Amelia was less lethargic than she had been the past few days.
Despite the errors building up in her system, the soul absorption process had finally started to go through. She did not feel entirely at 100%, but maybe 85%, which hopefully would be good enough for today.
The hostel’s party ventured through the town, armor on and supply packs on their backs filled with gear and goods. Along with Amelia, there was Mino, bounding down the sidewalk with a spring in her step; Aeo, sluggishly pacing along behind her; Hummer, who stared straight ahead with some strange trepidation; and Phelia, who looked like she was going to fall asleep standing up, but nonetheless carried herself well. Fortunately, Otto the olm was not among them.
Five people, and four who would likely stand in Amelia’s path for revenge if she stuck with them that far. But for now, it was fine. Mino was a certified guide, after all, so she would be useful up to Floor 3. As a sun elf, she likely possessed some magical prowess, as well. Though Amelia doubted it would come in handy in combat.
Mino noticed Amelia looking at her and giggled. “Are you excited?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“If anything scary attacks us, are you gonna protect us?”
Amelia did not let her expression change, but inside she grimaced at the question. No matter how she answered, it would either be a lie, or reveal her real plans far too soon. Neither of those provided much joy for Amelia. So her eventual answer, after some hesitation, was, “Depends on how scary.”
“Nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure,” she said.
“What all’s down there?”
“Oh, you’ll see yourself soon enough. Anyway, as long as we don’t run into any mels, we’ll be just fine.”
A statement like that essentially guaranteed they were going to run into melanoids.
They continued towards the dungeon entrance, walking in the chirping ambience of Beechhurst in early morning. All the snow had already melted, as if winter was some fleeting month-long event, not a full, harsh season. When Ed and Amelia lived in Rockmund, the winters brought so much snow that the farm became cut off from the village entirely. Here in Fleettwixt, though, the cold had diminished, and even the trees and birds seemed to understand that it was almost their time once again.
No people, though. Whether they passed by overgrowth-covered offices or diners with a lonely single chef at the open bar, Beechhurst had practically perished at this hour.
The stores and homes did not grow any livelier, even as they grew closer to the center of the neighborhood. The few people walking around seemed rushed to get to Beechhurst Station, to leave this part of town as quickly as possible and get to the areas that were worth being in.
On the other side of the street was a one-story building with a sign that read, “Manadhmeth Touring Group,” but several of the letters had fallen off, only their peeled outlines still remaining on the wall.
Mino shook her head. “People don’t get it,” she said. “Beechhurst is amazing, but all the businesses moved away or closed. If they had just stuck around, things might still be pretty good.”
“What happened?” Amelia asked.
“Oh no, Amelia, what have you done?” Aeo mumbled.
But it was too late. A spark lit up in Mino and refused to defuse.
“The Great Hero happened!” she shouted. “Beechhurst did so well with its dungeon entrance right in the middle of the district. We supplied all the food to the people living down there, and anyone who didn’t want to deal with the hassle at the more popular entrances would go here instead. You know, Highden, Castle District, Portside, all of those. Then the dungeon core exploded and the adventurers dried up. The lower floors are still too dangerous, and the upper floors lost all their treasure.”
“No more adventurers, no more money,” Amelia said.
“Exactly. The dungeon entrance used to have all these vendors hawking trinkets, scalpers selling off dungeon passes, and tour guides everywhere. But it’s less than half of what it used to be. And winter’s the off-season, which means most places around here just shut down for a few months. There aren’t enough tourists or adventurers to fill the gap.”
It all made sense why Mino’s hostel was so vacant. Nobody went to this side of the dungeon anymore because none of it was very interesting. That meant the only guests tended to be boarders, or, in Amelia’s case, criminals looking to lie low.
“Well, there’s three of us here,” Phelia said, referring to herself, Hummer, and Amelia. “That’s gotta count for something!”
“If you help me make Beechhurst cool and popular again, that’s what’ll count,” Mino said.
“I’m not sure Beechhurst was ever ‘cool,’” Aeo said. But Mino paid her no mind.
