Natural sunlight hit Huay for the first time in what felt like years. She tried for a moment to trace back the days and calculate how long she’d been inside the dungeon, but her consciousness was getting faint and her thoughts were muddy.
She didn’t have the strength to crane her neck toward the waterfall of red pouring out of her shoulder and so the only evidence of the injury was the sound of blood splashing forcefully onto the ground. There was no pain at that time—Huay was losing contact with the world, and its physical sensations.
Free from the dungeon, Huay was finally able to relax. She closed her eyes and let the serenity engulf her. It was done.
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Huay awoke in a shaded tent. The air was cool, and had a vaguely floral scent. I must have passed out… Trying to sit up, she pushed against the ground for leverage, but staggered without the support of her right arm.
She reached for the shoulder on which her arm should have been. Huay was aware of what had happened to her, but she still wasn’t ready to believe it. A patch of bandages on her now vacant shoulder was all she felt in its place. Oh god…
Huay tried to sit up again—this time with her balance readjusted. The pain began to set in. It started off dull and distant but, as she acknowledged it, it grew sharper. It took some effort, but she managed to rise and look around the room.
She watched as pungent smoke rose from burning incense sticks. The fancy silver frame on which they were hoisted suggested that the tent belonged to someone wealthy. A decorative rug, a clear sign of excess, furthered the notion.
Huay extended her remaining arm and watched as it began to glow with a vibrant gold hue. Seeing her Ability made the world feel real again, and she began to think back to what had happened. Where is Salein? Huay wanted to speak with her.
Rising to her feet was easy once she started to work around her missing arm. The level ups she’d accrued during the dungeon made her body stronger than it had any right to be, and her balance had improved too.
She walked over to the entrance and untied the string holding it closed, and was met with a familiar sight. Big columns and a ceiling several hundred feet above immediately told her that she was still within the premises of Sand-Swept Tomb. She stepped out and looked to see who was nearby.
Bigoor Business, the Baranzaars, and a fashionable man at an imposing level 25 sat around a fire. The raggedy kids were still at the dungeon too—though they sat by themselves far away from the others. No Salein. With a sigh, she started toward Bigoor and his crowd. Maybe they’ll know something.
Their merry conversation stopped when Huay approached with her sullen eyes and defeated slouch. A somberness suddenly filled the air. Nobody spoke until she made it all the way to the fire.
Valnier Baranzaar broke the silence. “Congratulations on your clear.” He paused between words, struggling to find the right phrasing. “The woman you exited the dungeon with departed for Misrafal yesterday evening. She left half of the loot with us to pass on to you when you regained consciousness… I assume you cleared the Funeral Room.”
“Yeah…” Huay was hardly in the mood for conversation. Salein’s disappearance was a heavy blow.
“You didn’t collect much loot, but what you have is extremely valuable—at least from what my Basic Appraisal allows me to discern. You could live comfortably for a year off of this.”
Huay nodded.
“You’ve done well for yourself.” Valier tried to force a smile, but failed. “I hate to ask so soon after you’ve awoken, but do you think you’re ready to travel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I ask because Zell is headed to Misrafal very soon.” Valier gestured toward the unknown man. “He’s already agreed to serve as your guide if that’s where you wish to go. Bigoor is headed off too—though his destination is a dungeon several months away in Boiling Marsh. I doubt you’d want to go with him.
“Did they clear the dungeon?”
Zell, who was examining a golden tiara, grinned. “Took us seven hours to run it three times. That makes for a personal total of 81 clears on this dungeon. Neither Bigoor nor myself incurred so much as a scratch.”
“Good for you,” said Huay. “I don’t have any other options…I guess I’ll go with you.”
“Alright.” Zell set the tiara down on his lap. “I think we’ll leave in an hour or two. Go buy yourself a camel, if you please.”
Huay looked at the Baranzaars. “Are you guys not coming?”
“We need to clear this dungeon,” said Valnier, “We’ll wait as long as we need to.”
