After the sheriff's invitation, things became noticeably calmer. Not only did we relax, but the locals did as well. Especially the six tunnellers, who even greeted us with a smile. On the short way to Unudo, I kept the conversation going, trying to learn as much as possible about the area we found ourselves in. The other earthlings preferred to remain silent, but they listened attentively, memorizing every answer, every word.
Despite entering the town surrounded by armed people, it didn't even look like a guard escort from the outside. By then, the sheriff and his assistants were fully convinced that we were harmless and even promised to find the fifth of us who ran away. Not that any of us needed that, but it would have been foolish to hide how many of us initially arrived here. Any tracker can easily determine the number of people that appeared on the hillside. If I had kept silent about the fifth one, the sheriff would have had some very uncomfortable questions for me later. However, if they find the wayward guy, that's even for the better, as he might not have had time to do something irreparable by then.
Unudo lived up to the first impression of it. A deeply provincial town, largely living off fishing. Moreover, it was one of the small transport hubs of the archipelago, and ships would stop here not only to purchase fish but also to stock up on supplies and wait out bad weather. There was one aspect that I found somewhat puzzling for this type of settlement. Unudo looked too neat, well-maintained, and wealthy. The even pavement of the main street clearly is timely repaired. The facades of the houses are adorned with plaster figurines. And most importantly, not a trace of dirt or garbage, which means that the sanitation service in Unudo is very efficient, which in itself is quite expensive for the town authorities, and few small settlements can afford it.
"I went on a virtual tour of the Revived Pompeii, a project for digitizing what the city looked like before the eruption of Vesuvius," Flavius muttered when the locals couldn't hear us. "It's very similar. Of course, there's no forum, magnificent statues, or columns, but it vaguely reminds me of that."
There probably is some similarity, as the opinion that Ain's architecture closely resembles ancient Roman will be widely spread among earthlings.
As soon as we entered the town, the sheriff dismissed the six tunnellers, and we were accompanied by only three from there on. Ender took us to the "marshal," which is what the local guard building was called, and then invited us in. Despite none of us really wanting to, I agreed.
The inside was quite spacious, and two empty rooms with narrow, slit-like windows and barred doors hinted unambiguously that if something went wrong, they were vacant and waiting for "guests." The sheriff offered us seats, recorded our names on a scroll, and then treated us to grape juice. He then told us a bit about the town and the rules it is advisable to follow. After that, he offered us to leave our weapons under his supervision while we were in Unudo. In exchange, he promised to negotiate with the innkeeper and get us almost a third off the price.
Hearing this, Flavius clutched his ax so that his knuckles turned white, while I calmly placed my yari in the weapon rack. Miranda did the same with her staff. Looking at us like a cornered animal, the blond guy finally relented and prudently left his weapon. Ender was not interested in our daggers or Ilona's healer's wand at her waist.
Having finished the juice, I asked:
"Could you assign someone to accompany us for a while so that we don't have to pester passers-by with questions?" I tossed a copper coin in my hand and continued, "For a small fee, of course."
"Oh, that won't be a problem," Ender replied with a wide smile. "It's calm in our town right now, and I'll personally accompany you. And, of course, I won't take even a copper for it."
Miranda and Flavius were quite tense at this turn of events, while I, on the other hand, was relieved. Firstly, under the sheriff's watchful eye, my companions were unlikely to cause any trouble. Secondly, he was certainly more informed about everything than any town kid would be. And thirdly, Ender clearly found his position tedious, and from a bored person, one can extract much more information.
As soon as we agreed, the sheriff took us to the local tavern, the second floor of which also served as a small inn with just five rooms. Since there were no ships docked at Unudo that day, the guest rooms were understandably vacant. Ender also put pressure on the innkeeper, who rented us two rooms for the price of a silver coin per day for both. Very cheap, though the food wasn't included in this price.
