“So, how did the province end up this way?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Vesma admitted. “I’ve read chronicles and geographies up to a few decades ago that talk about this valley as a farming center, using sophisticated irrigation to water earth enriched by Vigor. Something drastic must have happened to change that.”
“How are they even feeding anyone?”
It bothered me, seeing a part of the world like this. I was used to the fact that there was violence in the Seven Realms, people dying at the hands of others’ greed and ambition. But this felt particularly futile, like so many famines I’d seen in the news back on Earth, people starving because of a failure to move food to the right place at the right time. Seeing such mundane tragedy took the sheen off a world rich with magic.
“They must import most of their food,” Vesma said.
“Like, with the money from mercenary work?” Kegohr asked.
“Unlikely. They were banned from that for centuries, and the culture around it died.”
“Then from what?”
“They export fermented cactus spirits, so I guess that’s part of it. Monster cores too, hunted here and exported to other earth guilds.”
I was so used to core hunting being something done by Augmenters to boost their own power, I’d never thought of anyone doing it professionally for trade before.
As we talked, we walked deeper into the Vigorous Zone. Earth, abandoned farms, and rocky outcrops gave way to a desert-like area of sand dunes that spilled from the mountainous crags on our left down to the depleted river on our right, almost obliterating the line of the road.
A movement among the dunes caught my eye. At first, I thought it was just the wind blowing the sand around, but then I saw something gray and angular emerge, a humanoid figure six feet tall and made entirely of stone.
I held up a hand, and the others stopped. We watched as the creature stalked toward us, a stone scimitar in each hand. Others followed, either walking behind it or rising out of the sand that cascaded like water off their sharply jointed frames.
“Lesser stone golems,” Vesma said. “Like Mahrai’s monster but less powerful.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Kegohr hefted his mace. “Less powerful than that thing still don’t mean weak.”
“Far from it,” Vesma said. “And they have a reputation for being territorial. If we don’t want to fight, then we should run right now.”
I drew the Sundered Heart Sword. “It’s been a restful walk so far. And I could really do with some stone cores to add to my powers.”
Vesma grinned. “Let’s do this.”
“Give me your bags,” Kumi said. “I’ll hang back. With so little water, my ability to fight is sadly diminished.”
We handed over the haversacks, then strode up the dunes toward the oncoming golems. There were six of them, each with a pair of matching stone blades. They weren’t identical, but nothing stood out from their uneven stone features to tell one from another.
The leading golem charged at me, its weapons held high. Some of my Vigor had returned since the fight at the city, so I gathered a Smothering Mist. Unlike Kumi, whose Augmenting was all about using the water around her, my water magic drew upon power within me, fueled and shaped by the cores I had absorbed. That magic was at my disposal, and I made the most of it now.
The magic poured out of my body and coated the monster in a thick, liquid sheen. Fire might not have been useful as an offensive weapon against them, but it still had its uses in defense. I channeled the Vigor down my arm and formed a Flame Shield.
The golem charged me at full speed, the downhill run adding to its momentum. It was about to slam into me with the full force of a human-sized stone, a blow that would leave me battered and broken in the dirt. At the last second, I ducked down into a crouch and lashed out as hard as I could at the golem’s legs. It stumbled, slammed into my raised shield arm, and toppled. I pushed the shield up, throwing it off balance, and it hurtled over my head to crash face-down in the sand beyond.
I leaped on the prone golem, sword held high. It twisted its arm around, and I noticed the joint where the stone of its forearm ground against the upper arm. I slammed my sword down there. The blade went between the two parts of the arm and drove them apart, severing the forearm.
With a growl like a rockslide descending a mountain, the golem forced itself up and flung me off. Now, I was the one vulnerable, lying in the heaped sand by the side of the road. I flipped back to my feet, and the golem’s blade hit the ground where I had been a moment before.
Now that we were both on our feet, we went at each other, sparks flying as blades of stone and steel clashed. I could feel Nydarth’s discomfort as her beautifully constructed weapon battered against the crude stone construct, but she never complained. She understood as well as I did how vital this moment was because it meant another core and, potentially, a new technique.
I blocked a strike with my shield and slashed in under the golem’s guard. This time, the Sundered Heart hit the creature’s stomach. Against a flesh and blood opponent, it would have been a killing blow. Against solid stone, it simply bounced off. I really needed to aim for the joints.
The next time the creature struck, I didn’t try to block. Instead, I swayed back and let the blow glide past, inches from my face. I brought the Sundered Heart around behind it and slammed the blade hard into the golem’s wrist. There was a crunch as the joint again gave way and the thing’s hand went flying, scimitar and all. As it stood staring at the
