Murai was amazed by how his hoodie felt and helped. It was something he scarcely experimented with in recent days. If it wasn't for Bagus and Lisa who wanted to see what it was about, he might not even know what its physically locked abilities looked like.
It even protected his body against some of Bagus's attacks. Murai promised himself and Amelius he would work with this hoodie, yet without a set of acknowledgments, he wouldn't get around to its powers unless he was at a similar craftsmanship level as Amelius himself.
There was a difference between crafting for others and forging new treasures and everything for oneself. One was shared; common and looked under some rules. The other was broad, coming from the greater heavens and self-contained potential.
Murai felt this hoodie was incredible, which made his Heavenly Shaping and the rest of his arsenal take precedence in this fight because his body was fine.
Clutter, rubble, and Ends were all over the street. Some buildings were long destroyed, walls cut or leaked in blood. Mainly done by Bagus, he didn't care for sizes or being pretty or gentle. When those with Laws fought, surroundings suffered and Ends wouldn't be pretty. His bloody beak and feathers described his story and his almost intact body gave confidence that there was no incredible opponent.
From above, Lisa could see and sigh over this madness. How long had it been since she fought like that? When did she care, or where could she do that again? The bliss in death was close, souls snatched by the Afterlife, and her mind stirred.
She hovered above in silence until a glint of her eyes skipped a beat when she felt disturbed. Something shook her head, so she turned away, squinting her eyes to a far distant edge of this hole.
“What was it? Did I feel... disturbed? Me?!” She mumbled in disbelief. “Is it them? I mean... now? When... Was that for my sake or am I sensitive?” She looked at the south of the city, from the direction they came from. A large cliff was very far away and looked rough because of the heat and elevation, looking like an immense wall from her position.
And there, on top of that cliff, a pair of figures stood, bearing no trouble but still observing her and that battle from afar.
One was male, the other female; both shrouded in a dark cloak and acting as if they belonged to this desert even if they weren't and shouldn't be so close. It wasn't Ozeki or Razmund. This pair was someone else, yet still curious and forceful, for they came here for a business that had been years in the making. They were standing, their cloaks flickering in wind and heat, shrouding their faces and bodies.
“Hey, this is curious. She is watching. You said we are safe,” the man said, laughing and revealing a bit of his sharp chin. An amused smile showed some contempt, arrogance, or a surprise that would do nothing bad or good.
Beside him was a much smaller figure who remained silent. So he stopped being silly and asked her something again. “What to think? We stand still like statues. Where to begin? Have you done something bad, or we did?”
Beside him, a figure turned, revealing a sporadically clothed woman. Arms folded, back straight, and eyes glowing in pure whiteness, she was like a watchful reaper. Shrouded by a cloak because it was mandatory in such an odd business, she would prefer to be without it. It would have been so much better in this heat and momentum if it weren't for her job and sudden changes.
“Done? Nothing. Guides of Fate are far and large. What is said is said like Laws. Sometimes, it is set in stone like threads carved into timeless grace. It had been said there would be an unprecedented disturbance. It happened. Whose picture was it? Whose fault? Try to remember those Hellscape Pictures. It is there. Years left untold, yet one fact called.” She recounted some reports or ideas from the past, clutching many papers in her palms. She took one from the pile, looking at a big hole surrounded by the Scorching Light.
“I know how lively you like this,” the man said, “yet what to take it for when we see nothing fine? Should we act against the Fate like the old master said?”
“And disturb it further?”
“Oy, we reached the fact that Velga died, but that is like telling that Fate can't be changed. What's the point in that anyway? Things are always changing all the time. Riders, or Guides, what can come shall come or get lost. How long ago was it?” the man cursed and showed her a worried face.
“Velga? That one was a trifling matter. Unworthy of callings, yet... that worthless point provided the Fateful Picture.” She let go of the picture describing Ip'ur Mountain, which then drifted up and burned to dust. Then, another Picture came forth to her eyes, revealing a detached head, flying above a half-death duck. It was a still image, yet bathed and colored in blood.