When we finished inspecting the rooms and descended downstairs, the sun was already leaning toward the horizon. By this time, the inn's dining hall was nearly filled to capacity with locals. Most likely, it was our presence that caused such a commotion. Of course, being a port town, Unudo often had its fair share of unfamiliar faces, considering its remote location. However, we still stood out because we were foreigners, and our appearance was unusual for these parts. The locals were used to Ender, but we were almost pointed at. It was good that the sheriff was accompanying us. Because the looks that some patrons cast at Ilona's bust, as soon as a bit more alcohol was consumed, could turn into harassment. And that could have ended badly. But Ender, sitting at our table, provided a reliable guarantee that those looks would remain just looks.
The sheriff probably considered himself clever and tried to get us drunk, focusing particularly on me. Ha, trying to get me drunk, considering my Earthly experience, and with the local beer that barely had five percent alcohol content! How naive! Well, I played along a bit, pretending to get more and more intoxicated with each mug I drank. After the fifth, Ender relaxed, and after the seventh, he started complaining about his life, cursing the Easterners in every way possible. And lamenting the mistake he made seven years ago by agreeing to take on the position of the local sheriff.
In the end, when Flavius and I went up to our room late at night and lay down on the hard wooden beds, we knew almost everything about the town and its surroundings.
"Strange world," mused Flavius, who had barely drunk anything that evening, as he gazed at the ceiling.
"Strange," I agreed in order to keep the conversation going.
"Magic, swords, artifacts, fallen gods, dungeons," sighed Flavius. "My imagination painted fairy tale images, but in the end…"
"What?"
"Well, these dungeons are not being cleared by heroes, not by glorious adventurers, but by tunnellers," he then muttered. "Tunnellers... It's such an ordinary word, not heroic at all. Think about it, Raven: here, dungeons are essentially mines where resources are extracted. And tunnellers are not adventurers but, essentially, miners. No, not essentially! They are actually miners. Instead of picks and shovels, they wield swords, axes, spears in their hands, or spells. It's beyond comprehension..." he whispered, slapping his forehead. "How is it possible? How can dungeon clearing and battling monsters be a simple, albeit respected, job? And it's even considered less dangerous than whaling."
The guy was smart - he caught on to this nuance on his very first day. He was right. Yes, the tunnellers go into dungeons. Yes, they fight monsters there. But no, there is no experience to gain from killing enemies, and artifacts from monsters drop very rarely. All the loot they get is what those enemies were armed with. But even it is often not picked up because it is far more important for a tunneller to bring the necessary resources out of the dungeon.
From Ender's stories, the reason for the relative wealth of the town became clear. There were three dungeons on the island, all - copper rank. Salt was mined in the first, spider silk was obtained in the second, and mountain obsidian in the third. It was mainly the first two resources that served as the primary sources of Unudo's export. Obsidian was almost not in demand, but everyone always needed salt, and spider silk is a rare and expensive material.
"I can't even imagine!" Flavius continued to lament. "Every week, the dungeons reset, and every week a local tunneller takes his sword and goes to clear it out. Like going to a mundane, monotonous job that he's absolutely sick of! And he kills monsters there - the same that he has killed hundreds of times already!"
"And, most likely, the same that his father killed before him and his grandfather before that," I interjected.
"Yes, I noticed that here 'professions' often pass from father to son," nodded Flavius and fell silent in thought.
If not for the amount I drank, I probably wouldn't have been able to sleep that night. But the several liters of beer inside me took their toll, and as soon as Flavius stopped talking, I passed off.
I woke up to the glaring sunlight right in my eyes. Sitting up in bed, I noticed that Flavius was no longer in the room. Judging by the position of Dairin in the sky, it was about eight in the morning. Unlike me, the town had long awakened, and the familiar noise of urban bustle could be heard from the street. After washing up and checking the communal restroom on the floor, I went down to the tavern hall. To my relief, the other earthlings were there instead of venturing off to seek some adventure. All three of them were sitting at a corner table, drinking local tea.
"Have you already had breakfast?" I asked as I approached them.
