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“Technically speaking it’s not a dungeon. It’s a field.”
“Sssso while I am getting my [Evolution], you will be hunting?”
“That’s the idea.” I replied.
The morning after speaking with Yousef, two days after the fire, Skaris and I headed towards the Beastman Settlement. Despite their best efforts, Kyrian and Skaris came up with nothing; no one was willing to tell them anything about the Slum Lord or the Black Market. It figured. Neither of them had the necessary skills or background. Kyrian was a mage who trained in the prestigious magic towers of Babel, having been born as a noble. He worked with the Akka Xaluds for a while but that gave me the sense that it was more political and high-society, rather than crawling in sewers and sneaking up on people.
On first look, Skaris might fit the bill. A skilled fighter, callous of rules and societal grace; but I found out that it was the opposite. Bound by honor and battlelust, he was a warrior through and through. If anything, he was even more removed from the seedy streets of cities than Kyrian was. Skaris kind of screamed ‘soldier’ or ‘cop’ –if I wanted to be modern about it.
Neither of the two really fit the bill as those suave, roguish, clad-in-black and slinking-in-the-shadows vibe.
Regardless, this morning we had to go our separate ways. Skaris had to go towards the beastman village while Kyrian headed for the Mage Tower that Dibo introduced him to. I was going to accompany Kyrian when he got his Mana Core –as I was supposed to meet with Dibo anyways– but the young mage assured me that he wasn’t going to get his Core. He was simply going to check out the Tower to see if their Mana Core would be up to standard. As powerful as mages were, they had a lot of things to deal with.
First, Mana Cores didn’t drop from monsters. They could only be purchased from a Mage Tower. Then there was the grading. All Mana Cores were graded on craftsmanship; which equated to the quality of spells you cast. One of the reasons I didn’t like playing as a Mage in the real world was precisely because of the maneuvering and sucking-up I had to do to the older mage NPCs just to get a decent Mana Core.
“One day I guess I’ll have to ask Kyrian about the grade of his Mana Cores… though he did come from Babel. So he should be good on that account.”
Skaris and I moved quickly, leaving Miltus and getting on the road towards Eretia. There were other adventurers on the road, some fully armed and prepared for a hunt while others were dressed lightly; sticking to the paved paths. To my understanding, each city was required to invest a certain amount of money into keeping the paths clean of monsters, making sure they wouldn’t stray in from their spawning areas. The jobs usually fell to retired adventurers; they had more than enough skill to drive away a stray monster or two.
Of course, we always kept a wide berth between ourselves and other adventurers. There was no telling who would try and pick a fight with us and the further away from civilization we got; the greater the chance of that happening. The demographic of the adventurers around us changed from a diverse array to something more homogenic: beastman.
We walked about an hour before the Beastman Settlement of Jayu came into view. I don’t know what I had been expecting; Mud huts and straw houses? A village square with cows, chickens and pigs running amok? The village was neither of those things and to be frank, the word ‘village’ didn’t really do it justice.
Unlike the other rocky parts of Jayu that were reminiscent of the mediterranean, the Beastman had chosen to settle on what looked like a vast plain of greenery; something I’d expect from the steppes of Eastern Europe or the plains of Mongolia. The sky stretched as far as the eye could see and the Beastmen didn’t build hulking skyscrapers and multi-floored buildings as we humans did. Their houses were long and flat, like log-houses and I wondered how they were set up inside.
There were a good number of houses and buildings for sure, but no way to tell if it was a proper indicator of the beastman population in Jayu. The last thing I wanted to do was get into an altercation with a beastman who was important to their people, end up banished and earn the ire of countless adventurers. But on second thought, that didn’t make sense. The Beastman race were fragmented, made up of dozens of tribes and I had a hard time imagining them living here together. For example; Skaris was from the Deepeater Tribe but not all lizard beastman belonged to that specific tribe.
'Yeah it makes more sense that the adventurers live outside of this village, staying in inns or their own houses only coming to visit when they need an [Evolution] or something specific.'