Because of the sun, the blood of the faces faded and scorched in slowly approaching flames.
“Just like that, her Crystalite perished weeks days ago.”
“Yet with no message left behind. Like puff,” the man gestured with his fists above his head “Gone. Death and nowhere to be seen. That wasn't in the Pictures by the way.”
“That means she was unimportant. Her remnant doesn't matter. That's what goes when one reads the Fate. It is a disturbing, rough, and ambiguous touch that not everyone appreciates.” the woman said amusingly, speaking in soft tones that made her voice enticing. Then she chuckled as if feeling the irony of her words and those Pictures.
“What do you suggest, milady Curta'rias?” the man said, bemused and looking down from the edge of this cliff.
“Don't do a thing. We are being watched. Observed. As foreign visitors that Mindarch sees, or Levandis doubts, this place doesn't have its present hospitality to a different Hell, so we might be lucky for what we have. For a long time, this has been a long-term war. We better not disturb the current sensitivity between all the Lords or Ladies, or what goes right there, bellow us.” She scattered the ashes down, pointing with her long, pale, yet red-nailed finger.
“Yet I itch. I want to see things and know them. Experience the Fate is my calling!” the man said impatiently. “That Ghost and Old Freak. I want to see and feel them so badly that I wouldn't mind going against the rules,” he cried, crouching and almost falling from the cliff if it weren't for hands that caught his cloak.
“Stop pretending we have the capacity or time to take this on when we can't even operate. Orders! Our Lord takes precedence. The rest is secondary. Words and Pictures. Remember them.”
The man swayed below the cliff, caught by the soft hand of his witty little leader. Perhaps she was too witty and caring.
“I am doing nothing. See? I just wanted to feel the air. Is it the air? It is hot, eh? Mayhap we go down. There is gonna be a sauna there when we add water and batch, you see.”
Curta'rias sighed, feeling this human in her grasp like a sack of many chips and troubles. “Have she seen you? Perhaps it isn't good to be obvious or too curious. There is so much in Fate left that we don't know. And that unknown is troubled. Master said so when history repeats itself.”
“Yet we don't even know what that means. What is the point in seeing Fate without acting or seeing its effect?” the man scowled when she tossed him back to the ground behind her.
He hoped to fall regardless.
“It is called common sense. Try it sometime, Olek.”
“You sound funny when you say my name in this cute tone and accent of yours. I call it cute!” Olek argued on his ass, pointing at her half-exposed face. His got revealed, pointing to a young gentleman with dark brown hair and a scar across his nose.
“Says a man serving a Hell of all things? Whom does he serve? For what treason does it make sense?”
“Says a...” A hand clutched his mouth next, tossing him aside to a distant boulder where he rested like a sack of potatoes. There were a few figures that took shelter before this pair of visitors.
“Call me Curta next time”
“I said nothing! Nothing!” Olek argued to her for his own good, pointing at a soft, pale, and white-haired devilish lady, whose cloak loosened. It nearly fell, but a pin around her shoulders secured it, revealing her face and part of her shoulders. She was young, not even twenty.
Smooth and pretty, her pale skin and hair seemed weirdly out of shape from her appearance and ancient-sounding phrasing. Red accents on her nails, eyes, and lips made her different. She looked far too human, yet almost perfect, yet frail. One would wonder if she was close to a Succubus, or if she was of some tribal demonic race or something between humans and others.
She turned, ignoring Olek, and crouched down. The wind blew, so she adjusted her cloak and hid her white hair.
“I feel... disturbed.”
“You always do. What is down there again?” Olek told back at her side.
“Not our destination.”
“I figured. We confirmed the Picture, right? A new Anatidae bearing a weird journey ahead is enough or not everything. Hellscape and the world set upside down were there as well. Anything else? Who got the rest of the Pictures?”
Curta frowned, pressing her lips too tightly and biting her lower lip.
“Don't know what to tell to that? Your father would be curious and by now, beating me up.” Olek said without seeing her face or feeling any shame. “You want to go down yourself, so stop...”
