Arata's eyes opened. Just like in the bamboo field, he found himself lying on the ground like a starfish.
"Where... am I?"
Looking around, Arata found himself somewhere underground. The spacious floor upon which he lay looked like it was part of a large, arched room. Dozens of torches upon the walls around him illuminated the wide stone hall. Beneath them, there were circular holes in the wall through which fresh air seemed to be coming in from somewhere outside.
A good distance away from the boy, two doors of stone could be seen. They were standing next to each other, seamlessly fitted into the wall, making it look like they were carved out of it. The one to the left was tall and wide whereas the one to the right was short and narrow.
Now on his feet, the boy noticed something more peculiar. From behind the walls, there was some kind of shock wave that could be seen. Its color was a faint white that spread toward the two doors. After a few moments of observation, Arata realized that the same thing was happening underneath the floor he was standing on. Below the stone surface he could even make out relatively small, white veins. Tiny white particles seemed to travel through them which reminded him of seeing water flowing from underneath the surface of a frozen river.
Wanting to trace the shock wave back to its origin, the boy turned around where he saw two, gigantic stone statues. Both looked like they were at least 12 metres tall, with a humanoid body structure. Their hands were, respecfully, holding onto a long, black javelin. They appeared rather abstract, like a sculpture. The only unique feature they had were the blindfolds each of them was wearing, which looked like they were sculpted out of stone as well.
Right in between the statues stood a podium made of white stone. It seemed to be the origin of where the white pulse was coming from. On top of it lay a red pillow with golden ornaments.
"Humans. Haven't had you in a while," a voice resounded from everywhere in the hall.
Arata winced at the sudden sound and turned back around.
"But you. You look too young for one of those... reckless guys."
The boy turned around again.
"For an adventurer, that is," the voice resounded.
The boy frowned. Despite looking around, he couldn't see anyone besides the two stone statues.
"The pillow."
The boy took a closer look at the red and golden pillow. On top of it, he could make out a white marble. It was tiny. About the same size of those glass marbles used for that marble game that was renown among children.
When Arata took a few steps closer, he realized that it was the marble that was emitting those white shock waves. Its inside shone, swirled and pulsed with these white particles - absorbing, retaining and releasing them. The second thing he noticed was that the sculptures had turned their heads to the boy.
"Now, young one, what is your name?"
"Ara- Arata," the boy said innocently.
"So, Arata... What brings you here? You're not an adventurer, are you?
"No, I... I don't know how I got here."
"Neither do I," the voice said matter of factly, "You suddenly popped out of one of the tunnels here in the walls. Which should be impossible, I made sure of that. Anyway... adventurers, dungeon divers, pioneers. Do you know any such people? Or were you perhaps sent by them?"
The boy shook his head.
"And what- are you?" Arata asked curiously.
"I'm a dungeon core."
"Dun-geon-core," the boy pondered the words, "What is that?"
"Well, a dungeon core... is the core of a dungeon. Its heart, its power source. It's what creates all the levels and monsters and rewards and so forth. But after having cultivated this dungeon and having fended off greedy humans and other beings who entered, I've become prone to… decay."
At these words the shiny white particles inside of the marble faded away. And as they did, several cracks on its transparent surface were revealed.
"Which is bad. You see, if a dungeon core is destroyed, then so is the dungeon since it is an extension of the core itself."
This was new to Arata. In the video games he'd played that were centered around clearing dungeons, as far as he remembered, there had never been any mention of so called 'dungeon cores'. Once you'd killed the dungeon boss you passed and moved on.
However, this newfound insight did make sense. After all, defeated monsters and foes would in some cases respawn. After a failed clear attempt or after revisiting a formerly cleared dungeon. An engine managing everything from behind the scenes seemed plausible enough as an answer to how that was possible.
"That being said, I'm afraid you have to leave. Every day more and more cracks appear on my surface. Sort of how you humans start getting wrinkles on your skin at a certain age. I don't know how much time I have left."
The boy's face grew a bit pale. "But... But where should I go?"