"No," Miranda replied grimly. "We were waiting for you. We've been waiting for over an hour."
Ignoring her indignation, I leaned in and whispered:
"I suggest we get food to go and have breakfast somewhere away from prying eyes to discuss everything we learned yesterday. I hope you ladies, like Flavius and I, didn't just eat and drink but also carefully listened and remembered."
"Of course, we listened!" Miranda crossed her arms over her chest.
"A picnic outdoors?" Ilona smiled. "I'm in!"
Having received full support, I asked the cook to prepare something for us to take away. While we were waiting, Ender came into the tavern and gave us a scrutinizing look.
"Are you already heading somewhere?" He asked, seemingly innocently.
In response, I nodded and, pulling him aside, quietly said:
"We'd like to discuss our situation and future plans without any eavesdroppers. And the locals… You saw it yourself yesterday - they point fingers at us and laugh at our wide eyes." Spot on, the sheriff grimaced upon hearing this, as if he had a toothache. "So, we wanted to have breakfast somewhere more secluded, to talk. As for 'heading somewhere,' where could we possibly go on this island?! Besides, you have our weapons. By the way, could you suggest a good spot for us to have breakfast where the local kids won't mock us?"
"Look," He approached the window and pointed toward the bay. "Do you see that hill beyond the North Tower?"
"Yes."
"Have your breakfast on the west slope. The east slope is all dug up and plowed, but don't mind that - it's where I and my aides train. The locals don't go up the hill, as they're afraid of getting caught in some random skill or spell."
"Thank you," I expressed my sincere gratitude to the sheriff.
"And come to the marshal this evening. We had a good time yesterday, and I'd like to do it again." Ender laughed and gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "The locals don't know how to drink, two mugs - and they're under the table. Wimps! I can't even have a proper conversation…"
"I'll come," I nodded. "Why not have a drink with a good man?" I winked. "Especially if that good man is treating."
"Ha!" Ender smiled. "I can tell right away that I've met someone who grew up on the other side of the Great Ridge. No beating around the bush, straight to the point, without the local shilly-shallying and politeness. And yes, I'm treating."
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Yesterday, the sheriff and I had a good drink together, enough that we started addressing each other informally. Having been born and lived most of his life on the other side of the Great Ridge, he sometimes longed for his homeland and faces similar to his own. I did my best to use this nostalgia of his to get him in a positive mood toward us. And judging by the way he is talking to me now, it worked.
"Are there two shops in town? Could you tell me which one is better to check out if I want to buy some gear?" I asked before the sheriff left the tavern.
"If you ask the locals, they'll send you to Uncle Hoo's shop," Ender scrunched his face. "He seems like a friendly and kind old man. But underneath that facade, he's a real wheeler-dealer, whom half the town owes. So, I would recommend the Silent Hey's shop, which is, by the way, right next to the marshal, so you'll easily find it."
"Thank you!"
"You're welcome," He waved it off and headed for the exit. "So, I'll see you at my place this evening?"
"Of course," I nodded to the departing sheriff.
After waiting for the cook to pack our breakfast into a large basket, we left the tavern and, under the jeers of the local children, left the town. Finding the hill that Ender pointed out was easy.
"It truly is beautiful here," Ilona observed as she laid out the food. "The sea is so clean and distant. And you can't hear the town's noise."
"The locals annoy me," Flavius said, taking a bite of smoked fish and shaking his head. "Especially the kids. It's like some sort of madness; what are their parents doing? Pointing fingers at strangers and laughing at them, what if we're maniacs, and later we just slit their throats... Hey, don't look at me like that - I'm just giving an example!"
"You should take it more calmly," Miranda shrugged. "And smile back. Even if you have to force it."
"Yeah, I get it, I get it!" Flavius waved her off.
After satisfying our initial hunger, we began to exchange the knowledge that we were able to learn or overhear last night. Mostly Flavius and Miranda talked, Ilona rarely chimed in, but her remarks were spot on. Sometimes I also joined, steering the conversation in the right direction and subtly sharing my knowledge about Ain with the rest.