“Ssslaveborn,” Skaris said, once we were only a few minutes away from the village, “Will you be accompanying me?”
I debated with myself. On one hand I was curious; another chance to explore a part of the world I had never seen. Then again, what I was curious about was the Zimmskar Kingdom. I had a feeling that things would be more ‘authentic’ there. This village was probably made by immigrant beastmen who had settled here, a potpourri of culture from Jayu States combined with their traditional styles. That was Jayu in a nutshell, a mixture of different races coming together and learning to live with each other, learning from one another.
“Not right now. I’m going to stretch my legs, hunt a little bit.” I had seen a few potential hunting spots on the way here. A good place to farm for my 4th Core. My 4th Core shouldn’t be tough to find, as it belonged to a relatively weak monster. “You remember what [Evolution] I recommended?”
“My people have always took the path of fire. It is a good suggestion. Good Hunting, Sslaveborn." Skaris turned and started towards the Beastman Settlement. I watched him go, seeing the guards allowing him to pass him easily.
“Shit, maybe I should have told him to let them know he’d be expecting a guest.”
Turning on my heel, I ran the opposite way, getting off of the roads and looking for my hunting grounds.
Weeks ago, Yousef had given me a map with information on the surrounding dungeons and field monsters. I compared it to the map I had received from Marc Pointell, piecing it together with my own knowledge of MSS to create a perfect mental picture that overlapped the map I knew and their map. Luckily, the monsters I wanted to farm weren't too far from this place.
The hunting ground I was looking for was at the bottom of two cliffs, a gradual slope in the crevice. Once I started walking downhill with a drop on one side and the cliff on the other, I knew I was here. At the bottom of the canyon, I saw my target.
It floated a few feet above the ground, covered by a black cloth which made it look like a reaper. Instead of the typical two-handed scythe, the creature held a long chain in one arm and a wave patterned dagger in the other. The creature moaned, most of its gray-blue body hidden beneath the cloth, and continued to float aimlessly.
[Tortured Spirit] - Grade 8
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The monster had a Grade of 8 –meaning I would not receive any experience from it since I hit level 30 recently– but by my estimation, its real grading should be around 9 or even 10. It had very little HP to speak of, dying from most spells in one hit. It could evade through physical damage by using [Ethereal Body] but my [Aura] could take care of that.
“Ok, let’s start this.”
I leapt down from the ledge, scraping my [Lunar Shield] on the wall to slow my descent. At the last second, my [Aura] covered katana slashed through the creature once. Thanks to [Aura] and it's true damage feature, I no longer had to worry about any monsters that were impervious to certain types of damage. Plus the fact that [Tortured Spirit] practically had 0 defense stat to speak of, it wasn’t hard to slay the monster.
It dropped a few coins, one of them even being silver, and a cloth. A smithing item particularly coveted by caster types to make their armor.
Picking up the loot, I continued on my way.
The canyon was a long stretch of white rock outcroppings and sparse plant-life. Even more sparse were the number of monsters in here. But that was strange… this place wasn’t exactly the best place to farm for EXP, but it should have more monsters than this. I was only encountering monsters once every 10 to twenty minutes. Regardless, I buckled down and continued to grind.
It was… kind of relaxing.
The [Tortured Spirits] were slow, clumsy and too slow in reacting to my movements. As soon as I saw one, I darted in close without hesitation. Sometimes, I leaped off the walls coming from above, and other times I snuck up on them from behind. Most of them went down without a chance to fight, some of them managing to use their daggers and chains to hold off death for a few seconds longer than most. The act of hunting these monsters was easy, finding them was the hard part. But precisely for that reason, I fell into a rhythm; a lull of sorts where I went about my own way and forgot about all the worries for a little bit.
“Maybe I should hunt solo sometimes.” The only downside about all this was the lack of EXP. Being level 30 meant I wouldn't be receiving EXP from anything lower than a Grade 7 monster.
Still, I gathered quite a bit of cloth which could be sold for a nice little pocket change. Which reminded me of all the debt I had…
Shaking my head, I continued to farm.
