Side Chapter
Solas. Aah, Solas. A Capital City in the middle of the Lost Continent, a strong city built by a strong, hearty people, the Sunlets. A modern city, neither living in the past the way the Aeon Slugs do, nor living in the future, the way the Enelim favor.
The present, the modern age. The 'human craze' that had swept across The World had, not to downplay how bad it was everywhere else, taken a particularly deep root in Solas. There was something about modern culture that meshed really, really well with the culture of Solas. What could it possibly be?
It was one city during the day, when the Sunlets would come out to play, and one city at night, when the Sunlets hoarded the light. It was a city of raw industry, where bits and pieces of monsters and materials from The World over would come to be transformed by legendary craftsmen, and shipped out to be turned into miracles of science and magic. It wasn't a place where legendary equipment was forged, it was a place where legendary forges were assembled; where the finest raw mana gems could be processed into their most useful and usable forms. It was where the corpses of legendary monsters were shipped to be transformed into leather, meat, usable bones and nerve-wire; where its blood would be brewed into a liquor or potion; where every part could be exploited and polished to the highest degree possible.
No legendary swords came from Solas, yet, no legendary sword could be made without the City of the Sun.
It sat in a confluence of tremendous danger. To its west, the vast and horrible Overcavern Forest, full of biological bounty and insects of rare and endless variety.
To its east, the Elemental Pit, a vast swath of the surface world the size of a state peeled away, destroyed, a great canyon in reality that reached three layers down. A place where turbulent mana brought everything to life, and elemental beings reigned supreme in their circles. It was a land of supreme danger, yet, it held unlimited treasures in the form of rare crystalized mana, of magical ore, of wild magic that enchanted everything. It rivaled every other location in The World for its sheer magical turbulence, and heroes and villains in equal measure have been forged in its chaos.
To the north, far away yet not far enough, the Ultima Tower, which spewed forth hordes of monsters. A dungeon once challenged by grim faced [Questors], who never succeeded, who left bits of themselves behind with every attempt, till there was nothing left. Now it sat dormant, waiting, only the terrible monsters at it’s base any evidence of the strength lurking inside it’s walls. The Signatory races had never allowed another attempt at completing The Quest after humanity left the first time. Now? The issue would soon be out of their hands.
To the south were wildlands occupied by Ancient Citadels, which had progressed beyond Fortresses and become Dark Cities, home to sentient monster races of a pure and refined malevolence, cultured beings content to view existence itself as the ultimate evil and revel in the nightmare. They were a civilization unto themselves, and nobody knew how deep into The World they had dug themselves in. Their armies would march north, bringing with them peerless weapons and exotic treasure, which could be peeled from their corpses for the price of blood and war. It was a strange kind of trade, but all parties involved were content with the arrangement by virtue of being unable to annihilate the other side.
Swarms of beasts and insects from the Forest East, Hordes of elements and magic from the Wastes West, and Armies of monsters and horrors from the Darklands South. The only thing the Sunlets had to complain about was that the Ultima Tower wasn’t sending legendary creatures, armies unto themselves, to invade from the north.
Solas was a city situated in the heart of a vortex of resources, expertly riding the storm generation after generation, adapting and evolving and never falling. It sat secure on the first layer, the surface, ruling over the newbies as they were inducted, exploiting them for all they were worth and whatever other treasures The System had given them on their way in. Though the magic on the surface was the weakest, the surface world was filled with endless raw materials essential to surviving in the lower, more dangerous layers. Alchemic agents could be farmed, mines effectively mined, forests cut down and monsters could be ranched without too much fear. It was the only safe city non-combat classes could effectively level, where crafters could learn their craft and merchants could ply their trade. Everything on the surface was funneled towards Solas, polished, and then sold for a profit in the layers below.
It was large. Larger, so much larger than New York. Larger than Beijing, larger than Shanghai, larger than Tokyo. Large enough that a man could wander the city for years and never see it all. It extended down like a hand plunged into the ground, reaching for the bottom and finding it, holding secure a passage to the next world down. Down below criminals dealt in dark, smoky rooms while smooth music played and crimes were planned with the high and powerful above. Heists, scams, and schemes against all newcomers were traded like stocks, an idea could make you rich, if you were brave enough to sell it and take what they offered. Solas was a city of money, where it talked, walked and bossed you around; where it could put your ass on a throne or put your ass in the fucking ground. Profit was king, deals were cheap and loyalty was a punchline.
Fortunes were made here, and fortunes were lost, and amid it all, the people of the city worked and leveled and reveled in the energy. The Gangs had names here, and so did the law. Dryden was a pawn on a chessboard where the pieces picked themselves up and schemed, where they painted themselves black or white, the color of whoever was winning, or whoever was paying the most. Where nobody knew who moved the pieces, not even The System himself.
Amid it all. . . an Aeon Slug made waves before he even entered. He came to stand trial and prove his innocence. He'd get an honest judge, a pretty dwarven hammer, but not much else. The law in Solas did not exist to protect the innocent or discover the truth, despite what it claimed. It was a vicious bandit looking to make a bounty in treasure or blood, both whenever it could get it.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
An Heiress being granted the freedom of youth and wealth looked at her home and was, for the first time, nervous about Solas. She, and so many other young people, had done the unthinkable and spent their System Credit, their ability to ask The System to do anything for them, and have it done, for a price. They'd traded the protection of that wealth for. . . a phone, which Ben didn't want to understand, but he would.