A kick sent him flying away, going back to that boulder.
Curta felt her itching arms, cutting some papers onto her face to hide her fluster. “You... have no idea what is there or coming.”
Behind her, cracked in the boulder, Olek rested.
“S-sir?” Aside, an old devil spoke. He was the devil who was curious about Murai in the Hellhole Tavern. Now, he wasn't overbearing in the slightest, looking like a steward instead, old and too polite to this pair.
“Am fine,” Olek said, getting from the boulder that cracked apart when he brushed the dust away. “But again, what's the point? We have Pictures. Why can't we act?”
“What is the purpose to guests or doubts, young master?” the devil asked an old question that felt the passage of many eras. “Pictures speak thousands of words. The Fate of infinitum is countless. Actions are above, or further.”
“Sounds awfully complex and not what I want to see,” Olek scoffed and figured there was no point in arguing anymore. Curta secured her papers behind her cloak and walked away from that cliff.
It wasn't fine. Murai was far too young, they were too quick, or far too far from the Pictures that someone forged from Fate.
***
Down in the street, Lisa overcame her disturbance, swearing she was seeing a pair of shadows in that distant cliff. They were close and not much different from some hidden or obnoxiously close bastards.
Humming, she forgot them when the battle was over and her doubts found no answers. Murai was the same; he lost his touch, so Itrosh made her move when he lost his wits and got overwhelmed when his Fatality turned against him, and that cutter almost cut his head off. Pinned to the ground instead, the last mercenary was close to finishing his job in a brutal and shocked manner. He was out of his wits a long time ago, fearful after fighting a battle of his lifetime. He almost won too, coming and seizing his prize.
But when Itrosh moved aside from him, swinging a dagger in one smooth motion that cut his skin, he bled out before he knew or finished his thoughts and desires. He felt and met his End.
Itrosh offered Murai a hand, smiling at him as if she praised him. He looked as if he enjoyed this beating more than some meals.
“You look happy, or is it just me?” Itrosh said to him when she pulled the cutter away and watched its improper form. Chipped and worn down, this sword was close to being in pieces. Tossing it away was easy; Itrosh had hundreds of weapons anyway.
Murai got to his feet on his own, feeling pride and ignorant of his wounds or little bleeding. Some punches or kicks were whatever. His head was fine because of his beak that absorbed most blunt damages. But attacks against his torso did hurt, and his wings or legs or neck weren't as sturdy because of the hoodie that didn't protect everything. Some force moved thought anyway, going into his flesh and creaking his bones. There were some limits to this hoodie's prolonger natural and locked defenses.
“All done?” Bagus voiced around the corner, bloodied, with almost no wounds, and smiling amusingly. “How are we gonna divide this loot?”
“Take it all if you like, or...” Itrosh frowned when strides of thuds and steps echoed around the corner.
Guards and some fools riding some beasts resembling Basilisks made their moves to their locations.
Officers. The military had arrived after such a long time that Itrosh and Bagus laughed. There was nothing worth stopping anymore.
“What is this mess?” an officer asked on top of an impressive beast.
“May I add that they attacked first?” Itrosh asked innocently, thinking it was true. However, Bagus charged at them first.
“Most of the Driek's Mercenaries are dead, so who is to take responsibility? We are in the middle of sensitive times, so coming to Ip'ur City and doing such chaos is terrible.” the officer said, wearing neat armor with tight-fitting scaled plates. He spoke firmly and like a soldier who went through wars, yet even someone like him appeared apprehensive against this bloodbath, and Grifhart, or proximity of an Anatidae gave him more apprehension than everything else combined.
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A brightness overhead dripped down like strands of endearing water and a greater flow of mana. Lisa appeared right above his mount, bearing no gifts but a smile and something else.
The officer nearly panicked when he saw her.
“I suspect you get the idea.” She held up a Token that she held once again. Murai didn't know when, or how good of a robber she was.
