“A man of hard work! I appreciate that!”
The robust one-eyed man mired by scars approved with a sunny smile after scanning Carl's appearance. He occupied the ground floor main office, which was a sight to behold.
“My name is Maxwell Ironhide. I am the Chief Expedition Coordinator and a swashbuckler extraordinaire, might I audaciously say. A pleasure to make your acquaintance!”
Carl could immediately tell from various hints that the the man was incredibly strong, at least of evolved realm, possibly even ascended, despite him wearing a shabby outfit – this character was likely made not to care about his looks, only about practicality. He radiated endless energy, which positively influenced anyone who met him. The whole sizable room was crammed with impressive trophies of either imposing or rare animals, as well as with a collection of arms and armaments, many of them showing severe wear.
Carl didn't feel like roleplaying with an NPC, so he merely nodded. NPCs were all directed by an advanced AI, and they would recognize cues perfectly. This had been used in criminal interrogations and in espionage for a long time now. If Carl didn't do anything at all, the NPC might have read it as an offense or a misunderstanding.
“And a man of few words, who let's his actions speak for him! I like you more and more, young daredevil!” Maxwell laughed heartily. “Something tells me we'll be seeing each other more often!”
“You bet.”
Carl was told to come here by the clerk he met at the reception, as handling the dungeons with evolved bosses was the chief's responsibility, while all the deputies were delegated to handling the mortal realm.
“I'll have to look into the other advanced dungeons after I upgrade my gear somewhat.”
Following Maxwell, who cleverly adopted Carl's disposition and let his body language do the talking, inviting Carl to a side chamber with a courteous hand gesture, the young hero soon stood before a chromatic vortex inside a refined, silvery portal.
“May I know what the other two portals are for?”
“Hahaha! I like your spunk, Sir Lionheart! This, of course, I cannot tell you of my own volition. You will have to make me!” Maxwell quipped gaily, exhibiting his programmed intellect, as he was obviously referring to finding clues that would allow the players to visit him with regards to the two vortices, one deep purple inside a raw obsidian gateway, and one golden-orange within a splendorous, jewel-encrusted portal – quests, most likely.
Unwilling to engage in small talk on this occasion, Carl didn't say another word. He simply went ahead and stepped through the chromatic event horizon.
What he found on the other side amazed him. The selection was many times bigger than during character creation – all of it of fine quality. The interior itself was much more sophisticated as well, full of miscellaneous garnish, that served no other purpose than to decorate the place and make it appear sumptuous.
Carl sighed. He would have loved to properly examine all the items here and extrapolate what useful information he could, but time was of the essence.
“Maybe the guys will do some investigation. I'll have to ask them if they found anything interesting.”
Briskly walking through the fantastical supermarket, and cursorily glancing at a few items that caught his eye, Carl arrived at the short sword section.
He already knew he couldn't go for an armor set – all the choices here were of similar value, meaning that the small items would be made of better quality materials, which translated to a higher level in traditional RPGs. It was the same as before – though his leather armor cost 30 Silver Sterlings, as much as his battle karambit, the latter was of far superior composition, while the former was basically disposable.
He briefly considered going for some solid bracers, but that just didn't appeal to him as much. He really wanted a powerful weapon.
“Alright, System, I'm going to need your help for this. Filter out everything but knives with a hand guard.”
Abiding by Carl's command, all unwanted items disappeared, while the remaining ones sorted themselves out in a flash.
“Imagine shopping without that convenience … what a drudgery it's going to be …”
Carl quickly put the thought aside, mesmerized by the display of sharp edges and lethal points. There was well over two hundred beautiful daggers of all shapes and sizes before him.
“Mhm, that won't work for me. I need to make the most of Jarring Fist.”
“Just show me all the knuckle daggers with a blade of at least 20 centimeters.”
Convinced that his previous choice was the correct one, Carl soon narrowed down his options to about a dozen. They were all fantastically intricate, as fine quality was the first rank that introduced magical applications. It could be said that the first four ranks reflected the excellence of the other four ranks in this aspect – fine items would possess inferior magic, while supreme items would boast great magic.
Carl began reading the short descriptions. They were nowhere near as insightful as in ordinary games, hardly stating any numbers. There were augments to poison injection, electric capacity, heat transfer, blood thinning, durability, laceration, piercing. Some blades were made of steel, others from minerals, colorful or uniform, and a few from mysterious metals.
Picking one that shined with a beguiling black luster, something clicked in Carl's mind.
[Black Fang] (fine quality, dagger)
Materials: Common earth drake fang, hardened steel, arcane lazurite.
This weapon was crafted by an apprentice master forger.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Blade: While the steeply beveled blade fashioned from an earth drake fang is rather thick and quickly tapers, its serrated double edge excels at cutting and piercing. Although its bulkiness and rounded cross-section increase the resistance of carving through targets, they also help mitigate the negative effects of awry attacks. Its sturdy nature guarantees exceptional durability, albeit at the cost of difficult repair.
Handle: Simple and practical, the hardened steel knuckles offer protection for the entire frontal profile of the fist, while guaranteeing an ironclad grip. Instead of pointy spikes, the flat surface focuses on delivering blunt force trauma over a large area.