Because the funny thing was, it wasn't as bad of a trade as it seemed. Anna had been cut off from the wealth of her family, a punishment for poor judgment and one that had been replicated the world over by horrified parents, family patriarchs and matriarchs. An entire generation of immortals still blessed with youth, obsessed with a species who were blessed with [Eternal Youth], who would never be touched by the corrosion of endless time. An entire generation who, for the first time, saw an alternative to eternal life and found it compelling.
And amid it all, A [Prince], A [Royal Summoner], A [Hunter] and [Actor], A [Dreamer], and an unclassed Beyonder wandered closer and closer to the entrance, covered head to toe in loot from The Beyond, and a conquered Citadel, oblivious to the splash they were about to cause.
If the [Brawler], the [Mage] and the [Rogue] hadn't been so caught up in their own thoughts and worries, they might have said something. . . but then again, they might not have.
After all, Solas was a safe city.
Side Chapter
“[Easy Mode] has been successfully compiled and uploaded to the capitol crystal network,” The System was, as usual, speaking to himself. He was in plurality seated across the room, occupying dozens of chairs, instances of himself working hard on their own individual tasks. He, as in the singular instance of him he occupied, was standing in the most important part of the room, sipping coffee from a mug that read ‘World’s Greatest Boss’ as he managed the other instances.
“Show me the gremlins,” The System said, taking another sip, his red, slitted eyes hard and reptilian as he glared at the gigantic screen on the other side of the room. He was not the devil, but at the moment anyone would be forgiven for thinking he was. The screen, which had been displaying incomprehensible runes and data streams, cut to an image of a group of gremlins in the Overcavern Forest. They were in the process of opening yet another chaotic rift into The Beyond, which had that distinct ‘This will end the universe’ look The System was so familiar with. Something vast and alien to reality itself, something which was incompatible with physical, mental and spiritual law, something Impossible, was extending a tremendous and curious appendage towards the rift. Space and time were rippling around it as they were rendered null by contact with the portal itself.
Then, the instant before the Impossible touched reality and instantly collapsed thirty seven percent of the universe both inside and outside The System, the rift froze, and then started emitting a dial tone as it stopped being a window into The Infinite Never. It instead displayed an image of an instance of The System dressed like a construction worker, looking harried and overworked. Under the image were the words ‘Uh oh! We’re hard at work fixing this feature! Sorry >__< !’
The Gremlins screamed and started throwing things at the portal, which promptly vanished.
“Capture an image of their faces,” the System Boss said, and then immediately turned it into a meme and sent it to all the other System Bosses. He chuckled and took another sip, “That was worth it. What about the other problems?”
“The Inevitable has just exited the Portal Labyrinth after stealing the book from The Teacher of Evil,” one of the System Workers said, watching his console closely.
“Show me.”
The screen changed from gremlins to an average looking human man, holding a book full of demonic magic and secrets. He wasn’t reading, he was following a gremlin, who was holding his hand and leading him forward, babbling incomprehensibly at him in a friendly tone.
“What the fuck is that?” the System Boss said, rubbing his eyes for a moment doing a double take.
“He’s classified as a monster,” the System Worker said, “at the highest authority level. All monstrous beings recognize him as both an ally and their natural leader.”
“Is he in the Overcavern Forest, by the abyss-” the System Boss swore as, almost predicably, the Inevitable was brought into the exact same clearing the screen had been showing before, with the exact same Elder Gremlins throwing a rage fit. The moment they saw the Inevitable, they stopped destroying things and started chattering to one another, and it roughly translated to ‘The Summoning worked. Damn we’re good.’
“Oh,” the System Worker said, looking at the scene, “well that’s not ideal.”
“How long do we have before everything goes to shit?” the System Boss asked, pinching the bridge of his scarlet red, demonic nose with his black clawed, demonic fingers.
“Until the exact moment the Inevitable touches a capitol crystal and activates his [Reality Distortion Field]. We’ve been trolling around in alternate timelines, and they all go dark after that happens. Not dark as in the universe ended, but dark as in impossible to observe. He’s a Lord of The Beyond, so we already knew that was going to happen as soon as he regained his powers.”
“When does he touch the crystal?”
“We don’t totally know, that’s not our department. Timeline Management put out a report on it, as well as a request for more funding and manpower. Apparently even without a Lord of The Beyond running around, the humans are destroying timelines at a disturbing rate.”
“Why did we let them back in again?” the System Boss asked, then spoke quickly, “don’t answer that. Anything in the suggestion box we should be aware of?”
“A bunch of questions about how ‘monster armies forming at an increased rate’ fits into an update called [Easy Mode].”
“How about the fact that fighting monster armies is over seventeen times more profitable in terms of experience and treasure output than any other productive activity?” the System Boss snapped, an evil glint in his eye, “Here’s our new policy: give them the data, and a warning about frivolous use of the suggestion box. Then, if they persist, spawn a monster army at their location and let them find out for themselves.”
“Oh you devil,” the System Worker said, and implemented the policy immediately. “Here’s something you’ll enjoy; someone’s already taken the [Summoner] class, and then moments later they were upgraded to a [Royal Summoner].”
“What!” the System Boss scoffed, “you can’t be serious. Was it an Aeon Slug? It had to have been an Aeon Slug.”
“It was, and get this, it was Vivi!”
“No.” the Boss System said, scandalized, “he got exiled for that! There’s a warrant out for his arrest- Dungeon of Dungeons, change the screen, I have to see this. Everybody, everybody, attention please!” he clapped his hands and dimmed the lights, “We’re taking a break everyone, please turn your attention to the screen. Vivi,” he said, and everyone knew who he was talking about, “Has just become a [Royal Summoner +] and is inbound to Solas.”
There were drama gasps around the room as everyone stopped working and turned their attention to the screen.