“My Lady, bless me,” the officer preyed and got his helmet off. He was old, looking similar to Illak but with normal hair and less bulk. His skin was more parched and scarred, giving his sharp eyes a great deal of clarity, while his wide nose and age gave a knock of authority.
“She Blesses whoever her taste defies or her fickle mind touch or desire,” Lisa argued. “Now, what is it, officer? I suppose rules don't follow anyone, so these Mercenaries fought. Hunters attacked. I attest to that as a Hunted. Have such a wild bounty, you see. It is so difficult to be a proper Villain.” Lisa taunted him with an innocent face that spoke very different words.
“The killer attest to being a killer?” a different officer scoffed at her. “We don't take your kin lightly in this place and time.”
“Get used to it, please, or get lost or crawl.”
Behind those officers, there was a small regiment consisting of dozens of mounted soldiers. They were a permanent side of the military, or they were sent here after the world turned upside down because the owner or Levandis were worried.
Bagus and Itrosh made the killings, yet they had no remorse. Why would they?
“What are you here for, Hunted?” The first officer asked.
“Mining.” an aged voice expressed aside, revealing Foolisch who walked from his shop.
“Sir Foolisch?” the officer made a customary bow. “What mining?”
“They are here for mining and got attacked after leaving my shop. I attest to that. Whether that is fine or not is out of the question. It isn't fine, as it isn't fine, so it isn't fine. What wouldn't at this terrible time?”
The officer seemed conflicted, but upon seeing stern and famous Foolisch messing around with this problem, he let the soldiers clean this mess. Less problems for him, so that was good.
Out of respect for battles and clashes, the officer let Itrosh collect the essences of the fallen mercenaries.
“Let's hope no company wants to test or hunt you down in your silly mining attempts, Hunted! You should think twice about it, thieves!” Another officer said to Lisa and her group, filled with anger.
Foolisch coughed, forcing the officer to frown and turn his Basilisk away.
“So wild and good. I almost feel pity,” said Foolisch to Lisa when the soldiers left. “You are welcome by the way.”
“Never asked for such weak help,” Lisa said to him coldly, tossing the Token back to Murai, who caught it with more evident annoyance than ever.
“I was right though. They wouldn't leave you out otherwise. Owner is close, but... things might be very difficult to grasp even for him,” Foolisch hummed, touching his chin and looking up to the sun through rare barriers in this portion of the city.
“I would force them to leave!” Bagus stomped the ground with his tail and laughed like thunder.
“Solving such troubles with force? How fitting for the ones seeing the End.”
“We are Dreamers. Seeking End is part of the process.” Itrosh argued, back at catching some knives and looking at Foolisch as if he would fight.
Foolisch laughed at her silly knives and gave them a weird look. “Took after David that much? Well, consider this to be everything I can give. Have fun seeing the End or Afterlife all that you want.”
He disappeared back to his shop, leaving the group alone. Then, he poked his head around the corner. “And be safe with my stuff. Give it back when you are over, alright?”
Then, he was back, hoping that his treasured papers would come sooner rather than never.
“That went well,” Murai quacked in pain and stress.
“So-so,” Lisa added and deduced this situation happened much quicker than expected. They were alone once more, so could more troubles come again?
Ip'ur Mountain or the Ip'ur City mattered. Both depicted the same thing; 1 maw to swallow them whole. A destination without the rightful journey.
It wasn't far from some direction, as they got their goal put into the journey and assurance. Lisa would be surprised if everything about this situation was one giant joke. If it was, Lorry was a terrible liar and someone who better remain lost forever.
Many entrances went to numerous portions of the underground. There were unofficial routes, or official entrances that adhered to the largest mining shafts dug out over many years, close to some preexisting crevices or caves that were ancient, or more recent.
Some entrances were obvious, with most of them being part of this city and culture. A whole mining industry worked around them like entrances to a brand-new city. Each entrance was restricted, guarded, and tough to enter or leave without others knowing. Arousing suspicions were met with pain.
Lisa explained that to Murai already, or how the cause of their rough reality was in the shade of a distant and barren street corner.