"You see those two doors behind you? You can choose either of them to lead you out of this place."
Arata turned around and walked toward the two doors that were standing right next to each other. Obviously, the difference in size made the one to the right appear rather repelling. Even with the size of a child Arata would have to walk bent over to go through it. The one to the left seemed more inviting. It was wide enough for him to walk while taking up as much space as he wanted and tall enough for the boy to have to take several steps away from the door in order to look up and see its head.
The larger one also looked like it was carved tenderly. It felt smooth and warm when the boy's hand stroked over its surface. The smaller door, however, looked rough. It felt cold upon touching and left a couple of light scratches. Contemplating which door to choose, Arata sat down on the floor. One door offered more incentives than the other but not knowing what was behind either made settling uncertain. What if there was more than what met the eye? Moments passed as the boy pondered his options.
"If I may give some advice, I'd like to say this: Just as you likely noticed, the door to the left is the path of least resistance. You may feel inclined to take this path where you will find a life full of safety, certainty and convenience. Along this path you will have many of your heart's desires met. But don't be mistaken. At the end of that path you will surely die."
The words echoed through his mind, ringing inside the little boy's ears.
"The door to the right is different. It is the path that is paved with risk, mystery and challenges. Along this path you will experience many hardships. But whosoever makes it to the end awaits life."
Again the words echoed through his mind, ringing inside Arata's ears.
"The choice is yours."
Arata leaned back on his arms and looked up at the ceiling. Unfortunately, there was no moon to sink into or any stars to marvel at, just a rocky ceiling with spiky stalagmites. Tired of the pain, what Arata didn't want was to look back and in the end find that everything that had been had just repeated itself. One door seemed to offer exactly that, the other not so much. When it appeared as though the boy had made a decision, the smell of soil and fresh air came back to mind. The sound of bamboo shaking in the wind.
Arata got on his feet. With decisive steps he approached the two doors. As he was doing so, the giant one swung wide open whilst the smaller one remained shut. Warm and welcoming air caressed Arata's skin. But instead he bent down, laid his hands on the cold and rough door and tried pushing it open. After much struggle, the narrow door gradually opened and Arata was greeted by cool air.
He turned around one last time and waved.
"Bye!" he called, before entering.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Soon he couldn't be seen anymore and the door slammed shut behind him.
"See you... Little warrior."
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Huffing, Arata finally made it up the last couple stairsteps.
The corridor into which the door had led had been narrow. So much so that walking bent over at first and eventually crawling in complete darkness had become the only way to move forward. After some time, though, the boy had encountered a touch of light that had come down a steep stairway leading upwards.
Now atop of this stairway, right above the boy could see a giant hole in the ceiling. Snow flakes gently entered through it, glittering in the light of dawn. As Arata turned around, he realized how hidden the stairway really was in the midst of a plentitude of roots. They belonged to a tree that stretched out and leaned toward the ceiling's hole in pursuit of light. It looked somewhat like a fig tree.
Arata stood there in awe of the tree's tenacity. Its trunk and branches looked dry, its environment was mostly rock and yet it had still managed to somehow survive. It appeared not to be bearing any fruit but after looking more closely, the boy noticed one. Far out, close to the ceiling's opening there was a single, ripe fruit dangling in the light.
After having climbed up the tree and taken the purple fruit off of it, the tree soon withered and decayed, as though it had fulfilled its purpose. The fruit itself on the other hand had to be the juiciest thing young Arata had ever eaten in his life. Its sweet taste engulfed the boy's mouth while invigorating and strengthening his body.
Other than that, the rest of the cave was pretty ordinary. A dead end behind the tree, rocks and arched walls. Since there was nothing more to see or do, Arata moved in pursuit of the cave's entrance. It didn't take long for him to be greeted by cold air, light of dawn and a wintery scenery.
The boy looked around. Trees upon trees, covered in snow. The thought of going back into the cave crossed his mind, but he discarded it, knowing that there was nothing worth wile in it. Not knowing where to go, the boy cluelessly made his way into the forest. Trudging through the snow, in the direction from where the sun rays were coming from.
