The sword and shield the Puppet Master had were nothing special. I briefly considered grabbing the shield, but I was barely getting the hang of two-handed fighting. Complicating my life by switching to a sword-and-board style would probably be more of a hindrance than an improvement. Especially, given the fact I was starting to rely on my agility. Aki was also content with her two falchions, and switching one of them to the arming sword that ‘dropped’ would be even worse for her than me taking the shield. Falchions were single-edged while the arming sword was double, so she could genuinely hurt herself using it.

The satchel was of better use to us: two healing potions we immediately drank, leaving us with three spares; and a coin purse. Inside, there were twenty-five silver coins with one hundred stamped on the reverse and a star on the obverse, and fifty copper coins with ones on the reverse. Aki’s eyes lit up seeing those.

‘Is that a lot?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ she answered and explained the local money to me. The best I could tell from her explanation, those were called either Divines or Lights. The Viscountcy of Ror-Bhyk - the area we currently were located in, used to have its own currency but it was supplanted by the Lights (I refused to use the term “Divines”) a couple of decades before. I was quite surprised to learn that there weren’t any countries on the continent, at least not as far as Aki knew. After the Vandarian Empire collapsed a few centuries before, power consolidated around various urban areas and noble estates which led to the emergence of a massive network of ever-squabbling city-states. By now, any idea of consolidation was likely a non-starter because all the previously minor nobles became glued to their ancestral titles. The constant confusion over currency exchange rates allowed the Church of Light to step in and, thanks to the merchants preferring to have a single medium of exchange rather than a few dozen different ones, take over on that front. The city-states rich enough to maintain a currency, which usually became the one used in their region, were less than thrilled, but after their poorer neighbours switched over to Lights they eventually went with the flow. None of them, at the end of the day, were self-sustainable.

Lights came in the following denominations: copper ones, silver hundreds and gold ten thousand. There were also apparently fifty thousand, hundred thousand and one million Lights banknotes, but Aki had never seen one in her life. I could understand it, as I imagined the main purpose of those was making travel with vast amounts of wealth much easier than a sack full of gold.

In her village, a farm hand could expect to earn maybe two to three hundred Lights per week, which based on her description was barely enough to consider it a liveable wage for one person, since some meals would usually be provided to them at their place of employment. A week's stay at the local inn was hundred-and-fifty Lights alone without meals, and food would cost you an extra fifty to one hundred per capita. So a single person working on a wealthier farm would probably be able to save up some cash, especially if the owner provided you with a place to sleep as well, but if you were shit outta luck you would struggle to make it from week to week. If you had a family… well… good luck sucker.

So to sum up, we ended up with some poor schmucks two-and-half months worth of wages, which would theoretically set us up for a while.

This made me consider what we would have to do for a living after escaping the dungeon. I wasn't terribly looking forward to a life of farmwork, assuming someone would even hire me given I knew fuck-all about it. I could technically look for an ‘office’ job in the city, but once again my lack of knowledge would prove problematic. I probably knew more about maths than most candidates, but my lack of knowledge about the world would come to bite me.

The possibilities then were… unskilled manual labour in the city, whoring, which was definitely out, or adventuring. Assuming that was a thing on Dwynveia. I could also try becoming a city guard or something, I guessed. If they accepted women.

‘So… Aki,’ I began, hoping she would have some ideas since life as a mercenary and what amounted to a contract killer wasn’t that appealing to me either. ‘What were your plans after you left your village?’

‘I was heading to Ror-Bhyk, hoping to find some work there. But mostly I wanted to see if I could join the Seekers’ Society.’

‘The Seekers?’

Aki smiled and intoned with a smile:

‘Adventures and heroes, travellers and spies, mages and warriors.’

Fools and corpses, I added silently.

But still, that meant that we could find work in a pinch. If we survived this bullshit we would be more than qualified, I imagined. Just had to make sure of one thing:

‘Are you certain this is still something you want? Especially after all…’

I vaguely gestured around.

‘...this?’ I finished.

Aki’s expression got cloudy but quickly brightened:

‘Yup! Becoming a Seeker is something I’ve always dreamed about. To go on an adventure, and not be… well… you know…’

A teenage girl ostracised for being born.

I nodded for her to continue.

‘This has been a bit of an eye-opener,’ Aki choked up slightly. ‘But now that I’ve met you… For the first time since my mom died I don’t feel helpless and at the mercy of others. I know it will be dangerous. But what isn't? What guarantee do I have that someone won’t summon the Inquisition again? Or there won’t be a monster attack on the place I settle in?’

It is better to die while chasing a dream than to be burnt at a stake, eh?

‘Fair points have been made. Let's take the Seekers’ Society by storm then. I imagine few of them will have ‘survived a legendary dungeon’ on their record.’

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Aki beamed at me. I threw her the coin purse.

‘Hold on to this. You’ll probably make a better use out of it than I do.’

The girl cocked her head in confusion.

‘You know how much food should cost,’ I quickly added. ‘I don’t.’

When we were back in the corridor, I suggested we should try going to the left.

‘The Puppet Master came from the right so I think we should try the opposite direction,’ I explained.