The current owner of the Ip'ur Mountain was a known haggler and no crazy Overlord. He was still someone with much higher personal power than David or Foolisch combined and wasn't as unpredictable.
He was still a Named Devil with a known nickname alone. Rataratan was his reputable name. A tongue twister that—according to no rumors—was a name from distant islands of Noah.
According to the known situation and politics, he acquired this whole place a decade ago by force and Levandis's acceptance. A duel against Xenalis of the Extremis Legion shook the politics in a fight to the death amongst the Extremes.
Both were members of the First Legion and vivid parties of her great military strength who were close to Levandis in every major war or interest. Since she wasn't some righteous God, arrogance, and Chaos went head to head alongside her forces.
Hence, even some killing or dramas among her forces weren't uncommon, even if they weren't recommended. Duels for some standing or business were one way to grasp some chances. They should go without killing, for she desired it.
Sometimes, she was even encouraged to swallow pride because of affection. Through public history and legends, countless stories described those close to Gods as full of blessings and greater times. A simple wink from Levandis could turn her army into a terrific force that could obliterate themselves or others.
Even if exaggerated, the universe and this world didn't refute such claims, for where there was power and billions of lives, things happened, and Gods wanted to be Rulers. Many such stories came to Lisa's voice, they each hold quite some facts and reputation. David also confirmed it, giving her what she wanted as reminders or relations to the gap she missed. When they traveled or were still back in Helltrim City, she understood everything.
The current situation was the following: Mining wasn't as restricted as fighting or making trouble with companies. All potential miners were under strict regulations. Profits were important, led by the interest coming from deep pockets.
It was in Hell's interest to push miners to work, so some regulations came forth as meritorious services. Most of them were well paid, even if the resources weren't up to their touch and demands.
But throughout these companies that handled their Ultra Gems, some always ended up lost, scattered around the black market, or some people who paid off good enough people. Official or unofficial businesses didn't matter to Lisa. Some Gems had shops for limited buyers. Most uses for the Ultra Gems came through its physical significance. Miners used them as light in old mines, or batteries for some constructs or equipment pieces. Thinking of them as secret power boosts weren't possible for pretty much anyone in this Gate.
For most demons, they were useless. For craftsmen, things were a little different. The Surface was bigger and more diverse, so Ultra Gems had much more uses there. Thanks to Levandis and her tight touches and high demands, she paid those responsible for mining incredibly well because actual profit was staggering. Thus, very few miners would undermine such trust. They were required to leave everything mined at every entrance. In return, they would get steep rewards.
Because of such rules, which made sense for those close to Levandis, there were many working and greedy opportunities in most establishments. Everyone was looking for benefits and potential earnings.
Ultra Gems themselves had weight and sizes to them like currency. A thumb-sized Ultra Gem was common when a chunk of Ultra Materium cracked under the pressure. Depending on the cracked results, Ultra Gems were born. Ten thumb-sided Gems were good, even if one would lose them upon leaving the mines back in the city. Smuggling or hiding them was unlikely, for there was chaos, and touching such brightness wasn't very clever or easy to hide.
The number of mined Gems would transfer to interest after selling, leaving the miner with a portion of some results. If their Ultra Gems ended up more precious, cuts would get even better. There were fewer lies at the peak of this business because Levandis wanted miners to work harder and harder.
Cuts were important for miners like their lives; so were the quantity and quality of everything untold or hiding in the ground. What one found or managed to mine were different things. What one would be able to take back didn't matter. One could even steal from miners because it wasn't against the rules.
Thus, very few weaklings would come down and act like idiots.
The current owner was quite keen on these values and companies, taking it for a bliss that his Lady loved dearly. Cuts didn't matter to Rataratan. As long as Ultra Gems came back to the entrances, the matter of how or where didn't matter.
It was good for miners, though the owner was keen on no high or too low reward. He acted within the median instead, giving what one would take for no slap or blessing.
With nearly guaranteed profits anyway, many looked for more like hungry dogs that had already eaten but believed some more wouldn't hurt.