"Hello?" Arata called out.
Even after several minutes of walking, there was nothing to be seen, nothing but trees. What the boy didn't know was that he did in fact have company, increasingly so. One by one, more and more black feathered, silent spectators gathered. Onlooking from on high, from the trees' branches.
Finally, there was a change of scenery. A glade, in the middle of which stood a large, pitch black stone. It was peculiar in the sense that in the otherwise snow-covered landscape there was neither snow on nor around it. Beneath and outgoing from it were what looked like black little veins which spread through the surrounding ground.
As Arata looked at the stone, not knowing what to make of it, he began hearing a faint but distinct noise. As if something solid was being hammered against. Being the only noise audible in the otherwise quiet forest, it sounded a bit eerie. But curious as to where the sound was coming from, the boy approached the stone.
Now, from up close, he could tell that the stone had to be the noise's origin. It sounded as though the stone was in fact hollow and something inside it was knocking against it. Bit by bit, cracks started appearing on the stone's surface until the entire rock shattered.
Arata took some steps back, as some odd kind of black liquid spilled all over the ground, revealing a figure. Motionless, it just lay there. The best guess Arata could come up with was that it looked like some kind of bird. Wondering if it was dead, the boy drew close to get a better look, but then the creature suddenly jumped onto its feet which scared the boy off. At least enough to take some steps backwards.
The creature staggeringly tried to keep its balance for a while and once it had accomplished that, shook its body which got rid of the black liquid it was covered by. It was indeed a bird. It could be best described as something similar to a raven turned bird of prey. Its overall build looked much more predatory. It had huge talons, powerful wings, and a sharp, curved beak. Above the latter were on each side of the bird's front skull three, horizontally aligned black eyes.
They soon noticed the boy's presence upon which the creature turned to face him entirely. Then the bird broke eye contact and let out a loud screech to which many other screeches chimed in. When the boy took his eyes off the bird and gazed at the surrounding trees, he realized that they had nearly become unrecognizable. Crows upon crows, ravens upon ravens, and other winged creatures were sitting on the branches.
After the noises had died down a little, a strange multitude of voices could be heard saying, "Look at me, boy."
Caught off guard, Arata turned around but couldn't see anyone.
"Right here, you idiot."
Having learned from his encounter with the dungeon core, Arata turned to face the bird on the ground. Again there had been this multitude of voices. It appeared as though there were many voices simultaneously resounding yet coming from the same source. The bird was looking straight at him, and even though it had a beak and not a mouth, the boy could swear there was a grin on its face.
"Much better. Now come a bit closer."
Hesitantly, young Arata stepped closer, even if only a bit. There was something about this whole setting that put him off.
"Now tell me," the voices continued, "what is a child like you doing out here? In the middle of nowhere? All alone?"
Arata gulped. "I- uh... am not from here."
"I can tell, you dunce."
The boy winced.
"I've been around for a while but never have I seen clothes like the ones you're wearing."
Arata's stomach growled audibly. He hadn't had a proper meal in a while and so, somewhat hopeful, he asked, "Do you… perhaps have something to eat?"
The entire glade was filled with silence. Then croaked laughter.
"Something to eat?" the creature responded incredulously. "Look at me, you fool. Do you think I sow, reap or store? No. I come, I see, and I take what's mine. And then I take some more... But I think I can help you."
The bird flew up and landed on Arata's shoulder. Looking deep into his eyes, he asked him, "Do you want to survive?"
When Arata had just opened his mouth to respond, the bird's figure rapidly contorted itself into something shadowy before it forcefully wound its way into the boys mouth and then down his throat. Arata fell onto the ground, his limbs moving around arbitrarily. Only a few seconds passed until his eyes rolled back into his head while his unconscious body kept spasming around.
Just as promptly as all this came to be, it ceased, leaving the boy lying on the ground still. Then, one at a time, Arata's limbs moved so that the boy stood up straight again. His eyes opened and gazed around. The surrounding mass of crows and ravens had become still, onlooking with expectation.