My companions didn't waste any time yesterday and found out a lot. "I" in the last Cycle arrived at many answers much later than they did. They already knew about the rank chart.
"I don't understand one thing: how much stronger is a warrior or mage of the bronze rank compared to an iron rank fighter who is one step below?" Flavius asked.
"From what I gathered from the sheriff's words, a warrior one rank higher is equal to two fighters of the previous rank in combat," I answered him. "The situation changes at higher ranks, and the gap becomes even larger." Of course, Ender didn't tell me anything like this yesterday, and to answer the guy, I used my "knowledge of the future."
"Correct me if I'm wrong," said Miranda, setting aside a piece of cheese. "There are fifteen ranks in total."
"Sixteen," Flavius interjected.
"I don't count the wooden one - it can be taken as zero," the sorceress snapped and continued. "The fifteen ranks make up the Spiral of the Great Path and are divided into three Coils. Each Coil has five ranks. The first Coil of the Path is called metallic. The second one is stone or precious. The third is heroic."
"Sounds right," the blond nodded in agreement.
"The metallic Coil includes the following ranks in ascending order of power: copper, iron, bronze, steel, wootz."
"That's right," I confirmed.
"But I don't get it," Ilona joined the conversation, not having finished chewing a tomato. "Why is the iron rank lower than the bronze?"
"Because wrought iron is inferior to properly prepared bronze," I replied, quoting the words of Keitashi Atsushi heard by "the past me."
"Oh! I didn't know. But now it all makes sense," the healer nodded.
"And we are all on the copper rank," Flavius frowned. "At the very bottom of the 'food chain.' And that makes me nervous! Has anyone found out how to raise these ranks? Maybe you gain experience like in games?"
After thinking it over, I decided not to hide such useful information:
"The sheriff became very talkative yesterday after the fifth mug," I had to lie again for plausibility. "And I learned that to increase the rank, you need first to fill your Core and then reassemble it again. The filling of the Core is the achievements we gain. The higher the status of these achievements, the faster the Cores are filled. There is also an alternative, slower but more reliable way, which is meditation, training to the extreme, and alchemy."
"Reassemble?" Ilona was surprised.
"Immersing yourself in meditation and doing something similar to what we went through during the quester's training."
Since yesterday I had already called questers by this name and explained that I came up with it because they give us tasks, i.e., quests, so everyone understood me correctly.
"To go through it again, and maybe not just once?!" Miranda turned pale as chalk. "You have to be a masochist to do it again voluntarily!"
"If you want to survive, you'll go to great lengths," I shrugged.
"Raven is right," Flavius supported me. "I think the questers won't leave us be, and we will have to either rise in ranks or die."
"Damn it, damn it all!" The sorceress cursed in a very unladylike manner. "Do I really have to go through THAT several more times voluntarily?!! Are you kidding me!" She sighed heavily. "But now I understand why most locals are still at the copper rank even in old age!"
"Why?" Ilona quietly asked.
"Because only a madman would make themselves go through that reassembly at least one more time!" Miranda exclaimed. What did she go through in her 'void' that still shakes her so much even now?
And she doesn't even know that if you make a mistake while changing the shell of your Core to a stronger one, it can end tragically. Moreover, while we earthlings are almost immune to such an outcome, the locals have about a one in ten chance of perishing during the next "step of the Path" and not returning from meditation. However, this seldom happens at ranks above wootz, presumably due to acquired habit. But the transition from copper to iron and from iron to bronze for the locals is akin to Russian roulette. And this is one of the main reasons why ninety-five percent of Ain's population is stuck precisely at these two ranks. They are stuck not because they lack the ability to move on but because the risk to life is too high. Moreover, an ordinary peasant or shopkeeper does not need this Spiral of the Great Path to live a fulfilling life.