Companies were secondary, if not very important pieces to this problem. They provided benefits to miners unless they were private or lone wolves. Companies hoped to give the owner more face that mattered. Benefits went to benefactors under him, and benefactors moved the rest, endlessly filling this greedy machine that wasn't insufferable.
With such rules to follow, everyone and everything was strict and hard to use for one direct benefit. The owner held a personal guard over this place, acting like a dog so nothing would go too wrong.
Under every cranny of this hole, nothing shall escape. Lisa wondered if her plan to go down against such a familiar lunacy was worth her push, but she had already chosen it because it wasn't a choice.
She might regret it, as this news would undoubtedly reach the owner, unless he long knew about it, of course. But even then, Levandis might intervene because this wasn't simple like a Hunt. Mindarch might also become a questionable variable.
Resting in some shade, Murai, Itrosh, and Bagus stood around Lisa, who handled a big old book and turned some pages. It was a recording of an old master. A person who went deeper than anyone as one who mastered the mining and Ip'ur Mountain. It was about a mining legend and Foolisch's master, Lookish. Allegedly, he was a devil who breached the contract with Levandis herself and went to the Surface to perform all kinds of crazy shit, before going back and continuing going wild.
Levandis let him back in and even liked him even more. For unknown reasons, he began Scorching Light's exploration, which resulted in a massive boom in business, mining, and resources.
Lookish wasn't a devil of good or evil factions. He held a certain conviction, an ideal from the Old World that was akin to many other convictions that wondered many beings even at the present age.
Lookish was nobody and nothing, which was a strange factor, as his act benefited Levandis like a splendid charm when he suddenly departed and never appeared again, leaving Foolisch behind as his sole disciple.
In the end, he left no clear legacy besides him. Either Lookish fell to obscurity or met his End, but the records said he lived more than a millennium ago, with rumors about his death being around three hundred years ago.
Chaos was hard to tame and disappear. Unless one would get its effects, literary infest its bearing and everything about it, controlling that which came with consequences was never adequate.
Great minds often made it better, or so it was mentioned in the passing comments from this book. With wide back, eyes looking, obscurities of jealousy, or torments of great spirit, many things were far from ideal.
Years ago, amassing knowledge and acting crazy followed Lookish like a blessing. It made Overlords, the rest of the Gates, and even some Gods and their factions mad.
After all, his comeback moved the established politics when Levandis let him do anything he wanted. Besides the Gods in the Sky or Surface, Hell was always harsher and impossible to soothe. If someone between Order and Chaos emerged, then it would mean either a war of massive scale or an appeal that was unthinkable for anyone but great Rulers.
Or, in this case, nothing much happened.
Lisa read some passing comments under his comeback, which left awe and shocks, yet Levandis either swiped it clean or strictly hid it away. Not in this book, however.
Considering how Lookish's endeavor in the Surface happened outside of Hell and his past, he became an Extreme who some Overlords feared after his return.
Now, it was a past that not many understood, as it was a history that was well outside of political intrigue. For a while before his departure, Lookish lived in seclusion in this desert until he disappeared without Foolisch.
Many scripts talked of the craziness of that Devilish Demon, which was his nickname. As for why he was important in Lisa's eyes, this book in particular was the work of Lookish. It was the most comprehensive guide towards this Province and Ip'ur Mountain.
Lisa didn't know every history herself; she couldn't possibly know everything from her past life because her various interests and desires didn't link to some nonsense. It came biting her back, but it wasn't regretful. There were many weird figures around many eras and times, illustrating wars, Blessed, or various nations or powers that might run like lighting and disappear in a puff of smoke. With Gods near, watchful, and deep, it was unavoidable.
Since Lookish, not many figures like him appeared in this desert, seizing their chances, turning against the norm, and forcing something that shouldn't be forced.
Murai enjoyed this flank of a forgotten heated history. It described facts and fascinations of how this world took some figures for a breeze. People lived and died, the planet spun, yet the earth would remain in one piece. Those were simple matters.