“It’s that important?”
Rasieu jumped in. “To clear the Sand-Swept dungeons is the path to becoming an elder! Our mothers and fathers are senior within the clan, and we aspire to continue our incredible lineage! The choice makes itself!”
“There’s more than one of these things?”
“There are four! Sand-Swept Crypt, Sand-Swept Tomb, Sand-Swept Catacombs, and the legendary Sand-Swept Mausoleum! Clearing the first three is key to ascension within the clan! So we shall be patient and stay the course!”
Huay nodded.
“You don’t need to worry.” Valnier looked at Zell once again. “This man is level 25. You can trust him to keep you safe.”
Zell was a short man in a white turtleneck with yellow patterns of various animals stitched on. The bright clothes were tight-fitted on his lean frame, and the look altogether suggested a certain degree of flamboyance. The white hat he wore—with its oversized tassel—was especially over the top, and his naturally smug face made his ego apparent. Huay wondered if the outfit had something to do with the clans in Misrafal or if Zell was just doing his own thing.
“So, Huay, what level are you?” Zell smirked maliciously, as though he already knew the answer. “I’m sure you must be strong, if you still made it out with half your party dead. And from the loot you brought…You would have to be quite the experienced adventurer.”
“I’m… I don’t know…” Huay stared down at her feet. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on now, don’t be shy. I’m sure you’re something special if you cleared the funeral room,” Zell said. “I’d like to know the level of someone I’m going to spend three weeks traveling with, at the very least. If you don’t tell me, I won’t be able to make adequate preparations for our journey.” He’s bullshitting.
Huay hadn’t heard the voice say her level after the boss fight, so she closed her eyes and checked her statsheet. “Um, 13. I’m level 13.”
Zell flashed a grin before putting on a straight face. “I see.”
Valnier raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You made it sound like you were a lot weaker when we met. We most likely would have run the dungeon with you if we’d known that.”
“I leveled up in there…”
“Still… We might have taken you at level 12.”
“Yeah…” I shouldn’t mention the Outlander stuff.
“Well, I suppose it was still for the best that you went with the ex-military group. They were a great deal stronger than us in objective terms,” Valnier frowned. “If only you guys hadn’t run the funeral room…” He trailed off.
Huay stared off at nothing in particular.
The group fell silent for a moment before Zell spoke. “Now hurry up and buy that camel. I haven’t got all day, you know.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Valnier gestured to the silent Baranzaar. “Raathbaam will pack food for your trip. He’s the one who treated your injury.”
“Oh, umm, thank you.” She turned her attention to Raathbaam and noticed a hefty toolbelt hanging from his waist. There was a strange plethora of cooking utensils and surgical instruments mixed in with each other.
His voice was grovely and hoarse, as though he wasn’t used to talking. “I started by cauterizing the wound with the heated backside of a serving spoon. That created scar tissue, stopping the bleeding for good. Following that, I had you drink a mixture of ultra-refined Buhayra water. It stabilized your condition and stimulated your heart to begin producing blood once again. Following the preliminary work, I furthered your healing process via the use of my Expert Cooking certification. Bolstering it with my Spicemaker ability boosted the quality of the food to the point that it gained non-trivial healing properties.” He paused, as though trying to remember something. “Oh. Almost forgot. I also used sterilized bandages treated with half-refined Buhayra water. Restoring your lost arm is beyond my capabilities as things stand, but the pain will be fully gone by the end of the week if you continue to eat the specially-prepared rations I’ve made for you.”
“Wow. Uh, thanks.” Huay hadn’t paid attention to most of Raathbaam’s words after the first few sentences. “I owe you.” Raathbaam didn’t respond. It seemed as though it would be a while before he spoke again.
“Get that camel already.” Zell reminded her of the task at hand. “I’m tired of waiting.”