The boy's head then faced the sky and suddenly a loud screech left the boy's mouth. What followed were a few moments of silence until a storm of screeches erupted. Thousands of crows, ravens, and other winged creatures started flying around, setting into the sky, forming a swarm which circled over the clearing.
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Arata opened his eyes. He looked around but found himself all alone. No screeches, no feathers, no birds.
The birds!
The boy looked from side to side, to no avail. It was just him in the glade. Arata let out a sigh of relief and smiled.
Ah, finally.
Arata frantically turned around.
Took you long enough.
But couldn't see anybody or anything. Nothing but trees.
We're inside of you, boy.
Arata's face grew pale. "What? What do you mean?!"
You have become our host.
Arata fell to his knees and buried his head between his arms. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!"
You may not like that. You don't have to. You just need to yield.
Arata, however, didn't listen and kept screaming and revolting. After some time had passed, a sudden wave of pain made the child shut up.
Do not test our patience. What our relationship will look like depends entirely on you. Symbiosis or ruthless parasitism, both works for us.
From what he heard, the boy didn't understand a thing. But what he intuitively got a grasp of was the fact that this being inside him somehow had control over his body. Moreover, that it was capable of and willing to induce unprecedented sensations of pain in the boy's body in order to have its way.
Do we understand eachother?
Tediously, the boy squeezed a quick 'Yes' out of his mouth.
Good. Now, it would be great for us to find and join some of your kind. Humans.
At these words, two black wings emerged out of the boy's back. Before even getting a proper look at them, they carried him up into the sky. Strangely, Arata didn't feel like screaming although this occurrence was completely out of the ordinary. A few hundred metres above the ground, the swift lift came to a halt.
Mhh.
The boy looked around. Behind him in the distance was the cave out of which he came, behind which a massive mountain range stretched into the sky. Ahead of him was endless snowy forest. However, not too far away, there could be seen smoke rising up in the distance.
"There-There's smoke! That means other people might be around."
More like definitely.
With that being said, the wings brought the boy back to the ground. And without much of a choice Arata headed into the direction from where he saw the smoke rising.
Boy, what is your name?
Still not fond of having this being live inside him, Arata said, "I don't want to tell you."
Then we shall call you 'peasant' from now on.
"Arata."
What?
"My name is Arata. What is your name?"
We are 'Grimm'.
"We?"
Suddenly, the sound of an explosion resounded, mixed with the noises of crashing trees falling onto the ground.
As Arata cautiously drew closer, it suddenly got quiet. Now afraid of somehow missing out on what was transpiring, the boy hurried to make his way to where the noise had come from.
At the end of a little cliff, Arata came to a halt. Down below, at a depth of approximately 10 metres, a knight in shining armor could be seen. Right hand placed on his torso, he crawled through the snow. The knight's chances of survival seemed low judging by the blood trail that he was leaving behind. Even more so when the cause of his misery appeared. A four metre tall creature with hair white as snow, albeit partially burned, carrying a scorched, wooden, spiked club in one of its massive hands, with a somewhat humanoid appearance.
Aratas jaw dropped. "A yeti?"
Ah yes. Although quite rare, they've become more common here. Inherently, they're rather reserved creatures. But due to the empire's endeavours in establishing human residencies in the far northern outskirts, these fairly intelligent beasts are now more territorial than ever.
The knight in the meanwhile had stopped crawling and instead laid with his back against a tree. Even just breathing seemed arduous to him and with no other options he decided to do the only thing that was left for him to do. In a last ditch effort, the knight gathered every last bit of power in his body to raise his right hand and… show the beast his chivalrous middle finger.
Unimpressed, the yeti trotted toward the knight whose response was to raise the hand that was flipping the bird even higher. The yeti stopped in front of the knight and the two just starred into each other's eyes. Then, with a huff, the yeti swung his club.
Haehaehaehae. Welcome to Gundua, child.