicker of what might have been approval in her expression. "Oh? Perhaps I should try something a bit more direct next time?"

  "Please, no!" I held up both hands in surrender. "I'm just... further along that path than I thought, I guess."

  "Good. Then answer my question," Astrid said, though her tone had warmed slightly.

  "Yeah, Red trampled that one. My fault for throwing his ball too close to where I was working."

  "Good that you take responsibility. Do your chores, and do them correctly," Astrid replied with a curt nod. "You'll be making dinner for the family tonight as penance. Kerrin and Elizabeth will be joining us."

  Cass immediately perked up, her earlier exhaustion forgotten. "Oh! I didn't know Liz was back from Cloudwater!"

  Astrid nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "She's spending the night here on her way back to Rainhaven. Try not to get into too much trouble, you two."

  Cass grinned at the prospect of seeing her friend, practically bouncing with excitement. We'd been essentially locked up on this farm for nearly a week, and personally, I was getting seriously homesick for the big city on the coast. The energy, the crowds, the sense that things were actually happening.

  And Katie. I definitely missed Katie the most.

  Her fire-red hair catching the light, those freckles scattered across her nose like tiny stars, the way her deceptively small frame could probably bench press a small car. The warmth of her bakery, filled with the smell of fresh bread and her infectious laughter.

  We had spent most of the last month rebuilding it, and then I was stuck all the way out here working in fields.

  Hell, what I wouldn't give for one of her cheese buns right about now.

  I blinked, suddenly aware that I'd been standing there like a zombie for several long seconds, lost in thoughts of Katie's smile and fresh-baked bread.

  "Uh, sorry. Just a little tired," I said, shaking myself back to the present. "I'll take care of dinner, Astrid. Thank you."

  Astrid's smile was barely there, but I caught it. She nodded once. "Good. Come, Cassandra, your friend should be arriving any moment. Ben here has work to do."

  And with that, they were gone, leaving me standing like a complete moron in the open courtyard just as the first drops of rain began to fall.

  Perfect.

  I spent a few moments just letting the gentle rain cool my overheated skin, then opened up the spirit well that had been gifted to me back in Sylvarus. It took about a minute for the flow to properly start, but once it did, mana surged through my system until I felt ready to burst. The whole process took maybe thirty seconds before I had to shut it off, feeling dramatically better—stronger, more solid, like something had just upgraded my body.

  Something in my mana pathways gave a sharp snap, like a rubber band releasing tension. The sensation rippled through my entire body as new channels seemed to carve themselves into place.

  Huh. Another milestone, I supposed. The road to Adept was going to be a long one, and I still needed to develop actual techniques to make use of all this raw power. But that was a problem for another day. Hopefully some quality time back in Sylvarus would help with that—whenever they decided to resume the tournament that would determine whether I got to stay on Ark or get booted out into the Multiverse.

  Shaking the rain from my hair, I made my way through the now-familiar corridors of the Winters estate toward the kitchens.

  When I pushed through the doors, I found half a dozen Sentarian methodically stocking shelves and ice boxes with the fresh ingredients Magnus had brought back from La-Roc. They all snapped to attention the moment I entered, long-fingered hands pressed over their navels in what I'd learned was a formal gesture of respect.

  "Amituofo, Revered One!" they called in perfect unison.

  This was my third time helping in the kitchen, and I'd discovered that while the Sentarian might be insect-kin who survived primarily on nectar, they could cook and follow complex instructions like world-class sous chefs. Their precise, methodical nature made them absolutely perfect for prep work.

  I held up a hand, grinning despite myself. "Good evening, everyone! I'll be leading dinner service tonight. Please continue while I review what we're working with."

  One of the Sentarian—I was pretty sure his name was Larry, or Larri, something with two r's that had made me nearly snicker when he'd introduced himself—stepped forward and handed me a neatly rolled scroll with his impossibly long fingers. His mandibles clicked open in what passed for a smile among his people.

  "We have prepared a complete manifest for you, Revered One. Please lead us!"

  "Thank you, Larry!" I said, unrolling the paper to scan the fresh deliveries.

  Astrid had ordered nearly everything I'd requested, plus one final item that was circled with several question marks scrawled around it. I couldn't help but smile at her thoroughness.

  Spreading Valor's aura out through the kitchen space, I could suddenly feel everyone moving around me—their positions, their tasks, even a general sense of where every ingredient and tool was located. The awareness was intoxicating, like having eyes in the back of my head.

  I grinned, channeling every ounce of experience from a decade of professional kitchen work back on Earth. Time to show these guys what real cooking looked like.

  "Alright, everyone!" I called out, my voice carrying the authority of someone who'd run dinner service for hundreds of covers. "Tonight we start with gai gau dumplings—the pork ones I showed you last time. Then the spring rolls I taught you yesterday, Larry, you're on hot and sour soup duty. Some clay pots should be in that box over there."

  I pointed to two other Sentarian. "You two are handling the siu mai—remember, the pleating technique I showed you. And for the finale..." I paused, already mentally calculating timing and prep work. "Cheung fun. Shit, I'll handle the cheung fun myself—that rice noodle technique is tricky. Someone get a runner to set up tea service!"

  The familiar rhythm of kitchen coordination felt like coming home. For the first time in over a month, I was completely in my element.