Valnier pointed to a big tent a little ways away. “Salein had us keep the loot in our main tent. You can go over and take a few things to buy a camel. That merchant is unlikely to give you a good bargain—given that she’s the only merchant in the area—so you may need to trade away something valuable.”
She nodded and started walking toward it. There wasn’t any time to sulk.
Inside the tent Huay found much of the dungeon loot. Sandiver II stood out as the most valuable item in the collection. That would probably be enough. But Salein’s advice rang out in her head: it was a collector’s item, valuable enough to have a proper auction. Selling it the proper way would cover her expenses for quite some time. Better keep it then.
There was the Baranzaar Pocket Gauntlet too. Salein left it for me. It had served her well during the boss fight, allowing her to punch with force far exceeding what someone like her should have been capable of. She wondered if the Baranzaars knew about it, and if it would be okay for her to keep it. Probably ought to ask. She picked it up and slid it onto her remaining hand. I’ll bring it up.
“Effect added. Baranzaar Pocket Gauntlet: The hand on which this ring resides takes on the properties of a heavy metal gauntlet when attacking or defending.”
She picked up a heavy goblet of pure gold. Level 26. It would fetch a good price. Huay took a few more of the heaviest items: brooches and bracelets and other jewelry—most of it made from gold as well. The fortune in her hands seemed like it should have been several times more than what she needed, so she headed toward the merchant’s tent.
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She stepped into the shop with an armful of valuables. The merchant inside was reading a book titled BOUILLON TESSERACT’S 100 MUSTS: Greatest Culinary Experiences of the Eastern World. She put the enormous tome on her desk upon noticing Huay.
“Oh. You made it out alive? Good for you.” The merchant took a closer look at her. “Looks like it was a struggle… But I imagine you’d rather not have that conversation. What brings you? Looking to sell?”
“Yeah.” Huay set the golden treasures on the table. “I’m looking to trade for a camel.”
“Hmm…” The merchant took a moment to examine the loot. “I’ll give you 500 Loya and the camel for what’s on the table.” I thought it’d be worth more… “Tell me though: is that sword on your waist what I think it is?”
“I’m not selling it to you.”
“Makes sense. But that is a Razaan blade, is it not? One of the Sandivers, no? I recognize the hilt.” The merchant studied the scimitar. “I’ll buy it for 30,000 Loya, here and now.”
“It’s probably worth a lot more at auction…”
“True. But that’ll take a few months and a lot of paperwork. The best camel in my inventory is 22,000 Loya. You can get to Misrafal in less than half the time it’d take on my cheapest option. A foreigner like yourself would garner more respect on the back of a nobler steed. Misrafalean natives put a lot of stock into camels. People know better than to mess with those in possession of a thoroughbred.”
Huay considered the proposition. The merchant, so far as she could tell, was telling the truth—at least part of it. Even so, she needed a lot of money for when she actually made it to Misrafal. Splurging on a camel struck her as a poor investment, especially when things like upkeep and storage came into play.
“I’m only selling what’s on the table. I’ll take 500 Loya and a camel.”
The merchant shook her head and took the loot under her desk. “Very well then.” She took out 5 thin, elongated silver tablets, each with a big hole near the top as if intended for a keyring. The face of a stern woman with the label “OOSMIR OF CHARRIA” was pressed into their front sides along with the denomination number. The merchant slid them to Huay. “500 Loya.”
Huay stuffed the surprisingly heavy tablets into her pocket.
“I’ll have you shown to your camel now.” The merchant rose to her feet. “But I’m also going to show you my high-end options. You might change your mind when you see them.” The merchant rang a bell on her desk. “The herdsman will be here in a moment.”
Sure enough, a chubby young man, level 10, came through the door shortly thereafter. “Yes ma’am?” Huay noticed that he was not-so-subtly hiding a metal canister behind his back as he addressed the merchant, and reeked of alcohol.
“Give her a look at our selection. She’s already got her name on one of the ones from those teenagers that came in a few months ago, but I think she might be interested in seeing the best of our stock.”