“I’m glad you decided to take my tour, everyone,” Mino said. “We’re gonna have such a fun time today. We’ll go to completely different places than last time, so even Aeo might have some fun this time.”
“I’m just here to help. And maybe flirt with some Manadheads.”
“Manadheads?” Amelia asked once again.
“People born in the dungeon who live their whole lives there,” Aeo said. “They’re kinda cute, but obviously it’s hard to meet them on the surface.”
People did that? What kind of dungeon was this?
Amelia would soon find out, as the Beechhurst entrance to the Manadhmeth Dungeon was just up ahead. It was a grand, two-story-tall rock structure with a large opening carved out in it. Clean and polished compared to the rust and overgrowth of the area around it. Large enough to fit a small caravan through. As if crafted specially by the dungeon core itself to invite people in. Actually, that was probably the truth of it; the other dungeon entrances Amelia had seen looked almost exactly the same, all of it very out of place for the rest of Fleettwixt’s architecture.
Several guards staffed the entrance, creating a barrier in front of it that made sure no unauthorized access could be had. Even at the least popular, most neglected part of the city, they still kept their security measures high.
Mino handed over her credentials, her Tour Guide pass and ID card and a small bribe of one gold coin. The guards let the group through without another word, They walked down a flight of stone stairs until they reached a large platform, big enough to fit thirty people comfortably.
“What was that?” Hummer asked.
“Just the security check,” Mino said.
“I mean the bribe.”
Amelia had wondered that too, but not enough to broach the topic out loud. Especially because Mino squirmed in reaction, just like she predicted.
“You have to deal with them somehow,” she said. “They were going to question me on my certification. I didn’t want us to wait three hours to start.”
“Your certification...” Hummer looked puzzled for a second, then said, “Oh, it’s an elf thing.”
Mino nodded her head. “I got my certification twenty years ago. Sometimes they think that means I’ve already forgotten everything. That’s not how it works, but it doesn’t mean people don’t get suspicious anyway.” She seemed exhausted just saying all this. Hummer finally seemed satisfied by the response and declined to press it further.
The platform they all stood on began to descend through the sloping entrance. It went diagonally, both down the cavern and forward through it.
“This part takes forever,” Phelia said, “but I’m still so excited! Just a few more minutes, and we’ll finally be down in the dungeon!”
“Can’t wait,” Hummer said. And then, strangely, she glanced at Amelia. Almost wistfully, with an expression that seemed to suggest this trip was more sad than anything else.
Amelia remembered about Hummer, that she was headed back home soon, and this would be her final dungeon dive before then. So it made sense why she might be feeling bittersweet about it. But why did she keep looking at Amelia?
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It honestly annoyed her.
Aeo and Phelia, at least, looked a bit more awake than before. They still had not eaten breakfast, but the anticipation of adventure seemed to be enough for them. Aeo patted the rifle on her back as if it were a trusty pet.
Finally, this slow-moving platform reached the bottom of the first floor, and Amelia got her first look at the Manadhmeth Dungeon.
Mana lamps EVERYWHERE. The otherwise dim cavern was lit up with lights on walls, lights on posts, and lights through every window of every building. Neon signs on businesses and shops gave off more of a nightlife feel than even the Red Light District on the surface—except it was still very early morning.
The expanse of buildings stretched on as far as Amelia’s eye could see, except in those places where cavernous protrusions blocked the way. It was not one large, open space, but rather a winding canyon of land. Either way, it was absolutely massive, and almost completely developed.
“How big is this place?” Amelia asked.
“The radius is about the same as Fleettwixt itself,” Mino said. “The city walls on the surface almost perfectly line up with the Floor 1 boundary. Pretty neat, huh? But when you count just the usable space, it’s about two-thirds the size of the city.”
“That’s absurd.”
“The dungeon core made it this way,” Aeo said. “Take it up with that thing if you have any complaints. Except, it’s dead.”
