The main issue of Seth being rendered unconscious was not evident to the members of his party, not even those who were clued into the secret of his identity. It was simply because of a misunderstanding of how his abilities worked by those few individuals.

While Seth did have the ability to split his focus between multiple instances, controlling various bodies at the same time, such as speaking with one body while he fights with another, that was simply as far as it went.

He divided his focus, not his mind or rather his consciousness. Even when he slept, it was mainly his body that slept rather than his consciousness, which was often awake for days on end by bouncing between bodies.

Thus, in rendering him unconscious before he was able to separate his consciousness, and soul, from his 'mortal shell' it meant that he was completely unable to control his puppets back in the city.

Thankfully, just like the previous time they were completely cut off from their master, the majority of his puppets were being controlled by his trusty Spirit Animals.

Really, the only one who suffered from Seth's lapse in judgement, other than Astra, was Corvus. Curiously enough, his alter ego had been rendered immobile before Seth lost consciousness, as his feral mind cared little about controlling a puppet miles away when it could be focused on blood, death and destruction.

The main issue caused by this was the Lord's input in the money production. To keep others from replicating their currency, the city's economist suggested using a mana marking system. Similar to the UV marks of the previous world's money, Ravenkeep money would be marked with the Lord's mana trace to act as a seal of what was true currency and separate it from the counterfeit.

Freshly minted money would be brought to the castle to be sealed by the Lord, before being brought to their 'bank' to be distributed. Because of the Shattering, and all of the repairs and changes in their economy the influx of meat brought, they had to create an extra large few batches of coins, which were waiting for the Lord's seal.

However, since their Lord was otherwise disposed, when the Spirit Animal controlled puppet took away the freshly minted coinage to be sealed - much like a store employee telling you they were going to 'check in the back' - it simply disappeared into another room for a few minutes and stood idly, doing nothing at all.

When it emerged, the coinage was completely the same, yet it handed it off happily and let the guards take it to the bank without an issue. It wasn't the first time it had done this, so it didn't raise many suspicions.

Seth had Unkindly guards stationed at the bank, so it wouldn't be much of a problem for him to seal them after he awoke and after they arrived at the bank. He often did the same when he became far too invested in his work and simply forgot to focus on Corvus to give the seals.

In his mind, so long as it all got sealed in the end, What difference did a few hours really make?

***

"It's beautiful boss! How did you manage to pull it off on your own?"

A man with a bald, almost perfectly spherical head and skin like that of an orange, both in colour and texture, gazed into a crate with its top open. A wide, child-like smile was painted across his citrus face as an array of glimmering gold was reflected in his eyes.

Resting comfortably in the crate before him was a pile of golden coins that twinkled enticingly, whispering sinful thoughts of greed into the orange mans ears. Of course it wasn't actually whispering, but that didn't stop his mind putting his own greedy thoughts to the forefront.

"I didn't, those are fakes."

"Fakes?! What? What are you showing me fakes for? Are you trying to make me cry, getting my hopes up like that?"

The orange skinned man looked up in despair towards his 'Boss', a larger man with fire in place of his hair. All of his hair, that was. From his beard and his eyebrows, to his arm hair as well as his chest hair, which caused him to always wear his shirt open to proudly display his fiery mane. All of it was formed of soft, crackling red flames.

He also had some flaming hair further down, but he was less proud of that and definitely wasn't going to display it. Especially since it made women not want to be with him, of fear of being burned.

These two were not the only ones in the room. There was also a skinny, skittish middle aged man with waxy, mossy green skin and hair like cactus needles. Another gentleman, this one with purple skin, stood to the side with his arms crossed in a desperate attempt to seem cool and aloof.

Unfortunately for this group, their appearances were mostly the end result of their mutations. Simple changes to skin tone or what it was made out of, instead of abilities that could topple giants or slay monsters.

They were the bottom of the barrel, the ones who would be tossed aside by natural selection. The 'F ranks', as some called them.

Evolution, as a concept, simply wasn't fair. Even when it was a magically enhanced and incredibly sped up process, evolution was never going to be fair. There was always a risk, a gamble and these men were horrible gamblers.

But there was nothing they could do about it. No rerolls, no do over. They were stuck like they were and simply had to carry on, a concept they did not agree with. They would have no trouble finding work, nor were they ostracised or treated poorly. They were treated exactly the same as those without powers, the 'mortals'.

That was where the crux of their issue lay. They were the mythical 'evolved', they had earned their power, even if that earning simply came from having a somewhat decent body before the apocalypse. But even still, they deserved true power. They were rightfully owed a life of luxury, just like the rest.

It wasn't their fault that they had bad luck? They had power, so why should they bother working like some mortal.

Of course, they completely ignored the fact that many other people with powers worked, such as those who worked as guards. Such facts were counterproductive to their expectations of an easy life. Thus the crate, and it's glimmering contents.

The fiery boss chuckled at the orange man's question, scooping up a fistful of the fake coins and letting them pour between his fingers.

"They're good copies, right? Got a buddy down at the mint, let one of the presses slip through the cracks, so I made my own."

"But Boss... If you made them, that means they ain't got the seal..."

"Yeah, that's what makes them fakes you idiot."

"I mean... No one is gonna take coins without seals. So what are we gonna do with them?"

"It's simple, we're gonna switch 'em for the real deal. Every time the mint makes a batch, it sends it to the castle for the seal before they take it to the bank. And after all that portal business, they made an extra big load for the relief and construction.

All we gotta do is a classic switch, and we'll have all that money in our pockets instead. We deserve it more than those useless mortals anyways."

The boss chuckled again, puffing out his chest in pride of his genius plan. He had spent nearly two months planning it out, watching the route that the transport took and figuring out all the steps he would need to take to do a successful switch.

When he had heard about the relief funds, he couldn't help himself. He pushed himself extra hard, gathering up scrap gold - mainly from the old worlds coins - in order to turn them into the new currency of Ravenkeep.

It took a few sleepless nights, but it was definitely going to be worth it in the end. If he was feeling nice, maybe he would give them a larger cut of the loot. 1% each was already pretty generous, in his opinion. But maybe they could work hard and earn 2% instead. Yeah, that sounded good.

What a generous boss he was to these little shrimps. All he had to do was wait a few hours for the next transport to come, swap out the freshly sealed coins and he would be rich, just like he deserved to be. It was completely foolproof!

***

Seth let out a low, strained groan as he peeled his eyelids open. His head ringing within his skull as he slowly sat up.

His head was fuzzy, his memories of everything after the crash landing was scattered to the wind. Not to mention, there was an odd taste of burnt toast lingering in his mouth.

Smacking his tongue in disgust, he opened his eyes fully in search for water, only to see Astra sitting nearby with Omelette's head resting in her lap. She was gently stroking his head when she turned to him, noticing the movement.

With a soft smile, she spoke.

"Hey you, finally awake I see."

Seth grumbled and immediately laid back down, rolling over and decided to go back to sleep instead. The water wasn't worth it.