Core: The uncomplicated core of arcane lazurite serves only one purpose, and that is to enhance the channeling of mana. While the magical attacks made with this weapon will consume more mana, they will also be significantly strengthened in every regard.
“What a brutal monstrosity!”
Carl beamed with unrestrained delight. Though very crude, this was precisely what he had been striving for – burst damage. Because if he couldn't set the course of the fight with the first strike, and end it within seconds, then he would get overrun. As a downside, it required greater strength to use efficiently, and once it chipped, repairing it was probably pointless. By that time, however, it should have already earned its keep, and Carl could either look for a similar one on the market, or go for a further upgrade.
“Hahaha, a fine choice! You are becoming one of my favorite prospects, Sir Lionheart. Exactly what we need in this age of apathetic luxury and negligent inventions!” Maxwell praised when Carl walked out from the system shop.
Carl, who was in a hurry to leave, balked at the eerie comment.
“What do you mean by that?”
Maxwell rewarded Carl's attention with a show of his teeth, many of which were silver replacements.
“Well, this generation, of course, what else can I mean? They're drifting off into complacency, forgetting what's good for them! In my days, we were all competing against each other with avaricious zeal, eager to one up our rivals through daring feats of courage and exhilarating exploits. Now look at us – sitting comfortably in our soft armchairs, in the coziness of our posh mansions, relegating all honest work to you, young immortals. And where's our own youth? Staying at home with their rich parents, wasting their prime years of curious fascination and passionate initiative, letting the fire in their adolescent spirits fizzle out, or worse yet – falling for the traps of truancy, delinquency and crime. What are we going to do if, heaven forbid, one day you immortals abandon us?” He took an ominous tone towards the end, clearly distraught.
“Hmm, a quest, perhaps?”
“Are you alluding to the fact that I single-handedly killed an evolved beast with the body of a mortal?”
“A glorious achievement, indeed!” Maxwell brightened back up to his usual self. “One that is sure to inspire adventurousness and bravura!”
Carl peered into the cavalier swashbuckler's eyes, who did the same in return … for a good while.
“Not a quest? So what, a hint?”
“Say, Chief Ironhide, are there any young mortals trying to compete with my kind?”
“Ha! How can one possibly compete with someone who literally cannot die? While you can accept all the risks your soul desires, our meager selves can only take it one step at a time, covering all bases. There are some, however, who yet keep their dreams alive. Their noble efforts, unfortunately, are rarely noticed. If only they could attain some fame to approach the stage on which you, immortals, grapple with fate, I'm sure more would follow!”
Carl smiled internally, which had shown in some nuance on his face, as Maxwell seemed to be waiting in anticipation.
“Why not join forces, then? What better companion to defend a budding hero than an immortal?”
“Haha! My thoughts, word for word! Now, most of you are still feeble and immature, to say it charitably. But were there some among you, who have already made a name for themselves, I reckon a few enterprising mortals would find their care dependable. Wouldn't you agree?”
“Oh boy, NPC helpers? Sounds too good to be true. I wonder – how strong are they? If they're much weaker than me, then they might actually turn out to be a detriment. If I can't keep them alive, my reputation will surely suffer. Although … big risks, big rewards? Hmm, not really sure I want that. It may interfere with my style too much, and I would most likely have to split loot with them anyway.”
“And where would such opportunists congregate?”
Maxwell grinned with glee, his goal all but accomplished.
“They don't, I'm afraid, but! That doesn't mean they're not out and about. If, by any chance, some distinguished personage, like a Beast Slayer for example,” he winked, “were to make an announcement, I'm confident they would come running.”
“I haven't yet been to the City Hall to officially receive my title.”
“Ah, once you do, be sure to relay my regards to Magister Albertus. Tell him his teachings are not lost on me!”
Carl nodded.
“One more thing, before I go.”
“Of course. Anything I can do to help,” Maxwell offered generously.
“Can you tell me anything about the honorable Heroic Spirits?”
“Heroic Spirits?! My!” The man jumped up. “That sounds like something taken straight out of myths! Although I know nothing on that matter, I'm sure the temple officials do, so you might want to consult them.”
“Mhm. Well, I'll be seeing you then, Chief Ironhide.”
“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Lionheart! I'll be looking forward to our next encounter!”
Leaving the offices, Carl was once more greeted with stunned and alarmed looks. His unexpectedly – and unintentionally – fiendish appearance, combined with his battle wounds, bestowed him with a dreadful aura nobody wanted to mess with, and his hurried steps made everyone feel uneasy, hastily getting out of his way ahead of time.
“Heh, no helping that. I really need to clean up.”
Standing at the base of the Temple of Immortals, Carl could now fully admire its grandeur. The divine edifice seemed to thwart anyone who dared look up at it. The only thing in real life that could compare to it in sheer scale would be a zeppelin hangar. But that wasn't the temple's most impressive feature – because the heavenly majesty it emanated was immutable, demanding one to be on their absolutely best behavior when visiting.
Carl studied his apparel and his hands once more, sighing deeply. It was fortunate he didn't have a mirror.
“Well, Uncle Time said it won't be a problem … and all these guys don't seem to bother.”
A river of players was constantly running in two opposing currents, often haggard and bloodied, though nowhere near as badly as him.
“A Heroic Spirit, huh? Show me what you have for me!”