The group walked down a sidewalk with bars and restaurants, almost as if they were back on the surface again except for the lack of a sun. Phelia’s stomach rumbled loudly, and they finally decided to stop off at a diner called Steady Hand.
Amelia did not enter, and instead leaned against the front wall, arms crossed, looking at the city around her. The dark, yet bright atmosphere was unlike anything she had ever experienced before, and it made her senses feel bizarrely heightened, somehow clearer than ever.
Inside the open-windowed restaurant, she saw the four enjoying themselves, munching on breakfast, and felt content knowing they had each other. Amelia did not belong in this group, and certainly never would, but at least they were happy already.
This restaurant, Steady Hand, was one of many in Floor 1 that served haven roots, one of the Manadhmeth Dungeon’s most famous delicacies. It was a pink, spiny vegetable that was said to be bitter and flavorless on its own, but with the right preparations and partner ingredients, it became a nutritious meal with a very unique texture. That was what was said, at least. Amelia had no way to confirm for herself, but she knew one important thing: Farmers no longer grew haven roots in the Manadhmeth Dungeon, not in any important capacity. Its most famous local dish was in fact grown almost entirely in the northern rural countryside of Newpool, Berryward, Cheston, and those other regions that the North Sunwell Company pushed to and beyond breaking points.
Her dungeon mates did not know that what they ate was the product of forced labor and sustained poverty, and she decided she would not tell them of that. In fact, almost everything in this dungeon was probably had significant contributions from the terror inflicted upon Sunwell’s people. From the soul gems in the golems patrolling the streets, to the mana lamps powered by energy from plants grown afar, to the very buildings themselves, likely created with grueling, thankless labor from migrant workers. There was a lot to appreciate about the many people that gave their lives or livelihoods to accomplish what went on here, but they never needed to sacrifice such things. Their loss was due only to the desire for quick and easy profits.
Floor 1 hardly felt like a dungeon at all, with all the buildings and lively atmosphere, but it was still deep underground. Nothing about this place felt natural, and yet it was still just as much a part of Fleettwixt as Beechhurst or Portside.
When the others finished their meal and stepped back outside, they looked fully nourished and happy, except for Hummer’s continued wistfulness.
“Hey, Amelia,” Mino said. “What’ve you been up to?”
“Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“What’s this place really like?”
“Ah, I can tell you all about that,” she said. “I’m a tour guide, after all. First, though, let’s hop on a mover so we can get close to the central entrance. The northern neighborhood is okay, but it won’t be as nice when we get to Floor 2.”
“Alright.”
“Ah, yeah, we gotta get close to the lake,” Phelia said.
They walked to a small platform, just a couple stairs lifted, next to a rail track. Seconds later, a mine cart pulled up to them and stopped.
“Automatic people movers,” Mino told Amelia, answering her question before she even asked. “They had all this mining equipment left over, so they decided to turn it into transportation. Kind of genius, if I do say so myself.”
“Sure.”
They entered the vehicle and sat down on cramped little chairs that barely fit all five of them. Then, on cue, it went ahead on the track. It was rickety and slow, but better than walking the whole way.
They went through a tunnel, and suddenly they were in almost complete darkness. Just the lights on the mover that illuminated just outlines of each other.
“A long time ago, Floor 1 was still really dangerous,” Mino explained, continuing her answer from earlier. “Mels everywhere, lots of animals, and the underworld operated everywhere. They made lots of tunnels and secret entrances that they used to smuggle weapons and drugs and all sorts of stuff under the noses of the police. They buried a lot of bodies down here, too.”
“They still do that,” Amelia said.
“...Well, things have gotten a lot better,” she said with a particularly unconvinced voice. “Now, thousands of people live down here, and it’s generally really safe. There used to be lots of seedy places around, but it’s mostly been wiped out since the Dungeon Core was destroyed.”
“What she’s trying to say is,” Aeo told Amelia, “Floor 1 turned into a big, boring shopping center.”
“That I understand,” she said.
