Luke experienced a short fall identical to when he first entered the dungeon. He reappeared in the temperate portion of the Beast Divide’s first room. There weren’t as many groups as his first time in the room, although more than enough to create a lack of space around him.
He set his eyes on the iron door covered in ice. First, he took notice of the groups around him, trying to catch if any were paying him misplaced attention. Rather, he meant more malicious focus on Sooty.
After a quick scan, he found that few groups from before were still around. Either they’d gone onto one of the two paths or left the dungeon. That suited him well and let him relax a little. Luke found a comfortable sitting spot, examining the tooltip of Asani’s Jerkin.
[Asani’s Jerkin]
Quality: Rare
Armor: 10
Stats: +11 Agility +11 Intellect
Passive- Asani’s Creation: Grants 10 Poison Resistance as long as Asani’s Jerkin is equipped. Slowly weaves itself back together from all but the most heinous fabric damage.
Required level: 20
Poison resistance and I can skimp on gear repair? Sign me up. Luke thought.
Luke failed to find a modicum of privacy to equip the item. If it were a ring, the issue would be minimal, but he wasn’t brazen enough to go shirtless around a bunch of strangers for a short time. This area was a dungeon, not a pool party.
And he usually would keep his shirt on in the pool, that kind of guy. He also guessed this was a more ‘commonly’ seen rare because it dropped from a re-spawning dungeon boss. If he wore it now, and that party he walked away from laid eyes on him, with the rare piece looking brand new, they’d likely put two and two together.
Instead, he waited for another group to appear, and sure enough, a minute later, a group of five dropped from a short distance in the middle of the room. Each had a scowl on their face. The party a mix of tora and monics with one human included.
The party whispered to themselves, a worthless measure with the superhuman senses higher level people possessed.
“That’s the second time we’ve reached Asani’s lair only to have it cleared out before us. What rotten luck,” A monic woman said.
“Diplomat’s curses on whoever stole it from us,” an agitated-looking tora with yellow fur said.
Stole it? Selective memory that one’s got. Luke noted internally.
“We can come back in about half a day, or try the diremoon lair, don’t think that’s been cleared today.” A monic man who stood out as the group leader said.
“I’d rather get an early night. We looted plenty on the second floor anyhow.” The sole human in the group replied.
Luke tuned out the rest of their grumbling; he felt one of their gazes land on him and then move on to the other parties in the waiting area. They must’ve marked him as an impossibility. No way anyone able to clear the final room by themselves would waste time coming here.
He got up and began to set up the tent he bought earlier. While Luke thought the first time he’d use it would be to sleep out in the wilderness, life kept giving surprises. He selectively filtered out a few comments on what sort of crazy would set up a tent in the area, but most people were unbothered by Luke’s antics.
With the sturdy tent set up, Luke went in. He brought Sooty in with him, as well as the two artifacts. Plenty of groups tried to mask interest in his bird but failed brilliantly. Luke’s senses were too honed by his time in the tomb. The amateurs around Luke couldn’t hide blatant greed from him.
“Let’s get this over with,” Luke said. He began to take off the Scarlet Tunic to equip Asani’s Jerkin.
Sooty held a wing out over Xera’s crystal. Luke had laid the sword wand near him on the tent cloth flooring. Whispering Edge was laid in front of him.
“Sooty, stop! I want to see,” Xera said.
“A moment, lad, are you tryin’ to change your gear out? Namely, that sorry excuse for a tunic?”
Luke paused and answered, “That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Wayfinder, now, if you’ll excuse me…”
“No need to grace us with your shirtless visage, lad; open up that fancy Interface of yours for a moment.”
The Reaver decided to listen to Wayfinder. The compass rarely led him astray. He opened the Interface.
“Alright, now what?”
“Focus your attention on the new item you’re tryin’ to put on.”
Luke did so, and another window popped up.
[Equip Asani’s Jerkin?]
“…”
“You mean to tell me I could’ve done this from the start?” Luke became depressed by his ignorance.
“Done what? Done what? Sooty, let me see already.” Xera said.
“Xera, people can still hear us; remember that,” Luke whispered.