Noticing that the monsters were all marching in one single direction, I simply started to ambush them, staying in the same spot until one wandered mindlessly.
'[Tortured Spirit] has a Core drop rate of about 3%... on the pretty good side. But there’s no guarantee it’s going to drop the color I need…'
｢ [Tortured Spirit] casts [Share the Load] ｣
One of the spirits snapped its wrist and the chain snapped out at me, the manacle at one end snapping around my wrist. There was no point in trying to dodge this, it had an unavoidable ability. Before the spirit could try anything, I ignored the chains and stabbed it where its head was supposed to be, slashing it straight down and then upwards. The creature wailed silently as it disappeared into dust.
Chances were that I wouldn’t find a Core today, I should just go and wait for Skaris in the beastman vill-
“Oh what the…”
A Green Spirit Core floated in the air.
"Damn." I needed the red one. The Green one had [Ethereal Body], an active ability which I had no use for.
“What a waste.” Bending down –careful not to touch the orb lest I absorb it– I picked up the rest of the loot.
“Do not move, adventurer.”
Hearing the voice vanquished all the peace I had been feeling like someone just splashed cold water on me.
Slowly, I turned around.
I was surrounded. How the hell did these guys sneak up on me?
Numbering roughly a dozen, my mind quickly scanned their equipment and broke down their party make-up methodically without even trying. After years of playing this game and fighting for my life the last few months, it was second nature by now.
“Two mages. Two… no Three Tanks. One Priestess. Two Rogues, one archer and two support-type classes.”
One person in particular drew my eye.
Her blue-eyes were fixed on me, her lips curled in a slight smile like looking at a particularly tasty looking slice of cake. Her hair was braided down her back with a streak of bright blue mixed into it. More startling than that were the animals that surrounded her, my instinct telling me to take a step back. She rode on a huge gray wolf, almost seven or eight feet tall on all fours. A pair of wolves split up to stand on either side of her, one white and one black.
Dorocian Kojisan.
“Thank you, adventurer.”
I recognized the man’s voice as the one who stopped me. He was tall, even taller than me and almost twice my width. Wide shoulders, narrow waist with thick powerful legs; with long blonde hair that was cropped close to his head in a military fashion. His armor was a type of black steel decorated with streaks of gold; a sigil resembling a crown was etched on his heart with a single line running diagonally through it. Sharp jawline and even sharper eyes… even I had to admit, the guy was good-looking.
The spitting image of a cover art for any RPG game. So I stood my ground, not stepping away from the Core.
“I killed this monster.” I said.
“Yes, you did.” The man took a step closer.
As he did, a sense of dread filled me; starting from the bottom of my heart and spiking towards my brain like a streak of lightning.
Immediately without hesitation, I lashed out with my katana; the tip stopping right in front of the man’s throat.
A dozen different spells and abilities from his comrades came roiling up to the surface, surrounding us.
“Gurran-”
“How dare you-”
“...”
The man in question raised his hands in a placating gesture. No weapons but I didn’t need to see his weapons to know that he was a melee fighter, most likely a tank or a colossal-weapon wielder.
“Take a step back.” My voice was low and quiet.
“I simply want to-”
I leaned in, drawing a trickle of blood... [Aura] flickering at the edge of my blade.
His –I was assuming his named was Gurran something or other– eyes widened in shock. To his credit, he didn’t get angry or flustered; his expression turned from one of surprise to one of quiet calm in a span of one second, assessing the situation and deciding what he needed to do without any emotion whatsoever. He took a step back.
He didn't lash out in anger. He didn't scream in fear. He simply took a step back, the most logical decision in this circumstances.
My instincts screamed that this guy was dangerous.
“My name is Gurran Turian, leader of the Parthenon Clan. We have been staking out this field for the last few days, hunting the [Tortured Spirits].”
Translation: Why are you hunting in our territory? We called dibs.