“Yes ma’am. Will do.” The man looked at Huay and smiled. A few of his teeth were missing. “Come with me, Miss Foreigner. I’ll show you what we’ve got.”
Huay said nothing as the man gestured for her to follow him into the pen where all the camels were kept and opened its gate. There were a few dozen roaming in the fenced-in area, and Huay was quick to notice the wide range of levels and appearances. The biggest ones were easily twice the size of the smallest ones, and there were variations in color too: some were spotted while others were pure white, and some were even pitch-black. Levels ranged from 5 to 24.
“So, Miss, you can just stand here. My Title is Herder. Camels usually do what I tell them to.”
“That’s an interesting Title,” said Huay. She still didn’t know much about Titles or what they could do.
“Yep. I got lucky with it. Clan Jinthraa offered me this job here because I had it.” He chuckled. “Beats the factories.” The man clapped his hands and called out a name.
One of the smaller camels walked over to Huay and the herder. Its fur had a reddish hue that reminded Huay of watching a sunset at the beach. The creature was muscular and lean—though the hump on its back was almost nonexistent. Level 24. Guess this is their best.
“This one right here is a thoroughbred from Clan Ploneem’s stables. He’s an entry-level one of those Mercenary Camels the military uses, and he might be a bit rowdy at times, but he can protect you from bandits and the wildlife. He’ll run you 22,000.”
Huay took a long look at the creature, tempted by the prospect of additional security, but then remembered the price tag. She couldn’t get it without selling Sandiver, and Huay knew that she needed the auction money.
“No thanks. I’d like to see the one I already agreed to purchase now.”
“Alright.” The herder clapped twice and, with that, the high-level camel was dismissed. “I guess an adventurer like yourself doesn’t need much in the way of protection.” Another call brought 4 camels, still not quite ordinary, over to Huay. “Take your pick.”
The camels all looked about the same. Each had a brilliant white coat of fur and a disproportionately large hump. They ranged from level 7 to 11.
“These are from Clan Charria’s stables. You can tell by the color.” The herder frowned. “Not exactly thoroughbreds though. Not properly trained either. I’m surprised we have them priced so high, honestly.”
I guess I’ll just go with the highest level. “Okay. I’ll take the one on the far right.”
“Alrighty then. I’ll saddle her up.” The herder disappeared into the tent and came out with a shoddy-looking saddle a few minutes later. Level 6. He hopped up onto the creature’s back and fastened it before jumping back down and leading it out to Huay. “All yours! Her name is Ram.
“Thanks.”
The man gave her some instructions on the process of mounting. It was simple, at least on paper. All she had to do was tell the camel to lay down so that she could climb up to the saddle, then lean back as it stood up. A tight grip on the reins would help keep her from falling.
In practice though, the movements were janky and felt wrong. Her missing arm made matters all that much more challenging. It took a few attempts, but she eventually managed to work though the steps with the camel until she found herself sitting awkwardly atop the creature’s back. Thanks to its especially large hump, she was about 8 or 9 feet off the ground, and it felt as though she might fall at any moment.
“Certification earned: Novice Cavalry.”
She felt a little better with the certification, and the knowledge that it wouldn’t be long before she obtained the next tier up made the thought of the long journey ahead slightly more bearable.
“Give her a command to make her go. You pull just on the reins to stop or steer if you need. How about you try it?” These camels seem unreasonably easy to work with… And they seem to understand English, too.
Huay practiced under the man’s tutelage for a bit, mostly focusing on walking in circles and getting her to stop. Using the reins was difficult without her dominant right arm, but all the level ups had somewhat improved her finesse. She managed some basic control after some trial and error, and eventually, she finally felt ready enough to go off on her own. The herder seemed to think the same, and after closing the gate, he walked back to his chair and sat down.
Now on the camel’s back, Huay rode over to Zell and the Baranzaars. It was time for their journey to begin.