Xera gasped and went quiet. Sooty continued to keep Xera blinded until Luke was done changing. Wayfinder lowered his voice as well, a hint of embarrassment present in his voice from also forgetting that fact.
“Aye, forgot to mention it to you for so long since I've no need for clothes. But me previous owners could always ‘swap’ out equipment items through their inventory.” Wayfinder’s needle aimed at Luke, “There’s a few limits; its got to be considered a ‘quality’ item to work, and you can’t be in a tussle. Those regular clothes with no rarity can only be put on the old fashion way.”
With Wayfinder's explanation, Luke stopped a question dead in his throat. Why would a compass remember a specific detail about equipping items? Wayfinder had no equipment slots after all. Having enough time would lead you to know all sorts of things, but it may take a particular situation to remember it. Luke put on Asani’s Jerkin. His chest flashed silver, and the Inventory overtook his vision. Scarlet Tunic had replaced itself in the slot Asani’s Jerkin previously occupied.
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The rare item now comfortably wrapped around his chest, and the black silk weave chest item was form-fitting around his upper body, except near his wrists, which turned closer into cuffs. He quickly figured out a small detail that the description omitted. The inner lining naturally warmed his core.
He figured cinder-web material would naturally be warm. Luke rolled with it. He picked up Xera and Whispering Edge. His farworlder Inventory ability proved convenient for cleanup. He touched the tent, and it entered the Inventory; no teardown needed. The same couldn’t be said for setting up items, however.
Nearly half the room had their eyes on him as he exited the tent.
Do these people have nothing better to do but pay attention to me? Piss off already. Luke thought.
Annoyed by the constant eyes inspecting his every move and whispers haunting his ears, Luke began to leave for the Icebound door. He’d instead find company with monsters. At least their intentions were clear. They wanted dinner; he wanted experience. You win some, you lose some.
“That guy’s bird talked again! Did he think we’d not hear through the tent? Foolish.” An elfish woman said, sounding strangely jealous.
Luke thanked his lucky stars for the misunderstanding, but this damn dungeon was going to give him a heart attack. Every time he got near people, he was in a web of lies, and Luke wasn’t an experienced enough spider to spin them adequately. He began to walk to the blue wisps nearby.
A man stepped in front of the snow path to the ice side of the room, in front of the blue wisps holding back the intense cold on the other side. He wore dark plate armor and wielded a blood-red spear with a yellow shield.
“Leave the companion behind, Farworlder, and you can go,” He commanded.
The man’s group, consisting of a monic archer, a tora rogue, and two humans in cloth, circled Luke.
The Reaver's face turned flat; ice began to creep into the surroundings. The human fool before him mistook it as an outburst from the frost wisps behind. Luke emoted to Sooty through Reaver’s Link; she was to rip out the caster's throats the moment he casted Essence Fissure.
Luke saw Sooty’s feathers turn stiff, and her claws gripped tightly on his shoulder piece. A fissure began to rip through the air above, the cold pressure about to descend.
“Stop, you ignorant fools, or you’ll all die.” A human woman called out from behind near the portal, a bow held in her right hand, and high-quality leather armor hugged her figure. Red hair stopped at her upper back, contrasted by brown eyes. A strong aura surrounded her, too high quality for a lower dungeon like the Beast Divide.
Adjusting to the interruption, Luke tentatively stopped the Essence Fissure’s formation. The bow seemed familiar to Luke; he swore it was the same one he saw on Sylen’s streets.
“And who are-” The human in dark plate stopped his words; his eyes became pin-points. “Lady Veyri, why is a hunter of your caliber here?”
Veyri stepped closer to Luke, “I owe a friend a favor, and came early to this place. Imagine my disgust when this is the first scene to greet my eyes.”
The man stymied a scowl, and his party members began to back away from Luke. He said, “Fine then, we’ll go.” The man purposely walked by Luke and whispered, “You won’t keep what’s yours for long.”
My hands won’t be blood-free by the end of the week. Luke sighed internally.
Veyri, with her sharp senses, called the man out, “You dense low-life, I stepped out to save your life, not his,” she pointed to Luke, “best you never enter his sight again, or you’ll stop breathing a few seconds later.”