I lowered my katana, seeing that the man decided to talk. There was no point in resorting to violence… especially since I was surrounded by adventurers of unknown strength. Unconsciously, my eyes darted to Dorothy, who watched the interaction with amusement.
“I wasn’t aware that a clan bought the permits for this hunting grounds. Didn’t see it on the bulletin board.” Usually when a Clan wanted to monopolize a hunting ground, they had to get a permit from the Guild.
“Ah… let’s just say we didn’t think anyone would be down here hunting [Tortured Spirits]. They are not a popular monster.”
I frowned. “That’s not my problem then.”
“This little-” An archer took a step towards me, raising his bow.
Gurran held up a hand, silencing the human archer who kept speaking up behind him. My eyes wandered over to the archer, memorizing his face.
If this came to a fight, I’d kill him first.
As if reading my thoughts, Gurran leaned to the side, blocking the archer from my view.
'So he's a tank then.' The fact that he could read my intentions alone from body language was proof of that.
“We have poured considerable resources into drawing the monsters into one side of the canyon. We were wondering why the numbers have started to dwindle down.” His eyes wandered over to me. “It seems that you have not killed... an insignificant amount.”
He took a deep breath. “I wish to propose a trade.”
“A trade? We should just take his Core for-” Again, the archer.
“No. He is right. We were in the wrong, claiming this canyon without a permit. For that, I apologize.”
I ignored his apology. “What trade?”
“We have been looking for a Core… the one that lies behind you in fact. Would you be willing to trade it for another Core?”
Gurran’s Dimension Ring flashed and he took out an Incubator with a Red Spirit Core. “This is the Red Core of the [Tortured Spirit]. I saw you didn’t absorb the Green Core right away, was this what you were looking for?”
“How do I know that its the Red Core of a Tortured Spirit?” Of course, I knew that it belonged to the Spirit just by looking at it. But most adventurers wouldn’t know.
“I swear on my family’s name.” He crossed his hand over his heart.
“I do as well.” Dorothy finally spoke up, her wolf padding up to where we were. “I trust you know who I am?”
I didn’t answer, looking up at the huntress. Her wolf’s yellow eyes ran over me, then seemed to cure into a smile.
“And if I do not want to?”
“You… are a very distrusting man.” Dorothy let out an exasperated breath. “I will pay you if that’s what you prefer. I’m the one who wants to absorb this Core and I’m telling you this as a show of good faith.”
“And if you still do not want to, feel free to leave.” Gurran stated and the rest of the Parthenon members lowered their weapons.
Huh. Interesting.
She knew we were going to face off in the colosseum yet she was telling me which Core she planned to absorb.
In a word, she was looking down on me. Yet she was willing to either trade or buy the Core off of me instead of murdering me outright.
Ok, maybe I was being too hard on them. Of course, they could tell I wasn’t a Mage so I couldn't take the Core out of here either...
“Fine. A trade it is then.” I stepped aside as Dorothy leapt down from her wolf’s back while Gurran handed the Incubator over to me.
At the same time, we both absorbed our respective Cores.
“We will be hunting in this canyon for a bit longer. I hope you will be understanding.” Gurran finished.
Again, Translation: Fuck off now.
Of course, the Tortured Spirits had another drop that was pretty useful. It made sense that they were farming for days, that item had a drop rate lower than 1%.
I scoffed. “I’m leaving. But if a monster attacks me, I’m going to kill it.”
On cue, a [Tortured Spirit] came into view, wailing silently.
My legs were already moving and I rushed past the circle of adventurers surrounding me, slashing into the [Tortured Spirit], killing it instantly. I didn’t need to but I wanted to make a point that I wasn’t scared of them.
Clang!
Something dropped.
You see, Tortured Spirits don’t just drop their Cores… they also drop a [Legendary] item once in awhile. The [Tortured Kris]. Most likely the item that this Parthenon Clan was looking for…
I picked up the Kris and looked back, seeing Gurran and Dorothy’s shocked eyes.
Well, shit. It picked the perfect time to drop.
The ugly archer's eyes bulged out of his face. “GET HIM!”
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