Truth be told, I didn’t expect the choice to matter all that much, given that the corridor likely established an external boundary of a rectangle, meaning if we followed it we would eventually get back to the starting point. The hope was we would find stairs up before we ran into Mister Hell’s lair.

I was proven partially wrong as we actually came up to a fork in the path.

‘So which is the one that loops in on itself, or is the choice meaningless as they both do?’ I wondered and turned to Aki. ‘Which one should we choose?’

The girl pondered that for a moment and pointed to the right.

‘Right, it is then.’

While the corridor didn’t lead to an exit, at least not presently, it proved itself not to be a complete waste of time. We entered a tall cylindrical chamber. There were remains of a staircase attached to the wall and the floor was strewn with its remnants. I couldn’t see any scorch marks on the walls so it's likely the collapse took place a while ago. Aki pointed to a skeleton partially buried under the debris. Its bony hand was wrapped around the hilt of a long-bladed sword. It was less ornate than my current weapon: the blade lacked any engravings, though the silver crossguard did have leaves and thorny vines carved into it. The sword was slightly longer than my current weapon, and its leather-wrapped hilt, long enough to be held with both hands if needed, ended in a pommel shaped into a black flower carved out of some black polished rock.

Another bastard sword? I wondered.

I looked around the room and seeing no obvious dangers I slowly walked up to the skeleton and stepped on the arm holding the sword. The remains didn't protest, so I knelt on one knee and took the weapon from its grasp. Immediately, my mind was assaulted by a maelstrom of confused feelings and pictures: pride, uncertainty, determination; images from someone else’s life; and the feeling of that final dread as the end comes.

What the fuck?

The sword’s description popped up in my vision.

Item: Blade of the Black Rose

Class: Weapon - Special - Bastard Sword

Rarity: Unique

Quality: Good

Durability: 49/50

Effects:

* Small chance to imbued with the user’s dominant arcana type on strike (doesn't consume mana)

Traits:

* Soulbound - Cannot be stolen. If lost, can be resummoned by the owner at any time. If damaged, durability is restored at twice the owner’s natural healing rate.

* Focus - can be used as a spell focus to channel a chosen arcana type to launch a ranged attack (consumes mana)

Imprint: The day that Tyrric was accepted into the Order of the Black Rose was the proudest in the young knight's life. The Tower of Trials was supposed to be the place where he would show that his place in the Order was well-earned. Instead, it became his tomb, like for all who dared to enter that cursed place.

Oh. So the interface can translate from “Mental Assault” to “Lilyth”. Good to know. Also, this confirms that people were trying to raid this place. I wonder… were the skeletons down below a part of such a raid? If so… what killed them? None of the things we’ve encountered here so far seemed capable of killing a group of this size.

I shrugged. It was likely another thing to look forward to meeting down here. I turned my attention back to the sword. While its properties already looked very good, the weapon, additionally, had an amazing feel to it. The hilt somehow fit my hands perfectly, the sword was wonderfully balanced and after I gave it a few test swings I didn't want to wield a different sword ever again. Even single-handed slashes felt right.

A prompt appeared in front of my eyes.

Do you want to bind the item: Blade of Black Rose to yourself?

Yes/No?

Yes!

Item: Blade of Black Rose is now soulbound to you.

A belated thought hit me then, how would I carry it? It’s not like it would fit in the scabbard I had. I looked towards Aki who was staring at me with wry amusement.

‘A girl gotta play with her new toy,’ I explained.

A dumb idea then hit me. Why not still try fitting the sword into the sheath? Maybe it would be “stable enough” there. I couldn’t even fit it inside, as the blade turned out to be too wide. I was about to put it back, really disappointed, when Aki came up to me and suggested:

‘Why not put it inside your backpack?’

‘Won’t it damage it from the inside?’ I asked, confused.

‘It’s got Holding on it, doesn’t it?’

I slowly nodded.

‘And does that have to do with anything?’ I asked.

‘Have the items inside ever taken damage from anything that has happened to you so far?’

‘No… oh… there is a pocket dimension inside, isn’t there? Makes sense.’

‘Yup. Just make sure not to put it in a way that won’t damage anything that’s inside.’

Which was easier said than done. I ended up wrapping it in my first set of clothes. They would regenerate themselves in time, and the sword wouldn’t damage any of my hoodies or the greatcoat.

You can give up now, skeleton, I thought to the remains of Tyrric and, seeing nothing else of use in the room, we’ve backtracked with Aki to the crossroads.

Our senses were immediately assaulted by a smell of decay. I could make out three figures slowly shuffling towards us. One of them was a massive, muscular man with glowing red eyes. The revenant was wearing a familiar-looking green uniform and… no… it couldn’t be. Was that an undershirt with horizontal blue-and-white stripes?

‘Who else to send but the VDV?’ I laughed under my breath.

To his left, there was a half-rotten dark-skinned man wearing remnants of a suit, while to his right there was an equally decaying white-skinned woman in pink yoga pants and a white undershirt. Her hair had mostly fallen out, and the remains of it were white and brittle.

‘Who keeps creating these?’ I couldn't help but wonder.

If those were the creation of the dungeon wouldn't they have gone inert once the grid blew up? Was there a necromancer somewhere around here?