We sat on the hillside for a long time. Even after we finished eating, no one was in a hurry to head back to the city. Not because we had so much information that needed immediate discussion, not at all. It's just that my companions were somewhat afraid to approach people and immerse themselves again in this world, yet so incomprehensible and clearly harboring unexplored dangers. I encouraged them as best I could but did not push them; everyone has to go through their own stage of acceptance.
In the end, we returned to the city well after noon. Flavius headed to the port as he was knowledgeable about ships and was even a member of a yacht club on Earth. The girls went to "take a walk and look around," while I looked into local shops.
First, I went to Uncle Hoo's, but I didn't find anything interesting there. The shopkeeper himself, within just five minutes, annoyed me to the point of infuriation with his flattery and desire to sell something to the stranger at triple the price. However, I still had to look for clothes, as in my jeans and cotton shirt, I stood out among the locals like a sore thumb, and that's besides my Western appearance.
Passing by the marshal, I waved at Tuan, who was sitting on the steps leisurely sharpening arrowheads. He gave a formal nod in recognition and followed me with his eyes until I disappeared behind the shop doors.
Silent Hey turned out to be surprisingly young for a merchant. About twenty-five years old, lanky, skinny as a matchstick, with a sparse goatee, he looked like a villainous scientist from a bad Chinese manga. The shopkeeper didn't pay the slightest attention to my appearance, continuing to wipe a copper vase.
Taking a cue from him, I silently approached the counter and began examining the items hanging on the walls. I wasn't interested in weapons; in such a backwater, finding something better than the black bronze tip of my spear was almost impossible. There was no decent armor here either, which, however, made sense, as there was clearly little demand for such a specific product in Unudo. I silently scrutinized the goods for about five minutes. But only two things caught my interest. The first was obsidian and rock crystal jewelry: they were skillfully made, head and shoulders above what you'd expect to see in such a remote place. The second item that caught my interest was familiar to me from my "previous life" - a perfectly shaped shard of black obsidian weighing almost a kilogram.
"Did you make these yourself?" I asked the merchant, pointing to the jewelry.
"No," The shopkeeper answered tersely, without looking up.
"And this?" I moved my palm to the huge shard.
"Ten gold pieces."
"How much?!"
"Ahemmm." Clearing his throat, Hey repeated, "Ten gold pieces."
"It's not even worth two!" I exclaimed.
The merchant silently shrugged his shoulders in response without even trying to bargain. After wandering around the shop for a while, I checked the prices of herbs and alchemical powders and left the little store without buying anything. Everything that was even remotely interesting to me was too expensive for the amount of money at my disposal.
Once outside, I smiled. The visit was not in vain. That big piece of black obsidian told me a lot about the third dungeon of the island.
Even dungeons of the same rank varied in difficulty. A dungeon of copper rank but of the first circle was much easier than one that was also copper but of the third circle. The differences were not in the strength of the monsters but in something else. First-circle dungeons at each rank were static. This means their geometry did not change, and once passed through, a map could be created. Experienced tunnellers even memorized patrol locations or the positions of the main groups of monsters. Usually, three or, at most, four local tunnellers were sufficient to pass through such a dungeon. Some of them would clear the same dungeon for years, week after week, and could navigate it with their eyes closed.
The second circle differed from the first in that after each Reset, the dungeon changed. The monsters remained the same, but everything else... Corridors, caves, passages – everything was different from the last time. It was highly recommended not to attempt to conquer the second circle with fewer than six members of the Tunnellers' Guild.
The third circle was the same as the second, but with about twice as many monsters, plus an added boss - a powerful monster guarding the most valuable thing in the dungeon. People usually don't even attempt the boss, as it is enough to kill all the regular mobs to Reset the dungeon. As for the treasures guarded by the boss, they are not worth the life-threatening risk of battling such a formidable foe. Third-circle dungeons are cleared by a full group, that is, a dozen tunnellers. They would go with more, but more than twelve people are not allowed to enter one dungeon. Such is one of the rules of Eyrat. The second rule, which greatly complicated life, forbade entering a dungeon if your rank was higher than the dungeon's rank. Lower was okay, but higher was not. The only exceptions to these rules were the Great Inverted Towers of Divine Seals.