The death of a God was different. Extremes dying was nothing for the scale of this planet.
This history was old, yet what was older or younger when Gods lived for numerous eras? Even some demons and races lived for hundreds of years, with some members reaching for thousands. It reminded Murai of Rudolf for sure, as his time on this planet was long turned into history that many might not remember. It was a shame he was dead and not a God.
Alas, it also made him glad. What would happen if they met at the same time in this world, acting like Blessed troublemakers? Would this world survive both of them at the same time? Murai doubted that.
Imagining something so unhinged and going against the system of rules was too funny for him. Thus, he appreciated Lookish and this book much more than the rest. Such a wild and honest figure deserves such treatment, though it wasn't universally acceptable. History was usually forgotten for good reasons. People died in bodies and memories alike or like dust or dried up forests or grass. Through time, many things could become even less than dust.
None one besides Murai was impressed at Lookish. Especially Lisa who was for some pages, chances, or passing records of Void, Space, or anything with Chaos Space.
With Dungeons around, perhaps there was a portal hiding there, but hidden, forgotten, or not made publicly known for unknown reasons.
Levandis was hiding something for sure. Lisa knew it like her own head.
Pages moved under her grasp, revealing the content of numerous detailed maps and mining shafts and depths of this place.
Lookish had extremely detailed handwriting and skill in map-making. It was old, but unlike those keeping their desires in Chaos, he catered to Order in some capacity.
From ancient times until now, Ip'ur Mountain transformed into one thing. More mining. Ip'ur City got bigger and wider. That was it.
People changed as well, owners died or passed it onto others, while miners were always mining and creating new shafts, using old ones, remodeling destroyed ones, and so on.
For centuries, Foolisch acted like his master, making new findings, looking for the purpose or disappearance of his master, and overlooking his research and his notes. He left a lot after all, as he lived a longer life than most Overlords would do without becoming a God.
He also argued for this book to return, yet Lisa couldn't promise it, nor Foolisch could do much else. He could only hope that Bagus return and give this book back. That Grifhart was reliable and powerful. If anyone, it should be him to live after more inevitable clashes.
As for the worth of this book, its alluring nature was in history and many layers of context that Lisa previously lacked, or knew in some limits. For those unfamiliar with this place, they wouldn't give much.
An hour into this research, Lisa found no passing knowledge about any portals.
No word. No comment.
“Who was this Lookish?” Murai asked Lisa through his Will and flinched her turning hands.
“Someone curious about all kinds of things, it seems. I've never met him. He looks like someone I might've liked, unlike a certain someone,” She replied, facing the pages like everyone else.
The pages included old or new details less than a year old. Main entrances to almost all mines were still there as they hadn't changed in hundreds of years, unlike subsequent shafts and many paths down. Foolisch changed and took care of that by writing and drawing them out into this book.
There were detailed maps, as well as large details sets of mining shafts that Foolisch himself saw and drew. He long decided on this city to be his central interest.
It was similar to his old master, who might've traveled everywhere without a place or company to his name, but he still went back to this mountain and stayed.
Maps of the shafts and mines were cities worth of pathways.
“This will take ages to go through,” Itrosh sighed, grasping her cheeks and massaging her eyes after half an hour of research.
They needed to know more. This book didn't help as much as Lisa thought it would.
Thus, something like a last strand could. Murai's Token had the power to detect a portal within a hundred meters, and so far, nothing happened to it in this city.
A hundred meters was a very short distance when one saw mines going for dozens of kilometers down, stretching even more to the sides at some portions. Most shafts were close to one another, making mining efficient when it was worth it because most of the Ultra Materium was in small veins.
In such a big place, size or the word big was wrong. What was underneath this hole was like hundreds of cities and the Ip'ur Mountains combined.
“Hopefully, it won't take long to walk through them, Itrosh and Bagus,” Lisa said with a sigh, taking the lead over the book to Murai. Floating up, she pulled Murai to be the center of what was essentially his main mission she took for her own. Now, it was his time to shine.