When they emerged from the other side of the tunnel, Amelia saw what Aeo meant in its entirety: Floor 1 was massive, and it was rife with consumer-friendly gloss.
The central area of Floor 1 was covered in even more luxurious, grand buildings than in the northern area they entered into. Many buildings stretched up all the way to the ceiling, just giant city block-sized spires. Amelia suspected that some of them were even directly connected to some of Highden’s largest buildings.
The lighting was even better here, almost exactly as bright as Fleettwixt’s surface at nighttime. All the streets were planned out in a meticulous pattern of rows, some long and vertical, some short and horizontal, all circling around a central hub where one gargantuan casino called Lucky Time sat proudly. Above its large neon sign was an even larger billboard with the North Sunwell Company logo, and a painting of two smiling women, one orcish and one faun, holding hands with a young mixed child walking alongside them. It had a slogan that read, “Enjoy your life with us. Ensuring a just and equitable world.”
“That’s new,” Aeo said. “And ugly. What’s that stupid sign doing there?”
“Government propaganda,” Amelia said. “I’ll tear it down later.”
“You better. It’s ruining the aesthetic.”
She had seen her fair share of propaganda on the surface. Posters advertising golems for domestic use. Radio announcements about good citizenship. Rallies on the weekend to show support for the company. It was all in the authoritarian textbook of keeping control. But none of it was as egregious, as blatant as the gigantic billboard here.
“Well, propaganda or not, at least they aren’t restricting access as much anymore,” Mino said. “It used to be so hard to get tours, even if you were certified. But now they encourage it!”
“For profit,” Amelia said.
“Mmm,” Hummer said out of nowhere. When Amelia looked her way, she saw the woman looking forward with a mile-off stare into space.
Mino pressed a button on the mover, and it came to a slow, screeching stop at the next platform. The doors did not open until Mino slid two brass coins into a slot.
“Well, here we are,” she said to them. “The Floor 2 entrance is just a block away.”
“Maybe when we come back up, we can stop here for some shopping,” Phelia suggested. “I’m looking for a new dress.”
“I thought you were saving up,” Aeo said. “To leave Fleettwixt and all?”
“A girl can’t get a dress?”
“Do they even sell kobold clothes here?”
Phelia murmured, “Goblin clothes work fine if you cut holes for the wings and tail...”
The Floor 2 entrance was not quite as grand as the one on the surface. It was much smaller, and consisted only of a couple flights of stairs, by the looks of it. Instead of police guards staffing the place, it was two golem, standing firmly and statically.
Mino flashed her identification and they let the whole party go through. It seemed fairly easy to trick their directives by simply walking through at the same time as someone with a pass. Too rudimentary for the level of security they seemed to be trying to project. But, then again, this place was rife with criminal activity that went completely unhindered, so maybe it was intentional.
“Okay, do we have everything?” Mino asked. “Armor on, weapons equipped, supplies in check?”
“Yep,” Aeo and Phelia said simultaneously. Aeo with her rifle, Phelia with her axe.
“Yes,” Amelia said, tapping the six throwing knives attached to her belt.
Hummer said nothing and continued to stare off, but she looked well-prepared, so Mino ignored her. She had a short sword and a bow and arrow, which piqued Amelia’s curiosity by just how standard it was.
Mino herself had no weapons. As a tour guide, she surely had the means to defend herself. Magic, perhaps, Amelia thought.
The group walked down the flights of stairs. Aeo grumbled about how bad the walk back up would be, and Mino went on about Floor 2’s sights and sounds. It was only a little smaller than Floor 1, and with more open space to accommodate its many plants and animals. But most of the floor was taken up by the large, shallow Manadhmeth Lake in the center. She talked about its history and the treasures that used to be found down here, but Amelia found herself instantly distracted from the moment the group came into Floor 2’s first outpost.
Right in this small station with a cantina and supply shops, there shambling people, standing on street corners and talking to each other in hushed whispers.
There was no doubt about it: These were Fourland drug dealers, here already in plain sight.
Amelia had a choice to make.