From Sheriff Ender's stories yesterday, I knew that the salt dungeon on Un Island was of the first circle and was guarded by simple cave dwellers. The earthlings immediately dubbed these cave dwellers goblins because they were small, malicious, scrawny, with long noses, and there were always a lot of them. These goblins are the most common type of monsters in the "metal" dungeons. In the copper dungeons, there are simple goblins. In the iron ones, there are simple goblins plus goblin warriors. In the bronze ones, archers are added to the warriors. In steel dungeons, you encounter goblin shamans, very dangerous adversaries. And even in a wootz dungeon, you can find goblins as part of an orc entourage.
The Silk Cave was of the second circle and was predictably "inhabited" by giant grey spiders. A repulsive-looking enemy. But if you get used to it, they are even easier foes than the simple goblins. Now, if there were cross spiders here instead of grey ones, that would be difficult because cross spiders can spit venom. A nasty enemy.
Ender didn't talk about the third dungeon of Un Island yesterday. But that's not necessary. Seeing a shard of black obsidian in the local shop, I already understood what it was about. The third circle of copper. The enemy - nends.
Memories of the future overwhelmed me, and my head swam a little. Nends. Those bastards were something else. They look like orangutans that have learned to walk on two legs and acquired decent intelligence. In the Tunnellers' Guild of Ain, nends hold the honorable second place among the most dangerous enemies encountered in the metal dungeons. Long front limbs, very long! Plus, spears and axes on far-from-short shafts make them a challenging adversary. Even considering that the nends' weapons have flint tips in the copper dungeons. But the length of their arms is not the main problem in a confrontation with them. The most annoying thing is their fur: dense, matted, it dampens blunt blows, impenetrable to cutting, and easily stops slashing attacks. Arrows also get stuck in this fur. Only a thrusting lunge into vulnerable areas can kill these monsters. And magic, of course. But at metal ranks, mages are generally much weaker than warriors. And to kill just a couple of nends, a copper-ranked fire mage would have to use up all their mana! Then spend an hour recovering it just to burn down one more. And that's a fire element sorcerer! An ice mage, on the other hand, would tire themselves out casting spells on a nend, getting exhausted before the enemy falls.
In the stone or precious ranks, mages are comparable to warriors, and in the heroic ones, they even leap ahead in power. But the higher the rank, the more individual everything becomes, and it depends more on the personality, not the choice of the Path.
"The past me" spent a whole month traveling around Ain, killing nends in different dungeons, trying to get the ingredient Arien needed. "I" even had an achievement called "Horror of the nends" for killing more than a thousand of these creatures.
The piece of black obsidian in Silent Hey's shop could only be obtained from the chest of the nend chieftain, the dungeon boss. This creature is so dangerous that the group that "past me" was part of often bypassed these monsters while clearing the dungeon. Because the risk was not worth the reward. Fighting a ten-foot orangutan armed with a two-handed hammer, and whose fur is almost impenetrable by weapons, is not the kind of pleasure you want to repeat in your life often.
In the copper rank, such an opponent is very rare. And most likely, the dungeon on the island of Un is inhabited by their weakest - black - variety. The lighter the color of the nends' fur, the stronger they are. But even a black nend of the copper rank is essentially an equal opponent for a well-trained and experienced tunneller. The locals were unlucky to have such a complicated neighborhood.
But still, ten gold pieces for a shard? This Silent Hey is clearly out of his mind!
TLN: as you can see from the explanation in this chapter, "tunnellers" was picked intentionally instead of something like delvers or sinkers. In the original, they are named in the same way as a specific miner's occupation - the person who digs through the raw bedrock, paving new horizontal tunnels that later can be strengthened, expanded, and used for extracting minerals.