The man’s features distorted further, muttering curses. His team left with him, leaving through the portal out of Orlan’s Beast Divide.
“Some people are blinded by greed, don’t worry about them,” Veyri said, turning to Luke.
Luke figured her interference only delayed the inevitable but felt grateful for the unexpected hand. “Thanks, they called you Veyri, right?” Luke said.
“They did, and your name is?” Veyri said.
“Luke, I owe you one,” he observed Veyri, “Not that someone who ascended once or twice needs a favor from me. Either way, I’m kept out of trouble for another day. See you around, Veyri. Need to run off before another person tries something stupid.”
Once Veyri gave the nod, and he was sure it wasn’t rude to do so, Luke left. Veyri stood there, apparently ensuring no one else was to follow him, at least not right away. The Reaver appreciated the gesture.
Although, on second thought, it kept thieves behind him with room-temperature IQ alive for a little longer. In the dungeon's depths, Luke wouldn’t spare those who targeted Sooty. This place had tested his patience, and the beasts were the least of his concerns so far.
He leisurely walked into the snow path, past the blue wisps keeping the cold back. With the frost resistance, the blistering cold caused little more than slight shivers. The green crystals were easier on the eyes. Blue water trickled over the snow path and pooled on both sides. Luke touched the ice-covered iron door. He reached out to touch it.
Two pairs of blue-green arms gripped him by the legs. Before Luke drew Whispering Edge out to cut the arms off, they dragged him beneath the snow. His vision went white for a moment.
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Luke’s boots dug into semi-dense packed snow. He could find an ice sheet at its bottom if he pressed deep enough. In the spot he spawned at, there were a few parties around him, busy with a regular ice wolf pack. Another side had the full attention of a singular snow bear.
With his fellow dungeon-goers taking the beasts on in the immediate spawn area, Luke found himself in no danger. He put the snow bear over in his Interface.
[Beast Divide Snow Bear]
Level: 15
HP: 410/410
Snow bears on the ice horde’s first floor are solitary creatures, rarely faced alone by those new to the Beast Divide.
One hunter party was busy with the snow bear. Luke felt secondhand embarrassment, but then again, if they were all level ten, he could understand.
“Beasts here are used to the cold and probably won’t be as affected by my frost either. May be more slack for you pick up, Sooty,” Luke said.
Caw. Sooty responded; light snow started to fall onto her feathers, and she occasionally shook it off.
Around the spawn area was a gentle flurry of snow. However, dozens of yards in the area direction turned into an increasingly harsh snowfall. The air around him stayed stagnant for now. Without a breeze, all Luke could smell was beast blood and snow. Not the worst scent in the world, at least for the snow part. A snow crunch sound followed Luke as he moved about. With no party to follow, he took out a map. Based on what beasts were around, he had spawned in the third spot he found on the map. Considered middle difficulty, which, to Luke, meant no difficulty.
According to the map, you’d find one of the two entrances to the second floor north of the spawn point. He’d know he was close when sloping mountains were in sight. He took out Xera and Whispering Edge, Infusing them both. Luke began to trail to the next floor. The first floor here wouldn’t do anything other than waste his time. He trudged briskly, stopped by what Luke could only describe as a disfigured sloth.
It had pure white fur, a hunched back, and a short face. Its claws erupted from its paws, half a foot in length. The beast gazed at him from afar and lumbered toward him silently. That was the thing with some creatures in cold environments; they wouldn’t roar or charge at you in an attempt to conserve energy. With the free time, Luke inspected the beast, which continued to slow its movement, wary of Luke’s nonchalance.
[Hunched Sloth Beast] (Elite)
Level: 18
HP: 900/900
Considered one of the four red-list elites to roam Orlan’s ice horde first floor. Once it smells you, it slowly chases without stopping. Often unable to wipe out hunter parties due to its lack of speed, yet kills one or two members with a frightening consistency.
Luke’s eyes flashed a silver blue; essence came to his eyes at a subconscious command. He matched the beast’s step cadence. Sooty stayed put on his shoulder. Her eyes darted to a few flying beasts above the winter sky, partially concealed by gray clouds. Luke Infused himself, then pounced forward, ready to skewer another beast.